A Certain Pilot's Promise, Vol. 8

A Certain Pilot's Promise, by Koroku Inumura

Illustrations by Haruyuki Morisawa

Illustrations

World State

The Miracle of Pleiades (Continued)

Part 10 (Part 1 of Volume 8)

"It looks like Isla," the young man said, facing the wind.

Kiyoaki Sakagami silently watched the young man’s figure from behind. His neat nape was fluttering in the wind at the edge of the flying island.

Isla had already disappeared. But he had never forgotten.

"I saw the edge of the sky."

The young man’s profile slightly turned toward Kiyoaki. His well-shaped nose bridge, the long scar cutting across his cheek, and his deep blue eyes, like the summer sky burned into them. Something within the young man conveyed itself, and a ripple brushed across the depths of Kiyoaki's chest.

"The edge of the sky..."

Kiyoaki tried placing those unreal words into the wind. The fairy tale-like sound was drowned out by the high-pitched whistle of the wind and carried away beyond the horizon of the aerial fortress Odin’s surface.

Both the St Vault Empire and the Akitsu Federation had myths about the “edge of the sky.” Beyond the great waterfalls, where the sea falls like an avalanche of snow, there is a place where the sky ends. Yet, countless exploration fleets had set sail to find the “edge of the sky,” half of them fleeing back midway, while the other half never returned.

No one had ever seen it—the scene of a mythical world.

The young man claimed to have seen it.

"Surely, you too will see it someday. Once this war ends, I think people all over the world will come to recognize the existence of the edge of the sky."

Kiyoaki silently stared at the young man’s back. There were too many things he wanted to ask, and he hesitated on where to begin.

The year 1351 of the Imperial Calendar, July, off the coast of Santos Island, the aerial fortress Odin---

Three weeks had passed since the battle, which was named the Second Battle of Sierra Greed.

The hopeless fight, abandoned even by the allied forces of the St Vault Empire, resulted in a miraculous victory for the Kingdom of Sylvania, thanks to the foreign reinforcements of the Second Isla Fleet. Even Kiyoaki hadn’t been informed, but six months prior, Queen Elisabeth of the Kingdom of Sylvania had secretly contacted Admiral Luis de Alarcon of the Isla Fleet, offering a place to dock. The Queen had concealed the existence of the Isla Fleet from the St Vault Empire and, at the critical moment, played her trump card, securing an allied fleet of comparable size to the Urano fleet.

Of course, this was a risky move.

There are countless cases in history where a powerful allied force stronger than one’s own army drove out the enemy, only to later seize power within the country. The Isla Fleet, far superior to the Kingdom of Sylvania’s army, could become a more dangerous entity than Urano after the battle ended. If Admiral Luis decided to slaughter Queen Elisabeth and her close advisors and take the throne for himself, no one could stop him.

In other words, the greatest threat to the Kingdom of Sylvania right now wasn’t Urano or the St Vault Empire, but the Isla Fleet. While Queen Elisabeth’s gamble had driven off Urano’s invasion, it had also introduced a new threat—an uncertain ally or enemy—into the kingdom. Such was the precarious state of the young Kingdom of Sylvania.

This doubt also lingered within Kiyoaki.

"Can I trust you?"

Kiyoaki silently asked this unspoken question to the young man’s back.

"Kal-el Albus..."

With a face that blended intensity and grace, and deep blue eyes filled with sorrow and kindness, Kal-el stood with the presence of a knight from a fairy tale. But Kal-el was a fearsome ace who hunted down Urano’s most advanced single-seat fighter, the "Alice Actus," with the ease of chasing turkeys. Though later it was discovered that the Isla Fleet's standard fighter, the "Maestra," was inferior in horsepower and turning ability compared to the Alice Actus, Kal-el had still managed to dominate despite the disadvantage, proving his exceptional skill.

"I want to have a mock battle..."

Kiyoaki’s inner desire reared its head. He wanted to engage in a one-on-one duel with Kal-el in a fighter of equal performance. Currently, they were still ironing out various issues related to the alliance between the Kingdom of Sylvania and the Isla Fleet, so a mock battle wasn’t possible yet. But Kiyoaki earnestly hoped that someday it would be.

Kal-el likely felt the same.

Kal-el's words gave Kiyoaki the impression that he was silently sizing him up, curious about how capable the leader of the Sylvania Kingdom’s elite fighter squadron, the Valkyries, truly was.

Since Akmed had died in the battle three weeks ago, Kiyoaki, as the second in command, took over the aerial combat leadership, securing victory with the help of the Isla Fleet. After the battle, due to Queen Elisabeth’s wishes, Kiyoaki was appointed as Akmed’s successor and became the leader of the Valkyries.

Kiyoaki had no doubts. He had no intention of retreating now, as he was determined to carry on Akmed’s final wishes. Illia also took up the position of Valkyrie Vice Commander and was currently advancing in her duties as a new officer, leading the squad members.

"So, is there anywhere else you’d like to see?"

"No, thank you. That was very helpful. I think I can give Admiral Luis a good report. Well, shall we head back? I don’t want to keep my companions waiting too long."

"Yeah, they might have already started without us."

"I’ll apologize in advance—my guys aren’t very refined..."

"Oh, don’t worry. Ours aren’t much better."

At 2 p.m., under the still high sun, they boarded the reconnaissance plane for the return trip. With Kiyoaki at the controls, they took off from Odin.

To the east, the great waterfall dividing the world in two came into view. To the south was the vast archipelago of the Southern Islands. Below them, the shadow of the long island of Santos carved through the sea. About thirty heavy and light cruisers were anchored in formation along the coast, and the silhouettes of two super dreadnought battleships and four aircraft carriers were visible at Sierra Greed’s naval harbor docks. In four of the docks, two other super dreadnought battleships and two regular aircraft carriers were undergoing repairs, while the remaining nearly two hundred warships and over two thousand transport ships of the Isla Fleet, which couldn’t be accommodated, were scattered throughout the Hydrabard archipelago, using the port facilities with permission from the local lords.

The flight was short. After about seven or eight minutes, they landed at the first airfield of Sierra Greed. This airfield, currently serving as the Valkyries' base, was now also being shared on a trial basis with some members of Kal-el’s Isla Fleet’s First Air Squadron. Thirty "Maestra" fighters, with their white bodies trimmed in red, were lined up, basking in the sun on Santos Island.

Upon landing, the pair were greeted by Sanatra, a member of the Valkyries. After saluting Kal-el, she smiled brightly at Kiyoaki.

"Sorry, as expected, it’s already started. Everyone’s at the beach."

"I figured as much. Are they getting along?"

"So far, yes. Though I’m not sure how things are now. But they speak the same language, so I think they’ll manage. I’ll drive you there."

The 27-year-old, unmarried senior Valkyrie member took the wheel of a military vehicle and gestured for the two to sit in the back.

The welcoming party for the Isla Fleet's First Air Squadron was held at a beach near the airfield.

As the locals swam nearby, about thirty members of the Valkyries and an equal number of Isla Fleet First Air Squadron pilots were already mingling and drinking heavily. Neither Kiyoaki nor Kal-el were noticed upon their return, as the two elite squadrons’ members were caught up in raucous laughter, insults, and screams scattered throughout the beach. In one corner of the beach, a fistfight had already broken out, and instead of stopping it, the surrounding pilots whistled and cheered them on.

"Ah... I knew it would turn out like this..."

Kal-el sighed, and Kiyoaki responded with a wry smile.

"They’re just playing around. They’re happy to have new friends to spar with."

"Is it like this in every country? I wish they’d save that energy for fighting Urano..."

Fights among soldiers were a daily occurrence, and for some, a punch was a quicker way to understand each other than exchanging words. Leaving them to it, Kiyoaki and Kal-el toasted each other.

Looking around, not only soldiers but local vendors were setting up stalls, and many civilians, particularly women looking for attention from the pilots, had joined the crowd. People in swimsuits were swimming in the sea, and even some women working openly in revealing outfits were mingling. The lively atmosphere was infectious.

The July sky was a clear blue. Even the sea breeze couldn’t blow away the heat from the sand. Kal-el downed his beer and, with a boyish grin, surveyed the Isla pilots.

"This is a nice island. The locals are kind too. I haven’t seen everyone having this much fun in a long time."

"The Isla Fleet is seen as saviours of the archipelago. The locals are grateful. This island was under Urano’s control for a while, and they had a rough time..."

Looking up at the reddening sky, Kiyoaki thought back on the past. It had been roughly four years since the start of the Hydrabard campaign. Santos Island had been wounded and exhausted beyond measure.

Kal-el sighed deeply, reflecting on Kiyoaki’s words.

"I truly hope to build a good relationship with the kingdom. On this journey, things have rarely gone as planned. The crew needs a bit of rest."

It was said that the four warships that docked at Sierra Greed’s naval harbor had suffered significant damage and would need at least four months for repairs. There were also matters of replenishing injured crew members, replacing damaged parts and equipment, and resupplying ammunition, all of which were being discussed between the fleet and the kingdom. Both sides seemed equally war-weary.

Suddenly, another fight broke out in a different group from the earlier one. Soon, a circle of onlookers formed, fists were raised, and people began placing bets. Kiyoaki was used to the rough behaviour of the lower-ranking pilots, but the frequency of the fights seemed unusually high.

As he wondered why, Valkyrie member Kandata came running towards Kiyoaki, with Illia in tow, as if they were escaping something.

"Is there a problem?"

Kandata smiled awkwardly and, in an unexpectedly gentle tone for someone of his large stature, said,

"Well, sort of. There’s been a bit of trouble involving the vice commander. It’s better if she stays by your side, sir. That way, no one will bother her."

Illia, urged by Kandata, raised a serious expression.

"...Have I done something inappropriate?"

"Ah... no. Vice Commander, it’s not your fault. It’s just that... well, it seems like no matter where you go, pilots all think the same way..."

"What do you mean?"

"Uh... how should I put this... there are some Isla pilots who want to get a bit too close to you, Vice Commander. And there are some Valkyries who don’t like that. So, fights break out. That’s what’s happening."

"What do you mean by ‘too close’?"

"Uh... Captain, could you handle the rest?"

Tired of explaining, Kandata pushed Illia toward Kiyoaki and quickly excused himself.

Illia, looking unconvinced, glanced at Kiyoaki.

"Why am I being chased away? Am I a nuisance?"

"Well... don’t think too much about it. I know it’s not your fault, Illia."

It was likely that an Isla pilot had tried to flirt with Illia, which angered the Valkyries. From Kandata’s tone, it seemed both of the current fight circles were due to Illia. The Isla pilots probably had no idea that this seemingly delicate woman had over 200 confirmed aerial victories as a top ace.

At that moment, Kal-el poked Kiyoaki in the side with a smile.

"Would you introduce me?"

Kal-el seemed genuinely interested in Illia. Kiyoaki, feeling a bit wary that Kal-el might make a move, quickly introduced them.

"Illia, this is Captain Kal-el Albus. He prefers we call each other by our first names. Kal, this is Captain Illia Kreischmidt."

Kal-el smiled charmingly, like a prince, and extended his hand to Illia.

"May I call you Illia?"

Illia shook his hand and replied resolutely,

"If that is the Captain’s wish."

"Great. Pleased to meet you, Illia."

"Likewise, Captain."

"Just call me Kal. After all, Kiyoaki does."

Illia cast a quick glance at Kiyoaki, who responded with a smile. It was rare for people to call each other by their first names in the Akitsu Federation, and it wasn’t common even in the St Vault Empire. But this was likely the custom of Kal-el’s homeland, the Balesteros Republic. Or perhaps it was Kal-el’s personal preference. Either way, it was a straightforward way to break down formal barriers.

"Understood... Kal."

Illia awkwardly complied, her expression stiff. Kal-el, with a proud smile, raised his paper cup.

"Illia, do you drink?"

"Ah, no, I..."

"You don’t drink?"

"...No, that’s not it."

Illia averted her eyes awkwardly. She could have easily lied and said she didn’t drink, but she was too honest for that. What even the Valkyries didn’t know was that Illia was a notorious drunk. Once alcohol was in her system, there was no telling what she would do. Kiyoaki had made it a habit to keep a close eye on her during these kinds of parties, making sure no one gave her a drink.

Kal-el, without pressing further, changed the subject.

"I believe we’ve met before. You were in the air during the last battle, weren’t you?"

"Yes. When I was about to be shot down, you saved me."

"Oh, is that so? I’m glad to hear it. I remember seeing you with Kiyoaki on the runway after the battle."

"Yes, that was our first time meeting on the ground."

"Are you two married?"

"...Huh?"

"You were hugging each other, right?"

Without any warning, Kal-el’s question left Kiyoaki and Illia stunned.

"......"

"Oh, you’re not? Are you just dating then? But you were about to kiss, weren’t you? You stopped because I came along, right? I remember thinking, "Oh no, I just ruined the mood." I felt really bad about it."

With innocent, guileless eyes and a pure smile, Kal-el continued to poke into Kiyoaki and Illia’s relationship.

"Huh? Kiyoaki is bright red and Illia is pale as a ghost? What’s that, traffic lights? Should I turn yellow?"

Laughing at his own not-so-funny joke, Kal-el piled on more comments.

"You two are radiating happiness just standing next to each other! It’s like you’re glowing. Even without words, I can feel the depth of your love. Wonderful! May you always be happy together!"

At the end of Kal-el’s firmly raised thumb stood Kiyoaki and Illia, frozen solid from head to toe.

"Huh?"

Kal-el, still giving a thumbs-up, smiled curiously at the two of them, who stood rooted to the ground, unable to move.

Kiyoaki and Illia couldn’t even blink, standing side by side, motionless, as if nailed to the ground by invisible stakes.

"Could I have been wrong? Maybe you’re not even lovers, let alone married? Hmm—? Did I make a mistake?"

Kal-el winked, scratched the back of his head, then looked up at the sky and burst into loud laughter, "Ha ha ha!"

Kiyoaki had no idea what was so funny.

Or rather, he was beginning to wonder if Kal-el was perhaps hopelessly naive and insensitive. He would speak with a cheerful smile, confidently guessing things, and when he realized he had failed, he would just laugh it off.

Kiyoaki struggled to find the right words to respond, trying to pull his scattered thoughts back together.

"But even if you’re not lovers, you both like each other, right? So I don’t think my guess was entirely wrong."

Kal-el, brimming with confidence, persistently threw another bombshell.

Kiyoaki’s mouth hung open as he stared at the man in front of him.

—What is with this guy!?

Inwardly, Kiyoaki found himself referring to Kal-el as "this guy." When he was in the Voltec Squadron, Lala and Lulu had teased him about his relationship with Illia a few times, but never had anyone asked him so directly and repeatedly. Was this just how people from Balesteros were? No, probably not. In the past three weeks, Kiyoaki had interacted with other members of the Isla Fleet, and none were as thick-skinned as Kal-el. This lack of sensitivity seemed to be less about his nationality and more about Kal-el’s individual personality.

If only there were some malice behind his actions, Kiyoaki could have reprimanded or gotten angry at him. But those starry, innocent eyes suggested that Kal-el was genuinely curious about Kiyoaki and Illia’s relationship. What he planned to do with that knowledge was unclear, but it didn’t seem like he would stop until he got an answer, disregarding any gain or loss.

"Hey, Illia? Are you alright? Your face is really red. Are you feeling hot? Here, drink this."

Without a trace of ill will, Kal-el tilted his head in concern and placed a paper cup filled with beer into Illia’s hand.

"It’s nice and cold. Drink it all at once! I’ll drink with you, one, two, down the hatch—"

With a strange chant, Kal-el put his hand on his hip and downed the beer in one gulp. Illia, now an empty shell of her former self, mimicked him like a puppet, draining her cup as well.

"Haha, Illia! You’re a great drinker! Come on, drink more!"

Had Kal-el, with his lethal level of innocence, instantly seen through Illia’s weakness for alcohol? Laughing cheerfully, he quickly poured another beer for Illia. If this continued, Illia would get drunk and become uncontrollable.

Just as Kiyoaki was about to step in to help, a drunk Sanatra stumbled into the scene.

"Huh? Illia can drink quite a bit. That’s great! Here, drink mine too!"

Sanatra poured some suspicious-looking coloured alcohol into Illia’s cup and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

"Hey, Illia, are you feeling feverish? You’re giving off steam."

"Now that you mention it... I do feel a bit feverish."

Illia replied, taking a small sip of Sanatra’s drink. Sanatra made a dramatic expression of surprise.

"That’s no good! We need to cool you down! Come on, Illia, I’ll show you how to cool off. We’ll be right back; I’m borrowing Illia for a moment."

With an arm around Illia’s shoulder, Sanatra led her toward a small hut at the edge of the beach.

As Kiyoaki fended off Kal-el’s relentless questioning, about thirty minutes later, Sanatra and Illia came walking back, both wrapped in bath towels.

"...Huh?"

Illia, with a flushed face, was now draped in a large bath towel, looking like a little teru teru bozu (a traditional Japanese rain-prevention doll), with only her face peeking out. She was barefoot, and her steps were unsteady, clearly still drunk. In fact, she seemed even more intoxicated than before she went into the hut.

Summer. The beach. The sounds of men and women playing in the sea. For some reason, Illia was now barefoot and even more inebriated than she had been earlier. A bad feeling tickled the back of Kiyoaki’s mind.

Sanatra’s method of cooling her down—surely not...

"Sorry for the wait! Come on, Illia, let’s make a big splash!"

Sanatra shouted enthusiastically as she tossed aside her own bath towel.

Sanatra was now wearing a V-shaped swimsuit that barely covered her chest and left most of her lower body exposed. The surrounding Valkyrie members noticed and whistled and clapped in approval. Meanwhile, Illia, still wrapped in her towel, wandered around with a distant look in her eyes. Her face was even redder than before. She must have been given more alcohol in the hut.

"Huh? Illia, come on, you’ve got to go for it—Yeah!!"

"...Still... feel feverish."

"Alright, then I’ll help. Yeahh!!"

With that, Sanatra whipped the towel off Illia.

Beneath the towel, Illia was wearing a skimpy piece of fabric, barely covering the essential areas.

In that instant—

Kiyoaki’s nose erupted with a spray of blood.

The surrounding soldiers cheered, some bowed in reverence, while others clutched their groins and collapsed in agony, each reacting in their own way.

Illia, clad in the tiny piece of fabric, seemed unaware of the chaos around her as she guzzled whiskey straight from the bottle.

"Illia, p-please, wear this...!!"

With blood pouring from his nose, Kiyoaki hastily threw the towel back over the half-naked Illia and then turned to glare at the crowd.

"Don’t look...!! Disperse, disperse now...!!"

As if he were protecting his own dignity, Kiyoaki wrapped his arm around Illia’s towel-covered back, shielding her from the soldiers' eyes.

As the booing rained down on him, Kiyoaki’s temper flared, and he yelled,

"This is an order! Disperse!! Clear a path!! Anyone who interferes will be thrown in the brig, I mean it!!"

While shielding Illia from lecherous gazes, Kiyoaki split the gathering soldiers in two with his commanding tone and somehow managed to carry Illia back to the hut.

"H-hurry up and change, Illia. I’ll stand guard at the door...!!"

Driven by what little reason remained, Kiyoaki stood guard outside the hut, trying not to look at Illia.

As expected, the now-unhinged soldiers were gathering outside the hut.

"Disperse!! Stay away!! You saw nothing, forget everything!!"

Even as he barked out these unreasonable orders, Kiyoaki’s mind was still filled with the image of the scantily clad Illia that he had just seen, seared into his memory, unable to forget...

Part ???

Basically, women are bothersome creatures, but I feel like there are many occasions where particularly annoying women get involved in my work. Is it just my imagination?

Balthazar Grim, a major in the St Vault Empire’s Joint Operations Command and military advisor to the Kingdom of Sylvania, pushed back the words he couldn’t say into the depths of his throat and observed the expression of the female officer standing before him.

There was no expression.

Among the women Balthazar had encountered, Illia was known for her lack of expression, but this female officer was far worse. Even when she spoke, only her mouth moved, while the rest of her face remained as still as a ventriloquist’s dummy. He found himself staring at her, wondering if there was a slit under her mouth.

—Amelia Cervantes.

Balthazar wasn’t interested in a woman’s beauty or lack thereof, but by society’s standards, this woman likely ranked quite high. The high-ranking officers who occasionally glanced at her from the sidelines were undoubtedly intrigued. Yet the content of her conversation was utterly irrelevant, not even remotely connected to work, and had nothing to do with seduction. For Balthazar, it was a completely off-base topic.

"Sierra Greed’s securities market should become the centre of international financial transactions," she said.

Balthazar kept his lips pressed into a straight line, offering no reply.

—Why are you talking to me about this?

A sense of unease began to creep into the back of his mind as Balthazar continued to observe Amelia’s expression, trying to gauge her intentions.

At the buffet-style party being held at the Royal Guest House, politicians, businesspeople, and military personnel from the Archipelago were mingling and chatting merrily with important figures from the Isla Fleet. Many prominent bankers and individual investors were also in attendance, so why, Balthazar wondered, was she bringing up international securities transactions with him instead of with them?

There was only one possibility.

But it seemed impossible that a woman who had only set foot on Santos Island three weeks ago could have sniffed out Balthazar’s personal secret.

"Now that the Selfaust market has fallen into Urano’s hands, there is no international exchange more geopolitically favourable for fair international transactions than the Sierra Greed market. What are your thoughts, Major Grim?"

I’m a military advisor to the Kingdom of Sylvania. I don’t care where the securities exchange is located, and even if I did, I have no authority to do anything about it... was what Balthazar wanted to say, but he didn’t want to come across as a military fool ignorant of economic matters. So, he decided to impress this arrogant woman with a display of his extensive knowledge.

"You’re absolutely right. Transferring the function of the market would have been difficult during the medieval period, but with the development of accounting and telegraphy, it’s now possible. Modern securities companies have settlement systems, so securities can be exchanged through bookkeeping, and telegraph transactions are also feasible. In the medieval period, financial companies clustered together in financial districts because it was more convenient to have transaction partners nearby. The Selfaust market originated from brokers gathering in coffee houses to find trading partners. However, in today’s world of advanced telecommunications, what determines the prosperity or decline of a market is not the physical proximity of its participants but whether the major players are gathered there or not. Now that Selfaust has lost its fairness, if prominent investors gather in the Sierra Greed market, it will become the financial centre of the world. Given that the Isla Fleet protects this market, one could argue it’s the safest market in the world right now."

He added in some trivia for good measure, but the woman didn’t bat an eyelash, continuing to stare at him intently.

No—when he mentioned "prominent investors," her eyes seemed to flicker slightly. Perhaps this woman had indeed caught wind of Balthazar’s personal background.

"In the Sierra Greed market, we are considering issuing wartime bonds for one of the Isla Fleet’s home countries, the Balesteros Republic," she said suddenly, her ventriloquist’s dummy-like lips barely moving.

"I see. I’m sure the Sierra Greed market will thrive," Balthazar replied, even though he had his doubts. Issuing wartime bonds on the international market meant borrowing money to acquire foreign currency to fund the war effort. But unless the Balesteros Republic had the capacity to repay those debts, investors wouldn’t bite on bonds that could crash at any moment. All the advanced countries of the Archipelago were on the gold standard, so only countries that could back their issued currency with gold would be recognized as legitimate trading partners.

It was likely that the Isla Fleet was strapped for cash. Even though they had been granted free use of the docks in the Hydrabard Archipelago, they still had to cover the costs of spare parts, ammunition, supplies, and crew wages out of their own pockets. It had been two years since they set sail, and their equipment was becoming outdated. The Isla Fleet’s main single-seat fighter, the Maestra, was inferior to the latest fighter models from the Archipelago’s major powers. If they wanted to fight Urano effectively, they would need to upgrade all their equipment, which required an enormous amount of money.

The prolonged voyage had likely caused Isla Fleet stocks to plummet, and investors back home were probably starting to sell. They were likely looking to start trading on this foreign securities market to raise foreign currency, jumpstart international trade, and push their stocks back up.

—These guys need all the money they can get.

Balthazar mentally noted this.

Throughout history, war has always required money.

One could say that the amount of money one possessed determined victory or defeat.

In fact, the reason the St Vault Empire, driven from the Mitterland continent, was still able to continue the war was because they had gold. When the Treasury Department realized that the Harmonia Imperial Army’s advance would be difficult to stop, they transferred all the gold reserves from the central bank in the capital to the central bank on Air Hunt Island, long before the capital was captured. The amount of gold was enough to fill a two-story house, and when placed into the banking system, it was magically transformed into paper money worth hundreds of times the gold’s face value. This miracle of finance was what continued to feed all the Empire’s soldiers and maintain and develop its weaponry.

But the question was whether prominent players would gather at the Sierra Greed market.

Even if they issued bonds, if the market wasn’t trusted, no one would come. Trust in the market meant "gold reserves" and "military security." If a place where national budgets were traded was compromised by guns and cannons, its fairness would be lost. As Amelia had mentioned, Sierra Greed was indeed geopolitically and militarily well-positioned, making it an attractive market for investors.

However, it was a remote and undeveloped place, with no track record of large-scale international transactions. How could they attract international star players to this backwater market?

The ventriloquist’s dummy spoke again.

"You need connections with influential financiers."

So that’s what she was after.

"It would certainly help," Balthazar replied, pretending not to notice her intentions.

"If someone like Renior Berner were to enter the Sierra Greed securities market and invest in Balesteros war bonds, it would surely attract the attention of other investors."

The mention of that man’s name filled Balthazar’s insides with venomous hatred. Careful not to let the dark, seething emotions show on his face, he responded calmly.

"Everyone is free to dream."

"Is it impossible?"

"He’s not the type to be swayed by others."

"Not even by a request from family?"

Balthazar couldn’t help but snort in amusement. How Amelia had discovered that he was Renior’s grandson was a mystery, but she clearly had no idea what kind of person the old man was.

Renior Berner.

Balthazar’s paternal grandfather, and the head of the Berner financial conglomerate, which controlled the economies of the Mitterland, Vestelant, and Akitsu, as well as the Archipelago.

Renior could easily manipulate the price of bonds with a mere flick of his finger. If Renior were to buy Balesteros war bonds as Amelia hoped, it would undoubtedly draw in other investors. This influx of foreign currency would push the fleet’s stocks up back home, and the Isla Fleet could continue their journey for another ten or even twenty years. It would be a dream come true. And it was nothing more than a dream.

"If a family member made a request, Renior would likely disown them. The reason? Having the audacity to offer their opinion to someone of his stature. That’s the kind of person he is."

Amelia’s expressionless eyes stared at Balthazar.

"Those around Renior are nothing more than cogs, there to faithfully execute his orders. Anyone who so much as offers an opinion is stripped of everything and cast out. Blood ties or achievements don’t matter. The only thing Renior values is an automaton that charges in the direction he points."

Balthazar tried to suppress his emotions, but it wasn’t working. Just mentioning Renior’s name set every cell in his body aflame with rage.

—I’m here to destroy that old man’s "empire."

—Relying on his power in the process would be the height of foolishness.

Silently cursing Amelia, Balthazar cut the conversation short.

"I suggest you seek out a top-tier broker. There are likely financiers in this very hall who have connections to the Berner conglomerate. I’m just a strategist, not a financial expert. I’m sorry I can’t be of more help."

As Balthazar turned his back to leave, Amelia spoke again in her usual monotone.

"For someone known as the brains of the St Vault Imperial Army, you seem surprisingly emotional."

Balthazar paused mid-turn.

Amelia’s next words pierced straight through to his core.

"Are you saying that, despite being dealt the best hand, you’d fold just because you don’t like the cards?"

The muscles around Balthazar’s eyes twitched.

For the first time in a while—he felt an urge to kill.

Slowly, he turned his ice-cold gaze back to Amelia.

"The best hand?" he said, his voice devoid of emotion.

"Don’t you mean a curse?"

He didn’t need words; the malice in his eyes spoke volumes as he glared at Amelia.

"If I could return these cards to the deck, I would. If I could throw them away, they’d be gone already. Does your country have a way to erase the brand seared onto my forehead?"

Amelia met Balthazar’s gaze with her own lifeless eyes.

"A brand?"

Without missing a beat, she replied, almost as if mocking him.

"Don’t you mean a blessing?"

Balthazar didn’t bother to hide his contempt as he laughed at her words.

—One day, I’ll make her cry.

—Let’s see if she’d still call it a blessing after experiencing my childhood.

Barely suppressing the seething hatred bubbling up from his memories, Balthazar was about to walk away when—

"It seems like you’re having quite the lively conversation, Foreign Minister. It’s been years since I’ve seen you this animated."

With this annoyingly theatrical line, a tall male officer with long black hair trailing behind him appeared beside Amelia, giving her a wink. Balthazar, recognizing the man, halted his steps once more.

—Admiral Luis de Alarcon, of the Isla Fleet.

Although Balthazar had only seen him from a distance until now, the fact that he was facing the man who held full authority over the Isla Fleet meant that he couldn’t simply walk away.

"Thank you for entertaining the Foreign Minister. To see her so animated means you must be quite a formidable conversationalist. I’m Admiral Luis de Alarcon of the Isla Fleet. May I ask your name?"

Balthazar had no idea what part of Amelia was supposedly "animated," but he faced Luis directly and introduced himself.

"I’m Major Balthazar Grim, strategist for the St Vault Empire’s Joint Operations Command and military advisor to the Kingdom of Sylvania. It’s an honour to meet you, Admiral Luis."

"Ah, so you’re the famed "Strategist of Achilles," Major Balthazar. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you."

Luis, in an exaggerated manner, bowed as if he were a court noble, drawing back his right foot and lowering his gaze. Balthazar, inwardly rolling his eyes at the admiral’s overly theatrical behaviour, offered a modest response.

"It’s a nickname the media back home gave me to appeal to the public. For some reason, the St Vault papers have made me out to be the hero of the Second Battle of Sierra Greed."

Due to repeatedly thwarting the strategic plans of Urano’s chief of staff, Achilles Karamakion, Balthazar’s standing within the military had improved significantly. Not only had he correctly predicted that the Kukuana Line would be overrun by aerial fortresses, but he had also successfully defended the island of Santos with the help of the Second Isla Fleet, despite Field Marshal Raphael Donauer of the St Vault Empire declaring the island "indefensible." As a result, Balthazar’s opinions now carried considerable weight at the Operations Command.

Luis, clearly pleased to have encountered the "Strategist of Achilles," softened his tone.

"Well, in any case, I hope your rise in rank benefits us as well. The more closely we can collaborate with the St Vault Empire, the better—especially as we fight not only to protect the Hydrabard Archipelago but also against Urano."

"Likewise. The St Vault Empire is eager to join forces with the Isla Fleet to continue the fight against Urano."

It was a bit frightening to rely too heavily on them, but given that the St Vault Empire was on the brink of collapse, they had little choice but to work with the Isla Fleet. The question was how far they could reveal their true intentions.

Whether or not Luis understood Balthazar’s inner thoughts, the admiral lightened the conversation with a less serious topic.

"Honestly, I’m a bit jealous. No matter how much I tease her, the Foreign Minister never reacts, yet with you, she seems to have shown quite a range of expressions."

Balthazar had no idea what expressions Luis was referring to, but he responded diplomatically.

"We had a minor disagreement, that’s all."

"Please don’t hold back on lively debates. After all, we’ve suddenly brought forty thousand Isla Fleet crew members into your homeland. It would be strange if there were no friction. Honest exchanges of opinion will only help us understand each other more quickly."

"Your gracious words are much appreciated."

How much of that should I believe? If I take it at face value and start spilling all the information, there’ll be a painful payback later. I must be careful not to reveal too much and carefully sift through what I can share and what must remain hidden when dealing with Luis and Amelia. Even in informal settings like this, letting your guard down is forbidden. I need to wear the mask of sincerity deeply, never showing my true feelings, skilfully changing the subject or deflecting conversations that might work against me with polite diplomatic phrases, and proactively bringing up topics that will help us bond.

Balthazar completed this thought process in 0.2 seconds and decided to throw out the most irresistible bait for Luis and Amelia: an insult aimed at their hated enemy.

"We must drag Nina Viento down from the throne and put her on the guillotine as soon as possible, or this world will perish. We must make her taste the same suffering she inflicted on this land, and to do that, we must cooperate closely."

The moment Balthazar mentioned Nina Viento’s name, the relaxed expression on Luis’s face tensed up. Despite his usual easy-going demeanour, it seemed he couldn’t hide his hostility when it came to Nina.

It was understandable. During his long journey since leaving his homeland, many of his crew had died fighting Urano. Nina Viento, who was responsible for the deaths of his comrades, was undoubtedly Luis’s mortal enemy.

—Use his hatred for Nina to stir empathy and win Luis over.

Smiling inwardly, Balthazar decided on his course of action.

—In settings like this, insults are the best tool for building rapport.

—By using insults about Nina, I can avoid unfavourable topics and get Luis to like me more.

In social gatherings, having a good sense of humour is crucial. Balthazar had always made it a point to collect the latest jokes and use them when trying to ingratiate himself with people. He decided to loosen Luis’s heart with a clever joke about Nina and give off an impression of being outgoing.

"They say Nina Viento is a genius. After all, by the age of five, she already had the intelligence she has now."

That should work as an opener. Luis, looking momentarily surprised, cracked a small smile. Though the memories of his fallen comrades likely prevented him from fully relaxing, the ice had started to break. Now for the next move.

"They’re making a biopic about Nina Viento in St Vault, but they’re having trouble getting the baboon playing her to cooperate. Unfortunately, they couldn’t find any actresses who resembled her... An orangutan stood in, but other than throwing its own dung, it wasn’t a good match."

Balthazar shrugged theatrically and glanced at Luis out of the corner of his eye. Though Luis’s smile was stiff, it was there, but beneath that smile lay hidden sorrow. Was the joke not cutting deep enough? Time for a more biting remark.

"Nina’s son once asked her, "Mom, what’s a virgin birth?" And she replied, "It’s the miracle by which I gave birth to you." Then the boy turned to his eight siblings and said, "Hey guys, it turns out we don’t look alike because we’re all products of virgin births.""

This one was a sure hit. After all, nothing worked better than a crude joke about Nina. Luis’s face twisted into a pained smile, and after clearing his throat, he nodded.

"...Yes, I see. That’s how the people of St Vault perceive Nina Viento."

Did the joke not land? Luis’s tone had dropped, and Amelia, who had remained expressionless throughout, seemed to have a flicker of something hostile in her eyes. Perhaps dirty jokes didn’t go over well with women.

Just as doubt began to creep in, a voice cut in from the side, sounding puzzled.

"Admiral Luis, is something the matter? Did Major Grim say something offensive?"

Queen Elisabeth of the Kingdom of Sylvania, her orange eyes filled with suspicion, stood between Balthazar and Luis, her gaze alternating between them.

Everyone hurriedly took a step back with their right foot, offered a silent bow, and then looked up. It was Luis who answered.

"Your Majesty, not at all. Major Grim was just enlightening me about the jokes popular in the St Vault Empire."

With a smile that radiated fondness, Luis seemed to imply there was no problem at all. His face, which had been clouded while enduring Balthazar’s jokes, now bore a calm, natural smile.

"Major Grim’s jokes, you say... What kind?" Elisabeth’s expression darkened, and she shot an anxious glance at Balthazar.

A bad feeling crept up on Balthazar, but he hadn’t done anything wrong. Standing tall, he answered confidently.

"I was sharing a few jokes that are currently popular in the Empire about Nina Viento."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Elisabeth’s face turned pale.

She glared at Balthazar reproachfully, then abruptly turned her back on Luis and stepped directly in front of Balthazar, speaking in a low voice.

"Captain, that joke... was it the one about the baboon or something?"

Elisabeth had reverted to her former self, as Cecil Hauer, a simple girl, rather than a queen, and Balthazar answered her honestly.

"Indeed. I also told the one about the five-year-old intelligence and the virgin birth."

Elisabeth’s eyes widened in horror.

"You IDIOT!"

Balthazar barely resisted the urge to throttle her, struggling to hold back his temper.

"What do you mean by that?"

Fighting to maintain his composure, he asked in a whisper.

"Why would you say something like that to the admiral..."

Elisabeth’s face contorted with near tears.

Balthazar was still confused by what she meant, when Amelia stepped in to help.

"Perhaps Major Grim was unaware that we travelled with Nina Viento on the flying island Isla."

In that instant, lightning struck Balthazar’s mind.

Unaware?

This was the first he’d heard of it.

".............................."

He felt the ground sway beneath him. He thought it was an earthquake, but it was just his own legs trembling.

—Luis and his people travelled with Nina Viento?

Elisabeth, on Balthazar’s behalf, apologized to Amelia with a guilty expression.

"We hadn’t informed the people of the St Vault Empire about it, out of concern that it might provoke unnecessary hostility. We didn’t want it to affect our joint operations."

Luis, clearly flustered, waved his hands in front of his face and interrupted her apology.

"Of course, we understand. To the people of St Vault, Urano is a hated enemy. It’s only natural that such malicious jokes would become popular."

"But... there was no need to say such things in front of Admiral Luis."

Elisabeth shot Balthazar another sharp glare, scolding him.

"...My apologies. I had no idea the admiral was personally acquainted with Nina..."

When Balthazar tried to explain, Elisabeth finally lost her temper.

"Not just acquainted! Admiral Luis organized the Second Isla Fleet to rescue Nina Viento! Queen Nina sacrificed herself as a hostage to save Isla by traveling to Urano’s capital, Pleiades. The Isla Fleet has overcome countless hardships to reach the Archipelago, all to repay Queen Nina’s sacrifice...!"

A storm raged in Balthazar’s mind. It seemed that the jokes about Nina had completely backfired. What he had intended to be a harmless insult to avoid sensitive topics and win Luis over had ended up stepping on a massive landmine instead.

"Admiral Luis, I sincerely apologize. This man meant no harm; it’s just that, well, he’s an excellent strategist but... rather lacking as a human being..."

Elisabeth attempted to smooth things over, but Luis, waving his hands grandiosely, burst into hearty laughter. His face, which had been darkened by Balthazar’s endless string of jokes, now shone with brightness.

"I hear you two have known each other since your school days. Major Grim was your senior, wasn’t he? He must have been very close to Your Majesty. It’s an honour to witness your camaraderie firsthand."

Luis’s teasing comment made Elisabeth blush furiously. She had momentarily forgotten herself and slipped back into being Cecil.

"...I apologize. I got a little carried away and reverted to my school days. It seems I lose track of time when Major Grim is around."

"No, no, the two of you are still young. It’s only natural to have quarrels. To have someone you can be completely open with is a rare and precious thing. At my age, it’s not so easy to find someone to argue with."

Instead of being offended, Luis seemed to be opening up more. As expected of a commander leading such a large fleet, his tolerance was impressive. Balthazar bowed his head and apologized again.

"...I apologize. There are still many gaps in the coordination between our forces, and... we have not been able to fully share information."

"Oh, don’t worry about it. We understand the people of St Vault hate Nina Viento. After all, Urano has launched a massive offensive in her name. We also believe that once her will aligns with Urano’s, the war will end. But when that will be... who knows? Besides..."

Luis was about to continue when another voice interrupted from above.

"That day will never come."

The voice was raspy, like the sound of rusty metal scraping against a pipe.

"If she ever gains true power, Nina won’t live long."

The man was standing beside Balthazar before anyone had noticed, sipping from a wine glass.

"...?"

His sudden appearance was akin to smoke materializing from nowhere. With a faint, mocking smile, he made his ominous statement and took a sip of his wine, wearing an expression of distaste.

"Your Highness, it’s a rare sight to see you at such a gathering. I thought you disliked parties like this."

Luis welcomed the man with a tone of affection. The man seemed to be some kind of royalty. He was short, with somewhat dark skin, and his silver eyes had a jaded, decadent gleam. His large lapel, outdated chest ornaments, and gold-embroidered sleeves and hems gave him an ostentatious appearance. With a dismissive snort at Luis’s words, the man paid no attention to Balthazar and instead threw a disinterested glance at Elisabeth.

The impression Balthazar got from the man was of a "wilted rose." A rose that had bloomed unnoticed in a forgotten garden, only to wither and die.

Luis introduced him.

"This is His Highness Manius Sidus, the second prince of Urano, here as a goodwill ambassador to our fleet. Your Majesty, this is Queen Elisabeth of Sylvania, and beside her is Major Balthazar Grim of the St Vault Imperial Army."

Elisabeth and Balthazar exchanged nods of greeting, but Manius kept his gaze fixed on the wall behind Elisabeth’s head.

"Nice to meet you, Prince Manius. Your words are... intriguing. For someone so knowledgeable about the Urano Royal Palace to say such things, you must have good reason, I assume?"

Elisabeth, unfazed by Manius’s insolent attitude, pressed him for more information. Manius lowered his gaze to a spot on the floor behind Elisabeth and twisted his lips in a crooked smile.

"You’ve taken on a fleet far beyond your capacity."

With that same metallic voice, Manius abruptly changed the subject, ignoring the question. Elisabeth, however, showed no signs of discomfort and answered cheerfully.

"I am grateful for the admiral’s decision."

Manius’s gaze rose slightly, this time focusing on the wall behind Elisabeth’s chest.

I hate the entire world and everyone in it.

His snide glances, the way his lips twisted, the thinly veiled mockery in his words—all of it conveyed that sentiment loud and clear.

—I don’t like this guy.

That was Balthazar’s first impression of Manius, and he instinctively knew that impression would never change.

"If I were in his shoes."

Manius pointed lazily at Luis and spoke in a voice tinged with both sarcasm and boredom.

"Sending pawns into this country’s legislature, collecting taxes under the guise of wartime legislation, and refurbishing the Isla Fleet’s equipment."

It was a highly disrespectful statement directed at the queen. If a Royal Army officer had been present, they might have drawn their sabre. However, Elisabeth surprisingly displayed great composure, responding to Manius with a casual smile.

"I thank you for sharing Urano's traditional method of governing foreign peoples. I believe Urano employs the same method of exacting tribute from the Harmonia Empire."

Elisabeth’s expression didn’t change in the slightest, but Manius directed a twisted gaze at her.

"A ruler without sufficient military strength will perish. Relying on the military forces of a foreign nation is the height of folly."

Manius no longer bothered to hide his disdain, letting a sneer spread across his lips.

"If you wish for defeat, then by all means, invite reinforcements into your own country."

Elisabeth kept her smile intact and widened her eyes with a confident gleam.

"Speaking with you, Your Highness, is quite enjoyable. It's as if I've travelled back in time to the medieval era."

Though the tone of Manius's voice was harsh, Elisabeth’s response was nothing but playful, with no trace of irony in her words.

"Your ideas seem to stem from an era when public opinion was formed through word of mouth and billboards. There was once a philosopher in the St Vault Empire named Machiavelli, who wrote a book called The Prince that contains the very ideas you're discussing. It’s as if I’m speaking with Machiavelli himself; it’s quite an honour."

