The day of the meeting between the leaders of Fonkavun and Mynoghra.
Anterize, mayor of Dragontan, stood quietly before the city's entrance gate, gazing at the horizon to welcome the guests, including Takuto Ira, the King of Ruin.
(Ugh, I want to go home... Well, not that I have anywhere else to go. I'd rather die somewhere than go back to El-Nar.)
The mission imposed on Anterize was to welcome the Mynoghra delegation, led by Takuto Ira, and guide them to the city hall, the venue for the meeting.
Though the main negotiations would be handled by Pepe and Tonukapoli, who were fully prepared at the city hall, she had also been requested to attend as mayor, and the immense responsibility weighing on her was immeasurable.
Even this moment was already painful, and the thought of the events about to unfold made her stomach churn.
Normally, she might have bluffed it away with a drink, but of course, such rudeness was impossible now. She had become a pitiful girl, simply praying to the spirits that this day would pass safely and peacefully.
Incidentally, the spirits she ought to pray to had foreseen what was about to happen here and had fled at the first opportunity.
Given that the transfer of Dragontan was essentially decided, the possibility of her wish for a safe and peaceful outcome was virtually nil.
(They won't try to eat me, will they? I've had a few meetings with Mr. Atou and Lord Mortar, so... well, the levels are different, though.)
Anterize wasn't completely without immunity to Mynoghra's residents.
She had interacted several times with key figures like Old Mortar and Atou and believed she understood the character of their nation and its people to some extent.
No, precisely because of that, she held the highest degree of vigilance and tension regarding this visit from Takuto Ira.
The king they spoke of was that immense, something that transcended human imagination...
(This is the crucial moment, Anterize! As mayor, you must conduct yourself without offense! It's fine, once you get through this, Lord Pepe and Lord Tonukapoli will take over. Just a little patience!)
The transfer of Dragontan would almost certainly be realized. Even with Anterize's eyes, Fonkavun currently had so little room to maneuver.
How the people living here would be treated would depend on the negotiations, but judging from the current relationship between the two nations, she predicted it would not be handled poorly.
In the midst of her tension, Anterize suddenly thought.
If Dragontan became a city owned by Mynoghra, then inevitably, she, as mayor, would be rendered obsolete.
She had no intention of returning to El-Nar, the elf nation, at this point, nor was she able to.
What should I do after this?
A flicker of unease and loneliness crossed my mind in that instant.
"A-Ah... ah..."
What broke the chillingly prolonged silence was a strange cry from the watchtower.
I glanced over, and the soldier I had spoken with a few days prior was pointing, blood drained from his face, toward the horizon.
They have come.
Even without further explanation, the reason for the soldier's agitation was immediately clear.
"They are visible over there! Towards the Great Cursed Realm!"
Switching gears from my earlier thoughts, I tightened my focus.
My gaze fixed upon the Great Cursed Realm.
The place where the Mynoghra party should be visible.
...There, just a speck.
At first glance, it was a small cluster.
Of course, it only appeared that way due to the distance; their true scale was still hazy and uncertain.
At the very least, it was likely enough men for a king to lead.
But at this moment, numbers were utterly meaningless.
Staring at the approaching Mynoghra party from before the gates, Anterize and the others did indeed visualize a tremendous surge of dark pressure erupting into the sky from that group.
(Oh, this is hopeless...)
A void so absolute it seemed to silence even her thoughts seized Anterize.
An emotion she had never felt before. No—a terror so immense it could be mistaken for the unknown simply by virtue of its scale.
What Anterize felt was "death."
Coincidentally, it was the sentiment shared by everyone present who had confirmed the king's party.
Amid the chilling tension dominated by fear, the closed gates slowly opened, and from the watchtower, a massive banner was raised as a gesture of welcome.
Preemptively assigning everyone their tasks was precisely why this was a royal procession.
Rather, perhaps the soldiers of Dragontan who took initiative in this situation should be praised for their courage.
While everyone hid their stiff expressions, focusing on a single point, time slowly passed.
Finally, when the group, once as small as a grain of stone, had grown to the size of a fist and their features were discernible,
Anterize’s life-defining moment had arrived.
