The Regressed Princess - Chapter 43

Chapter 43: The Future of Tangled Lines; Will Miscella Become a Good King?

Will Miscella become a good king? Eleanor did not know.

She had neither the inclination nor the power to change the current outcome; she simply wanted to go home, deep down, and return to Enlin as quickly as possible. Thus, after Miscella’s coronation ceremony concluded, the sister of the new king took her personal guard and vanished from the capital in a flash, returning to Enlin.

Miscella was quite generous to those who had served her. She quickly married her fiancée and appointed her helpful partners to official posts one by one. The warriors and slave-soldiers who had assisted in the battle were granted housing, freedom, and a vast amount of treasure. She opened doors of convenience for the Marigold Chamber of Commerce at the border, reducing miscellaneous taxes while writing letters to lords asking them to give her sister more face.

However, the closer a place was to the capital, the more cautious she became. Miscella discussed it with Eleanor and nationalized the post houses and manors on the outskirts of the capital, no longer opening them to the public. This was normal; an emperor needs to fully secure their own power.

Eleanor was too lazy to think deeply about it. She devoted more of her energy to supervising the chamber of commerce, improving various tools, and contacting shipbuilders. She maintained a certain level of contact with the capital, but more often sent people to the Land of Lakes, Belay, to assess the situation, lest the roving commissioners of the chamber of commerce be mistaken for spies by Miscella.

The next three years were calm. Nothing became much better, and nothing became much worse. The title of “Mediocre King,” which had hovered over Ophelia’s head in the previous life, now rested upon Miscella’s crown.

Eleanor actually breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing this news. Good, at least Miscella isn’t causing chaos, and the people around her are relatively normal. Once Miscella ascended the throne, she reshuffled many ministers and the talents recommended by her sister; heaven knows who surrounds her now. Fortunately, the Royal Sister isn’t stupid; she probably won’t be fooled too badly by them, right?

Progress on Eleanor’s side was quite smooth. With the addition of the great scholar Parna, she successfully established a preliminary rural medical system in Enlin. Eleanor had discovered in her previous life that the general medical level of this world was very low. Take poison, for example: some great clans like the Nolanna royalty possessed poisons with marvelous effects. But ordinary people in the folk only knew how to use natural snakes and herbs, knowing nothing of concoction.

Poison can use natural toxins directly, but when it comes to medicine, things are even more awkward. Because the difference between warriors and ordinary people is vast, the infection rate on the battlefield is relatively low; even with severe limb infections, many can recover on their own.

Consequently, there are even fewer scholars who care about commoners or slaves. Many believe death is due to reasons like “differences in divine grace” or “physical quality”—that it is what the patient deserves. Thus, they do not improve treatment methods, lest they accidentally cure a “person who deserves to die.”

As soon as Eleanor arrived in Enlin, she forced the popularization of preventive measures like boiling water, frequent hand-washing, and using soap. However, regarding medicine, it still took a long time to replicate her past-life operations step-by-step, only showing small results now. She recorded the ratios for a portion of medicines while quietly waiting for the date the great ship would launch.

There were no more regression chances in this life. Every day, Eleanor set aside a long period to repeatedly memorize important blueprints, prescriptions, and personal information.

Another year passed peacefully, and the future of Nolanna seemed to undergo no major changes. Miscella somewhat sheepishly asked her for more tax money in a letter, the reason being simple: the border was developing so well that it naturally should pay more taxes to replenish the national treasury.

Eleanor was too lazy to bicker, nor did she chase her sister for the formal titles and offices she had “forgotten” to grant her. She traveled among the city-states under the title of Great Lord of the Border and her status as a Princess, maintaining her vast but loose influence.

Some pioneers appeared on lands that had been completely barren. They built small villages around post houses and wells, which then merged into small towns… The local lords pretended to see nothing, and no one demanded money from these villages. They defaulted to treating them as the Princess’s private reserve. As for the crowds busy on that land freed slaves and commoners who were neither beautiful nor brave enough no one cared.

As time passed, Princess Eleanor’s naive idea that “everyone needs a salary” did not change. There were always some nobles who, in order to please the Princess or learn her fashionable money-making experiences, released a portion of slaves to become freemen or issued bonuses called salaries to their household servants.

The world did not turn for the worse; or rather, everything was flourishing.

