How To Live As A Writer In A Fantasy World-Chapter 464: Nibble (1)

It happened while Isaac was completely dazed, staring at a newspaper headline that screamed, “Hitler is Zenon!”

Most readers treated Blood and Steel as pure fantasy, and even when elements of science or philosophy appeared, they brushed them off without much thought.

A few people did delve deeper, but the story was so different from their world that they couldn’t fully accept it.

A world without mana or magic? And only humans exist? How did it even survive without collapsing? Isn’t it way too weak?

Because these thoughts were so deeply rooted, people might immerse themselves in the story, but they didn’t take it seriously.

At least, the majority didn’t.

There were, however, a few who approached Blood and Steel with sincere curiosity and contemplation.

“Hmm…”

Among them was Marquis Gert von Matthius—one of the only three marquis houses in the Minerva Empire, and the one responsible for the borderlands.

A man with brown hair grown into a lion-like mane tied into a ponytail, and a long scar on his cheek that gave him a wild, beast-like impression.

He was currently staring intently at the ending of Blood and Steel Volume 2.

‘A rebellion is coming.’

So thought the marquis as he casually closed the book.

The Weimar Republic lacked a military, and society was unstable.

And now, a revolutionary was rising like a comet, quickly gaining support.

In situations like this, it was historically common for such a hero to seize power through rebellion.

As such, the next part of the story was predictable.

But what Marquis Matthius was focused on was something else entirely.

He turned back to Volume 1.

Though Volume 1 mostly depicted Germany after its defeat in World War I, it also briefly described the military unit Hitler belonged to.

What caught the marquis’s eye were unmistakably the “guns” and the “military ranks.”

‘They’re not given to a select few, but individual weapons…’

Triggering a projectile with a pull of the finger was similar to a crossbow.

But even crossbows have difficulty piercing plate armor.

However, the guns introduced in Blood and Steel treated such armor as trivial—mere decoration.

And what’s more, they were issued to individuals as personal weapons.

Even training crossbowmen, let alone archers, requires tremendous time and resources.

Hence, such soldiers are considered elite units.

But guns as personal weapons…?

‘The training required doesn’t even compare.’

Mastering the bow demands years of life dedication.

In contrast, anyone can be trained with a gun.

Pull the trigger, and that’s it—what more do you need?

With only limited information, Marquis Matthius quickly grasped the strategic value of guns—just like a seasoned commander would.

‘The trade-off, of course, is the fixed firepower.’

He also correctly identified the gun’s greatest weakness.

While described as a “wand of science” that turns everyone into a mage, in the end, a projectile is still just a projectile.

But that’s only true by the standards of their world.

In Blood and Steel’s setting—Earth—where there is no mana, guns possess immense destructive power.

But this world is different.

Take Hawk, for example, the famed “Red Lion.”

Even if you gave him a gun, he’d probably do better just beating people to death with it rather than pulling the trigger.

This is a world where a well-trained knight can slay an ogre, and people can use magic to unleash catastrophes.

Even so, the introduction of guns shocked readers and left them wondering if such a thing was even possible.

‘The fact that they’re easy to train with is a terrifying advantage on its own.’

Easy training means you can simply grab a healthy person and train them quickly.

In practical terms, it means you could conscript archers limitlessly.

If feasible, this could exponentially increase military power.

Currently, the Minerva Empire operates on a volunteer-based military system, not conscription.

In times of war, they mainly hire mercenaries.

That’s not to say they have no soldiers—those who awaken mana become knights, and those who don’t remain soldiers.

‘For someone with average talent to even sense mana, it takes about three years. Strengthening their body with it takes another two.’

So that’s five years already.

And imbuing mana into a blade—commonly known as aura blade—varies wildly by talent.

Some achieve it in a year.

Others stagnate for ten and never manage it.

Mana itself is the pinnacle of unfairness.

It’s no wonder demons and elves are called “broken” races.

‘And yet, the human alliance won the race war. Alvenheim may have self-destructed, but…!’

War is a numbers game.

That rule holds even in racial wars, and Marquis Matthius strongly agrees.

The human alliance’s victory was due to Alvenheim’s self-collapse, Helium’s secret support, and their overwhelming numbers.

Even if it took ten knights to bring down a single elf warrior—it was still enough.

The wars that followed weren’t much different.

Even with devastating magic raining from the skies, ground troops still had to occupy territory in the end.

