LIGHTNOVELONLINE Book 7: Chapter 4
Grantsrale. The Imperial Capital.
It had been some time after Falanya had arrived at Silas’s mansion.
She was in unfamiliar territory. She must have been placed under his protection so they could monitor her. The vibe was different from her home, Willeron Palace.
Under these circumstances…
“Hoooooow cyuuuute!”
…Falanya was loving every minute of it.
“Look, Nanaki! Look! Aww! She’s trying to walk! How precious!”
“…Uh-huh.” Nanaki seemed bored by watching his master hop in joy.
The reason for her excitement sat right in front of them.
“Bah.”
A human baby.
Not even a year old, the baby had a roly-poly body and a cloud of white hair. Her footsteps were unsteady. She was a walking bundle of joy.
“Over here, Elise.”
“Awoo.”
Elise was the baby’s name. Using the wall for support, she toddled across the floor to where Falanya sat waiting. Elise pressed her hands on the princess’s knees, stopping herself from tumbling over.
“Wow! You’re such a good girl, Elise!” Falanya gave Elise a big hug and rubbed their cheeks together with enough force to fuse them.
Falanya had fallen head over heels for the girl ever since she came to the mansion.
“You seem fond of Elise.” A Flahm woman smiled as she watched the two.
Her name was Mirabelle—wife of Silas, who was the master of the house, and Elise’s mother.
“Elise adores you just as much, Your Highness. As her mother, I’m delighted.”
“Tee-hee. You really think so?”
“She’s just flattering you, Falanya,” Nanaki said.
Falanya went to give Nanaki next to her a good kick in the leg. He avoided it soundlessly.
“Hmph, you don’t know what you’re talking about, Nanaki. Elise and I are two peas in a pod.” She smiled at the baby. Elise had on a puzzled look but replied by tracing her small hand along Falanya’s face.
Suddenly, the baby frowned in the princess’s arms.
“Wah…”
“What’s wrong? …Oh, there’s a weird smell.”
Nanaki knew what the problem was. “She defecated.”
“Defe… Wah!” Falanya jolted back—obviously careful not to drop Elise.
“Your Highness, I will take her.” Mirabelle held out her arms with a giggle, and Falanya handed the baby over. With practiced hands, she undressed Elise and changed her diaper.
Falanya seemed to admire her dexterity. “Doesn’t Elise have a wet nurse?”
“No. I’m responsible for her care.”
Oh, Falanya thought with surprise. She was used to aristocrats who bragged about outsourcing their daily tasks as their natural-born right. It explained why many of them had wet nurses care for their babies.
Of course, there were aristocrats in rural areas who didn’t have the same standards and those too poor to hire someone. But Mirabelle was a noble wife who resided in the Imperial Capital. If she was raising a child herself…
“I imagine you want to raise your child in your own way,” Falanya concluded.
Mirabelle gave a small smile, which was unexpected.
“Hmm? Was I wrong?”
“No, pardon me. Your Highness’s words have told me how the Flahm are treated in Natra.”
Falanya cocked her head to the side.
Mirabelle continued, “In the Empire, the Flahm are treated the same as every other race, but there are people who discriminate against us, though they say nothing about it. To be frank, very few people are willing to care for Flahm infants.”
Falanya gasped. Now that she thought back on it, the staff in this mansion was surprisingly small for its size. Perhaps most balked at the idea of serving a Flahm.
“We’re Flahm aristocrats, which means we’re targets of jealousy and misguided hatred. I hesitate to trust Elise with someone under our employ, knowing they might feel the same way.”
Mirabelle smiled for a moment as she rocked Elise.
“Grr…I see. The Empire hasn’t completely changed.”
Falanya pursed her lips. The Earthworld Empire was considered one of the most developed nations on the continent. She had been looking forward to her visit, and many things in the Imperial Capital were new to her, which made her even more upset that the material circumstances for this baby were less than what could be provided in Natra.
“Compared to the West, I can see that the Empire is more progressive. I heard the situation has improved slightly, but I’ve learned the Flahm have shaved their children’s heads and gouged out their eyes to protect them from discrimination…”
Without their characteristic white hair and red eyes, the Flahm would look no different from others. But the children and parents must have shed many tears to achieve that end.
Falanya knew of similar stories, but hearing them directly from a Flahm broke her heart.
Mirabelle tried to raise her spirits. “Oh, we have no intention of doing that to our child. With strong hearts, we live as Flahm in the Empire.” She stroked Elise’s hair with a wry smile. “It’s good that her hair is white. I don’t know what I would have done if it were red.”
