Within the Royal Palace in Barishik, the Frankish Royal Capital.
King Louis III sat at his desk, deeply agitated. The newly appointed Court Countess, Sivier, massaged her lover's temples with both hands.
Not a single piece of good news had reached his court since the war with the Beastmen began.
What infuriated him most was Grantham on the Central Front. This young Imperial Marshal was gradually slipping from his grasp, and Louis, now approaching sixty, was growing weary of managing the kingdom's affairs.
If not for his sharp and enterprising nature in his youth—pitting the minor southern nobles and the fledgling Kingdom Church against the other great nobles to achieve considerable political success—the current situation would be even worse.
The recent news of the deaths of two Counts on the Western Front only fueled Louis's anger.
It wasn't the fall of Sunset Fortress that truly vexed him.
Sunset Fortress was bound to fall sooner or later. The kingdom had already made ample preparations at the Siriel Defense Line, and construction had even begun on a new line of defense in the mountains behind it.
He was agitated by the message brought by his trusted aide: it seemed there were other forces at play behind Count Offman's breakout.
No proof was needed for something like this. Grantham had previously suggested reallocating the forces from Sunset Fortress and Vanguard Fortress to the Siriel Defense Line to protect the Central Front's rear.
The young Marshal's accomplishments were already enough to make Louis wary. He had allied with the great nobles to seize control of the army on the Central Front, and now the only forces Louis could command there were his own Standing Army.
Now, Grantham was even extending his reach to the other two fronts. If he used the Beastmen's southern invasion to take control of the kingdom's military, he would become a grave threat to the Frankish Royal Family.
Perhaps Louis III could still command respect with his authority, but he was no longer young and possessed no great personal power. He might be able to keep the situation in check, but what about his heirs?
"Your Majesty, the Marquis on the Western Front is pressing for military funds again. What are your orders?" asked the Chancellor, Earl Daniel, from the side.
"Send it. Send the full amount, and approve an additional sum. Tell Oscillate that by the end of this year, I want to see results!" Louis said.
He knew Oscillate was likely cooperating with Grantham in some capacity, but there was nothing to be done. He wasn't a king skilled in both civil and military arts, and the royal family had never produced a capable general.
Louis III could only use one great noble to check another.
The war had progressed to a point where it was time to enter the second phase: a stalemate had begun to set in on both sides.
Thirty years ago, when the Beastmen broke through the defense lines and charged to the capital, it was only after the war had reached its final stages.
This was the moment for Louis III to bolster the other two fronts, to prevent this war from becoming the Grantham show.
"But, the Inner Court's finances..." Earl Daniel hesitated.
"Didn't Grantham report spectacular victories? Cut some of the funding for the Central Front and reallocate it to the other two," Louis III said.
The Central Front was Grantham's and the great nobles' stage now anyway. There was no need for him to go out of his way to send them gifts.
Those great nobles all had deep pockets. Let them wear themselves out against the Beastman Empire on the Central Front for a while.
Louis III sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
'If it weren't necessary,' he thought, 'I really wouldn't want to be creating conflict at such a critical juncture.'
'Now that I've given up military authority on the Central Front, it won't be easy to get it back in the future.'
'Once news spreads that the King is cutting spending on the Central Front, it will be a considerable blow to my public image.'
'Unfortunately, while the Beastmen are a threat to the Royal Family, these great nobles are hardly any better.'
'For the Royal Family, the best option is to let them wear each other down first.'
'The war has gone on for so long, and the Frank Kingdom's treasury is running dry. It's about time these great nobles coughed up some blood.'
...
In the southern part of the city, at the estate of Marquis George, several powerful Northern Nobles who held positions at court had gathered to meet with him.
"Marquis, the Central Front is under pressure, and the Marshal is pressing us again," Earl Harold said with a frown.
Marquis George sat in his chair, sipping his tea with a calm, unhurried air.
This was Elf Tea from the southern high elves, a favorite among nobles throughout the human lands.
"My Lord Marquis, we must make a decision quickly," Earl Harold urged.
Marquis George set down his tea.
"If the Marshal requires it, then inform the gentlemen in the Royal Capital. If everyone chips in, we'll have what we need," said Marquis George.
Earl Harold seemed to be talking about Marshal Grantham, but the core of the issue was the Inner Court's recent resolution to cut spending for the Central Front.
The Central Front had become a massive money pit. There were 600,000 regular soldiers on that front alone, not counting the Peasants and other auxiliary troops.
In the past, the military expenses for the Central Front had always been covered by the national treasury and the King's private coffers. Back then, the Frankish Royal Family held the most sway on the Central Front.
Things were different now. Thanks to the maneuvering of Marshal Grantham and a host of great nobles, the military-merit nobles on the Central Front were no longer as obedient as they once were.
After more than a decade of careful cultivation, nearly half of the Officers on the Central Front had connections to these great nobles.
It was as if the King had been raising an army for them. Now that the King could no longer afford it and wanted to pull out, the lion's share of the Central Front's future military expenses would fall on their shoulders.
"But, my Lord Marquis..." Earl Harold tried to press his point again.
Marquis George cut him off directly.
"Enough, gentlemen. We have toiled for so long and are finally seeing a return. How can we simply push this opportunity away?" Marquis George said with a sigh.
As the representative of the Northern Nobles in the royal court, he was all too familiar with the greed and shortsightedness of his peers.
'On the surface, it seems the King is cutting spending on the Central Front, but isn't this, in fact, a form of concession and a transfer of power?'
'Though they have been deeply entrenched in the Central Front's army for years, the King still held a share of the most core authority.'
'Now that the Beastmen have finally invaded from the south, the King can no longer bear the burden and is preparing to cede power, yet these fools want to retreat at the critical moment.'
"But..."
"No more 'buts.' The kingdom needs us. Those with money will give money, and those with strength will give strength. Tell them that if they don't want all their past efforts to go down the drain, they shouldn't be stingy with the Gold Coins in their hands."
"Oh, and tell them to pull back their claws from the Eastern and Western Fronts. From now on, we will focus all our energy on consolidating our gains on the Central Front," Marquis George said decisively.
Since they had already taken the biggest piece of the pie, they might as well leave the scraps for the King and the southern nobles.
With a great enemy at the gates, they couldn't afford to be too excessive. Besides, the Central Front alone was more than enough for them to digest. Too large an appetite could lead to indigestion.
"This... very well," Earl Harold said, dejected.
It wasn't that he didn't understand Marquis George's thinking.
Unfortunately, he had come this time at the behest of a certain faction. The Northern Nobles were not a monolithic, united bloc.
Many of the Northern Nobles were now so poor they could barely feed themselves. Where would they find the surplus resources to support the massive army on the Central Front?
Marquis George's strategy might be good for the collective in the long run, but it offered no benefits to those impoverished Northern Nobles.
He estimated that the spoils from the Central Front would be completely devoured by the coastal nobles and the truly powerful great noble families.
Although he was dissatisfied with the Marquis's approach, there was nothing Earl Harold could do. He represented the minority, after all.
The Northern Kingdom bordered the Beastman Empire, and whenever the Beastmen invaded south, they were the first to suffer. Those without strength were swept away in a single wave, so now, only the great and powerful houses remained.