Balthazar couldn’t help but stifle a laugh deep in his throat. For once, this foolish woman had come up with a good retort. While Manius's views were correct, they were also grounded in the thinking of the medieval period when military forces were simpler. In modern warfare, where vast sums of money and legislative approval are required, joint operations with other nations aren’t necessarily unwise. If the economic principles and goals of the involved nations align, then collaboration may indeed serve the mutual benefit of both parties.

"Won’t you teach me more about the thinking of rulers from a thousand years ago?" Elisabeth cutely tilted her head and asked Manius for more.

—This woman can hold her own, it seems.

Balthazar felt a moment of newfound respect for Elisabeth, waiting with amusement for Manius’s response. He anticipated one of three reactions: either Manius would counterattack with further criticism, explode in anger and hurl insults, or silently leave. However, Manius’s response was unexpected.

"I suppose I could endure one more glass of this awful wine."

Saying this, he accepted a fresh glass from a waiter. Though the sneer remained on his face, something seemed to have piqued his interest. Both Luis and Amelia exchanged surprised glances, clearly taken aback by this unusual development.

"I hear Balesteros bonds will be listed on this island’s stock exchange. Is that for real?"

Once again, Manius steered the conversation in a completely unrelated direction. Unfazed, Elisabeth answered without skipping a beat.

"There is no downside for the Sierra Greed stock exchange."

"The Sierra Greed exchange has neither the track record nor the credibility to attract top investors."

"I don’t see it that way."

Manius took a sip of his wine, grimacing at its taste before continuing.

"Do you understand why the Selfaust exchange was once the financial centre of the archipelago?"

Elisabeth answered immediately.

"Because they had the gold reserves to back every note of currency. The major powers in the archipelago all adhere to the gold standard. The Selfaust exchange was able to attract top financial players because they had the gold to back it. When trading there, investors knew they could always exchange their paper money for gold, which gave them peace of mind and drew them to the market."

Balthazar, who had always thought of Elisabeth as a fool, suddenly reconsidered.

Her previous behaviour in the officer’s quarters had been so idiotic that he had underestimated her, but upon reflection, the fact that she had boarded the Eriadore airship at such a young age suggested she must have had impressive grades. He’d also heard rumours that she had never once surrendered the position of top student during her time at both the Air Hunt and Selfaust officer academies.

—In terms of academic achievements alone, Elisabeth’s intellect may be on par with mine...

Upon further thought, it occurred to Balthazar that Elisabeth had successfully secured the alliance of the Second Isla Fleet with the Kingdom of Sylvania without alerting the St Vault Empire. She had skilfully conducted foreign diplomacy and intelligence operations while the empire’s attention was consumed by the Mitterland front. From the perspective of intelligence operations, it was a remarkable achievement...

As Balthazar glanced at her in amazement, Elisabeth continued to speak pleasantly.

"Therefore, if we can demonstrate that the Sierra Greed exchange has sufficient gold reserves, investors will flock to it. Thanks to Admiral Luis, this island is well-defended by powerful military forces."

Manius, looking amused, replied.

"But you don’t have the essential gold."

Elisabeth smiled like a young girl and responded.

"Why do you think that?"

"If you had it, the Sierra Greed market would already be thriving."

After nodding in agreement, Elisabeth suddenly turned to Balthazar and asked a rather unexpected question.

"Major Grim, are you familiar with the rumours about the Sylvania royal family’s hidden fortune?"

Of course, Balthazar knew. About two years ago, during a return trip from military exercises on Santos Island with Brigadier General Victor Kahn, he had seen heavy machinery scattered across the island, digging massive holes in the ground. It was rumoured that a hidden treasure, worth 50 billion pesos, lay somewhere on the island. He recalled watching, through the window of his carriage, as treasure hunters, driven by greed, frantically excavated the land.

Could it be that the treasure actually exists?

"It’s a well-known rumour. I am, of course, aware of it."

Maintaining his composure, Balthazar answered, and Elisabeth responded with a cryptic smile.

"Do you believe it exists?"

Trying not to reveal his inner turmoil, Balthazar asked cautiously. If such a massive fortune of gold, worth 50 billion pesos, was truly hidden on the island, it would have a profound impact on the war economy of the archipelago. At the very least, it would instantly elevate the Kingdom of Sylvania to the ranks of the wealthiest nations in the archipelago.

Elisabeth, however, didn’t provide a clear answer. Instead, she simply smiled mysteriously and said,

"It would be wonderful if it did."

"...Of course."

"But if such a fortune did exist, it would only lead to further conflict on this island."

Her vague phrasing suggested, "It exists, but I can’t say," or perhaps she was deliberately trying to make them think it existed to gain a strategic advantage.

She was unreadable.

Balthazar found it difficult to gauge Elisabeth as a person. It was as if both intelligence and naivety coexisted within this small frame, making her an enigma.

Manius, too, seemed to study Elisabeth with a look of detached amusement, saying nothing.

It felt like watching two monsters sizing each other up in an eerie, silent standoff. Both clearly harboured ill intentions deep within, but neither revealed anything, only maintaining their smiles.

The next person to interject into Elisabeth’s conversation was another one of these monsters.

"If the hidden fortune really existed, why didn’t the kingdom use it to fend off Urano’s invasion? The lack of solid evidence of its existence is likely why it wasn’t utilized."

Balthazar had thought the same, but he had hesitated to ask the queen such a direct question. Amelia, however, voiced the doubt without batting an eye.

Elisabeth, unfazed, answered nonchalantly as though discussing something entirely unrelated.

"Even if one were aware of its existence, they might not have been able to access it due to the surrounding circumstances. For instance, if the hiding place had fallen into enemy hands..."

This woman had started the conversation herself, only to maintain a deliberately evasive attitude.

However, when assessing the kingdom’s situation objectively, it was clear that Amelia’s assertion was correct: "The fortune doesn’t exist." The Kingdom of Sylvania had been driven to the brink of destruction by Urano, and during the desperate battle three weeks ago, Elisabeth hadn’t mentioned a treasure worth 50 billion pesos. If it did exist, they would have used it by now.

Luis’s cheerful laughter swept away the tense atmosphere created by the monsters’ exchange.

"It’s a charming story. Right now, the archipelago seems to be in need of hope. It’s vital for Her Majesty to lead by offering such uplifting stories."

"The most uplifting news is that the Isla Fleet has chosen to dock here. It’s a great boon to the economy of the Hydrabard Archipelago."

"We would love to build friendly relations not only with the Kingdom of Sylvania but also with the people of the archipelago. As Her Majesty mentioned, we do not live in the medieval era. In modern warfare, where nations mobilize their entire resources, it’s becoming increasingly clear that war only brings disadvantages to both sides. It’s no longer an era where nations can prosper through war. Our goal is to open diplomatic relations with Urano and bring them to the international table of cooperation—that’s all. We have no interest in invading the archipelago. Even if we occupied the island by force, doing so would only alienate its people and jeopardize our future voyages. The duty of those of us living in the modern world is to discuss things openly and search for a path of mutual prosperity."

Luis smoothly articulated his ideals. His eloquence was almost suspicious, but his logic was sound.

Indeed, the era where nations could prosper through war was long over. In battles fought with swords and bows, it may have made sense to plunder from other countries, but modern warfare, with its tanks, aircraft carriers, and airplanes, was far too costly.

In the St Vault Empire, there had once been a prevailing myth that war could revitalize the economy. The idea was that waging war, producing vast amounts of weapons, and consuming artillery would stimulate factories and lead to full employment, thereby driving economic growth. However, modern economic theory had thoroughly debunked this myth. It was now understood that full employment could be achieved during peacetime through a combination of lower interest rates and public works. Instead of spending on weapons and artillery, investing in factories, urban infrastructure, social welfare, and education would yield far greater economic benefits in the long run.

In other words, from the perspective of modern economics, war offered no benefits.

So why, knowing all this, had the Second Archipelago War occurred?

—Because people are foolish.

What other explanation could there be? People were fighting simply because they were stupid. And because of this absurdity, millions had been killed or wounded. And that number was sure to rise.

As Balthazar realized his thoughts had drifted from the conversation at hand, Manius’s cold voice cut in.

"Urano will never stop this war. Their reasons for fighting aren’t rooted in economics. Urano’s doctrine, Heavenly Dominion, is no better than the scribbles of children. Over the course of two thousand years, this delusion has become a native disease of the Urano people. Until this sickness is cured, the war will never end."

He spoke in a single breath, then let his lips curl into a sarcastic smile.

"In other words, the war won’t end until either Urano or the nations of the surface are destroyed. The war between heaven and earth will continue until one side is utterly wiped out."

Manius’s expression was almost mocking as he looked around at the group. Elisabeth, however, smiled back at him.

"I'm surprised, Your Highness. You’re quite critical of Urano's way of life."

Manius scoffed through his nose.

"I’m merely naming the disease."

"That’s not an easy thing to do, especially for a member of the royal family."

Manius, for the first time today, focused his gaze on Elisabeth, twisting the lower half of his face into an expression of displeasure.

"Let’s toast. Hearing Your Highness speak, I’m glad to know that we can have open discussions with the people of Urano."

Elisabeth raised her champagne glass with a smile, glancing at him. In response, Manius snorted, raised his wine glass while looking off in another direction, made a clear clink, then brought the rim to his lips, muttering under his breath, "Terrible."

Part 11 (Part 2 of Volume 8)

The bamboo sword flew through the air, spinning like a pinwheel before striking the ceiling and landing on the wooden floor with a hard thud.

Kagura, sitting on the ground, stared in shock at her fallen bamboo sword, then looked up at her opponent.

Her older brother rested his bamboo sword on his shoulder, looking down at his sister with a cold, detached gaze.

"What were you doing in the royal court? Do you think you can serve the prince with that?"

Kagura bit her lip, quickly kneeling to retrieve her bamboo sword, and pleaded with her brother.

"Brother, one more match."

With a disdainful snort, Yukihira returned to the starting line, pointing his bamboo sword at his nine-year-old sister.

At twelve, Yukihira was three years older than Kagura, and she had never beaten him in a match. Still, she had spent the last two years at the royal court, practicing swordsmanship with Prince Daitoku, who was her age. Returning home today, she had hoped to finally surpass her brother.

"Ah!"

But once again, with a single flash of Yukihira’s bamboo sword, Kagura’s flew towards the ceiling, and she ended up on the floor in the same position, her bamboo sword rolling at her feet.

She glanced at the fallen sword, then looked up at her brother, whose eyes were filled with merciless disdain. Tears began to blur her vision.

"Don’t cry. It’s unbecoming."

Yukihira sighed as he extended a hand to his sister.

"I’m not crying," Kagura quickly wiped her eyes with her arm, took his hand, and stood up. Her brother, with a face as cold and pure as snow, looked down at her.

"Swordsmanship is not for women."

"That’s not true."

"Playing with dolls would suit you better."

Being told that by her admired brother, Kagura almost burst into tears again but quickly replaced her sadness with anger.

"Why do you always say such cruel things?"

Kagura had been devoting herself to training, avoiding typical girlish hobbies to one day become strong enough to support her brother, who was destined to lead the Murasaki family, renowned as the "Clan of Darkness." But Yukihira never acknowledged her efforts. In fact, the older she grew, the harsher his treatment became.

"One more match."

Kagura picked up her bamboo sword and pleaded again.

"Don’t think you can keep challenging the same opponent. A duel is over in one strike."

"But—"

"There’s no 'but' in battle. I’ve killed you twice already. There won’t be a third time."

Kagura knew he was right, but she was too frustrated to care. Unable to hold it in any longer, tears finally burst from her eyes.

"Waaaah! Waaah!"

She sat back down, sobbing loudly as she looked up at the ceiling. The two years of hard training, completely dismissed by her brother, filled her with overwhelming frustration and helplessness.

Yukihira’s princely expression twisted into one of irritation.

"This is why women are impossible. They think they can get whatever they want by crying."

"You’re a meanie, brother! You’re so cruel! Heartless!"

Her face a mess of tears and snot, Kagura cried without any concern for her dignity.

Looking down at his crying sister, Yukihira’s expression grew more severe. The disappointment in his face slowly disappeared, replaced by an explosion of anger, like a wildfire spreading across a snowy field.

"Enough! You are a member of the Murasaki clan! Stop wailing over something so trivial!"

Kagura’s sobbing came to a halt at her brother’s rare outburst.

"A samurai must never cry! No matter the circumstance, you must remain composed! We live by the will of the heavens, and we must not let personal emotions rule us!"

Yukihira’s resolute voice echoed through the empty dojo.

Kagura forced the rising sadness back down into her throat.

Yukihira seemed to stand before her, bathed in an ethereal flame, like an immovable king. It was the first time she had ever seen her usually composed brother so angry. She realized that if she continued crying, he might truly abandon her. Desperately, she swallowed her sadness.

"Stand up."

At his quiet command, Kagura silently stood.

"That was the last time. Never cry in front of others again."

"Yes, brother!"

"If you cry again, I will sever our bond as siblings."

"I won’t cry anymore!"

Kagura swore it from the bottom of her heart. If she were to lose her beloved brother, she wouldn’t be able to go on living.

As she held back her tears and wiped her snot-covered face, steeling her expression, Yukihira’s tone finally softened.

"…You’ve become stronger. I believe you will continue to grow stronger."

Yukihira reached out and gently patted her head. Forgetting her earlier tears, Kagura beamed with a wide smile.

"Yes! I will work hard so that I can one day defeat you, brother!"

But Yukihira's smile was tinged with a hint of resignation. It was as if he had finally understood that his sister would never give up on the path of the sword, no matter how much he tried to dissuade her.

"I don’t want you to walk the same path as me."

Yukihira muttered softly, but Kagura pouted in dissatisfaction.

"Why not?"

There was a faint sadness in Yukihira’s expression as he opened his mouth to answer.

It felt as though the wind carried Yukihira’s whispered words: You will die if you follow this path…

Kagura opened her eyes.

At some point, she had fallen asleep.

The remnants of her dream faded into the bright July sky.

"Brother…"

She whispered briefly. Now, her brother Yukihira was the commander of the Imperial Guard, serving closely under the emperor.

If Kagura continued down this path, she knew her brother's sword awaited her.

"…"

Kagura closed her eyes, pushing away the pain, then stood up.

The blazing summer sun reflected off her entire body, the hot water’s shimmering surface casting scattered light onto her pure, bare skin. She placed a hand on the scorching rocks as she emerged from the bath, gazing up at the sky as she filled her lungs with the air of the rural countryside.

Listening to the distant sound of cicadas beyond the hedge, Kagura lightly slapped her cheeks to focus, preparing herself for the "celebration" that was to take place that evening at this inn.

July, 1351 of the Imperial Calendar, outskirts of the capital city of the Holy Sword Kingdom.

A year and one month had passed since Kagura had sat alone with Prince Daitoku in the watchtower of the royal court and had been struck by a "divine revelation" like a bolt of thunder.

During this time, she had faithfully served as the commander of the "Shinmei Corps," the unit tasked with guarding the royal court, and had produced remarkable results. The prince had personally ordered her to "command the Shinmei Corps at your will," and now, after nearly a year of enduring gruelling training alongside them, the 250 elite soldiers were as loyal to Kagura as they were to the prince himself, ready to follow her into life or death.

Now, thanks to the prince’s connections, Kagura had gathered "allies" who shared her cause. They had quietly convened at this hot spring inn in the countryside under the pretence of celebrating a colleague’s safe return from the southern front. But in truth, their real purpose was to finalize the draft of the "Imperial Abdication Edict" and complete the plan for the swift capture of the imperial palace.

"Yes, this is a fine draft. There are no issues."

After reading through the full draft of the abdication edict, one of Kagura's allies, the captain of the Fourth Battalion of the Imperial Guard, nodded in approval.

"Once the blank spaces are filled with the emperor’s signature and the prime minister’s seal, it will become an official edict."

Beside him, the captain of the Airborne Battalion asked, "Then, we proceed to have it declared before the prince in the royal court?"

"Yes. After receiving the signatures, we will immediately return the edict to the palace, formally announce it in the Hall of the Kirin, and distribute copies to the central ministries, local governments, and the media. The following day, we will conduct the coronation ceremony."

Kagura's calm explanation was met with a cautious objection from one of the court officials.

"Isn’t this moving too quickly? Traditionally, the preparations for the coronation ceremony take at least two months."

Though it was a valid concern, Kagura shook her head.

"We cannot afford to hold the three members of the supreme war council hostage for two months. After we storm the palace and capture Prime Minister Kuonji, Supreme Commander Minamimasa, and Foreign Minister Bakuro, we must obtain their signatures and complete the coronation within a day to solidify the abdication. The new emperor will then declare a truce and offer peace terms to the enemy. Once the treaty is signed and the enemy withdraws, I will turn myself in and take full responsibility. There is no other way to end this war. Does anyone have objections?"

A heavy silence fell over the room.

No one could refute Kagura’s words. Every person in this room had already steeled themselves for death, but the weight of the rebellion they were about to commit—the coup against the current government—was now becoming undeniable.

It was nothing less than high treason.

Kagura’s plan was clear. Either the prince would be installed as emperor, and the war would end, or they would all be executed, and the war would continue.

One of the intelligence officers of the Imperial Guard broke the silence with a voice of doubt.

"The stalemate in the war is our main concern. Forgive me for saying this, but the situation now is very different from what it was a year ago. The St Vault Empire is clearly struggling against the Harmonia Empire on the Mitterland front. They are fighting a two-front war, and there’s a growing belief within our ranks that we could win this war if we continue. So, do we really need to carry out this coup?"

The unspoken question hung in the air: Is this revolution truly necessary?

Everyone in the room understood the implications of the officer’s words, even if he didn’t finish them aloud.

"That’s precisely why."

Kagura’s voice rose with determination.

"Now is the time. A year ago, if we had offered a truce, the empire wouldn’t have given us a second thought. They would have burned our country to the ground. But now, if we extend our hand, the empire will accept. The imperial army’s priority is to withdraw their 1.7 million troops from Akitsu and shift their focus to the Mitterland front. The empire is desperate to end the war in the island seas as quickly as possible."

Another officer interjected, his tone firm as he challenged Kagura.

"Are you saying we should give up a winning battle and extend a truce? How can we face the comrades who died fighting the empire? Only by continuing this war and slaughtering the enemy soldiers in Akitsu can we truly honour their sacrifices."

Beside him, an official nodded in agreement.

"We’ve endured this far, and now the tide is turning in our favour. Why would we throw away this chance and offer a hand to a dying enemy? I find it hard to believe that this is the right course of action."

Several others in the room murmured in agreement.

"How will the lower-ranking officers and soldiers react? They’ve fought tooth and nail for their fallen comrades, hoping for victory. Now that we’re on the verge of success, why should we back down? They won’t agree to this."

It was a valid argument.

Kagura clenched her fists as she listened to the heated discussion. She had already considered the points made by those who opposed her plan, countless times before arriving at this moment. She had weighed every argument, thought through every scenario, and now, her path was clear.

Her voice, when she finally responded, was surprisingly calm.

"If we truly wish to honour the fallen, if we want to remember the dead, then shouldn’t we—more than ever—end this meaningless conflict as soon as possible?"

What purpose could there be in continuing the largest folly in human history?

"If we care for our country, our families, and the people who are still alive, then shouldn’t we lay down our arms immediately?"

Images of the aftermath of the surprise attack on Misato flashed through Kagura’s mind. The charred remains of innocent civilians, thousands of corpses floating down the river, a young boy giving a sorrowful salute after his sister was gunned down by machine fire.

Burned bodies of parents lying beside their children, a little girl crouched silently beside her dead mother, a mother wandering through the ruins, carrying her dead child on her back.

The eyes of the children, who had lost their families, their homes, their food, and their hope—those eyes drove Kagura forward.

"If we care about the future, if we care about the children, then shouldn’t we do everything in our power to lay down our weapons?"

If there was any justification left for fighting in this era, it would be to fight for peace.

"Not just for our nation, but for St Vault, for the Hydrabard Archipelago, for every living being today. For everyone who will bear the future on their shoulders."

For even the smallest sliver of hope.

"I want to end this war here, now. That is all I wish for."

Kagura’s words, though soft, spread throughout the room like a quiet prayer. As she scanned the silent faces around her, her gaze filled with unwavering resolve.

"This is the reason I offer my life."

Her eyes conveyed her sincerity, her deep truth.

The room was utterly still.

No one could find the words to respond.

The weight of their nation’s current predicament was too heavy, the path forward too treacherous.

It was Commander Haruhiko Ougiya of the Kusanagi Air Force who broke the silence, his voice sharp and clear.

"The empire may be struggling, but so are we. We’re out of resources, the treasury’s empty, the fleet’s in ruins, and even if we beat the imperial army in one final battle, what happens when Uranos shows up? They’re probably delighted that St Vault and the royal forces are wearing each other down. The more we fight, the better it is for them. Once we’re both exhausted, all they’ll need to do is step in and strike. I agree with stopping now. This is the moment for a ceasefire."

The others exchanged glances and then nodded in agreement, their faces showing determination as they looked toward Kagura.

"I also support the ceasefire," another officer said. "The Kuonji cabinet is a doomed government. They only care about dragging the nation down with them. The only way to remove these fanatics is through force."

"We must fear Uranos now, not St Vault. As long as the earthbound nations fight each other, we’re playing into their hands. I believe our true course is to lay down our arms and stand united against Uranos."

"Perhaps this is our opportunity. By stopping the fight with St Vault, we can force them into conflict with Uranos while we rebuild."

One by one, voices of agreement filled the room. What had been an atmosphere of uncertainty now leaned decisively toward the ceasefire. Kagura exchanged a smile with Ougiya, reassured by the support of the Kusanagi Air Force, crucial for the coup.

"Then, is everyone here in agreement to move forward with the coup?"

With Kagura’s confirmation, the room settled into a shared sense of resolve.

There was no turning back now.

All that remained was to carry out the plan.

To bring down the Kuonji cabinet.

To walk the path of Shura.

"Now, I will present the outline of our operation. It is still in draft form, and I’ve assigned roles to each of your units. There may be some adjustments needed based on suitability, so I welcome any feedback."

Kagura unfolded the detailed plan she had developed with the Shinmei Corps, outlining the goals and actions for each unit on the day of the coup. The group leaned forward, scrutinizing the scroll written in ink, carefully examining the strategy.

Discussions erupted, as expected.

The individuals gathered here were all experts in their respective fields—military, administration, communications. Each brought their unique perspective, suggesting improvements for the swift and precise execution of the coup, from securing the capital to storming the palace, capturing the top officials, and securing the emperor’s seal and signatures for the abdication decree.

The original plan was thoroughly dissected, evolving into a more refined, more reliable strategy. These were seasoned professionals, and their passionate debates inevitably led to clashes of opinion. But the friction only served to sharpen the final plan. They worked tirelessly through the night, revising and perfecting every detail without sleep, and by the time dawn broke, they had still not finished. It took them until midday the following day, without a break, to finalize the plan.

As some of the participants lay on the tatami mats, snoring softly after finally succumbing to exhaustion, Kagura remained awake, continuously tweaking the plan. She would wake up her comrades to seek their opinions, ensuring that no gaps or miscommunications could jeopardize the mission.

Failure was not an option. If they failed, not only would everyone in this room be executed, but hundreds of thousands of soldiers on both sides would continue to die, and civilians would suffer, their homes destroyed, their children starved.

The future would be lost.

The soldiers of the royal army, the soldiers of the imperial army, and the innocent civilians—all of them.

I will not allow any more deaths.

Sitting cross-legged on the tatami, Kagura meticulously reviewed the plan, again and again. Her fellow conspirators, resting nearby, were oblivious as she made her final preparations.

This has to succeed.

I will change the world.

As she prepared for the coup that would soon come, one concern weighed heavily on her mind.

Crown Prince Daitoku, leader of the Imperial Guard.

The prince needed to remain completely uninvolved in the coup.

He had to ascend the throne as a pure and untainted emperor. Anything less would render the coup meaningless.

But Kagura knew that the kind-hearted prince might refuse to let his followers bear all the burden and might take actions that they hadn’t anticipated. Worst of all, the prince might even try to take responsibility for the treasonous acts committed by his loyal followers.

That could not happen.

The prince needed to abandon his followers. Kagura’s body could be thrown into a nameless grave, but the prince had to remain seated on the throne as a great and revered ruler, or the coup would fail in its purpose.

But as things stood, the prince would never abandon her.

Ever since childhood, the prince had treated Kagura as a close friend and equal, and there was no doubt that he would try to share the burden of her crimes. But Kagura could not allow that. She had to be the only one to be remembered as a traitor, while the prince would be honoured as a great emperor for centuries to come.

In order to avoid that outcome...

I must confront him directly.

I must erase my existence from the prince’s heart.

With that resolve, Kagura made her decision.

"Let’s take a look at Misato."

After listening to Kagura’s appeal in his office, Crown Prince Daitoku stood up, inviting her to join him.

Without any attendants, the two of them climbed to the top of the watchtower they had frequented since childhood.

From twenty meters up, they had a panoramic view of the ruined capital, illuminated by a magnificent sunset. The layered clouds stretched across the sky like a furnace, with the sun caught in the hearth. Rays of golden light streamed through the clouds, soaring towards the zenith. Further from the horizon, the clouds took on soft hues of purple, pale pink, and crimson, gently drifting above Kagura and the prince.

Standing in his imperial guard uniform, the prince gazed lovingly over the city of Misato, bathed in the evening glow, and spoke without turning to Kagura.

"When we were children, I trusted you because you never let me win."

Kagura remained silent, watching his back. He’s grown even thinner, she thought.

"All my sparring partners, mindful of my status, always held back. Did they really think I wouldn’t notice? They praised me with false compliments, but I wasn’t improving. Only you came at me seriously. Only you truly challenged me. That’s why I kept you close."

A warm summer breeze, carrying the scent of grass and a faint chorus of insects, passed between them. It was a nostalgic wind, tinged with memories.

"You never cared about my title. You treated me as an equal, as someone walking the same path of the sword. Do you know how much that saved me?"

Kagura wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t come.

The emotion rising within her threatened to break her composure, and she feared speaking would unleash it.

So she stood there in silence, watching the prince’s frail back.

The attendants had told her that since the war began, the prince had refused to eat anything other than the same food as the common people. When they tried to serve him fish or meat, he scolded them and only accepted humble meals of potatoes, rice, and scraps of vegetables. He had renounced all luxury, engraving the suffering of his people onto his very body as he searched for a way to end the war.

It was because of that kindness that Kagura, the Shinmei Corps, and the Imperial Guard had all decided to carry out the coup.

And it was because of that same kindness that she now had to deliver her most cruel request.

She had to ask him to forsake her as a traitor, so he could stand alone as the hero.

She had to ask him to turn a blind eye to the comrades who would shed their blood, sweat, and tears for this revolution, so he could ascend the throne and lead the nation to a peaceful future.

There was no more heartbreaking plea she could make.

"I live to serve the people of this country."

Still without turning to face her, the prince spoke toward the sunset over Misato.

His voice was composed, but the anger he was trying to suppress could be felt in every word. Perhaps that was why he hadn’t faced her—he couldn’t hide the fury from his expression.

"I will sacrifice myself and offer my soul to the people so that they may know eternal peace. That is why I am a member of the royal family."

The prince’s voice remained calm, but the undercurrent of frustration was unmistakable. His pride as a member of the Keiken had been wounded.

Kagura, born into the "dark house" of the Murasaki family, who had served the royal family for over a thousand years, understood their pain better than anyone. The Keiken Dynasty had been fated from birth to renounce personal joy and freedom, dedicating their entire lives to the people. There had surely been unimaginable struggles, but they had never shown their suffering, quietly praying for peace for their people.

To Kagura, the prince’s too-thin back no longer looked angry—it seemed to be weeping.

The words of conviction were spun toward the city of Misato.

"I will abandon no one."

She had expected him to say that.

"Not a single soul shall die in vain."

Because he was, above all, a kind and compassionate person.

"I will not let you become tainted or die. After making the people suffer so much, allowing someone close to me to die as a traitor is beyond even the duties of royalty."

The tremor in his voice—was it from anger, or sorrow? The summer clouds passed through the sky, their forms shifting against the increasingly reddened backdrop.

"Are you asking me to become a beast?"

Slowly, the crown prince turned to face her.

It was a face more contorted with strain than any she had ever seen on her childhood friend.

Kagura concealed the tears welling within her heart. How many bodyguards could say they were fortunate enough to receive such words from a prince? If she could, she would have fallen to her knees right then and there, trembling with gratitude, weeping in thanks for such overwhelming kindness. It would have been such a relief if she could.

But here and now, if he were to sense her true feelings, all the efforts she and her comrades had built would be undone, crumbling to dust.

Thus, she had to laugh off his sincerity with a smile.

Steeling herself, Kagura composed a gentle smile and delivered her rehearsed reply.

"Yes, Your Highness, you will have to become a beast."

She spoke lightly, making sure her words betrayed nothing of her true feelings.

"If you say you’ve banished me, then you may very well become a beast."

Because she knew the tears he had shed for his people.

"In the grand scheme of things, from the heavens above, I will be seen as a saint who sacrificed herself for the country, while Your Highness will be a sinner who abandoned his vassal."

He had endured so much, suffered alongside his people, to the point of emaciation.

That is why I entrust my life to you.

"I will not surrender this victory. Your Highness, you must draw the short straw."

For the sake of the hundreds of thousands, the millions, who still live.

For the sake of a future of abundance.

"When your duties in this world are done and you ascend to the heavens, I will offer my apologies then. Until that day, I ask that you endure this hardship."

With a calm and resolute smile, Kagura spoke.

"The duties of this world are thankless and painful, but when you return to the skies, your burdens will be lifted. In the heavens, there are no distinctions of rank."

She spoke as playfully as she could, like a breeze in the summer wind. She carefully masked the tears threatening to spill from her eyes, ensuring they remained hidden.

"In the boundless sky, we will cross swords again. I will bear all of Your Highness’s grievances with my blade. Let your anger toward me be fully unleashed then."

For there is no one else but you who can bring an end to this war and deliver peace to the people.

Please, abandon me. Cast me into a nameless grave.

Do not offer me a single flower.

"Even if you draw the short straw, walking the path of selflessness for the people is Your Highness’s destiny. I trust you will fulfill that duty."

You are so kind, so gentle, that I trust you will even honour my selfish request.

Part 12 (Part 3 of Volume 8)

The capital city of Pleiades tilted out of view, vanishing from sight.

The world sank into the summer sky.

A single sigh escaped from Mio Syira's lips.

How long had it been since she last flew? It had been about three years since she had flown in an airship, ever since being brought to Pleiades. During her time at the Air Hunt Officer Academy, flying had been a regular part of her life. Now, the sky felt so nostalgic, so dear, that her vision blurred with emotion.

Imperial Calendar Year 1351, July, the Urano Capital, Pleiades—

It had been three years since she betrayed her comrades, the "Seven of Eriadore," and fled the burning Air Hunt Island aboard the Uranos airship. The pain, which she thought would fade over time, still smouldered within her. At any moment, a spark could ignite it, burning away her inner self.

The deafening roar of the rotors reached her ears from the wings of the airship. This cutting-edge craft, capable of both vertical take-off and landing on land and water, had been deployed to Ulysses Palace three days ago. The Countess of Ulshyrra had expertly handled the objections from the palace guards and the Pleiades Air Squadron, registering it as the official aircraft of Queen Nina Viento, with today's flight being its inaugural test.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Nina, strapped into the co-pilot seat at the front of the craft, echoed sentiments similar to Mio’s own. Nina, who had once aspired to be an airship pilot on the flying island of Isla, likely still cherished the skies. Reiner Beck, who was piloting, responded with his usual casual grin.

"Not as beautiful as you, Lady Nina!"

"Ah... haha..."

"It'd be perfect if I could keep flying with you forever, Lady Nina. A date in the sky, yeah?"

Before Nina could respond, Mio leaned forward from the navigator’s seat just behind the pilot and smacked Reiner on the back of his head.

"Ow! What the hell was that for? Jealous much?"

"Jealous of whom, exactly? Lady Nina, I'm sorry, he's an idiot. He doesn't know how to talk properly..."

As she apologized, Nina giggled softly. When Nina was dressed in formal attire, she conversed like a queen. But once her daily duties ended, and she removed her silver hair extensions and elaborate outfits, she became Claire Cruz, Mio’s friend. That was the rule Mio had set. However, Reiner casually addressed Queen Nina Viento without any proper respect, yet Nina never chastised him and instead smiled, a trace of laughter still lingering.

"You two are quite close, aren’t you?"

"Not really. But if I leave him alone, he just does whatever he wants... like that painting..."

Mio pointed to the sides of the aircraft with a frown.

Nina didn't lose her smile.

"I actually like it. It’s convenient to identify this craft from a distance, and I think it’s quite fitting."

"But why did it have to be a "hummingbird"? It's supposed to be your personal aircraft, Lady Nina."

Mio shot Reiner a sideways glance, her tone sarcastic. As she mentioned, Reiner had personally painted a "hummingbird" on both sides of the craft—an illustration of a bird with wings like a bee, a brilliant sheen of blue and green feathers, short legs, and an overly long beak. Surprisingly, Reiner had some artistic talent, and the artwork was impressive enough to even surprise Mio. But did it really need to be on Nina’s personal aircraft?

"It’s useful, trust me. I guarantee it’ll come in handy someday."

Reiner, still gazing ahead at the sky, maintained his usual nonchalant tone. Mio crossed her arms, assuming a professor-like stance.

"Explain your reasoning."

"My gut feeling."

"Pathetic. Isn’t your boss, Hachidori, angry about this? You did that without asking permission."

"Eh? He wasn’t thrilled, but he didn’t stop me. He hasn’t been feeling great lately, it seems."

"...He has moods?"

Normally, Hachidori would have taken control and forced Reiner to stop, but apparently, he didn’t this time. Perhaps he had his reasons.

Thinking about Hachidori was always perplexing. Harsh, strict, and treating Mio as less than human, yet half a year ago, when Mio was injured protecting Nina, Hachidori had a wicked look on his face as he kicked enemies aside, encouraged the wounded Mio, and even gave her a blood transfusion. For a moment, Mio wondered if Hachidori was actually kind, but after Mio recovered, his inhuman treatment resumed with relentless demands.

Sighing through her nose, Mio settled back into her seat and stared out the window. Below them was land. According to the celestial navigation data they had painstakingly gathered, they were now over the central part of the Mitterland continent, likely in the territory of the St Vault Empire...

She searched the land for some recognizable landmark, but just as she did, the radio crackled to life.

"Please do not stray further from Pleiades. We cannot guarantee your safety."

Looking up at the sky, Mio saw the pilot of a Pleiades Air Squadron fighter, giving them a stern gaze from his cockpit. Glancing around, she noted the dozen or so Uranos fighters patrolling around them, and Reiner’s face darkened with slight irritation.

"We’re obviously safe. Do they think we’re trying to escape?"

"They're just saying not to act recklessly. It’d be a problem for Demistri if Lady Nina had too much freedom in the skies..."

They had been strictly instructed not to fly beyond a thirty-kilometre radius from Pleiades. This was the limit imposed by the Pleiades Air Squadron commander, who claimed that any further, and they would not be able to guarantee the queen’s safety in case of an attack, which was a thinly veiled excuse. In reality, it was likely Demistri or the Church of Illustriali pulling strings to keep Nina under surveillance. As long as she stayed confined within the heavily monitored Ulysses Palace, her movements could be easily tracked, but once she was airborne, that became impossible. They had avoided letting the caged bird fly free, but after a year and a half of daily persistence, Nina had managed to gain genuine supporters within the Uranos court, making it far more difficult to reject her demands. The provision of a queen’s personal airship was a testament to her growing influence in the court.

"Well, I suppose it will make getting around Pleiades more convenient and secure. Let’s head back for today."

At Nina’s prompting, Mio relayed their compliance to the escort commander over the radio. The queen’s personal airship turned back toward Pleiades, tilting its rotors for the return flight.

The immense floating city of Pleiades swelled into view through the windscreen.

From the ground, it was hard to grasp its size, but looking down from above at this massive island floating 2,000 meters in the air, one could feel a sense of awe and fear. The overwhelming scale of Uranos' grand doctrine, "Heaven and Earth Dominion," seemed somehow plausible when viewed from above Pleiades. Surrounded by thirty escort airships and battlecruisers, and with more than a thousand fighter jets ready to launch from the surface, this indomitable fortress seemed invincible. Neither the St Vault Empire nor the Hydrabard Archipelago, nor even the Akitsu Federation, could possibly muster the strength to capture it.

The airship touched down on the rooftop helipad of Ulysses Palace. Reiner carefully hovered, then lowered the craft until the landing gear scraped the stone surface. Even the ever-scowling Ignacio emerged slowly from the tail gunner seat, and the four of them—queen and entourage—made their way back inside.

The interior of the sprawling palace, with its endless wings and extravagant design, was a labyrinth of mismatched rooms and uneven floors. Whether this was for artistic purposes or to thwart potential invaders was unclear, but one thing was certain: navigating the palace without getting lost was nearly impossible. Mio rarely ventured beyond the Ulysses quarters, so if left alone, she was confident she would get hopelessly lost. Her only lifeline was Ignacio, who had spent countless hours exploring the palace and drawing up his own maps.

As they walked, Ignacio scolded Reiner, who was dawdling at the rear, all while looking smugly pleased with his mastery of the palace layout. Reiner, disgruntled but unable to argue, followed grudgingly, taking note of key landmarks to help orient himself later. For someone who had no time to explore the palace as thoroughly as Ignacio, Reiner—or rather, Hachidori, observing everything from within him—needed to memorize the route to and from the Ulysses quarters.

The "Heavenly Shrine" was located in the central main building of the Ulysses Palace, which could be considered its main hall. Several wings had been added through expansion work, turning it into a complex and mysterious labyrinth. Demistri's inner palace was located behind the main hall, separated from the outside world by a wall and covering a space about the size of two baseball fields. There was only one entrance at the front, and the two-meter-high stone wall completely hid the interior of the inner palace.

As they stepped out of the main hall, into the night garden, and gazed at the stone wall and the spires and chapel-like buildings beyond, Kiliai spoke happily.

“Look. Just the atmosphere is already erotic, right?”

“I don’t really know how to respond to that.”

“Inside, it’s even worse. You see, Demistri is rumoured to be the most erotic of the royal bloodline. He has no practical skills, but his lust is said to be double that of all previous kings combined. A true monster of desire.”

“I really don’t want to get close to him…”

“There’s no problem if you’re wearing these outfits. They’ll just think we’re concubines too.”

The two were already dressed in their prepared costumes. However, the outfits barely covered their chests and hips, leaving their shoulders, legs, backs, and even the area near their collarbones exposed. The fabric itself was also extremely thin, making Mio feel very uncomfortable.

“What’s the target?”

“Apparently, Demistri is somewhere around. We’ll find him, watch his perverted show, and then go home and laugh about it.”

“How depressing.”

“We’re not leaving until we watch the whole show! Let’s get pumped!”

With a heavy sigh, Mio resigned herself to the situation. However, she couldn’t figure out how they were planning to sneak in. The guards were watching the front and back entrances of the stone wall, so they couldn’t just walk in. If there were any workers going in or out, they could try to blend in, but it was late at night, so that wasn’t likely. It wasn’t as if the concubines, who were practically birds in a cage, would be going out anytime soon.

“How are we getting in?”

“Who do you think I am?”

Kiliai moved upwind of the less-guarded back entrance, pulled a small incense burner from her pouch, sprinkled several substances onto the incense wood, and started burning it. The rising purple smoke carried by the wind reached the guards at the back entrance.

“Don’t breathe it in.”

Mio nodded and covered her nose and mouth with her sleeve. Before long, the guards began to rub their eyes suspiciously, as if trying to ward off something invisible, waving their hands in front of their faces.

“Now.”

Kiliai and Mio silently approached the back entrance and slipped past the blinking guards, sneaking into the inner palace.

Looking back, the guards were still rubbing their eyes and swatting at invisible insects, showing no signs of noticing them.

"It’s a kind of narcotic smoke. They won’t notice our infiltration."

Kiliai whispered proudly. She was said to be a poison specialist, but it seemed she had a talent for handling all kinds of drugs. As expected of a member of Patriotis, she effortlessly completed the infiltration task.

Mio’s intuition whispered that this might come in handy someday.

"Can I make that smoke too?"

"Oh? You want to make it? That’s unusual."

"Yeah. It seems useful."

"I could teach you. It’s essential for infiltration techniques."

Mio nodded and began observing the mansion.

The torchlights illuminated the buildings inside the inner palace.

The complex was a medieval-style fortress, with corridors running around the perimeter, courtyards, spires, and small detached houses with triangular roofs, all intricately combined with stone structures. The strange shapes silhouetted against the starry sky in the orange light were eerily reminiscent of mythical monsters.

"Now it’s like a sightseeing tour. If anyone stops us, just say we got lost. Let’s take our time and assess Demistri’s fetishes."

Mio swallowed the words, I don’t want to assess that, and began exploring the inner palace with Kiliai.

The mansion was crisscrossed with corridors, and the faint scent of incense wood burning inside lingered in the air. The sound of fountains and streams drawn from outside could be heard in the garden, and elegant two-story houses were scattered here and there. Lights were on inside, and occasionally, the sound of women’s voices could be heard. Demistri probably visited these buildings at his whim, spending time with his concubines whenever he pleased.

“That building at the far end looks suspicious.”

Kiliai pointed to a building in the shadow of the spires. It had a triangular roof reminiscent of a chapel, and the seven-story structure stood out. From the peak of the triangular roof, something eerie seemed to be wafting into the starry sky.

"Let’s find him quickly and get out of here."

Feeling that staying here any longer would allow something unpleasant to seep into her skin, Mio urged Kiliai, and they headed towards the suspicious chapel.

"There he is! They’re doing it!"

After almost an hour of exploring the chapel, sneaking through narrow hallways and staircases, occasionally passing by guards and concubines while keeping a straight face, they reached the grand hall on the fifth floor. Kiliai excitedly whispered, pulling Mio behind a pillar. Mio nervously peeked out from behind the pillar to observe the scene in the hall.

Under the thick smoke, colourful candles placed on the floor illuminated the nearly naked bodies of about twenty concubines from all angles, casting long, flickering shadows. Exotic rugs decorated with tigers and dragons had pillows and woollen blankets carelessly thrown about. The women, moaning obscenely, embraced each other, laughed in high-pitched voices, or held pipes in their mouths, seemingly consuming hallucinogens.

Mio felt terrified. Just inhaling the sweet, rotting scent of this incense wood made her feel defiled. Decadence and decay roiled in the darkness like a bubbling mass.

Silhouettes of men and women could be seen through the thin velvet curtains hanging from the ceiling.

Mio couldn’t make out what positions they were in. Four or maybe five men and women seemed to be intertwined. How such shadowy figures were even formed, she couldn’t understand. The moaning and groaning coming from the intricate shadows sounded like something from creatures that had abandoned their humanity.

She felt nauseous.

She pitied the women here, feeling they were miserable and unfortunate. She wanted to free them all and take them to a sunlit field.

"That shadow is Demistri. There’s another man with him. Who is it?"

Kiliai whispered excitedly. Mio desperately wanted to leave, but she couldn’t disobey their teacher’s orders. She crawled toward the velvet curtain.