“Red?”
“Do you not know about the famous legend passed down among the Flahm?”
It was the first Falanya had heard of it.
When she flashed Nanaki a questioning look, he nodded. “Once every hundred years, a Flahm is born with flaming red hair, marking a hundred years of prosperity for its people…or so the legend goes.”
“In the ancient language, ‘Flahm’ means ‘glow’ or ‘glowing person.’ It’s said these leaders with red hair were given the honorary title of ‘Flahm,’ and as time passed, our entire race inherited the name.”
“Wow…I didn’t know there was such a legend.” Falanya nodded with admiration.
Mirabelle continued, “They say it was a red-haired Flahm who built a prosperous kingdom for our people in the West. Many still believe that time will come again. If this child had been born with red hair, the Flahm would deify and expect too much from her.”
“A kingdom of Flahm…?” Another tidbit that was news to Falanya.
Just as she was about to release a stream of questions…
“The master has returned.”
Falanya and Mirabelle looked at the staff member who had spoken from the entrance of the room. Silas was there.
“Welcome back, dear.” Mirabelle smiled with Elise in her arms.
Silas approached her and stroked Elise’s cheek with his finger. “Anything happen while I was away?”
“Not at all. Her Highness and I have been playing with the baby.”
He nodded and turned toward Falanya. “I apologize for making you entertain my child, Your Highness. You’re supposed to be our guest.”
“Please. I’ve been enjoying myself. This is so new to me, too. Besides, I appreciate all the interesting things Mirabelle has been teaching me.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Silas said, smiling.
“Are you finished for the day?” Mirabelle asked.
He shook his head. “No, I must go to the palace for a short while. There seems to be something going down in Nalthia.”
Falanya twitched.
News was traveling through the Empire that Demetrio had lost in his fight against Bardloche… It had reached Falanya’s ears, of course. People were speculating that Demetrio had somehow escaped, but there was still no information on the safety of Wein, who was with him.
“…Falanya.”
“I’m okay, Nanaki. Wein won’t die.”
Falanya turned to Nanaki and smiled. “By the way, Sir Silas, did anything become of the two things we discussed earlier?”
“You will be pleased to hear one item of business is going smoothly. The several people that Your Highness wishes to meet are awaiting you at the Imperial Palace. If you would like, I can accompany you there shortly.”
“Thank you, Sir Silas. Well, I suppose I shall hurry and get ready.”
She was worried about her brother, but her gut told her he was safe. Moreover, Falanya knew she had more to think about than Wein’s welfare at the moment.
I’ll fulfill my duty. I know you will, too, Wein.
Falanya took action, knowing her prayers would reach her brother.
Lowellmina had been incredibly busy since the Imperial princes’ armies began to move.
After all, Lowellmina didn’t have many forces to mobilize. She was the leader of the patriots, a group of those concerned about the future of their nation. They might have agreed with her desire for a peaceful end to things, but they weren’t trying to put her on the throne.
She might have been absorbing information about each area through any possible means, but Lowellmina didn’t have nearly enough assistance to help her attain detailed reports. Even just keeping up with the princes’ situations had worked them to the bone.
“So where is Demetrio now?” Lowellmina asked.
Fyshe riffled through her mountain of paperwork for the appropriate document. “Right. He’s retreated to the city of Bellida, currently regrouping his remaining forces.”
“…I wonder how many soldiers will return with him.”
History proved that the losers of any battle were met with disaster.
It was easy to talk about making a comeback, but accomplishing it was a different matter.
“It seems he currently has around three thousand soldiers gathered in the city. If he can salvage five thousand, that would be remarkable. I imagine quite a few have lost their lives.”
“So of his fifteen thousand, ten thousand were either killed or fled the battlefield.”
A staggering number. This was on top of the casualties in Bardloche’s army, too. Just imagining the battlefield was nauseating.
“Prince Bardloche is currently reorganizing his forces. Prince Manfred has nearly assembled enough of his own soldiers, but we aren’t sure how he might act next.”
“And Wein?”
“We don’t know much about him. There has been no report of his death, so I presume he is still with Prince Demetrio, but…”
“Hmm,” Lowellmina said, seeming uneasy.
Bardloche had won the fight against Demetrio. So the problem was whatever happened next. How would each of the remaining forces make their move?
“There is one more matter to discuss. It’s about Falanya’s odd behaviors.”
“What’s been so odd?”
