Chapter 523

The Crown Prince granted them an hour when they asked to postpone the meeting by an hour and a half. Since they were all mages, it took very little time to warp, and with fifty minutes still remaining, they were able to gather the entire leadership again in the Catacombs’ main assembly hall.

Marian Baum and Chairman of the Judiciary Committee Susanne Nussbaum had spent thirty minutes talking. Now, they had to summarize what they had discussed and convey only the key points in even less time. He also had to make an effort not to use analogies, as Chairman Nussbaum had pointed out. Even without that warning, Marian Baum had come to trust Chairman Nussbaum’s ability to interpret what he said after their earlier conversation. Unconsciously believing that Nussbaum would neither misinterpret his words nor become overly influenced by them, Marian had used the method of persuasion he was most skilled at: analogies. But he did not yet have the same confidence in the critical thinking abilities of the others. He did not want to speak carelessly before an unspecified number of people who might not be able to properly interpret what he was saying. After all, analogies were precisely the kind of simple, intuitive language they had been wary of.

Even without using the analogies he normally relied on when persuading others most effectively, Marian Baum summarized his conversation with Nussbaum as quickly and accurately as he could. He had some doubts as to whether he had actually managed to persuade them properly in the end, but he did his best to make his case.

When he checked the time, twenty minutes had passed. Marian Baum accepted the water offered by the chairman’s secretary, drank it, and thanked him. Then a voice came from the end of the table.

“Very well.”

Co-Chairman Janina Schweitzer clasped her hands together and continued, her eyes sharp.

“So, Mr. Baum, did you gather us here because you wanted to defend Bavaria?”

Marian Baum pressed his lips together and gripped the table. It felt as though his soul were draining out of him. Though her expression remained impassive, Susanne Nussbaum closed her eyes as well.

A problem right from the start. They had misunderstood the premise itself. There was no way a discussion that began from entirely different starting points could reach a sound conclusion.

For someone who focused on the root of a matter rather than its surface, it was only natural that no discussion centered on the surface would get through to them. This did overlap with the difference in views between the moderates and radicals, but it was not quite the same. Marian Baum, a moderate, and Susanne Nussbaum, a radical, were capable of communicating with each other. Had Chairman Nussbaum fully agreed with what Marian Baum had said? Certainly not. Marian simply did not know, because Nussbaum had given nothing away with her characteristic impassive expression and silence. Countless counterarguments must have been arising in an orderly fashion in her mind. Yet after their earlier discussion, Nussbaum had not made the mistake of asking, ‘Are you Bavaria’s advocate?’

What Chairman Janina Schweitzer was saying now was based less on the fundamental difference between moderates and radicals than on a binary camp-based way of thinking. It was the same framing she had used when she created the ‘bystander’ framework around Bavaria.

It was only natural, then, that some people would misinterpret the intentions behind Marian Baum’s and Susanne Nussbaum’s words. They were members of the Catacombs, and as such, they were expected to regard the established powers as their enemies. Because they were believed to be in a situation where a clear-cut, black-and-white logic with a righteous cause could be applied, they were not supposed to make statements that would, regardless of their intentions, ultimately benefit the Kingdom. Nor were they supposed to make statements that would, even unintentionally, lessen the Catacombs’ hostility toward Bavaria. That hostility was tied to the morale of the Catacombs as well, so any statement that prompted them to reconsider even one of the grounds for their hostility would be seen as taking Bavaria’s side. The counterattack of ‘Is Baum defending Bavaria?’ worked precisely through this mechanism.

Marian Baum closed his eyes and pressed his brow.

In front of a camp, any call for critical thinking that transcended that camp was treated as an attack. To a politician like Janina Schweitzer, Bavaria had to exist as absolute evil. That was how a politician could rally and lead the masses. It was in the nature of a crowd to become excited and rush toward wherever its leader pointed, declaring, ‘That is the absolute evil we must eliminate.’ This was also one of the reasons Marian Baum opposed introducing a republic at this point.

In Marian Baum’s eyes, the masses always wanted a powerful leader who could unite them, put them in a four-horse chariot, and lead them to paradise. They also seemed willing to hand over their sovereignty to that leader as long as they could enjoy the sweetness he brought them. That was not a desire for a leader of a democracy. It was a desire for a new king!