The sweet, dangerous scent of aphrodisiacs reached her nose. Mimicking Kiliai’s earlier trick with the narcotic smoke, she covered her nose and mouth with her sleeve to avoid inhaling too much. Trying not to make any noise, she slipped between the half-naked women lying on the rugs and crept closer to the edge of the curtain, listening carefully.

The voice sounded familiar.

"…Zenon?"

"…Seems like it."

The man with Demistri appeared to be Zenon Kavaris, the Director of the Urano Intelligence Bureau, and the superior of both Mio and Kiliai. Mio’s fear intensified. Memories of the humiliation once inflicted by this superior resurfaced on her bare skin, and she instinctively covered herself with a blanket from the floor.

Kiliai glanced back at Mio, smiling mischievously.

"Bullseye. We’re going to hear some juicy gossip…"

Then, without hesitation, she reached out, hugged Mio, and pressed their bodies together.

"…Hey…!?"

"We’re imitating the other women. If we do this, we won’t get caught."

Indeed, some of the concubines were embracing each other, but Mio found it incredibly uncomfortable.

"We might hear state secrets at this rate…"

It was something they had learned in their espionage training—high-level information always came from the centre of power. Demistri and Zenon were at the core of Urano. They might overhear something invaluable.

The two pressed one ear against the curtain while pretending to sleep, focusing on Demistri and Zenon’s conversation…

While tormenting one of the concubines, Zenon was reporting top-secret information collected, classified, and analysed by the Intelligence Bureau to Demistri, the Supreme Commander of the Urano Army. This grand hall in the inner palace served as Demistri’s office, where he almost always indulged in debauchery while receiving reports in one ear.

Forcing the now-unconscious toy into a grotesque position, Demistri lazily repeated the name mentioned in Zenon’s report.

“Fana Levamme?”

He muttered the name suspiciously, speaking languidly while tangled with his toy in a ridiculous position.

“She’s the head of the Levamme government, right? What could she possibly hope to achieve now?”

Zenon, also entwined in an obscene position, responded.

“She seems to have finally recognized our threat. For nearly twenty years, they’ve prioritized economics and diplomacy over military affairs, establishing a friendship with the Imperial Amatsukami government, with whom they’ve had long-standing ties. While they’ve neglected their military, their economic growth has been remarkable. If Empress Fana decides to act, within a few years, they could field a fleet to rival ours. While democracies are less likely to start wars, once they’re determined, they can quickly build a formidable military.”

In a grotesque position beyond description, Demistri responded,

“Their military delay won’t be so easily made up. Once we conquer the archipelago, we’ll march in and crush them.”

“As you wish. It seems that the vanguard units from both Levamme and Amatsukami have already merged with the Second Isla Fleet, but that’s just a token force from Fana to Isla. It won’t have much impact on the overall situation.”

“They must have realized they can’t win without cooperation. But it’s already too late.”

“Incidentally, Fana is said to be a beauty, known as the "Saint of the Western Seas."”

“How old is she?”

“She’s been involved in government for nearly twenty years, so she’s at a certain age. But they say she’s only grown more beautiful with time.”

“Hmm. In that case, once we crush Levamme, I might add her to my inner palace.”

“As you command. As long as we prevent coordination between Levamme, the archipelago, and Balesteros, there won’t be any problems. If we isolate each faction, your fleet will have no trouble destroying them one by one.”

Demistri reached for another toy, connecting it to the one he had been playing with. A scream-like cry once again shook the velvet curtains.

“I want to take control of the Archipelago first. What are the movements of the St Vault Army that landed on the Akitsu Continent?”

“They are locked in a standoff with the Crown Prince's Imperial Army at the southern front and cannot move. If they start to retreat, the Imperial Army will immediately pursue them and completely annihilate them. This is a blessing for us. If the 1.7 million soldiers of the Imperial Army complete their retreat and land back in Mitterland, we will have to be prepared for significant losses, but for now, they are self-destructing without us needing to lift a finger.”

“A fitting end for the lowly people. Once we destroy the Second Isla Fleet and the St Vault Empire Fleet in a naval battle, both the Hydrabard Archipelago and the Akitsu Continent will fall in no time.”

“You are correct. In a few months, the new Archipelago Fleet will be ready. Last month, our Archipelago Fleet suffered damage from the Isla Fleet, but we have significantly strengthened our forces by integrating them with the Kai Andros Fleet. It could be called the Second Archipelago Fleet. Even if the Isla Fleet and the St Vault Fleet were to cooperate, they would not be able to match our Archipelago Fleet.”

“What is the status of the Isla Fleet?”

“They are currently anchored across the Hydrabard Archipelago under a treaty with the Kingdom of Sylvania. Most of the ships require repairs, but due to a lack of docks, their recovery won’t be complete until next year. By then, our new Archipelago Fleet will be ready, making it an ideal time to strike.”

“By next year, the Archipelago will be in our hands. After individually subjugating Balesteros and Levamme, within a few years, the long-held dream of our people will be realized.”

The dominion of heaven and earth.

Urano’s two-thousand-year-old dream was now within reach.

“At present, our naval power exceeds that of all other nations combined, and our air power is superior to all air forces on the ground. In other words… if we fight, the world will bow before you, Your Excellency.”

Demistri nodded in satisfaction and shifted the conversation to the matter he was most obsessed with.

“And is it true that the Second Isla Fleet was formed by Nina's lover?”

He emphasized the word "lover" with disdain. Zenon stopped inspecting his toy and lifted his lips into a smile.

“It is true. There are fools in every country, it seems.”

Demistri snorted harshly, blowing air onto the toy, and his face twisted in displeasure.

“That detestable fleet was organized solely to reclaim Nina Viento?”

“The financiers had different intentions, of course. But the story of a love affair between the fool—Crown Prince Kal-el Albus of the former Balesteros Empire—and Nina was used to rally the public. After all, they were once bitter enemies, so it was convenient for stirring up the masses. As a result, that ridiculous fleet was set sail.”

“So Nina is waiting for the arrival of the Isla Fleet?”

“Without a doubt. She ascended to the throne to avoid a battle with the Isla Fleet.”

“That woman dares to mock me…!!”

Demistri directed his rage at the toy, and the tangled bodies of the concubines let out a mixture of moans and screams.

“I won’t forgive her… I will make her regret ever trying to steal the throne from me for such foolish reasons… In the name of the honour of all previous kings, I will make her pay…!!”

It’s starting, Zenon thought, feeling a mix of exhaustion and disdain, though he kept his expression neutral while indulging in the sordid pleasure before him.

Soon, it would come out—Demistri’s twisted and pathetic dream, which had warped so badly it made Zenon sick to even listen to.

"Nina Viento!! I will make you my wife!!"

Demistri’s impassioned declaration shook the grand hall. He seemed to gain courage from his own words, throwing himself at the toy before him with a beastly expression.

How had his desires become so twisted, to the point where this was his goal? Zenon found it incomprehensible. But Demistri was serious. He truly believed that after dethroning Nina Viento, he would take her as his wife.

Is he in love with her?

That thought even crossed Zenon’s mind.

This pitiful prince, who had been mocked and compared to his talented younger half-brother since childhood and had indulged in lust without ever being loved, now, of all people, had fallen in love with his arch-enemy Nina Viento, the one he should be sending to the execution block. It seemed that his hatred of her pure and untainted demeanour had somehow twisted into romantic feelings.

“I will take Nina Viento, body and soul, right in front of that bastard Kal-el Albus…!!”

His boiling words spilled out into the stifling atmosphere. Without any awareness of how twisted his heart had become, Demistri desired nothing more than Nina's body and soul.

“I will not let Kal-el have her!! You will be my bride!!”

All of Demistri’s dark desires poured into the toy in front of him. Even as the pleas for mercy layered over one another, Demistri seemed intent on releasing all his pent-up, inexpressible emotions through his actions.

He can’t even control himself.

He’s losing his mind over Nina.

As Zenon watched the prince’s grotesque behaviour from the corner of his eye, a mix of contempt and pity filled his heart. No matter how much debauchery Demistri indulged in within this inner palace, the emptiness inside him would never be filled. What Demistri sought could not be found anywhere in this inner palace.

Fleeing the grand hall as if running for their lives, Mio and Kiliai managed to escape the inner palace. They jumped over the stone wall like startled rabbits and returned to the main hall.

Breathing heavily, they hurried back to the servant’s dining room in the Heavenly Shrine, reflecting on everything they had just overheard.

“This is bad… I mean, we just heard something far more interesting than we ever expected…”

In a tone that was somewhere between satisfaction and regret, Kiliai lamented.

Mio, her lips pale and trembling, said,

“That pervert wants to marry Nina… What on earth!?”

Just from the shadow play they had witnessed through the curtain, Mio had understood how grotesque Demistri’s tastes were. The mere thought of Nina being subjected to that made every cell in Mio’s body boil with disgust.

“What is going on? Why are you causing such a commotion?”

The head maid, Ulshyrra, entered the dining room, holding a candlestick. By now, it was late at night, and there was no one else in the dining room. The moment Ulshyrra, who Mio found intimidating, walked in, Kiliai comically waved her hands and fled to the servants' quarters. Kiliai often engaged in bizarre antics around the Heavenly Shrine, which had put her on Ulshyrra’s bad side.

“Well, we just overheard some shocking information while sneaking into the inner palace for training…”

Left alone, Mio explained everything she had just witnessed to Ulshyrra. Ulshyrra sat down in a chair, her stern expression growing even more severe.

“I see… The Grand Marshal is in love with Her Majesty…”

“I-I don’t know if we can call it love! But he does want to marry her…”

“It’s the same thing. Her Majesty cannot remain a virgin queen forever. Proposals of marriage from various kings and nobles have been pouring in.”

This was news to Mio, though it made sense. After all, whoever married Queen Nina Viento would be tied to the Urano royal family and could secure their lineage's prosperity for generations. In Demistri’s case, it wasn’t about bloodlines but about Nina herself, making his marriage desire arguably more genuine.

“If the Grand Marshal marries Her Majesty, her life will be safe. It would also resolve many political issues. For Urano, it would be a favourable outcome…”

Ulshyrra’s words made Mio pale as she quickly retorted.

“T-That might be true! But what about Nina's feelings…?”

Her heart belongs to Kal-el, not Demistri. Mio was about to say when Ulshyrra’s words cut her off.

“Her Majesty’s position requires her to prioritize the well-being of many over her own personal feelings. If she marries the Grand Marshal, all the malicious forces opposing her will become our allies. The threat to her life will vanish, and her political influence will increase.”

Ulshyrra chose her words carefully, lost in thought.

Her logic was sound. That much was clear. But…

Nina was waiting for Kal-el. She became queen of an enemy nation to save him. If she became Demistri’s, the six years of struggle she endured in Pleiades would lose all meaning.

Ulshyrra understood this as well. She had served Nina faithfully for six years, almost like a mother caring for her own daughter. Her desire for Nina's happiness was surely stronger than Mio’s. If Kal-el came and married Nina, there could be no better ending.

But for now, that possibility seemed slim.

At this rate, Urano would achieve "dominion over heaven and earth" within a few years. The ground nations were too busy fighting amongst themselves to form any alliances, and once the new Archipelago Fleet was complete, no single force would be able to resist them. If Nina abandoned the small hope she had in Kal-el and accepted Demistri’s proposal, at least she could live in peace for the rest of her life.

But still, that just…

Mio was about to voice her numerous objections when Ulshyrra suddenly asked.

“…The Isla Fleet is anchored in the Kingdom of Sylvania, correct?”

“Yes, that’s what I heard. It’s a strange coincidence, but Queen Elisabeth is a friend from my officer school days. She has probably already met with Kal-el by now.”

Ulshyrra thought for a moment before making a request of Mio.

"After your bath, Mio, please inform Her Majesty about the Isla Fleet being in the Hydrabard Archipelago."

Mio nodded.

"As for the Grand Marshal's affections, you may subtly inform Her Majesty in private. It’s better for her to know than not."

"Understood."

"Make sure to observe Her Majesty's state carefully when you speak. Avoid bringing up heavy topics if she seems particularly tired."

Mio agreed. Ulshyrra’s consideration for Nina was always detailed and thorough. In situations requiring political judgment like today, consulting Ulshyrra often resulted in clear answers, something Mio deeply appreciated.

As she began preparing for the bath, Mio pondered how to convey the information without making it too burdensome. She concluded that it would be easier to talk when Claire was being herself, rather than when she was acting as Queen.

After removing her silver wig and shedding the regal attire that exuded holiness, Nina Viento became Claire Cruz once again after her bath. In this moment before sleep, she could relax and relieve her body and mind from the day’s exhaustion.

Mio brewed Claire’s favourite herbal tea, bringing it to the white table on the balcony. Claire, in her nightwear, took a deep breath, enjoying the aroma while gazing at the summer constellations. She took a sip and sighed deeply.

"It’s delicious."

"You’ve worked hard today. The stars are beautiful tonight."

Mio sat across from her, sharing the moment. After a day of official duties, it had become a daily routine for Mio and Claire to indulge in light-hearted, trivial conversations as close friends.

Bathed in the starlight falling onto the balcony, Claire relaxed, her cheeks softening as the night breeze caressed her. Most of her day was spent in meetings with nobles and high-ranking officials, but now, in this brief moment, she could finally find peace.

"I flew today for the first time in a while… It felt so good."

"That airship was amazing. It would’ve been even better if Reiner hadn’t painted that weird picture on it."

"No, really, I liked it. I actually love it."

"Claire, you’re too nice. You should scold him sometimes. You know, like, "What do you think you’re doing to my airship?" or something."

Mio made a playful gesture, mimicking strangling Reiner, and Claire giggled. Mio had never seen Claire get angry with anyone, let alone raise her voice. Claire always remained calm, enduring her daily duties with a quiet, steady demeanour. The more time Mio spent with her, the more she cherished Claire. She wanted to make sure these moments gave her some relief, so Mio would always share light-hearted stories from the day to make her smile.

"You went into the inner palace?"

She decided to share that story too—about the series of events with Kiliai, their infiltration into the inner palace, what they saw, and their encounter with Demistri. As Mio recounted the details, Claire's expression grew more tense.

Listening intently to their eavesdropping on Zenon’s conversation, Mio eventually shared the most crucial piece of information.

"……………………"

Claire listened quietly as Mio told her about the Second Isla Fleet being anchored in the Kingdom of Sylvania. Mio had expected her to be more excited, but Claire remained as composed as ever. Mio added more details.

"According to Zenon, it seems that part of Urano's Archipelago Fleet was completely defeated by the Second Isla Fleet. The damaged fleet is currently being repaired in the Kingdom of Sylvania, where my friend Elisabeth is queen… I was surprised, too. So, I think Elisabeth has probably already met with Kal-el."

Claire’s reaction remained quiet.

But—Mio noticed her eyes glisten ever so slightly with tears.

There was no way she wasn’t happy. But at the same time, the fact that the Urano Fleet was fighting the Isla Fleet weighed heavily on Claire. She had become queen to avoid conflict with the Isla Fleet, and now, to learn of a battle that she hadn’t known about likely made her feel powerless.

"That… is surprising."

Claire gave a short, quiet response, filled with complex emotions, before standing silently and walking toward the balcony railing, gazing up at the stars.

Mio remained quiet, watching Claire’s small back. She didn’t speak, knowing that Claire was likely sorting through the emotional storm within her. Even as a friend, there were feelings too complicated to understand, emotions swirling so intensely that they seemed to spill out from Claire’s small frame.

"I had no idea… I want to look into this a bit more."

Claire said this while still staring at the starry sky.

"Yeah. I’ll look into the Isla Fleet with Ulshyrra’s help. But maybe we shouldn’t tell Reiner or Kiliai. Zenon might find out."

"I’ve recently gotten to know some friendly members of parliament… I think they’ll help me find out more. Yes… I need to do my best too…"

After letting the night breeze blow over her for a while, Claire turned to face Mio. Her expression was unchanged, calm and gentle, her violet eyes filled with tenderness and sadness.

"You’re doing great, Claire. I think it’s amazing. It’s been only a year and a half since you became queen, but you’ve steadily gained more allies here. You’re doing so well…"

That was all Mio could manage to say. She wished she had something more meaningful to offer, but this was her honest feeling.

Claire sat down again, brought the herbal tea to her lips, and gave her usual soft smile.

"It’s only because everyone supports me. I couldn’t do it on my own."

"I hope I’m helping. By the way… I have some other news. Are you ready for it?"

"Huh? What is it?"

Mio exaggeratedly teased her, causing Claire to lean forward with a playful smile.

"Are you prepared for a shock? Ready?"

"What is it? A scary story?"

"Yeah. It’ll make your skin crawl."

"Ugh, no, I hate scary stories. But now I want to hear it. Tell me, tell me."

Claire laughed, grabbing Mio’s arm and shaking it eagerly. Seeing her like this, Mio figured it would be fine to share the rest of the story.

"So, Demistri… While talking with Zenon, he started throwing insults around as usual."

"Yeah, he complains about everything."

"And then… he brought up you. I figured he’d talk trash about you, like usual."

"He says horrible things to my face, so I don’t really care what he says behind my back."

"Really? To your face?"

"Yeah. During meetings, he’s awful. He makes a devilish face and criticizes everything I do. It used to make me furious and exhausted, but lately, I’ve started thinking, ‘Wow, he’s really thorough. It must be tough keeping up with this. He’s got such passion.’"

Claire spoke with an innocent expression, almost in admiration. Mio couldn’t help but feel sad, sensing the vast emotional disconnect between them.

"Oh… I see…"

"So, what’s the scary story?"

"Well… here it goes. Oh, maybe don’t drink anything right now. Did you drink?"

After gulping down her tea, Claire nodded with a tense expression, preparing for the shock. With the fear of a spit-take avoided, Mio finally revealed the truth.

"Demistri… suddenly got all excited and declared, ‘I will make Claire Viento my wife!!’"

Claire froze in place, still processing the words. Mio continued, nodding to encourage her.

"Apparently, Demistri wants to marry you."

"……………………"

Claire remained motionless, her expression blank.

Mio scrunched up her face in disgust, raising her fists and imitating Demistri’s outburst.

"He said, ‘I won’t let Kal-el have her! You will be my bride!!’"

"……………………"

"…Yep, that’s what he said. He’s serious. He really wants to marry you, Claire."

Mio watched Claire’s expression closely. Slowly, confusion began to spread across her face.

"The Grand Marshal… wants to marry me?"

Seeing Claire’s bewildered expression, Mio nodded seriously and replied.

"Yeah. He declared it with his fists raised. This is serious. He’s a pervert, and I’m sure he has all kinds of twisted ideas."

The image of the shadowy figures they had seen earlier resurfaced in Mio’s mind, sending a shiver down her spine. She instinctively hugged herself.

Claire lowered her head in thought for a while, then looked up again, still confused.

"When did he start feeling this way?"

"I’m not sure. Maybe he fell for you while he was tormenting you? Or perhaps he’s been bullying you because he liked you all along."

Claire tilted her head to the left, straightened up, then tilted it to the right.

"I thought he hated me."

"Maybe it’s the opposite. You know how they say the opposite of love isn’t hate, but indifference? Maybe the opposite of hate is love. He hated you so much that he thought about you constantly, and before he knew it, he was considering marriage."

Mio wasn’t sure if her explanation made any sense, but perhaps that’s just how emotions worked. Love could overwhelm someone unexpectedly, filling them up without any logic, and no amount of willpower could wash it away.

"I… guess that could be it."

"Yeah. Being disliked would still be better, but to be liked... what a disaster. I need to figure out how to make him hate me."

Claire sank into deeper thought, her expression becoming more serious than before, as if considering something important.

A long silence followed. Much longer than Mio had expected. And Claire’s expression grew more severe by the moment.

Mio began to feel afraid.

What if Claire was seriously starting to consider what Ulshyrra had mentioned earlier? What if she was thinking that by marrying Demistri, all the opposing members of the Senate would become her allies, and her political influence would increase? And maybe, just maybe, it would become easier to save the Isla Fleet… Could Claire possibly be thinking this?

"H-Hey, Claire, what are you seriously thinking about? Please, this isn’t something to seriously consider, right? Just say, 'I refuse,' and that should be the end of it, right?"

Terrified, Mio asked, but Claire didn’t respond, her head bowed, lost in deep thought.

Mio grew anxious. Perhaps it had been a mistake to bring this up. She had thought they would laugh about it and move on, but Claire seemed to be genuinely troubled by it.

"Hey, Claire? Please don’t think too much about this, okay? This should just be a ‘Wow, a creepy prince likes me, gross!’ kind of thing, right?"

Claire, still shaken, looked up at Mio with fearful eyes and spoke.

"But… what if… if I handle this right… the war could end."

A chill ran down Mio’s spine.

"How do I put this…? It’s not the nicest way to say it, but… if I play my cards right, the Senate would all side with me."

This was bad. Claire’s thought process was beginning to mirror Ulshyrra’s.

"If all the opposition became my allies… yeah. The war could end. I wouldn’t have to fight the Isla Fleet anymore. And no more Urano people or people on the surface would have to die…"

Claire’s eyes drifted into the void as she tried to make sense of her confused thoughts.

Mio felt the urge to cry.

How far was Claire willing to sacrifice herself? She was clearly not thinking about her own life at all.

It was heartbreaking for Mio, standing so close to her.

Mio took a deep breath and steeled her expression. Joking wouldn’t work anymore; she needed to speak seriously because the current, confused Claire wouldn’t understand anything else.

Claire is my best friend.

And as her best friend, Mio had to say it.

"Claire, that’s not okay. Absolutely not."

She spoke firmly, looking straight into Claire’s eyes.

"But… if I endure it… then people won’t have to die anymore… The people on the surface can live safely. If the war ends, the Isla Fleet won’t be wiped out and can return home…"

Claire’s thoughts were swaying. Her experience as a queen had led her to prioritize the world over herself. She had started to believe that if sacrificing herself could end the war, that’s what she should do.

Unable to contain herself any longer, Mio kicked back her chair, stood up, and marched over to Claire. She placed her hands on Claire’s elegant shoulders.

"Claire. I’m asking you for one thing."

Her eyes and voice were firm, as she made her request clear.

"…One thing?"

"Six months ago, you asked me for something, right? I did what you asked of me. So it’s fair that I get to ask you for something, right?"

Back when Mio had been injured while protecting Claire from an assassin’s gun, Claire had asked to become her friend. Mio had gladly accepted, and now, here they were, sitting together on the balcony, talking about everything.

"…Yes, of course. Ask away."

"Promise you won’t say no. Then I’ll ask."

Mio threw Claire’s own words from six months ago back at her.

"…Okay. I promise I won’t say no."

Claire nodded, her expression determined.

Mio took a deep breath and made her request to her best friend.

"Think about your own happiness."

That was all Mio asked of Claire.

It was such a simple thing to say—something that should be obvious to everyone. People act for their own happiness. But Claire couldn’t do that. Ever since she had been abandoned by her mother and called a witch as a child, she had grown to believe she had no value. As long as she could be of use to someone, she was quick to step aside and sacrifice herself. If it was for the greater good, she would throw herself away without a second thought.

She treated herself far too carelessly.

Mio cared deeply for Claire, and because she cherished her so much, she wished for only one thing.

"It’s okay for you to be happy."

Feeling overwhelmed, Mio knelt down and hugged Claire.

Who cares what happens to the world? If people want to keep killing each other, let them kill themselves into oblivion. Don’t put the weight of that foolishness on Claire’s shoulders.

I only have one wish.

That Claire, who has endured and carried so much, who has walked a path of pain and wounds, will find happiness.

I pray that Claire’s future ends with the happiest ending in the world.

"We were born to be happy."

The words came out of Mio’s mouth naturally.

And then she just held Claire tightly.

"…Mio."

After a while, Claire gently wrapped her slender arms around Mio’s back.

"Mio."

Her voice, calling Mio’s name, was filled with friendship and gratitude.

"…I understand. Because it’s Mio’s request… I’ll promise… I’ll be happy."

"Yes. Thank you. It’s a promise. If you break it, I’ll hate you."

"…Yes. I’ll keep it. Thank you. I’ll keep my promise…"

They clung to each other, tears welling up, supporting one another.

Claire was human too. Even she could waver when something unexpected and difficult came her way, shaking her beliefs. Mio just wished that Claire would share even a little of that burden, that she wouldn’t carry it all on her own. Mio wanted to help bear Claire’s pain and sadness.

She didn’t need to say that out loud—she conveyed it through the strength of her embrace.

One day, the Second Isla Fleet and Kal-el will come to this floating city. When that time comes, everything will be resolved, and they’ll all reach a happy ending, smiling together. Believing in that, Mio held Claire’s small body close, as if praying for that future.

Part 13 (Part 4 of Volume 8)

The reflection in the mirror showed me looking more perfect than ever.

My sharp, confident features, paired with a high-collared shirt, bow tie, and a starched child's tailcoat, gleamed even more strikingly. The servants complimented my appearance one after another, adjusting my hair with a comb as they completed their final check.

“We’re ready, Balthazar, Simon.”

Urged by my mother, I nodded and stepped out of the waiting room. My eight-year-old brother, Simon, staggered behind me, his clumsy steps reflecting his simpleminded nature.

Honestly, I wanted to get rid of him. What if my hero, whom I was about to meet, confused me with this foolish little brother, slurping down potato salad without even chewing? I couldn’t bear the thought.

"Be sure not to embarrass yourselves in front of your grandfather. Behave until the meal is over and don’t say anything unnecessary," my father warned both of us. He could have said that to Simon alone, but for some reason, I had to endure it too. I found it insulting. After all, I was ten years old now. I knew better. There was no way I would show disrespect to my grandfather, whom I only saw once a year.

With my heart racing, I made my way toward my grandfather's mansion’s grand dining room.

My new leather shoes were so polished that they reflected the light of the chandeliers. As I walked across the marble floor, the sharp clicks of my footsteps echoed through the gallery, which felt like walking through the ribcage of a dinosaur. Every piece of luxury, wealth, and glory that my grandfather had built in his lifetime was embedded in the lavish decor around us.

The massive dining table could seat at least thirty people. Golden candelabras were already lit. The grand dining room, reminiscent of those seen in church paintings, was filled with butlers standing in line, welcoming the four of us with solemn reverence. As we approached the table, a butler pulled out the chair, and once I stood in place, they pushed the chair back in. As expected, Simon plopped down into his chair, which a servant had to lift him into. How much of a fool could he be? I couldn’t understand why I had such a simpleminded brother.

Soon, the ornate doors on the opposite side of the room opened, and my hero entered, accompanied by three attendants.

Renior Berner.

My grandfather. My idol. It filled me with pride to be the grandson of such a great man. I wasn’t sure if Grandfather even remembered my name, but today, I was hoping he would. After all, I had come prepared with a special plan.

Standing up with my parents, I waited for Grandfather to take his seat at the head of the table before sitting down again. My father offered a congratulatory speech in honour of Grandfather's birthday, followed by a prayer of thanks to Saint Aldista. Then, the waiters brought out the appetizers.

The only ones talking during the meal were my parents and the attendants. My grandfather didn’t speak a word. Every time he brought a bite of food to his mouth, he grimaced as if it tasted horrible, not uttering a single word.

The three attendants filled in for his silence, smiling and chatting endlessly. They were the president of Berner Heavy Industries, the president of Berner Petroleum, and the head of Berner Bank. These three were not men of independent will; they were merely instruments to carry out my grandfather’s orders. With a flick of his finger, my grandfather controlled industry, oil, and finance—an invisible force capable of shaping the world, rivalling the great powers of the archipelago.

In short, the man seated before me was the centre of the world.

The thought filled me with excitement. If I could prove my abilities to my grandfather, perhaps I could one day sit beside him as one of his trusted aides, helping to reshape this meaningless world.

My heart raced so fast I could hardly contain myself. Up until now, I had silently watched from the sidelines, bidding farewell to my grandfather once a year without a word. But now I was ten years old. With my natural talents and hard work, I was certain I could impress him. I could make Grandfather look up, make him finally notice me.

I wanted him to see me.

After all, he was my idol, my lifelong goal, and my one true hero.

"Grandfather."

Unable to suppress the feelings that welled up within me, I called out to him from my place at the far end of the table.

The adults stopped talking at once, all eyes suddenly turning toward me.

I had only said one word, but my father stared at me like a statue, eyes wide, while my mother shook her head quickly in disapproval. The three attendants exchanged confused, bitter glances as if signalling their irritation.

Don’t say anything.

The adults’ expressions silently conveyed their message, hitting me squarely in the chest.

What do I care? These adults, dressed in fine clothes and putting on airs, were just puppets, machines controlled by my grandfather. They had no chance of understanding the great man that Grandfather was.

Only I could understand him.

Only I, who had been born with the same brilliant qualities as my grandfather, could truly understand him.

So, summoning all my courage, I voiced the question I had been preparing for so long, directed toward the man I so admired.

"Why don’t we build jet fighters?"

My words froze the already tense atmosphere even further.

Not only my parents and the attendants, but even the waiters seemed to turn into statues, frozen in place.

Only Simon continued slurping his soup, and my grandfather, grimacing at his pork chop, chewed away.

There was no answer. My grandfather seemed more interested in his pork chop than in my carefully crafted question.

I cleared my throat and continued.

"Instead of focusing on improving piston engines, we should invest in jet engine development. Considering the potential, it’s clear that all aircraft will eventually be powered by jet engines."

This was the conclusion I had reached after reading book after book of specialized texts in preparation for today.

My parents had no idea what I was talking about, but I was sure Grandfather would understand.

And when he did, he would finally look at me, pat my head, and smile.

"Balthazar," he would say. "Such wisdom at just ten years old. The attendants are all fools, but you… You are the perfect successor."

I was sure he would say something kind like that.

And then, I would dedicate my life to him, using all my abilities for his glory.

I had made up my mind, but then—

Grandfather, still staring at the broccoli on his plate, opened his mouth.

"Hey, brat."

The raspy, gravelly voice hung heavily in the air. He didn’t even look in my direction, so it was unclear who he was addressing. But judging by the words, it had to be aimed at Simon.

Simon, the fool, didn’t realize he was being called and was cutting his lettuce with a knife for some reason.

• He’s calling you, Simon.*

I nudged him with my elbow and whispered, but Simon, still focused on his lettuce, muttered:

• Brat means you, brother.*

True to his nature, Simon spouted nonsense. That couldn’t be right. There was no way Grandfather would call me a brat.

"How old are you, piss boy?"

Grandfather addressed his boiled carrots in the same raspy voice. Since he still wasn’t looking up, it wasn’t clear who he was speaking to, but surely "piss boy" was directed at Simon.

• He’s asking you. Just say you’re eight.*

• You should say you’re ten, brother. It’ll clear things up.*

As we whispered back and forth, I glanced at the adults. They were all frozen in place, mouths agape like statues, while Grandfather continued chewing his green beans with a disgusted expression.

There was no way Grandfather had called me a brat or a piss boy. It had to be Simon. So, I answered.

"My brother is eight. I’m ten."

Grandfather swallowed his green beans with a bitter, sour expression, then stabbed a fork into his potatoes. He still refused to look at me.

"Why jets?"

That dried-out, grating voice echoed through the hall again.

It wasn’t the voice I had imagined. I had thought Grandfather’s voice would be gentler, more kind, something that would envelop me. But in reality, it was the rasping voice of an old, wicked hag from a fairy tale.

"To win the war," I answered without hesitation. I could feel the pressure of Grandfather’s presence growing, but I wasn’t about to back down. I had to make him recognize my talents.

"And what will you do once you win the war?"

That wicked old hag’s voice demanded.

After the war? I hadn’t thought about that. But if I considered why wars were fought in the first place, the answer was obvious.

"Conquer the world."

It was the natural answer. The strong would subdue the weak, force them to submit, and make them obey. That’s how the real world worked.

Grandfather finally raised his head.

But instead of looking at my intelligent, dignified face, his gaze fell on my father, who had been frozen like a statue.

"What is his name?"

"Balthazar, sir."

"Send this brat to the battlefield as a medic-in-training."

There was a sharp crack as the frozen tension shattered, and my father straightened his back and accepted the order.

"At your command."

"Correct his personality. It doesn't matter if the original one breaks. Train him thoroughly until the stench of the battlefield seeps into his bones. And don't let this brat cross my sight until it's done."

Grandfather wiped his mouth with a handkerchief, and without waiting for the main course, kicked back his chair and stood up.

As the chair hit the table, a dish fell to the floor, shattering with a loud crash. His attendants jumped to their feet, standing so straight that their backs almost arched, as if trying to touch the ceiling.

For the first time, Grandfather finally looked at me, capturing my terrified face in his gaze.

But the expression on my hero’s face was nothing like what I had imagined. There was no trace of the love or pride I had hoped for, no warmth in his eyes that would embrace me. Instead, overwhelming hatred, disgust, and contempt poured out of his eyes, his ears, his nose, his lips—from every pore of his body, flooding the room.

Just before he left, Grandfather looked at me as if I were filth in a bucket and spoke these words:

"Monster."

The ground beneath my feet crumbled, like pieces of a puzzle falling apart.

The marble floor beneath me shattered, and my body began to fall, sinking into a pit of darkness. Deep, cold, and endless, this abyss of despair seemed to have no bottom.

As I fell, tears rolled down my cheeks.

They glimmered like pearls, rising upward, reaching for the light above, as I kept sinking deeper and deeper into the dark void.

All I ever wanted was to be seen by you. I just wanted you to praise me. So why, why am I being cast down to the depths of this abyss?

"Grandfather, why?"

As I fell, I reached out my hand toward the light.

"Why won’t you acknowledge me?"

There was no answer. Only more tears, sparkling as they raced upward toward the distant light.

Swallowed by the darkness, I turned my unbearable emotions into a scream.

"Even though I admire you so much."

The echoes of his dream turned into words as Balthazar opened his eyes.

Cold sweat dampened his pillow. For a while, he lay there in silence, staring at the cracked stone ceiling, listening to the creaking sound of the three-bladed fan turning.

An unforgettable residue of fear lingered.

He ground his teeth, trying to swallow the stench of death from the battlefield that had seeped into his very bones as he stared at the ceiling.

"Damn old man..."

The curse he spat out was a feeble attempt to mask the pain that had lodged itself deep within his soul.

By Renior's order, at only ten years old, Balthazar was sent as a trainee medic to tour the conflict zones of the Vestelant continent.

Two medics acted as his instructors, and disobedience was not an option. Even when he vomited everything in his stomach and begged for mercy through tears, they paid no heed. He was forced to transport wounded soldiers and corpses, change bandages, and treat the gravely injured. They drilled into him every skill required of a battlefield medic.

The smell of death on the battlefield was beyond description. Amid the stench of decay and burning, Balthazar had to collect the dismembered remains of soldiers—limbs, torsos, heads. He assisted in caring for severely wounded soldiers at the field hospital, administering morphine to those with shattered jaws, collapsed skulls, and faces disfigured beyond recognition. The sight of shredded bodies, especially those wounded by artillery, was unbearable. He cried as he changed the blood-soaked bandages and applied disinfectant to soldiers missing ears, noses, and mouths.

One of the tasks he was ordered to perform was prying open the mouths of the dead and extracting gold teeth with a knife. The gold was given as a reward to his fellow soldiers who had risked their lives in battle. Watching his comrades stash their enemies’ gold teeth into their pockets with blank expressions made him realize just how far he had been cast into the darkest reaches of humanity.

He was also given the duty of putting down crippled warhorses. He injected a solution into their necks and watched as the light slowly faded from their eyes—ten, twenty horses at a time—until he could hear his own mind breaking.

Though he never served on the front lines, Balthazar was targeted by a sniper from a cliff while treating the wounded behind the lines. The sniper aimed directly at the medics, and one of Balthazar’s instructors was shot through the temple right before his eyes. The remaining instructor quickly pulled Balthazar down to the ground, using the body of his dead colleague as a shield. The man, who had moments before been a terrifying force, turned into a lifeless barrier, riddled with bullet holes. As Balthazar lay there, listening to the sound of bullets striking the corpse, he wondered why he had to endure such a fate. It all began with that innocent question to Renior—"Why don't we build jet fighters?"—which had somehow led to this horrific consequence. He swore then that one day, he would kill his grandfather for this.

When he returned home after two and a half years of wandering through battlefields, all that remained in his soul were the smell of death from the field hospital and a burning hatred for his grandfather.

"I will never forgive you."

"I will return the cruelty you threw at me a thousandfold."

"I will crush your 'empire' and laugh in your face as you cry."

Lying on his bed, Balthazar pressed his palm against his face, reaffirming his life’s goal. He channelled his rage into energy. It was the only thing that allowed him to endure the gruelling work of outmanoeuvring the fools in the advisory staff.

For the past two months, Balthazar had spent his weekends on Santos Island, serving as a military advisor to the Sylvanian Kingdom’s army, and during the weekdays, he flew to Air Hunt Island to join the United Operations Command headquarters. There, he worked closely with staff officers, planning counteroffensives. His intellect had become indispensable to both the Sylvanian Kingdom and the St Vault Empire.

September, Imperial Calendar Year 1351. Air Hunt Island, St Vault Empire, United Operations Command Headquarters.

Shaking off the remnants of his nightmare, Balthazar sat up and checked the time. Six in the morning. Today, all the St Vault Empire's senior staff officers would gather for a crucial discussion about the Southern River front line.

It had been eleven months since the catastrophic collapse of the Kukuana Line.

After a long period of confusion, the situation was finally stabilizing. Normally, the Empire’s forces would have been pushed all the way to the Great Waterfall and plunged into the abyss, but they had managed to survive this far thanks to the efforts of the Isla Fleet in the second Sierra Greed naval battle three months ago. The defeat inflicted on the Urano’s Multi-Island Fleet had forced them to retreat for repairs, giving the St Vault forces time to catch their breath. The St Vault army, which had been on the verge of collapse, was now able to kneel and catch their breath. Next, they had to stand up and get back into the fight.

But the damage was severe, and they were barely holding on.

Their ground forces on the Mitterland continent were nearly annihilated. The only reason they still had control of the Multi-Island Sea region was due to their navy. If they lost the upcoming battle against Urano’s new fleet, it would truly be the end.

The only way for the Empire to survive was to withdraw all 1.7 million troops stationed on the Akitsu continent and redeploy them to the Mitterland homeland.

There was no time to waste. They couldn’t afford to be pinned down by the Southern River front. The Empire’s survival depended on completing the withdrawal as quickly as possible.

But they couldn’t initiate negotiations for a ceasefire with the Akitsu Federation. If they did, it would reveal their weakness, and the terms of the ceasefire would be unfavourable. Worse, the Akitsu forces might take advantage of their vulnerability and strike. On top of that, if they delayed too long, the Urano fleet would regain strength, and the Empire would lose control of the seas.

Time was running out.

The only way to save the Empire was to somehow arrange a ceasefire with the Akitsu Federation without tipping their hand.

"We need to find someone within the Akitsu Federation who is in favour of a ceasefire, can keep a secret, and holds significant power in their government. There can’t be many, but we need to make contact with them."

Balthazar made this proposal at the meeting of senior staff officers.

Victor Khan, who had once been praised as the “brain” of the Empire’s military, responded:

"If there were such a convenient person, don’t you think we would’ve already found them?"

"What about the politicians? Any leads with the diplomats who’ve been in contact with the Akitsu Federation?"

"We’ve reached out to a few influential figures, but Akitsu’s decision-making lies with three key individuals on their War Council. Two of them are puppets of Prime Minister Kuonji. Unless we find someone who can sway Kuonji, any approach would be futile or, worse, counterproductive."

Balthazar reviewed the intelligence reports on the Akitsu Federation’s power structure.

The decisions were made by the War Council, and the Emperor merely approved them with an imperial edict. Although the Emperor had veto power, it had rarely, if ever, been used. The Emperor’s role had been largely ceremonial for over two centuries. Every edict had been issued at the recommendation of the ruling council or government officials.

However, while the Emperor had never independently issued an edict, there was nothing in the law that forbade it.

If they could engineer a favourable “imperial decision,” they might be able to withdraw the 1.7 million troops and secure their hold on the Mitterland mainland.

"Is there anyone who can influence the Emperor?"

"That’s even more unlikely. The Emperor is bedridden and no longer capable of sound judgment. At this point, he’s merely a figurehead used by Kuonji to maintain the appearance of authority."

Balthazar considered the possibility.

In theory, someone could forge a "divine decree" in the Emperor’s name.

"If I were part of the Akitsu Federation, I’d certainly use the Emperor’s authority to my advantage," Balthazar thought.

Whether the goal was to continue the war or broker peace, the Emperor’s name was key. Anyone seeking to achieve their objectives would need to utilize the Emperor’s authority. But with Kuonji monopolizing that power, any ambitious official would need to remove him to further their own agenda.

"If there’s someone in the Akitsu Federation who favours peace, we might be able to support them in removing Kuonji."

As Balthazar pondered this, a memory resurfaced.

Elisabeth had once said to him:

"Did you know that Kagura serves as a member of the Imperial Guard for the Akitsu Royal Family?"

"I heard it from Captain Sakagami. The Kagura family has been protecting the royal family for over a thousand years."

The conversation had taken place last June, during their first meeting at a high-end hotel in Selfaust after Elisabeth revealed her true identity.

"Kagura is close to the Emperor?"

A chill ran down his spine.

Someone close to the Emperor, who might be willing to broker peace, and who could be trusted with the Empire’s secrets.

There was only one person who fit that description.

The one who fits that description better than anyone else.

— Kagura.

Balthazar’s mind replayed the moment of their parting on the flying fortress Odin, when Kagura smiled at him.

"I love you, Baltha."

"We’ll meet again. We must meet again. When you’ve become even greater."

"Become a person strong enough to change the world, and then we’ll see each other again."

The memory of those words, along with the sweetness of their shared kiss, flooded back to him.

That was two summers ago.

And now.

Both Balthazar and Kagura had secured positions at the heart of power in their respective nations, standing on the brink of their countries’ survival.

What did this situation mean?

— Destiny.

The word Kagura had used during their daring escape on the Eriadore airship pierced through Balthazar’s thoughts.

Shivering from a sense of awe, Balthazar suppressed his trembling and asked,

"Do we have any information about the Imperial Guard?"

"They're stationed with the Royal Guard Division, protecting Misato. The Crown Prince, Daitoku, is commanding the Royal Guard in place of the Emperor and is in charge of defending the capital," one of the strategists answered, flipping through a report from the intelligence division. Balthazar fell into deep thought.

The Prime Minister Kuonji and the Emperor had retreated to the Kyonagi Palace, while the Crown Prince was commanding the Royal Guard in the capital. Kagura was currently serving as the Crown Prince’s personal bodyguard...

There was a crucial revelation hiding somewhere between these events. Balthazar had a feeling it was there.

He focused his mind, scrutinizing each detail, every event.

Somewhere, there was a sliver of light buried beneath it all.

His intuition wouldn’t let him rest.

— The path that the heavens demand of Kagura and I...