“Through Sir Silas, we know she has been making plans to meet with high-level officials and top business leaders in the Imperial Capital.”
“Well, she’s finally in the capital. Of course she would use this chance to make personal connections. —However…”
If this were any other princess, she wouldn’t have thought twice about it. But this was Falanya. Lowellmina knew through experience that she couldn’t underestimate her.
“Princess Falanya’s voice has the lilt of a devil.”
Voices meant everything for politicians. One that was easy on the ear and traveled far could elevate a speech. Wein and Lowellmina’s voices fell into that category; Wein could muster up his soldiers’ morale, and Lowellmina make all forget their fears.
Falanya was on a whole different level, however. Back in Mealtars, she had spurred three thousand citizens into action with her words alone. Neither Wein nor Lowellmina could have pulled off such a feat. Soldiers, maybe, but not average citizens as Falanya had done. They couldn’t fight and didn’t possess the will to walk forward. But she did it. It was a miracle.
Falanya was a wild card meant to get me to take a gamble. I thought her role ended there, but does she have other motives…?
Could Falanya do in the capital what she did in Mealtars?
Lowellmina felt chances were slim. Though her voice had been hypnotizing, a number of factors had contributed to the events in Mealtars. That said, she couldn’t let her guard down.
“Fyshe, do we have anyone free at the moment?”
“We do not. But I can work something out if need be.”
“In that case, tighten the surveillance around Princess Falanya. At the very least, find out who she meets.”
“Understood.”
Lowellmina was burning through her cards. It was nice to have some cushion for an emergency, but it wasn’t feasible in their current situation.
Was Wein the one tying up her hands? He had to be.
That jerk, Lowellmina thought, mentally slapping him.
“—Pardon me!” A messenger flew into the room.
“What is it?” Lowellmina asked, having a bad feeling about this. A bead of sweat trickled down her face.
“Prince Bardloche is preparing to hold the baptism in Nalthia!”
She sensed the imaginary Wein that she had been slapping around flash a grin.
Something strange was going on inside Nalthia. Glen realized this soon after the battle with Demetrio’s army.
First of all, the citizens of Nalthia had been against Bardloche’s army occupying the city. He had charged into sacred land, intent on interrupting their time-honored ceremony. Of course they weren’t happy.
Now that Demetrio had lost, the baptism was obviously postponed. Glen had assumed this would put the citizens in an even worse mood.
So how can I explain this?
From what Glen could tell as he patrolled the city, the people were in a strangely festive mood. He initially thought Bardloche’s supporters in Nalthia were celebrating his victory, but it seemed cheer had spread across the entire city.
Well, we’ll be withdrawing from the city as soon as we’ve cleaned up after the war. Are they that overjoyed to be free of us soon? But… Glen contemplated in the guardroom.
A subordinate came rushing in. “Captain Glen, I’ve just returned!”
The man was a native from Nalthia. Glen had ordered him to search his hometown for answers to this inexplicable situation.
“So did you find out anything?”
The subordinate’s report was far from expected. “Well…I can’t pinpoint the exact source, but rumors have it that Prince Bardloche will undergo the baptism.”
“What did you say?” Glen asked, scowling involuntarily. “What are you talking about? Don’t we have plans to withdraw soon?”
“Yes, but for some reason, this has been spreading among the citizens…causing their restlessness.”
“………”
The ceremonial baptism was extremely important to the people of Nalthia. They didn’t care who underwent it. Now that the eldest prince had been fended off, they must have thought Bardloche would be a far more suitable Emperor.
If that’s what’s going on… Sweat ran down Glen’s spine. He didn’t have a good feeling about this and stood up. “Do you know the source of the rumors?”
“There are several reports of people seeing unfamiliar faces when they heard the rumors. I don’t know if that’s related.”
“Where were they spotted?” Glen spread out a map on a nearby table.
“Here and here…so mostly around the northern district.”
“…That’s by the lake.”
Veijyu Lake was in Nalthia. The northern district was adjacent to the lake and transported a great deal of water. These waterways were the lifeline of Nalthia. Any kind of military activity would not be received well, which was why it had been given free rein despite Bardloche’s army occupying that area.
“Summon all hands. We’re heading to the north. I’ll go ahead and scope the area out.”
“Please wait. The citizens will be enraged if we step in without reason, especially if you go by yourself, Captain.”
“We’re up against time. Hurry!”
“…Agh, fine! Please don’t do anything reckless before everyone has assembled!”