There was no chance of a republic being introduced under the current circumstances, but if it somehow were, the masses would elect a militaristic and nationalist leader who promised to make Germany an even prouder great power. The result would be a nation-state racing toward a future even worse than that of Prussia as it existed now, where the law at least placed some limits on the autocratic rule of the Royal Family. This was not some extraordinary prediction unique to Marian Baum. It was simply the most pessimistic conclusion one could reach if one had enough understanding of the current political situation. But such a powerful and destructive nation-state had not actually come into being, nor was the introduction of a republic anywhere near at hand. That was the only reason he could not actively call for vigilance against it.

What Marian Baum had said up to this point was rooted in the ideas of a political philosopher who had greatly influenced him in his youth. He often cited Montesquieu, the political philosopher who laid the foundations for the separation of powers. Montesquieu had argued that for a democratic republic to function, its people had to possess civic virtue. He had applied to civil society the idea that the leaders of ancient Greece had identified education in virtue as the only means of keeping themselves in check. In a monarchy, the monarch ruled by law, and the law restrained the monarch. In a republic, the people had to be restrained by the political virtue they had cultivated themselves.

Thus, Marian Baum believed that if a republic were introduced, the role of the citizenry would be crucial in preventing the rise of the simple and intuitive language Chairman Susanne Nussbaum had warned against. A true democratic republic could function only once reflective citizens had grown strong enough to correct society from within. Any premature change before then would only accelerate the rise of a dictator-president, and it was impossible to predict how much blood such a dictator-president might spill. And what would lie at the foundation of that dictator-president’s power? All the thoughtlessness Marian had discussed with Susanne Nussbaum would grant a president elected through democratic procedures the same power as an absolute monarch.

That was why Marian Baum now stood at a crossroads—not merely over the argument taking place at this very moment, but over the fate of the Catacombs themselves. No, this moment had been a crossroads from the beginning, because the sovereignty and future of the Catacombs were tied to it. Would they build a leadership in which Chairman Janina Schweitzer’s political language could function, or one in which it could not? That depended on how Marian Baum handled this.

He had to be thorough at every moment. Marian Baum swallowed. The weight of so many responsibilities made his stomach churn.

Janina Schweitzer was accustomed to political language. More precisely, she was accustomed to dealing with crowds. She divided things into black and white and shouted her conclusions, never stepping outside the logic of opposing camps. Few people were willing to point out that the absolute evil she proclaimed was, in reality, little more than propaganda, far removed from the truth. To Janina Schweitzer, therefore, anyone who weakened Bavaria’s status as an absolute evil was an apologist for Bavaria. Any attempt to rise above one’s own camp and look down upon the situation more objectively was, in itself, treason.

Of course, it is unclear whether she herself truly sees it that way. In Marian Baum’s judgment, she genuinely cared about the safety of the Catacombs, genuinely was a radical, and genuinely was a politician. So Marian Baum could not tell whether Chairman Schweitzer wanted to reduce the issue to something simpler rather than think about it from every angle so that she could use all of this as propaganda, or whether she genuinely felt that she herself was being attacked. At first, Marian had thought it was the latter, but the more he considered it, the less certain he became. If it was the former, Marian Baum would have to confront Janina Schweitzer’s ‘simple and intuitive’ political language—in other words, her propaganda built around deliberately loaded framing. If it was the latter, he could instead try to find common ground with Janina Schweitzer while remaining wary of the hasty thinking that gave rise to ‘simple and intuitive’ language and factional logic.

Marian Baum began to speak slowly.

“What the Catacombs should regard as the opportunity of a lifetime is Prussia’s misrule, not Bavaria’s proposal. Bavaria’s proposal is itself a historic event and a valuable opportunity, but the true force behind this chance for a fundamental reversal is Prussia itself. Yet we continued this discussion while making the mistake of treating Bavaria’s proposal as the opportunity of a lifetime. I would like to know what exactly I have said here that could be considered taking Bavaria’s side.”

“I believe, Mr. Baum, that you are tracing the cause too far back.”

