How To Live As A Writer In A Fantasy World-Chapter 470: Beastman Democracy (1)

Although Animers has claimed to uphold a “chieftain system” since its founding by King Hik, in practice, it functioned much like a monarchy.

The highest position in the land, the “High Chieftain,” ruled over all of Animers, and the role was inherited through bloodlines.

Up to that point, it didn’t seem much different from other nations. However, once the culture of the beastkin was integrated, a critical problem emerged.

That problem was none other than the Holmgang—a tradition steeped in history that allowed one to formally reclaim the king’s position through rebellion.

Before Hik united the beastkin, it was considered an authentic expression of beastkin values. But not anymore.

Before “civilization,” it might have been tolerated, but now it’s regarded as nothing more than “barbarism.”

In fact, barbaric beastkin in the northern regions, clinging to this tradition, have been engaged in a bloody struggle with the Minerva Empire.

Fortunately, Hik’s successors were never militarily defeated, allowing Animers to enjoy 300 years of stable rule.

However, the feared issue eventually surfaced. The High Chieftain was assassinated due to a Holmgang.

Worse yet, the person who became High Chieftain through Holmgang was soon killed due to tyrannical rule.

As a result, Animers entered a period of chaos and instability.

This blending of civilization with the inherently barbaric aspects of beastkin culture had clearly hit its limits.

Luckily, thanks to the knowledge Isaac passed on to Leona, the chaos has somewhat subsided—but anxiety remains.

Even if the Holmgang, the founding ideal of Animers and a key part of beastkin culture, were reframed as a “festival,” there were still clear limits to the governing system itself.

Beastkin, who tend to follow the logic of power, needed to move away from monarchy to achieve more stable governance.

“So you’re saying this ‘democracy’ is what you’ve chosen?”

“That’s right.”

“Hmm…”

Vulcan Lions, a lion beastkin and Leona’s half-brother, stroked his chin after hearing what the hyena beastkin had said.

Meanwhile, the hyena beastkin, Jinai Krotchka—whose long snout and slanted eyes gave her a sly, cunning look—remained completely at ease.

On either side of her stood two male hyena beastkin who served as her attendants—and husbands, as per beastkin custom.

One fanned her while the other stood silently holding a tray of grapes.

The setting had a decadent air to it, but Jinai herself was diligently working through documents laid out on the table.

“You’ve sent word to each chieftain, just like I told you, right?”

As one of her husbands popped a grape into her mouth, she spoke nonchalantly.

Vulcan nodded and responded in his characteristic deep voice, “I did as you said. But I expect the noble clans to show the strongest resistance. Are you prepared for that?”

“I’ll handle it.”

Despite Vulcan’s concern, Jinai was as unbothered as ever—still not taking her eyes off her work, which was oddly admirable.

When she first became High Chieftain, there had been a massive backlash. And now she aimed to abolish the monarchy altogether.

Vulcan didn’t quite know why—but he had no choice but to trust her.

‘I hate to admit it…’

…but Jinai was competent. Despite her history of corruption, once she assumed the position of High Chieftain, she demonstrated incredible ability.

There were many who protested, but thanks to the protection of the Lions family, she managed to ascend.

And once she had power, she used it to its fullest—gradually stabilizing Animers during its turbulent period and systematically dismantling many entrenched vices.

She started by regulating the Holmgang, a tradition that had become incompatible with civilization, and then moved on to punishing the culture of might-makes-right.

Among her reforms, the most impactful was the regulation of violence—not just strength, but actual violence.

Beastkin are inherently aggressive and rough, tending to resolve problems with brute force.

That’s why they’re considered barbaric. But this is deeply tied to cultural tradition. Physically, beastkin are arguably the strongest of all races.

There’s an old saying: “If your brain is weak, your body will suffer. But if your body is strong, you won’t need to think too hard.”

Monsters? Even they know to avoid beastkin territory. And if they do intrude, they’re slaughtered without exception.

Architecture? While humans and dwarves needed pulleys due to their weaker bodies, beastkin just built things with raw strength.

Though they used pulleys for very tall structures, it wasn’t strictly necessary.

Because of their overwhelming physical abilities, beastkin culture had long neglected intellectual development.

‘In that sense, she really is a strange one,’ Vulcan thought.

Leona’s mixed blood made her perspective understandable, but Jinai was a true anomaly in his eyes.