However, time continued to flow until the spring of the fifth year, when a thunderbolt struck from Hetuya! Their wolf king, Aguño who was in her prime was dead!

How did Aguño die? That was hard to say. Some said it was a pure accident; Aguño fell into a valley while hunting and had the bad luck to encounter a sudden mountain fire, resulting in her being “braised.” Others said Aguño was too arrogant and accidentally offended a reincarnated deity, so she was struck by lightning and died in the fire caused by the strike.

The two aforementioned theories spread wildly, but those in the know still felt she died of assassination. There were two main suspects: the two Princesses of Hetuya, Second Princess Alissa and Third Princess Andra. There was another theory with a loud voice saying it was indeed an assassination, but the assassin was sent by Nolanna. After all, Nolanna and Hetuya were ancient enemies. Didn’t the King of Nolanna, Eva, and the Eldest Princess of Hetuya, Atilla, perish one after another just a few years ago?

At that time, the matter was argued to pieces. Nolanna claimed their King’s cause of death was suspicious and her remains were tragic; perhaps the Eldest Princess of Hetuya set herself on fire out of guilt after poisoning her. Hetuya claimed their Eldest Princess’s death was the suspicious one; she had gone happily to celebrate a birthday and ended up dead in your forest, her body charred to charcoal—what else was there to say?

Nolanna had a guilty conscience, and the ministers desperately stopped Miscella, who wanted to go on a grand expedition; they presented a string of voluminous debt reports, scaring the new King back into her throne instantly. Meanwhile, Hetuya had barely scraped together enough rations over these years and didn’t want to waste population for nothing. They didn’t care much about one Princess; a good child can always be replaced. Moreover, it was a King who had died on the other side; if they really pushed it, they wouldn’t come out on top.

Thus, the cold case between the two nations was shelved, only to be raised again recently. But raising it was just a mention; Hetuya’s subsequent development was very strange… or rather, very normal?

The chaos of two kings fighting did not appear. The younger Princess, Andra, was the legitimate heir in name and possessed breaking strength in reality. Perhaps she did not hesitate to use conspiracies in the dark and gained the support of tribal chiefs through various benefit exchanges. But in the end, what allowed Andra to settle the matter with unimaginable speed was her incomparable power.

Andra set aside her legitimate status and directly followed the oldest custom of the grasslands the Battle of the Wolf King Chasing the Sun. The dispute between legions was forcibly restricted to the one hundred bravest warriors recognized by Hetuya. Each of them was a renowned martial artist; during the hunting season, their mere appearance could easily attract a large group of followers. The warriors surrounded the Princess to whom they had sworn loyalty and charged toward the opposing Princess.

How strong was Andra? Very strong. How strong is “very strong”? People’s original concepts vanished quietly after Andra drew her sword.

Clang.

Her sword shattered Alissa’s defense, sending her sister reeling back.

A struggle? No, Andra was clearly on horseback, yet the movement of swinging her long sword was as if she were dancing freely on level ground.

Ha, hahaha—

She did not speak, she only laughed, laughing heartily and thoroughly. Three, two, one. The onlookers seemed to see the God of War clapping behind her, while the God’s attendants floated by, counting for her. One, two, three…

So many long-famed warriors lost their heads and arms just like that. They were much older than the Princesses, and their recognized strength and talent seemed like the lowliest joke before Andra. This was a wasteful, luxurious slaughter. Andra was too strong—did she really need those 99 people to surround her?

The blood-drenched battlefield became the stage for her wanton rampage. The others couldn’t even be considered backup dancers; they were merely blades of grass being briskly harvested by a scythe in the background.

If Eleanor were watching the battle at this moment, she would surely sigh and say: “It turns out that diligent practice is actually quite useful for a genius of this level.” Without a love-struck little princess dragging her down in this life, and with the addition of Nolanna’s best swordsmanship mentor, the young Andra already possessed the demeanor of the future Saint-King Anya.

Eleanor, having not gone to the grasslands, naturally did not see Andra’s hearty performance. But when the written report was slapped onto her desk, she still let out a marmot-like scream: “Aaah, Aguño she’s dead?!”

Three years! Three years earlier than the past life! Andra, you guy didn’t even hesitate to move against your mother. And Alissa, you’re way too weak! If you couldn’t last three years, you could have at least stalled her for three months. Kneeling in three rounds what kind of useless little snack are you!