Chairman Janina Schweitzer leaned forward, eyes widening as she spoke.

“The fact that Prussia is in such a political position was something Bavaria told us, and the fact that we can use Easter to cripple Prussia’s influence was also something Bavaria told us. So according to the information they provided, we are essentially moving entirely according to Bavaria’s direction! And you still say we do not owe Bavaria a debt?”

The chairman continued, raising her voice.

“Furthermore, Mr. Baum, you have overlooked the fact that while the ‘Catacombs’ themselves may not be under constant attack from Prussia, ‘commoner mages’ are. Your argument is correct. In the strictest sense, the ‘Catacombs’ are not being attacked by Prussia. They are ignorant fools who do not even know where we are. But commoner mages are being attacked by Prussia. In this situation, if we follow Bavaria’s lead, attack Prussia, and succeed in freeing the commoner mages, was that not made possible precisely because we, as commoner mages, borrowed Bavaria’s power? Is that not, politically and in terms of our very souls, a matter of being ‘indebted’ to them? You are right that because Prussia is willing to stake everything on its hegemony, our rising up against it and threatening Prussia directly would deal a blow to it. But don’t you think that precisely because the damage Prussia suffers will be so immense, we will owe Bavaria an even greater debt?”

Here, the debt they were talking about meant the debt the Catacombs would incur to the Royal Family in realpolitik terms. The ‘duty to settle the outstanding rights’ was a debt in an ethical sense—a debt the Royal Family owed to them. What Marian Baum wanted to discuss now, therefore, was the debt the Catacombs would incur to Bavaria in that same political sense.

“First of all, it was the Crown Prince’s ability to recognize the state of affairs and make proper use of it. I will not deny Bavaria’s contribution. Therefore, I will also say that I can understand, in all fairness, the view that we would be indebted to Bavaria.”

“Thank you.”

Chairman Janina Schweitzer said it with a slight lift of her eyebrows. She was not exactly being sarcastic, but neither was there any particular warmth in her gratitude. Marian Baum lowered his head, then raised it again.

“First, we can extend Montesquieu’s theory of the separation of powers to international relations. A balance among different powers ensures overall stability and freedom. Making use of Bavaria’s information strengthens our ability to check Prussia and contributes to maintaining that overall balance. This does not undermine our autonomy. Rather, it is a strategy for safeguarding our freedom and independence within a larger framework. Is pursuing such a strategy not itself an exercise of our independent judgment? If not, then why? Second, let me put your perspective and mine together. Bavaria would not be so ‘ethical’ as to provide us with information for the sake of settling the outstanding rights they owe us, nor would they have provided it for that reason. If we alone interpret their generosity as an obligation, that would be rather unbecoming. And if we use the information they have provided to ultimately seek the liberation of the Catacombs, then we would be using resources obtained in a manner that is neither dignified nor independent. In other words, we would be achieving our liberation in an impure manner—by becoming ‘indebted to them.’”

Marian Baum continued, looking at Janina Schweitzer.

“I know that Chairman Janina Schweitzer and the other members of the leadership who share her views would see it this way. That is why you said earlier that we should watch the Crown Prince’s attitude carefully.”

“That’s right.”

“I have absolutely no disagreement with the view that we should closely observe the Crown Prince’s attitude during the meeting. I want to make it clear that this is precisely the attitude we must take. Now, returning to the main point, let us look at our present question of sovereignty, as you wish, on the basis of economic interests rather than ethics or moral duty.”

“Please do. I’d like to hear it.”

Chairman Schweitzer rested her chin on her clasped hands and stared sharply at Marian Baum. It was easy to mistake the look for hostility, but Marian Baum was momentarily caught off guard. Chairman Schweitzer had explicitly said that she was willing to hear him out. Until just a moment ago, he had not known whether Schweitzer was deliberately using such aggressive political language, or whether she genuinely wanted to make Marian Baum’s position clear out of concern for the Catacombs’ well-being. But now, the truth seemed to be coming into view.

Marian Baum cleared his throat and spoke.