The unit member scrambled out of the guardroom. Glen put on his cloak, hung his sword at his side, and headed outside.
The northern part of the city was as lively as ever when Glen arrived.
It thrived off aquatic life caught in Veijyu Lake and served as a trading hub for other cities adjacent to the lake. Transporting goods over water was easier than on land, since it was all flat and used wind power to move packed ships.
The problem is that we haven’t been too diligent when patrolling the area, so we can avoid obstructing free trade.
Veijyu Lake was crucial to the Empire; they would never allow bandits to run rampant, but the reality was that a few unsavory types managed to sneak in.
“Pardon me. Have you seen any suspicious or unfamiliar persons in this area?” Glen asked the owner of a fruit stall. He didn’t know much about Nalthia. Sniffing around for clues was going to be his best bet.
“Other than the one right in front of me?” The man shrugged.
Glen took a piece of fruit and handed over a silver coin. “Besides myself and other military personnel.”
“Who knows? There’s always people coming and going from these boats.”
“Well, have you heard anything about Prince Bardloche undergoing the baptism?”
“Ah. Yeah, I heard. I’m pretty sure I heard the sailors by the docks talking about it.”
“At the dock, huh… Well, excuse me.”
“No problem. Hey, take another one for the road.” The owner suggested he buy by the carton next time.
The captain took his fruit and headed farther north of the city. After walking for some time, he arrived at the docks. There, he found sailors lugging cargo, merchants inspecting wares, and people fishing. Glen scanned the area and made his way toward a group of sailors doing nothing in particular.
“Excuse me. I’d like to ask you a few questions.”
“Excuse you?” The sailors glared at Glen. “Hey, we got an army man. This isn’t a place for someone like yerself. Go on home.”
“I promise I’ll leave as soon as you answer my questions.”
“Tch. You’re starting to get annoying, dude.”
Glen refused to back down. The air was starting to get heavy. One of the sailors eyed the fruit in Glen’s hands.
“We’ll tell you anything if you can show us a trick with that piece of fruit.”
“…With this?”
“Yeah. Or is that too hard for a military man who can only swing his sword?”
The men barked with laughter. Glen didn’t react, looking between the fruit in his hands and the men before smiling.
“—Well then, don’t take your eyes off me.”
“Huh?”
Glen chucked the fruit in the air.
As soon as the sailors looked up, he launched himself off the ground. He drove the heel of his palm into the stomach of one defenseless sailor and simultaneously struck the chin and legs of another. Noticing something was off, the last sailor reacted, just as Glen closed in on him, wrapping around his arm and slamming him into the ground.
“Ow…?!”
“What the hell is your problem?!”
“H-he’s a monster…!”
The sailors were on the ground in a second. As he stared down at them, Glen caught the fruit that fell from the sky.
“I told you not to take your eyes off me.”
“Y-you little…! Don’t screw with—gah?!”
Just as one of them tried to lash out at him, Glen stuffed the fruit in his mouth.
“I don’t have much time. We can continue this later, but just know I might break a bone or two next time.” There was something fierce in Glen’s expression.
The sailors had to be less experienced than him, and they knew it. The men gulped and admitted defeat.
“O-okay, we’re sorry. Please just show us some mercy…!”
“Of course. As I said before, I just need you to answer a few questions.”
“Wh-what is it? We haven’t done anything to warrant suspicion from army men.”
“That isn’t it. Have you heard about Prince Bardloche undergoing the ceremony?”
The sailors all looked at one another.
“Did you know about it?”
“Nope. I got no interest in the Emperor or whatsoever.”
“I heard. It’s that whole thing about Prince Bardloche becoming Emperor now that Prince Demetrio got his ass beat.”
Glen looked at the man who said this. “Where did you hear that?”
“I-I couldn’t tell ya. I guess I heard it from somebody on some ship…”
“Do you know where they are now?”
The sailor shook his head. “A crazy number of ships pass through here every day. I can’t remember who got on what boat.”
“……” Glen thought for a minute.
The rumors must have started from this dock, but I need time to investigate who traveled through this place. If only I had some sort of clue…
He was never a bright one. If he had his friends from the military academy with him, they’d come up with an idea and plan their next move in no time, but his friends weren’t with him at the moment. Gone were the days when he could just tag along with their ideas.
“Hey, you’re looking for a suspicious character, right?” one of the sailors suddenly asked, seeming timid.
“Well, yeah.”