Eleanor paced back and forth in her study in a huff. This was bad. Her original plan was based on six years; she didn’t expect Andra’s speed to be a year faster than six. She didn’t even have the chance to escape by boat now.

Wait, why am I escaping? Eleanor supported herself against the desk and stopped. This life is different from the last. Andra is stronger, but—uh—Miscella is still alive. The faces of Miscella and Andra appeared alternately, placed on the left and right of a scale.

Thump!

The weight on the right crashed heavily to the floor. Hiss… it seems her being alive isn’t of much use.

This time, neither Nolanna nor Hetuya had experienced a long civil war; in this regard, they were tied. But considering the combat power of the king and the army, their only favorable condition was likely that Hetuya hadn’t experienced the cold famine yet, so the citizens weren’t very driven to fight to the death. However, given Andra’s personality… she would surely look for trouble everywhere after her coronation.

Eleanor slumped into her chair and picked up a pen to write to Miscella. The nib flowed with ink, pouring out voluminous text. She gave her sister a thorough analysis, the sole central idea being: Train your troops quickly, train them to death, adopt a defensive formation, and hold on for me!

She had never seen anyone win against Andra on the battlefield, but what if a stray sword or arrow caught her by chance? Although Andra’s personal combat power was stronger in this life, many of the generals she originally possessed were poached by Eleanor, so she could only use Hetuyans to fill the gaps. Furthermore, accessories like horseshoes, saddles, and stirrups had not yet been “invented,” so the combat power gap between the two armies should be slightly smaller than in the past life.

Eleanor wrote seriously all afternoon. She packaged a mountain of intelligence along with the voluminous analysis and encouragement. After thinking about it, she called an attendant while sealing the letter and had her take a meticulously forged sword from the warehouse to be sent to Miscella together.

She understood her Royal Sister all too well. Without a conspicuous accompanying gift, Miscella would likely only sigh and open the envelope after some time. By then, she might look up to see Andra already waving from beneath the city walls.

Eleanor scrutinized the shimmering, cold blade in her hand with a complex mood. After her rebirth, she still remembered the iron-smelting process she had improved in her previous life. Thus, upon arriving in Enlin, she quickly contacted various skilled craftsmen, used new blast furnaces in coordination with coke, and meticulously manufactured a large number of high-quality iron products, including a small amount of steel. This sword was actually a fine steel sword cast with a massive amount of manpower and resources. Since more than one type of ore was refined, it was also the first alloy sword.

This sword belonged to Andra in the past life. To build momentum for Andra, Eleanor had specifically fabricated a story about the Lady of the Lake, so everyone would believe in Andra’s destiny. Those stories from the past life seem unnecessary now; let me give it to Miscella in this life.

Eleanor stroked the smooth surface of the blade, the lake of her heart gradually calming. Even as the attendant left with the letter and the sword, there were no ripples.

What should I do next? Eleanor’s brain began to go blank. Her usually fast-moving mind stagnated, as if instinctively giving up thought in the face of difficulty. What else can I do? Rely entirely on Miscella?

No, she was certain deep down: even if she dragged Miscella down and sat on the throne herself, assuming all other conditions remained the same, she would be unable to defeat Andra.

The reason she used gunpowder when dealing with Atilla was to test whether gunpowder could still exert its original power in this world. Although the Eleanor of the past life had also produced basic gunpowder, Andra had no use for such fancy things in war. Considering that introducing gunpowder might escalate the intensity of war, the Eleanor of the past life stopped before this technology tree. Anyway, if gunpowder was useful enough, future generations would continue the research.

Unfortunately, the experimental results in this life were not optimistic. She had the Princess Guard use gunpowder arrows to ambush Atilla, and the result was that most of the damage was caused by the fire. Even though the explosion was so close to Atilla, she was still able to run out alive and well to hack at people, ultimately being killed by cold weapons.

This meant the warriors of this world had an extremely high resistance to gunpowder. Even if she could mass-produce black gunpowder, she would likely be unable to bridge the gap between them and Andra. Moreover, once Hetuya mastered the production of gunpowder during the war, they would likely use it in reverse for sieges, making it easier for them to eliminate Nolanna’s vital forces.

“Phew…” How to get through this round? Eleanor touched the golden pendant on her chest, her palm wrapping around its smooth petal.

The only way is a battle to the death.

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