“In considering the matter of the <Operation to Eliminate Pleroma and the Benefits It Could Bring>, I view the relationship between Bavaria and the Catacombs from a perspective similar to negotiations for an alliance between two powers. Consider the Hanseatic League. If Lübeck, Köln, and Bremen were seeking to form an alliance for their mutual benefit, no one would speak of one side being indebted to the other when the relationship is one in which each side uses the other’s strength to pursue their ultimate mutual benefit.”

Voices of concern began to rise from around the room.

“We are not in an equal relationship, Mr. Baum.”

“That is incorrect. The cities that made up the Hanseatic League, which you used as an example, were equals. Our situation is closer to the relationship between Britain and the Kingdoms of Portugal and Spain.”

Just as he expected.

Marian Baum had anticipated this and waited for the others to finish. Schweitzer, arms folded and eyes closed, took a deep breath before making a small gesture with her hand and speaking seriously.

“We are not in an equal relationship. We are in a relationship between those who oppress and those who are oppressed. As was just said, we are in Portugal’s position, joining hands with Britain to avoid being swallowed up by Spain. Portugal may have survived the upheavals of international affairs, but did it not ultimately become a country dependent on Britain?”

“Chairman, I’m afraid of that as well.”

Marian Baum nodded and readily admitted it. Even if he had tried to guess the intentions of the Crown Prince of Bavaria on his own, the meeting had not actually begun yet, and the balance of power could change if the King intervened in place of the Crown Prince. So yes, he was genuinely afraid that their sovereignty might come under threat later.

“We are not equals under Imperial law, nor do we possess equal power in practice. Bavaria is a formidable power. But the circumstances are different when it comes to discussing that now.”

“How are they different?”

Chairman Schweitzer interlaced her fingers again, furrowing her brow as she asked.

“You are considering not the <Great Pleroma Elimination Operation and the Benefits It Could Bring>, but rather the <Opening for the Catacombs’ Liberation That Can Be Gained Through the Great Pleroma Elimination Operation>. If you look at the situation only from that perspective, then of course we are Portugal, and we have no choice but to see ourselves as indebted to Bavaria. The former is neutral, but the latter is not particularly neutral. You know the principles of trade. Adam Smith put forward the theory of absolute advantage to explain why trade could produce gains. If two parties exchange the goods that each can produce at the lowest cost—in other words, the goods in which each has an advantage—both sides can benefit. David Ricardo later proposed the theory of comparative advantage. I’ll leave that aside, since there is no need to bring comparative advantage into this discussion. We have different strengths and resources. The Kingdom of Bavaria, by its very nature, is bound to be a hub of information, and the Royal Family employs intellectuals to analyze the information it gathers and draw useful conclusions from it. Analyzing information for the security of the kingdom is their role and their duty. So, returning to my first point, I hold the Crown Prince’s strategy in high regard, but I have never thought that we are ‘becoming subordinate’ to it. In the end, even setting aside the matter of settling the outstanding debt whose true intentions we cannot yet know, all of these activities are also being carried out for the benefit of the Kingdom of Bavaria.”

However, when it came to settling the outstanding debt, he believed that the time to address that matter was now. But that debt and this debt were two different things, and there was no reason to bring the former into this discussion. Marian Baum continued.

“Second, despite being in a position to obtain vast amounts of information, the kingdom does not possess technology comparable to or surpassing that of Pleroma. That is why they approached the Catacombs with an offer of cooperation in order to obtain our technological assistance. We hold an absolute advantage in technology, insofar as we can provide highly advanced spatial magic technology for this operation. And you say we are indebted to them? We do not call one side indebted when both sides are gaining something from a mutually beneficial arrangement. I trust you understand that information is a resource as well. We obtain information that can be used to strike at Prussia, while they obtain our services. What matters here is not the technology itself, but the fact that we are providing a service, and I doubt Chairman Janina Schweitzer would compromise on that point either. If we have the autonomy to decide how much mutual benefit we are willing to pursue in this way, do we still have no sovereignty in the negotiations we are conducting now? Do you truly believe that we are in a position where we can do nothing but be led around by Bavaria?”

“……..”