“In that case, you might find somethin’ if you check out the food warehouse district across the way.” The sailor indicated a stretch of land with several storehouses near the docks. It was where incoming and outgoing cargo were temporarily placed.
“All of us are short-staffed because of the draft. It’s not hard to find empty warehouses these days. But I’ve seen people wandering around in the middle of the night lately.”
“……”
If there was a criminal spreading rumors, they would want to carry out their work discreetly. The docks had plenty of escape routes, making them an ideal spot. It made sense for them to secure a hideout next to it.
“That was a solid lead. I appreciate it.”
After tossing the sailors a silver coin, Glen headed for the warehouses.
It was still high noon, so there was some traffic in the warehouse district, which hosted a cluster of buildings big and small. Glen glanced around for any suspicious characters, but none were to be found so easily. It was Glen’s first time here, so everyone was unfamiliar to him.
Should I check each warehouse…?
Waiting for his subordinates to arrive was his best option.
Just then, he caught something in the corner of his eye.
“That was…” His legs moved on their own, carrying him farther into the warehouse district as if it were luring him there.
It can’t be, he thought. The human shadow he’d seen was familiar, but he knew this person couldn’t have possibly been there.
He finally arrived at a desolate warehouse. No one was around, but when he looked at the ground, there was definitive proof that people had been there recently.
“—Hah!” He immediately unsheathed his sword and slashed at the wooden door. After kicking it down, he stepped inside.
It smelled like mold and dust. There wasn’t a single lit torch in the warehouse, and only the light pouring in from the entrance illuminated his surroundings. After his eyes adjusted to the darkness, a figure standing inside was revealed to him.
“I knew it. So it was you…”
Glen didn’t seem perturbed. In fact, it looked like he understood now.
“I see what’s going on. This was all his plan. —Isn’t that right, Ninym?”
Her white hair fluttered in the darkness, red eyes gleaming. It was Ninym Ralei.
“I guess I can’t feign ignorance and ask what you’re talking about.”
Like Glen, Ninym remained unfazed. She faced him as if it were perfectly normal for her old friend to suddenly step inside the warehouse.
“You could try and see if it works.” Glen had a nostalgic look in his eye, smiling.
They had spent their days together at the same military academy. Ninym would beg him to help her stop Wein from running wild. Glen would come to her for advice on picking a gift for his fianc e. Between them was a bond that would never change…
“Either way, I’ll capture you,” he said.
They pointed their blades at each other as if that was normal.
“And what would my charges be?”
“I’ll decide once I catch you.”
“Seems unfair.”
He could detect no anger or sadness in her voice. After all, they didn’t think being enemies and friends was mutually exclusive. Because they were friends, they knew what the other was capable of doing.
“—Hah!” Glen made the first move.
His blade flashed in the darkness, straight as an arrow. Ninym dodged with incredible agility and immediately returned this with throwing knives.
Glen shot down each one with ease. “Did you sneak in during the battle with Demetrio?”
“It was your fault for neglecting to guard the dock out of respect for the people of Nalthia.” Ninym melted into the darkness. Her white hair and red eyes disappeared. “Because of you, I could slip inside here during the battle.”
“Using fifteen thousand soldiers as a decoy, huh? Old habits die hard for that guy, huh!”
Glen swung his blade in the direction of her voice, striking empty warehouse boxes, which scattered into the air. Undoing her disappearing act, Ninym sprung from the darkness and closed in on Glen. Sparks sprayed. Glen’s sword stopped Ninym’s dagger. They didn’t engage in locked combat. Instead, Ninym quickly leaped back to put distance between them.
“After sneaking into Nalthia, you spread rumors about Bardloche undergoing the ceremonial baptism and pushed your ideas by weaponizing what was important to the citizens.”
“It wasn’t very difficult. Every Imperial citizen is hoping to have an Emperor soon.”
“—But I made it just in the nick of time.”
Glen’s presence seemed to grow bigger, an intimidating air about him. His sword was at the ready, and there wasn’t a single point of weakness to be found from the tip of his blade to the soles of his feet. He was starting to get serious. He had the pride of an army man who refused to back down from a certain rival during his days at the academy.
“Surrender. If you confess to my master, I promise you’ll be treated well—on my name.”
Ninym shook her head. “Do you think I would do such a thing?”
“Then let me ask a question: Do you think you can beat me with that blade?”
“Warmer. You almost got it.” Ninym broke into a smile. “Why do you think I’m challenging you to a swordfight that I have no chance of winning?”
“ ” An instant later, he heard a strange noise from behind him.
