?Catherine approached Howard with a bright smile, her curiosity evident. .

“Did you enjoy your trip to Brague? I heard there were knightly tournaments, and my sisters were all so intrigued by it.”

Howard responded politely, choosing not to shatter Catherine’s illusions by mentioning the perfunctory nature of the Bohemia and Phrus duel.

Catherine, delighted with his response, busied herself with arranging the fruits on the table.

She picked out a large, round apple and instructed her maid to slice it.

As Howard spoke, her eyes seemed to light up with joy, clearly entertained by the tales of gallant knights in shining armor, astride their steeds.

Howard could only chuckle in response, thinking to himself that perhaps cavalry was only good for show.

In his mind, he doubted their effectiveness against spear formations or firearms on the battlefield.

The utility of cavalry had always been a topic of debate, one that Howard had pondered over many times and discussed with audacious figures like Charles, without reaching a definitive conclusion.

So, aside from his chuckles, Howard refrained from expressing any opinions on knights or cavalry.

As Catherine fed Howard a slice of apple, he chewed thoughtfully, turning his attention to the fruit.

Catherine brought up the topic of the recent duel: “So, you’re saying that Baron Riyatt of Phrus won the duel?”

She mused, “That means the empire’s emperor is now that ambitious man from Phrus. Do you think this will bring about a new era for the empire?”

Howard gazed down at the apple slice and replied noncommittally, “It’s hard to say.”

He then proceeded to recount the specific details of the banquet to Catherine, sharing the intricacies of the event.

The dynamics between Catherine, her family’s maids, and Howard underwent a significant transformation.

Initially, there was a lively back-and-forth conversation and quiet discussions among the maids.

However, as Howard continued, a hushed silence fell over the group.

Catherine, covering her mouth with both hands, expressed her concern to Howard, “But what if Phrus holds a grudge against us for your actions and decides to attack us?”

Howard’s smile was strained, a mere semblance of reassurance.

“Well, there’s not much I can do about that.”

Catherine, slightly annoyed, pushed Howard’s shoulder and retorted, “What do you mean you can’t do anything? You’re the king. If you’re helpless, what about everyone else?”

Howard stood up and slowly walked to an open space, his expression troubled, and said, “Honestly, when it comes to war, if we really can’t hold our own, what then?”

He paused before adding, “If we truly can’t stand against them, then I’m at a loss as well.”

A young maid, recently recruited into the family, burst into tears, overwhelmed by the gravity of the situation.

Howard sighed softly, his back turned to everyone, the weight of his responsibility palpable.

The morning sun streamed through the windows, bathing the room in a warm glow.

It was then that Catherine, as if grasping at straws, remembered Neplon.

She excitedly suggested to Howard, “Why don’t you consult with the Minister of War, Neplon? Hasn’t he been training those conscripted soldiers to become a standing army?”

Howard’s thoughts turned to Neplon, and he couldn’t help but compare him favorably with Frederick.

This gave him a bit of reassurance.

Deciding to act, Howard prepared to summon Alonso to call for Neplon.

In Howard’s perspective, Alonso had always been somewhat unremarkable, a vassal resembling more a steward or an attendant than anything else.

However, Alonso was not present.

Catherine explained, “Oh, you’re looking for Alonso? He’s risen in stature since marrying Boshni. With the combined power of two ducal houses, he now holds significant influence in the kingdom. It’s unlikely he’d humbly serve as your messenger now.”

Consequently, Howard sent a regular attendant to summon Neplon.

Neplon arrived wearing a hat with protruding ends, a blue military uniform adorned with copper-gold buttons, and a ceremonial sword at his waist.

Howard could tell that Neplon was also a man of ambition.

Howard inquired about the transformation of the ‘Black Army.’ Neplon reported that the conversion was almost complete and had gone smoothly.

“The national army currently stands at 22000 strong, with 10000 infantry, 5000 cavalry, and 7000 artillerymen,” he said.

Howard asked, “If Phrus attacks us, without considering allied support, do you have confidence in repelling them?”

