"Well, if you enjoyed it so much, then come up with a solution. Otherwise, you can forget about your request," Herman said, clearly annoyed at seeing his son laugh at his predicament rather than helping solve it. The Marshal of Europe leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. He had spent the better part of a week listening to departments argue with one another, and his patience had long since evaporated. Seeing Natan find amusement in the situation only made his mood worse.
Natan merely rolled his eyes in response. From his perspective, the solution was fairly obvious. There was an old saying that those standing outside a problem often saw it more clearly than those trapped inside it. After watching military leadership argue itself into circles for days, he felt that saying applied perfectly to his father.
"Isn't the answer simple, Dad?" Natan asked. "You need to support both projects at the same time." He shrugged as if discussing the weather rather than a continent-wide infrastructure program. "Let's be honest, Europe needs roads to secure its borders, and it also needs ships to defend its coastlines. Ignoring either problem would be asking for trouble."
Herman narrowed his eyes. "I was already planning to develop both eventually," he replied. "If I completely ignore the roads, I can already imagine the complaints from parliament and the logistics branch." He tapped his fingers against the desk thoughtfully. "But what is this sudden concern about border defense? You sound like there is something urgent I should know."
The shift in Herman's demeanor was immediate. A moment ago, he had been annoyed. Now he looked like a military commander preparing for bad news. As Director of European Intelligence, Natan had access to information few people could see. If he believed there was a genuine security concern, Herman needed to hear it.
"Relax," Natan said, waving a hand dismissively. "I don't expect an invasion anytime soon." He leaned back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other. "However, our analysts have been studying the new borders since the expansion ended, and the situation is messy. Nobody is entirely certain where one nation's territory ends and another begins anymore."
That statement alone was enough to make Herman frown.
"The old borders don't really mean much now," Natan continued. "Entire mountain ranges appeared where none existed before. Rivers changed course, forests expanded, and hundreds of kilometers of new territory emerged between nations." He pointed at the map spread across Herman's desk. "If an important resource appears somewhere in that disputed land, countries are going to claim it regardless of where the old maps say the border should be."
Herman sighed heavily.
"You think resource disputes are inevitable."
"I know they are," Natan corrected. "Imagine discovering a massive iron deposit one hundred kilometers inside what we believe should be our territory." He spread his hands dramatically. "Do you really think another nation will simply walk away because we say the map belongs to us?"
The answer was obvious.
No government would willingly abandon a valuable resource if there was even the slightest chance they could claim it. Especially not now, when every nation was rebuilding itself from the ground up and desperately needed raw materials.
"And that's only the legal side of the problem," Natan continued. "The illegal side is even worse." His expression became more serious. "People are going to cross borders to steal resources. What we have in abundance may be scarce elsewhere. Why spend years developing a mine when you can simply raid someone else's?"
That possibility had already occurred to Herman, but hearing it confirmed by intelligence analysts was another matter entirely.
"You need roads to support border forces," Natan explained. "Boats can't patrol deep inland regions. Roads allow troops to move quickly and respond to incidents." He then pointed toward the coastlines marked on the map. "At the same time, you need a navy capable of intercepting raids and protecting trade routes. Both sides are right."
For several moments, Herman remained silent.
The frustrating thing was that Natan's reasoning made perfect sense. The military had spent so much time debating which option was better that they had forgotten the possibility that both might be necessary. Neither solution invalidated the other.
"So your advice is to support both?" Herman asked.
"Yes," Natan replied. "Present a plan that develops roads and shipping routes simultaneously." He grinned mischievously. "Then yell at everyone involved for allowing this problem to grow so large in the first place."
Herman barked out a short laugh despite himself.
Natan had always enjoyed causing trouble. It was one of the reasons he had ended up in intelligence rather than the military proper. He possessed a remarkable talent for identifying weaknesses in organizations and exposing them in the most inconvenient ways possible.
"You enjoy creating chaos far too much," Herman muttered.
"Only productive chaos," Natan corrected.
The military had adapted to the new world in many ways, but some traditions remained unchanged. Officers could advance quickly through the ranks based on strength and achievements, yet there was a limit to how far raw power could take someone. Beyond a certain point, leadership ability, administrative talent, and political skill became essential. Otherwise, commanders received honorary ranks without meaningful authority.
That system existed for a reason.