Even without concrete evidence or scientific rationale, Balthazar knew it was worth pursuing this hunch. If it could lead to the survival of the Empire and the future of the Multi-Island Sea, it was worth exploring.

— The meaning of my encounter with Kagura.

Normally, Balthazar would dismiss such thoughts as irrational, but this time, he didn’t resist the voice echoing inside his head. His eyes grew bloodshot as he listened half-heartedly to the heated debates of the staff officers around him. Meanwhile, he requested documents from the intelligence division concerning the Royal Family, the Imperial Guard, and the Kagura family, diving headlong into his research.

From between the lines of those documents, Kagura’s familiar smile continually surfaced in his mind. He knew it was sentimental, but occasionally, he allowed himself to indulge in those sweet memories. When he did, it felt as though the faint light of hope grew brighter.

— Kagura, I know you’ll choose peace.

Balthazar was certain. Knowing her character, she would undoubtedly choose a path that avoided unnecessary bloodshed. No matter how advantageous the war seemed for the Royal Kingdom, Kagura wouldn’t support prolonging it.

— If you’re near the Royal Family, then even a glimmer of hope becomes visible.

Calling out to her in his heart, Balthazar worked tirelessly, without sleep, poring over the materials and coordinating with the relevant departments, searching for any way to establish a secret contact with the Imperial Guard.

Amidst the flashes that burst in all directions, Elisabeth Sylvania held out the "Holy Staff." The emblem of Saint Aldista, inlaid with jewels at the staff's head, was exposed to the streams of light, radiating in seven colours.

She offered a pure, innocent smile to the reporters gathered from the Hydrabard Archipelago and the St Vault Empire, then proceeded to tell the grand lie she had prepared for this day.

"As you all know, the Holy Staff is a symbol of the Sylvania royal family's heir. Throughout the generations, kings have been permitted to wear the crown by raising the Holy Staff before Saint Aldista. Today, I must reveal another aspect of this sacred relic to you all."

The faces of the reporters brimmed with expectation and tension. Alongside rumours of Elisabeth's survival, speculation about the "Sylvania royal family's hidden treasure," amounting to 50 billion pesos, had long circulated but was considered unfounded. Today, the mystery that had lingered in people's conversations was about to be unveiled.

Empire Calendar 1351, October, Southern Archipelago, Tor Elres Island.

The location Elisabeth designated for the public press conference was Tor Elres Island, one of the small islands about 150 nautical miles northwest of Santos Island in the archipelago. The isolated island, where fewer than a hundred inhabitants lived through primitive fishing, had suddenly drawn the spotlight, with numerous reporters, Sylvania royal family members, and even high-ranking officials from the St Vault military gathering there.

They all stood atop a seven-meter-high cliff, on which an ancient stone shrine was built. Three large, ungainly boulders stood tall, casting their shadows downward, stretching toward the waves crashing at the base of the cliff as the sun from the southern sky shone upon them. At the edge of the cliff, there was a stone altar, and Elisabeth stood in front of it, addressing the reporters.

"The Holy Staff, while a symbol of royal succession, also serves to reveal the location of the 'heritage' passed down through generations of the Sylvania royal family. Today, I have invited you all to this remote island to share the joy of discovering this royal heritage."

With those words, Elisabeth solemnly inserted the Holy Staff into the central indentation of the altar. As if designed to fit, the staff stood upright on the altar, catching the nearly overhead sunlight, which illuminated the jewel at its head. The complex light refracted from the jewel and cast its beams beyond the cliff toward the sea.

"And now, I must show you why this treasure has remained unused until today. It is my belief that the discovery we make here today will greatly influence the outcome of the Second Archipelago War. Please convey this historic finding to your home countries."

As soon as Elisabeth finished speaking, the sun, despite there being no clouds, began to dim.

The reporters swallowed hard and turned their cameras toward the gradually darkening daytime sky.

The sun was being eclipsed.

Today was the day that the once-in-seventy-five-year total solar eclipse would be observed from Tor Elres Island.

Before the eyes of all present, the shadow of the moon completely covered the sun, and the sun, now reduced to a thin ring, burned brightly in the darkened sky.

Then—.

The jewels at the head of the Holy Staff cast a beam of light toward the sea.

There should have been no source of light, yet it seemed as though the jewels themselves had gathered and focused fragments of light, casting an eerie glow that pointed to a specific spot in the sea.

The beam landed on a strange reef. Gigantic, monster-like rocks jutted out from the sea, washed by violent waves, between which the light shone. Surveyors, equipped with sextants and telescopes, immediately pinpointed the location indicated by the Holy Staff and marked it on their maps.

Elisabeth, her expression sharp and dignified, turned once again to the reporters.

"The Holy Staff points to the location of a treasure that sank in these waters long ago. Approximately 270 years ago, a royal trade ship transporting vast amounts of precious metals from the Vestelant Continent sank here off the coast of Tor Elres Island. The sea here has strong currents and rough waves, and as you can see, dangerous rocks abound, making it impossible to recover the treasure with the technology of the time. In modern times, several secret attempts were made to salvage it, but all failed. Then, the Uranos invasion began, and the treasure was left behind in the sea. This secret was sealed in the Holy Staff, passed down only to the kings, and now I reveal the location to you."

With a pompous attitude, she continued her grand lie. The reporters, holding back their urge to fire off questions, listened to Elisabeth's tale, which sounded like a fantasy.

"Now is the time to bring the sleeping treasure into the light of day. The recovery will begin today, and the results will be shown to you all in due time. I promise that all the treasure recovered will be used to restore the Isla fleet. With greater strength, the Isla fleet will surely secure peace in the archipelago."

Elisabeth made her bold declaration, bowed slightly, and left the altar. The reporters attempted to ask questions, but the queen, surrounded by her aides, walked away quickly, cutting off all inquiries. A royal spokesperson stepped forward to field the barrage of questions from the press.

Why had the recovery been delayed until today? Why wait for the solar eclipse? What was the purpose of the ritual? They could have identified the location without the Holy Staff.

Most of the questions were along those lines. The spokesperson, anticipating this, responded with equally grandiose answers: "We must follow the royal tradition," "Knowing the exact location will help avoid dangers," "The Holy Staff is essential for protecting the secret," "This was to share the archaeological excitement with everyone," and so on, providing plausible yet evasive explanations. Meanwhile, Elisabeth quickly descended the cliff, boarded the waiting boat at the makeshift pier, and left the island as if escaping.

Seated in the cabin of the royal yacht, Elisabeth sipped tea and breathed a sigh of relief once Tor Elres Island was out of sight. Across from her sat Colette Avery, her aunt and advisor, lounging on a sofa, carelessly toying with the Holy Staff.

"That was more than enough. Your performance was impeccable."

Colette then removed the head of the staff and took out the lightbulb and battery hidden inside. The real Holy Staff was still stored in the treasure hall on Santos Island, and the one used today was a replica made for the occasion.

Elisabeth sighed, looking troubled.

"I've gotten so good at lying."

The Holy Staff and altar were all staged. Even choosing this island for the solar eclipse was part of the show. There was no sunken ship, and of course, no treasure. If there had been, they would have long since recovered it and converted it to cash.

"I feel like I'm becoming more and more of a terrible person."

Colette chuckled at this sigh.

"No good person can be a king. You have to be a skilled villain who can pretend to be good."

"I thought I understood that... but today, I realized how truly twisted I’ve become."

With the teacup at her lips, Elisabeth gazed out at the blue ocean. The pristine sky, with its billowing white clouds, was dazzling against her now-tainted soul.

She had gathered all those reporters and boldly pulled off this elaborate charade.

Reflecting on her own words, she marvelled at how easily she could spin such outrageous lies with a straight face.

The reporters weren’t fools. At best, they were half-believing, half-skeptical. Most likely, many of them had already seen through it as a political manoeuvre. But whether they believed it or not didn’t matter. The purpose of this theatrical display, timed with the solar eclipse, was to spread the story that the Sylvania royal family was about to recover 50 billion pesos worth of treasure to the investors of the international financial market. To ensure the message got across, even the most ridiculous play needed to be staged in a way that would easily catch people’s attention.

The legend of the Sylvania royal family’s hidden treasure, worth 50 billion pesos, passed down through the generations.

The other secret of the Holy Staff, the symbol of the Sylvania kings.

Elisabeth herself had started these two famous rumours, known even in the St Vault Empire, the Akitsu Federation, and the Hydrabard Archipelago.

Carefully, over time, with a public relations apparatus set up to spread the rumours, Elisabeth had constructed this "illusory treasure." Now, finally, the non-existent "50 billion pesos" was about to materialize through the "alchemy" Elisabeth had orchestrated.

Colette had long voiced one concern about this "alchemy."

"No matter how much effort and time you’ve put into this setup, it will all be for nothing without Balthazar Grim's cooperation. Aren’t we short on manoeuvring him?"

Elisabeth nodded. She understood that well, but still.

"He’s the type of person who’s always probing into the intentions of others, so if we set something up too blatantly, he’ll get suspicious. If he realizes our true motives, with his troublesome personality, he might even get spiteful. It’s better to hit him with a surprise attack that leaves him no time to think."

"Well... You know him better, so I’ll leave the persuasion to you. But it’s worrisome that the most critical part is still uncertain."

"I’ve already coordinated with Simon Berner. Now, it’s just a matter of getting the captain to meet with Chairmen Renior. Once those two meet, things will inevitably move forward."

Having thoroughly reviewed all the top-secret intelligence they had collected on the Berner conglomerate, Elisabeth had reached that conclusion.

Elisabeth had long understood that acquiring first-rate intelligence through her intelligence agency, which gathered, selected, and analysed it, was the key for a small country like theirs to survive in such harsh times. Like a rabbit hiding in the field, she had to sense all dangers and react swiftly to the sound of prey’s footsteps. By investing every last penny into intelligence, Sylvania had managed to gain precise knowledge—far ahead of other powers—about the Isla fleet’s arrival on the Vestelant continent last November, Balthazar's position as the head of the Berner conglomerate, and Renior's current illness.

Balthazar Grim held the key to the treasure chest.

If Balthazar moved according to Elisabeth's plan, the treasure chest would open. The non-existent 50 billion pesos would overflow from the empty chest.

Renior and Balthazar.

With the reunion of these two monsters, all of Elisabeth’s carefully laid plans would converge toward victory.

"But the captain seems to hate the chairman deeply. I can’t imagine he’ll willingly go meet him. Are you sure it will work?"

Elisabeth turned away from the window and flashed Colette a different kind of smile than before.

"I have an ace up my sleeve."

It was a smile that carried a hint of something almost devilish.

— When did this child start smiling like this?

Colette, feeling a touch of fear, gazed at Elisabeth's faintly tainted smile.

Balthazar, who had been dozing off at his desk, woke with a start, feeling as though he had been imprisoned by a witch. He arched his back and surveyed his surroundings.

No one was there. He sighed in relief. Thinking back to the nightmare, it seemed as though a girl with a devilish grin had restrained him and poured icy water down his back.

"I'm just tired," he said to himself. It was no surprise. He had been shuttling back and forth between the Unified Operations Command of the St Vault Empire on Air Hunt Island and the Sylvanian Kingdom's Operations Command on Santos Island for almost four months now. The only time he could get any meaningful sleep was during flights between the two islands, and once he was back on the ground, countless problems rushed at him. He used every bit of his knowledge and administrative ability to navigate the endless waves of issues, but no matter how many he overcame, new ones surged forward, crashing down with heavy spray.

This was what he had wanted. Without being bothered by the foolish staff officers, he could fully exercise his abilities to navigate through and resolve the barrage of challenges. Directing the bows of two armies, even by a slight margin, toward his desired course was gratifying. Although there was no time to sleep peacefully in a bed, he couldn't deny that this was the most fulfilling period of his life.

"Alright, time to get to work," he muttered, steeling himself as he glanced out the window to confirm he was in the Sierra Greed city hall on Santos Island. He then got to work on tasks related to the Sylvanian Kingdom's military.

Despite the accumulating fatigue, he continued to handle the flood of issues with precision. The only thing fuelling him was his hatred for Renior.

His goal was clear: rise in the ranks, seize power, and someday crush the Berner conglomerate.

Balthazar lived to destroy everything that Renior had built. For that cause, he could endure any amount of work.

“Cry and scream, old man,” he murmured while drafting plans for future joint operations between the Isla Fleet, the Sylvanian Kingdom's military, and the St Vault Empire's Archipelago Fleet.

"I grow closer to your throne with each passing day."

Lately, he had been talking to himself more frequently. His brain was constantly operating at full capacity, and the heated, expanding thoughts occasionally slipped out without him realizing. It didn't bother him much, as he was alone, and he continued to curse his grandfather, who he assumed was somewhere out there, unaware of his plight.

— My accomplishments are surely reaching your ears by now.

— Fear me. Tremble. Regret what you did to me.

— One day, I’ll send you on a tour of hellish battlefields as a gift.

Fuelled by hatred, Balthazar sought ways to ensure the seamless cooperation of the three forces. When on Air Hunt Island, he spent most of his time devising plans to withdraw the 1.7 million soldiers stationed on the Akitsu continent. On Santos Island, he focused on coordinating joint operations with the Isla Fleet. Both operations were critical and, if they failed, would lead to the empire’s demise. The weight of the responsibility bore down heavily on Balthazar's intellect.

Particularly concerning the Isla Fleet, urgent matters included repairing damaged ships after their long voyage, resupplying ammunition, and upgrading the armaments of certain vessels. Elisabeth had put on a ridiculous spectacle on a remote island two days prior, waving around the "holy staff" in a bid to secure the necessary funding. But judging by the newspaper reports, only the most naive investors would fall for such a charade. The idea that 500 billion pesetas worth of treasure was lying on a sunken ship at the bottom of the sea was no different from a drunkard's tall tale.

"Just a fool of a woman," Balthazar muttered.

He had briefly wondered if she might possess some political savvy, but it seemed that concern had been misplaced. She was still the same fashion-obsessed fool she had been during their days at Air Hunt Officer Academy. Without him, she was nothing more than a monkey. Only under his guidance would she ever be recognized as a proper queen.

Don’t worry, Elisabeth. Your job is to follow my lead, baring your teeth and clashing the cymbals when I direct you. When I lower the baton, you’ll shut up and stop clashing. That’s the only reason you exist in this world.

As he carried on with his less-than-charitable thoughts while working, there was a knock at the door, and a royal attendant peeked in.

"Excuse me, Major Grim. His Majesty urgently requests your presence. I apologize for the suddenness, but might you spare some time?"

"…I see. How unusual… Very well, I’ll be there shortly."

Balthazar wondered if something had happened. This was the first time Elisabeth had summoned him personally. He followed the attendant, leaving the operations room and ascending the stairs to the fifth floor of Sierra Greed City Hall, where Elisabeth resided.

He was ushered into a somewhat unadorned reception room that served as the queen's audience chamber. The former palace had been destroyed long ago, and no plans for reconstruction had been made. For now, the fifth floor of city hall served as Elisabeth’s palace.

After sitting on the sofa and waiting for a while, Elisabeth, dressed formally, emerged from her chambers. Balthazar stepped forward, right foot back, and bowed respectfully.

"I am honoured by your invitation. I shall dedicate all my strength to fulfill Your Majesty's will."

Elisabeth smiled gracefully.

"Thank you. I know you’re busy, Major, but this matter is urgent."

Balthazar tightened his expression, his eyes conveying sincerity as he spoke solemnly.

"I have always prioritized Your Majesty's requests above all else, and I always will."

"Oh my," Elisabeth blushed, her delighted smile widening.

Even Balthazar had to admit his flattery was flawless. He had prepared hundreds of different compliments for moments like this. The more he praised Elisabeth, the more she would get carried away and dance in the palm of his hand.

After offering Balthazar a seat, Elisabeth turned to the attendant standing by the door.

"This is a private matter between the major and me. You may leave."

The attendant acknowledged her orders with a gesture and quietly exited the room.

Now alone, with a glass table between them, Balthazar could sense what was coming. It had to be about money. And indeed, it was.

"Did you see the news about Tor Elres Island?" she asked.

"Of course. I was astonished. I never imagined such treasure would be hidden there."

He tried to inject as much emotion as possible into his words. Elisabeth tilted her head.

"You don’t believe it, do you?"

Of course not, he thought. There’s no way I’d fall for such a ridiculous show. But instead, he responded like the gentleman he pretended to be.

"No, of course not. I have never once doubted Your Majesty."

Elisabeth paused for a moment, then mischievously stuck out her tongue.

"Actually, it’s all a lie."

"What?!"

"There’s no treasure. Not even a sunken ship. I only chose that island because it was convenient for viewing the solar eclipse."

"I’m utterly shocked. I was completely taken in. You performed so well, Your Majesty. The entire world has been fooled."

Balthazar made a show of raising his hands in exasperation, shrugging his shoulders as if he were truly at a loss, which elicited a bashful smile from Elisabeth.

You’re blushing? Balthazar thought as he imagined throttling Elisabeth’s neck while yelling that even the chief strategist of Uranos couldn’t deceive him. After sating his mental appetite for destruction, he maintained his polite demeanour and asked a question.

"So, the purpose is to issue Balesteros bonds, correct?"

Elisabeth's smile did not falter.

"Yes. If people believe we have 500 billion pesos in reserve, investors will feel confident in flocking to Sierra Greed’s market."

"I see. That will surely fetch a high price."

As if, he thought inwardly, mocking the notion. Investors weren’t foolish enough to fall for such a simple ruse. If anything, it would only signal the Isla Fleet’s financial troubles, leading to the opposite effect. There was no way the bond prices would rise from such shallow scheming.

"No, this alone won’t be enough," Elisabeth quickly corrected him.

At least she understood that much.

"There’s one final touch of alchemy that will turn this non-existent treasure into reality."

Her words gave Balthazar an uneasy feeling. He decided to probe.

"Ah, so you plan to summon the world's greatest financial wizard?"

His bait worked, and Elisabeth’s lips curled.

"Yes. I intend to enlist the greatest wizard of all."

As Balthazar had suspected, his concerns were confirmed.

He instinctively rejected the idea.

"Moving Renior Berner is impossible for anyone."

He answered before she could even ask.

The smile faded slowly from Elisabeth's face. She was likely thinking the same thing Amelia Cervantes from the Isla Fleet's foreign ministry had thought.

None of them understood that man at all.

"Renior is not some magic charm. He’s a carnivorous plant. Approach him, lured by his sweet scent, and you'll be devoured and dissolved. If you get involved with him, it will bring a thousand years of misfortune to your kingdom."

Balthazar had already seen through Elisabeth’s plan. That farcical performance was just a stepping stone. The real goal was to involve Renior in the Balesteros bonds. If Renior were to take part, the myth of the 500 billion pesetas in treasure would seem much more plausible. Investors would begin to believe the treasure actually existed, and bond prices would rise accordingly.

And Balthazar was the perfect tool to make Renior move.

What a cheap ploy, Elisabeth.

Rage, contempt, and hatred seeped from the depths of Balthazar's expression.

Using your intelligence agency to dig into my past and thinking that makes you clever?

Don’t get cocky just because you learned a few secrets, fool.

There’s no way I’ll dance to your tune.

The most important thing was that Elisabeth had no authority to command Balthazar. He was an officer of the St Vault Empire, not a soldier of Sylvania. She could only request, not order him. His job now was to skilfully deflect her request and, in the end, gently refuse it.

After formulating his plan, Balthazar quickly masked his dark emotions and replaced them with a relaxed smile.

"Your Majesty. My grandfather despises me—loathe might be a better word. If I were to visit him and suggest he invest in the Balesteros bonds, he would immediately use all his networks to spread rumours and devalue the Isla Fleet, causing the bond prices to plummet. Some people in this world operate like that."

He delivered this line in one breath.

Elisabeth blinked innocently and replied, "Major, you may be jumping to conclusions a little too quickly. I do have a request for you, but I wouldn't dream of asking you to recommend the bonds to Chairman Renior."

"Oh, that’s a relief. Amelia from the Isla Fleet’s foreign ministry made a similar request recently, so I just assumed… What is it that you need from me, then?"

His relaxed smile remained unbroken as he asked.

Elisabeth, wearing her own sweet smile, replied, "I simply want you to meet with Chairman Renior. That’s all."

Balthazar maintained his pleasant expression, suppressing the deep hatred inside.

"With no particular agenda?"

"How about presenting yourself as a prodigal grandson returning after eight years as a staff officer for the St Vault Empire, having left home at fourteen?"

There was a flash of cold brutality behind Balthazar's smile.

"Your Majesty, that seems like quite an excessive jest, don’t you think?"

"No, of course not. I always think sincerely about the prosperity of both the kingdom and the empire," Elisabeth replied, her expression unwavering.

The two exchanged smiles, both hiding their true feelings, their verbal swords clashing as if in a delicate duel.

"I, too, sincerely desire the shared prosperity of the kingdom and the empire. That is why I must respond to your words. There is no future in getting involved with Renior," Balthazar countered.

"But isn’t he your family? Hearing you speak so ill of him saddens me," Elisabeth said, her voice tinged with feigned sympathy.

Balthazar suppressed the sneer that threatened to escape and maintained a disarmingly innocent smile.

"Family?" The hatred he had long repressed surged to the surface, shaping his words faster than his reason could control.

"I have never thought of him as family. Nor does he see me that way. The Berner family knows no such thing as familial love."

What kind of family throws a child onto the battlefield, forcing them to transport corpses and tend to the wounded? What kind of family makes a child euthanize horses with lethal injections? If such a thing is family, then he would rather have had cows and pigs as parents.

Elisabeth remained silent, staring intently at Balthazar.

He, too, maintained the facade of adult composure, keeping his simmering anger and hatred hidden as he endured her silence.

"Everyone makes mistakes," Elisabeth said quietly after a long pause.

"Perhaps you were hurt. Perhaps your expectations were betrayed, and you were punished instead. That happens," she continued, seemingly aware of everything Balthazar had endured.

Good, that would make things quicker. She knew why he could never cooperate.

"People make mistakes. They can fail to express their love correctly. All humans stumble and make errors on their journey through life. The question is whether you can accept others' mistakes and grow from them. That is what determines a person’s character," Elisabeth continued, her voice calm and measured.

Was she seriously trying to lecture him? Was she really attempting to offer him advice?

Fury surged within Balthazar. He would never, not in a million years, give her what she wanted.

"You are right. Forgiveness for the lower classes is indeed the mark of the noble," Balthazar said, his voice tight. "But Renior Berner is incapable of even the simplest decency. That monster cannot be reasoned with. To him, it’s only natural to repay kindness with betrayal. No, worse, the Berner family’s way is to parasitize benefactors and devour them whole. You must never get involved with them."

Elisabeth sighed deeply, raising her gaze to meet his with sincere-looking eyes.

"Major Grim, I must say this once more: I simply wish for you to go see the chairman."

"I didn’t leave my family on a whim. If I return now without having accomplished anything, I will be ridiculed."

"I understand your feelings. But right now, you need to return," Elisabeth urged.

"And why is that?" Balthazar asked, his tone sharp.

"Chairman Renior is gravely ill. The diagnosis gives him only a month to live."

Elisabeth’s words echoed through the room, and for a moment, Balthazar’s thoughts froze.

"Simon Berner contacted me personally, insisting that you must be brought back home, even if we have to drag you there by force. The airship is ready. Please, return home. Immediately."

It was as though his spine had shattered and fallen to the ground. In its place, a thick, icy pillar seemed to pierce through him.

Suppressing the trembling in his limbs, Balthazar forced out a response.

"It’s none of my concern."

He struggled to keep his voice steady as rage and restraint battled within him.

"Whether that man lives or dies is of no consequence to me."

"Captain…," Elisabeth began.

"He can die. Miserably. He should suffer the consequences of the countless lives he has destroyed," Balthazar spat out, feeling a burning pain stabbing into his temple, his mind unravelling. His attempts to control his emotions failed, and the bitterness he had long suppressed began to leak out as curses.

"There will be no one at his bedside. After ruling everyone with wealth and power, he will die alone. And I couldn’t care less. Let’s end this conversation. I will not leave. I’m far too busy to concern myself with the fate of one withered old man. Excuse me."

His body shook uncontrollably as Balthazar tried to rise from his seat. He was painfully aware of how agitated he was.

Renior is dying.

It was a simple fact, of course. People die. But the thought of that monster facing death had never crossed his mind.

"Captain," Elisabeth called again, standing up and quickly moving around the table to sit beside him. She placed a hand on his shoulder and gently guided him back down.

"Let me speak to you as Cecil, not as the queen," she said softly.

Balthazar felt as though his legs had lost all strength as he sat back down on the sofa, helpless.

"It’s probably just a misunderstanding, piled up over time. You should clear it all away… or you’ll regret it. I can take care of things here in the kingdom. Just go, even for one day."

Her words, spoken as Cecil Hauer, felt genuine. Balthazar took a deep breath, trying to collect his thoughts.

"I’m sorry, but no matter what you say, I will not move. My resolve is firm," he replied, gradually regaining control over himself. His lips curled into a sharp smile.

"No matter the situation, I must remain cold and logical. Emotions have no place in this. I must always act rationally and seek practical outcomes. If my grandfather taught me anything, it’s that principle. So, I will remain true to that."

In Cecil's eyes, there was a flicker of sympathy, sadness, and pity.

"Do you look down on me for that? That’s fine. But aren’t you the same, Your Majesty? You only wish to use me to manipulate Renior. Aren’t we just alike? No matter how much you try to dress it up, every human being acts out of self-interest. And there’s nothing wrong with that."

Unwittingly, Balthazar's innermost thoughts spilled out as words. He couldn’t stop them.

"What’s the point of talking about morality or humanity? What does it matter if I go to him, clear up misunderstandings, hold his hand, shed tears, and reconcile? He’s a wretched old man reaching the end of his life. Why should I care? I have work to do. The fate of the empire and the kingdom rests on my shoulders. I don’t have time to be bothered with the life or death of one man."

He continued to pour out his frustrations, knowing full well how foolish he must sound, but unable to stop. Cecil's expression hardened as she finally glared at him.

"Captain… You’re not a child anymore. What’s with the tantrum? It’s pathetic," she scolded, using the same tone as in their academy days.

"Deep down, you want to go, don’t you? You want to see your grandfather one last time and show him how much you’ve grown. There’s no need for false pride. No one will mock you."

Balthazar let out a fierce, chilling laugh.

"Your Majesty, you don’t know a thing about me. Do I really want to go? Am I just being prideful? Oh, how little you must think of me. Why should I return for something so pointless, a mere waste of time? If you want me to go, then show me what’s in it for me. I’m not a child. You’ll need to offer something tangible to move an adult."

The more he spoke, the clearer Balthazar's thoughts became.

Elisabeth had no authority to command him. Her only option was to appeal to his emotions. All he had to do was discard any trace of sentimentality, and the matter would be resolved.

I’m not going back. Let the old man die. Once I’ve destroyed the Berner conglomerate, I’ll write insults on his tombstone and finally be satisfied.

"Captain… are you serious?" Cecil asked, her voice sharp with displeasure.

Balthazar, now fully composed, responded with indifference.

"Naturally, that's the opinion of an adult," Balthazar responded smoothly.

"Is that so... Acting based on profit and loss is what makes an adult?" Cecil replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"You may not know, Your Majesty, but that’s how the world works."

"Is that so? So if there’s profit to be had, you’ll act on it, right?"

"Of course. When the cost-benefit analysis is clear, acting for the benefit is only logical."

"Hmm... Then maybe I should do the same."

The warm, kind expression that had graced Cecil’s face moments ago was now gone, replaced by a cold, calculating look.

Good, Balthazar thought. This suits her much better. It's far less irritating when people focus on pragmatism rather than spouting morals or loyalty. It's much easier to deal with those who only care about profit.

"Indeed, for someone in your position, that is the rational approach," Balthazar said, fully composed now. His face betrayed no emotion as he responded.

Cecil stood up from the sofa and, with no warning, switched the conversation to an unrelated topic.

"By the way, Major, I know this is sudden, but I’ve actually been the target of terrible slander from one of the staff officers at the Operations Command Headquarters. Would you care to hear about it?"

Her tone had shifted back to that of Queen Elisabeth, the public figure. What a busy woman, Balthazar thought as he lifted his eyes to meet hers.

"Oh? A fellow officer of mine slandered Your Majesty?"

"Yes. I was both hurt and outraged... I don’t even know where to place these feelings. What do you suggest I do?"

"Hmm. Reporting this to General Rafael should suffice. Whoever it was, they’ll likely be demoted by tomorrow."

Elisabeth was a key figure for the Imperial Military Operations Command, especially in securing the Hydrabard Archipelago. The reason the imperial forces had managed to hold on after being driven from the Mitterland mainland was largely due to the support from the archipelago, which was aligned with Elisabeth’s will. Publicly slandering her, even as a senior officer, would undoubtedly result in harsh punishment.

"What exactly was this slander?"

"A letter was sent to me. Its contents were filled with crude insults," she said calmly.

Who could have been so foolish? Balthazar thought. Publicly insulting a queen, leaving written evidence, was a level of stupidity even he hadn’t encountered. If what Elisabeth said was true, the person responsible could easily be charged with treason against a monarch.

Curious to see this "idiot of the century," he asked, "May I see the letter?"

"Of course, here it is," Elisabeth said, walking over to a shelf, retrieving an old letter from a decorative box, and handing it to Balthazar.

The letter was slightly worn. As he took it and began to read, a sinking feeling overtook him.

“If you ever get into Operations Command, I’ll make sure you’re assigned to cleaning toilets. Your enemy won’t be Urano, it’ll be the stains on the toilets.”

For some reason, the contents felt familiar. It seemed as though he had written something like this to someone, a long time ago.

Suddenly, it came back to him. Yes, it was years ago when he had just started working at the Operations Command. A foolish girl from his academy days had sent him a ridiculous letter, and in response, he had written back, using these exact words to rebuke her.

Elisabeth pointed to the signature at the bottom of the letter.

“Balthazar Grim.”

It was unmistakable. His own signature, boldly inscribed at the end of the insults hurled at Elisabeth.

Elisabeth gently plucked the letter from his hand, cradling it against her chest as though it were a precious artifact.

"Whoever wrote this must be quite insane. Why on earth would they slander me like this? Perhaps I should ask General Rafael. Should we have this officer demoted? Or perhaps a rank reduction? Maybe even a trial for treason? Oh, Major Grim, what do you think would be the best way to handle this disrespectful officer?"

It had been about five or six years since that time. He recalled a trend back then of satirical cartoons in the newspapers. One, in particular, had a drawing of a man whose soul was escaping from his mouth, nose, and ears, a crude way of expressing shock.

Could that be what this is?

Balthazar felt as though his soul were drifting toward the ceiling of the room.

From above, he saw himself sitting on the sofa.

There he was, his mouth half-open, eyes rolled back, hands still outstretched in the same position they had been when Elisabeth had taken the letter from him. His mouth, nose, and ears seemed to be releasing white wisps of smoke.

Meanwhile, Elisabeth stood beside him, smiling as she clutched the letter to her chest like a prized possession.

Is this what it feels like for one's soul to leave their body? If so, I wouldn’t mind ascending to heaven right now.

Elisabeth’s voice broke through his daze.

"Or perhaps, Major Grim, you’d rather pay a visit to Chairman Renior? A demotion, imprisonment, or a visit—let’s see what the sender of this letter chooses, shall we?"

Balthazar’s body remained frozen, still releasing ectoplasm, as Elisabeth smiled down at him.

"And once you return from visiting the chairman, I’ll ensure this letter never sees the light of day. I’ll return it to you personally, without anyone else ever knowing," Elisabeth proposed, her smile as devilish as ever.

Part 14 (Part 5 of Volume 8)

Like ascending the river of stars, three large transport planes flew in formation, their wings in perfect alignment.

The colossal shadows of the thirty-meter-long aircraft cut through the flickering thousands of silver specks, flying west with their radios strictly silenced. In the midst of the predawn darkness, relying solely on the wingtip lights of the other planes, they flew single-mindedly toward their target.

Inside the three planes, a total of 240 soldiers were packed.

The thunderous roar of the four-propeller engines was the only sound transmitted to the 80 members of the Divine Light Unit on each plane. All of them bore tense expressions, parachutes strapped to their backs, sitting in four rows within the fuselage. Not a single one spoke, as they solemnly prepared for the decisive battle.

October 19th, Imperial Year 1351, en route from Misato to Kyonagi Palace.

Kagura Murasaki sat in the cockpit of the lead plane, occupying the captain's seat behind the pilot, her eyes scanning the flight chart being filled in by the navigator.

Dawn was about an hour away. Outside the window, the sky was a pitch-black canvas, but as she leaned closer to look east, she saw the edge of the horizon faintly tinted with purple.

"Less than five minutes until we reach our destination."

The navigator, who had been keeping a close eye on the airspeed indicator, reported, and Kagura nodded, rising to don her parachute.

"You’ve done well. When we return to Misato, please convey my thanks to Captain Ougiya."

"Yes, ma'am. May fortune be with you."

After exchanging pleasantries with the pilot dispatched from the Kusanagi Air Squadron, Kagura moved past the partition to join the soldiers waiting for their descent.

As Kagura stepped into the fuselage, the gaze of all eighty soldiers instantly locked onto her.

These were comrades she had lived and trained with for the past year and four months, enduring near-death experiences together. Close-quarters combat, low-altitude jumps, night infiltration, and communications blackout training—all to prepare for this moment, at the cost of several lives during the gruelling drills. Now, the day had finally come.

Kagura walked between the rows of soldiers, stopping just before the rear hatch, and turned to face them.

"There’s no need for excessive words. You’ve endured harsh training until now, and today, you’ll simply put that to use. I believe in our ability to achieve our mission."

The soldiers remained silent, listening to Kagura’s words. Every one of them had been honed to the point where they could infiltrate and secure targets within the Kyonagi Palace and Prime Minister's residence without maps or plans, and return successfully.

"We must not stain the succession with blood. Only engage if absolutely necessary. The principle is to neutralize the enemy without being detected, disarming them with precision. I understand this is a difficult task, but our goal is a bloodless revolution. All of your training was for this purpose."

As Kagura spoke, the rear hatch began to open with a low hum.

The sky slowly appeared behind the plane, wind howling loudly. The October night air flowed in, chilling the soldiers in the narrow space.

Raising her voice to be heard over the wind, Kagura continued.

"We fight for the people without sin. We fight to overthrow the Kuonji Cabinet, which has turned the Emperor into a puppet, and to end this needless war."

With those words, the pre-dawn sky appeared beyond the open hatch.

The eastern sky was painted a pale violet, about to burst into flames. It was by this faint light that they would make their descent.

Kagura's resolute voice signalled the start of the mission.

"First Divine Light Unit, prepare for deployment. Our target is the inner sanctum of Kyonagi Palace. Remember, unnecessary bloodshed is forbidden. We must not desecrate the sacred ground with blood."

A chorus of acknowledgment followed, as all the soldiers stood up and moved in unison toward the now fully open hatch.

Kagura, leading the charge, looked down at Kyonagi below.

The palace was guarded by the Imperial Guard, whose captain was none other than Kagura's brother, Yukihira Murasaki.

The two siblings, sharing the same bloodline, had diverged in their destinies the moment Kagura became the personal guard of Prince Daitoku and Yukihira the guardian of the Emperor. Today, they would face each other as enemies.

Brother, today will be the first time I defeat you.

Steeling herself, Kagura focused her senses.

The altitude difference between her and the ground was roughly 400 meters. From the rear of the plane, she could see two other large transport planes following closely. By now, the commanders of those units were likely finishing their final briefings and preparing to leap out into the sky.

The sprawling city of Kyonagi lay nestled among the mountains below, with the terrain fully studied and their drop zones meticulously chosen.

The mission was simple: land directly inside the Kyonagi Palace, secure the Emperor, and seize the imperial seal with lightning speed. That was the task of Kagura's First Unit. The Second and Third Units were assigned to take control of the Prime Minister's residence and the homes of the War Council members, securing key figures of the highest war leadership. This airborne drop would prevent any counterattack, disarming the enemy before they even realized what had happened.

Kagura looked back at her trusted comrades one more time. Not only the eighty soldiers present, but every member in the following units as well. Her heart swelled with gratitude. Rather than delivering a rousing speech at this late stage, she wanted to offer a smile of appreciation to the comrades who had stood by her until today, knowing that not everyone would survive to see the morning.

"It’s a fine morning. The wind feels good. Let’s go. For the future we seek."

The soldiers responded with bright smiles. Having endured hellish training together, the 240 members of the Divine Light Unit were now one family. Each one had chosen to trade their lives for peace, a foolish yet incredibly brave group.

If foolishness brought us to this point, then we’ll see it through with even greater foolishness.

With that thought, Kagura stepped into the dawn.

The ground beneath her vanished.

Heaven and earth reversed.

Simultaneously, the white canopy of her parachute shot upwards.

As she fell, Kagura watched as her comrades followed her out of the hatch, their white parachutes blooming like flowers in the sky.

On either side, the soldiers of the Second and Third Units also blossomed into the sky with their white canopies.

They had already notified the palace guards that transport planes would be arriving with supplies. The guards likely assumed these planes were delivering food and ammunition, unaware that they were actually carrying soldiers.

Gripping her harness, Kagura focused on her landing zone. The gardens of Kyonagi Palace rushed toward her. She spotted figures below, likely palace guards gazing up in confusion at the sudden appearance of so many white parachutes.

No.

In one corner of the garden, sandbags were piled, and behind them was the barrel of a heavy machine gun pointed toward the sky.

The Imperial Guards were calmly adjusting the angle of the gun with the aid of a tripod.

"…What?"

The moment Kagura froze in disbelief, she heard the heavy crack of gunfire.

Searing tracer rounds shot past her sides, piercing the parachute behind her.

"…!!"

Through the infinite sky, Kagura saw the withered canopy of a comrade falling helplessly.

Amidst the gunfire, faint screams reached her ears.

Her widened eyes caught the sight of more tracer rounds streaking upward from the ground.

It wasn’t just one position. From three separate locations within the palace grounds, streams of fire shot skyward, tearing through the parachutes of the Divine Light Unit.

Two, three, four… Elite soldiers, trained to perfection for this day, were being shot down mid-descent, unable to do anything as they fell helplessly from the sky.

As if anticipating Kagura's every thought, the Imperial Guards rained relentless fire on the helpless paratroopers. Exposed in the air, the soldiers couldn’t dodge, and one by one, their parachutes were punctured, sending them plummeting to the ground.

They had thought they’d outsmarted the enemy, only to be completely outmanoeuvred.

There was only one person capable of this.

"…Brother…!!"

It could only be Yukihira Murasaki, Captain of the Kyonagi Imperial Guards.

Before Kagura could even process her despair, her feet hit the ground.

She had landed in a gravel garden with little cover. Amidst the roar of the heavy machine guns, the shouts of the Imperial Guards rang out. Kagura quickly unhooked her harness, discarded the parachute, and sprinted like a leopard toward the shadow of a building, taking cover and surveying the battlefield.

Her comrades had been scattered by the unexpected gunfire, unable to maintain their formation as they landed in various parts of the palace grounds.

There was no longer any time to pursue a bloodless revolution.

If they didn’t return fire, they would all be wiped out.

If they didn’t stain the sacred ground with blood, the imperial succession would be lost.

Kagura should have known better than to think she could disarm Yukihira through a simple surprise attack.

I was too naive.

It was too late for regrets. Now, all she could do was fight.

With only thirty to forty minutes until sunrise, they had to make their move. Although visibility was limited, they had chosen dawn precisely for this reason. However, that very decision had backfired. The enemy had full visibility of their movements, making stealth nearly impossible. Yet if they delayed any further, Yukihira would surely move the Emperor and the imperial seal into hiding.

Gunfire echoed throughout the palace. Just minutes ago, the serene mountain air had been shattered, transformed into the cacophony of a battlefield filled with screams, shouts, and gunfire.

Kagura calmed her thoughts and planned her next move. Without radios, there was no way to communicate with her team. Each soldier had to rely on their own judgment, infiltrating the palace and neutralizing the enemy. They had trained for this. The Imperial Guards were said to number around one hundred, while Kagura’s First Unit had seventy. She could only hope Yukihira hadn’t reinforced their numbers as she stealthily made her way toward the back of the heavy machine gun emplacement.

The battle had become a chaotic melee, with no clear frontlines. It was impossible to predict where the enemy might appear, and friendly fire was a constant threat. Careful aim would be essential.

Somehow, Kagura needed to seize control of one of the machine gun positions to rally her comrades. The surprise ambush had thrown them into disarray, and it was up to Kagura to inspire them once more. Armed with only a sword and a dagger for close combat, her only option was to charge the machine gun nest, cutting down the two soldiers stationed there.

If my sword must be stained with blood…

Kagura had never killed anyone before. She had shot down enemy planes in aerial combat, but she had never used a blade against a human being.

But now, she had no choice.

I will cut them down.

Kagura had no choice but to steel her resolve. If she did not cut down her enemies, her comrades would die. They would fail in their mission, leaving behind only a tainted legacy as traitors. The Prince himself would not escape punishment as the figurehead of the coup. If they lost this battle,

everything would end. They had no choice but to win. And to win, Kagura would have to kill those who stood in their way.

I will walk this bloodstained path.

Kagura bit her lip and placed her hand on the hilt of her sword. The back of the enemy gunner gripping the heavy machine gun’s firing handle was fifteen meters ahead, behind some shrubs. Her eyes darted around, catching glimpses of other Imperial Guardsmen in dark blue uniforms firing at her comrades from behind the shadows of buildings.

The risk is great, but it must be done.

Kagura inhaled deeply, exhaling to release all unnecessary human emotions with her breath.

Then, she opened her eyes, cold and sharp like a beast’s.

All sins will be borne by me.

She decided and, like a panther, she dashed from her cover toward the machine gun emplacement.

The loader glanced back at her suddenly, his mouth parting slightly.

At that moment, Kagura’s blade, reflecting the sky’s colours, flashed free from its scabbard.

There’s no need to forgive me.

The thrust pierced the loader’s throat.

A dull, heavy sensation passed through her hands.

It was the feeling of taking a life.

Curse me.

Kagura withdrew the blade. Crimson sprayed onto her pale face. Without pause, she swung horizontally, slicing through the gunner’s neck.

A fountain of scarlet gushed forth.

Two more enemy soldiers behind her, realizing what had happened, shouted angrily and aimed their rifles at her.

Drenched in blood from head to toe, Kagura grabbed the lifeless loader by the back, using his body as a shield.

Two, three, four shots rang out.

The sound of bullets thudding into flesh filled the air as Kagura threw the body forward, vaulting over the sandbags to take cover. She waved to her scattered allies, signalling them to join her. Four comrades, assessing the situation, dashed toward her, crouching low and nodding close by.

With bullets still tearing through the sandbags behind them, Kagura took stock of the situation.

"Is everyone alright?"

"Both Ito and Takahashi were shot during the descent."

"…I see."

They had been her senior comrades, experienced soldiers who had supported her in leading the team. They were reliable officers who had lent their strength to her command.

There was no time to mourn. Kagura had to succeed in this mission for their sake. She steadied her voice, keeping her hands from shaking.

