Galleria — officially known as the Principality of Galleria.
Among the surrounding lords, the Grand Ducal House of Galleria held the greatest power and served as the one pulling all the other surrounding lords together.
The Principality of Galleria alone possessed more territory than Rolfis had before. But the truly impressive thing was that the surrounding lords recognized the Grand Duke of Galleria as their authority.
When we departed Baim, passed through Rolfis, and then crossed into Galleria, I could tell the atmosphere was different right away.
This was a nation built on the backs of its nobility, a country where the lords wielded enormous power.
Perched atop Porter's ceiling, I watched as the escort protecting our conspicuous group — specially prepared wagons and a large Porter — hovered over a transport party that had come to a halt, struggling with the tedious inter-territory travel.
"…What a pain."
The one who responded to my muttering was the Third Generation.
*'Can't be helped, right? But once they know it's cargo from the Grand Ducal House of Galleria, they'll let us through for a cheap fee, so just bear with it. Besides, we pass through by handing over Magic Stones and materials we picked up along the way as payment, so the burden isn't that heavy.'*
The Valkyries deployed to protect the group wore robes and made sure to display their weapons prominently.
When Monsters attacked, they responded immediately and annihilated them. Then they carried out dissection and collected the Magic Stones and materials.
*'The lords being powerful is the same in Banseim too, but here it's extreme. The country itself is an awkward size, so even a baron family would be plenty significant… If you were a baron family here, the income would probably be pretty good. You'd likely have a decent amount of say, too.'*
The Third Generation sounded envious, but even so, from my perspective there were plenty of problems. Since the lords managed their own territories, some roads were well-maintained while others weren't.
Every time we passed through a town, we were hit with transit taxes.
We were charged transit taxes simply for using the roads.
…I could only think of it as an exceedingly inconvenient country.
After passing through numerous territories, even as we approached the borders of the Grand Ducal House of Galleria's own domain, merchants were still haggling with nobles.
"At this scale, the tax comes to this much—"
"No, but you see, this is cargo from the Grand Ducal House—"
"Settlement in kind fluctuates in value, so pay in gold—"
What I could hear was a negotiation over how much they could extract, and how cheaply they could settle things. The merchants used Magic Stones and materials they'd acquired along the way to pass through at a lower cost than expected.
However, thinking about the return trip was an extremely headache-inducing problem. If they took this route back, they'd be charged again.
What's more, they couldn't travel from Galleria to Rusworth.
The merchants were planning to sell their goods at a premium to account for the transit taxes, but for the Grand Ducal House, it was likely just a nuisance.
The Fourth Generation was grumbling away.
"All this money for this level of road maintenance? And there are checkpoints set up in all the tricky spots, too. They slap on transit fees because 'this area gets a lot of foot traffic,' my foot. If they lowered the fees and invested more in road maintenance, they'd probably earn double. What is this territory's lord even thinking? Is he an idiot?"
Perhaps it was because the Fourth Generation had helped lay the foundation for territorial management among the Successive Heads, but he just couldn't stand Galleria's system of governance.
"Get your act together and manage things properly!"
The Seventh Generation took a negative view of the Fourth Generation's opinion.
"This has nothing to do with us. I can sense that it's inefficient, but this isn't our own territory either, so there's no point in worrying about it too much."
At the very least, Banseim was a nation that coalesced around the king. There were some commonly shared laws.
"Even with the same system, it really is different, isn't it?"
Miranda, who was sitting on the ceiling just like me, responded to my muttering. She must have noticed that I was comparing Banseim and Galleria based on what I'd said.
"It's nothing like a major nation. But the territorial lord's power really is strong, isn't it? Apparently there are no Court Nobility here either. That's just unbelievable to me."
The Grand Ducal House of Galleria apparently had no Court Nobility. The Grand Duke's retainers existed, but they didn't hold the status of Court Nobility, nor did they hold any peerage. They all seemed to be treated as vassals of vassals.
"A gathering of Landed Nobility, then."
I watched the group that had begun to move out and operated my Porter. Behind me, Clara was operating a large Porter.
The soldiers spotted our Porters and stared us down, but we ignored them and passed straight through.
Once we entered the Grand Ducal House's territory, the transit tax and various other charges were not collected—likely because we had been summoned by the Grand Duke's House itself.