A powerful fighter was not necessarily a capable leader. The military could not afford to place entire armies under the command of individuals who happened to be strong but lacked judgment. As a result, the generals involved in this debate were all competent professionals. Unfortunately, that competence did not stop them from arguing endlessly.
"You're right," Herman finally admitted. "I'll call a meeting and settle this before the problem gets any worse."
Without missing a beat, he turned toward the open doorway.
"Rian!" he shouted.
Outside the office sat a man at a desk covered with schedules, reports, and communication logs. Officially, Rian served as Herman's secretary. In practice, many people considered him the second most powerful individual in the European military due to his influence and organizational control.
"Yes, sir?" Rian answered immediately.
"Schedule a meeting with the department heads," Herman ordered. "Today."
A wicked smile appeared on Rian's face.
"Of course."
He had overheard enough of the conversation to understand what was coming. Several generals were about to receive a verbal beating from the Marshal, and that inevitably created ripple effects throughout the military. When senior officers suffered, junior officers suffered. When junior officers suffered, recruits suffered.
It was the natural order of military life.
Once the matter was settled, Herman finally turned his attention back to Natan.
"Now," he said. "How exactly did you get here?" He gestured around the office. "This bunker is in Switzerland, built on top of a mana vein, and heavily secured. Intelligence headquarters is nowhere near this place."
Natan smiled.
"I walked."
Herman stared.
"You what?"
"I walked," Natan repeated. "It's surprisingly easy when you have enough money."
His explanation was technically true.
Everything he carried had been handmade and therefore lasted years when not worn down by natural wear and tear. Food and basic supplies could be purchased through the System shop whenever necessary. Traveling long distances had become far easier for wealthy individuals willing to spend the money.
More importantly, he had wanted to speak with Herman privately.
Some matters were too sensitive for phone calls.
"Fine," Herman said. "Now tell me what favor you actually want."
Natan's expression immediately became serious.
"I need a recommendation letter."
Herman blinked.
"That doesn't sound so bad."
"It is addressed to the Sonnenbergs."
The Marshal immediately frowned.
That changed things considerably.
His relationship with Karl Sonnenberg was good, but favors were favors. Calling one in required careful consideration, especially when the request involved matters Herman did not fully understand.
"What exactly are you trying to accomplish?" he asked carefully.
"I need confirmation that I am your son," Natan replied. "And I need an introduction to another family."
Now Herman was even more suspicious.
"What family?"
Natan hesitated for a moment before explaining.
He described the intelligence reports, the rumors dating back centuries, and the strange collection of references that should not have existed. Most of the evidence came from fragmented records, obscure accounts, and stories historians had dismissed long ago. Yet recent events suggested those stories might actually be true.
The more Herman listened, the more serious he became.
"You're talking about that assassination family?"
"Yes."
The room fell silent.
For six months, several prominent cult leaders had died under mysterious circumstances. The killings had been clean, precise, and impossible to trace. Intelligence agencies across Europe had investigated extensively without finding definitive answers.
Only recently had patterns begun to emerge.
"Don't worry," Natan said. "I only want an introduction." He spread his hands reassuringly. "Everything suggests they want contracts rather than conflict. If that's true, understanding their intentions is in everyone's best interest."
Herman remained unconvinced.
"If they want contact, why go through the Sonnenbergs?" he asked. "Why not approach them directly?"
"Because the Sonnenbergs are the only family we have confirmed ties with," Natan replied. "Apparently, they've maintained friendly relations for centuries."
That answer troubled Herman.
His own conversations with Karl had painted a very different picture. The great houses and old families deliberately concealed their networks from outsiders. Many of them had spent generations ensuring that governments knew as little as possible about their activities.
"Where did you get this information?" Herman asked carefully.
He leaned forward in his chair.
"I've spoken with Karl before. Their social circles are anything but public knowledge." His expression hardened. "Those old houses spent decades erasing evidence of their existence. After the Second World War, many records conveniently disappeared."
Natan nodded.
"I know."
"Then how can you trust the reports?"
That was the real question.
The families hidden behind history specialized in secrecy. Governments, intelligence agencies, and even historians often struggled to separate fact from fiction when dealing with them. If Natan's information was wrong, he risked embarrassing both himself and the European Intelligence Agency.
If it was correct, however, then Europe had been overlooking a powerful organization hiding in plain sight for centuries.
And that possibility was far more concerning.