"..."
"..."
"..."
"...Walter, please step aside for a moment."
"Yes."
"Eleanor, please hurry a little. Where was the painkiller?"
"It's right here."
"Thank you."
"..."
"..."
"..."
This is a hospital. After sending Margaret to London to establish a poorhouse clinic in Southwark, the others have been taking turns playing doctor.
...Let me briefly summarize how we got here.
First, the Englishmen, unable to endure the insult to Eleanor the 'Saint,' beat the hell out of that self-proclaimed French expedition.
Then the natives urgently intervened, asking why they were beating people to death, so they were brought here for now.
"K-kuh... kuh-hck..."
"H-hic... hic..."
All four were unconscious, and fortunately, there didn't appear to be any serious external injuries. For now, at least.
What if one of them has internal injuries? They're not going to die, right?
A foreign expedition died in our community? That's not going to be a problem, is it?
"Are you alright?"
"...I don't believe I am. Still, thank you for asking, Eleanor."
Hoo.
Caught off guard by a sudden, unexpected variable, my head had been spinning. I needed to get a hold of myself first.
A French expedition suddenly arrived here. There had definitely been nothing like this in the game catalog.
That could mean they were unimportant figures in the original history.
Or it could mean the very existence of this expedition was something that had never happened in the original history.
...Somehow, I had a feeling it was the latter. No, the game catalog had listed the names and routes of every expedition sent by England, Spain, France, and the like in the 16th century.
Which meant...
'The butterfly effect?'
What did I even do?
...Come to think of it, I saved a ruined colony, converted Walter Raleigh, created a new sect, cured the Black Death in London, and distributed aluminum, fruits, and various luxury goods to England.
I'd done a lot.
Unlike those book-possession protagonists who enter a novel, hog all the fortuitous encounters for themselves, and then say things like 'How strange... the protagonist party's growth is too slow,' I was able to accept this quickly.
Given everything I'd done so far, a butterfly effect was more than to be expected.
Seeing the fruits of my labor, the probability that France would cast greedy eyes toward the New World a bit earlier than in the original history was more than enough.
Right. I had more or less grasped the situation.
Now the question remained: 'So what do we do now?'
Should I... convert these guys too?
No. Walter Raleigh had the right opportunity, and even then, converting just one Raleigh took considerable time and resources.
Now is not the time. Thanks to the population explosion, I can't do anything even if I wanted to.
What could I even do with them in the first place? Should I prophesy like I did with Raleigh? But with history this twisted, what if I make some clumsy prophecy and turn out wrong?
It was questionable whether there was any profit to be gained by luring them in. Raleigh was the Queen's favorite. But these guys? Aren't they just explorers?
France is even in the middle of a civil war, and I don't know which faction they serve. If I invest heavily only for it to turn out to be a failing stock, I refuse.
For now, avoidance is the best policy.
"Walter, Damas is hidden, so I'll take my leave for now. I'll leave their treatment and surveillance entirely to you."
"Understood."
So I left the hospital. Not long after I stepped out, screams erupted from behind me; it seemed they had woken up.
...I'd left it to Raleigh, so I shouldn't worry about it anymore.
I already had no shortage of things to do.
***
After a few days, Francois was back in good shape.
His slightly dislocated jaw had returned to normal, and the swelling from his punched nose and face was slowly subsiding.
Still, the memory of that beating lingered, so he only circled around his quarters, slightly intimidated... but soon overcame his trauma and was able to look around the settlement here and there under the Englishmen's 'guidance (and surveillance).'
"So... you said this place's population only recently grew like this?"
"Yes. Originally about 10,000 people lived here, but over just a few months, natives flooded in and it doubled."
"Hah! How amusing."
To his eyes, only the settlement's weak points were visible.
Although houses lined up in rows of dozens, the majority of the gathered population had nowhere to stay and lodged in tents or the crude huts characteristic of barbarians.
Moreover, as there seemed to be no proper farmland, most of the people appeared to be eking out each day by densely planting crops in narrowly divided plots.
Anyone could see that this was a settlement whose population had been forcibly inflated recently.
If only a few more months had passed, the majesty of this 'fake empire' surviving on numbers alone might have been slightly more convincing, but it was too late now that he had already arrived.
That wasn't all.
A bustling crowd.
"What is going on over there?"
"Ah... it seems other tribes are coming to submit as well."
"Offering treasures?"
"Voluntarily, of course."
Natives were bringing suspiciously large amounts of treasure and submitting, yet it was 'voluntary'?
Nonsense.
He might be stuck here and unable to investigate properly, but it was clear the Englishmen's conquest was ongoing. If not that, they were using food as a weapon during a famine to cause trouble.
Forced migration, plunder, and conquest.
Seeing all three things the Englishmen claimed they would never do happening simultaneously, Francois couldn't hold back a bitter smile.
Was this that peaceful 'civilization'? Was this that moral 'evangelization'?
"Wait, you cannot go outside today."
"What is it?"
"...You just can't."
Worst of all, sometimes the Englishmen would confine them to their quarters for no reason.
Then after a few days, when they came outside, bizarre things would have happened: tens of acres of forest would have disappeared, or tens of acres of new farmland would have been plowed.
It was obvious.
Forced labor.
They had clearly enslaved the natives and were working them brutally. There was no other way they could clear that much forest and wasteland in such a short time.
Francois finally reached his conclusion.
