Bellona

Baldwin strode into the village, his crimson eyes sharp with irritation. His cloak billowed slightly as he moved, his mind fixed on one goal—payment.

"That little bastard!" he muttered, clenching his fists. "Daring to lie to me… He didn't even bother to show up. If he refuses again…" Baldwin cracked his knuckles, his lips curling into a smirk. "I might just blow his house to bits."

The village had always been quiet, but today, something was different. As he moved through the narrow paths, he noticed a large crowd gathered in the village center. Curious, he slowed his pace.

Soldiers—Rance Republic soldiers—stood in formation, their presence commanding attention. At the front, an officer with a crisp uniform held a white parchment. The murmuring villagers fell silent as he raised the document and began to read.

"During this great and dangerous pandemic, world wars have been temporarily halted—for the next two to three thousand years."

For a moment, time seemed to freeze. Then, an eruption of joy tore through the crowd.

Tears glistened in the eyes of old farmers who had seen too many battles. Mothers clutched their children as if shielding them from a war that had finally loosened its grip. Strangers embraced one another, laughing through their sobs.

Baldwin watched, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. He had seen too much of the world to be easily moved. But something about the sight of pure relief on their faces stirred an unfamiliar thought within him.

"What if the world always stayed this way? What if peace wasn't just a temporary illusion? Maybe… maybe there really could be a better future."

The soldier cleared his throat, commanding silence once more.

"But this decision did not come by chance," he continued. "All the great powers came together, not through force, but through a shared truth. And because of that, a great change is coming. A school will be built in this village. The town will be developed. A medical center will be established. And three kilometers from here, deep within the forest, a new city will rise. Roads are already being paved. A new future begins today."

The villagers gasped, then another wave of cheers erupted.

"The government will bear the cost of treatment for all citizens of this city," the soldier went on. "But before we celebrate too soon, we must first understand the terms of this peace agreement."

The crowd leaned in, hanging on every word.

"First," the soldier announced, "no major power shall claim ownership over these two cities. They will govern themselves, free from outside rule."

Excited murmurs swept through the crowd.

"Second," he continued, "all taxes on goods entering or leaving these cities will be abolished. No merchant shall use taxation as an excuse to raise prices."

People gasped. Some of the local traders exchanged hopeful glances. This would change everything.

"Third," the soldier declared, "these cities will welcome all races—humans, demons, vampires, dwarves. But should conflict arise, you must not take justice into your own hands. The administration will see to it that the law is upheld fairly."

The crowd shifted uneasily at the mention of demons and vampires. But the soldier pressed on.

"And lastly," he said, "all citizens of these cities shall be free to travel anywhere in the world. However, official citizenship must first be obtained."

The village erupted into cheers once more. It was as if an entire generation of suffering had finally found relief.

Baldwin, watching from the sidelines, smirked. He wasn't interested in politics, nor did he care much for treaties, but he knew one thing—this little village was about to change forever. It would be the first neutral city in the world.

With that thought, he turned on his heel, his smirk widening.

"Now then, time to deal with that little rat, Mr. Smith."

And with purposeful steps, he made his way toward the debtor's house, his shadow flickering ominously in the morning sun.

Baldwin reached Mr. Smith's house, only to find that the man himself was nowhere in sight. Instead, his daughter, Bellona, greeted him at the door with a soft smile.

"Baldwin, please come in! Father isn't here at the moment, but you can wait inside, right? You're free, aren't you? I'm sure he'll be back soon," Bellona said, stepping aside to let him in.

Baldwin hesitated for a brief moment, narrowing his crimson eyes at her before shrugging. "Fine. I'll wait for him—since you asked."

Without another word, he stepped inside, his presence commanding, brushing past her as he moved deeper into the house. Bellona frowned slightly at his rough manner but said nothing.

"What's wrong with him today?" she wondered, watching him curiously. "He seems… different. Almost irritated."

Baldwin entered the drawing room and dropped onto the sofa, lounging lazily. He threw one leg over the other, leaning into the plush cushions with an air of arrogance, his fingers tapping against the armrest.

"What would you like to drink? Juice or coffee?" Bellona asked politely.