‘If only we could produce guns…’

Then not only the Minerva Empire, but humanity—the most populous race—could finally seize true dominance.

But for now, this remained in the realm of fantasy.

Even in Blood and Steel, their power hadn’t been properly depicted yet.

Only two volumes had been released, after all, but the marquis had high hopes for what’s to come.

And if, just if, a weapon more powerful than guns appears…

What kind of destructive force would it unleash?

‘Weapons are one thing—but military ranks must be systemized too.’

His next focus was on the military ranking system.

The protagonist (or so-called protagonist), Hitler, held the rank of corporal, and other ranks were mentioned as well.

Of course, the state had collapsed, and the military had disbanded, making those ranks meaningless—but the marquis took interest nonetheless.

In the Minerva Empire and most other nations, there’s no real concept of military hierarchy.

Differences are based on experience or skill.

Ranks exist only to distinguish commoners from nobles—not to be applied within military structures.

‘But with a clear ranking system, organizing units would be easier. The chain of command would be more stable.’

A military must follow a strict top-down command structure—that’s its core principle.

If that core splits, whose orders should be followed?

The empire may be peaceful internally, but the outside world is anything but.

In the north, beastmen are beginning to stir.

To the east, the Starvik people are crying out for independence.

And to the south, across the sea, their rival and sworn enemy—the Kingdom of Teres—remains firmly entrenched.

“Hmm…”

Marquis Matthius pressed his fingers against his brow, overwhelmed by the complex thoughts.

Due to the bloody wars of the past, both nobles and commoners alike are accepted into the military based on talent.

But the current problem isn’t a lack of talent—it’s that there’s too much of it, to the point of being a burden.

[Upon becoming a soldier, relinquish your rank.]

That line encapsulates the fundamental philosophy of the Minerva Imperial Army.

If anyone goes against that principle—they are mercilessly expelled.

Thanks to this unique culture, countless talented individuals voluntarily entered the military, but ironically, they have no idea where or how to apply themselves.

Of course, knowing how to properly utilize troops is both a virtue and a skill of a commander.

Marquis Matthius clearly recognizes this, and so do the other military families.

‘But why is there so little focus on logistics…?’

The real problem is that most of these military-minded talents are only interested in “tactics.” That’s the most troubling part.

A commander who crushes the enemy with brilliant tactics? On the surface, it’s dazzling and perfect for gaining fame.

But in Marquis Matthius’s eyes, it’s enough to make him curse under his breath.

Armies, historically, are infamous not just for being money pits—but bottomless dragons when it comes to expenses. They produce absolutely nothing.

‘This is why we can’t even touch the mana locomotive…’

The most frustrating issue is the mana locomotive. The moment he saw the steam engine in The Chronicles of Zenon, his normally calm heart started to race.

If only we had that! If we could just invent it, we could solve most of those damned supply problems!

We could give better support to the troops fighting the brutal war against the northern beastfolk!

Magical supply transport? That’s something only elves or demons, who treat magic like an extension of their limbs, can even dream of doing.

Maybe small items—but if we could teleport large quantities at once, we’d have done it by now.

There’s always a risk of the entire shipment disintegrating into dust. That’s why we still rely on wagons for transport.

Sigh.

“Might as well just depict soldiers starving to death.”

Marquis Matthius let out a deep sigh. Honestly, he hated Zenon—Isaac—so much it hurt.

Yes, The Chronicles of Zenon is undoubtedly a book worthy of going down in history. He didn’t really deny that.

But The Chronicles of Zenon is essentially an epic saga of a hero—it doesn’t show the brutal, devastating reality of war.

Even when it does, it only depicts grand, noble scenes filled with self-sacrifice.

Because of that, more and more “novices” are focusing only on tactics, and it’s giving him a headache.

‘If only His Majesty would throw his support behind it…’

The mana locomotive currently being developed by Eins has a swarm of people trying to get a piece of the pie. Marquis Matthius is among them.

But Eins has made it clear he’ll follow the opinion of the “original creator”—Isaac. And Isaac is someone even a marquis like him can barely get an audience with.

He thought about reaching out through Duke Requilis, who had some connection, but even that avenue wasn’t promising.

Even Emperor Verit had basically said, “Handle it yourself,” so Matthius had no choice but to play politics.

‘Even Hitler waged war the moment he became king, so I’ll wait and see.’

