Alicetia-Style Court-Martial & Cat Takeover
“The war tribunal will now commence.”
I announced this flatly, without expression.
The defendants were imperial royalty, nobles, and senior officers who had led armies into Arland territory. Their total number exceeded five hundred.
I hold the proper qualifications as a royal judicial magistrate, so I can serve as judge. Not that it matters—under Arland’s military law, the commanding officer can act as judge in wartime anyway.
“The Granzur Empire has long harbored ambitions toward our homeland. From Arland’s standpoint, we demand the ultimate penalty. In accordance with kingdom law, death is appropriate.”
A knight fluently read out their charges. To put it simply: they invaded Arland. That alone, under kingdom law, warrants the death penalty.
The defense immediately objected.
“This is the Granzur Empire. We demand the trial be conducted under international law, or under imperial law! The cause of this war lies with Arland’s refusal to follow the policies of the Central Nations Alliance. The Empire is the victim here!”
“……”
Lawyers really are the same everywhere, huh.
I sighed.
“The Granzur Empire has already accepted unconditional surrender. Our Arland army occupies the imperial capital. Therefore, international law does not apply—we will use the laws of the Arland Kingdom.
As for why: our nation is not a member of the Central Nations Alliance, nor have we ratified international law.”
Honestly, I don’t give a damn about international law. I know what it says, but it’s nothing more than an unequal system favoring the great powers. If I tried these people under it, most would get off with a prison term, and somehow Arland would be paying reparations. Whoever wrote that nonsense is an idiot.
The Central Nations Alliance is just a body to protect the interests of the three major powers—an organization without a shred of fairness.
Think of it as the UN, only worse—far more corrupt, far more useless, nothing but a big-power club.
Still, since they kept shouting, I handed down sentences.
“This one, death.”
“This one, acquitted.”
“From here to here, death.”
“This one, acquitted.”
“““““““Tyranny!”””””””
“Don’t like it?”
“““““““Of course we don’t!”””””””
Honestly, I’d already gone easy on them.
“These rulings already take into account every argument of the defense, granting maximum leniency.”
Being born in the Empire really is pitiful. I sympathized, and reduced the sentences—so why are they angry? I don’t get it.
“… And just where, exactly, is the leniency?”
The defense counsel snapped, glaring at me. Should I just put a bullet in his forehead?
“In precedent, there are roughly 2,000 cases where imperial prisoners were tried for invasion of kingdom territory. The minimum sentence was six months of torture followed by a public execution.
Taking into account the enormous damage this invasion inflicted, one year of torture followed by public execution would be appropriate.
But in consideration of the fact they were merely born in the Granzur Empire, I reduced the penalty to execution without torture.”
The official reason for leniency: being born in the Empire. And it’s true—if they’d been born anywhere else, geography would’ve made such an invasion impossible. In other words, the Empire itself is the crime.
Not that I’d say this to their faces, but here’s the real reason: do they know what torturing five hundred people for a year would mean? The interrogators would drop dead from overwork. We’ve only got thirty torturers in all of Arland. Keeping this many prisoners alive for a year would be impossible.
And then there’s the cost. Keeping five hundred alive for a year means food, medical care to keep them from dying under torture, guards—the bill would be enormous. That’s all paid with taxpayers’ money. What a waste.
The prosecution knight realized this first—his expression screamed ah. Being in the military, he knows full well how strapped for cash the Arland government is. No way we’re spending tax money just to keep them alive. I certainly wouldn’t pay out of my own pocket.
So, execution without torture. Efficient, merciful, and cheap.
For reference: the crime of territorial invasion applies only if someone physically crossed into kingdom land. Those who never once entered Arland are acquitted. But every royal, noble, and senior officer who did step foot into Arland territory—without exception—is sentenced to death. Simple, straightforward law.
Of course, since the minimum penalty is death, even “leniency” doesn’t change that outcome. Throughout Arland’s history, no one convicted of territorial invasion has ever received anything less. The bald-headed mob before me were no exception.
“Court adjourned.”
“W-wait! Such tyranny cannot be allowed!”
“They’re noisy. Take them away. If they resist, you can rough them up a little. They’re dead men anyway.”
If they resist, restraining them by force is inevitable. A few went silent after a knight’s clothesline. In Arland, “a little rough” might mean death for an imperial, so the knights had to be careful.
Best to finish such nuisances quickly. Too lenient? It’s within my authority. If anyone in Arland complains, I can silence them with budgetary threats. What matters is that the trial took place. To outsiders, we can simply say justice was duly served.
Next up: the imperial senate.
They hadn’t participated in the invasion, being palace nobles, so they were technically innocent. But their faces were pale as death.
Naturally. The reparations bill I demanded they ratify was brutal.
First: reparations equal to half the empire’s tax revenue. Knowing they’d never pay in full, I made it subject to forced collection. And when we opened the treasury, it was nearly empty.