"There are two more machine guns. We need to take them out."

"Yes. Our allies are spreading out now."

Despite the ambush, they had trained rigorously for this—repeated infiltration drills in the palace grounds. They wouldn’t be caught off guard for long. Kagura decided to leave this task to her comrades while she focused on her primary objective.

"I will find the Emperor and the imperial seal. Oyodo and Momiyama, come with me. Kato and Kobayashi, secure the machine guns and call for reinforcements."

"Yes, ma'am."

She took a deep breath. She had to erase the image of herself reflected in the loader’s dying eyes and forget the sensation of taking a life with her hands. Kagura forced herself to focus, looking toward the direction of the inner palace.

By now, her brother Yukihira was likely with the Emperor, issuing orders. His mission was to protect the Emperor, while hers was to capture him. The siblings, bound by blood, were destined to clash head-on.

Even if it’s my brother, I will cut him down.

I am a warrior of war.

Wiping the blood from her cheek with her sleeve, Kagura cleaned her sword in a single motion, exchanged a glance with her two subordinates, and nodded. With Kato and Kobayashi providing covering fire, Kagura leapt from behind the sandbags.

Bullets kicked up gravel at her feet as she sprinted like a wild hare, darting into the shadow of a nearby building. She had memorized the palace’s layout. To her left was the main hall, connected by a corridor to the inner palace. If the Emperor was anywhere, he was likely in one of these two places.

Kagura bet on the inner palace.

Without hesitation, she peered around the corner, surveying the path to the inner palace.

There were no visible enemies, but she was certain they were hidden, watching her. If she dashed out now, she would be shot immediately.

"Commander, I’ll go," Oyodo whispered, offering to reveal the enemy’s position by making himself a target.

He was an excellent officer. She didn’t want to lose him here, but there was no time left. Kagura could only feel gratitude.

"Thank you. I’ll owe you for this."

"Momiyama, watch my back."

"…Leave it to me. And forgive me."

The two were close friends from the same village. Their brief exchange carried the weight of a lifetime’s understanding. Kagura knew that everyone here was ready to lay down their lives for the mission, but her heart still silently wept for them.

"Then let’s go."

Oyodo gave a final word and sprinted out from cover toward the inner palace. He covered twenty meters in an instant, his target only ten meters away when—

Two flashes of gunfire erupted from behind the garden bushes.

Sharp cracks echoed through the crisp autumn air.

Oyodo’s body was violently flung to the side.

Kagura stifled the scream that almost escaped her throat.

In an instant, Momiyama’s rifle fired into the bushes, sending a hail of bullets.

"Commander!!"

With Momiyama’s signal, Kagura bolted forward.

I won’t forget you, Oyodo.

Watch over me. I will win.

Without pausing, Kagura ran past Oyodo’s bleeding form, her eyes catching the lifeless bodies of the enemy soldiers as she leaped onto the porch of the inner palace. There would be time to cry later.

Momiyama rushed after her, suppressing his own grief as he leapt over his friend’s body and took position behind Kagura. He wiped away the tears welling in his eyes and followed Kagura as she kicked open the wooden sliding door, stepping into the palace.

The room beyond was a polished wooden hall, empty of people. The sky, a deep violet-blue, spilled in from the open doorway.

There was no need to conceal her presence anymore. Kagura quickly crossed the hall and grabbed the handle of the next sliding door. There was no lock. Leaving her fate to luck, she slid it open.

A short corridor. To her left, a wall; to her right, two doors, likely leading to chambers. At the far end, the corridor bent to the right.

The exact layout of the inner palace had remained a mystery during their reconnaissance. It was a place of daily life for the Emperor, not a formal audience hall. However, Kagura knew there couldn’t be too many places to hide.

Without hesitation, she kicked open the closest door.

Immediately, she was met with the muzzle of a rifle.

Kagura ducked and lunged forward just as the soldier fired.

Her hair scattered in the air. Someone screamed.

Her blade connected. The sensation of life extinguishing tainted her hands. If she let her guard down, her body would dissolve as if it were being unwoven from the inside.

I don’t care.

I am no longer human.

Soaked in the spray of blood, Kagura stepped into the room.

"Uwaaah!!"

Someone screamed, scooting backward on the floor in fear, their voice shrill and piercing.

Kagura looked down at the Imperial Guardsman she had just slain with a thrust through the neck. It wasn’t her brother, Yukihira. Feeling a bitter sense of relief at her luck, Kagura kicked the corpse deeper into the room.

"You insolent wretch! Do you realize where you are!? To spill blood in the sacred grounds…!"

The man shouting, leaning against the wall of the study, was none other than Lord Ryosou Kuzuha, the chief chamberlain. He had noble lineage, but he had always been a sycophant, following Prime Minister Kuonji’s orders without question.

Covered in blood, Kagura had abandoned all remnants of humanity.

Without hesitation, she pointed her sword at the aging chamberlain’s throat.

"Take me to the Emperor."

"Y-you think I would…"

"The Imperial Guard has surrounded Kyonagi. Can’t you hear the artillery?"

Kagura made sure the chamberlain could hear the distant sound of exploding grenades. The grenades were portable, but their loud noise could easily be mistaken for the sound of large-caliber artillery by someone unfamiliar.

"If I don’t secure the Emperor in time, our 24cm artillery will destroy both the main palace and the inner palace indiscriminately. That’s the plan. You’d better lead me to him if you want to protect the Emperor."

Of course, it was a lie. The Imperial Guard was still stationed in Misato, and there were no artillery units. The claim that portable grenades were large-caliber ship guns was pure bluff, but it didn’t matter. So long as Kuzuha could later claim that Kagura had tricked him, that would be enough.

"Wh-who would ever..."

"The Imperial Guard Division has already surrounded Kyonagi Palace. Can't you hear the sound of their cannons?"

Kagura let the chamberlain listen to the distant sound of mortar fire. A mortar is a portable grenade launcher, but its firing sound is so loud that ordinary people can't distinguish it from the sound of a large-caliber cannon.

"If we fail to secure the emperor in time, our 24 cm artillery will destroy the main palace and inner sanctum without distinction. That was the arrangement. There’s no time. If you want to protect the emperor, guide me immediately."

Of course, this was a lie. The Imperial Guard Division was in Misato, and there were no artillery units. Claiming that the portable mortars were the same as large-caliber guns mounted on heavy cruisers was a ridiculous bluff, but it served its purpose. As long as the chamberlain could later claim, "I was fooled by Kagura's lies," it would be enough.

The chamberlain, Kuzuha, was likely half-skeptical. Or perhaps he didn't believe it at all. But if he fell for the bluff, at least he could escape the immediate threat of the sword before him.

"Wait, I understand. Th-this way..."

Kuzuha forced his trembling legs to move and led Kagura and the others down the hallway.

With Kuzuha at the front, they passed through several rooms that seemed to be bedrooms. A few trembling handmaidens peered at Kagura with fear. Covered in blood from head to toe, with blood still dripping from the tip of her sword, Kagura walking through the sacred halls must have looked like a demon. Ignoring them, Kagura followed Kuzuha to the end of the corridor, where they stopped.

Kuzuha removed several floorboards, revealing a hidden door beneath. When he lifted the trapdoor, a narrow ladder leading underground appeared.

Kuzuha turned back and said, "Down here."

"You go first."

"P-please, spare me."

"Go!!"

Kuzuha bit his lip, knelt on the floor, and shouted into the darkness below.

"I-it's me! Don’t shoot! I must urgently report to His Majesty! Time is of the essence, do not shoot!"

Kuzuha's voice echoed down the stairs and then faded away.

Kagura made Kuzuha descend first to ensure it was safe, then placed her foot on the ladder.

The space was cramped and damp, with no escape routes. Her heart pounded in her chest. With each step down the ladder, she could almost hear the turning wheels of history.

Ahead, the emperor awaited. The imperial seal awaited. The fate of the nation was about to fall into her hands.

As she descended the ladder and set foot on the cold ground below, the dim light of a naked bulb illuminated the underground tunnel, casting an orange glow on the wooden beams reinforcing the walls. The low hum of the ventilation system echoed eerily through the shaft. The ceiling was low, and the corridor narrow—two people could barely pass by without one pressing against the wall.

"Don’t shoot!! Do nothing, it’s me! Don’t shoot!!" Kuzuha waved his hand as he led the way. There was no doubt an Imperial Guard was lying in wait. Kuzuha was the only one they could rely on. Kagura hid behind him, with Momiyama following close behind as they walked deeper into the eerie tunnel.

Suddenly, from a recess in the wall ahead, an Imperial Guard pointed the muzzle of his gun in their direction.

When Kuzuha shouted for him to stop, the guard only partially revealed his face. Kagura pressed the tip of her sword against Kuzuha's back.

"Make him drop his gun."

"D-drop your gun!! The battle is already decided! There's no need for more bloodshed!!"

Though the fierce fighting above ground continued, Kuzuha parroted Kagura's bluff. Just as he had easily obeyed Prime Minister Kuonji, it seemed his top priority was self-preservation. He truly was a convenient lackey, Kagura thought, as she watched the guard toss his gun to the ground.

As they advanced, they disarmed two more guards in the same way. Each time, Momiyama handcuffed the guards and gagged them, leaving them on the floor. Initially, the plan had been to storm the barracks, capture the entire Imperial Guard, and stage a bloodless coup without giving them any chance to retaliate, but by now, such measures felt hollow.

"It’s further ahead."

After advancing about 200 meters underground, Kuzuha stopped and turned to Kagura.

The walls were earthen, reinforced with wooden frames, and there was an iron door embedded in the wall.

Without a word, Kagura nodded toward the door, signalling him to open it.

Kuzuha took a deep breath and knocked.

There was no response. Traditionally, the emperor would come out of his chambers to receive visitors for official business. But now, there was no sign of the door opening.

"His Majesty appears to be indisposed. Let’s come back later."

"Go in."

"I cannot. No one but His Majesty and the Empress are allowed into the royal chambers."

"This is not the time to say such things! Go in!!"

"Please understand, I cannot violate the imperial decree. We should check elsewhere."

It was clear Kuzuha was stalling, hoping the Imperial Guard would return while they argued.

Kagura, deep in thought, turned to Momiyama.

"You go back and bring reinforcements."

"But—"

"You must inform the others of the route to this place. Please, go back."

Momiyama's face was filled with anguish. If both of them entered the room and were killed, the location would remain hidden once again. There was no time to waste. Biting back his personal feelings, Momiyama saluted.

"Stay safe, Commander Kagura. You are vital to this nation’s future."

With those words of respect, Momiyama turned and retreated down the tunnel.

"Choose—either die or break the decree."

After confirming Momiyama had left, Kagura pressed her blade to Kuzuha's throat and threatened him. Resigned, he called out for permission to enter with a trembling voice.

"It is I, Kuzuha. Your Majesty, we are in a critical situation. May I come in?"

Kagura found the formalities agonizingly slow, but there were customs within the imperial court. Even a chamberlain could not enter the emperor’s chambers without permission.

There was no response. Kuzuha’s trembling hand reached for the door handle.

"Excuse me..."

The loud creak of the hinges echoed through the hall. The door opened inward. Pushing Kuzuha inside first, Kagura cautiously nudged him toward the direction in which the door had opened. Leaving her feet in the corridor, she surveyed the room, ensuring no one was hiding, then slowly stepped inside.

If anyone were hiding, it would be behind the door. For now, Kuzuha’s body acted as a shield, protecting her from any surprise attack.

Holding her sword pointed at Kuzuha, Kagura entered the centre of the room and made him close the door. There was no one in the only blind spot. Kagura sighed with relief and calmly surveyed the small underground chamber.

For a royal chamber, it was bleak. The room was about 12 tatami in size, with only minimal furnishings. The light came from a single naked bulb. The only thing that stood out was a large vault embedded in the wall. A curtain hung at the back of the room, but it was dark beyond it.

The emperor was supposed to be sleeping behind that curtain... but.

There was no trace of a human presence.

With her sword still pointed at Kuzuha, Kagura boldly called out to the figure behind the curtain.

"I am Commander Kagura of the Shinmei Division. Your Majesty, though it may be impolite, I have come to humbly report."

There was no response.

Something was definitely off. If the emperor were bedridden, there would normally be attendants such as the Empress or handmaidens, yet no one was here.

"Is he really here?"

"He is sleeping. Please don’t disturb him any further."

Kuzuha's words had a faint scent of deceit. Kagura’s gaze turned sharp.

"Open the curtain."

"Please, stop this. Do not go any further."

"Open it!!"

"Mind your tongue, you are in His Majesty’s presence!!"

As Kuzuha screamed in desperation, Kagura responded with a slash of her sword.

With a powerful swing, the blood flew from the blade, splattering across Kuzuha's face.

"Hiya...!!"

“This is the last chance… Open the curtain.”

Her voice carried a genuine threat. There was no more time. If need be, she was prepared to cut off one of Kuzuha’s limbs.

Kuzuha’s cheeks trembled as he muttered something unintelligible under his breath. He staggered like an old man as he approached the curtain and, with shaking hands, lifted it.

As expected, there was no one behind the curtain. Not even a futon on the bed.

“I told you to guide me to the emperor.”

“...He was here. The emperor was here…”

Kuzuha suddenly lost all vitality and, shockingly, sat down on the bed as though collapsing. The once strict adherence to courtly manners was completely gone. If any of the Imperial Guards were present, they would have swiftly separated his head from his body for this reckless behaviour.

“The emperor is no longer here. He passed away a year ago. No matter how thoroughly you search the surface, you won’t find him…”

Kuzuha covered his face with both hands, speaking weakly.

That’s a lie. He’s lying in a desperate attempt to keep the emperor and the imperial seal from being taken. Kagura pinned Kuzuha’s right arm to the bed and pressed her blade to his elbow.

“Tell the truth. If you don’t, I’ll cut it off.”

“It’s the truth…!! Prime Minister Kuonji hid the emperor’s death. To preserve the national polity, to continue the war, the emperor’s body was secretly buried.”

“Don’t push your luck...”

“If the people had learned that the emperor died at the same time as the Imperial forces landed on the mainland, the nation would have collapsed. To prevent further chaos, the Supreme War Council decided to keep the emperor’s death a secret for a year. I had no choice but to follow Kuonji’s orders…”

Kuzuha’s words, though shocking, were spoken haltingly.

Kagura was left in confusion. She wanted to believe Kuzuha was lying, but did this coward really have the guts for that? Could it be true? Could the emperor truly be dead?

“If maintaining the national polity was the goal, they could have just transferred power to the Grand Prince. Isn’t that the simplest solution?”

“The Grand Prince is anti-war. He despises Prime Minister Kuonji. Kuonji feared that if the Grand Prince seized power during the chaos a year ago, the war would end immediately…”

Kagura’s breathing quickened. She was torn, unsure how to decide.

A year ago, in October of the Imperial Year 1350, the St Vault Imperial Army had landed in the Kingdom of Keiken and conquered the Kanan River region. It was a time when the country had to choose between a decisive battle or surrender. If the Grand Prince had taken control at that critical moment, as Kuzuha said, the country would have surely chosen surrender. If Prime Minister Kuonji had hidden the emperor’s death to avoid that outcome, then it would make sense why the emperor was no longer here.

But there was still a possibility that Kuzuha was lying. The emperor might be hidden elsewhere, and Kuzuha could be trying to deceive Kagura with a premeditated lie to protect the emperor.

There was no way to determine the truth right now. But first, she needed to achieve one of her objectives.

“…Where is the imperial seal?”

“It’s over there, in that vault…”

Kuzuha pointed toward a large vault embedded in the wall.

“Open it.”

She lifted the blade from his arm, and Kuzuha, staggering, slowly approached the vault, turning the dial. With a heavy creak, the vault door swung open, and he retrieved a gold and silver decorated fukusa silk wrapper.

“Th-this is it…”

Inside the opened fukusa was a small box, intricately engraved with gold. Inside, there it was—the object she had been searching for.

A golden seal adorned with cherry blossoms and a spiralling dragon, with the words “Imperial Seal” engraved on it.

The authority to turn personal will into national policy.

“This is the imperial seal…”

She took the heavy gold seal into her hands.

Kagura began to understand the obsession that had consumed Prime Minister Kuonji. Such immense power, now resting in the palm of her hand… its dangerous allure…

There was no time to be mesmerized. She returned the seal to the box, wrapped it back in the fukusa, and placed it into her travel bag, then turned her attention back to Kuzuha.

“You’re coming with me. If it’s true that the emperor has passed, you will testify before everyone.”

“I-I understand.”

If the emperor’s death was true, then only three members of the Supreme War Council and Kuzuha knew about it. Kagura needed to verify the truth and, if it was confirmed, ensure that Kuzuha testified in detail. Therefore, it was necessary to take him into custody.

“Move…!”

She prepared to leave the chamber with Kuzuha leading the way, but then—

A shock ran from the top of her head to her lower abdomen.

Instinctively, she shoved Kuzuha aside.

The space where he had stood split apart.

Without thinking, Kagura’s finely-honed body jumped back.

Emerging from the split space was Yukihira Murasaki, drenched in blood.

The tip of the sword he held at the ready swung upward, aimed at Kagura.

—Brother…!!

A diagonal slash from his side to her shoulder.

The flash of his sword, like a bolt of lightning, Kagura narrowly avoided it at the last moment.

Her back hit the earthen wall. There was no room to swing her sword horizontally.

Yukihira showed no hesitation.

Even as he recognized his opponent as Kagura, his expression didn’t change, and now he was charging again, preparing another lethal blow.

“Brother!!”

Her brother’s sword, raised high above, was poised to strike down again.

From the reverse kesagiri diagonal cut, to a downward kesagiri.

With movements so fast she could barely blink, Kagura dodged by twisting her body, then swung her sword down toward Yukihira’s legs.

With a loud clang, their two swords clashed.

At the same time, Kagura leaped to the side near the curtain, positioning herself in a low right stance.

“The emperor is safe. Kill her, Yukihira!!”

Kuzuha quickly circled behind Yukihira and shouted in a raspy voice.

“She stole the imperial seal! It’s in her bag—get it back!!”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Upon hearing Yukihira’s reply, Kuzuha stumbled toward the exit of the chamber, casting a sneer at Kagura.

“The emperor is alive!! At this moment, he is safe and sound in his hidden refuge!! You’ve been completely fooled, you little girl—now, die here!!”

With those words, he disappeared into the tunnel.

Is the emperor alive or dead? The truth remained unclear. But Kuzuha could not be allowed to escape. Kagura wanted to chase after him, but Yukihira stood in her way.

“…!!”

She raised her resentful eyes toward her brother, whom she hadn’t seen in years.

Yukihira didn’t say a word.

There was no reprimand, no questioning, no lament for his little sister.

He simply stood there, his entire body radiating a cold, burning intensity. With his left hand gripping the hilt, he held his sword horizontally, pointing the tip directly at Kagura.

It was a stance she had never seen before. They had faced off hundreds of times, and she thought they knew each other’s techniques inside and out, yet here was a form she had never witnessed from him.

Her brother was serious. As she realized this, a chill of fear ran down Kagura’s spine.

Out of the hundreds of times they had sparred, she had only won a few. And even those victories were purely due to luck and favourable circumstances.

And now, in this situation—far too close to engage in proper combat.

The space in the royal chamber was too confined to allow for any dramatic swordplay. If her blade missed its target and struck the earthen walls or the furniture instead, her body would be sliced in two in an instant. She had to win with the smallest number of moves, minimizing any waste of effort.

As she shuffled sideways, calculating the distance between them, she observed her brother.

The blood on his face, hair, and chest was still fresh, not yet dry. It was new. Whose blood was it?

—Momiyama...

He must have encountered Yukihira while passing through the inner palace and was cut down. There was no escape for Momiyama in the narrow corridor when facing Yukihira.

Staring intently at Yukihira, Kagura thought of the comrades who had fallen on the way to reach this point.

She remembered her comrades who had been shot down during the paratrooper drop, those now fighting against heavy machine-gun nests, Oyodo, and Momiyama.

She channelled the weight of their entrusted hopes into her blade, directing it toward her beloved brother.

Sentimentality wasn’t needed.

Only her conviction mattered.

If there was anything she possessed that surpassed her brother, it was this conviction.

Friends, comrades, lovers, family—all people who should love one another were killing each other, and innocents were dying. She carried only one wish: to end this war.

—I must defeat my brother. No matter what method I use.

Kagura’s eyes burned intensely, piercing through Yukihira.

This body, honed through years of training, was her weapon.

Not just through her practice with Prince Daitoku, but also through her time at the Air Hunt Officer Academy, with the Voltec Air Unit and the Kusanagi Air Unit, where she had relentlessly pursued swordsmanship training with like-minded comrades. All of her discipline and training had surely led to this very moment.

The longer the fight took, the more disadvantageous it would become for her. Now that Momiyama was dead, there were no allies who knew of this royal chamber’s location. But the enemy did know. The more time passed, the greater their numbers would swell.

At the moment Kagura resolved that it didn’t matter if she lost one or two limbs, Yukihira’s sword tip began to move.

Slowly, it traced a circle as if to bewilder her.

Kagura steadied her breathing, entrusting everything to her body. Her resolve was clear: to cut through flesh and sever bone. She let that resolve sink deep into her instincts.

Like a ghostly flame trailing behind—

The circle became a spiral.

“...!!”

Suddenly, Yukihira’s steel blade curved around, aiming for Kagura’s neck.

Kagura barely managed to block it with the back of her sword. The deflected blade spun through the air, this time slashing downward at her thigh.

—You can have it.

Kagura didn’t care. As long as it wasn’t a vital area, she would sacrifice it.

She swung her sword overhead and aimed for her brother’s temple with all her strength.

Blood splattered.

A searing pain shot through Kagura’s right leg.

She groaned involuntarily as her stance faltered. Yukihira immediately jumped back, effortlessly evading Kagura’s desperate swing.

Kagura mustered all her strength, shifted her weight onto her left leg, and took a half-crouching stance.

Yukihira was unscathed. A quick glance at her wounded leg revealed that blood was gushing from the gouged flesh, forming a pool on the floor. Her right leg was nearly useless now. Facing Yukihira with such a handicap would make the fight nearly impossible.

Yukihira did not miss his opportunity.

He suddenly launched a rapid succession of thrusts. Kagura managed to parry them, but without the use of her right leg, she couldn’t react in time to his second and third strikes.

She retreated.

Pressed back to the wall, she scraped against the earthen surface, desperately fending off his continuous attacks.

It was like the fencing techniques of a St Vault Imperial soldier, wielding a rapier.

The fifth thrust grazed her left upper arm, drawing more blood.

“Ugh…”

She bit back her groan, using a defensive strike to deflect the blade while sidestepping away from the wall, repositioning herself closer to the centre of the royal chamber.

“Hah… hah… hah…”

She barely managed to catch her breath as she locked eyes with Yukihira. She reminded herself to remain calm. Losing Oyodo and Momiyama had stirred a boiling anger within her, but she had to stay focused.

Once again, Yukihira gripped the hilt near his right eye, leveling his blade horizontally and pointing the tip directly at her.

—The narrow space makes him rely on thrusts…

Keeping a wary eye on Yukihira, Kagura let her thoughts cool.

—The walls and furniture limit his ability to make wide slashes…

She couldn’t win with a clean fight.

But perhaps if she fought dirty, exploiting the situation, there might be a slim chance of victory.

Now that she had injuries on her thigh and upper arm, she had no choice but to use everything at her disposal to defeat her brother.

“Why, brother?” Kagura suddenly asked. Yukihira didn’t respond. His gaze, as sharp as steel, remained fixed on her every movement.

“What are you protecting, brother? Do you not know that the emperor has passed?”

She tried to unsettle him with words.

“You’ve been deceived by Kuonji and Kuzuha. Please, sheath your sword. I can show you proof of the emperor’s death.”

Of course, there was no such proof. But for the first time, Yukihira’s brow furrowed slightly.

“We have no reason to fight. Now that the emperor is gone, isn’t it only logical for the Grand Prince to ascend to the throne? What you’re protecting is Kuonji, not the nation. You’re being deceived. Please, wake up.”

Yukihira, who had remained silent even while wounding her, finally spoke.

“Enough with your nonsense.”

“Then answer me. Have you seen the emperor at all in the past year?”

Still poised for combat, Kagura asked her question.

Internally, she prayed desperately that her bluff would work. If Yukihira had seen the emperor, everything would end here.

Yukihira didn’t respond. But in this case, his silence likely meant “no.” Perhaps Kagura’s words were beginning to reach him.

—If my brother still thinks of me as the Kagura from long ago…

—Then I might have a chance.

The way of the samurai condemns cowardice. A dishonourable warrior must pay for their sins with their life.

But during her studies in the St Vault Empire, Kagura had learned that, no matter how dishonourable the tactics, the victor is the one who is right. It wasn’t about who was right or wrong—it was simply a difference in philosophy.

—I’m fine with being a coward.

If she could defeat Yukihira, she would even sell her soul to the devil. She wouldn’t regret sullying both her body and mind. Because if she didn’t defeat Yukihira and deliver the imperial seal to her comrades, the future would be forever sealed away.

“Please, sheath your sword. I have documents proving the emperor’s death in my bag. I’ll show them to you. Once you see them, you’ll understand. Please, brother, stop this.”

With a face that looked almost ready to cry, Kagura pleaded. As she spoke, she shuffled her feet, positioning herself with the curtain at her back.

Yukihira’s gaze wavered slightly.

“Throw the proof on the floor.”

His voice was devoid of any emotion as he gave the command.

Kagura nodded, still holding her sword in her right hand as she opened her travel bag with her left. Inside, there was only the imperial seal.

It didn’t matter.

She was betting the future of the world on this.

With firm resolve, Kagura slowly pulled out the fukusa holding the imperial seal, raised it meaningfully in front of her brother, and then let it fall from her hand.

The small box struck the wooden floor with a dull thud. The sound was loud, owing to the heavy golden seal inside.

“…”

Yukihira’s eyes briefly flicked to the floor.

In that split second—

Kagura grabbed the curtain behind her, ripping it down and throwing it at Yukihira.

“!?”

The curtain twisted and flailed like a wave, obstructing Yukihira’s vision as he looked up.

A flash.

The curtain, now sliced in two, fell to the floor.

Blood soaked into the curtain, spreading rapidly.

The pool of blood expanded in an instant.

The fukusa Kagura had thrown also absorbed the blood, turning crimson.

Yukihira collapsed to his knees. The sword he had been holding dropped beside his knee.

His knees and the sword were drenched in blood. He glanced down at Kagura’s wakizashi (short sword), which had pierced his abdomen, watching as his blood spilled across the royal chamber floor.

Kagura retrieved the imperial seal, placed it in her travel bag, and kicked Yukihira’s sword to the corner of the room.

Then, she knelt beside him and bowed her head.

“…The emperor’s fate is unknown. The words I told you, brother—I don’t know if they are true.”

Yukihira’s hand touched the hilt of the wakizashi, then his eyes turned to Kagura.

“You threw it?”

In the Murasaki family, even the wakizashi was considered the soul of a samurai. It was a strict rule to grip the hilt until death; throwing it was an act of dishonour.

“You have been tainted, Kagura.”

“I will soon follow you, brother. I’ll face the consequences then.”

“I will not forgive you.”

With these bitter words, Yukihira, still on his knees, collapsed face-down onto the floor.

Kagura etched his curse deep into her soul and left the royal chamber.

Dragging her wounded right leg, her body covered in blood—her own, her brother’s, and others’—the now blood-soaked Kagura ran.

—I will accept any punishment.

As she ran, she silently apologized to the lives she had taken.

—I will atone for it all.

—But until the Grand Prince ascends, please let me do as I must.

By now, the second and third squads were surely detaining Prime Minister Kuonji and the two high-ranking officials. After imprisoning them, she would use the imperial seal to issue a forged decree and conduct the enthronement ceremony. Then, she would bear the entire burden of her sins alone.

The soul she had polished so purely until now had long since fallen, becoming that of a coward who had killed her own brother.

Now a rebel who had stained the sacred grounds with blood, a heinous criminal who had murdered her own flesh and blood through treachery, Kagura ran toward a future without war, abandoning even her humanity.

Part 15 (Part 6 of Volume 8)

The only duty of Queen Nina Viento of Urano was to approve the resolutions of the royal government.

The government was composed of the Senate and the House of Commons, but the House of Commons, which gathered representatives from the general populace, was a body that could be easily manipulated by the Senate. In reality, power resided with the senators—members of the noble class who belonged to Urano’s elite.

The Urano monarch was nominally granted veto power over government decisions, as well as the authority to issue imperial decrees. Founders like Ulysses and the previous king, Ortega, had frequently issued decrees, using them to eliminate opposing nobles and cement their absolute power within the court. However, this was only possible because they had strong family ties within the court. Nina, lacking such blood connections, could not wield such authority, no matter how much she might desire it.

One year and ten months since her coronation. Laws, ordinances, policies—various documents had passed across Nina's desk, and for all this time, she had signed them without being able to refuse. Even reports about the war, which a queen should naturally be informed of, were not coming to her properly.

A completely powerless puppet.

Nina had accepted this reality when she took the throne, and she was aware that if she lost the support of her backer, Pope Illustriali, she could be exiled from the City of the Sky as soon as tomorrow. However, she had no intention of remaining a mere figurehead forever.

There was the monthly Council of Sages.

In the past, this prestigious council had decided national policies through closed-door discussions between the king and two or three influential lords. Now, it had become merely a formality—a place where the top few members of Urano’s elite gathered once a month to exchange information, gossip, and barbs, all while putting on a show of unity. The content of their discussions was irrelevant; the real point was for participants to signal to their political rivals that they had been invited to the council.

However, for Nina, it was her only opportunity to express her will to the two men who truly ruled Urano: Pope Illustriali and Supreme Military Commander Demistri.

The meeting was customarily held in the special room known as the “Onyx Chamber,” within Nina’s residence, the “Heavenly Palace” in the Ulysses Palace. In this small room, just large enough for three people to sit around a small table with their toes touching, some of the most important policies had once been decided, policies that brought disaster to both heaven and earth.

And now—

Nina Viento entered the Council of Sages with a resolution in her heart.

Imperial Year 1351, October, Pleiades, Ulysses Palace, “Heavenly Palace, Onyx Chamber.”

Up until now, Nina had always felt suffocated during these meetings. She had no right to speak and was forced to read Pope Illustriali’s expressions while enduring Demistri’s aggressive rhetoric. But the time had come for her to take action. With the Second Isla Fleet having arrived in the Archipelago Sea, now stationed in the Kingdom of Sylvania and preparing for a decisive battle with Urano, doing nothing would render her reign meaningless.

She had taken the throne precisely to avoid a war with the Isla Fleet.

The time had come to fulfill her role.

In the small room, just the three of them, without any aides.

Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with rare volumes of Urano’s secret histories, accessible only to the king and a few high-ranking lords. The furnishings consisted of a small, old-fashioned table and three chairs, their backs engraved with images of Saint Aldista. If the three leaned forward slightly, their foreheads would nearly touch, making the distorted face of Demistri and the wrinkled smile of Illustriali uncomfortably close.

In contrast to the fiery-tempered Demistri, Illustriali always smiled serenely. His white hair and eyebrows, his deeply sunken eyes and wrinkled face, and his frail body, almost like that of a teenage boy, gave him an appearance far older than his 68 years. Despite his calm demeanour, as head of the Church of Saint Aldista, he held immense influence not only in Urano but also over the faithful on the surface. Illustriali never spoke of politics in front of Nina, usually only exchanging a few polite words about daily life or health before sitting back and smiling as Demistri delivered his lectures.

After the usual exchange of pleasantries, discussion of court ceremonies, and gossip about the nobles, Nina finally gathered her courage to bring up politics.

“Is a decisive battle with the Isla Fleet truly necessary?”

In that moment, Demistri’s already twisted expression contorted even further. But Nina continued, undeterred.

“They must want to negotiate with Urano. If we send envoys, they will surely respond, just as they did during the negotiations at the Holy Spring. Before resorting to military force, shouldn’t we explore diplomatic solutions?”

Demistri’s face turned as red as an apple. Nina had seen it so many times before that it didn’t faze her anymore. She could already predict what he would say next.

“Do you really think those barbarians understand human language!?”

Just as she expected.

“They attacked our Archipelago Fleet without warning! Where is there room for negotiation? We must crush them completely, or the honour of our military will be tarnished!”

He slammed his fist on the table so hard that spittle flew, his voice a thunderous roar. Meanwhile, Illustriali simply smiled as usual.

Nina calmly wiped her face with a handkerchief and then looked Demistri squarely in the eyes.

“In February last year, at the Holy Spring, the Second Isla Fleet requested negotiations, but Urano attacked them unilaterally. Is that not correct?”

For a moment, Demistri’s expression faltered.

Nina pressed on with the information she had learned from a former senator with whom she had a close relationship.

“This was two months after my coronation, wasn’t it? Why was I not informed of this? Could you explain that, Commander?”

Demistri swallowed his words and tried to smooth the wrinkles on his brow.

“…It’s those Micene supporters, isn’t it? I’ve heard you’ve been getting cosy with them. Do you think you’ve secured the Senate’s favour by doing that?”

Nina took a deep breath and raised her determined gaze.

“Why did you attack them? Please, answer me.”

Demistri let out a low growl. Clearly, he was feeling the pressure. Until now, Nina had always stayed silent no matter how much he yelled. But today, she was standing up to him.

“…I am the Supreme Commander. In times of crisis, I act on my own judgment.”

“But I was not informed of this matter.”

“It was a minor incident. There was no need to report it.”

“Moving an entire fleet is a minor incident?”

Demistri’s jaw shifted noticeably to the right. Nina had seen many of his expressions over the years, but this was a new one, twisted in a way she had never seen before.

“You ordered an attack on the Isla Fleet without my approval. Doesn’t this violate the constitution, which grants me supreme command over the military?”

Nina continued to press, knowing full well that Demistri wasn’t one to be swayed by reason, but she could no longer tolerate his unilateral actions.

“The constitution is nothing but a smokescreen to manipulate the people.”

Demistri responded dismissively, his words hoarse.

“I won’t let the military be run by a woman’s whims.”

He didn’t hesitate to voice his inner emotions, throwing them at Nina without restraint. Demistri was a surprisingly straightforward opponent.

“Commander, this isn’t about a woman’s whims. It’s the will of the monarch. And this is not a casual discussion by a village well—it’s a meeting about the future of Urano. My words are backed by the support of the citizens, and I ask that you respect that.”

“…”

“It’s not too late. We should send an envoy to the Isla Fleet. Do you have any objections?”

Without letting his crude words provoke her, Nina calmly pushed her agenda. Demistri, still fuming with anger, found himself unable to make a quick decision.

“First, we negotiate. We should hear their demands, consider our own situation, and seek a solution that benefits both sides. If we strike immediately, we will only waste resources and lives.”

“…”

“I’ve already consulted with Foreign Minister Micene. He believes that the same group who met with Amelia, the Isla Fleet’s foreign minister, six years ago would be best suited for the task. Amelia is a wise woman. I’m certain that if we meet at the negotiating table, we can find a solution that works for both sides.”

“…”

Demistri didn’t respond, but his gaze was filled with seething hatred.

“What is your opinion, Your Holiness?”

Nina turned to Illustriali for his view.

“As Your Majesty wills,” he responded calmly, smiling as usual. The elderly man immediately sided with Nina and glanced at Demistri.

“It seems His Highness is not entirely convinced.”

Even when Pope Illustriali was addressed, Demistri merely cast a gaze filled with all the negative emotions he could muster toward Nina, refusing to answer. Although Nina felt a deep sense of disgust in response to his look, she maintained a calm exterior.

“I understand that a decision cannot be made immediately. However, I believe we should always begin with dialogue.”

“Perhaps this is enough for today. We can discuss specific plans at a later time,” Illustriali suggested.

“Yes, I expect the Foreign Minister to bring this matter to the next cabinet meeting. I sincerely hope it will be approved.”

When Nina mentioned that she had already spoken with Foreign Minister Micene, Illustriali nodded once, while Demistri’s face twisted into an even more unrecognizable form.

The elderly Illustriali was the first to stand and leave the Onyx Chamber. His attendants, who had been waiting in the adjacent room, greeted him as he exited. Next, Demistri slowly rose from his seat and walked toward the narrow room’s exit before turning back to face Nina.

“I know what you’re up to.”

“…?”

“Kal-el Albus. That’s your man’s name.”

For a moment, Nina’s eyes hardened. Now, in this confined space, it was just her and Demistri, with no one else to hear what was said.

“You became queen for a man, you wretched harlot.”

His gaze and words wrapped around her like vines, seeping into every fibre of her being. The sheer revulsion was too much, and she found herself stepping back involuntarily.

“You will pay for the sin of bringing disgrace upon Urano.”

Demistri spat his curse before slamming the door shut.

Nina was left alone in the dark room.

Perhaps she had moved too soon. Maybe she should have gathered more allies in the Senate and laid stronger groundwork before acting. A flicker of regret ignited within her, but given the situation, she had no choice but to take some risks.

—Above all, I must prevent this battle.

—I became queen to stop this senseless war…

She reminded herself of this resolve as she took a deep breath and opened the closed door with her own hand.

After the Council of Sages concluded, Pope Illustriali, surrounded by five attendants, left the Heavenly Palace. It took about fifteen minutes to walk from there to his personal quarters within the Ulysses Palace. As he walked slowly, his serene smile never faltering, he called out to the small man leading the way.

"Atori."

Atori, ranked first among the S-class operatives of the Patriotis, responded without turning back.

"Yes, Your Holiness."

"Deliver a message to Zenon. Tell him to send the doll to the prince."

"Understood."

Atori acknowledged the order and turned a corner in the hallway. By the time Illustriali reached the same corner, Atori had already disappeared. A different attendant took the lead, and Illustriali continued walking down the long corridor as if nothing had happened.

As he walked, he recalled the beauty of Nina, whom he had observed up close in the Onyx Chamber. And beside her, the pitiful figure of the prince, whose mind and body had been twisted by her beauty.

Nina Viento—the wise, noble, and beautiful queen, prophesied as the saviour in ancient myths.

The end of a life continually toyed with by strange fates was all too clear to Illustriali. Now that she had lost his backing, her only true support, Nina had no future.

"She became queen because she had no roots in the court," Illustriali murmured to himself, still smiling.

"But when you side with those beneath you, this is what happens."

In the depths of his sunken eyes, there flickered the colour of a demon king who ruled over a nest of sinister spirits.

"To end up as nothing more than the plaything of a foolish prince..."

Whispering such unsettling words, Illustriali silently counted the next candidates for Nina's replacement as he strode down the long corridor, his serene smile unbroken.

The dream from long ago refuses to fade.

A summer sky, towering clouds. A field of rapeseed flowers. The high-pitched chirping of a bird.

A boy with black hair.

Ah, am I seeing this dream again?

"I’m going to marry Kiyoaki!"

I’m laughing, wearing a tiara made of rapeseed flowers.

"And then, I’ll give Kiyoaki a silver ring! That completes the ritual, and our love will be eternal!"

Even though I was the one who trampled on that dream.

Even though I shattered it so thoroughly it could never be repaired.

How much longer will I cling to this dream?

When I wake up, once again, I feel tears trailing down my cheeks.

“Pathetic.”

Wiping the tears from her eyes, Mio stared up at the familiar ceiling of the servant’s bedroom and berated herself.

“…The worst.”

As if it were part of her daily routine, she continued to insult herself while sitting up, placing her hands over her eyes, trying to push out the lingering emotions.

It had been three years and one month since she had betrayed her comrades, thrown insults at Kiyoaki, and left Air Hunt Island. She had thought that with time, her memories would slowly fade, and the pain would vanish—but that had not happened. The pain was deeply rooted within her, extending from her nervous system’s core to its farthest reaches, never letting go. Occasionally, it would resurface, cutting through her insides and wearing her down.

—This is what I deserve.

How can I complain about this level of pain? It’s nothing compared to the wounds I inflicted on Air Hunt Island, the officer academy, and my comrades.

After scolding herself again, Mio got out of the rough wooden bed.

Next to her, Kiliai was lying down, watching her with a mischievous smile as she asked, “Who’s Kiyoaki?”

It seemed she had once again muttered that name in her sleep. Fighting to control her reaction, Mio replied, “Oh, did I talk in my sleep again? It’s the name of a monster that often appears in my dreams. No matter how much I run, it keeps chasing me.”

“Really? What’s it like?”

“Well, it’s this huge, disgusting thing with an awful colour, and it makes this ‘Wee-Wee’ sound while frogs pour out of its mouth. Super scary.”

“Oh my, and you want to marry this monster, huh?”

Wondering how much she had said in her sleep, Mio continued to play dumb.

“It chases me, saying, ‘Marry me, Wee~,’ until I agree. I’m just avoiding it, that’s all. Anyway, we need to prepare breakfast. Let’s hurry.”

Mio forcibly ended the conversation and began changing into her maid uniform. Kiliai, still grinning, did the same, slipping into her uniform as they prepared for the day’s routine. The important Council of Sages had concluded the previous day, and from today, the busy schedule would resume.

Last night, after the meeting ended, Nina, having shed her royal garments, spoke briefly with Mio about the council. As expected, Demistri had been furious, but Pope Illustriali’s response had been positive. Nina felt hopeful that, with the pope’s continued support, she might be able to exert some control over Urano’s military movements.

Mio thought it would be wonderful if things turned out that way.

Although it was too soon to be optimistic, perhaps it was time for Nina’s luck to change. Nina had been used by others, sacrificed herself constantly, and never once in her life had she experienced true happiness. After enduring so much, Mio felt that it was time for the gods to smile on her.

If the war could end with a peace treaty between the surface nations and Urano, and Kal-el could lead the Second Isla Fleet to Pleiades, greeted by confetti, fanfare, and the blessings of the people, and if Nina could reunite with her fated one, it would be the perfect happy ending she deserved.

Dreaming of such a future, Mio headed to the servants' mess hall. It was 5:30 in the morning. In the kitchen, the chefs were already preparing Nina’s breakfast. The ever-punctual head steward, Ulshyrra, sat at the table, scanning through several newspapers.

“Good morning,” Mio greeted as she sat down across from Ulshyrra, who looked at her sharply over the top of her glasses.

“…The Seven of Eriadore, was it? You, Reiner, Queen Elisabeth… And now, Colonel Balthazar Grim, currently serving in the St Vault Imperial Army…”

“Uh, yes…?”

Mio was a bit surprised to hear Balthazar’s name come up from Ulshyrra. Glancing at the newspaper she was reading, it appeared to be a St Vault publication. Sometimes, Foreign Minister Micene, with whom Ulshyrra had close ties, would receive newspapers from the surface. Perhaps something about Balthazar had been mentioned.

“Is there something about Balthazar?”

“…It seems his reputation has risen considerably. He’s reportedly anticipated Urano’s military strategies multiple times and has earned the title ‘Strategist of Achilles.’ It’s said he’s now General Raphael’s trusted right-hand man, responsible for drafting key strategies.”

“Really!? That’s incredible…!!”

