“Um, er… Is that something that’s okay to tell the people?” Poncho hesitantly asked the question everyone was thinking. However, Souma’s expression didn’t change in the slightest.
“The more you hide, the more people doubt you. There are things we need to hide when it comes to foreign affairs, but for internal policy, I intend to continue disclosing such things. You see, I want my fellow countrymen to use their heads. What is best for this country? Are my policies correct? I want them to think along with me.”
“I’ve never seen a king like this before…” someone whispered.
It was unheard of for a ruler to ask his people to think about politics with him. Technically, even in this country, there was a Congress of the People which represented their will, but it was, to put it simply, “a place to decide on the people’s pleas to the king.” The king was free to implement or not implement them as he saw fit, and the content of these congresses was limited to things like requests to correct the inflation in prices for X or requests for public works spending. It was about as useful as having a suggestions box, and it was not a place for debating political decisions.
The feudal system was also still strong in this country. To put it at its simplest, the political system in this country was “Those below pay their taxes. Those above protect the lives and property of those below.” That was all there was to it.
Commoners paid taxes to their lords, and the lords guaranteed their lives and property. Their lords (the nobility) paid taxes to the king, and in exchange for them serving in the military in times of crisis, the king guaranteed their lives and property. It was a society with a complete class system.
When there was rot at the top, the rot risked spreading throughout. However, to look at it the opposite way, so long as the people above them were on the level, the people didn’t need to think about national policy; they could think about nothing but themselves. So it was an easy system to be part of in that way.
However, this young king had asked the people to use their heads. He had asked them to think about his policies with him.
There was no clear path yet for political participation from the people. And even if they were to be given that right, it was clear to see that the uneducated citizenry would descend into mob rule. However, even so, he sowed the seeds.
“This country’s going to change…” someone said.
“I envy young’uns who’ll be able to see that change,” an old man added.
“Oh, we’re not done yet,” another one said.
While looking at the young king, the old squinted their eyes, as if blinded by his radiance.
Without any way to know this, Souma continued his explanation.
“As you see here, we will have to wait until autumn for a fundamental solution to the problem. It goes without saying that we intend to provide support, but there are issues of volume and geography preventing us from reaching every person in the kingdom with it. Not everyone lives in the flatlands, after all.”
This was a country with many races living together. From the dark elves who lived in the forest, to the dragonewts who preferred to live at high altitudes like in the mountains, to the dwarves who lived in underground caves, there were those who lived in places supply lines did not pass through, and it would be difficult to deliver relief supplies. It was the same for those who lived in marginal villages deep in the mountains.
“That is why I come to you, my countrymen, with a request… no, an order.” Here, Souma stopped. Then, after a breath, he said clearly: “Everyone, survive until autumn.”
When they heard those words come from the young king’s mouth, the people gulped. The words’ meaning was simple. However, his intent behind them was inscrutable.
“Because we have no cards to play, you will all need to survive for yourselves,” the king said. “Go into the mountains, into the rivers, into the sea, in search of food. Cooperate with each other and bow your heads to others if necessary, no matter how humiliating it is, because I want everyone to survive until autumn.”
Those words could have been heard as an abdication of responsibility. He was telling those who were suffering to go work hard on their own, after all. However, it was also true that only those who worked hard would be saved.
The young king bowed his head sincerely. “Please. When I say everyone, I mean every last one of you. Don’t lash out at others because you’re suffering; don’t send away children because you have too many mouths to feed; do not throw away the old and frail. I want you all to greet the bounty of autumn together. This broadcast is something we’ve put together in the hopes that it will be some help with that.”
Souma went into the objectives of the current broadcast. As a means of buying time until the food crisis could be solved, they would introduce ingredients not commonly eaten in this country and show the ways to prepare them. These ingredients could be obtained cheaply (or freely where they grew in the wild). Furthermore, by eating those ingredients on air, they would demonstrate that they were edible.
Even those citizens who had been indignant at his earlier statement, which had seemed to abdicate responsibility, felt their anger cooling as they listened to Souma’s explanation. Because this king truly was thinking about them. They could feel that keenly.
“…So, there you have it. Now then, I’ll hand the show back over to your hosts, Poncho and Juna.” With his explanation complete, Souma returned to his seat.
Souma couldn’t have known this, but at that moment, roaring applause erupted through plazas around the country. It was spontaneous applause from those citizens deeply impressed by Souma’s words. Without knowing it, Souma was slowly beginning to gain recognition as their king.
The video returned to Poncho and Juna hosting once more.
“Now then, let’s get right to it,” Juna said. “Poncho, what’s our first ingredient?”
“Y-Yes! Our first ingredient is right here!”
With that, Poncho brought over a cloth-covered box, placing it on the table where Souma, Liscia, Aisha, and Tomoe were seated like guest commentators.
It was a box big enough to hold a largish aquarium.
Pausing a moment for dramatic effect, Poncho pulled back the cloth.
We were in the cafeteria at Parnam Castle for the live broadcast.
“Urkh…”
“Eeeeeeeeek!”
“Wai— What?!”
When they saw what had appeared on the table, Aisha, Tomoe and Liscia each let out their own cries of shock.
Juna, on the other hand, looked at it and seemed to be thinking, “Ohhhh, so that’s it.”
“That’s an octopus.”
“It sure is an octopus.”
The thing in the box in front of them was the eight-legged wriggly soft-bodied creature you all know to be an octopus.
While many of the creatures in this world had a touch of the fantastic about them, such as even the cows and chickens having armored carapaces, this was just a straight-up (though rather large) octopus. Well, even in fantasy worlds, giant octopuses are often a thing, so I guess it’s okay?
By the way, in this country, they called octopuses “ocatos,” but that’s just confusing, so we’ll stick with octopuses. I mean, with my mysterious translation ability, the word sounded like “octopus” to me, anyway.
“Huh? You people don’t eat octopus in this country?” I asked.
“We do not! Hold on, Souma, have you actually eaten one of those creepy things before?!” Liscia looked at me incredulously.
Come on, it’s just an octopus, you know? I’m having a hard time accepting this reaction.