Became the Villainess’s Guardian

Although she had started off a bit oddly for lack of better words, Freugne was actually having similar thoughts.
Since both parties were at fault, they should apologize.

However, Freugne was somewhat unsure how to categorize her relationship with Erine.

Freugne’s human relations could largely be divided into three: organization members, friends, and simply casual acquaintances. Edan was… an exception unto himself.

“Um… I’m sorry about yesterday.”

“…No, I should be the one to apologize.”

And after exchanging a few words, Freugne got a rough sense of what kind of person Erine was.

“I’ve heard quite a bit… no, a little about you.”

“About me?”

“From your aunt, and I was… no, not that I was curious or interested!”

What was this creature, behaving in such a flustered yet slightly embarrassed manner?
Contrary to her well-groomed appearance that seemed to suggest arrogance, she was unexpectedly modest.

That said, Erine herself did not seem to be a particularly good connection.
To be precise, since she could reach Keres Martop’s head Freyja through Edan, there was no need to actively maintain this connection.

Still.

‘Have a good time at school. Make lots of friends.’

Those were Edan’s words as he saw her off that morning.
While her initial intention had been to make connections, she realized there was no need to rigidly assess people solely in terms of gains and losses.

Moreover, hadn’t she left most of her friends behind at the public school? While she still occasionally kept in touch with some who were doing ‘highly profitable part-time work,’ nevertheless.
If Freugne did not intend to become a hermit who shunned the world while only keeping Sif by her side, she would have to make friends even if not for networking purposes.

“So, what did your aunt say about me?”

“That you’re a child Mr. Edan the mage takes special care of.”

“Heh.”

And absolutely none of this influenced her judgment in the slightest.

“Anything else?”

“…That you seem a bit excitable.”

In any case, on the second day of admission, the trio of Freugne, Erine, and Sif were assigned to the same class.

Erine suspected her aunt’s invisible influence at play but quickly dismissed the thought. It wouldn’t change anything now, after all.
Freugne had no particular thoughts on the matter. Her mood had been too good since the previous evening for any trivial emotions to intrude.

There were no grand national rules of the academy, grandiose entrance exams, or freshman tests disguised as welcomes.

If they were to learn combat magic, they should have chosen a relevant major at a separate university or simply enrolled in a military academy instead.
Of course, with the defense industry crumbling and Edan’s accounts depleting as a result, not many would make such a choice.

Still, they did take a written test to assess their basic qualifications for admission.
After receiving her score sheet, Freugne glanced at Sif’s and remarked:

“You must have studied diligently.”

“Yes, yes! Mr. Edan the mage told me not to waste this opportunity, so I worked hard!”

“…You’re better at studying than I expected?”

In this era where education was not yet available to all, simply attending high school made one something of an elite.
And being an elite generally meant having a wealthy family background or at least some degree of power, with a few exceptions like Freugne and Sif.

“Welcome to Cardiff School.”

“From now on, you will study in greater depth subjects you have learned in public schools or from home tutors, such as geography, mathematics, science, and history.”

“And once you have completed all that, you will learn magic individually.”

Some came with pure academic ambitions, others with aspirations for success, still others were pressured by their families, and some simply followed the crowd.

People of diverse backgrounds, social statuses, and goals had gathered in this space.
Setting aside talent scouting, for Freugne, it was an unparalleled opportunity to witness a wider range of potential futures.

And who knew?
Perhaps there were clues about the future Edan was aiming his gun at.

After submitting Freugne’s adoption request, it took about two weeks to receive approval, going through the analog processing procedures of clerks without computers.

Around this time, I had a rough idea of how Freugne’s school life was going.
As Freyja and I looked out the window, I remarked while sipping my tea:

“She seems to be doing well.”

“Indeed, she appears to be making friends.”

As she had shown at the East Londinium public school, Freugne was once again gathering children around her.

Among them were children I had sent from my charitable foundation for education, and there seemed to be new faces as well, likely friends she had made at Cardiff. Above all, there was Erine, awkwardly tagging along behind her.

Well, children that age could quickly make up and become friends again even after fighting, couldn’t they?
It was better than adults obsessing over gains, losses, and pride.

Thanks to this, daily life remained as peacefully uneventful as ever.
The only notable difference from the usual was the surge of vitality I felt seeing Freugne’s adorable display of awkwardly showing off her newly issued identification after the adoption was approved.

“Hmm.”

And yet, something felt vaguely unsettling in the back of my mind.
It was as if I was forgetting some crucial matter.

‘…Ah, the war!’
I abruptly raised my head from gazing out the window, startling Freyja who had been lazily enjoying the afternoon beside me.

It seemed that between taking in Freugne as my adopted daughter, commuting to Martop like any other mage, and routinely shredding incoming tax bills, I had unconsciously mistaken this world’s genre for a slice-of-life.