Well, of course. They’d mobilized three million troops. Even for the continent’s largest nation, that scale of mobilization would bankrupt the treasury.
Why such a reckless invasion? They thought crushing Arland would yield masses of slaves. Elves and dwarves are rare in the central continent and fetch high prices. Plus, they’d tighten tribute from vassals, and if they seized my inventions, all would be solved. That idiot emperor truly believed so.
Who are the real barbarians here? The empire, clearly. They didn’t need plunder to survive. They just wanted me. But I won’t be shackled.
Some may think I’m bound to Arland, but if I ever got truly angry, I could leave. And stopping me would be near impossible. Arland knows this—hence why they keep the leash light and otherwise let me do as I please. Any other nation would’ve slapped invention quotas on me. And I would’ve refused. I’d probably have slipped poison gas into my inventions and staged terrorist attacks.
If this were Earth, I’d inject a virus into the stock market and crash every stock to a dollar. But this world doesn’t have a stock market, so retaliation has to be direct.
So yes, I was threatening the senate to pass the reparations law. With the emperor gone, the senate held supreme power. If they passed it, I’d have legal grounds to seize assets from lords who still resisted.
The reparations law: nobles must make up any shortfall in reparations from their personal wealth. Everything they own would be confiscated until the bill was paid. Ruthless—but effective. No wonder the bald old men turned pale.
“By the way, isn’t it nothing but balds in this empire?”
““““That’s your doing!!””””
“Problem?”
Fitting, really. The Arlandians couldn’t even look at them without laughing.
By the way, those who demanded the Elixir of Life were tossed in prison on charges of lèse-majesté. My very first time using that law. Normally I’m lenient—if a kid in the capital calls me “shorty,” I let it slide. But when a bunch of eyebrow-less bald geezers crowd me? Straight to jail. Creeps.
They kept whining, so I idly fired my revolver for fun until they shut up. Shooting practice is important, after all. Even in the senate hall.
“A magic gun… capable of rapid fire?!”
They were stunned. I remembered: in this world, magic guns are only at the level of matchlocks. And since magical tools are absurdly expensive, even the empire gave up on mass-producing them, unlike Nobunaga’s arquebuses.
I let off a full burst with an AK knockoff for fun. Some fainted. Some wet themselves. Pathetic. When I showed Arlandian soldiers, their eyes had sparkled with excitement. But I guess with the muzzle possibly pointing at them, fear is natural.
In the end, the senate geezers tearfully begged for their lives while passing the reparations law. By it, imperial nobles would cover what the government could not, and every last slave under the empire’s rule had to be freed if I so ordered.
The disgusting bald elders were shipped off to prison. Grown men groveling at the feet of a little girl not yet ten—disgusting. The knights, Alicia, and Takuto wordlessly dragged them away. Evil must perish.
"But freeing the slaves… while we agree, we don’t have enough manpower. Can the golems identify slaves or anything like that?”
After finishing with the Senate, a knight asked me this while I was watching Mr. Coote dig up the palace gardens.
“My golems aren’t that smart, you know. I mean, they’re made for combat, so there was no need to give them that kind of intelligence.
Anyway, I’ve already called in a large fleet of airships from the kingdom, escorted by armed airships, so the manpower issue will be solved soon enough.”
The kingdom currently has twenty large airships. They’re being sent here, escorted by armed airships. Up to a certain point, the air force covers them with bombers and fighters, but since some cheeky lords along the way are still refusing to surrender, the air force peels off to bomb them, leaving one armed airship to escort. Well, no imperial airship could ever catch up with our large airships anyway, so it’s not a problem. And we’ve also got the magic battleship stationed in the capital.
That battleship really was a great find. I rewarded the clone who discovered it with one of Takuto’s puddings. He was thrilled. I’d be thrilled too if I got pudding.
Can’t wait to bring it home and analyze it. Some of its technology definitely surpasses mine.
“I see. Then, one more thing… about that magic battleship…”
“We’ll take it back, rope in the magicians from the Technical Development Bureau, and fully analyze and learn from it.”
“The entire continent will go wild over this.”
“Yeah, but once analysis is done, we’ll dismantle it.”
“What! That’s a discovery of the century!”
“Eh, doesn’t match our air force standards. Range is short, too. I’d rather dismantle it and re-armor it with King Draconia-class plating.”
We got our hands on a ton of Dark Matter Alloy. If we swap out the Alice-Steel armor on the King Draconia-class magic battleships with this stuff, overall weight drops by 20%, and magical defense gets even stronger.
Dark Matter Alloy has hardness on par with Alice-Steel, but it’s way more resistant to magic. A magic battleship has thinner armor than a battlecruiser, so this makes its defenses much better.
Of course, the thin armor is because of the insane weight and mana consumption, plus the fact that magic battleships rely more on multi-layered barriers from their reactors than on armor.
So really, extra armor isn’t even needed. And even if thinner than a battlecruiser, it’s still way thicker than anything in this world could pierce.
