If Not for the Correction System, I Would Have Collapsed Long Ago
Despite how mundane it feels now, if the “correction” system didn’t exist, I would have been overwhelmed a long time ago.
For all its faults, this so-called dating sim world isn’t devoid of game mechanics. Take domestic administration, for example. Its main components revolve around three elements: workforce, taxes, and personnel. The ultimate goal is to strengthen the nation. Naturally, achieving that requires securing more taxes and manpower, making efficient policy execution essential.
Efficiency is divided into two aspects: the efficiency of the policy itself and the efficiency of the system.
Let’s consider land taxation. If the tax policy efficiency is 30%, then out of an expected tax revenue of 100, only 30 will be collected. If the system efficiency is further reduced to 50%, only 15 will remain. While increasing the tax rate can raise the expected revenue, it’s a short-term, highly inefficient solution. So, how does one improve efficiency? That’s where personnel management comes in.
Improving the efficiency of policies or systems requires both funding and an abstract resource called “administrative power.” While money can always be sourced, administrative power depends on the caliber of the individuals assigned to execute policies. Administrative power is essentially derived from the administrative abilities of those carrying out the policies.
As a result, the more officials are involved, the higher the administrative power generated. But, as the number of officials increases, so does the expenditure. Furthermore, when it comes to junior officials, focusing on quality over quantity tends to be more efficient.
Given the limited resources at hand, I had to prioritize cost-effectiveness, which led me to carefully appoint executioners for specific policies.
The efficiency with which officials pool their administrative power depends heavily on the administrative abilities of the executioner in charge.
But raw ability isn’t the only factor. If the individuals lack integrity or loyalty, the policies’ efficiency and administrative power can suffer drastically. And this is precisely where my troubles began.
It was also to be expected. The Peloponnesian Peninsula, where Mystra is located, lies far from Constantinople, the imperial capital, which is isolated from the central government. Many regional lords refuse to acknowledge the empire’s authority, and some cities openly declare themselves independent.
Why would such people listen to a ten-year-old child who calls himself a prince simply because he is the fourth imperial prince?
As a result, efficiency concerns left the position of customs executioner vacant for about three weeks. There wasn’t a single candidate with the integrity and loyalty needed to handle the role.
The alternative was for me to take on the role myself.
Thanks to my diligence, my administrative ability was higher than others. Although I had no frame of reference to determine whether my score of 32 was high or low, it was clear that no one in Mystra could surpass it. Considering the highest local score was 23, the effect of my skill, [Solitary Growth], was undeniable—or perhaps the empire’s talent pool was just that bleak. Hopefully, it’s the former.
Despite my relatively high ability, however, the efficiency of administrative power under my leadership only reached 65%. Out of a potential 100, only 65 was being utilized.
Why?
Wasn’t my ability enough to outshine the most seasoned officials? I spent three days scrutinizing Mystra’s administrative information window, invisible to others, before realizing the problem wasn’t with me.
A new category had appeared, likely updated since I left the capital.
[National Authority].
Unlike other metrics, the tooltip next to “National Authority” kindly explained: in regions far from the central government, a low authority score leads to penalties on all policy efficiencies.
My whole body trembled as I clenched my head, tempted to repeatedly bang it on the desk.
This… This is…
“This is something I can’t fix on my own!”
Central government control?
How could a regional government possibly improve that? With the capital so far away and isolated, there’s no way to boost the central government’s authority. The only real solution would be to drive out the Ottomans cutting off the Balkans and reconnecting the peninsula to the capital. But that’s just a pipe dream. Impossible, at least for now.
Frustration bubbled up inside me.
How could this be a dating sim? How could anyone think staring at these metrics would lead to carefree fun with cute girls?
Is this the curse of being a lifelong loner?
As I wallowed in despair, news arrived that changed everything.
“Your Highness, His Majesty has launched an expedition to Corinth!”
An expedition to Corinth?