During the chaotic times, she hoarded wealth like a sly opportunist—but now, as High Chieftain, she was actively advancing the nation.

Her regulation of the Holmgang was one thing, but restricting violence was nothing short of a masterstroke. It forced many beastkin to start using their heads.

That’s not to say beastkin used violence indiscriminately. There’s a saying:

“Civilized folk may be rude because their heads won’t get cracked open—but barbarians are polite precisely because they know their heads will.”

Beastkin were the same. As long as the other side didn’t act disrespectfully, they wouldn’t resort to violence.

Emphasis on as long as.

“Jeez. What age are we in that people still try to solve everything with brute strength? Be rational—act civilized,” Jinai muttered.

“…”

“And Isaac—that guy is seriously something. How does someone come up with ideas like this?”

Vulcan wholeheartedly agreed. When he, too, read Blood and Steel, he had been shocked.

Giving voting rights to everyone and selecting leaders through elections? It was an idea completely unthinkable for this era.

Yet it was exactly what Animers needed. The moment she read volume 4 of Blood and Steel, Jinai had instinctively understood its value.

“…Jinai.”

“What?”

“Do you really think this concept of democracy will take root in Animers?”

“It’ll be rough at first.”

Jinai answered Vulcan’s concern immediately, as if it didn’t even require thought. He gave her a puzzled look.

She’d gone so far as to declare it publicly in the press, and yet she sounded almost pessimistic.

He started to wonder if she was acting this way just to avoid the burdens of being High Chieftain.

But then she said something that changed his mind.

“Whatever happens, political systems can’t take root easily when first introduced.”

“You don’t even have to look far—just look at the Kingdom of Teres.”

“When the parliamentary system was introduced, the nobles and commoners fought tooth and nail, remember?”

“Then why push for it so suddenly?”

“Democracy isn’t even a fully understood concept yet.”

“Hmm… my little sweethearts?”

“This big sister is a bit busy right now, so could you step aside for a moment?”

Seemingly about to discuss something important, Jinai waved away the husbands who had been standing on either side of her.

Once the hyena beastmen had left, only Jinai and Vulcan remained in the chieftain’s room.

After confirming that no one else was around, Jinai rested her chin on her hands and spoke quietly.

“Do you really think the democracy born of blood and steel can be grafted onto our world just like that?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Then what is it you want exactly?”

“Just the election itself.”

“Even just implementing elections could fix most of this damned country’s problems.”

Perhaps it was because she hadn’t become the grand chieftain of her own free will.

Jinai referred to Animers as a “damned country.”

Though a leader should refrain from such language, Vulcan didn’t say anything.

Considering she said almost daily that she wanted to quit, this was something he could let slide.

It’s not like he was actually planning to remove her from the position.

“If our lion beastmen are by your side, you’d be safe enough—do you really need all this?”

Because the Lions family, himself included, had every intention of keeping her in power.

When Isaac first brought it up, Vulcan was skeptical.

But once Jinai became the grand chieftain, everything had gotten remarkably easier.

As descendants of the founding king Hik, the Lions family was always expected to be prepared to become excellent grand chieftains.

But ruling a country was far harder than leading a tribe.

While the Lions were fully capable of becoming “generals,” their aptitude as “kings” varied.

If the previous grand chieftain had possessed the qualities of a true king, they wouldn’t have been killed by Holmgang.

And after that assassination, even the Lions began to harbor doubts:

“If someone stronger than us appears, what then?”

“Should we follow tradition and just bow down?”

Animers had managed to hold itself together for 300 years, but this one incident shook its foundations.

If it weren’t for Isaac’s advice, and if Jinai hadn’t stabilized Animers with her so-called “conniving wisdom,” the country would’ve likely fractured.

Just like the Human Alliance, the predecessor to the Minerva Empire, became a single nation through war after war, Animers might have followed a similar path.

“You can guarantee my safety, sure.”

“But don’t you all also want to become grand chieftain yourselves?”

“Would you really be happy watching a hyena like me hold that position forever?”

“…”

“See?”

“That’s why I want to implement elections.”

“So anyone can have a chance to become grand chieftain.”

“Not the strongest by force, but the wisest.”

“Hmm…”

Maybe because she was originally a schemer, she made the system sound like it was full of benefits.

But Vulcan, having been trained to become grand chieftain, didn’t fall behind in wisdom, even though he hadn’t studied at an academy like Leona.