"My nephew, I believe we've obtained all the information worth getting. We may leave."
Samuel answered.
"Huh? Ah, but there's still so much left to see?"
Hmm? More to see?
"What more is there to see? Native slaves in shackles?"
"No! Captain, have you ever seen potatoes like these? They are far tastier than those known in Europe, and the tubers are much larger! And the chickens are so fat and huge..."
Samuel spoke excitedly.
"The barbarians—I mean, the natives living here—their agricultural technology seems enormously developed! This tool called a 'hoe' that they use, and everything else—there is nothing that isn't amazing!"
"..."
Francois pressed his head at Samuel's foolish words and spoke.
"You."
"Yes, Captain. What do you think of these amazing things..."
"Think about it."
It was a problem even a child could answer.
"Why would a people with developed agricultural technology not farm and instead wander around relying on hunting and gathering?"
"...Huh?"
"If their agricultural technology is so great, why haven't they settled somewhere and continued a nomadic life?"
"W-well, that's..."
"Right. Their chickens might be somewhat large and their potatoes somewhat tasty. But wouldn't there be a problem, such as abysmal harvest volume?"
"But the food seemed far too abundant for that?"
"They must have imported that from England. So are you saying only the potatoes here in America are tasty, and only the chickens here are large and fat? Were chickens even native to the New World in the first place? It would be more realistic to say they fell from the sky."
"..."
Having perfectly refuted his foolish nephew's opinion, Francois rose again.
"The barbarians here are simply barbarians. Poor barbarians being exploited by England, at that. Now then, let us prepare to depart..."
"But what about the Emperor's authority? All the people here seemed to possess tremendous reverence for the Emperor."
"..."
"Everyone said they eat and live thanks to the 'Great Chieftain.' If the Emperor has secured this much authority and loyalty, that means there's an organized government..."
"The Emperor has such great authority? When the chieftains here are on the verge of being overthrown?"
"Huh?"
"And saying they live thanks to the Emperor—isn't that a primitive religious notion? Even ignorant peasants believe a king's touch can heal wounds."
"..."
"You, think about it from the start. Living thanks to the Emperor? If the Emperor didn't fall from the sky and toss down potatoes and whatnot, does that make sense? If the Emperor isn't personally plowing hundreds of acres of land, does that make sense?"
In the end, it was all ridiculous superstition.
"Above all, if they were civilized, they wouldn't be helplessly dominated by the English..."
"They didn't seem particularly dominated. And if their agricultural technology wasn't developed, how do you explain those sweet grapes?"
"They were probably sweet to begin with."
"If they were being forcefully exploited, why would they give gifts and submit?"
"The Englishmen probably threatened them with force, or enticed them with food during a famine. Isn't there a drought right now? Or food was so insanely abundant they just gave it as gifts. But how could a newly established colony have a food surplus?"
"..."
"..."
At this rate, the argument seemed endless.
They glared at each other and continued arguing... until they realized the other two were not in the same spot and looked around.
The other two were pressed against the lodging window, looking outside.
"You two... what are you doing?"
"Huh? We're watching the native Emperor."
"...What?"
The Emperor.
The being they had never once properly shown them.
"H-how do you know what you're seeing is the Emperor?"
"You can tell at a glance. Would you like to see?"
Upon hearing this, Francois and Samuel rushed to the window and watched the crowd visible as dots in the distance.
A mixed crowd of Englishmen and local barbarians surrounded a man.
And that man... he easily stood out because he was a head taller than everyone else.
Everyone was kneeling toward him or carefully bowing their heads.
Even the Englishmen.
Baron Raleigh, mixed among them, was assisting him like a subject.
"..."
"..."
The two fell silent.
"H-hey! You can't look outside right now!"
Soon the Englishmen watching them approached from outside and closed the window.
But the sight they had just seen was not forgotten.
Even though they had truly seen him from afar... they could feel that the gazes directed at him were no ordinary thing.
"Captain? Ah, I think I need to correct what I said earlier. What we just saw wasn't so much reverence..."
"...It was 'love.'"
He was loved.
Francois and Samuel hastily took out notebooks and pens and began scribbling.
It was a report for His Majesty the King.
The day after writing that report, they departed from the English colony.
It was the strangest experience of their lives.
***
-'To the great King who governs Great France by the blessing of God.
I hereby declare that there is not a single lie in the contents I am about to report, and that all of it was seen and heard directly by myself, not received from another's account.
...
...
...
Based on the above observations, the English colony seems clearly operated in an inhumane and immoral manner, entirely contrary to their propaganda.
Furthermore, the substance of their colony and the so-called 'native empire' was exceedingly crude and unworthy of concern.
...
...
...
However.
If there is one thing worthy of careful observation, it is the substance of that 'native Emperor' whom the Englishmen put forward.
The loyalty and respect the populace (even including the Englishmen) hold toward him appeared deeper than the love any excellent monarch I know receives from their people. Furthermore, the faith in him appeared akin to a very devout Christian serving his Savior.
From this, I suspect that the identity of the so-called 'Emperor' may be the spiritual pillar of the natives, or a symbolic monarch.
Even if he holds no real authority, it was clear that his presence and leadership had strongly captivated both the natives and the Englishmen of the settlement.
Considering the above factors, if France were to expand colonies here, evangelize the natives, and obtain the resources of America, Your Majesty's greatness would increase all the more.
Your faithful servant, Francois Grave.'