It made sense. While the Ottomans had just settled their internal conflicts, it was unlikely they’d break their fragile peace treaty to attack. Perhaps this was a rare opportunity. My father, Emperor Manuel II, might be seizing the moment to strengthen the empire’s influence over Morea.
Even so, I didn’t expect him to act so decisively.
I couldn’t help but admire his swift decision-making and judgment. This must be the wisdom of an emperor who has managed to hold a crumbling empire together.
But my excitement was short-lived. Upon hearing the size of the expeditionary force, my hopes plummeted. A mere 700 soldiers.
When Mehmed I of the Ottomans faced defeat in Europe, he raised an army of nearly 10,000 twice over and still had enough manpower for a third attempt. Such a vast difference in national strength was disheartening.
This must be the divide between those chosen by the times and those forsaken by them.
“Your Highness.”
The soldier’s call snapped me back to reality.
I couldn’t waste the opportunity my father had created. I resolved to raise as many troops as Mystra’s finances would allow for the expedition to Corinth.
With regular forces hindered by low imperial authority and uncooperative regional lords, most of the troops would have to be mercenaries. After calculations, I estimated that we could field around 500. While not a perfect match for the expeditionary force of 700, it wasn’t too far off.
As I searched for suitable mercenaries, an intriguing offer arrived from a Venetian merchant.
When I finally met the mercenary company after weeks of preparation, the commander was not what I expected.
The young age and refined appearance of the mercenary leader took everyone, myself included, by surprise. The court official accompanying me voiced his disbelief:
“Who are you? Bring forth the commander!”
“…I am the Grand Master of this mercenary company,” the youth replied calmly.
The unexpected encounter left me wondering what the future held.
“Your Highness! We were not informed that the mercenary leader was a woman!”
“To neglect to mention such a critical fact when arranging the contract!”
Discontent and indignation spread among the group. While they barely managed to tolerate her youth, it seemed the fact that she was a woman was more difficult for them to accept. As their employer, I shared a similar sentiment—not out of prejudice, but due to the undeniable physical differences between men and women in combat. No matter how strong a woman might be, it’s difficult for her to match a man under equal conditions on the battlefield. If she had overcome such disadvantages to become a heroine of war, her skills were undoubtedly exceptional, but…
It was a concern I couldn’t ignore. Being a woman was, after all, a significant disadvantage. The Venetian merchant likely understood this and deliberately concealed the fact. Resolving to hold him accountable later, I directed my gaze toward her.
Unfortunately, the suspicion in my eyes had to subside quickly.
Perhaps noticing the growing unrest among my group, the mercenaries’ demeanor changed dramatically. If things continued, a conflict with the mercenary company might erupt within Mistras. To avoid the tragedy of unilateral contract termination, I had to assert my authority as the employer above them.
“If she managed to become a mercenary leader at such a young age and as a woman, she must have talent.”
“Your Highness!”
“However, I cannot confirm the truth of that claim. Thus, I will hear directly from her mercenary company. Do you object?”
Her golden hair, barely brushing her shoulders, swayed as she shook her head. The objection came not from her, but from the magistrate.
“Your Highness, they could have coordinated their stories. Since they deceived us from the outset, they cannot be trusted.”
I lowered my voice, seeking to avoid premature conflict.
“They are showing determination.”
“…Indeed.”
It seemed the magistrate (Legal Offical) noticed as well. Though he hadn’t felt it earlier due to heightened emotions, he wasn’t incompetent. After all, he was a capable bureaucrat with an administrative score of 21. He likely understood the chaos that could ensue if the contract were annulled here and now, especially with 300 mercenaries already docked in the city. The devastation that could result would be catastrophic. Fortunately, my stopgap solution worked.
“The entire mercenary company supports her. That’s remarkable leadership—for a mere woman.”
Ignoring the guard’s barbed remark, I returned my focus to her. Whether the loyalty of her mercenaries was genuine or not, I had no choice but to trust for now.
“What is your name, Grandmaster?”