Neplon responded, “My capabilities are on par with Frederick’s. Ultimately, it will depend on the nation’s war potential. Forgive my frankness, Your Majesty, but you are too kind and lenient.”

“Though Phrus’ lands were once considered barren by the continent, their militarized management means every household contributes soldiers according to their jurisdiction. Each district must supply a certain number of troops, so they are hardly lacking in manpower.”

“Since their systemic reforms, manpower supply for various lands in Phrus has been very efficient. Currently, Phrus has an upper limit of over seventy thousand reserve soldiers.”

Howard remained silent for a moment before asking, “What is the combined upper limit of reserve soldiers for our Oli and Oungria regions, as well as the other territories?”

Neplon answered, “Though our land is much larger than Phrus, the total only comes to a little over eighty thousand. If war breaks out and our casualties are significantly higher than the enemy’s, we may not be able to replenish our forces quickly enough, potentially exhausting our reserve soldiers before the enemy does.”

Howard paced thoughtfully and then inquired, “What is the current number of registered reserve soldiers against our upper limit of eighty thousand?”

“With military mobilization and financial subsidies from the Minister of Finance, we have now reached the upper limit of over eighty thousand reserve soldiers,” Neplon replied.

After a brief consideration, Howard said, “Well, we don’t know the exact number of Phrus’ reserves, but that might not be the decisive factor on the battlefield. The key to victory always lies in winning each battle. Tell me, what is the current level of training and morale among our Oli troops?”

Neplon hesitated before honestly responding, “To tell you the truth, they are nowhere near as prepared as Phrus.

I fear that in a crucial moment, they may not hold up, leading to a defeat that could snowball into a complete rout.”

With a troubled expression, Howard said, “In that case, it’s better not to engage Phrus in battle. As I’ve said before, there’s no need for a life-and-death struggle over such a vast continent. We should focus more on the development of the New World. If we build it up properly, we will be no less formidable than Phrus.”

Neplon was taken aback. .

“So, you’re suggesting we just ignore Phrus?”

Howard waved his hand dismissively as a response.

Subsequently, Howard sent Bosiden to Kenisburg to inquire if Frederick was still willing to join forces against Osland Kingdom.

Before departing, Bosiden was visibly anxious.

Howard reassured him, “When you meet Frederick, don’t panic. You don’t need to say anything extra. Just directly ask him if our prior agreement to jointly attack Osland Kingdom still stands.”

“If he agrees, tell him to move his troops towards the Balgen Peninsula, as I am ready to declare war on Osland Kingdom at any moment. If he starts to negotiate terms, turn around and leave immediately. Don’t engage with him. Remember, the moment he starts setting conditions, don’t entertain him.”

Bosiden nodded, somewhat bewildered.

In the increasingly complex and significant world of diplomacy, Bosiden, a vassal who had risen from Yami Village, felt increasingly out of his depth.

Howard considered him an excellent domestic administrator but treated him as a standard diplomat in foreign affairs.

Upon his arrival in Kenisburg, Bismarck intimidated Bosiden, giving him a rough welcome.

Bosiden nearly fell off his horse but remembered Howard’s teachings and managed to hold the reins tight.

His brown steed reared, neighing loudly, but fortunately did not throw Bosiden off.

Shaken, Bosiden dismounted and patted his brown horse, appreciating its steadfastness and resolving to care for it well upon his return.

Standing before Frederick, Bosiden was trembling.

Since becoming emperor, Frederick exuded an even more domineering and fearsome aura.

Thankfully, Bosiden had been well instructed by Howard on how to handle the situation.

He followed Howard’s advice to the letter.

Bismarck cast a sharp glance at Bosiden and remarked slyly, “Ah, but your king criticized our emperor at the last banquet. Bosiden, Minister of Foreign Affairs of Oli Kingdom, how do you think your kingdom should compensate us?”

Bosiden was about to respond, but recalling Howard’s instructions, he stiffened like a piece of iron and turned to leave abruptly.

His heart was racing with fear.

Though Bosiden understood that, as a diplomat, he was generally safe from harm in a foreign court, the combination of Frederick, Bismarck, and the surrounding soldiers with their grim faces and flintlock guns nearly brought him to tears.

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