Marquis Matthius rubbed his temples and glanced at his book.

As the head of a military household, he fully expected Hitler to start a war the moment he seized power.

You can stir the hearts of a defeated people with speeches and propaganda, but to truly win over the public, you need results.

And results, in this case, mean war. Only through achievements can Hitler become a true “hero.”

A real hero would care about feeding the hungry during wartime. Otherwise, he’s just a lucky tyrant.

Marquis Matthius chuckled and shook his head. But since this is Isaac’s work, he’ll surely grow into a true hero, not a mere tyrant.

All he could do for now was watch and wait. He let out another deep sigh and picked up the report.

It contained serious news—military families within the Empire had clashed in the Stavirk region.

Knock knock knock—

While reading the report, someone knocked on the door. Marquis Matthius didn’t even glance toward it and spoke bluntly.

“Come in.”

As soon as permission was given, a man opened the door and entered. The sound of his boots echoed through the office, gradually approaching.

Marquis Matthius glanced at him briefly, and his already grim expression darkened even more.

But the man didn’t care. Smiling faintly, he strode right up to Matthius and spoke loudly.

“Marquis Matthius! Have you been well?”

He spoke with a soldier’s sharp posture and booming voice. Marquis Matthius set the report down and looked at him.

He didn’t even bother to hide his exasperation—his face was already worn with fatigue.

“Yeah. What is it this time, Viscount Callas?”

The man addressed as Viscount Callas wore a neatly tailored uniform that screamed, “I’m a soldier.”

His dull blond hair was slicked back, exposing a broad forehead. His blue eyes sparkled with fanatic energy, reflecting his eccentric nature.

But his most distinctive feature was his thick lips. Overall, he had a rather peculiar appearance.

Many—including Marquis Matthius—called him a “weirdo.”

“I came to ask if you’ve read the report I submitted.”

“I could’ve just sent someone to check. Why bother coming yourself?”

“I couldn’t help it.”

Haa…

Marquis Matthius sighed deeply, already feeling like his soul was being drained.

Viscount Callas had a fiery personality that paid no mind to rank.

To put it nicely, he was “bold.” Realistically, he just had zero sense of propriety. And yet, he still kept his position. Why?

“Because the only reliable bastard left is this crazy one…”

Because he was competent. Especially in logistics, which Marquis Matthius valued the most.

He always said, “An army marches on its stomach.” In fact, the northern front—logistically the most difficult—is under his command.

His brash attitude aside, his skills were acknowledged. That’s why Matthius kept him close.

“That damn ‘bombardment’ or whatever it is—can’t you just drop it already? Magic would be better.”

But even though Callas excelled at logistics, his obsession with odd ideas was frustrating.

At Matthius’s plea, Callas shook his head firmly and spoke resolutely.

“I support training more mages. It might even be more efficient.”

“Then why…”

“Not enough firepower. And what if the mage dies? It’s a big problem. Instead, we can just improve cannons until they rival magic in power.

Cannons can be operated even by soldiers who don’t use mana.”

“Hahahaha…”

Marquis Matthius let out a hollow laugh. It all sounded so easy when said aloud.

But he knew exactly how much investment it would take to develop such weapons. It’d be better to just train more mages.

“I reject the idea.”

“Why, sir?”

“Magic is better.”

Despite the firm rejection, Callas looked disappointed. But what could a mere viscount do? He had no choice but to sit tight.

Still, he wasn’t about to give up.

“Understood. If you change your mind, I’ll be waiting anytime.”

“I doubt I will.”

In Blood and Steel, guns had made an appearance, but they were still more fantasy than reality. Marquis Matthius thought the same for now.

If the book introduced the concept of “bombardment,” maybe he’d reconsider. But that was unlikely.

“Anyway, are there any special requests in the Navy Knights’ supply list?”

“Ah, yes. There is. But I’ve never seen it before myself…”

“Never seen it?”

“Yes.”

Viscount Callas looked at Marquis Matthius and answered plainly.

“A square board… and black and white stones… apparently.”

“…What are they planning to do with that?”

“I’m not sure either. But I hear it’s insanely popular within the unit.”

At that moment, Matthius still had no idea.

“Just give it to them. The Navy Knights know what they’re doing.”

“Understood. But if you could just approve a little extra budget…”

“No.”

The hook had already been baited.