Glen knew without even looking that something had blocked the entrance that he’d recently kicked in. His adversary vaulted into the air. He quickly tried to cut her down with his sword, but he was too late. When he looked up to follow her, he saw people balanced on the beams of the warehouse. They had pulled Ninym up with the black rope in their hands.
His eyes scanned the room, looking for a way to chase after them. This time, however, a strange noise boomed from the building itself.
“This is…?!”
“Isn’t it normal to prepare a way to eliminate your pursuers or two? Well, I never imagined I’d be using them on you.”
“You’re a real piece of work…!”
The walls and ceiling of the storehouse began to crumble. Ninym swiftly escaped through the emergency hatch in the ceiling that had been prepared ahead of time.
“Until we meet again, Glen.”
A moment later, the storehouse came crashing down on him.
Ninym glanced at the pile of rubble that used to be a building, then she followed behind her other companions and ran through the shadows of the warehouse district.
“Lady Ninym, what shall we do next?”
“We’ll escape before we’re followed,” Ninym replied frankly. “They’ll know about us soon enough. We don’t have a moment to lose.”
“Won’t it take them some time? I mean, the man is dead.”
“He won’t die that easy,” Ninym said, briefly looking behind her at the now-distant warehouse. She was certain her friend was still alive, even though he was trapped in the rubble. “Either way, our job here is done. Glen might have talked big, but they won’t make it here on time. So all that’s left is heading back.”
“Understood.”
They traveled from shadow to shadow, soundlessly leaving Nalthia behind.
“…Hey. What’s going on here?”
The sailors who had just fought Glen were dumbfounded by the scene. They had followed Glen out of sheer interest, but all that awaited them was a demolished storehouse.
“This place was pretty run-down. Did it fall apart from old age?”
“Maybe… Hey, you don’t think that guy from earlier is under here, do you?”
“He couldn’t be…”
The sailors looked at one another and gingerly called out. “H-hey! Someone there?!”
No response. Maybe they were worrying over nothing. Or maybe he was already dead beneath the rubble. Either way, the wreckage would have to be cleared.
“Guess we got no choice. We better call people over and get this mess cleaned up.”
“Right… Wait, hold on a sec. Over there.”
All eyes zeroed in on the spot where one sailor pointed. The mountain of debris began to move.
No way.
Emerging was a mound several times heavier than the average person.
“You can’t be serious.”
“Damn. Is he really human…?”
As the sailors stood in shock, Glen pushed scraps of beam and ceiling out of the way.
“…Phew. She got me.” Glen tossed the chunks to the side, shook the dust from his cloak, and looked off into the distance. “If I follow them now…I won’t catch up to them.”
Failing to capture the criminals was a major blunder. He hadn’t planned on going easy on his friend, but his insistence on capturing her alive might have dulled his sword.
“H-hey, you.”
“Hm? Oh, you’re the guys from before,” Glen replied, noticing them only after they’d called out. “Sorry. I’ll reimburse the warehouse owner later, promise.”
“S-sure…”
“Well, it’s really not like we could hold you, even if we wanted to…”
To the sailors, Glen was more iron than man. They had no desire to lay a hand on him for a bounty.
“Captain!” One of Glen’s subordinates appeared from a narrow alley of the warehouse district. “Captain, what are you doing?! And what’s all this?!”
He went bug-eyed at the sight of the collapsed warehouse. Glen picked up the sword by his feet and spoke as he sheathed it.
“No time to explain. Let’s save that for later and hurry back to headquarters. There is something I must tell Prince Bardloche.”
The subordinate seemed to gulp. “P-please wait! I’m here to tell you there’s trouble at our headquarters!”
“What? What happened?”
“Well—”
As soon as Glen heard the man’s answer, he raced back to their base.
Bardloche’s army was currently using a building in Nalthia as its headquarters. The prince and his top officials had been locked in the meeting room all night and day, investigating and deciding on their next plan—
Someone barked in the room. “You’re kidding! Are you serious?!”
The voice, now hoarse with fury, came from Prince Bardloche himself. His leaders sat in a row before him. Though their master was furious, their expressions were resolute, ready for battle.
“I would never say that on a whim or to save face. Understand that this was a unanimous decision. Let me say it again: Your Highness, please take this opportunity to go through with the baptism.”
“………!” Bardloche’s face instantly twisted. “Have you forgotten that we’ve taken this city for justice?! We needed to put an end to Demetrio’s tyrannical ideas! Touting justice and chasing out Demetrio, only to do the same thing, will make me a joke for generations.”