As far as I knew, the Demon Lord’s invasion was still around… giving it a very generous estimate, maybe 6 or 7 years away.

While the butterfly effect is a thing, the actions I had taken in Londinium so far did not seem likely to significantly impact that period.
However, the kingdom’s government did not appear particularly concerned about national defense, and the neighboring human nations showed no signs of special concern upon hearing the news either.

Yes, I was now convinced.

“So it falls to me alone to save humanity, it seems…”

“Um, Mr. Edan.”

“Ah, yes.”

Someone called out from behind me as I struck a pose, gazing into the distant mountains.

It was an employee who had come regarding some adjustments needed for importing Keres Martop products into the southern Belfast Republic.
After briefly conveying instructions to him, I received documents containing the delivery schedule and other details.

To think Keres Martop, once only vaguely known within Londinium, had transformed to this extent.
Come to think of it, having nurtured this company so dearly, it was akin to my second child, was it not? I was filled with profound emotion.
If not for the certainty of war with the demonic tribes, I could have fully savored this joy.

“Have you considered establishing factories overseas? At this rate, it might not be a bad idea.”

“I’ll have to discuss that within Martop before deciding.”

“I see. Ah, by the way, the Londinium Martop Union will be holding a group exhibition soon. Any chance you’ll be participating?”

“Of course, I’ll need to attend and participate directly.”

Recently, for some reason, Freyja had been proactively engaging in external activities without me having to encourage her.
Mainly, she had been slowly disappearing from events requiring her presence, such as shareholder meetings or presentations, possibly due to lingering PTSD. Thanks to her, my burden had been greatly reduced.
It could be interpreted as her regaining confidence in some way. And conveniently, I had a suitable proposal in mind.
After neatly concluding the contract and sending the employee off, I asked Freyja:

“Head of Martop, have you considered expanding outwards?”

“Expand, you mean…”

“As that employee mentioned, not just Londinium, but establishing factories throughout the kingdom and branch offices overseas.”

“If the economy is doing well, it would be good if we could, wouldn’t it?”

If asked why humanity lost the war against the demonic tribes, there is more than one answer.
Since [Londinium Survival Log] depicts the post-war period, I didn’t know the exact details, but I could make rough deductions from the scattered clues.

First, there was simply a lack of preparation. Developed weapons, stockpiled supplies, trained soldiers – everything was lacking.

Next, there was a lack of will to confront them. Even among the same race in my previous life, how many conflicts had arisen?
This other world was no different, and after the war with the demonic tribes ended, subtle tensions arose between nations. Up to this point, I had no major objections, but the problem was that it would lead to an all-out war with the demonic tribes.

Finally, there was Freugne’s backstabbing and betrayal.
However, since that had been resolved, it could be disregarded.

In any case, the conclusion to be drawn from this was that merely thriving within the Glasgow Kingdom was insufficient.
To truly make a difference, we needed to extend our reach and exert influence globally.

If my efforts so far had been to establish a foothold in society, now it was necessary to put Martop itself on a certain trajectory.

Finally, Freugne decided to make one last attempt to persuade Edan, considering their history together.

“So you really have no intention of changing your mind?”

“That’s right. If you call me ‘Dad,’ I might consider it.”

“…Ah, um.”

She had practiced a few times alone in her room.
It wasn’t that the word wouldn’t leave her lips, but rather… yes, she felt embarrassed saying it aloud.
Despite having readily agreed to become his adopted daughter, Freugne herself didn’t fully understand why she was being so ambivalent about this. Was it due to adolescence?

However, if it could bring even a little more happiness to Edan, then she would try it once, with eyes tightly shut.

“…Dad?”

“Good heavens.”

“Ugh…”

Edan, who had been clutching his chest, proceeded to stroke Freugne’s head before apologizing for being unable to reciprocate.
Yet Freugne did not feel disappointment at this… betrayal of sorts, or whatever it was. Rather, she might have even felt a little pleased.

So what could she do about this situation?
She could not forcibly seize his financial authority, and Edan himself could hardly entrust his entire fortune to his unsightly fifteen-year-old adopted daughter.

And in Edan’s eyes, Freugne sensed a subtle, unwavering conviction.
She realized that unless she began with ‘You see, I can see the future,’ there was no way to change his mind.

So, truly, she had no choice but to prepare for the eventuality of supporting Edan herself in the future.

And Freugne decided to start making those preparations now.
The timing was quite suitable. The organization had attained a certain level of discipline, she had attained the minimum stature to pursue greater ambitions, and she had secured capable personnel to entrust with tasks.

“There are some tight-lipped, capable investors among the organization members, right?”

“A few come to mind.”

“I should have the most suitable among them establish an investment company.”

As she prepared for the chaos that would engulf Londinium, Freugne had Ulr convey her instructions to the subordinate organization members.