Enri frowned a little. "I'm nothing. Just a peasant girl rescued by sheer chance. But having lost my whole village except for my sister, I can't just sit by while that's flung around all willy nilly like it doesn't matter what happens to people like me. Not that I don't understand, Momonga, I do." She emphasized and put her hand over her chest while she leaned over her plate, "I really do. I don't want that kind of danger for you, or your children, I don't want that for anyone though. What's the point of changing things if all you'll do is prove the worst people right?" She emphasized.
"The Slane Theocracy came to kill your village just to get one man, and still you speak for them?" Momonga asked, he could feel the natural melodrama settling in on his heart as his inner chuunibyou asserted itself.
"Yes! Because most of them would never do that! I've met a bunch of peasants in E-Rantel! Like, a lot, from all kinds of places, and I've never met one I had less in common with than a noble of my own country! People everywhere, I think, are just pretty much the same… I don't want them dying needlessly, just because they're weak and born on the wrong side of a border. I mean, helping the weak is just common sense, right?"
Touch Me might as well have been sitting right there where Enri was as she made her impassioned plea.
"Yes!" It was out of his mouth before Momonga could even think, and a plan came instantly to mind. A mad notion thrust on him by her words and her garb that made her appear anything but a peasant. "How about this then?" He said and held out an offering hand in her direction, "We will make sure to make you as powerful as you need to be. Nearly invincible, with a little invisible help. And you can travel into the Slane Theocracy as a wandering hero. Proclaim the message of peace among all kinds, rescue demihumans, monsters, vampires, begin a village there, a town, or a city even. We will provide you all the support you need, and keep it completely safe. The only ones who will need to die, will be the ones who won't share the world with you. It may take the rest of your life… or maybe only the next ten years, who can say? But in the end, you will rule the whole country with a minimum of loss."
"But- a- I-" Enri felt her face turn red, her impassioned plea in the face of plans she knew would cost countless lives had been a call for mercy, not intended to put her on a throne.
"I'm just a peasant!" She finally managed to stammer out.
"So am I." Gazef said, "And yet I stand beside the royal family."
"Don't worry, we can provide you with some support as well." Jircniv reassured her, already in his mind the promise of clinking coins from early merchant contracts, were dancing in his imagination.
"Yes. Start on the eastern border on the crossroads of my Kingdom, and you'll be in a good position for us to provide supplies to get you started. You're going to be an unkillable hero, and don't worry about it, the first king in history was nothing but a lucky soldier. Or so my grandfather said." Draudillon asserted with an amused smile at Enri's consternation.
"You know, a long time ago, in another world, there was a king who attacked a city, the city killed his tutor, who had gone to negotiate peace, and put his body on display to mock the king. This so incensed the King that he took the city in a single day, and slew its noble masters. When the battle was over, he was walking the streets of the city contemplating who should be its new ruler, and he saw to his surprise, a gardener tending a garden that had somehow survived the fighting unplundered. The King asked, 'Who is that?' and he was told the man's name, after which the King asked, 'How is it that his garden still stands?' To which he was told, 'He refused to let anyone through and fought back so harshly that our men searched for easier plunder elsewhere.' The King then said, 'That man shall be King.' And the gardner became the greatest King the people there had ever known. Or so the story goes." Momonga recited the story as it was told to him, then cleared his throat.
He'd gotten carried away in his performance, and he knew it.
Momonga chuckled, "Forgive me, friends, I couldn't help myself. The point of the story is that if you're already fighting for people you don't rule, how can you fail to be a good ruler when you do rule?" He then reached into his pocket dimension and drew out two small horns. "When the time comes to go, and you have need of them, blow these horns and it will summon goblin soldiers to protect you and all that you wish to protect."
Enri caught the horns with ease and looked down at them in confusion. "Magic items?" She asked rhetorically.
Fluder's eyes went alight. "May I see?" He asked, and Enri nodded. He approached on quick, short steps that belied his great age and cast his appraisal spell.
"Marvelous! Wondrous! Before you use them, you must let me study the enchantments on them! You simply must!" He was practically begging.
'That's just a trash drop item, why is that so exciting?' Momonga wondered, and his estimation of this world's power dropped considerably.
"Yes, yes of course! You're going to help me after all, right, so the least I can do is let you study it, right?" Enri's face was beet red in the face of his wild enthusiasm, but more notably in the minds of the rest of the room, she'd accepted the task Momonga gave to her.
It wasn't until he was well into his study of the curious magic items that she realized what she'd done, and could not back out now.
"If you think I can do it… if it will save a lot of lives… but violence will always be my last resort. If that's okay, and you'll all help me when I need it… I'll do it. I'll repay the kindness shown in saving me and my sister… I always planned to somehow anyway, I just didn't expect to do it by saving the peasants of the country that killed my village…"
"To make the gods laugh," Neia said with a low chuckle, "tell them your plans."