“No one is laughing. You must know, Your Highness, the people wish for a new Emperor as soon as possible. With this sweeping victory, they are now certain that you, Prince Bardloche, are the most suitable for the role, and they are hoping for your quick ascension. Betraying them and returning to our own territory will turn us into laughingstocks!”
They weren’t backing down, even when Bardloche scolded them. Far from it, in fact. Bardloche didn’t have control over them.
“…What about Manfred? We collaborated under the condition that I return to my own domain after putting a stop to Demetrio. If I betray him, he won’t stay silent.”
“It’s just what we need. If you defeat Prince Demetrio and Prince Manfred, there would be no greater proof that you’re qualified to become Emperor.”
Bardloche tried his best to put an end to this discussion. Both sides were snapping at each other. Tensions were mounting…until Lorencio rapped on the table and got their attention, ending his silence.
“Let’s take a short recess. You’re losing your composure.”
“Sir Lorencio, this is a grave matter. We have no time to waste!”
“Precisely why we must clear our heads. If we could place Prince Bardloche on the throne through wishful thinking, it would have happened ages ago.”
Lorencio was an earl and the most senior member among them. Other leaders went silent, though reluctantly.
“…All right. We’ll take a short break. Collect your thoughts,” Bardloche said.
The meeting went into a short recess.
Glen headed straight for Lorencio’s room upon his arrival.
“Ah, Glen. I’m busy at the moment. Let’s save this for later.”
Lorencio seemed to be in the middle of something, but Glen was persistent.
“My apologies, but this concerns the baptism. I’m afraid I must speak with you immediately.”
“Oh, so you already know. I take it you heard the rumors during your patrol?” Lorencio asked, urging Glen to take a seat. “So what news do you bring?”
“The people of Nalthia want the prince to go through with the baptism, but I have proof that this is all part of Prince Demetrio’s plan… No, that it’s Prince Wein’s plan.”
Glen recounted how he had gone to the north to pinpoint the source of the rumors, come across covert operatives in the warehouse, and engaged in battle, but failed to capture them.
Lorencio thought for a moment before speaking. “…Glen, does anyone else know about this besides you and me?”
“No.”
Lorencio nodded. “In that case, speak of this matter to no one. Act as if it never happened.”
“What?” Glen blinked. “P-please wait. I’ll accept whatever punishment awaits me for allowing the perpetrators to escape. But at this rate…”
“Prince Bardloche will complete the ceremonial baptism. Isn’t that wonderful?” Lorencio asked with a savage smile that made him seem younger than his age. “Prince Bardloche might be troubled now, but he’ll soon come to realize he shouldn’t let this opportunity pass. I suppose I must be grateful to Prince Wein. He has saved us time persuading the people.”
“Sir! The enemy must have let this happen, because they have a way to win! We’re jumping into their trap!”
“If it’s a trap, we can chew through it,” Lorencio reasoned. “Don’t you get it? The Empire needs a ruler. What would happen if we allowed this opportunity to pass us by? It’ll trigger a political battle with the youngest prince, and we’ll continue to waste time.”
Lorencio had a point.
If pressed for an answer, Glen knew it was now or never. He would have gone along with it if he hadn’t known that this was orchestrated by a certain someone.
However, Glen was familiar with the people in question. Ninym and Wein were arranging all of this behind the scenes.
“Sir, we should tell Prince Bardloche at the very least…!”
“No. You’re dismissed.”
His pleas were in vain. There wasn’t anything he could do. Glen left the room, face clouded over, all while sensing a new battle would soon be upon them.
“Basically, it’s not just the citizens who are getting impatient,” Wein said in a room in Bellida. “For the common Imperial subject, it’s obvious that the most sensible way to resolve this matter is through discussion, but they’ll only rally around that if they can see the light at the end of the tunnel. Without progress, their patience will expire, and they’ll want more extreme measures to get the job done. This goes for citizens and factions.”
Demetrio was the only other one in the room. Wein would have never imagined they’d be facing each other across a desk when they joined teams.
Wein continued, “That’s not all. The factions aren’t just serving leaders out of loyalty alone. They’re thinking about future honor, concessions, rewards, bestowed by the chosen Emperor. Their patience is fading, as they wait two years with nothing to show for their effort.”
“…I know what you’re getting at,” Prince Demetrio responded, nodding with a pained expression. “One of the reasons I set out to become Emperor was because I was starting to lose control over them.”
