Episode 93 — The Firewall of Discipline

The air in the living room had been completely taken over by the rich aroma of melted cheese and the garlic used for seasoning.

Master Garam was tossing pieces of bread into his mouth, muttering, "I can’t get enough of this!" while Elishua’s face was flushed with excitement as she declared, "I could eat this for the rest of my life." However, a step away from the commotion, Bartos stood as still as a statue, frozen in place.

(What’s up with this guy? Did he hit a bug or something? He was eating so happily a second ago, and now his brain has just stopped responding.)

I cast a puzzled look his way, and the moment our eyes met, Bartos bowed his head with an indescribably complex expression.

"Master Zect... if I may, I would like to ask you something."

"Sure, what is it? Did you hate the cheese?"

"No, far from it! I have never tasted anything so delicious, even at banquets in the Capital. ...But the more I eat of it, the more my own unworthiness stings."

Bartos stared at his tightly clenched fist and lowered his voice.

"Master Garam has crafted treasures that will silence the neighboring lords, and Lady Elishua carves the formulas to manifest this magnificent 'Golden Cascade.' ...But what of me? I have neither the talent to create tangible wonders like Master Garam nor the skill to manipulate delicate arts like Lady Elishua. ...At this banquet, will the Knights be nothing more than a wall guarding the gates? The thought makes me feel... pathetic."

Master Garam, mouth full of cheese, tried to tease him, saying, "What are you talking about, Bartos? Your sword is top-tier," but Bartos’s expression remained dark.

(I see. Watching the creators thrive has made him feel like he’s just a security guard stuck in ops and maintenance. ...Bartos, you’ve got the wrong idea entirely.)

I leaned back in my Throne of Sloth and let out an exaggeratedly long sigh.

"Bartos, what are you saying? In this upcoming banquet, the most important factor in proving Felsen’s prestige is, without a doubt, the Knights."

Bartos snapped his head up as if he’d been struck.

"The Knights... are the most important?"

"Obviously. Chess is a proof of intellect, and cheese is a symbol of culture. But what is the foundation that supports them? It’s the hardware of violence. No matter how brilliant the software running on top is, if the underlying hardware is flimsy, the whole system will shut down from a single physical attack. You and your men are the survival guarantee for the Felsen system."

I pointed to the blueprint of the cheese fountain on the table.

"Neighboring lords might fall under the illusion that they could replicate Master Garam’s techniques or Elishua’s magic if they just had enough gold and time. ...But Bartos, what I want you to do is show them an overwhelming quality of power that they cannot even dream of replicating."

"A quality of power...?"

"Exactly. A single hero mowing down a thousand men is just an exception—a bug, so to speak. But a hundred or a thousand men moving simultaneously, without a single breath or a single centimeter out of place... that is a perfect system that transcends individual valor."

I operated my phone to pull up a video of a ceremonial drill—the flawless marching and movements of honor guards—and showed it to them.

"This is what you and your men are going to do. At the start of the banquet, the knights will march in perfect formation and stop in unison. That single stomp should make the earth tremble. Then, in the silence, everyone will draw their swords at the exact same moment and perform a sword salute. Raise the crossguard to nose height, holding the blade vertically. Point the blade toward yourselves and present the hilt to the guests. It says, 'My life is in your hands.' You will thrust that blind loyalty and discipline right in their faces with movements that don't vary by a hair’s breadth."

The look in Bartos’s eyes shifted from bewilderment to the sharp, focused light of a warrior.

"Everyone... perfectly synchronized. Killing the individual will to move as one giant entity... This would display our training and discipline more effectively than any magic or swordsmanship."

"Precisely. The neighboring lords who see that will think, 'These men will dive into the jaws of death with a single command.' It will become a psychological firewall stronger than any castle wall. Bartos, your role is to delete the very option of invading Felsen from their brains."

The hesitation from before had completely vanished from Bartos, replaced by a rising, steel-like aura of command.

"I understand. I, Bartos, swear upon my life to forge the Felsen Knights into the ultimate wall. I shall sear the beauty of our absolute discipline into their very souls!"

"Yeah, I’m counting on you. ...Alright, the plan is set."

***

After the three of them left like a passing storm, the living room was left with a comfortable silence and the lingering scent of cooling cheese.

(Good. I’ve assigned everyone their tasks. Now, I can go back to my quiet life of just watching the logs until the main event...)

"Mrow. (...There you go again, firing people up like that. You just ended up increasing everyone's workload. ...Though, that stiff old man did look happy.)"

I closed my eyes with satisfaction. The best software, the best presentation, and the strongest hardware. All that was left was to combine them and force a mandatory update on the legacy systems known as the neighboring territories.

...Or so I thought as I tried to wrap up my cool reflections.

"Hiss! (Wh—What is this?! It stinks! It stinks so much! You, do you actually plan to feed people this pile of rotting trash?!)"

Tama’s fur stood on end as she retreated to the corner of the room with a speed I had never seen before. From the top of the shelf by the window, she glared at me as if I were her worst enemy.

"Whoa, hey, Tama? Do you hate it that much? This is called fermentation. It’s a sophisticated chemical process—"

"Meow! (Don't come near me! You’re forbidden from touching me with those fingers! Delete that poison this instant!)"

Apparently, to my partner, the rich aroma of high-end cheese was detected as a "fatal stench." I let out a deep sigh as I watched Tama hide behind a cushion.

(Restoring Tama’s approval rating looks like it’s going to be a lot harder than planning a diplomatic strategy.)

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