Return To The Marin Archipelago

‘Good.’

For the first time in a long while, Ian sailed at sea. The faint, rolling motion and the briny smell that pricked his nose felt unpleasant yet nostalgic. Standing on the flight deck and taking in the view, he watched ships moving in formation on all sides.

No fewer than thirty-five vessels accompanied them. The 10th Fleet made an impressive show as it advanced.

‘It had been a while since I saw the battleship Mitos.’

There were also eight cruisers and fourteen destroyers—evidence of how many ships the Polia Kingdom had built. The naval expansion had begun under the previous king; not only had they made up for past losses, they had surpassed them.

‘And yet, even after building so many, we were still short compared with the empires.’

Their total tonnage lagged far behind, mainly because of battleships. Each battleship alone exceeded twenty thousand tons.

Polia capped its battleships at twelve. In exchange, they built far more aircraft carriers, cruisers, and destroyers—and planned to keep increasing their numbers.

‘For now it looked odd, but in the end they would see I was right.’

Within a decade or so, the era would shift to aircraft carriers. Perhaps he had moved too early, but only by moving now could he open a gap.

While he gazed at the sea, Princess Adrina spoke beside him.

“It really has been a while since I traveled by sea.”

“Did you come here by airship?”

“Yes. I flew over the ocean.”

“…Avoid airships if you can. They are dangerous.”

“Accidents on airships aren’t that common. People say the odds of a ship sinking are higher.”

“But you have a much better chance of surviving at sea. A failure in the sky kills everyone.”

“That is true.”

Nodding, Princess Adrina gave Ian a curious look.

“Are you worried about me?”

“Now that we share a connection, of course I am.”

“You know this is the first time—other than what I suggested?”

“What is the first time?”

“You caring. I had the impression Your Majesty didn’t see me as a woman.”

“Ahem, what are you saying? If Princess Adrina is not a woman, what is she?”

“So you do like women?”

“What kind of talk is that? ‘Like women, too’?”

Perplexed, Ian stared at her. She glanced around, noted that people had stepped back, and lowered her voice.

“There are many rumors. And you always look straight into my eyes.”

“Do not believe rumors. I do not like men, nor do I dislike women. And when speaking, what else should I look at if not your eyes?”

“Most men look anywhere but my face.”

“There are people so rude?”

“Most men are like that. You are the exception—that’s why the rumors feel more ‘credible’ to some.”

“I told you not to believe such nonsense.”

“Then you really like women? Why were there no stories before? When I said we might be… involved, people went wild.”

“Ahem, that is…”

Ian felt awkward. Princess Adrina, more intrigued, stared at him until he surrendered.

“I simply want to meet a woman naturally, date her, and marry—honestly, I loathe political marriages.”

“Excuse me?”

“Is that so strange?”

“Not strange—just unexpected. To hear a king say that! Your Majesty is rather romantic, isn’t he?”

“It is not romance. I only believe marriage should be with someone you love.”

“That is exactly what people call romantic. You sound like a storybook hero.”

“Ahem, it is not like that.”

Embarrassed, Ian coughed and looked away. Her gaze felt heavy. To Princess Adrina, he seemed a most unusual king—four years on the throne without taking a consort because he disliked a political match?

‘Ah… perhaps…’

A thought struck her: maybe it was because of her brother. She knew Empress Michelle of Magnia had once been Ian’s fiancée, before he became king. Perhaps that past had shaped his views. Like many, she suspected he had never gotten over his former betrothed—an assumption quite off the mark.

Ian, unaware of her misconception, changed the subject.

“How does it look? Not Magnia-grand, but still handsome, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is.”

Gesturing at the ships, Ian spoke with quiet pride. She nodded. As a princess, she had attended many events, including grand fleet reviews—thousands of ships in sweeping ranks. Compared to those, today’s force was not overwhelming. Yet that this many ships guarded a king on personal travel spoke volumes.

Polia was the greatest of the kingdoms, short of the empires themselves. If this was only the 10th Fleet, there were nine more like it. No wonder Polia could remain neutral. In an age of continent-wide war, what other nation would let its king sail with such an escort?

They chatted a while longer before the chill wind and air had attendants urging them inside. The 10th Fleet cut through the sea; after roughly ten days, they reached the Marin Archipelago. Time had already slipped into February.

They finally arrived.

To reach Pero Island, the archipelago’s hub, they still had to sail a bit more. Islanders came out to gawk at the sudden appearance of the fleet.