Ulshyrra handed the newspaper to Mio, who eagerly accepted it and began reading. A familiar frown from Balthazar stared back at her from the accompanying photo, while the article detailed his numerous accomplishments. Not only had he earned respect within the Imperial Army’s command, but he had also been appointed as a military advisor to Queen Elisabeth of the Sylvania Kingdom, now holding responsibility for the fate of the Archipelago Sea.

“Balthazar is amazing. He really is…”

A smile broke out on Mio’s face, one she couldn’t suppress. During their time at the Air Hunt Officer Academy, he had completely ignored Mio’s will, forcing her to attend high-ranking officers’ parties, treating her like a coffee maker, and insisting she make sandwiches to his exacting specifications. During the Eriadore airship’s dangerous missions, he had even suggested leaving Mio behind, yet afterward boasted that he had led the crash landing to save her. He had truly been the worst person. But even as she reminisced about those times, her frustrations faded in light of his accomplishments, though she couldn’t quite shake the realization that he was still an awful person. Still, hearing of a former comrade’s success brought her joy.

Mio clutched the newspaper to her chest.

“May I keep this newspaper?”

“Feel free. There are other pages as well.”

“Wow, wow, Balthazar is doing so well.”

“No, not about Colonel Grim. There’s an article about the remaining members of the Seven of Eriadore.”

Mio froze at Ulshyrra’s words.

“The remaining members…?”

“Yes. Sakagami Kiyoaki and Illia Kreischmidt. There’s an article about the two of them in another St Vault newspaper.”

Mio’s heart skipped a beat.

Ulshyrra, noticing Mio’s sudden pallor, continued.

“…It seems that Queen Elisabeth requested them personally. They are now serving with the Sylvania Kingdom’s fighter squadron, the Valkyries. Illia recently transferred officially, becoming a member of the kingdom’s military. Sakagami Kiyoaki, driven by his loyalty to the Akitsu Federation and his sense of justice, deserted the Federation Army and joined the Valkyries alongside Elisabeth…”

Ulshyrra’s words echoed inside Mio.

She couldn’t respond.

“Illia and… Kiyoaki… are in the Valkyries…”

That much, she understood.

So, Illia and Kiyoaki had chosen to fight under the banner of Elisabeth, or rather, Cecil. The Valkyries were known as the strongest fighter squadron in the world. Yes, it was the perfect environment for the two of them to soar together.

Yes. It’s good that they found a place where they belong.

That’s good…

“…Mio, are you all right? You look pale.”

Ulshyrra’s cold voice brought Mio back to reality.

“Eh? Oh, no, I was just surprised… Well, more than a little surprised, but I’m fine.”

“…Do you want to read the rest for yourself?”

“Ah, yes, thank you…”

With trembling hands, Mio accepted the newspaper and began to read the relevant article.

It was just text. There were no pictures. As she scanned the words, her emotions swirled.

…The Valkyries of the Sylvania Kingdom, renowned as the world’s strongest fighter squadron. After the tragic death of their captain, Akmed, during the Second Battle of Sierra Greed, the vacant captaincy was filled by Captain Sakagami Kiyoaki. Having fought with the Imperial, Federation, and Kingdom forces, Sakagami now boasts nearly 300 confirmed kills, and it is expected that he will soon rival the greatness of his predecessor. Illia Kreischmidt, now deputy captain, supports Sakagami as they undergo intense joint training with the Isla Fleet’s air units, preparing for the inevitable showdown with Urano. These two rare pilots, both born in the same era and soaring through the same skies, have transcended their parents’ histories. Together, they now defend the skies over the Archipelago Sea as the Valkyries' wings. As long as they fly, Urano will not be able to lay a finger on the Archipelago Sea… and so on.

Mio read the article twice.

Her hands, which had been trembling at first, finally steadied as she raised her tense face.

Ulshyrra asked, “...Are those two also acquaintances of yours?”

“...Yes. They were comrades... from when we broke through enemy lines together on the Eriadore airship,” Mio answered, adding the past tense, trying to calm the rapid beating of her heart. Her racing thoughts gradually began to settle.

—Kiyoaki... is the captain of the Valkyries...

—Illia... is the deputy captain...

—They both joined the Sylvania Kingdom for Cecil...

She processed the information. After more than three years of no contact, her first reaction was relief that they were alive. Then, the pain came.

She didn’t know the name of this pain. She didn’t want to. All she knew was that the complexity of her emotions left her feeling lost, ashamed, and on the verge of tears.

—Of course. They’ve both become aces of the Archipelago skies now...

—They’re working hard to keep Urano at bay from above...

Mio tried to cut off the lingering feelings inside her, mentally whipping herself.

—Don’t hold on to regrets.

—I’m a traitor. I don’t even have the right to worry about them...

Ulshyrra’s stern voice broke through her thoughts.

“Were you particularly close with the two of them?”

Mio flinched, startled, and hurriedly replied, “Ah, well, not exactly... It’s just been a long time since I’ve heard their names, and it made me feel a bit sentimental...”

“...I see. But for their accomplishments to reach even this far, they must be truly remarkable individuals, the Seven of Eriadore.”

“Haha... Yes, everyone except me is truly exceptional.”

“That’s not true. You are plenty exceptional, Mio. Your intelligence, your character, and your courage.”

Mio was taken aback, unsure how to respond. She had been used to being watched carefully by Ulshyrra, but never praised like this.

“W-What’s this all of a sudden? It’s flattering, but...”

“Mio.”

Ulshyrra remained as upright and composed as ever, but her tone suggested that she had something important to say.

“Yes?”

After a brief pause, ensuring they were alone, Ulshyrra spoke.

“I hope that, no matter what happens, you will act as an ally of Her Majesty.”

A faint current of tension coursed through Mio’s mind as she grasped the underlying meaning in Ulshyrra’s words.

“Yes, that’s my intention.”

She accepted it easily. After all, words were easy.

“I’m glad.”

Ulshyrra replied emotionlessly, her gaze returning to the newspaper. Mio pressed further.

“Is there something you’re concerned about?”

Without looking up from the article, Ulshyrra spoke calmly, “There are unsettling movements within the court.”

“...”

“As Her Majesty grows closer to certain powerful nobles, those who are displeased with this have begun to stir. It’s possible they’ve already laid the kindling beneath the Heavenly Palace.”

“...”

“All that’s left is for someone to pour the oil and strike the match. Or perhaps the oil has already soaked into the wood. It’s difficult to know for sure, as we can’t see beneath the floorboards. We can only sense that something is stirring below.”

Ulshyrra sighed lightly, still scanning the article as she continued, “When the kindling is set alight, those close to Her Majesty will need to be wise. Who will protect Her Majesty? Who will put out the fire? Who will flee? And for those who flee, what will be the best way to serve Her Majesty afterward? Only those with such wisdom will be able to navigate what’s coming.”

There was something unnervingly significant in her measured words. Mio realized that Ulshyrra was sharing something of grave importance.

“You possess that wisdom. When the time comes, I hope you will use it for Her Majesty.”

“...”

“For your friend, Nina Viento, your strength is needed.”

That final statement tightened Mio’s chest.

It was clear now that Ulshyrra had been observing Mio closely. Despite her efforts to keep her friendship with Nina hidden, it had been uncovered. Ulshyrra had likely pieced it together from Mio’s behaviour and her subtle shifts in loyalty, realizing that her allegiance had begun to lean toward Nina, or rather, toward Nina. And now, in this private moment, Ulshyrra had chosen to confront her with this truth.

From the first moment Mio met Ulshyrra, she had found her unsettling. Ulshyrra never revealed her own emotions yet seemed to have the ability to examine Mio’s every move as if dissecting her. She wasn’t someone Mio would have wanted to get close to.

Yet, Mio could sense that Ulshyrra’s actions were always in service of Nina. No matter the method, regardless of how others perceived her, Ulshyrra was determined to protect Nina. That much was painfully clear.

So, Mio wove sincerity into her response as best as she could.

“...I understand. When the time comes, I will act for Nina.”

Not for Zenon Kavaris.

For Nina Viento.

I will risk my life.

“I expected nothing less from you.”

Ulshyrra finally looked up from the newspaper, her eyes behind her glasses meeting Mio’s. For a moment, Mio thought she saw a faint smile cross Ulshyrra’s usually stoic face.

The formidable new fleet of Urano's Archipelago forces spread out before Zenon Kavaris’ eyes. This fleet, far surpassing the old one destroyed by the Second Isla Fleet four months ago, had gathered at Martios Naval Port, just beyond Pleiades.

“It’s time for some bullying, isn’t it?”

Zenon looked out from the fifth floor of the naval base's command post, surveying the more than a hundred warships spread across the bay. From destroyers to regular aircraft carriers and battleships, these airborne vessels, ranging from 100 to 200 meters in length, swarmed the sky like locusts, dominating the azure expanse. These were only the airborne warships equipped with levitation devices, while over two hundred seafaring vessels lacking such equipment were conducting daily exercises nearby, preparing for the imminent showdown.

“In truth, there shouldn’t even be a need for a decisive battle.”

Urano’s Chief of Staff, General Achilles Karamakion, responded to Zenon’s words. The aged general, who had driven the St Vault Empire to the brink of collapse, had originally opposed the formation of this new fleet.

“Why fight a decisive battle at all?” Achilles had questioned. The St Vault Empire, having been driven from its homeland and barely surviving in the colonies of the Archipelago, could be gradually choked off with attrition warfare, ensuring victory without effort.

“Do you think we’d lose in a decisive battle?” Zenon asked, though he already knew the answer. Achilles shook his head.

“We would win, no question. Unlike land battles, where terrain plays a role, naval battles are a simple numbers game. The side with the more advanced and numerous ships wins. Our fleet is twice the size of theirs, and our equipment is a generation ahead. There’s no contest.”

“Then why not go for the decisive battle? Attrition warfare is tedious.”

“The St Vault Empire has 1.7 million soldiers stranded on the Akitsu continent. They can’t withdraw. If we maintain this situation, they’ll weaken on their own. There’s no need to stand them up and shoot them like starving animals.”

It was Achilles who had spent over two decades forcing the St Vault Empire into a two-front war, weakening them slowly. The Empire, believing in the defence of the Kukuana Line, had opted to fight both Urano and the Archipelago powers simultaneously—a decision that had sealed their fate. Now, with their homeland lost, they were trapped in a costly stalemate, squeezed between Urano and the Sword Emperor Kingdom in the east and west.

And yet, Demistri insisted on settling matters with a decisive naval battle, leading to the formation of this new fleet.

“Marshal Demistri seems determined to defeat Prince Manius,” Zenon observed.

“They say Prince Manius was the one who provoked the Isla Fleet. That man is just as unpredictable as Demistri,” Achilles replied. Manius, Demistri’s half-brother, had been too brilliant for his own good, exiled beyond the Holy Springs by the Senate. Yet, Manius had returned, leading the powerful Second Isla Fleet directly in Demistri’s path.

“However, the formation of this new fleet has raised morale. Even the citizens are eager for a decisive battle. It has its uses as a spectacle,” Zenon added.

Achilles snorted in response. “If they say fight, I’ll fight. Ending this nonsense with a decisive victory isn’t so bad if it stops the comparisons to that fool, Raphael.”

The St Vault Empire’s Chief of Staff, General Raphael, had been bested by Achilles in every encounter. To Achilles, being compared to such a third-rate strategist was an insult, but this upcoming victory would solidify his place as one of history’s great commanders.

“I hear Balthazar Grim is making a name for himself on the other side,” Zenon mentioned.

Achilles twitched slightly at the name, acknowledging it with a grimace. “That young upstart who saw through Operation Judeka.”

“Yes. He also foresaw the breach of the Kukuana Line’s airborne defences,” Zenon added.

“There’s no denying he’s capable. But he’s too young to lead a general staff. Even if he sees through our strategies, they won’t matter unless they’re executed.”

“Still, it seems his voice carries more weight in their command. They’re calling him ‘Achilles’ Strategist’ now,” Zenon noted.

Achilles scoffed, though he appeared intrigued. “Let the boy lead if he wants. The odds are so stacked in our favour that it hardly matters. Perhaps he’ll give us some excitement.”

Achilles had also been a young genius, rising quickly through Urano’s ranks. It was his brilliance that had allowed Urano to expand its dominion over the surface powers. If a similar talent had appeared in the enemy’s ranks, Achilles was eager to see what the young strategist could do.

After discussing the fleet’s future movements for a while, Zenon shared something he had learned the previous day from Atori.

“…Pope Illustriali has decided to replace the puppet.”

“Oh?” One of Achilles' eyebrows lifted in mild interest.

“The operation is tonight. In the Heavenly Palace.”

“That’s rather sudden.”

“The puppet was too intelligent, too virtuous.”

“How ironic. The noble and the brilliant are cast aside, while the vulgar and ordinary are elevated to the throne,” Achilles mused, gazing out at the immense fleet gliding through the blue sky. Once the deed was done, Demistri’s authority would be unshakable.

At that moment, Kiliai appeared beside Zenon.

“The preparations are complete.”

Kiliai knelt, bowing her head deeply, not making eye contact with Zenon.

“Good. You weren’t noticed by Mio, were you?”

“No, sir.”

“Well done. You don’t need to return to the Heavenly Palace tonight. After tonight, Nina will be discarded. I’ll assign you a new task.”

“It’s an honour.”

Zenon turned to Achilles. “I believe Kiliai is one of your favourites, isn’t she?”

Achilles cleared his throat. “Not while she’s on duty.”

“My apologies. Kiliai, we’ll speak later,” Zenon said. Kiliai briefly hesitated before acknowledging the order.

Kiliai was one of Zenon’s hand-raised female spies, skilled in seducing high-ranking officers and extracting secrets from them. It was a method male spies could not use, which made female operatives like her invaluable.

Speaking of female spies...

—I should start training Mio in that direction soon.

After dismissing Kiliai, Zenon continued his idle conversation with Achilles while contemplating his next move.

Tonight, a coup would strike the Heavenly Palace, but Zenon had not informed Mio. Kiliai and Hachidori were already aware and waiting for their moment.

Why hadn’t he told Mio?

—That girl is leaning toward Nina.

From the reports Kiliai and Hachidori had provided, Zenon had picked up on it. Apparently, Mio and Nina were playing at being friends in secret. Yet Mio had never once mentioned this to Zenon, sending only cursory reports about her daily life.

—Tonight, I’ll see whose side you’re really on.

Zenon licked his lips in anticipation.

Frankly, it wouldn’t matter much if Mio betrayed him. She was just a pawn, insignificant in the grand scheme of things. But as a toy, she presented an interesting challenge.

—If your loyalty to me is genuine, then good.

In that case, he would keep her as she was, training her into a clever and beautiful pet who would carry out his orders faithfully, no matter how twisted they were.

—But if you side with Nina, then you’ll need to be re-educated.

In that case, he would bring her back under control, using her family as hostages, and personally break her until she could never defy him again. That, too, would be enjoyable.

—I don’t mind either way, Mio.

As visions of her body floated behind his eyelids, Zenon indulged in fantasies of how he would toy with her future. In contrast to the grim business of dealing with demons like Demistri, Achilles, and Illustriali, Mio was a delightful diversion. He could enjoy her slowly or break her quickly.

—I’m looking forward to tonight.

As the time for the coup approached, Zenon sent a silent message to Mio, who would likely be playing at friendship with Nina in the Heavenly Palace.

“The fact that we didn’t see either Reiner or Kiliai all day is odd. It’s rare for both of them to be off together. Maybe they’re slacking off,” Mio said, her voice carried by the night breeze as the autumn insects chirped under the starry sky.

“I’m not sure, but everyone needs a break sometimes. What about you, Mio? Aren’t you taking any time off? Are you getting your proper days off?” Nina replied, sitting with Mio on the balcony of the Heavenly Palace, enjoying a cup of tea together after a long day.

“Oh, I don’t really need a break. Even if I had one, I wouldn’t know what to do with it.”

“That’s not good! I’ll tell Ulshyrra. You should at least go shopping with Reiner or something, take a breather once in a while.”

“I don’t need it. I like working. Besides, Nina, you never take a break either. Why not go shopping with Igna sometime?”

“Why Igna? He’s the last person for that kind of fun. He’s still hung up about that last outing.”

“Oh... he really is... He shouldn’t worry about it so much,” Mio muttered, sipping her iced tea. She was referring to the incident earlier that year when she had been shot while protecting Nina during an outing. The bullet had missed any vital organs, and the small caliber had left no lasting effects, but Igna had still apologized to her afterward, quite out of character for him.

‘I... failed. I put you through this... and I’m sorry,’ Igna had said, lowering his head as Mio lay in bed. It had been so out of place that Mio didn’t know how to respond. She had tried to brush it off with a joke, but Igna had insisted.

‘You shielded Nina... I won’t forget this debt. If you need anything, just ask. I’ll do my best to repay you.’

That cold, emotionless man had clumsily, but sincerely, offered his gratitude, which had been so unsettling to Mio that she had yelled at him to leave. Though Mio no longer thought much about the incident, Igna clearly couldn’t let it go.

“Well,” Mio said with a mischievous smile, “since Igna says he’ll do anything for me, maybe I’ll take him up on that.”

“Don’t tease him too much. He’s so serious, he’ll take it all literally...”

“I want to get a picture of him cuddling a kitten, smiling and rubbing his cheek against it.”

“That sounds adorable! I’d love to see that. Do that instead.”

“Now you’re teasing him too,” Mio said, laughing along with Nina at the thought. But their playful moment was abruptly interrupted when the glass door to the balcony burst open, and Igna himself rushed in, looking frantic.

“Nina, excuse my intrusion. Mio, do you know where Kiliai is?”

“Kiliai? I saw her briefly this morning, but not since then.”

“After dinner, did you feel anything unusual, even the slightest change in your condition?”

“Uh, no. I didn’t have much of an appetite, so I didn’t eat.”

At dinner, Mio had barely touched her food and ended up giving most of it to her colleagues. Igna’s expression grew tense as she answered.

“There’s a high chance the dinner was drugged with slow-acting poison. All the servants in the Heavenly Palace have been reporting physical symptoms.”

“...What?”

“Some have started experiencing numbness in their limbs. Be on guard—something’s happening...!”

As he spoke, Igna suddenly dropped to one knee.

“Igna!” Both Mio and Claire knelt beside him in shock. His legs were shaking, and beads of sweat dripped down his forehead. His lips had turned slightly purple, giving him the pallor of someone gravely ill.

“Damn it... Kiliai wasn’t just the poison tester; she was the one administering it as well...!” he muttered, his voice laced with regret. Mio’s mind flashed back to Ulshyrra’s ominous words from that morning—something about the stacked wood beneath the palace now set alight.

And then they heard it: the sound of shattering glass in the distance, followed by a woman’s scream.

Voices rose in anger, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of military boots echoing through the Heavenly Palace. The peaceful routine was being trampled by violence.

“...!?”

“This is bad...!!” Igna growled, glaring toward the east side of the palace. “At least thirty armed men...!”

Mio couldn’t see anything, but from the sound alone, Igna had assessed the situation. His eyes, wild with urgency, locked onto Claire.

“Claire, you need to escape! Head downstairs and flee through the west servant's door to the salon. The Micene faction nobles will shelter you.”

For once, Igna addressed her as "Claire" instead of “Nina,” his tone commanding. The tension in the air was palpable, and even Mio could sense the overwhelming threat closing in on the palace.

“Claire, run. I’ll buy you some time!” Mio urged.

But Claire, her face tight with worry, shook her head. “But what about you two...?”

“We don’t have time! Go, now!!” Igna roared, grabbing Claire by the scruff of her neck like a cat and dragging her inside. He forcibly led her toward the west entrance, where the servants’ quarters were located.

“Let go, Igna!” Claire struggled.

“Run. They’re after you.”

“But what about you two...?” Claire’s voice was laced with fear, but the sounds of chaos—soldiers shouting, glass breaking, furniture smashing, gunfire—grew louder, as did the repeated cries for Nina. This was clearly a rebellion aimed at the queen.

The Heavenly Palace, despite its high security, had allowed a group of thirty soldiers to breach its defences. The only explanation was that someone with great authority had permitted their entry, and the plot had been meticulously planned. There was no time for a proper defence, and both Mio and Igna knew that Claire’s only option was to flee.

Igna, still dragging Claire, spoke earnestly. “I’m not the only one who swore to protect you. He did too. Until he arrives, no one will lay a hand on you. Now go. Stay alive, and meet him when he comes. He will come. He’ll come for you!”

“Igna!” Claire struggled, but before she could argue further, Ulshyrra appeared, rushing toward them.

“Your Majesty, come with me to the west exit. Mio, wear this to distract the enemy.”

Ulshyrra handed Mio a scarf and a long cape that reached her ankles. With the scarf covering her head, leaving only her eyes visible, and the cape draped over her, she could easily pass for Queen Nina from a distance.

“Igna, act as if you’re protecting Mio and draw their attention. Escape through the north exit. If all goes well, we’ll meet at the designated place,” Ulshyrra ordered.

“...Understood!”

Though Mio hadn’t been informed, it seemed that Ulshyrra had previously discussed an emergency escape plan with Igna. True to form, Ulshyrra hadn’t shared the location with Mio, one of Zenon’s subordinates, further proof of her cautious nature.

The voices of the soldiers drew closer. Someone was loudly declaring that they were conducting a search under legitimate orders, all while calling for Nina.

There wasn’t much time left. Mio, her face half-hidden by the cape, turned to Claire.

“Claire, stay safe. I’ll see you again.”

Claire, her expression tense, suddenly opened her arms and embraced both Mio and Igna.

“Don’t do anything reckless. Don’t die. Find a way to escape,” she said, her voice low and serious. Mio returned the hug with one arm around Claire’s back.

“I know. I’ll be fine. I’ve trained for this. I’ll see you again soon.”

Claire held back her tears as she lifted her face.

"Igna, you too. You need to survive and meet Kal again."

"...I know. I won’t die. Now go, quickly."

For the first time, Igna placed his hand on Claire's shoulder. There was something in his tone—something Mio had never heard before, a gentle, brotherly tenderness as if he knew this might be a final farewell.

Mio had heard stories that Igna and Claire had served together for over ten years, since they were children. Although they never showed it in public, Mio had occasionally glimpsed moments of closeness between them. It wasn’t a romantic connection but rather a familial bond, one that made them feel relaxed and safe in each other’s company.

She had also heard from someone that both Igna and Claire were alone in the world, with no family to rely on. Yet, despite the lack of blood ties, it was clear that they had grown into a brother-sister relationship, forged through the long years they had spent together. This was something Mio sensed in their interactions now.

"Your Majesty, we must go," Ulshyrra urged, hastening Claire. Reluctantly, Claire released her hold on both Mio and Igna. She glanced between them one last time and added a final request.

"If anything happens to me, promise me you won’t seek revenge."

"................"

"If it comes to that, forget about me and live your life freely for yourself."

"Claire, don’t say such ominous things..." Mio tried to object, but Claire cut her off.

"Mio, I’m giving you back the words you once gave me. Think about your own happiness. You deserve to be happy."

Claire spoke in a rush, then hardened her expression.

"Your survival is the top priority. Understood? That’s an order—survive."

Queen Nina Viento had just issued what might be her final order to Mio and Igna.

"...Understood. We will survive."

As Mio accepted the order, Claire gave a firm nod. She then turned and fled with Ulshyrra toward the western door, away from the clamour growing louder with every second.

After watching their queen disappear, Mio and Igna exchanged glances and quickly devised their plan.

"We’ll act as decoys. We have to draw their attention," Igna said.

"But you’re already badly affected by the poison. If we’re chased, it could be dangerous for you."

"...There’s no choice. We’ll fight as we flee. Can you manage?"

"Yeah. Hachidori trained me well."

Fortunately, Mio hadn’t been affected by the poison. With Igna weakened, she knew she had to take on more of the burden. Just as they braced themselves, the eastern door burst open, and five armed soldiers stormed into the room, swords drawn and eyes filled with murderous intent. Their gazes fixed on Mio, who was disguised as Nina.

"Is that Nina Viento?" one of the soldiers demanded.

Mio remained silent, hiding behind Igna as if terrified. Stepping forward to shield her, Igna spoke with calm authority.

"Bringing swords into the Heavenly Palace? You are aware that this is the queen’s residence, correct? State your business. Depending on your explanation, I may take you to Her Majesty."

It was clear he was stalling, trying to buy as much time as possible. The soldiers exchanged glances, and then a large man, wearing the ornate uniform of the Royal Capital’s elite knights, stepped forward to confront Igna.

"The queen is under suspicion of treason. There are allegations that she leaked the current location of Pleiades to the Second Isla Fleet. If she wishes to make a defence, she must come with us immediately."

"Under whose authority? Show me the warrant."

The officer’s face twisted in irritation as he turned to his men and spat, "Enough talk. Find the queen."

With that command, the soldiers moved forward.

"Please, Your Majesty, escape now," Igna whispered, just loud enough for the soldiers to hear. Mio nodded and ran for the northern door.

"That’s her! After her!" The soldiers lunged after Mio, but Igna blocked their path, drawing a short sword.

Three of the soldiers’ swords were knocked from their hands in an instant. Ignoring the pain coursing through his body, Igna turned and ran after Mio. But—

"Damn it!" His legs buckled, and his movements lagged behind. His body felt sluggish, his reactions a fraction too slow. The peaceful days spent in the palace had dulled his instincts, and he cursed his lapse in vigilance toward Kiliai.

He barely dodged a thrusting sword and retaliated with a kick, sending one soldier crashing into another. But just as he twisted to flee, a gunshot rang out.

The burning pain in his left arm told him the bullet had grazed him. Then came the sharp pain in his right shin and back—he had been slashed by a sword.

Almost instinctively, Igna switched his grip on his dagger, reversed the blade, and stabbed behind him without looking. His hand met resistance, the blade plunging into the shoulder of an enemy soldier. Blood splattered, and with the last of his strength, Igna stumbled through the eastern door, closing it behind him and securing the latch with Mio’s help.

"Igna, are you okay?" Mio asked urgently, kneeling beside him.

Leaning against the door, Igna collapsed to the floor and began to assess his condition. His left shoulder was gouged, leaving his arm almost useless. His right shin had been slashed, exposing bone, and his back was soaked with blood. The poison coursing through his veins made it hard to even stand.

"This is bad. I can’t fight anymore," he muttered as if it were someone else’s problem.

Mio’s face paled. "We need to escape. You know the palace better than I do. Lead the way."

The door rattled as the soldiers outside tried to break it down. It was sturdy, but it wouldn’t hold forever.

Closing his eyes, Igna weighed their options and came to a decision.

"The rendezvous point is Hedwig’s Tavern on Third Street in the Stefano District. Ulshyrra’s contact owns it. You go on ahead."

"And what about you?" Mio demanded.

"I’ll buy you time. Go."

"Absolutely not."

Without a second thought, Mio forced Igna’s left arm over her shoulder and hoisted him to his feet.

"What are you doing? We’ll never escape like this."

"We were ordered to survive. You’re her knight, so you should follow her orders."

"You think you can carry me? We’ll both die, and it won’t mean anything."

"Did you know I can carry twenty kilos for two days straight on a march?"

Gritting her teeth, Mio began dragging Igna down the corridor. His protests were met with a firm response.

"Let go of me! I refuse to owe her another debt!"

Mio glanced back at him with a defiant smirk. "Save the tough talk for when you’re actually useful. I’ll let you pay me back later, useless knight."

Igna’s blood stained Mio’s clothes as it flowed from his wounds. She didn’t bother wiping it away, focusing all her energy on moving forward.

"Let me go...!" he growled.

"Shut up."

"Just leave me here. I swear I’ll never doubt you again—just go!"

"Why do you want to look cool so badly? Sorry, no deal. It’ll be more fun watching you live with the embarrassment."

Mio took a deep breath, gathering her strength, and took another step forward.

"If you make it out of this alive, you’ll cuddle a kitten with a smile. I’ll take a picture."

With that, she exhaled and pushed forward, drawing on every ounce of her strength as she carried Igna closer to the palace exit, inch by inch, one agonizing step at a time.

Mio scolded herself to keep going, summoning every ounce of strength, courage, and even desperate resolve she had left. She pushed through the hallways, descended two flights of stairs, and finally reached the servants' quarters.

It was eerily empty—her colleagues either captured by the soldiers or fled. She didn't know which. Grabbing bandages and disinfectant, Mio stuffed them into her pockets. She gulped down water from a jug, bundled supplies into a sack, and tied it to her waist before slipping out the side entrance into the labyrinthine grounds of Ulysses Palace.

Before her lay the maze-like expanse of the palace. Fortunately, not a single enemy soldier was in sight. Whether they hadn’t yet located the exits or were lost in the maze themselves, Mio couldn’t tell. Igna, his voice hoarse, directed her.

“Turn right. Enter the third room. There’s a hidden door at the back that leads to a staircase. Take it down.”

“Got it. Guess all your exploring finally paid off,” Mio replied with a strained smile, glancing at the barely conscious Igna. Despite getting lost countless times, missing meals, and sometimes wandering the palace all night, Igna had insisted it would one day be useful. His self-made map of the palace was now their lifeline. The very maze that had once been a nuisance was now protecting them from the Royal Guards.

“We’ll make it. We will survive...” Mio promised herself as she once again hoisted Igna’s weight onto her shoulders, teeth clenched in determination, and began navigating through the palace. The labyrinth that often confused even its own inhabitants was now working to their advantage, leaving the soldiers far behind. As the sound of pursuit faded, Mio stopped to disinfect and bandage Igna’s wounds before continuing their escape.

After two harrowing hours, they finally made it out of the palace. Mio hailed a passing carriage and instructed the driver to take them to Hedwig’s Tavern in the Third District of Stefano, a notorious slum area—perfect for hiding from pursuers.

As the carriage rattled through the night, Mio sat cradling the unconscious Igna, his body limp from blood loss. She stared out of the window, praying for Nina’s safety.

Please, Nina... please be safe...

But alongside the worry, a dark suspicion gnawed at her, something that had been lurking in the back of her mind since the attack began.

Did Reiner... did Hachidori know about this?

Hachidori’s absence from the palace today seemed far too convenient to be a coincidence. Neither she nor Kiliai had been seen. Both of them were under Zenon’s command, which meant they could have known about the attack in advance.

So... you really are on Zenon’s side, aren’t you?

Mio couldn’t blame Hachidori for it. She knew about his circumstances—how he was forced into his role as an S-Class agent for the Patriotis to cover his ailing mother’s medical expenses. He couldn’t defy his superiors without risking everything, including his mother’s life.

That’s right. I can’t trust him...

Mio reminded herself of this hard truth, though it made her heart ache. Deep down, she had hoped Hachidori might have been loyal to Nina. She had allowed herself the faint hope that he might be on their side.

But no... Hachidori—Reiner—is the enemy.

As she reaffirmed the painful truth, Mio sat silently, rocking in the carriage as it rumbled through the dark night.

The following morning, the capital city of Pleiades, along with all Urano-controlled territories, was abuzz with the shocking news of Nina Viento’s fall from power and arrest.

Newspapers and radio broadcasts amplified the military’s official announcement, spreading it not only across Pleiades but to every corner of the world where Urano held sway. Carefully crafted by Zenon, the information that reached the public was altered to work against Nina. The narrative portrayed her as a dangerous infiltrator, sent by the Second Isla Fleet as a special operative to aid in their attack on Pleiades. She had supposedly manipulated the ancient prophecy and posed as the saviour, all while conspiring with her lover, Karl La Hire, to deal catastrophic damage to the Urano fleet. The one to unmask this fraud was none other than the great General Demistri, who couldn’t bear to see the people of Urano ruled by a treacherous fox. In his wisdom and bravery, he had rooted out the sickness within the palace. The announcement promised that more evidence against Nina would surface from the records hidden within the palace, exposing the full extent of her betrayal.

This flood of Demistri-aligned propaganda quickly swayed public opinion. Urano citizens soon came to view Nina as a traitor who had sold out their nation, while Demistri was hailed as a hero who had saved the country. With even her only ally, Illustriali, now siding with Demistri, there was no force left to counter this narrative. Within three days, Nina's reputation had been irreparably destroyed. The once-admiring citizens of Pleiades now gleefully mocked her, labelling her as a harlot who had sold the country for the sake of a lover. In homes, schools, workplaces, and street corners, they eagerly embellished and shared scandalous details of Nina's private life, relishing the chance to tear down their former queen.

By the end of the week, there were no supporters left for Nina in the capital. Former servants gave interviews to newspapers and magazines, describing a queen who, according to them, neglected her duties and indulged in affairs with various lovers. These stories, meticulously fabricated by Zenon and inspired by Demistri’s own sexual exploits, were presented as truths about Nina. The grotesque articles fuelled the public's derision, spreading worldwide. People everywhere—whether allies or enemies of Urano—now reviled Nina as a fallen saviour, someone who should burn in hell for her crimes.

As for Nina’s current fate, the public was told she was being held in a political prison within Ulysses Palace, where daily interrogations were taking place. The specifics of her judgment remained unclear, but speculation ran rampant. At best, she might face execution; at worst, she could be sent to work in a brothel in the city's poorest districts. The citizens, eager for revenge, submitted petitions to the judges, demanding the latter fate, while rumours swirled that Demistri had the power to make it happen. Regardless of the outcome, one thing was certain: Nina Viento had lost all authority, reduced overnight from the prophesied saviour to the vilest of sinners.

No longer did Nina Viento have any place in the capital of Pleiades.

Mio sat curled up on the windowsill, hugging her knees, staring at the rain hitting the glass.

The city outside was invisible through the blackened window. Instead, she found herself staring vacantly at her own reflection, captured in the glass.

It had been eight days since the coup, now called the "October Revolution" by the newspapers and radio broadcasts.

Here, on the second floor of the Hedwig Tavern in the Stefano district, Mio had been caring for the gravely injured Ignacio, waiting for Nina and Ulshyrra to return. But no matter how long she waited, Nina never came.

According to the news, Nina was imprisoned. The twenty royal guards from her Isla days, who had been stationed in the Ulysses Palace, were disarmed and sent to a prisoner camp. There was no mention of Ulshyrra in the papers, and her whereabouts remained unknown.

Mio looked back at the dimly lit, shabby room, where only a single candle burned. Ignacio lay on the bed, his body wrapped in bandages, unconscious from the severe blood loss and poisoning. They couldn’t call a doctor, as it might draw the attention of their pursuers. So, Mio had treated him with the first aid skills she had learned from Hachidori, but Ignacio was still in no state to move.

Helpless and lost, Mio could only sit there, hugging her knees, waiting for Nina and Ulshyrra.

—What should I do?

Alone, listening to the sound of rain, she felt her resolve weakening.

On this floating island, almost no one was left to support her. Everyone around her was an enemy. How could she possibly change this situation? She had no answers, and the feeling of hopelessness almost brought her to tears.

Then there was a knock on the door, and Hedwig, the tavern owner and one of the few remaining allies, poked his head in.

"I’ve brought some medicine. How’s Ignacio doing?" he asked.

"Ah, thank you. He’s been stable for the past few days," Mio replied.

"The antidote will take time. Even Ignacio needs to rest for a while longer. Don’t rush his recovery."

Hedwig, a man in his mid-thirties, was one of the royal guards Ulshyrra had brought from Isla. Valued for his loyalty, he had been running this tavern ever since arriving in Pleiades, quietly supporting the cause while blending in with the locals.

"There’s something in the paper that caught my attention," Hedwig continued, handing her a newspaper. It was a gossip rag for the masses. Mio took it, and her heart sank further as she read.

"Zenon..."

The name escaped her lips in bitterness.

The article said that the head of the Urano Intelligence Bureau, Major General Zenon Kavaris, had revealed in an interview that he had met with Nina Viento. According to the article, during her interrogation, Nina requested that her maid, Mio Syira, be summoned as a witness. However, since Mio had disappeared after the coup, Nina was in despair. Zenon allegedly urged that Mio should reveal her whereabouts immediately and testify to Nina's innocence, stating, "Mio must come forward to clear her former master's name."

"It’s a trap. You mustn’t go," Hedwig warned.

"I know. This is... Zenon’s way of sending me a message. He’s checking if I’ve betrayed him," Mio said, nodding.

Since escaping from Ulysses Palace, Mio had had no contact with Zenon. In theory, she was supposed to be under Zenon’s command, with no obligation to serve Nina. She should have returned to Zenon immediately, but she hadn’t. Instead, she was here, nursing Ignacio in a hidden refuge that Zenon couldn’t find, waiting for Nina to return. From Zenon’s perspective, this was clear betrayal.

And betraying Zenon meant...

—It means abandoning my family...

Mio’s adoptive father, Ethan Syira, had taken in eight orphaned children from around the world. But Ethan had been a spy for Urano, and his children had been branded as spies and were being hunted by various nations. Zenon’s influence had allowed five of Mio’s siblings to escape into Urano-controlled territory. Only Ethan, her adoptive mother Greta, and her brothers Dominic and Kazuki, along with her sister Bonita, remained, and they were currently on the run, their whereabouts unknown.

If she returned to Zenon, her family could be saved. As long as Mio remained his servant, Zenon would use his vast power to secure their release.

—If I abandon Nina and go back to Zenon, my family will be safe.

—There’s nothing I can do here. Staying here is pointless.

—Should I go back to Zenon for the sake of my family?

Mio’s legs trembled. Her heart shook.

Still holding the newspaper, she stood there, frozen.

"Mio..." Hedwig’s voice came softly, full of concern.

"You’re free to do as you wish," he said. "I’ll take care of Ignacio. The fact that you’ve stayed with us this long, even though this has nothing to do with you, is more than enough. I’m sure Nina appreciates it as well. Whatever you decide, we won’t hold it against you."

With those words, the kind royal guard quietly shut the door and went back downstairs.

Mio stood there for a long time.

The rain had stopped.

She set the newspaper on the shelf, then returned to the windowsill, hugging her knees once more.

For no reason at all, she felt like crying.

Ignacio was in a deep sleep, so she decided it was okay to cry.

Pressing her forehead against her knees, Mio sobbed quietly.

It was a face she could show no one, but at this moment, she just wanted to let her weakness out.

The world was full of malice.

She hadn’t wished for anything grand, hadn’t wanted to be loved by anyone special. She would have been satisfied just living an ordinary life, but even that wasn’t allowed.

She had hurt herself, treated herself poorly, endured endless pain—all for the sake of making sure someone she cared about could find happiness. And yet, the world kept throwing cruel choices at her.

Both paths led to despair. It was an impossible choice, and she couldn’t understand why she was always forced to choose the wrong one.

Why did God keep testing her with such cruel trials, again and again?

What was the point of choosing between these awful options?

Why did her continued existence have any value?

Was it even worth continuing to live?

Maybe it would be better if I just died, she thought. Then I’d be free. I could become nothing.

"I don’t know..."

Through her tears, she whispered.

"I don’t know what to do, Kiyoaki."

The name slipped out as she cried.

"Tell me. What should I do?"

Tears and snot streamed down her face as she looked up at the ceiling.

"Should I choose my family or my friend, Nina? Which one?"

Her tear-streaked, swollen face stared back at her from the reflection in the window, a face too pitiful to show anyone.

At that moment—

Tap, tap.

There was a sound at the window.

Startled, Mio turned her tear-streaked face toward the source of the noise.

Through the mess of her own tear-stained reflection, she saw a white bird superimposed over it.

“Fio...?”

Surprised, she opened the window. Fio flew into the room and landed on Mio's shoulder, letting out its usual fee sound.

Fio was trying to tell her something.

Suddenly, the words Nina had said to her about two years ago, back when she had been practicing wind-calling every night at Lamia Palace, echoed in Mio’s mind.

"Someday, Fio will help you, Mio. I just have a feeling."

Nina had said that after hearing about Fio’s mysterious abilities.

Mio gazed into Fio's eyes.

In the bird’s dark, pearl-like eyes, she suddenly saw a glimpse of the young Kiyoaki she had once known.

It was thanks to Fio that she had met Kiyoaki in the first place. On her first day after moving to the island with no friends, she had felt so lonely that she asked Fio to “find her someone destined to be in her life.” Fio had seemed to understand and flown off, leading Mio straight to Kiyoaki, who was working in a field with a straw hat perched on his head.

She also recalled another moment from her time at Air Hunt Officer Academy—when she and Kiyoaki had gone to see a movie together. They had been sitting at an outdoor café, drinking tea, when Fio, who should have been left at home, had flown down and landed on Mio’s shoulder. Both of them had been shocked, scrambling to feed the bird bits of bread.

"Fio is amazing. No matter how far away you are, it always knows where you are," Kiyoaki had said.

"Maybe it's because you were with me. Fio can find you too. After all, we met thanks to Fio."

A sudden realization struck Mio like lightning.

At the time, she had thought nothing of those moments, but what if—what if it all had meaning?

"I will crush Urano," Kiyoaki had vowed while gazing at the burning city of Odessa.

Destiny.

That word, often spoken by Kagura, pierced through Mio's thoughts.

—Was this why I was born into this world?

Why had those words embedded themselves in the core of her mind at this moment?

Mio suddenly understood their meaning completely.

“No way…”

Her mouth dropped open in disbelief.

Driven by some unseen force, she scrambled off the windowsill and rummaged through the cloth sack she had brought from Ulysses Palace.

She pulled out two things: Ignacio’s carefully drawn map of Ulysses Palace and the star charts she had been working on for years. Every night after training with Hachidori, she had aimed her instruments at the night sky, calculating Pleiades' current position. These logs, in the right hands, could reveal the city’s orbital path, speed, and exact location.

What would happen if this sensitive information were transmitted to an opposing nation?

What if a leader or advisor, desperate to bring down Pleiades, got hold of this information...?

“A-ah…”

Mio stared at the data she had recorded, her body trembling with fear.

She had always thought her life was meaningless.

She had believed the trials thrown her way by some cruel, whimsical god were pointless.

But now, she was starting to think she might have been wrong.

Meeting Kiyoaki. Her family being spies. Betraying her comrades in Eriadore and ending up in Pleiades. Meeting Nina. Meeting Reiner. Escaping from Ulysses Palace, lost and unsure of what to do.

All these seemingly meaningless events might hold new significance, if she could just make up her mind.

Her teeth chattered. Understanding the gravity of her situation, her entire body shivered. She wiped her tear-streaked face with a handkerchief and, despite her trembling legs, forced herself to move. She placed a small notebook on the wooden table and began writing down the most critical data from the star charts in tiny, precise letters.

Thanks to her training with Kiliai, she had learned how to write vital information in an incredibly compact space, using only a slip of paper the size of a postage stamp. She did the same with the map, rolling both into a slender coil, which she then tied to Fio’s leg as a "gift" for Kiyoaki.

Fio watched intently, as if it had known all along that this would happen.

Mio’s heart pounded in her chest.

What she was about to do could very well change the course of the world.

Tens of thousands, perhaps hundreds of thousands, of lives could be caught in the ensuing battle.

The world itself might break.

Once the message was secured to Fio’s leg, Mio, still shaking, climbed back onto the windowsill.

The rain had stopped, and the clouds had cleared, revealing stars shining through the gaps in the sky.