(Calm down. It can take as long as it needs. Just don't show any disgraceful behavior.)
She took a quiet, deep breath and looked at her counterpart.
The party led by the king of Mynoghra stopped slowly before Anterize.
She had already grasped through their previous interactions that the other side disliked ostentatious exchanges.
Still, this was a matter between nations. The minimal, formal greeting would be expected.
In other words, they were waiting for Fonkavun's response.
Anterize slowly, yet swiftly, confirmed the personnel accompanying the king.
The Mynoghra group was larger than she had imagined.
Not only were there Dark Elves, but there were also several others in unfamiliar attire.
Behind them followed something resembling a massive cargo cart.
The fact that the animals pulling it were not horses but enormous insects emitting strange cries was, perhaps, to be expected from the party led by the King of Ruin.
In any case, this much was still within expectations.
The real question was what kind of people had come.
First to catch the eye was the elder Mortar, former chieftain of a dark elf clan.
He currently held a position akin to chief strategist or chancellor within Mynoghra, making him the person most versed in matters of state.
At the same time, he oversaw the nation's magical organization, and as a mage he devoted day and night to researching dark arts beyond anything they could have imagined.
His old alias from his days in a dark elf assassination guild was the Curse Sage.
Despite the kindly, cheerful demeanor he projected, the danger concealed within was immeasurable.
Next was Gia, head of the military division and one who filled the role of general.
His fierce and merciless nature had been notorious since Anterize's days in her homeland, and it was said that the number of those who had fallen to his hands had long since exceeded the ability to count.
His alias was the Assassin. His skill and loyalty were now devoted solely to the King of Ruin.
The two standing at the king's flanks like attending maids were the Elful sisters.
They were enigmatic girls rumored to be undergoing elite tutoring directly from the king himself as rising pillars of Mynoghra.
He had exchanged letters with them several times during trade negotiations with Mynoghra, but despite the lively tone of their writing, their eyes held a murky darkness that stood in unsettling contrast, giving them an eerie quality.
Last of all was Atou, the king's most trusted confidant.
Unlike the dark elves in both origin and nature, she stood quietly at the king's side.
There was almost nothing to say about her.
She possessed power beyond mortal comprehension, yet she placed absolute trust in the King of Mynoghra, and the king placed equal trust in her—this had been made painfully clear through their past dealings.
At a glance, she appeared to be nothing more than a strikingly beautiful girl, making it nearly impossible to grasp that she was Mynoghra's most formidable asset.
And yet it was an obvious fact that if she showed her true strength, every person from Fonkavun present would be massacred in an instant.
Having heard everything about Fonkavun's capabilities through intelligence gathered from the prior war, Anterize found herself holding her breath at the realization that the beings before her were truly creatures of darkness.
And above all.
Oh, if that was so, then the existence she was sworn to serve as an attendant to... the opponent was...
Anterize forced her trembling body to move, directing her gaze toward that figure.
The King of Ruin. Takuto Ira.
That being was standing there quietly, as casually as a neighbor who had wandered over for a stroll.
(This is... the King of Ruin)
The King's attire was somewhat peculiar.
Despite it not being particularly cold, he wore an ornate, robe-like garment pulled snugly over his head, completely concealing his form as if to hide his very presence.
This made it impossible to read his complexion or mood.
Thinking this, Anterize stared intently, trying not to be rude.
...Deep within the robe, her eyes met a void.
"Hyaaah!"
A sound escaped her lips before she could stop it, and she hurriedly clamped a hand over her mouth.
Cold sweat burst from her body like a waterfall, and her heartbeat pounded with a frantic intensity.
The gaze was indescribable, as if it saw through her very being, scrutinizing her from beyond the bounds of this world's reason.
In an instant, it bound Anterize's heart with terror, threatening to drag her down into the deepest pit of hell.
Just as she felt her heart might stop from the shock, the King's gaze suddenly drifted away from Anterize's eyes.
"Hah... hah..."
She had narrowly escaped death. Anterize panted, convinced of this.