Many felt awe at the scale. Villagers gathered along shores to watch; even fishing boats paused their work to look.

Sailing close to the islands was partly deliberate—an exhibition of power. Ian remembered the past rebellion here; the show of force was meant to deter any thought of another.

Since his accession, unrest had ceased. He had lowered the burdensome taxes and let people breathe again. Still, the place bore the stigma of revolt.

The busiest person amid all this was Princess Adrina. She would soon separate and move on her own, so preparations were urgent. Ian planned to approach Pero Island, the archipelago’s center, but not land.

He himself had led the attack there in the past; bereaved families might seek “revenge” through assassination. However tightly guarded, there were always gaps, and even if he did not fear bullets, he wanted to avoid inviting suspicion. He would limit himself to an onboard inspection.

Princess Adrina likewise would not disembark there. Before they reached Pero Island, under cover of night, she quietly transferred to another vessel and sped off aboard a destroyer.

Admiral Derian of the 10th Fleet had coordinated the plan, with Secretary Mardin in on it as well; no one else noticed.

‘Did she get away cleanly?’

Through binoculars, Ian studied the coastline of Pero Island and thought of the princess headed to the supposed ancient site. For a woman—a princess—to go treasure-seeking took no small courage.

She had already departed for the target island. Using a detailed chart of the archipelago, they had pre-selected likely candidates and set course for the most promising one.

‘There may be a clash.’

Others seeking the relic might be there. Even a Magnian princess could find herself in danger. Ian reassured himself by recalling the people he had assigned to her.

‘Handpicked, every one.’

They were all superbly built and combat-tested. He had sent them to a separate training facility for years of extreme conditioning, turning them into a de facto special-operations force before such a unit officially existed.

‘And I enhanced their bodies with Mental Manipulation.’

Over years he had observed that subjects strengthened by his power advanced physically at an unnatural rate: mind leading body. Their trained frames had become something ordinary foes could not match.

‘Human weapons, really—not bulletproof, of course, but quick enough to see a muzzle swing toward them and evade.’

Buoyed by those results, he was now using the same methods to cultivate covert agents.

‘With such operatives abroad, we might steal technologies we have not yet mastered.’

With spies specialized in clandestine work, Polia might obtain imperial technology without sinking fortunes into research. Call it underhanded—as a ruler, he saw it as inevitable.

‘If others do it and we abstain, we are fools.’

The empires surely ran their own services to pilfer secrets. Though still in the shadows, they would be recognized later. Musing on this, Ian looked at the cityscape in the distance and murmured with regret:

“It is a pity I cannot go ashore.”

“There is no reason to assume the risk.”

Mardin said as Ian nodded.

“Many here must hate me.”

“Some will; others will praise you.”

“Surely the bitter outnumber the grateful. I killed their kin.”

“Please do not say that. You did what you had to do. In time, hearts may ease.”

“I hope so.”

He had only led ships and provided supporting fire, but some had died because of it. The bereaved needed a target; his name had been prominent then, so he would be the focus.

The hatred might even pass down generations. He could not claim it unfair. Nor did he hate them for it. What was done was done; since it could not be undone, he would simply do his utmost to enact policies that let them live well.

“More importantly—what value do you think the relic truly holds?”

Because he was in on the secret plan, Mardin could not help asking. Ian was just as curious. If even Emperor Jedic wanted it, it had to be of great worth.

“I do not know. Only that it is something even Emperor Jedic covets. Perhaps a magical artifact with great power.”

“If it is a magical artifact, how great must it be for him to pursue it in secret?”

“Great enough, perhaps, to have lifted him to the throne.”

“In that case, Your Majesty must obtain it.”

“That is my hope.”

“But will you truly give Princess Adrina the rest?”

“Do you think I should break my word?”

“No—but we did prepare so much.”

“And without her information, we would not have moved at all.”

“I still feel a little reluctant.”

“Too much greed invites ruin. I promised. We will divide the finds.”

“…Understood. If that is Your Majesty’s will.”

Ian understood Mardin’s disappointment; the greater the value, the greater the temptation.

As king, he would continue inspecting safe landing points around the archipelago. Officially, Princess Adrina was “confined to her cabin by seasickness” after the long voyage. From inside the ship, no one could check.

If she stayed out of sight too long, suspicion would grow. All they could do was hope she finished quickly.