For a moment, Mio gazed up at the starry sky.

Thoughts and memories danced before her eyes like constellations.

"You deserve to be happy."

The words Nina had left her with.

"Kiyoaki doesn’t hate you. He knows why you left, even if you lied."

Reiner’s words when they reunited at Lamia Palace.

"Queen Nina, two of my most important comrades, Mio Syira and Reiner Beck, are still in Urano."

The words of her beloved friend, Cecil.

"Even if we become enemies, we will not hate each other.”

The words of Kagura, whom she deeply respected.

"Friendship is eternal."

The bonds of the seven from Eriadore.

The beautiful days she had spent with her comrades.

Now, after all the painful days in Pleiades, she could give new meaning to those past memories.

"We were born to be happy."

The words Mio herself had once told Nina echoed in her ears as she gazed up at the stars.

Mio spoke to the eternal lights above.

—Let's be happy.

—Not for anyone else, but for myself.

—To reach the best happy ending in the world.

"Hey, Kiyoaki."

She called out to Kiyoaki, even though she didn’t know where he was.

“Is it okay if I ask for something selfish?”

I’m the worst woman, someone who betrayed you, insulted you, and threw away everything I’d built up to run this far.

But… is it okay if I lean on you now?

“Help me.”

It’s embarrassing, but I’m completely stuck and can’t do anything on my own.

“I need you.”

You can call me a fool, mock me, and look down on me if you want.

But no matter how much time passes or how far I run, I still can’t forget about you.

“Please help me, Kiyoaki.”

My prince on a white horse.

Come to the Sky Capital, where the ground is crawling with enemies.

Come and save me, Nina, Ignacio… and all my friends still on this island.

“Come here.”

For some reason, I can see it now.

The Valkyrie banner fluttering over Pleiades.

The future where Kiyoaki’s squad—the strongest wings in the world—rules the skies of this city.

“Crush everything.”

Destroy Uranos.

“Fio.”

She called out the bird’s name.

Fio raised its head and looked at Mio.

Mio extended the back of her hand out the window.

Fio climbed down from her shoulder, walking across her arm and onto the back of her hand. It was like an angel ascending the staircase of the stars.

“Go to Kiyoaki.”

Fee, Fio chirped, just like always.

Then, it spread its white wings, slicing through the wind, weaving itself into the stardust.

Thousands of sparkling stars welcomed Fio.

Like a white ship sailing through a sea of stars.

Far away. To Kiyoaki. The white wings soared into the infinite glow without hesitation.

Mio just watched the starry sky where Fio had disappeared.

—Reach him.

That was her only prayer, and she stood there, gazing into the distance, watching over the bird’s journey as the night wind gently caressed her.

Part 16 (Part 7 of Volume 8)

Balthazar had no intention of meeting him until after he had taken control of the St Vault Empire.

But circumstances had forced his hand, leading him to this humiliating visit to that monster.

He gazed out of the car window with tired eyes, dark circles beneath them.

October 20th, 1351 Imperial Calendar, Northern Archipelago, Crossnodal Island

It had been just yesterday when he was ambushed by the treacherous assault orchestrated by Elisabeth. The precision with which it was carried out suggested meticulous planning. This morning, he was placed aboard the royal airship and flown over the Great Cascade to Crossnodal Island, where he was now being driven to meet the one person in the world he wanted to avoid most.

"I knew about your adventures on the Eriadore airship from the beginning, brother. You didn't exactly hide your activities," Simon Berner, sitting beside him in the back seat of the luxury car, spoke.

Balthazar didn’t like his brother’s tone, even after their long-awaited reunion.

"I never intended to hide. Anyone who wanted to follow me was free to do so. I had no intention of returning to that house anyway."

"That sounds just like you." Simon’s response was brief, as he shifted his gaze to the passing scenery of Crossnodal Island. The island had seen many battles, and now the Imperial Army, retreating from the Hydrabard Archipelago, was gathering here as a key defence against the Uranos Archipelago Fleet.

"I would have preferred to see you back at home. But thanks to Uranos’ invasion, we had to flee from Krista to this island's villa. It’s your first time here, right?"

"And our parents?"

"They’re at the Campanella Knights' territory. Three years ago, Father upset the chairman and got sent there."

"That’s a backwater wasteland in the Vestelant Continent. Nothing of note there."

"They seem to be enjoying themselves. Father never liked power struggles much anyway. Here's a postcard they sent last month." Simon handed Balthazar a postcard with a picture of their parents enjoying a seaside vacation. Balthazar snorted and handed it back.

"I don’t care."

Their parents, who had sent their son to the battlefield at their grandfather’s whim, were getting what they deserved. As long as they were happy, that was fine.

It had been eight years since Balthazar ran away from their home in Krista on the Mitterland continent at the age of fourteen. He had run with a boyish ambition, chasing a dream that was now almost within reach. And yet, here he was, humiliating himself by visiting his grandfather. He couldn’t understand why Elisabeth had insisted on this visit. Surely, their grandfather wouldn’t even remember the grandson who had left at fourteen, especially now, on his deathbed.

Meeting him now was meaningless.

Perhaps if he had taken control of the St Vault Empire first, he could have given his grandfather something to marvel at. But now, with nothing to show for it, he wouldn’t even register in Renior's eyes.

"I'm glad you came back, brother."

As the car passed through the gates of the grand villa, Simon spoke again.

"This wasn’t my choice. It was the queen’s command."

Technically, it was a threat, not a command, but there was no need to explain that.

"There are a lot of executives who want to meet the 'Strategist of Achilles.'"

"I'm not staying long. I’ll see the old man and leave. You’ll report that to the queen, and that’s it."

"That’s a shame. You could at least stay for dinner."

After driving through the sprawling estate, the outdated Gemini-style villa came into view, with its gaudy pointed roofs and faded walls. Vines clung to the structure, giving it an air of decay that matched the state of the monster inside.

As soon as the car stopped at the entrance, they were greeted by nearly twenty servants who lined up to welcome them. Without wasting time, Balthazar stepped inside the grand entrance.

"Would you like tea first?"

"No. Where’s the old man?"

"Impatient as always."

Balthazar wanted to leave this house, this island, as quickly as possible. He detested the grand paintings, the lavish furnishings, and the wall sconces. Everything in this place disgusted him. As they proceeded through the mansion, the musty, oppressive atmosphere only thickened, weighing down on him.

Despite himself, Balthazar felt his heartbeat quicken.

Each step forward seemed to send a strange chill through his nerves. He had faced countless death-defying situations since his mission on the Eriadore airship, yet the dense, oppressive aura of Renior weighed heavily on him, mocking his accumulated experience and gnawing at his body and mind.

—Even bedridden, this monster still can’t help but crush everyone around him.

As Balthazar muttered curses in his mind, they reached the door at the far end of the second floor, the most extravagant door in the mansion.

"The master is inside. Are you ready?"

Balthazar nodded in silence, and the butler knocked, announcing his arrival before opening the door.

The dense, suffocating air that had filled the room rushed out like a torrent. It was the same ominous aura he remembered from the past.

After briefly closing his eyes to brace himself, Balthazar stepped into the oversized bedroom.

Towering glass windows lined the walls, and the angled sunlight reflected off the polished marble floor. A birdcage near one of the open windows housed a bird with rare plumage, chirping softly.

In the centre of the room, a single black ebony bed with a canopy stood out.

An older gentleman, probably in his fifties, stood by the bed and greeted Balthazar.

"I am Wyzack, Chairman Renior’s legal counsel. We’ve been expecting you. This way, please."

Balthazar, following the lawyer’s lead, approached the bed.

"……………………"

Lying there was the monster, Renior Berner. His face was just as Balthazar remembered, twisted in a perpetual scowl as if he always had something bitter in his mouth. His sharp eyes were locked on Balthazar, glaring at him.

—Was he always this small?

That was Balthazar’s first impression. The facial features were the same, but his body seemed two sizes smaller, shrivelled like a dried-up deep-sea creature. Renior Berner was now a frail and distorted version of his former self.

Wyzack leaned down to whisper something into Renior’s ear.

The old man glared up at him in annoyance, shooing him away with a weak flick of his wrist. Without a word, Wyzack gave Balthazar a slight bow and gestured to Simon, who nodded, and the two quietly left the room.

"…………?"

For some reason, Balthazar was now alone in the room with Renior. This wasn’t what he had expected. He had planned to exchange a few words, perhaps throw in some snide remarks, and then leave, but that didn’t seem to be the case now.

The shrivelled old man simply glared at him from the bed.

Balthazar stood beside the bed, looking down in silence at what was left of the once mighty financial titan who had ruled the Archipelago.

The room was filled with silence once again, save for the occasional chirp from the birdcage. Balthazar had finally broken the tension, unable to bear it any longer.

“It’s been a while.”

In a voice surprisingly firm for someone on the brink of death, Renior Berner responded without missing a beat, “How’s the medic role treating you, brat?”

Balthazar was somewhat taken aback by his clarity.

“You remember me, then?”

“Do you have a brain, boy?”

The dismissive answer clearly irritated him, but Balthazar shrugged it off. “I’ve learned how to treat all kinds of injuries.”

He remembered how he’d thrown up countless times and begged for forgiveness when he first saw the soldiers' bodies and wounds, but none of that showed on his face now. Instead, he returned the remark with calm sarcasm, causing Renior’s already twisted expression to contort even further.

“Your rotten nature hasn’t changed, I see.”

“……………………”

“I can tell by looking at your face. A brat stays a brat, no matter how old he gets.”

“……………………”

“I heard something about 'the Eight Balls' or whatever. Look at you, playing make-believe with a bunch of lowlifes, acting all high and mighty.”

Balthazar assumed Renior was referring to "The Seven of Eriadore." The incorrect name and number were one thing, but calling them playmates was unforgivable.

“They’re not friends,” Balthazar replied, keeping his anger in check. “They’re my subordinates.”

Elisabeth or Kagura would’ve blown up at this comment, but with neither present, Balthazar felt it wasn’t worth the effort.

“Don’t correct me, brat. All you should do is nod along and agree with what I say.”

“……………………”

“Just because some fool like Raphael favours you, you’ve become arrogant. I’ve seen your kind many times before—young men riding high on their false genius, only to fall once the ladder is pulled from under them.”

“……………………”

“I can already see it—your pathetic face when your charade crumbles. You’ll be a sight to laugh at, the so-called genius revealed for the fool he always was.”

Balthazar had long known that Renior’s soul was a cesspool of malice, but hearing these insults face-to-face stoked his anger. Employees of the Berner Group might tolerate this abuse, but Balthazar wasn’t beholden to his grandfather. He was a strategist of the Imperial Army. He owed this old man no deference. With the two of them alone in the room, Balthazar could finally vent the rage that had been building for years. After all, Renior would be dead soon.

Feigning a relaxed demeanour, Balthazar ran a hand through his hair with exaggerated nonchalance. “Thank you for the unsolicited life advice, Grandfather. I’ve always aspired to live a life as magnificent as yours.”

“Stop smiling like that. It’s disgusting. I can see the filth behind your eyes.”

Balthazar’s smile widened as he sarcastically gestured to the bird in the cage. “It seems all your hard work has left you with nothing but this lonely bed, visited only by your lawyer and a bird. All that toil, all that scheming, just to end up here, without family or friends.”

Renior chuckled dryly, his voice dripping with mockery. “The bird is enough. Human company is tiresome. Dying alone suits me just fine.”

“I can’t say I envy you.”

“And you? Surrounded by your little friends, licking each other’s wounds? You think that makes you any less pathetic?”

Balthazar’s patience snapped. "I don’t envy your 'accomplishments' at all, old man."

Renior’s tone shifted slightly, a sliver of authority creeping into his voice. “Oh? You don’t envy my achievements?”

There was a subtle change—he wasn’t just hurling insults anymore.

“That’s right. I think everything you’ve done is utterly meaningless.”

Renior ordered abruptly, "Help me sit up."

“What?”

“I can’t do it myself. Help me up.”

The old man, looking like a shrivelled infant, raised his arms as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Balthazar hesitated for a moment, then begrudgingly helped him, supporting his back and raising him slowly.

“Not so rough, you idiot! Slowly!” Renior barked, panting as he finally settled in a half-sitting position, his fierce eyes locking onto Balthazar.

“Now, tell me,” Renior demanded. “What gives you the right to look down on my accomplishments?”

The man who had built the world’s largest conglomerate glared at Balthazar with the intensity of a steel blade. “If your reason is half-baked, I’ll kill you. You know very well that even the Imperial Army’s command can’t escape my influence. Who do you think is funding the empire right now?”

The old man’s words held weight, and for a moment, Balthazar felt a chill. But he steeled himself. He’d survived countless trials since running away, and he wasn’t about to back down now.

He decided then and there. He would crush this man.

Taking a deep breath, Balthazar began. “Very well. Let’s start from the beginning, when you were still just a loan shark. The secret to the Berner Group’s success lies in your early tactics.”

Renior remained silent, his eyes boring into Balthazar.

“You first set your sights on the Lindblum family in Vestelant. Surrounded by powerful lords, they had land but no money. So, you convinced them of an imminent threat, knowing that the quickest way to get a nobleman into debt is to make him build up his military. In exchange for lending them money, you secured various privileges, the most notable being tax rights over the lands they conquered using your funds. With your backing, Lindblum crushed its neighbouring factions one by one, and you gained even more privileges. But that was just the beginning of your cunning.”

Renior’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t interrupt.

“After Lindblum had subdued its enemies, you created a new threat. You knew that to control a government, it’s best to keep them in constant fear. So, you funded their enemies from behind the scenes, strengthening their military and then whispering in Lindblum’s ear: ‘There’s a new enemy, stronger than the last. You need more soldiers.’”

Balthazar’s voice grew more heated as he spoke.

“You realized that war creates wealth, and for war to continue, you need nations to keep competing with each other. You ensured that no one government became too powerful. Whenever one nation came close, you manipulated the international financial market to funnel money to its rivals. Your goal was always the same—never let anyone win.”

Balthazar could barely contain his fury as he concluded.

“The arms race had to continue indefinitely. You ensured that, as long as nations fought, you would profit. You sold the world’s future to fuel your own greed.”

Renior’s face remained impassive, but Balthazar could see the truth. His grandfather’s machinations had resulted in millions of deaths, children starving across the world, all to make the Berner Group fatter.

"You succeeded, all right. While the world tore itself apart, you gorged yourself on the profits. And now, after sowing disaster, all you have left is this isolation. Tell me, where is the joy in that? Where is the happiness?"

Balthazar’s voice trembled, not with fear but with a strange sadness. Looking at the old man lying in his bed, Balthazar saw the most pitiful figure he had ever known.

“I’m not like you.”

The words poured out, unbidden.

“I know what happiness is.”

He remembered Kagura’s smile, the warmth that had filled his chest as he carried her from the prison. This old man could never understand that feeling.

“You’ve won nothing, Grandfather. You’ve lost everything.”

In that moment, Balthazar made a decision. He wasn’t sure if it was his choice or some deeper instinct speaking.

“I’ll end this war.”

The words felt foreign to him, yet undeniably true.

“I’ll undo the chaos you created.”

Where had this come from? He didn’t know. But he felt it in his bones, in the very marrow of his soul.

“So don’t die yet.”

He was going to surpass the man he had chased all his life. He would go beyond him.

“Wait until I’ve ended the war, then die.”

That’s my gift to you, old man.

“I’ll clean up your mess.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Renior shouted, “Wyzack!”

The door burst open, and the lawyer hurried inside.

“Give it to him,” Renior commanded.

Despite all the insults, the old man showed no sign of emotion, speaking with calm authority. Wyzack bowed and moved to a hidden panel in the wall, retrieving a small envelope from a concealed safe.

“Read it outside,” Renior muttered. “Not here. It’s too damn suffocating.”

Balthazar took the thin envelope from Wyzack and glanced at his grandfather, unsure of what had just transpired.

“What’s with that stupid look on your face?” Renior snapped, his expression as sour as ever.

“Uh... my speech. What’s your response to it?”

Like a fool, Balthazar couldn’t help but ask.

Renior’s answer was cold and blunt. “Thirty-two points. Out of five hundred. The first half was decent enough, but the second half was a mess—too emotional.”

"Let me sleep."

"Huh?"

"I'm exhausted from listening to your pointless long-winded speech. Let me sleep."

"Oh, right."

Balthazar obediently supported Renior's back and laid him down, just as he had done earlier. Renior's body felt light, stiff, and as though no blood was flowing through it.

"Simon. You will be the witness. Read that letter together with him."

At Renior's call, Simon, who had apparently been listening from the hallway, peeked in with a somewhat awkward expression.

"...Yes, as you command."

"Hmph. I have no more use for you. You may leave now, brat."

Renior dismissed him roughly and closed his eyes. Balthazar, who had been bracing for some unimaginable retaliation, felt a bit deflated and could only turn his back on his grandfather.

Just as he was about to leave the room, a voice called out from behind.

"Balthazar."

"...?"

It was the first time Renior had addressed him by name, and he turned around.

"I’m counting on you."

The voice reached him from the bed, though Renior's face remained unseen.

"...Understood."

With just that, Balthazar left the room.

He closed the door behind him and exchanged glances with Simon in the hallway.

"You’re lucky to be alive, brother."

Simon, having likely overheard the entire conversation, was pale with fear.

"I was given this."

Balthazar pulled a sealed envelope from his pocket and held it up before Simon’s face.

"Let’s read it in the garden. I’m supposed to confirm it with you."

Agreeing, Balthazar walked alongside his brother, retracing their steps down the hallway.

Before long, they stepped outside into the courtyard.

The weather was clear and pleasant. The well-maintained lawn gleamed under the gentle sunlight. What had seemed gloomy when they arrived now appeared bright and radiant.

"Shall I open it?"

"Go ahead."

Knowing full well that Renior might have hidden some kind of razor blade inside, Balthazar cautiously opened the envelope.

Inside, there was only a single piece of paper.

The content was brief.

Last Will and Testament

The undersigned bequeaths the position of Chairman of the Berner Group to Balthazar Berner.

The undersigned also bequeaths all of their assets to Balthazar Berner.

October 20th, 1351 of the Empire’s Calendar

Signed, Renior Berner

Balthazar read it once and scratched his head.

He read it again.

The content remained the same.

He looked at his brother.

"What does it say?"

When asked, Balthazar tilted his head and read the brief statement once more.

"I don’t get it."

He handed the letter to Simon.

Simon read it over once, nodded, and returned the will to Balthazar with little surprise.

"I thought it might be something like this."

He showed no significant reaction.

"Let me explain. It wasn’t me who asked Queen Elisabeth to have you visit him. It was the Chairman. He probably wanted to assess your abilities."

"................"

"You and the Chairman are very much alike. You both have genius-level abilities, but you struggle to get along with others and don’t know how to communicate properly. Despite being incredibly competent, you’re both so clumsy that you end up treating people like tools and saying or doing terrible things. Even though you each respect the other more than anyone, neither of you ever shows it."

As Simon’s words echoed in the distance, Balthazar looked down at the will for the fourth time.

"The Chairman knew everything about your achievements. Even after you left home, he continued to keep tabs on you. I was even sent by him to secretly observe you at the Air Hunt Officer Academy. The Chairman always saw you as his successor. I know that better than anyone. After all, I was never even on his radar. The reason he was so harsh on you as a child was because he was thinking about your future."

Finally, Balthazar understood the contents of the will.

"And today, the Chairman gave you a test. That will is basically your certificate of passing."

Simon smiled warmly.

"Congratulations, brother. How does it feel to have inherited the world?"

For a while, Balthazar stared at the document—then, without warning, he began tearing the will to pieces.

"B-brother!?"

Simon’s eyes widened in shock as he rushed to stop his brother, but Balthazar quickly shredded the letter and threw the pieces into the air.

"What are you doing!?"

The scraps, now too small to be read, fluttered away in the wind.

Balthazar said nothing, stomping repeatedly on the pieces that had fallen to the ground. As Simon moved to stop him, he caught a glimpse of his brother’s face and froze.

"Brother..."

Though his movements were rough, his expression almost looked as though he was crying.

The gentle wind carried the remaining pieces of the will far into the distance.

Balthazar channelled every bit of his raging emotions into stomping the paper fragments into the earth.

A fiery, consuming anger boiled up from the depths of his soul, threatening to swallow him whole.

"It's the worst. Worse than crap. Even less than the maggots infesting the crap."

Every cell in Balthazar's body seemed to be chanting that in unison.

He raised his knee to waist height and stomped on the shredded will, grinding it underfoot. Again and again, until the hateful paper was broken down to the molecular level.

"Damn old man."

He muttered the words and clenched his teeth. Blood dripped from his mouth where he'd bitten the inside, but he didn't care.

"I was just dancing in the palm of your hand, wasn't I?"

He let the anger overwhelm him.

"You made all my efforts meaningless with a single piece of paper."

Leaving home at fourteen, enduring poverty while self-studying, earning a scholarship to enter the Air Hunt Officer Academy. Attending aristocrats' parties morning to night, building connections with influential people. Despite having his proposals ignored over and over again, never giving up and persistently advising those incompetent strategists.

"All of it was to destroy you."

And yet, this damn old man...

Had the audacity to hand over everything he had built with his life—his position, his wealth—to Balthazar.

As if he had known all along that Balthazar would be driven by hatred to keep pushing forward. As if he had foreseen Balthazar climbing, step by painful step, toward the lofty throne Renior presided over.

—He valued me more than anyone.

—He understood me better than anyone.

—And that's why he entrusted everything to me.

Were the tears welling up out of frustration? Or was it something else? He couldn't tell. But shedding them would mean he had lost. There was no greater humiliation than that.

The anger at himself wouldn't subside. He stomped on the paper again and again, smashing it into the grass and soil until it disappeared.

It was clear now who had been the bigger person, between him and his grandfather. Compared to Renior, Balthazar felt like nothing more than a clown.

—How can I ever surpass you?

The answer had already been clear moments ago, when he threw those raw emotions at Renior.

To surpass his grandfather, he had to follow through on the words he had hurled in a fit of rage.

He wiped his eyes with his arm. Twice, three times.

Suppressing the surge of emotion, he looked up at the sky, making sure Simon couldn’t see his tears.

Everything that had been weighing on his heart seemed to dissolve into the clear blue above.

Balthazar gazed up at the sky, letting the wind blow through him, and then forced out the words:

"...I don't need the old man's leftovers. You can have it all."

"Brother..."

"I have something I need to do. I don't have time to be tied down to this shabby house. Someone as ordinary as you is more suited to run this place."

Simon stared at his brother in shock for a moment, then shrugged.

"...The entire Berner conglomerate? It’s got more assets than the national budgets of some great powers. What could be so important that you'd abandon that?"

Balthazar, his expression now softened, swore to the October sky.

"I'll end this war."

There was no other way to surpass Renior.

Bringing the Second Multi-Island Sea War and the war with Urano to an end would be the only proof that he had surpassed his grandfather.

"I’m counting on you."

Renior’s earlier words echoed in the blue sky. Surely, even Renior must have experienced untold suffering and regret, unable to express them to others. Building a company from a small-town moneylender, supporting the livelihoods of hundreds of thousands of employees—he must have faced countless moments when he had to sacrifice his humanity. When Renior called Balthazar’s name and uttered those final words, perhaps his true wish was embedded in them.

—Fine, I'll do it, damn old man.

—But don't die yet. Wait in that lonely bed with your bird.

—I’ll show you the end of this foolish war.

Balthazar finally allowed himself a faint smile. He shoved both hands into his pockets and told Simon to call for their ride.

Simon threw up his hands in a gesture of helplessness and shrugged.

"Even if you say you're giving it to me, well... I'll have to talk it over with Mr. Wyzack. What am I supposed to do with all this...?"

As his brother looked lost, Balthazar suddenly remembered something.

"By the way, what about the jet?"

"Huh?"

"I ordered you to build a jet when I left home. I told you to make one within ten years."

"Oh, that. Yeah, don’t worry, I’ve been working on it."

When Balthazar left home at fourteen, he’d made that demand of Simon as a parting order. It had been eight years since then. It seemed Simon had faithfully pursued the project. Balthazar was impressed.

"You actually did it? I thought you'd forget about it immediately."

Simon smiled sheepishly.

"Of course I forgot right away. But the Chairman was the one who kept it going, the jet engine project. He was convinced when you gave your speech at your birthday party about why jets were necessary. The project has been advancing secretly within Berner Heavy Industries, and they’ve gotten the jet engine to a usable state."

Balthazar couldn't help but grunt in acknowledgment. So Renior had been thinking the same things as him, and had already put those thoughts into action. Just as Simon said, Renior had shared the same vision for the future.

"But they haven’t managed to attach it to a plane yet. There’s still an issue with aerodynamics. When approaching the speed of sound, different parts of the plane reach supersonic and subsonic speeds, making it uncontrollable. It’ll probably take another two or three years to make it flyable as a jet."

"I see... Then transfer full control of the project to me. The only thing I want from Renior is the jet engine."

"You’re not asking for much. I’ll take care of it. But are you sure that’s all you want? I mean, not to be rude, but it’s just an engine you can’t even put on a plane. There’s a lot more valuable stuff you could take."

Simon looked incredulous, but Balthazar laughed it off.

"It’s enough."

He already had a vision in his head for the jet engine. As he gazed up at the autumn sky, dreaming of the future—

"Major Grim!"

An officer in the uniform of the Saint Volte Empire came rushing toward them from behind the trees, clearly in a state of panic.

"...?"

The officer saluted, catching his breath, and informed Balthazar that he was a captain in the communications unit stationed on Crossnodal Island.

"There’s an urgent message from Air Hunt Island’s Operations Command. You are to return to Operations Command immediately. A high-speed reconnaissance plane has been prepared for you. Please proceed to Crossnodal Fourth Airfield at once!"

"An urgent message...?"

Balthazar frowned. He couldn’t imagine what kind of situation would require him to be summoned to headquarters by name.

"What is this about?"

When Balthazar asked, the captain of the communications unit stiffened his expression and stood tall.

“This morning, in the Kingdom of Keiken, an imperial decree of abdication was issued, and Daitoku Shinnou has ascended the throne as Yoshihito, the 112th Emperor of the Kingdom of Keiken!”

Balthazar nodded, understanding. There had been rumours about the Emperor’s declining health, and it seemed he had finally abdicated.

"Along with this, through diplomatic channels, the Kingdom has reached out to arrange a meeting with the Saint Volte side as quickly as possible."

A small breath escaped Balthazar. The fact that they were initiating negotiations was good news. If the southern riverfront conflict, the Achilles' heel of the Empire, could be resolved through diplomacy, nothing would be better. But why had an urgent message been sent directly to him?

"The Kingdom has specifically named the person they want as the Imperial plenipotentiary. They will not negotiate with anyone else. Please wait, I will read the full message from the Kingdom…"

The captain took out the telegram from his briefcase. Balthazar's heart began to beat heavily, sensing something.

Could it be?

"Appoint Major Balthazar Grim as the Imperial plenipotentiary and dispatch him to the Kariba Bridge, Tsurugawa, on the southern front. The negotiations will only proceed if Major Grim is present. Two days will be granted for his arrival. End of message. Sent by Special Plenipotentiary of the Kingdom of Keiken, Kagura Murasaki."

Hearing the name, like a sharp invisible stake, it pierced through Balthazar's heart.

"...Kagura...!"

He couldn’t fathom how she had managed it, but it seemed Kagura had risen to a position of power in this foreign land, high enough to be granted authority rivalling that of a head of state.

"...Understood. I’ll leave immediately. Simon, do whatever you want with everything here. I'm busy."

Simon shrugged his shoulders.

"Important work?"

"Yeah. I’m off to save the world."

Balthazar responded to his brother’s exasperated tone as he hurried into the waiting car, heading straight for the airfield. With the high-speed reconnaissance plane, he should be able to return to Air Hunt Island within four hours. Reviewing the latest intel on the Kingdom of Eiken in the backseat, his thoughts were consumed by Kagura.

‘We’ll meet again. We absolutely will. But only when we’ve both grown stronger.’

That was about two years ago. Those words, spoken after a kiss before they parted on the floating fortress Odin, echoed repeatedly in his mind.

‘When you’ve become someone strong enough to change the world with your own power, we’ll meet again.’

As he made his way to the airfield, the memory of Kagura’s warm smile seemed to blanket the clear skies over Crossnodal Island.

Part 17 (Part 8 of Volume 8)

"We must discern the true intent behind the Kingdom’s decision to appoint this specific envoy," Lieutenant General Victor Kahn stated as he gazed at the expressions of the twelve assembled strategists in the operations briefing room, finally settling his eyes on Balthazar.

"Why would it be convenient for the Kingdom that Major Grim serves as the special plenipotentiary? Major Grim, could you explain?"

The stern faces of the assembled staff officers all focused on Balthazar, and even Chief of Staff Rafael nodded slightly. Having just disembarked from a high-speed reconnaissance plane, raced by car from Air Hunt’s first airfield to the Imperial Joint Operations Command on the third floor, Balthazar, showing no signs of fatigue, answered brightly.

"It's likely because the Kingdom's plenipotentiary is a personal friend from my student days. We understand each other well."

Victor raised one eyebrow with a mocking gesture.

"Ah, a friend. One of those “Seven of Eriadore,” I presume?"

"There was a time when we were called that, yes."

"I see. So, you think you can resolve the issues of the southern front through a discussion among old school friends?"

Victor’s tone dripped with malice. Balthazar sighed inwardly. Ever since Victor had been thoroughly defeated by Balthazar in a military exercise, using underhanded tactics no less, he had gone out of his way to obstruct Balthazar’s efforts at every turn.

"If we know each other, negotiations can begin openly without unnecessary probing. That’s the advantage. I see no other intent behind the Kingdom’s request."

Balthazar kept his tone as diplomatic as possible. In truth, he believed Kagura’s intentions were just that. Given the gravity and urgency of the negotiations, Kagura had likely chosen Balthazar for this reason.

But Victor, unsurprisingly, interpreted it differently.

"There are currently 1.7 million infantry holding the southern front. You understand that the southern front is the gateway to the Akitsu continent, secured through immense sacrifice, don’t you?"

"Of course."

"And you suggest that a man in his twenties can decide the fate of that blood-soaked land through a casual chat with his old schoolmates?"

Victor emphasized "a man in his twenties" and "old schoolmates" in a particularly disdainful manner. Balthazar sighed again in his heart.

Here it was again. The logic that a young man, regardless of the opportunity to end the war, should sit back and watch from the sidelines.

Taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, Balthazar fixed his icy blue eyes on Victor.

"I’ll admit this responsibility may be too great for me. But they’ve made it clear that they won’t negotiate with anyone else. Someone has to break the ice. We don’t even know what their demands are—whether it’s a surrender request or an offer of ceasefire. Finding out their demands is something even a young man like me can manage."

Victor’s eyes glinted with further malice.

"They demand you be granted full authority. Your decisions will determine the fate of the entire southern front. Isn’t that too heavy a burden for you?"

"We’ll devise a plan. We can predict their demands and establish responses accordingly. Right now, we should focus all our efforts on breaking the deadlock on the southern front."

Balthazar made his case firmly while keeping a careful eye on the strategists. The room’s atmosphere clearly favoured Victor. Rising too fast only bred enemies. No matter how correct Balthazar’s points were, they wouldn’t accept them. This was how it always went.

"Can we really trust you?" Victor pressed. "You’ll be the only strategist present at the negotiation. If, heaven forbid, you were to change sides, it would be catastrophic."

Balthazar was nearly amused by how baseless the accusation was.

"I’ve sworn my loyalty to the Empire. That’s why I’m sitting in this chair."

"But to entrust such a critical negotiation to one so young... Don’t you lack the experience necessary? This could be the negotiation that determines the next thousand years of the Empire’s fate. No matter how determined you are, isn’t this responsibility far too much for someone with so little to show for it?"

Victor spoke as though offering sage advice, glancing at the other officers. The older staff officers, wearing thoughtful expressions, nodded in agreement. They all wore expressions of rationality, but inwardly, they likely shared Victor’s sentiment.

They simply didn’t like the idea of a young upstart stepping in at such a crucial moment. No matter how logical his argument, the outcome would be the same. It had always been this way. Despite foreseeing enemy strategies multiple times, Balthazar’s plans had always been rejected by the operations headquarters. Each time, they dismissed him with the same reasoning: "Stay out of it, youngster."

──They’re idiots. It’s pointless trying to reason with them.

Balthazar’s sense of resignation whispered within him.

──You’ll just have to wait another twenty years until they all retire.

For the sake of his career, he should step back, put on a diplomatic face, and not challenge them. If he didn’t overstep his bounds, there would be no unnecessary friction, and his rise would continue smoothly.

──That was what he would have done.

Balthazar raised his head, surveying his own thoughts.

──But I’m no longer that man.

The man standing here now was no longer the same Balthazar who hid his true feelings to please foolish staff officers, obediently nodding at their idiocy. After settling his final score with Renior, he no longer cared how these fools viewed him.

──I’m no longer interested in climbing the ranks.

──I’ve given up my dream of taking the Empire.

──From now on, I’ll do as I see fit.

Suddenly, Balthazar turned to Victor and laughed from the depths of his soul.

──Wait for me, Kagura.

──I’m coming to you.

A chilling, pure smile born of his true self radiated toward Victor.

"Let’s end this."

"...!?"

There was a clear change in Balthazar’s tone. The sudden intensity startled Victor.

"During Operation Judeka. And during the breakthrough at the Kukuana Line. I foresaw the enemy’s movements both times, yet the operations headquarters ignored me. The result was devastating losses. And now, you’re about to repeat the same mistake."

The room froze. Balthazar had directly confronted the truth that all the staff officers had known but turned away from.

"Speaking like this to senior officers…"

One staff officer began to shout, but Balthazar silenced him with just a glance and a raised hand.

"When this is over, feel free to demote me. But before that, allow me to make one final proposal."

Turning to General Raphael, Balthazar stated,

"Grant me full authority as requested by the Kingdom. If you do, I promise I will ensure the complete, bloodless withdrawal of all 1.7 million troops stranded on the Akitsu continent."

It was a bold statement. Of course, it was partly a bluff. But the only way to sway the room was to stand tall and make grand promises.

Raphael, the only one in the room listening seriously, asked calmly,

"Their intentions are still unclear. What makes you believe you can ensure a full retreat?"

Balthazar, with an unusually bright expression, spread his arms wide.

"The fact that Kagura Murasaki requested me proves they want a ceasefire."

"And your proof?"

Balthazar smiled. It was the most natural smile he had ever felt on his face.

"Because we made a promise."

The memory of that vow resurfaced clearly.

"No matter what sides we find ourselves on, we will not hate each other."

Words spoken long ago by Kagura, pledging their bond.

"Friendship is eternal."

Words that once felt naive now stood as his solemn oath to their absent friends.

"Kagura and I, along with our comrades, made that vow. Time has passed, and fate has divided us into enemies, but we do not hate each other. We still trust one another, and we still call out each other’s names. Kagura called for me because she believes in that vow."

Isn’t that right, Kagura?

"I trust that Kagura still honours that vow. General Raphael, please, entrust the lives of 1.7 million soldiers to this bond. I will deliver. I will achieve the impossible and bring them all back safely."

Together, you and I can do this.

"I’ll show you how we can save the Empire."

Let’s end this foolish war, together.

"I’ve already forgotten how my previous proposals were ignored. But just this once, please, listen to me. I will deliver a miracle."

Balthazar’s words, brimming with conviction, hung in the now-silent room. All that remained was to wait for General Raphael’s decision. For Balthazar, those few minutes felt like an eternity.

And then, the decision was made.

“An emergency decree. No matter how much opposition you raise here, it cannot be overturned.”

Kagura’s sharp words pierced the air in the command tent, directed at the riled-up officers. She scanned her surroundings carefully, ready to draw her sword at any moment, while maintaining a calming tone.

“The Emperor has entrusted me with full authority over these negotiations. I understand your anger, but this is a decree. I ask that you comply.”

She spoke quietly to the assembled officers.

A young officer, bearing the insignia of a lieutenant, turned bright red with anger and shouted.

“Granting full authority to a mere girl who suddenly appears? What kind of decree is this?!”

He was so furious that he seemed ready to draw his pistol on Kagura at any moment. Kagura understood his feelings, but she also knew that if they missed this opportunity, the chance for peace might never come again.

October 21, 1351 of the Imperial Calendar, Southern Front, Supreme Command of the Henan Army, Kingdom of Keiken

Kagura gestured toward the deputy commander of the Shinmei Unit standing beside her. The deputy respectfully produced a folded case, lined in dark purple fabric and adorned with golden lacquer. Inside was the decree issued by the newly enthroned Emperor Yoshihito just the day before. The officers stared in silence.

"The Emperor of Keiken appoints Kagura Murasaki, Acting General, as Special Envoy with full authority to negotiate a ceasefire with the St Vault Empire. Emergency Decree No. 1, Year 2011 of the Imperial Calendar."

The decree bore the imperial seal, along with the signature of Prime Minister Takatora Kuonji. Yet, the young officer was undeterred.

“Impossible! I won’t be deceived by a fake decree!”

The dozen or so senior officers in the tent stood frozen, caught between advancing or retreating. Several younger officers, incensed, began to press forward toward Kagura.

“I’ve heard rumours about a battle at Kyonagi Palace! Wasn’t that your doing?! How suspicious it is that an enthronement ceremony happens suddenly, followed by this ceasefire decree the very next day!”

“Where is Prime Minister Kuonji?! Did you force him to sign this cowardly order?!”

Their anger was entirely justified. In truth, Kagura had orchestrated the entire plan. But now, she had no choice but to push through, no matter the cost.

──I will atone for my sins with my life once this is over.

Kagura stood tall, her gaze locking with the furious young officers.

“If you intend to defy His Majesty’s will, the Shinmei Unit cannot stand idly by.”

“What?! You little girl—!”

As the young officer reached for his pistol, a blade was suddenly pressed against his forehead.

“Stand down. This is an imperial decree.”

Kagura’s cold words echoed through the tent. The officer froze, unable to move with the sharp blade so close to his skin. Kagura’s voice carried a deadly authority.

“To defy the Emperor’s command is unforgivable. I respect your service and bravery, but any further insult to His Majesty will not be tolerated by the Shinmei Unit or the Imperial Guard.”

The tense silence that followed was heavy, almost tangible.

“The enthronement has already occurred. If you refuse to obey the Emperor’s command, then we will have no choice but to consider you rebels and deal with you as such. Is that your intent?”

Kagura’s words were laced with lethal intent. The seven members of the Shinmei Unit standing behind her radiated the same menacing aura. These were warriors prepared to stain the tent with blood if necessary. The officers gritted their teeth but ultimately shook their heads in silence.

Kagura sheathed her sword, glaring at the gathered officers one last time.

“Tomorrow morning, I will meet with the Imperial Envoy at Tsurugawa River, at Kariba Bridge. The Henan Army will follow the Emperor’s orders. That is all.”

After receiving confirmation from the commander of the Henan Army, Kagura turned and exited the tent.

The plains, in the middle of the night, were a ballroom for the autumn stars.

Sparks from the campfires swirled into the sky, joining the shimmering stars. The cool night breeze caressed Kagura’s heated cheeks.

Here on these vast plains, the Imperial Army and the Keiken Army, nearly three million soldiers in total, remained entrenched in their fortifications, facing each other without movement. The war, which had begun the previous October, had dragged on for a year, resulting in tens of thousands of casualties without either side gaining ground. With the looming presence of Uranos behind them, they could not afford to take their eyes off the enemy in front of them. They knew that the moment they turned away, annihilation would be inevitable.

In silence, Kagura limped as she walked. Two days ago, her right leg had been cut by Yukihira, and while she could stand if she forced herself, walking was still a challenge.

As she returned to the Shinmei Unit’s camp, the deputy commander greeted her with a soft smile.

“For now, we’ve managed to get through this.”

Kagura tilted her head slightly, uncertain.

“They’re still suspicious. They even knew about the Kyonagi Palace incident. We don’t have much time; we need to hurry.”

“We’re close. Soon, this war will be over. The fallen soldiers will be avenged. Just a bit more effort, and we’ll make it through.”

Encouraged by the deputy, Kagura returned a smile.

“…Yes. Just a little more. Just one more step…”

She murmured to herself, as if to convince herself. Kagura vowed to the souls of all the fallen soldiers, those who perished at Oyodo, Momiyama, and during the battle at Kyonagi Palace, that she would bring an end to the Second Multi-Island Sea War.

Kagura then returned to her tent, lit the lantern, took a sip from her canteen, and finally let out a long breath.

The raid on Kyonagi Palace had taken place just two days ago.

At the same time that Kagura’s First Unit seized the imperial seal, a separate force successfully captured three key members of the Supreme War Council: Prime Minister and Minister of War Kuonji, Chief of Staff Minamimasa Sho, and Foreign Minister Bakuro Kuro. They were now being held at the Shinmei Unit’s headquarters.

Meanwhile, in the capital city of “Misato,” the Keiken Guard Division had seized key government offices, the central command headquarters, and media outlets by force, securing total control of information. Without the public, the Henan Army, or even regional military commands realizing that a coup had occurred, the front pages of newspapers announced the Emperor’s abdication and the ascension of Yoshihito to the throne. That same day, the coronation ceremony took place in Miyo, and the first emergency decree was issued. Kagura Murasaki was appointed Special Envoy with full authority to negotiate the ceasefire, and she had now arrived in Henan.

The past three days had been a whirlwind, with Kagura barely sleeping as she moved from Kyonagi to Misato and finally to Henan. Despite the fatigue, she felt no weariness. The weight of the mission she carried prevented her from succumbing to exhaustion.

Kagura lay down on her sleeping bag. Tomorrow morning, she would enter the battlefield, stepping into the no man’s land between two warring armies to meet with the Imperial Envoy in the open.

──Baltha, will you make it?

Staring at the ceiling of her tent, she called out in her mind. She had named Balthazar as the envoy because of the delicate nature of the negotiations—just one wrong word could lead to disaster. After coming this far, she could not afford to stumble at the final moment.

Kagura closed her eyes. She knew she should sleep while she could, but her mind remained too sharp, and sleep wouldn’t come.

──Soon, my life will end.

──The time I have left feels so precious.

Once the ceasefire was secured and the Imperial Army withdrew from the Akitsu continent, Kagura would release the three captured officials, take full responsibility for the coup, and surrender herself. Only then would the full truth of the coup be revealed, and Kagura would be executed. Whether the abdication and the ascension of the new emperor would remain valid would be debated afterward, but Kagura had to trust that her comrades would manage the information well. In any case, by that time, she would no longer be alive.

──I must go to my brother.

She remembered the sight of Yukihira lying in a pool of his own blood, spreading beneath his feet. She had fled with the imperial seal without offering a hand to help, or even a proper farewell. Her actions had been beyond human; they were less than that of a beast.

"I will never forgive you."

Yukihira's final words echoed in her mind once again. Countless times since that moment, she had heard her brother’s voice haunting her in quiet moments.

──You may blame me all you want when I join you.

──Please wait just a little longer, brother.

She whispered her apology once more before closing her eyes.