He gazed at Jinai and voiced his concerns.

“Do you really think others will accept this willingly?”

“I think the tiger tribe, especially, will be the most resistant.”

“I know.”

“They’ll hurl all kinds of insults at me.”

“Say that a hyena without a warrior’s soul is recklessly destroying tradition.”

“Totally expected.”

Jinai chuckled as if she had already anticipated this much.

Then she leaned back in the throne and spoke nonchalantly.

“Don’t worry about that part.”

“I’ll make sure they have no choice but to accept it.”

“Even the tigers will hesitate, since there’s precedent.”

“Precedent…?”

“What else?”

“The Grand Chieftain Holmgang incident.”

When she brought up what was perhaps the worst incident in Animers’ history since its founding, Vulcan’s expression soured.

For someone like Vulcan and the rest of the Lions, the Holmgang affair was a deep stain.

“The current system we have is too fragile—easy to collapse from rebellion.”

“The ruler is the pillar that holds up the nation, but ironically, also its biggest weakness.”

“But democracy still involves electing a king, right?”

At Vulcan’s comment, Jinai clicked her tongue. freewёbnoνel.com

It was a scolding for being too simplistic.

“Come on.”

“You can’t think of elections that simply.”

“Just look at the Weimar Republic born of blood and steel.”

“It wasn’t just the Nazi Party—multiple parties fought for power through politics.”

“I know that much.”

“And those parties survive by feeding on votes.”

“Giving everyone the right to vote is the same as giving everyone power.”

“By casting a vote for someone, you’re handing them that power, and the parties pull every trick to win it.”

“…Just hearing it sounds incredibly complicated.”

“Exactly.”

“And that’s what I want.”

Democracy is complex.

And that very complexity makes it stronger.

Count Kamar once said a king elected by 51% could still oppress the other 49%, but politics isn’t that simple.

“A king elected through a vote has legitimacy just from that.”

“If someone tries to challenge that legitimacy with a Holmgang?”

“They’re not just denying legitimacy—they’ll also have to face the consequences.”

“They’ll be making fools out of the voters, and do you think the battle-hungry beastmen will just sit back and let that slide?”

“Are you saying a rebellion could still happen?”

“It’s highly likely.”

“There might be bloodshed in the process.”

“It’s sad, but natural.”

It was bitter, but true.

Democracy often grows on the blood of tyrants and citizens.

It’s not something imposed by a class, but something citizens must earn for it to hold real meaning.

“That’s why we must avoid unanimous votes.”

“We’ll have to create laws even the grand chieftain can’t mess with.”

“You’ll have a lot of work ahead of you.”

“Me? No way.”

“I’ll step down five years after we adopt democracy.”

“Oh, I should probably run in one election though, just to make sure the system works properly.”

So that was her goal.

As Jinai revealed her true intentions, Vulcan stared at her with a chilled gaze.

But Jinai simply returned the stare with a smug look.

After all, she was still the grand chieftain—he couldn’t just confront her recklessly.

With a sigh and a shake of his head, Vulcan gave up.

“Do whatever you want.”

“You’ll have to deal with the aftermath anyway.”

“And I’m grateful for that.”

“But… is this really fair?”

“I’ve heard democracy in human society leads to another form of discrimination.”

“You mean how giving the same vote to a dragon-slaying warrior and an ordinary civilian is unfair?”

That’s one of the main criticisms of democracy in human society.

Jinai chuckled at the comment, then replied clearly.

“But it’s equal, isn’t it?”

“And think about it—are there more people who can slay dragons, or more ordinary civilians?”

“Heroes save the country, but it’s the people who sustain it.”

“The more opportunities the people have, the stronger the nation becomes.”

“…”

“Besides, any beastman can become a warrior, so it’s not like we’re far from equality.”

“How many canines have taken down tiger nobles?”

As Jinai pointed out, beastmen—unlike humans—were basically warriors by nature.

Physically, they were an overwhelmingly powerful species.

Even a rabbit beastman’s kick could break ribs.

You couldn’t underestimate them based on looks.

And though Jinai hadn’t realized it, that very trait made their society ripe for democracy.

The gun, famed for making all equal, had enabled democracy to flourish.

“So just protect me, alright—”

She was about to continue—

BOOM!

“Where’s that damn hyena?!”

The door burst open as the thunderous roar of a tiger filled the grand chieftain’s hall.

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