The king's gaze drifted slightly downward from her eyes, holding her in that same lifeless void of a stare. She couldn't understand why Atou was whispering something to him with such a displeased expression, but she vaguely realized that he at least held no ill will toward her. In fact, his attitude was the complete opposite of what she had expected.
Only because she was wise did she comprehend his prior behavior. The King of Calamity had been considerate—considerate enough not to further terrify her by staring. He had heard her scream earlier, but pointed nothing out; furthermore, he himself had looked away, likely to avoid fixing his gaze upon Anterize's chest.
He was wearing his robe, too, perhaps to avoid flaunting himself before the crowd and inciting fear. His actions were not those of a calamity that sought only destruction; at the very least, he possessed the reason to be mindful of an allied nation.
—Anterize was grateful that the state of Mynoghra was, however tenuously, an ally of Fonkavun.
At the same time, from the very bottom of her heart, she raised a silent curse against the fact that Mynoghra was Fonkavun's ally.
(Pepe and Tonukapoli, did you really understand what you were doing when you formed an alliance with this monster!? You can't treat it like an equal partner! Seriously, I don't care what happens to me anymore!!)
Feeling as though her inner turmoil was being seen right through, Anterize couldn't help but mentally hurl insults. There was a fear that he might truly be hearing her thoughts, but more overwhelming was her feeling of explosive absurdity.
Contact with the king had struck her heart with such force. But just as it would be absurd for a colossus to visit an anthill with considerate care, it was fundamentally impossible for a being that was the source of calamity to visit the small dwellings of humans in peace and tranquility.
Her agitation and confusion were, without question, inevitable.
(Calm down, Anterize. The other party is being considerate toward us. It's fine, there's no problem. I haven't made any mistakes yet, have I?)
The fortunate thing was that by this point, a great number of residents had already evacuated the city. Currently, in the city of Dragontan, a mayoral decree had been issued prohibiting anyone from going outside. Under normal circumstances, the citizenry should have been assembled to welcome the visit from an allied nation, but such luxury was nowhere to be found.
This judgment was the correct one.
Anterize was well aware this course of action bordered on impolite, yet she proceeded nonetheless.
If her own premonition and the information brought by Tonukapoli were accurate, the citizens of Dragontan would likely be unable to endure the direct gaze of the king.
Of course, this had been communicated to the other party beforehand.
While she had prepared another, more elaborate explanation, the reply from their side had been one of cheerful understanding.
Though this could have been judged an unpleasant measure, contrary to expectations, old Mortar—the practical manager who had sent the communication—even sent words of consideration for Anterize's situation.
If one were to accept only that thoughtfulness and accommodation at face value, it would make a fine tale showcasing the deep friendship between Fonkavun and Mynoghra. However, that meticulous concern now clung deep within her chest as a foul, unsettling feeling.
(Staying silent any longer isn't an option. The soldiers—have they calmed down a little, I wonder?)
The events had transpired in less than a single minute.
In that brief span, Anterize had tasted a lifetime's worth of fear, anxiety, and confusion. She drew a deep, steadying bow—the most perfect she had ever made.
"To the great leader of Mynoghra, King Takuto Ira. And to all esteemed guests from Mynoghra—welcome to the city of Dragontan. I am Anterize Antique, entrusted with the position of City Governor of this Dragontan. My entire city wholeheartedly welcomes your visit."
The gentle smile was a social art learned at various crossroads of her life.
Since becoming City Governor, the hectic demands of the role had given her almost no opportunity to use it, but it seemed her skill hadn't rusted.
Now came the real challenge, the exchange from which she absolutely must not falter.
"—Mm, thank you."
Ah, so this was the voice of ruin's temptation.
Within Anterize's chest, claws of madness named fear churned her thoughts.
The meeting about to unfold would surely be several times more filled with confusion and chaos than she could imagine.
Like an entity with no heart, a void itself.
What would the King of Ruin, Takuto Ira, seek from this meeting, and what would he offer in exchange?
A visceral discomfort mingled with fear and a different sort of unease wound through Anterize's heart.
Her wish was that the meeting might end without anyone having to shed tears.
As her small, unplaceable hope drifted without aim, the bilateral talks between the two nations began.