“Going back to the matter of the <Realignment of the Federal Hierarchy That Can Be Achieved Through the Great Pleroma Elimination Operation>, what about that? From Bavaria’s perspective, this is one of the benefits they stand to gain from this operation. Without our technology, Bavaria will not be able to eliminate more Pleroma forces, and in that case, they would end up actively turning both Prussia and Pleroma into enemies. An elimination operation whose outcome is uncertain would be worse than not carrying it out at all. In other words, without the strength of the Catacombs, Bavaria would be unable to keep either Pleroma or Prussia in check and would have to let this opportunity slip away. Surely you can see that much. From this perspective, Bavaria needs us. If we call it a debt when we accept Bavaria’s offer of cooperation and use the information they bring us to return to the surface, then Bavaria likewise owes us a debt for using our technology to keep Prussia’s power in check. You must understand that the question of whether Bavaria might later try to encroach upon our sovereignty little by little in pursuit of our technology is a separate matter. Therefore, there should be no disagreement over what I am saying right now. If you refuse to recognize the benefits Bavaria gains from us as a debt while considering only the benefits we gain from Bavaria a debt, then, Chairman, you are denying the Catacombs’ standing and sovereignty by that very logic.”

Marian Baum realized that he was speaking faster and faster. He knew his increasingly agitated manner would hardly make his words sound more convincing, but he could not stop the words from pouring out.

“Why won’t you simply acknowledge that there are things they lack and strengths that only we possess? That is why we are equals in this negotiation. They have the advantage in information. We have the advantage in technology. Is information alone what will bring an end to discrimination against commoner mages? Our ability to act is also what will bring an end to that discrimination. Even with information, without the technology to act on it, it is nothing more than an empty dream! We have the power to turn Bavaria’s meticulously devised strategy into nothing more than a fantasy. Is that enough? Does describing a group that may become our ally in this way make it clear? Or do you still not understand why I said that the Catacombs had humiliated our own dignity by interpreting an ‘event’ as an ‘opportunity’?”

Only then did Marian Baum stop speaking and catch his breath. His vision was wavering so badly that he could not even make out the expressions on the faces of those around the table. He squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them again and tried to bring everything back into focus before speaking.

“Why do you think the technology we possess, this precious technology we forged with our own blood and sweat, is worth less than the strategic information Bavaria has provided? That is what I am saying is unjust, Chairman. The pride of our Catacombs is being undermined by the very thinking that treats Bavaria’s information as a debt we owe them.”

Chairman Schweitzer closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. Then she opened them and rose from her seat. Was she going to leave just like this? At her silence, Marian Baum swallowed nervously.

But Chairman Schweitzer met Marian Baum’s gaze and spoke.

“I understand. Thank you.”

The Catacombs leadership made their way to the conference room with five minutes remaining before the scheduled meeting. They had planned to leave separately and at different times to take every possible precaution, but they could not afford to delay any longer.

As he entered the conference room, Marian Baum found himself face-to-face with a familiar figure.

Bavaria’s retainers were seated in a circle, all dressed in military uniforms, and at the center, the Crown Prince watched them. His exceptionally sturdy build and dignified features made him stand out even among the others. Marian Baum fell silent as he looked at the gold-adorned table and the banners hanging behind it. The layers of security magic he could sense in the air and beneath his feet, along with the retainers seated around the table, overwhelmed them. From the officers’ loyal yet restrained expressions to the rank of Oberst¹ visible on the shoulders and sleeves of the youngest Crown Prince, everything about them spoke of the Royal Family.

How were they supposed to persuade the Catacombs leadership here?

Of course, everyone knew what the atmosphere of the Royal Family was like. But seeing it with their own eyes was another matter entirely. They had all come here knowing what to expect, yet seeing it firsthand was enough to make every one of them feel a fresh sense of resentment.

Marian Baum’s task—although it had not truly ended when he briefly allowed himself to relax an hour ago, thinking he was finished—was, for the moment, finally over. At least he had brought the confrontation to a temporary close and made it out of there.

From this point on, the task of easing the leadership’s remaining hostility rested on the Crown Prince’s attitude.

Translator Note

1. Oberst is a senior field officer rank in several German-speaking and Scandinavian countries, equivalent to Colonel. ↩︎