"Anything and everything you have. Well—so long as it's edible," Baldwin replied with a smirk.

Bellona chuckled. "Coffee and cookies it is then, Sir Baldwin." She turned toward the kitchen.

As she left, Baldwin's sharp gaze wandered around the room. His eyes landed on an intriguing painting hanging on the wall.

It depicted the First War, the moment humanity had begun using beast weapons in large-scale battles. The focal point of the piece was a lone warrior, standing defiant with a massive cannon, facing an entire army by himself. The scene was painted with striking intensity—flames consuming the battlefield, bodies strewn across the land, and the warrior's unwavering stance against impossible odds.

Baldwin tilted his head slightly, examining the details.

"Hah… Brave bastard," he muttered under his breath, a flicker of admiration crossing his face.

Just then, the heavy sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the house.

The door to the drawing room burst open.

"Why the hell are you here?!" a gruff voice snapped.

Baldwin turned his gaze lazily toward the source. His smirk widened as he locked eyes with the man standing in the doorway—none other than Mr. Smith himself.

"Why wouldn't I be here?" Baldwin shot back smoothly, leaning further into the sofa. His expression was unreadable, but his voice carried a dangerous edge.

The tension in the room thickened.

"Listen! You shouldn't just barge into my house without a reason," Mr. Smith said, crossing his arms.

Baldwin smirked, his crimson eyes narrowing. "Without a reason, huh? You do realize I could hurt you without hesitation, right?" His voice carried an edge of dangerous amusement.

Mr. Smith let out a scoff. "Says the guy who lost control the moment the labyrinth overflow started."

Before their conversation could escalate, the door creaked open, and Bellona walked in.

"Oh, Papa, you're here?" she said cheerfully, oblivious to the tension in the room.

"Yes, did something happen?" Mr. Smith asked, his expression softening slightly.

"No, nothing at all. Would you like something to drink, Papa?" she asked sweetly, placing the coffee and cookies in front of Baldwin.

"Nah, I don't need anything, my dear. Just take a rest," Mr. Smith replied with a small smile.

As Bellona left the room, a brief silence settled between the two men. It was Baldwin who broke it.

"So… where's Bellona's mother?" he asked, his voice unusually calm.

A heavy pause followed. Mr. Smith's face darkened, his eyes clouding with sorrow.

"She died… from the Homa disease," he said quietly.

Baldwin's expression softened just a fraction. "My apologies for the question."

"It's okay, Baldwin. I don't mind," Mr. Smith said, shaking his head. "Now, let's get to business. Why are you here?"

Baldwin straightened. "I came for the payment. You've been delaying it for too long, so here I am. Business is business."

Mr. Smith sighed and walked over to a table in the corner of the room. He pulled out a leather pouch and placed it on the tea table with a heavy thud.

"Here—550 Gold Roins. That was the market value yesterday," he said.

Baldwin raised an eyebrow. "So, the market value changes every day, huh?"

"Yes. The market's been declining, and it'll drop even more now that the war has stopped. As of today, the crystal price is only 234 Gold Roins," Mr. Smith explained.

Baldwin clicked his tongue. "That's bad news for beast hunters." He stood up, ready to leave, but just as he turned, Mr. Smith stopped him.

"Wait! Baldwin, take this." Mr. Smith handed him three stone-made cards. "These are for you, Lady Velisara, and Lady Olivia."

Baldwin took the cards, inspecting them. "What's this?"

"The reason I was delaying your payment was because I wanted to give you these. They're nationality cards," Mr. Smith said.

Baldwin let out an impressed whistle. "Wow, that was fast. Well, I should get going now."

Just as he was one step away from the door, Mr. Smith stopped him again.

Baldwin groaned. "What now?"

"Listen. Soon, you'll see a school being built. Would you be interested in joining?" Mr. Smith asked.

Baldwin raised an eyebrow before chuckling. "A school? At my age?"

"I listed your age as fifteen. From now on, if anyone asks, you're fifteen years old. It's a high school," Mr. Smith said with a knowing smirk.

Baldwin rolled his eyes. "I'll think about it."

"And ask Lady Velisara too," Mr. Smith added.

With a smirk, Baldwin tucked the nationality cards into his pocket and finally left.