The Matter of How Only a Political Rival Duke, Not My Own Family, Recognized My Worth After I Was Disowned ~When I Turned a Remote Frontier Territory Into the World’s Greatest City, the Noble Lady Assigned to Supervise Me Became the Best Fiancée~ - Episode 22: Negotiation for Coexistence With the Lords of the Wasteland

Episode 22: Negotiation for Coexistence With the Lords of the Wasteland

The footprints were as large as wagons.

Even the seasoned mercenaries under Gilbert — and the sturdy dwarves themselves — froze stiff at the sight of those massive marks.

“…Sub-Dragons. And not ordinary ones, either,” 

The dwarf Gran muttered in a low growl.

“If there are multiple beasts of this size…? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

As unease and panic rippled through the ranks, I calmly activated my skill [Territory Design] to analyze this unknown threat.

(Name: Earth Drake [provisional designation]. Ecology: Extremely territorial. Diet: Carnivorous, but shows a preference for consuming specific minerals as a nutrient source. Special traits: Rock-like outer skin; possible ability to burrow underground…)

Information is power.

Panic is born from ignorance.

I turned to face everyone and spoke in a firm voice.

“Calm down. The enemy is likely a type of Sub-Dragon known as the Earth Drake. We have two problems: first, there are several of them. Second, they’ve already recognized our camp as intruders trespassing on their territory.”

That night, we held an emergency council at the base camp.

“Count! We should retreat to the capital and request reinforcements from the knight order!”

Gilbert, ever the cautious merchant, was quick to advocate for the safest route.

“Don’t be ridiculous! I’ll turn those lizards into axe polish!”

Gran roared. He was full of dwarven fire and pride.

As opinions clashed, every gaze turned toward me.

“…We won’t fight,” 

I said quietly.

“Nor will we flee. We’ll negotiate.”

““”Negotiate!?”””

Everyone shouted at once. Their voices overlapped in disbelief.

“There’s no way you can talk with monsters!”

“No, they won’t understand words. But understanding doesn’t have to rely on speech.”

I began explaining the plan I had sketched out in my mind.

“Their goal is to drive us out of their territory. Then we simply need to prove — through action — that we’re not just harmless, but beneficial to them.”

My unorthodox plan went as follows:

First: Regularly transport their favorite mineral, moonstone, to a location far from our camp and make them recognize it as a feeding ground.

Second: Mark the perimeter of our camp with stakes coated in the sap of plants that they detest — a clear and unmistakable boundary they’ll instinctively avoid.

And third—

“Master Gran. Run the coal furnaces at full capacity. Forge massive steel walls — several of them — strong enough that no fang or claw can ever pierce them.”

We wouldn’t grovel.

We’d demonstrate our strength and technology — a silent warning that if you pick a fight, it won’t end well for you.

Coexistence and deterrence.

Only with both could true, equal “negotiation” exist.

At first, my companions hesitated at the absurdity of the idea. But once they grasped its logic, they acted without hesitation.

A truly remarkable team.

◇

That night. 

Once preparations were complete, we watched the eastern forest from the newly built watchtower. We held our breath.

Then, with a deep rumble that shook the ground, they appeared.

Enormous lizards. They were easily ten meters long. Their bodies were covered in stone-like scales — Earth Drakes.

There were five of them.

Their overwhelming presence made everyone fall silent.

The drakes stopped right before the boundary stakes. They were sniffing at the air and watching warily.

Then, one of them spotted the pile of moonstones at the feeding site and let out a pleased growl.

The rest followed. They eagerly devoured the minerals.

Finally, the largest among them approached the massive steel wall that Gran had built. It was clearly the leader.

It slammed a huge foreleg against the wall in irritation — *clang!* — a thunderous metallic sound rang out. But the wall didn’t so much as quiver.

Frustrated, the drake snapped its mighty jaws at it next — and again, nothing.

If anything, its prized fangs had chipped slightly.

The leader growled in frustration. It glared at the steel barrier — then turned its gaze toward our camp.

After a long, tense moment—

Grrrrrrr…!

It let out a single rumbling roar. Not of attack, but warning. Then, surprisingly, it turned around and led its followers back into the forest.

The storm had passed.

“…Phew. Looks like the first stage of negotiation was a success,” 

I exhaled in relief.

Beside me, Gran snorted in disbelief.

“Milord… are you sure you’re human?”

And thus, an odd yet pragmatic relationship of coexistence with the true “masters” of this land had just begun.