Yukihira’s face floated briefly in the darkness, only to fade away.

In its place, Balthazar’s smug face appeared.

A warmth spread through Kagura’s chest.

──How are you, Baltha? Are you doing things in your usual way?

──I’ve become so stained. I’m no longer human, I’ve sunk below the level of a beast.

Though she had named Balthazar as the negotiator, she knew it was unlikely he’d actually be entrusted with the full authority to handle an entire front. The probability was much higher that someone else, someone higher up, would be sent in his place. She was aware of that. But still…

──I want to see you, Baltha.

Though the odds were slim, she could imagine Balthazar somehow outwitting the high-ranking officers around him, appearing at the negotiation site like a deus ex machina from a stage play, with that same smug expression. Perhaps he’d see her and make a disgusted face before hurling some sarcastic remark her way.

Just imagining it made Kagura laugh. Even in this situation, she was filled with happiness.

──If you and I can meet again, this war will end.

──Baltha, don’t you think so too?

In the darkness, Kagura entrusted her faint hope to the future, spending the precious moments she had left in this life calling the name of the person she cherished most.

The edge of the sky began to take on a deep purplish-blue hue. The still surface of the river mirrored the sky, making the entire world seem like nothing but shades of purple, with the white clouds flowing overhead deepening the colours even further.

A wind blew in from the west. The surface of the water, which had been like a smooth, dark blue sheet, began to ripple with whitecaps, disturbed by the growing wind. What had been a deep blue plain was soon covered in waves, and at the very moment the sun rose, golden reflections scattered into the sky.

Kagura lay on the slope of the embankment, cautiously peeking over its edge.

Through the morning mist, tinged with gold, she could see the embankment on the other side.

The Tsurugawa River was about 200 meters wide. The Imperial Army and the Royal Army of Keiken had entrenched themselves on either side of the river, using the embankments as shields. Though Kagura could see nothing from her vantage point, there was surely an entire Imperial battalion on the other side, with artillery pointed directly at them.

Next to Kagura, the interpreter lay flat on the slope, gripping a microphone. At Kagura's nod, he carefully raised a loudspeaker above the embankment and called out in the language of St Vault.

"The negotiation delegation is crossing Kariba Bridge! Do not shoot! We will not shoot at your delegation either! Do not shoot!"

The amplified sound waves echoed across the river. From the other side, what sounded like curses were hurled back in response from the St Vault soldiers. In turn, the Royal Army of Keiken shouted their own insults. The exchange of slurs continued for about two minutes, until a halting reply in the language of the Akitsu Federation came from across the river.

"We are sending our delegation as well! We will not shoot you, you will not shoot us!"

The soldiers of the Royal Army burst into laughter at the strange Akitsu accent, but Kagura knew the Imperial soldiers were probably laughing just as much on their side. She nodded at the interpreter and descended from the embankment.

Receiving the military flag, Kagura greeted the remaining four members of the negotiation delegation. Among them were a secretary, a public relations officer, the acting commander of the front, and the deputy commander of the Shinmei Unit. Some of them might have to stay behind as hostages during the negotiations.

The deputy commander was holding a light machine gun. Kagura shook her head and cautioned him.

"You don't need that."

"But just in case—"

"This is a negotiation for peace. We don’t need to provoke them. Please, let's go with dignity."

The deputy commander bit his lip before handing the machine gun to a subordinate, lifting his head with newfound resolve. Kagura looked around at the others and gave a brief command.

"We leave our lives here. To end this conflict, we shall act as if we are already dead. Any objections?"

The acting commander, a lieutenant colonel, stiffened but shook his head.

"No need to remind us. It is an honour to stand on this stage. Everyone here feels the same."

The secretary, public relations officer, and interpreter, though meeting Kagura for the first time, wore expressions that showed they understood the gravity of the day’s negotiations for the future of the Kingdom of Keiken.

"We will record every word of the negotiations and, if we make it back alive, report everything accurately to the country. Leave it to us."

"I am ready to serve as a hostage. Let’s go. To hesitate now would bring shame to the kingdom."

Kagura thanked them and then lifted her gaze.

"Let's go. This is the Kingdom of Keiken's turning point. For the sake of seventy-five million citizens, we will secure peace."

The group responded with affirmation, and with Kagura leading the way, they boldly ascended the embankment. Yesterday, they would have faced a barrage of bullets the moment they showed themselves, but today, not a single shot was fired.

Without showing any fear, Kagura led the five delegates behind her, dragging her immobile right leg as they made their way toward Kariba Bridge, the only stone bridge left intact after the retreat of the Royal Army. The bridge had been left standing due to the incompetence of the engineers. Now, concrete barricades had been erected at both ends, and both armies stared each other down across the bridge, with guns trained on each other.

If negotiations were to take place here, both armies would be able to witness them directly, and any results could be immediately communicated to both sides. That’s why Kagura had chosen this bridge as today’s stage.

At the foot of the bridge, machine guns were pointed through gaps in the barricades, ready to turn any enemy crossing the bridge into a pincushion. On the other side, similar barricades had been built, with gun barrels glinting in the morning light.

The Imperial Army remained motionless. Although the morning mist obscured much, Kagura’s group had surely been seen crossing the embankment. Yet, it was eerily silent. Determined to be the first to make a move, Kagura placed her left foot on the barricade. Grimacing from the pain in her right leg, she took three steps to reach the top, boldly standing up with her flag held high and her entire body exposed to the enemy.

Then, in the language of St Vault, she announced herself.

"I am Kagura Murasaki, Special Envoy of the Kingdom of Keiken! I have come to negotiate with the Imperial Army! I will now proceed to the middle of the bridge! Send your envoy!"

Her clear, dignified voice carried across the river. Yet, there was no movement from the Imperial side. Kagura turned to her companions and spoke.

"I will go first, alone. That way, they won’t be as cautious."

"I should go ahead. It’s too dangerous for you to go alone."

The deputy commander leaned forward, but Kagura stopped him with a smile.

"Don't be so dull. I set the stage; at least let me enjoy it a little."

With that light-hearted quip, the deputy commander frowned and fell silent. Kagura left them with a smile, stepping down from the top of the barricade onto the bridge.

She walked with her chest held high, staring toward the opposite bank. There was still no movement. But as she squinted through the mist, she could make out the enemy soldiers peeking over the top of their embankment, watching her. Like she had been earlier, they were lying flat, observing intently. There was no room for fear.

──Alright, let’s go.

She urged herself forward, carrying the military flag on her shoulder, doing her best to mask the limp in her injured right leg. She knew that tens of thousands of soldiers on both sides were watching her cross the bridge, ready to shoot at any moment, yet she felt strangely calm. She walked to the centre of the bridge and stopped.

She looked across to the other side.

The morning mist, rising from the river’s surface, drifted over the bridge.

In the distance, the clouds that had gathered at the horizon began to break apart, scattering the rays of the newly risen sun. Beams of light shot through the morning mist, piercing through the air and passing around Kagura.

The morning sun gave birth to mist over the river. The light refracted off the mist like grains of golden sand tossed by the hand of a god.

Standing there, bathed in golden particles, Kagura turned her serene expression toward the opposite side of the bridge. The golden mist shimmered as it enveloped everything—both embankments, the bridge, the enemy’s concrete barricades, all of it.

Despite the tens of thousands of troops arrayed nearby, with weapons of mass destruction aimed at each other, for this moment alone, it felt as if they had wandered into a fairy tale.

Then──.

Through the veil of gold, Kagura saw a figure. A lone figure, carrying a military flag on their shoulder, walked across the bridge in silence.

Kagura strained her eyes through the mist. The glinting reflections distorted her view.

Tall. Carrying a flag.

That was her first impression.

The wind picked up, blowing from upstream.

The golden mist was swept away, revealing the other side of the bridge clearly.

──Yes, you always make the impossible possible.

She smiled.

──My deus ex machina.

Balthazar Grim stood bathed in the morning light, the flag of St Vault fluttering behind him.

His expression was as irritated as ever, as if he were on the verge of shouting, "Why did I have to be summoned to such a place?" With the flag slung over his shoulder, he walked toward Kagura, exuding an air of annoyance, seemingly oblivious to the fairy tale-like scene around them.

In truth, she wanted to run to him.

To throw away the flag, leap into his arms, hug him tightly, rub her cheek against his, wrap her arms around his back, and stroke his soft golden hair while exchanging playful banter. She wanted to tease him, to watch him get angry, and laugh joyfully.

But she held back.

She couldn’t allow herself to shed tears either.

All she allowed was a smile.

Just as she had smiled when they parted two years ago at the flying fortress Odin, she wanted to give him a natural, heartfelt smile, full of affection.

As Balthazar marched through the golden mist and stopped in front of her, his expression unchanged, his words were as quintessentially "him" as ever.

"What's so funny?"

His familiar grumpy tone.

Kagura couldn't help it; she tilted her head back and laughed out loud.

"Hahaha!"

Balthazar's face twisted even more into an irritated scowl.

"What is it, you fool? What's so amusing? I came here despite being busy because you called, so you'd better be grateful."

His predictability was so spot-on that Kagura found it increasingly amusing. Even though the eyes of both armies were on them, she couldn’t stop laughing.

"Haha, Baltha, it's been a while! You haven't changed at all. Haha!"

It had been so long since she had laughed like this. Even though she didn’t fully understand it herself, standing before Balthazar made her feel as relaxed as if she were back in the officer’s lounge at Air Hunt Academy, despite the fact that they were standing at a pivotal moment for the fate of the kingdom.

"Stop laughing, you idiot. The whole army is watching. Take this seriously."

Balthazar lowered his voice in an attempt to chastise her. Kagura finally managed to wipe the tears from her eyes, calming her laughter.

"Sorry, sorry, I’ll be serious now."

"As you should. You haven’t changed at all—you’re as stupid as ever."

Kagura gazed at him playfully, sticking out her tongue.

"Sorry. Forgive me? Please?"

She spoke in the same tone they used to chat in back at the officer's lounge. Balthazar snorted and looked away, still annoyed.

"I came all this way, so hurry up and tell me what this is about. It had better be important."

He said it as casually as if he were asking to borrow notes from yesterday’s lecture.

Kagura scratched the back of her head and then, with a smirk, made her request.

"Well, actually, it’s about offering a ceasefire."

"Oh? I suppose we could do that. Not that we’re out of options yet."

"Of course, we can still fight, too. But don’t you think it’s time to stop?"

"Sure, if you’re going to beg for it, we might as well."

"The way you say that really rubs me the wrong way."

"You’re the one asking for it. Don’t be picky."

"But honestly, you’re in a tight spot, too, aren’t you?"

"We’re not struggling."

"Liar. You got driven off the mainland."

"Not a lie. We did get pushed back, but we’re planning to retake it soon."

"Still, wouldn’t a ceasefire be better?"

"I told you, we could consider it."

"It’s how you say it that’s the problem."

"How should I say it?"

Kagura thought for a moment, then flashed a mischievous grin.

"Say it like you’re speaking to your lover."

"……………………"

"Or else, no ceasefire."

Kagura clasped her hands behind her back and kicked at a small stone, acting as if she were sulking.

"You really are an idiot."

"Really?"

"A colossal one."

"Maybe so." But… She lifted her pouty face.

"When I’m in front of you, I just want to be spoiled. I can’t help it."

When she expressed her honest feelings, a hint of red crept into Balthazar’s cheeks.

"We’re talking about the fate of nations here. I don’t understand your request."

"I just want to hear it, once."

Tilting her head sweetly, she made her request again. Balthazar sighed deeply, then, with a look of resignation, glanced upward. He let out another deep sigh before finally, awkwardly, looking back at her, his face flushed red as he clumsily spoke.

"Sh-shall we, uh, call a ceasefire?"

Kagura burst out laughing again.

"Hahaha! Hahaha! Hahaha!"

"What’s so funny!?"

"I just didn’t expect you to actually say it."

"You were the one who kept insisting! I was just… trying to… make you happy…"

His face beet red, Balthazar mumbled excuses as if lava were spilling from his embarrassment.

Kagura tried to stop laughing but found it impossible. Being around Balthazar made her want to tease him endlessly. Realizing she had gone too far, she quickly apologized.

"Sorry, sorry, I won’t tease you anymore. Thank you. I really appreciate it."

She wiped away her tears and smiled warmly.

"Okay, okay, let’s do the ceasefire. There’s a bit of a mess on our side, so we need you to pull out within four days. Think that’s doable?"

"…I’ll make it work. We’ve already brought the Second Isla Fleet’s transports to the nearby waters. We should be able to ferry everyone to the neighbouring islands if we use them for continuous transport."

"Efficient as always. Things are chaotic on our end, too, so I can only guarantee safety for four days. After that, I can’t make any promises."

"Understood. We’ll make arrangements."

"You’re reliable, Baltha. Now we need to sign the agreement to make it official, so I’ll call the others."

"Right. I’ll call my people, too."

Their unofficial discussion quickly came to a close. Needing to sign the prepared ceasefire agreement, Kagura turned toward her side’s barricade and waved her hand to signal the others. Five of her comrades quickly climbed over the concrete blocks and rushed to her side. The Imperial side did the same, with officers in military uniforms and officials in suits following Balthazar’s signal.

"The Special Envoys have agreed to a ceasefire. The Imperial Army will begin its withdrawal, and the Royal Army will not interfere. Is that acceptable?"

Both acting commanders of the armies affirmed the agreement, and Kagura and Balthazar, as the special envoys, signed the ceasefire documents. Officials from both sides recorded the event, and a photograph was taken of Kagura and Balthazar shaking hands.

"Thank you, Baltha. Really, thank you."

As they posed for the photo, Kagura whispered her gratitude. Balthazar, still wearing his usual grumpy expression, nodded once.

"This is nothing. Hardly worth thanking me for."

Balthazar’s typically blunt words filled Kagura’s heart with a warmth she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Kagura thought to herself, deeply moved, I really do love him.

And then it struck her—this was their farewell.

She imagined, even if only fleetingly, how wonderful it would be to embrace him, leap over the rail, and jump into the river, escaping together into the sea. But she knew it was just a fantasy.

Before long, both sides' envoys had completed the necessary formalities, exchanged salutes, and returned to their respective camps.

Only Kagura and Balthazar remained, standing in the middle of the bridge.

She wanted to linger, but she couldn’t let him realize that this would be their final goodbye in this life.

She had decided—her farewell would be with her brightest smile.

“We’ll see each other again,” Kagura said, looking up at Balthazar, telling him a lie. In truth, four days from now, once the withdrawal was complete, she was destined to turn herself in and be executed by firing squad. But there was no need to tell him that. She just wanted to leave a smile in the corner of his memory.

“Is Cecil doing well? Kiyoaki and Illia are in the Kingdom of Sylvania too, right? When you get back, please send them my regards. Tell them I’m doing fine.”

Balthazar gave an awkward nod and then looked down at her.

“...You pushed yourself too hard to come here, didn’t you?”

His eyes flicked briefly to her injured right leg, and he seemed to sense that something was amiss. As expected of him, she might not be able to hide it, but Kagura kept smiling.

“And you didn’t do the same? We’re both guilty of that.”

“With my abilities, this was hardly an effort. But for you… things must have been different.”

Balthazar's icy blue eyes reflected his concern for her. Kagura felt a tightness in her chest. But she couldn’t let him see the truth.

“Oh? Are you worried about me, Baltha?”

She teased him with a mischievous smile, poking his chest with her elbow.

“You’ve grown quite soft, haven’t you? Have you finally learned how to be kind to others?”

“...Don’t joke around, you fool. I’m not being kind. I just figured it must’ve taken a lot of effort for someone like you to get here.”

“Thank you for your concern. But now that I’m here, it’s been worth it. And I owe that to you, Baltha. I really do appreciate it.”

“...”

“Well then, shall we go? The others are waiting, and if we linger here too long, people might start getting suspicious.”

Not wanting him to see through her facade, Kagura ended the conversation abruptly. Satisfied that she had maintained her cheerful demeanour, she waved at Balthazar with a smile and turned away.

She took two steps toward her comrades when his voice stopped her.

“Hey.”

Kagura froze. His tone was the most serious it had been all day.

She couldn’t bring herself to turn around. She wasn’t confident she could keep her smile.

“What is it?” she responded, still facing away from him.

The words of the one she cherished were short and simple.

“Don’t die.”

She couldn’t reply.

“We’ll meet again. All seven of us.”

You’re so clueless, aren’t you? she thought. Why would you say something like that now?

You’re going to make me cry.

“Yeah,” she managed to say, but her voice trembled. She still couldn’t face him.

"Never bow your head in front of me again. Keep it held high," he had once told her.

That memory echoed in her mind—his words from two years ago when they were in the Odin fortress.

That’s right. Hold your head high.

Don’t cry, you fool. Smile.

She stifled her tears and looked up at the sky.

With a smile, she sent it up into the brilliant blue above.

Then, spinning on her heel, she turned to face Balthazar.

The man she adored stood there, enveloped in the golden light, gazing at her with a serious expression.

At that moment, she was certain—he knew everything.

But I will lie to you. Because I want you to remember me with only my smile.

“We’ll meet again. All seven of us.”

Goodbye, my first love.

“Even if we can’t meet, we’ll always be together.”

I’ll never forget you. Not ever.

“...”

Balthazar said nothing, only gazing silently at Kagura’s smile.

Then she turned away once more and, without warning, ran toward her camp. She ran awkwardly, limping on her injured right leg, as if fleeing.

Balthazar stood still, watching her disappear into the mist.

Go after her. Kagura plans to die.

His heart screamed at him.

She ran away to avoid showing her tears.

Chase her, catch her, hold her, and bring her back to our camp.

But Balthazar remained rooted in place, as if he were pinned down. Whether it was the threat of enemy machine guns still trained on him, the presence of thousands of soldiers watching, or an understanding of Kagura’s intentions, he couldn’t say.

Kagura’s smile lingered in his mind, a fleeting image, before vanishing into the mist like a dream.

Balthazar couldn’t move. His heart was screaming, sensing something, urging him to follow his instincts and chase her, grab her slender body, and leap over the railing into the river, escaping together to somewhere far away.

But as he hesitated, Kagura disappeared behind the concrete blocks. The morning mist completely obscured his vision.

The words she had left behind echoed in the wind.

"We’ll meet again. All seven of us."

"Even if we can’t meet, we’ll always be together."

Though those words were meant to offer hope, they burned painfully into Balthazar’s soul, searing him deeply.

“Kagura…”

There was no answer, only the sound of the wind scattering the morning mist.

Part 18 (Part 9 of Volume 8)

Breathing heavily, the Supreme Commander of Urano, Demistri’s, ascended the stairs of the Ulysses Palace's harem. His emotions, heightened, echoed in his heavy footsteps as he made his way to the grand hall on the fifth floor, located at the southern end of the palace.

“We’ve been expecting you,” came the voice of Renjaku, the second-ranked S-class operative of Patriotis, stepping forward from the oppressive darkness that clung to the rear of the hall.

“Where is it?” Demistri demanded, his bloodshot eyes scanning the surroundings for his target.

“Just as you wished—within ‘the house.’”

Nodding in satisfaction, Demistri tossed a handful of gold coins at Renjaku’s feet.

“Well done. A reward.”

“I am honoured,” Renjaku replied, glancing at the coins briefly before stepping aside. Demistri strode into the darkness.

The only illumination came from a dozen or so candles placed on the floor. Velvet curtains hung from the ceiling, filling the air with the scent of decaying incense and the rich feel of carpets from the surface world. Scattered bedding lay about, and several concubines lounged seductively, half-draped, giving Demistri playful, practiced looks.

Without hesitation, Demistri brushed the women aside as if they were mere annoyances, pushing them away indifferently as he made his way to the large cage at the far end of the hall—so massive that a tiger could fit inside.

In the thick shadows of the hall, the flickering candlelight faintly illuminated a woman within the cage.

Noticing Demistri, the woman immediately stood, pressing her back against the bars.

Demistri’s breath quickened unknowingly.

He exhaled slowly, stepping closer to the cage and examining the woman.

The prize he had sought after for so long stared back at him with fierce, determined eyes.

“You managed to evade capture for over a month,” Demistri said, addressing her.

“All the nobles of the Mycenaean faction have been detained, and their estates thoroughly searched. Those fools, this is what happens when they defy me.”

It had been thirty-five days since the coup, and Demistri had finally found her hiding place. Now, at last, she was here.

“How are you feeling, Nina Viento?” Demistri smiled as he grasped the iron bars, addressing the woman within.

Nina Viento, no longer wearing her grand priestess robes but dressed in a simple white blouse and navy skirt, stared back at Demistri, her expression defiant. She had removed her extensions, revealing her true self, but her grape-coloured eyes still held a powerful will. However, with her hands shackled behind her back, she had no freedom of movement.

A dangerous gleam shone in Demistri’s eyes as he admired her helpless form from head to toe before speaking with satisfaction.

“Beg for forgiveness. Do that, and I’ll let you out of this cage.”

Nina’s voice remained unshaken as she responded with pride.

“What have you done with my companions?”

“If you swear loyalty to me, I’ll tell you.”

“Answer me. Where are my companions?”

Demistri laughed darkly before sneering at her from the other side of the cage.

“Your allies are nowhere. They’re all gone.”

“…”

“But I am merciful. I’ll make you my wife, Nina Viento.”

“...!!”

Nina pressed her back further against the iron bars, her expression hardening.

Demistri undid the lock on the door and stepped inside the cage.

“...Don’t come any closer! If you do, I’ll bite my tongue!”

Her words, filled with dignity, did nothing to stop Demistri’s wicked grin as he stepped forward.

“I said, don’t come any closer!”

Her voice grew harsher, but Demistri halted his step, then spoke in a soothing, almost mocking tone, as if calming a frightened animal.

“No one is coming to save you. It would be easier for you to give in now.”

Nina’s eyes, usually serene, now burned with an intensity that pierced through Demistri. Her courage was unwavering.

“They will come. They will.”

Her pride, her dignity, and her unwavering belief radiated like a halo around her.

“The Second Isla Fleet will come. They will reach this place.”

Despite being captured and held deep in enemy territory, Nina had not lost hope.

Demistri clenched his teeth, the sound of his grinding molars filling the air as he stretched his claw-like fingers toward her.

In that moment, he noticed that Nina had shut her mouth, preparing to bite down hard on her tongue.

She was serious. She was truly willing to choose death over dishonour.

Demistri glared at her with fury before lowering his hands and exhaling deeply. He turned and stepped out of the cage.

“...Fine. We have plenty of time.”

With his back still to her, he muttered to himself.

“I look forward to seeing how long you can hold out.”

Turning back to Nina, he spat out a final taunt.

“Like everyone else here, you’ll eventually submit to me. Even if your man comes for you, by then, your body and soul will already belong to me.”

His dark desires gleamed in his eyes as he picked up a nearby toy and began playing with it in front of her, as if to provoke her further.

Nina—no, Nina—turned her face away from the disgusting display, closing her eyes and curling up in the corner of the cage.

She wanted to hold her knees to her chest, but with her hands bound behind her, she couldn’t. The fear she had hidden deep within her core seeped into her every cell. Nina buried her face against her knees, trying to push the fear back down.

She couldn’t let Demistri know her legs were trembling. If she showed weakness, he would exploit it. She had to remain strong. She had to believe her comrades would come to rescue her.

──Igna. Ulshyrra. Mio. Reiner.

──Are you all safe? Where are you?

──You’re alive, right? You managed to escape… right?

With no power left to call the wind, no way to break free from her restraints, Nina could hear strange animal-like noises from the surrounding darkness—sounds she had never heard before. The overwhelming, cloying scent in the air made her feel nauseous, like something rotten and sweet was suffocating her mind. The longer she stayed in this place, the more she feared her spirit would be twisted by it.

“...I won’t lose…”

Whispering to herself for comfort, Nina buried her face deeper into her bent knees.

“...I’ll keep fighting. I won’t lose, Kal…”

She quietly spoke the name of the one she loved, making sure no one could hear.

“There really are incredible pilots all over the world, aren’t there...”

As Kiyoaki watched the foreign aircraft dancing in the December sky, he couldn't help but share his thoughts with those beside him. It was natural to feel that way, but seeing such manoeuvres, on a completely different level from what he was used to, made him feel a little shaken.

“... The two in particular stand out. The rest are inferior to the Valkyrie.”

Next to Kiyoaki, Illia, also observing the distant sky, murmured his own impression.

“You have a good eye.”

Beside them, Kal-el smiled and turned to the two of them.

“Those two are monsters.”

With that remark, both Kiyoaki and Illia nodded. Indeed, there were two monsters flying freely in the skies above Santos Island.

December 15, Imperial Year 1351, Kingdom of Sylvania’s capital, Sierra Greed on Santos Island.

From a mountainside halfway up the headquarters of the Kingdom's military operations, Kiyoaki, Illia, and Kal-el watched the mock air battle unfolding offshore. From this altitude of 1,200 meters, they had a clear view of the Second Isla Fleet's task force deployed off the coast of Sierra Greed.

Since the Second Battle of Sierra Greed six months ago, the Second Air Squadron of the Isla Fleet had been undergoing repairs in the former capital of the Hydrabard Union, Isrion, due to a shortage of port facilities. Three days ago, they finally completed repairs and made their way to Santos Island. Now, in what seemed like a show of strength, they were engaging in a 12-on-12 mock air battle with the First Air Squadron of the Isla Fleet, and the newly arrived Second Air Squadron was dominating. In fact, it was almost entirely thanks to the "monsters" that were single-handedly taking down the First Squadron.

Kiyoaki narrowed his eyes, focusing on the two aircraft.

“Those planes aren’t Maestras, are they? I’ve never seen those models before...”

In response to Kiyoaki’s question, Kal-el nodded.

“There’s a civilization zone called the Levamme Sector in this world. Those two are reinforcements from there. The main Levamme fleet hasn’t arrived yet, so only the vanguard is here, and while it’s a small unit, it’s filled with elite crew members. Those two are especially the best of the best.”

As Kal-el explained, the outcome of the mock air battle had already been decided. The two "monsters" from the Levamme Sector had taken down all 12 enemy planes in an overwhelming display.

“The blue one is an Ailes V. The black one is a modified Shinden. Levamme's Chancellor refused to allow any technological changes for nearly 20 years, but even so, these planes are still more than capable of fighting.”

Kiyoaki and Illia nodded. They understood that differences in technology could arise depending on the region, and even from a distance, it was clear that these planes were combat-ready.

“Oh, looks like they’re coming over. Probably to greet the Valkyrie commander.”

Kal-el shielded his eyes with his hand as he peered into the distance and muttered. It seemed those two knew that Valkyrie Commander Kiyoaki and Vice-Commander Illia were watching.

The two "monsters" flew straight towards the mountain where the headquarters was located.

“Let me introduce you. The one flying the Ailes V is my mentor.”

Kal-el waved with a smile, signalling to the two approaching planes.

Both pilots seemed to recognize Kal-el, as they waved their wings in acknowledgment.

Kiyoaki squinted his eyes again.

The blue-gray aircraft at the front slowly performed a gentle roll, as if greeting them, before roaring past at the same altitude as Kiyoaki with a thunderous engine, climbing higher and higher into the December sky.

On the nose of the plane, Kiyoaki spotted a nose art of a white bird.

“Sea Cat. My mentor, Charles Kari.”

Kal-el introduced briefly. Kiyoaki etched that name into his memory. It was the plane that had been dazzling them with its overwhelming aerial manoeuvres from the start.

Following closely behind, the jet-black aircraft performed the same gentle roll as Sea Cat, and then with a loud hum from its tail propeller, soared even higher into the sky. On its nose was a playful nose art of a beagle.

“Demon Dog. Yoshio Takeo.”

Kiyoaki committed that name to memory as well. The terrifying skills of these two "monsters" were unmistakably conveyed through their mastery of the air.

“... Do you think we could beat them if we teamed up?”

Kiyoaki asked Illia, gazing at Sea Cat and Demon Dog as they frolicked in the high sky.

“... Right now, we can’t win.”

Illia’s answer came as Kiyoaki nodded in agreement. Indeed, at this moment, they couldn’t win.

But.

“... I’d like to train with them. Of course, with you too, Kal-el.”

In response to Kiyoaki’s request, Kal-el smiled broadly and turned back to him.

“That’s why I brought them here. I’m sure we can all learn a lot from each other. I’m still learning from Sea Cat myself. Takeo’s also a terrifying genius. Until the day of the decisive battle, we’ll train together through mock air battles. The more we practice, the more we’ll absorb from each other and get stronger.”

Kiyoaki and Illia nodded simultaneously.

──We can still get stronger.

──We’ll get stronger, and then, we’ll crush Uranos.

As Kiyoaki strengthened his resolve, he felt an intense urge to jump into his fighter plane and spar with Sea Cat, Demon Dog, and Kal-el. By competing with top-tier pilots, he knew they could reach even greater heights.

“Oh dear, did the mock air battle already end?”

At that moment, the door to the semi-underground entrance opened, and Queen Elisabeth, having finished her meeting, peeked out from the headquarters. Kiyoaki turned to ask her.

“Unfortunately, yes, it just ended. So, was there anything of value?”

Elisabeth shook her head regretfully.

“...Nothing. As expected, we can’t interfere in the affairs of other nations…”

Illia furrowed her brows in concern.

“...Hasn’t Kagura been imprisoned for over a month now?”

“...Yes. We are making efforts, but all we can do is believe in a pardon.”

It was Kagura and Balthazar who had undoubtedly brought the Second Archipelago War to an end. They could only believe that someone who had fulfilled such a great mission wouldn’t be executed so easily.

A wind blew up from the base of the mountain, swirling clouds as it raced across the mountainside, passing over everyone and disappearing back into the sky.

── Even if we can’t meet again, we’ll always be together.

Kiyoaki suddenly felt as if he had heard Kagura’s words in that wind. It was what Kagura had supposedly told Balthazar during their farewell after the signing of the ceasefire agreement. A bad feeling came over him, and he shook his head to clear it away.

“We’ll meet again. We definitely will… Yeah, we have to believe in Kagura.”

As Kiyoaki encouraged everyone, Kal-el smiled as if to change the atmosphere and thanked Elisabeth.

“Your Majesty, regarding the matter of the Balesteros bonds, I can't thank you enough. It’s incredible news for the Isla fleet.”

“Don’t thank me. The credit goes entirely to General Grim over there.”

Elisabeth smiled as she gestured behind her. Balthazar emerged into view, wearing his usual stern expression.

“...It was my grandfather’s doing. I didn’t do anything.”

He responded dismissively, as if the matter didn’t interest him.

Last month, the Balesteros bonds, which had been offered on the Sierra Greed stock market, became so popular that lines of investors stretched 200 meters outside the banks handling them. With an application ratio of over thirty times the amount available, preparations for a second issue of bonds were already underway.

The catalyst had been the entry of Renior Berner into the Balesteros bond market. The world’s leading financier wouldn’t have gotten involved unless the rumour about the 50 billion pesos on the sunken ship was true. The moment this speculation spread, star players in the financial world flocked to the Sierra Greed stock market, and the Balesteros bonds suddenly became a hot commodity. As a result, the Isla fleet quickly gained a fortune of 100 million pesos in hard currency from the first round of applications alone. This was more than enough to pay the salaries of their 400,000 crew members, replenish their fuel and munitions, and replace their consumables.

“With this, we can fight the Uranos fleet. General Grim didn’t just end the Second Archipelago War, but also saved the Isla fleet. I’m beyond grateful. We must invite you to the Republic of Balesteros and give you the reception you deserve.”

Kal-el’s straightforward words made Balthazar’s expression twist further in discomfort, and he changed the subject.

“With the signing of the peace treaty with the Kingdom of Keiken, the 1.7 million troops who withdrew from the Henan Front are being reorganized for the counter-landing on the Mitterland mainland. When the time comes, we’ll need the support of the Isla fleet. To destroy Uranos, we look forward to working together.”

“Yes. The final battle with Uranos is approaching. It will determine the fate of the world.”

Kal-el said this as he looked up at the sky.

Kiyoaki also thought about the looming day of the decisive battle.

The preparations for the counterattack were progressing steadily. However, the difference in strength between them and Uranos was still vast. According to calculations, Uranos had twice as many warships as their side. In addition, reports were coming in that fleets and air fortresses deployed to other sectors were converging on the archipelago. If that were true, the odds of victory would become even slimmer. No matter how skilled their pilots were, modern warfare was decided by resources. At this point, they still didn’t have the strength to defeat Uranos head-on.

“But we can't win by facing them head-on. The only way for a smaller force to defeat a larger one is through surprise attacks. But right now, we don’t have enough information to move.”

Balthazar seemed to be thinking along the same lines as Kiyoaki and said this to Kal-el.

“We need to focus all our efforts on gathering intelligence, but Uranos' counterintelligence division is highly capable. We haven’t been able to obtain any significant information, and if we’re not careful, we might end up acting on false information, which could lead to disaster. We need more time to gather critical information that will allow us to strike at their weaknesses.”

“How much time do we need?”

“...At least six months.”

“...Six months.”

“In other words, we shouldn’t act yet… but?”

The words trailed off.

Kiyoaki and Balthazar simultaneously looked up at the sky.

Against the midday sun, a pair of white wings appeared.

Feathers fluttered down like angel wings, enveloping everyone.

Suddenly, a white bird dove straight towards them──

And landed gently on Kiyoaki’s shoulder, as if returning home.

It was a filthy bird. Its feathers were frayed, and it looked like it had been attacked by hawks or crows. Blood stained its chest and wings. It couldn’t stay on Kiyoaki’s shoulder for long, and soon its talons slipped from the fabric, causing its body to slump forward.

Kiyoaki’s hair stood on end.

“Fio!!”

He shouted the bird’s name as he hurriedly caught its body with both hands. Fio, as if relieved, closed its eyes and folded its wings in Kiyoaki’s palms.

“That bird... it’s Mio’s...”

Illia noticed and leaned in to look. Kiyoaki’s eyes widened as he gently stroked Fio’s limp body with his fingers. The bird didn’t move.

“Fio...?”

Kiyoaki knelt down and gently laid Fio’s body on the ground. The bird took a slow breath once, then twice, before closing its eyes. It didn’t move again. Staring at its dirtied and wounded body, Kiyoaki noticed something strange.

“Ah...”

Something was tied to Fio’s leg with a piece of string. Carefully, Kiyoaki untied the string and brought the item into view, finally realizing what Fio had delivered.

“...A ring...?”

It was a rusted, faded silver ring.

Kiyoaki knew exactly whose ring this was.

Unforgettable memories came rushing back to his mind.

A midsummer day on Odessa, Messus Island.

A girl, laughing in the bright white sunlight, wearing a tiara of canola flowers.

‘We promised to get married!’

‘I’m going to be Kiyoaki’s bride!!’

The girl’s smile was bursting with happiness.

‘Next, I’ll give Kiyoaki a silver ring! Then the ceremony will be complete, and our love will last forever!’

Distant words seemed to transcend time, now conveyed through the ring before his eyes.

── Mio.

A dazzling smile blurred beyond the ring.

“There’s writing on the string!”

Beside Kiyoaki, Elisabeth exclaimed in surprise as she opened the string, hastily showing the contents to Balthazar.

“This… this is…?!”

Balthazar couldn’t hide his shock either. It was a detailed map: the orbital route of the capital Pleiades, current position, speed, and layout of surface facilities—precisely the critical information they had desperately sought, all written in fine detail using advanced techniques on the small string!

“…Pleiades is over Krista!!”

Balthazar shouted the name of the industrial city in the centre of the Mitterland continent.

But the murmurs of the group didn’t reach Kiyoaki’s ears.

He knelt on the ground, gently stroking the bloodstained body of Fio.

Fio had already grown cold. To deliver this message to Kiyoaki, the bird had flown far beyond its limits.

“Fio, thank you.”

Kiyoaki cradled Fio’s body in both hands, gently lifting it and pressing it to his forehead.

“Thank you, Fio. Thank you. Thank you.”

Fio’s feelings resonated through its lifeless body, and tears flowed down Kiyoaki’s cheeks. Fio had come this far, risking everything, to help Mio. Crossing great waterfalls and evading predators, it had flown here even beyond the point of death.

What an incredible bird. What a remarkable friend. With his forehead pressed against Fio’s cold body, Kiyoaki made a promise.

“I’ll answer you. I’ll honour your feelings and your bravery. I’ll definitely respond.”

He expressed his gratitude again and again to the small, lifeless creature, tears streaming down his face as he gently laid it on the ground. He wished he could bury Fio in the canola field on Odessa, Messus Island.

Then, wiping his tears, he slipped the silver ring onto his finger.

The harsh words Mio had thrown at him during their farewell were now gone. The faded, rusty little ring conveyed her true feelings to him.

── Mio is calling me.

Every cell in his body surged with energy.

── I have to go. To Pleiades.

His soul ignited.

His eyes glowed with resolve.

They pierced the sky.

Kiyoaki bit his lip hard, stood up on his knees, and turned his fiery gaze toward the skies over Krista on the Mitterland continent.

Mio was there.

She was waiting for him.

All he had done was hurt and sadden her. Her tearful face had been burned into his memory forever. He didn’t want their relationship to end in regret.

With a gaze as if trying to burn the sky with his eyes alone, Kiyoaki glared at the world.

The future he desired could only be forged by his own hands.

No matter how much despair stood in his way, he would break through it.

At that moment, from behind the mountains, twelve new wings rushed through the winter sky, overtaking Kiyoaki and the others as they turned toward Sierra Greed’s offshore.

The Valkyries. Kiyoaki’s squadron, the strongest wings in the archipelago.

Unable to remain silent after witnessing the aerial manoeuvres of the Sea Cat and the Demon Dog, the Valkyries soared through the sky, determined to catch up to them.

Suppressing the raging fire within his soul, Kiyoaki directed his burning gaze at the sky and commanded the world’s strongest wings.

"Let’s go, Valkyries."

Even if it means destroying this world.

"I’m coming, Mio."

To the sky where you are.

"I will destroy Uranos."

I will fulfill the vow I made.

“Get up.”

Hearing the voice of a military policeman, Kagura lifted her head.

In the windowless room, the glaring light of an old electric lamp aimed at her was blinding.

Squinting, she stood up. She was led out of the cell and into the corridor, where the military policeman passed a rope through her handcuffs, guiding her as they began to walk. Kagura already knew where they were headed. Without resisting, she followed quietly.

Since there were no windows, she didn’t know how much time had passed. It had probably been over a month since she had signed the ceasefire agreement with Balthazar at Kariba Bridge.

Five days after leaving Kariba Bridge, she had watched as all 1.7 million St Vault soldiers withdrew unharmed. Afterward, she had turned herself in to the military police headquarters in Misato, confessing that she was the mastermind behind the coup, and was imprisoned here. She knew nothing of what had happened since.

She wondered if His Majesty, Emperor Yoshihito, was still on the throne.

As they walked down the dim corridor, Kagura asked the question aloud to the military policeman ahead of her.

Without turning, the policeman answered.

“The Emperor has already passed away. Prime Minister Kuonji hid the truth. The whole country is in turmoil. Thanks to your attack on Kyonagi Palace, the real traitors have all been rounded up.”

Kagura was shocked. So what Lord Kuzuha had said was true?

“Then… the abdication?”

“It’s been recognized as legitimate. Emperor Yoshihito’s abdication has been validated, and a peace treaty with St Vault is being negotiated. The Second Archipelago War is over.”

Ah… Kagura let out a sigh of relief.

That was good. The war was over. Crown Prince Daitoku had fulfilled her wish…

“…It’s ironic. Thanks to you, the war is over. The people should be thanking you, really.”

The military policeman spoke without turning. Kagura understood what he meant.

“It’s fine. The crime I committed deserves death.”

“…………”

“What about my comrades?”

“Thirteen were discharged. The others were found not guilty, as they were merely following your orders. You’re the only one bearing responsibility.”

“I see. That’s good. I have no regrets.”

Kagura meant it. The military policeman seemed to have something to say but swallowed his words, continuing to walk in silence. The sound of their shoes echoed through the cold, lifeless corridor.

At the end of the hall, the military policeman opened a door.

Morning light flooded in, causing Kagura to squint against its brightness.

The policeman waited until her eyes adjusted. Soon, Kagura finally raised her face to the sunlight.

“Wow… it’s beautiful.”

The world she hadn’t seen in a long time was filled with light.

Even though it was an execution ground, it seemed like the most beautiful sight she had ever witnessed. For the first time, she truly felt the brilliance the world contained. She had never realized just how beautiful the blue sky could be.

There were no witnesses present. It was just an open space, about forty meters long and seven meters wide. In front of Kagura was a sturdy stake driven into the ground. About thirty meters away stood a single soldier, holding a rifle.

“Do you want a blindfold?”

The policeman asked. Kagura shook her head.

“I’d like to keep my eyes on the sky.”

“…Understood.”

The policeman took the rope and moved to tie her to the stake.

Standing in front of the stake, Kagura shook her head again.

“I don’t need the rope. I won’t run.”

The policeman exchanged glances with the executioner. After the executioner nodded, the policeman turned back to Kagura.

“Then we’ll leave you as you are. Do you have any final words?”

Kagura smiled softly.

“Tell the Seven of Eriadore that I’m sorry I couldn’t meet them again.”

“…Understood. I’ll pass on the message.”

The kind-looking military policeman said and stepped aside.

With a calm expression, Kagura looked at the distant executioner.

She couldn’t see his face due to the distance, but for some reason, she felt as though he resembled Yukihira.

The barrel of the gun was raised, aimed directly at Kagura’s heart. In just a few seconds, her life would end.

── Brother. I’m coming to you now.

Kagura lifted her face to the blue sky. When she arrived in the afterlife, she knew her brother would challenge her to duels again, and she would be cut down by him many times.

The sky above was as pure and spotless as Kagura’s current feelings, singing of eternity.

Faces of the Seven of Eriadore appeared one by one in the sky.

Kiyoaki. Illia. Cecil, Reiner, Mio.

And then Balthazar.

── I’m sorry for lying to you, Balthazar.

Kagura apologized.

── I love you.

She cast her true feelings into the sky, and at that moment, the sound of a gunshot rang out.

She saw her own blood scatter into the clear blue sky.

Crimson droplets exploded from her chest, painting her vision red.

As she slowly fell backward, Kagura reached her hand toward the sky.

Beyond the blood that danced in the air, she saw the eternal blue and the smiling faces of her comrades──

And then, everything faded into darkness.

“Kyonagi Palace Assault Incident: Former Captain Kagura Murasaki Executed

The Misato General Headquarters announced early yesterday that former Shinmei Unit Captain Kagura Murasaki (22) was executed by firing squad. As previously reported, Kagura was convicted last month of leading her unit in the unauthorized assault on Koyanagi Palace and government residences, capturing three members of the Supreme War Council, stealing the imperial seal, murdering Imperial Guards, and forging the abdication decree. In accordance with the emperor’s orders, there were no witnesses, and no funeral was held. Her remains were interred in an unmarked grave at Shukokai Temple after her relatives refused to accept them.”

(Excerpt from the Akitsu Daily, December 15, Imperial Year 2011)

END VOLUME 8

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