Chapter 9: ① A Melting Sweetness Changes the World

—Softly, the air turned sweet.

In that instant, Celine forgot to breathe. Something had quietly—yet unmistakably—changed the air in the room.

It wasn’t just a scent. The rich presence of cacao seeped into her heart as if tracing the edges of old memories—sweet, and somehow a little bewitched.

(This aroma… could it be chocolate…? But was it ever this sweet?)

Back when she lived at the imperial court, there was a winter solstice banquet held only once a year.

Among nobles robed in gold and scarlet, there was a special dark-brown drink served to the chosen few.

It came from the Orhan Empire’s south—once home to the demonfolk, where they cultivated the “Fruit of the Gods,” cacao. Heated to a boil, spiced, and sweetened with honey, that hot drink was bitter, and yet it unspooled the heart in the strangest, gentlest way.

Now, that nostalgic fragrance drifted faintly—from the jewel box before her eyes.

“…How nostalgic. When I was in the Orhan Empire, only on the night of the Winter Solstice Festival… I had just a sip or two. If I recall…”

As Celine murmured, Yuuri smiled.

“That’s chocolate.”

At that single word, Lieselotte’s eyes widened.

“I’ve never had it… but you have, Mother.”

Celine nodded softly, her attention drawn once more to the sweet fragrance.

“Right. Cacao grows in the Orhan Empire’s south, doesn’t it?”

“Yes. In the Orhan Empire, it’s prized as a ‘medicine’ as well.”

“Medicine?”

Yuuri couldn’t help asking back.

“Indeed. For recovery from fatigue, to lift the spirits, and as an aphrodisiac—my parents took it.”

“…An aphrodisiac? Does it really do that?”

Celine gently picked up a single piece. The faint melt beneath her fingers told her it yielded to their warmth.

“…I’ll have one.”

With that, Celine lifted a piece to her lips. In that very moment—

fsssh—melt.

“…nn.”

A breath slipped from deep in Celine’s throat. Surprise and confusion—and the lightest touch of intoxication.

It responded to her warmth and dissolved in an instant, spreading across her tongue soft and sweet, utterly melting. The dense aroma of cacao filled her nose; a mellow richness soaked into the back of her throat.

“…m—mm… wh-what is this…!? It just fizzed and melted…! S-so… sweet…!”

Lieselotte let out a voice and lifted her hands to her cheeks without thinking. That porcelain-pale skin flushed, reddening before their eyes.

Eyes wide, speechless, she wavered in the lingering taste at her lips—and then, like a girl meeting her first love, let her gaze fall shyly.

Celine, too, kept her eyes lowered as she quietly savored the flavor.

(This is… an entirely different thing altogether.)

A gentle sweetness, blooming in her mouth. The depth of cacao, the smooth, sensuous glide across her tongue.

“M-Mother… this is… far too dangerous…”

Lieselotte’s lips quivered faintly. Yet her expression held surprise and happiness—and a touch of bewilderment.

A light flush colored her cheeks, and her eyes remained fixed on the jewel box.

“Liese… so you feel it too.”

“Yes. Even in the Orhan Empire, nothing of this caliber is obtainable…

And—this just slips in on its own…”

Lieselotte drew a small breath and whispered:

“…It’s like a sweet poison.”

At those words, something in Celine’s chest trembled.

(…Poison. Indeed.)

If she took one more—she felt she’d never come back. Heat pooled at the back of her throat, and her body yearned for that sweetness.

(Once you’ve known this taste, you can’t return to the time “before you knew.”)

This wasn’t just a confection. Whether she liked it or not, she understood how aberrant his power really was.

Those undergarments, and this chocolate—both made it feel like their “common sense” had never mattered in the first place.

(My lord husband… truly is beyond all measure.)

And if this power spreads—then the nation will change. Inevitably.

(If this is a weapon…)

(It rules desire.)

(…Isn’t it more frightening than a Hero?)

It slips in so naturally, and makes anyone a captive, so easily. Not a sword, not sorcery, but the power to bend people with things.

“If a nation can be moved by ‘the power of a merchant,’ I thought that would be ideal. But… this goes beyond that.”

At Celine’s murmur, Lieselotte’s voice lifted, tight with urgency.

“Even the Orhan Empire cannot obtain this! If we parade it as ‘the power of the Hero’—we won’t be deceiving our enemies, we’ll be summoning them!”

She stared at the jewel box, her voice trembling.

“Our kingdom… doesn’t have the strength to protect something like this…!”

Chapter 9: ② A Melting Sweetness Changes the World

“We do need to make a case for me as a Hero… but being overhyped and targeted? Hard pass.”

Muttering with his arms folded, the words sounded like a warning to himself. Show power, and they won’t look down on you. Show too much—and they’ll fear you, and crush you. Balance. In that world and in this one, it’s apparently a core skill.