And another big deal is that Dark Matter Alloy is way lighter. Honestly, Alice-Steel’s biggest flaw is just being ridiculously heavy. It’s tough, sure, but weight is a killer. From now on, it’s the age of Dark Matter Alloy. I’ll have to mass-produce it once I get home. All the battleship armor’s getting replaced. Same with the armed airships.
Oh, and can’t forget the Philosopher’s Stone. The ultimate magical catalyst from legends—it massively boosts spell effectiveness just by existing. That’s another thing I plan to mass-produce, until it’s just standard issue for every magician in Arland. Can’t wait to get back. The magicians at the Bureau must already be waiting like starving dogs. They even sent complaints this morning—they said they can’t focus on work at all because they’re too excited about what I’ll bring back.
“So anyway, dismantling is already decided.”
“… I see…”
The knights aren’t too sharp when it comes to magic stuff, but at least they understood I wasn’t wasting it. One of them also asked me to sell Alice-Steel dumbbells. Workout toys will have to wait till I’m back.
Still, just sitting around waiting for reinforcements is boring. Freeing all the slaves in the capital is tricky. I’ve already had reports that slave merchants are plotting to escape or hide their slaves.
Of course, escaping the city is impossible—the Golem Legion is waiting at every exit. A few merchants tried to brute force their way through with guards, but they got turned into pincushions.
But hiding them? That’s a problem. So I’ll introduce some reliable allies.
“Allies… you mean cats, right?”
“Meowers Squad.”
I picked up a stray cat from in front of the palace and showed it to Alicia.
“Naa~go, goro goro (Hey, go summon all the cats in the capital).”
“Fugya! (How can you speak our tongue!?)”
“Goro goro (Who cares about that?).”
I tried to negotiate. But a proud stray, who lives free and answers to no one, isn’t easy to persuade. So I resorted to my trump card.
“Meowa~! (Obey my will!)”
“Fumeow! (Th-that’s…!)”
I boldly held out a slice of fish before the stray. The moment it saw it, the cat sat and bowed its head.
“Meowa, naa~go, goro goro (You are my true master, meow).”
“Naa~go (Then do as I say—gather every cat in the capital).”
“Goro goro (At once, master!).”
The stray grabbed the fish and dashed off.
“Princess, that slice of fish… where did you get it?”
“Oh, I seized it earlier when I was checking the kitchen for suspicious snacks.”
“… Suspicious… snacks?”
“Suspiciously delicious snacks.”
Best not to question further. For the record, the snack really was delicious. Turns out it was made by a beastman slave. I thought he was being treated unusually well, but no—he was just the emperor’s favorite, forced to cook.
Obviously no wages. So I scouted him for Arland, offering prime real estate and a shop. He burst into tears and swore loyalty. That’s where I found the fish slice—just requisitioned it. The cook cried, but hey, meals for the emperor are usually just prison slop anyway. He should be happy his food finally got eaten fresh. I’d love to try it myself, but no one will let me, so I don’t know what it’s like.
Three hours later, the cats had gathered before me.
“Fumeow~! (Who wants fish!?)”
““““Meowaaaaa!! (We dooooo!!)”“”“”
“Fumeowa~go (Then obey me!).”
“““““Goro goro (You’re our boss, meow)”“”“”
And so I gained command of nearly ten thousand cats.
The Arland knights watching this thought to themselves:
“Isn’t the princess… talking to cats?”
One young knight spoke up, and one of Draconia’s guards from the royal capital chuckled.
“When did you ever think the princess couldn’t talk to cats?”
“Eh—well, normally people can’t…”
The young knight, who usually served at the border, was bewildered. He admired Alicetia but didn’t know her details.
“With the princess, nothing is impossible.”
The guard knew Alicetia well. By now, seeing her converse with cats didn’t surprise him at all. Call it numbness.
“I see… the princess really is amazing.”
“Indeed. Why, even the cats of the royal capital are under her command.”
The knights watched Alicetia’s feline vassals bow before her—all while hefting 80-kg dumbbells in one hand, unable to resist their urge to train. They thought it was peaceful.
But bad news always comes in peaceful moments.
A sound rang from Alicetia’s pocket.
“Hello?”
(The Holy Empire’s army is heading for the capital.)
It was one of Alicetia’s clones, leading the watchful Woofers Squad.
“That’s bad! Everyone, move out!”
Alicetia was shaken, and the knights tossed aside their dumbbells, faces hardening back into those of warriors.
The Granzur Empire’s state religion was the Holy Faith. If the imperial army entered the capital, the people—currently cowed into silence—would surely rise in rebellion. Instead of freeing slaves, Alicetia’s small force would be dragged into street fighting, at a huge disadvantage.
Luckily, the city was sealed off, keeping the priests quiet for now. But they had to be dealt with before the populace caught wind.
The smoke of a new battle was rising.
What do you think about this chapter?