“Right? I imagine you’re not the only one. Not many people would see an opportunity for victory and not jump at it. But their ability to reason with their subordinates is waning. All because they won this big battle against your army.”
“…Don’t get too cocky.”
“My bad.” Wein shrugged.
Demetrio glared at Wein for a moment but decided to continue despite his obvious displeasure.
“Will Bardloche go along with this?”
“Prince Bardloche’s and Prince Manfred’s factions are in competition. Even if one of them wins, they will take a big blow. I imagine Prince Bardloche was hoping to absorb your faction, bolster his influence, and overwhelm Prince Manfred in the next battle.”
Wein continued, “However, the people are pressuring him to rise to the throne, and even his subordinates agree with them. His faction is made up of mostly army men. Since he rules over guys who are violent for a living, Bardloche will lose his popularity and respect if he shows weakness. —He’ll take the plunge. No question about it.”
“…And if he does that, Manfred won’t be able to just sit back and watch. He’ll have no choice but to lead his forces into battle.”
“And while the two are biting at each other’s heels, we’ll make off with the gains.”
“Ngh…” Demetrio groaned.
Wein was playing a single card: cementing the desire of the people in Nalthia. And that had given Demetrio a chance at winning. How terrifying the foreign prince’s foresight was.
“So I’d like to command the next battle,” Wein said.
In all other circumstances, the mere act of a foreign prince requesting to control his forces would be a declaration of war. Demetrio had known this man was poison and kept his distance. Wein was lethal.
So was he going to drink the poison or not?
“…Can you win?”
“I have my methods. It’s all about using a little creativity.”
Demetrio closed his eyes for a moment before answering in a strained voice. “……Give me time to think about it.”
Demetrio would wait until the last minute to decide, but Wein didn’t press him further, almost as if he was certain that Demetrio would eventually drink the poison without prompting.
“I can wait. It gives me time to enjoy a nice glass of wine before the battle breaks out between the younger two princes.”
Wein grinned and raised the glass in his hand.
“…He got me,” Prince Manfred murmured, looking at a map. “Now, I have to fight Bardloche.”
He’d received word that the middle prince was planning on going through with the baptism.
“That brother of mine is too stupid for his own good. I don’t imagine he became greedy overnight to get the jump on me. He obviously lost control of his faction and was pushed into it.”
Manfred continued, “It was Prince Wein who triggered them to do that. —Right, Strang?”
“No doubt.” Next to him, Strang nodded respectfully. “Of course, they’re far away, so we can’t get any conclusive proof. But it hasn’t even been that long since Prince Demetrio was defeated, and we’ve suddenly found ourselves going up against Bardloche. He’s in the perfect spot to sweep in and steal the spoils. Very on brand for Prince Wein.”
“It seems a little slipshod and forced to me…but you know him better. If that’s what you say, I’ll take your word.”
Manfred knew Strang had been friends with Wein, Glen, and Lowellmina back in military school. The Imperial prince initially suspected that Strang was colluding with outside forces, but the man was more attached to his hometown than his friends. Manfred was certain that he would not betray him, as long as Strang’s birthplace saw some kind of gain.
“Our next steps are crucial… So can we win?”
“Yes,” Strang replied without missing a beat. “Bardloche’s army is composed of military personnel, making it quite powerful. This means pretty much everything else is their weakness. Now that they’re exhausted from their fight against Demetrio, I think we have a solid shot at winning.”
This wasn’t his ego speaking. Back in school, Wein always had the best grades in his class, but Glen had pulled ahead in military arts and Strang in tactics. This was why Manfred had made him his right-hand man.
“Hmm… In that case, what should we be concerned about?”
“Demetrio’s army. More specially, Wein. We must prevent them from striking us from the side as we’re locked in a fight with Bardloche. This is critical.”
Manfred nodded. Because he’d let them off the leash, he now had to face Bardloche’s army. He knew they had to do something. In fact, he was painfully aware of the fact.
“…Strang, the time has come to enact the plan that you suggested we prepare.”
“Yes. Prince Demetrio’s faction has suffered significant damage, so we’re likely to achieve optimal results… I would have not liked to ever use it, since I’m technically an Imperial subject, though I’m from the provinces.”
“It’s a sacrifice made in the name of victory. Move forward with our plans.”
“Understood.” Strang bowed.
Demetrio versus Bardloche.
That fight had gone to Bardloche.
…Except it had failed to settle anything and only invited further chaos.