Unfolding his hands from his lap, he found her watching him quietly.

“It is the same in the Orhan Empire. Show power, and people obey. But if you truly wish to make them follow, you must ‘make them believe.’ And never, ever ‘show your hand.’ The truly strong always hide their depths behind a smile.”

That smile said more than her words.

(What can he say… she’s the real deal…)

“…We, in the end, are not a ‘needed’ people.”

Sliding a finger around the rim of her teacup, Lieselotte spoke with measured restraint.

“To the Orhan Empire, silk is a luxury. They can outfit themselves with furs and cotton. Which is why we are seen as nothing more than ‘ornaments no one objects to having.’”

Pride and humiliation braided together in her voice.

“In a position like that, to be ‘honest’ and show everything—that is folly. If you bare all your power, they will analyze it, calculate it, counter it—and that will be the end.”

She clenched her fist tight.

“What we need is an ‘unpredictable piece.’ …Something whose very touch might cut; something no one can size up; something that leaves only suspicion behind. An inscrutable being like you—wearing the mask of a ‘Hero.’”

Then, lowering her eyes for a heartbeat, she added softly:

“…As galling as it is. For Oltania, that is the only way left to buy time.”

He said nothing, just letting her words sink in.

(—A country no one needs.)

(—To be needed, a Hero must wear the mantle of “mystery” no one needs.)

(Is there a better way?)

He had—

The Otherworld Shop.

Grace of Benevolence.

An inner-palace harem with hundreds of women.

Those are absurdly powerful cards, but if he plays them here, his involvement goes way too public.

(…Is there a neat ‘cover’ he can use?)

As he thought, a word surfaced—silk. Raise silkworms, reel the thread, then mass-produce bras and panties. Sell them abroad. A full-fledged “strategic lingerie industry.”

(If Oltania holds the routes for silk coming out of the Hakuou Empire, they might even angle for a market monopoly… maybe.)

Of course, Oltania isn’t the only export path from the Hakuou Empire. Silk flows through the Free City Alliance and into the Republic as well.

But—the Republic is a frigid land, ruled by the Great Ice Spirit. Silk feels wonderful on the skin, but as insulation, it’s fatally lacking.

(Meaning their demand won’t develop as easily. The Orhan Empire remains the prime market…)

Leaning into climate differences to carve out a “lingerie sphere” that isn’t about thermal underwear. While silk is still a luxury, drive its value as high as it will go. A so-called Hero aiming to become the hegemon of lingerie.

(…But underwear alone won’t rebuild a kingdom. He needs another piece. No, he needs a system that moves a lot more money…)

He lifted his head from his thoughts.

“Celia, do we have a map of the country?”

At his call, Celine nodded softly, then glanced to Aina.

“Aina, if you would.”

“Yes, right away.”

With a small bow, Aina left the room on quiet feet.

A short while later. She returned and, with careful hands, spread a map across the desk.

With the dry scent of parchment, all of Oltania unfurled quietly before them.

(Somewhere… there has to be a place or a resource that can be the “axis” for rebuilding the nation.)

(Think back to the game. If this world really mirrors that system—there must be something.)

Letting his eyes run across the map, he sifted through possibilities in his head.

(For quick national recovery, resources come first. Mines, iron, silver, magistone…)

(If they find a vein they can export, revenue and jobs rebound in a hurry.)

(Else… transport hubs. Trade routes. If checkpoints and ports are developed, value can be skimmed off logistics. Tax revenues follow.)

(…A hot springs region for tourism. Forest belts for timber and hunting products. Strong water sources for waterwheels and agricultural expansion…)

Tracing a corner of the map with a fingertip, his thoughts gathered heat.

(There’s no such thing as useless land. If it seems useless, it’s just undiscovered. Then he’ll dig up this country’s “win condition” himself.)

His gaze, sweeping the map, stopped at a single point.

“…What’s here?”

At his murmur, Celine let her eyes fall and answered quietly.

“That is the Barony of Rehbelk. Once, the former king’s younger brother rose in revolt, and that is where the final battle was fought.”

When Celine paused, a hush fell. Filling that silence, Lieselotte reached for her teacup beside him—then set it back down untouched as she continued.

“Now… it’s a shadow of what it was. But it used to hold its own. The roads were sound, the land fertile—and the Adventurers’ Guild was lively. For a ‘barony,’ it was by no means in a bad position.”

She winced, just for a heartbeat.

“But… war’s scars don’t fade so easily. Most of the people scattered. Even now, only a few have returned.”

Her voice was steady, but beneath it, the stain of grief and outrage over a land’s tarnished honor was unmistakable.

(…And that’s why it’s perfect. A place once abandoned—for a phony Hero’s entrance, it’s just right.)

(A place no one can touch. A land no one expects anything from. Then— he’ll renovate it into hope.)