Perhaps this was the first time our gazes met. Her eyes were originally calm, almost indifferent. It might have been a form of self-suggestion to control her emotions. But the moment our eyes locked, something returned to her gaze. Was it bewilderment? Or something else?
“…A child?”
“Yes, I am your ten-year-old employer. I will pay your advance, reward you for fulfilling the contract, and, if you truly impress me, consider a long-term arrangement.”
“…….”
What’s with the silence?
Just as I found her reticence puzzling, the self-proclaimed Grandmaster knelt on one knee and quietly declared:
“My name is Ivania, Master.”
…
…?
“This feels a bit off. Is there an issue with the formalities?”
I glanced at the magistrate, who shook his head.
“There doesn’t seem to be a major deviation from protocol. At least, for now, let’s be glad we avoided a conflict.”
Hmm.
Hmmmmmm. Even amidst deep contemplation, I didn’t forget my duties.
“From today onward, I will employ you and your company for one year. Rest up, as we will soon join the expeditionary forces, but ensure that discipline remains intact.”
“We obey, Master.”
…This is extremely unsettling.
“Grandmaster, lead your soldiers and set up camp in front of the palace. I will soon assign your quarters.”
“As you command, Master.”
…
I couldn’t hold it in any longer.
“Grandmaster.”
“Yes, Your Highness?”
“The master of your body and soul is the holy one you revere, not me. By the terms of our contract, you may refer to me with a title befitting my status or as your lord, but refrain from calling me ‘Master.’ It could cast doubt on your faith.”
I didn’t wait for a reply. Turning on my heel, I left the scene, the magistrate trailing behind me. He leaned in to whisper.
“This mercenary company doesn’t leave a good impression.”
“Even if I organize a new army now, it will merely consist of local aristocrats’ private forces, not a formal imperial army. For now, we must rely on them until the Empire’s authority is restored.”
“Your Highness…”
“As always, continue enforcing imperial law. Your dedication is essential to maintaining what little authority the Empire has left.”
The magistrate fell silent. His loyalty and integrity stats seemed to have risen slightly, suggesting my words had rekindled his sense of duty. He was a capable administrator, trustworthy enough to oversee taxes in my stead. Unfortunately, removing him from his position would further erode the already fragile imperial authority in Morea.
[National Authority] could be increased through grand achievements, but its long-term growth and sustainability required consistent enforcement of the law.
However, I doubted that higher authority would dramatically improve policy efficiency. A simulation game disguised as a dating sim couldn’t be that straightforward. What occupied my thoughts was the reason why national authority affected policy efficiency in the first place. It likely reinforced the authority of central government officials dispatched to the provinces, enhancing control. While not an absolute correlation, the relationship was significant enough.
If so, there might be another hidden metric influencing efficiency beyond national authority.
Returning to the palace ahead of the mercenary company, I realized my hypothesis was correct.
A new parameter, [Personal Authority], had appeared, demanding I achieve even more.
“Captain, are you all right?”
A few deputies cautiously approached Ivania, who had been kneeling in silence for some time. Yet, she didn’t so much as flinch. The deputies exchanged uncertain glances, unsure how to interpret her reaction.
“To doubt our captain’s abilities—this lord is nothing special.”
“The contract felt half-hearted. But once the captain shows her true skills, they’ll probably beg us to stay by the end.”
Flattery mixed with a trace of sincerity. If she had been born a man, she might have earned a noble title by demonstrating her prowess in tournaments. But as a woman, she was forever barred from such recognition. Even if she claimed not to care, the icy atmosphere that followed each instance of discrimination spoke otherwise.
“Come now, Captain, you’d best catch up with that insolent brat. It’s just the ramblings of a naive child from a crumbling empire, after all.”
Had the prince heard this, he’d likely have remembered it forever, ensuring retribution. Whether or not these words offered any comfort, they at least got Ivania to her feet.
“…Hah, the Empire’s prince.”
“Captain?”
“…Sigh.”
She let out a cryptic sigh, trudging forward with less energy than usual, leaving her deputies with no choice but to hold their tongues, unable to discern her true feelings.
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