When we arrived at the Grand Duke's estate, I thought it was unusual that they didn't have a castle. However, the Grand Duke's city itself functioned as a fortress city.
It was surrounded by walls just like Baim, but the distinguishing feature was that it was smaller in scale and had more military facilities.
Once we entered the city, we headed straight for the Grand Duke's estate.
There was no mistaking that the atmosphere was different from Baim, but it did bear some resemblance to Banseim—perhaps because their governing systems were similar.
When a rare Porter arrived, a crowd gathered around and the children's eyes lit up as they gazed at it.
"There are no horses?"
"Maybe they're inside?"
"You idiot, then where would they put the cargo?"
As we made our way toward the estate listening to the residents' chatter, Eva, who had poked just her head out through the Porter's ceiling, was fidgeting restlessly.
"S-so many people... Ah, I want to sing!"
I pushed Eva, whose eyes were shining with the desire to have someone listen to her singing, back down into the Porter.
"We don't have time for that. There's apparently a war coming soon, so just bear with it."
Eva, who refused to go inside, kept her head pressed down by mine.
"That's always your excuse! You're never not busy! So please. Just a little time is all I'm asking."
Exasperated, I said:
"You're the one who said dealing with the local elves and their organizations and such is a hassle. Just bear with it. Once we're done with Rusworth, I'll make time for you at Rolfis."
In two unstable countries, a war could break out at any moment. I had no desire to linger in such a place.
"Ugh, I know that, but opportunities are so rare..."
Eva grumbled as she climbed back down into the Porter.
A large quantity of cargo wagons and the goods unloaded from the large Porters were lined up in front of the Grand Duke's estate.
The person in charge who came out of the mansion began verifying the cargo together with the merchants.
Most of it consisted of tools used in warfare.
There were even items that made you think, "Why on earth do they need this?" but I chose not to dwell on it.
The spacious mansion was certainly befitting of a Grand Duke's household. Being at the heart of the kingdom, it wouldn't have been strange for there to be a castle, but for practical living purposes this arrangement was far more convenient.
The mansion official in charge of inspecting the cargo was issuing orders to his subordinates to have it transported inside when a woman emerged from the mansion.
The silver-haired woman shook her long, silky hair as she headed our way.
Her violet eyes and pale skin gave off an almost artificial sense of beauty. She wore clothing that leaned toward a knight's attire, giving her the air of a noblewoman in men's dress.
Her bearing was stiff. She was tall and gave the impression of a warrior.
She walked up to me and pointed her thumb at the Porter.
"Sorry to bother you, but who owns this thing? I'd like to have a word."
I removed my hood and greeted her.
"I'm Laiel, serving as escort for the transport convoy. I'm the owner."
Monica was standing nearby in her usual position, and I thought she might say something, but she kept her mouth shut and quietly erased her presence just behind my shoulder.
(Sh-she'd actually be quite capable if she just stayed quiet like that normally.)
The woman scanned me from head to toe, then puffed out her ample chest and placed a hand on her hip.
"A traveler, is it? I'm a little curious, but it can wait for now... I saw your contraption moving. A cargo cart pulled without horses? Baim has developed something like this, has it?"
It seemed what truly interested her was the Porter.
I felt a small swell of pride at having it evaluated.
"It hasn't spread widely enough to be commonplace yet. And you are?"
The people around us — the merchants in particular — were looking at me in a fluster. The mansion staff were also staring at me with dumbfounded expressions.
However, the woman was smiling.
"My apologies. I'm Gracia Galleria. I serve as Acting Grand Duke."
I'd thought her features sounded familiar, but I never would have expected to run into one of the Two Great War Maidens here. Seeing her smile, though, I figured she must have a gentle side...
"If we acquire a large quantity of these, we'd need fewer horses to pull our supply wagons. That means more horses can be raised for war and poured into Rusworth. Could I hear more details about these? If it means seeing that witch of Rusworth's frustrated face, I'll buy them even at a bit of a premium."
Those violet eyes were quite serious. And the fact that she was smiling while talking about launching an invasion meant she was a battle maniac.
From within the Jewel, the Fifth Generation apparently shared the same opinion.
"W-wait a moment? I thought these people were just fighting within a set of predetermined rules? They haven't actually been waging a real war for years, have they? Alette wasn't just exaggerating a little when she told me about this, was she?"
—I was bewildered.
The Seventh Generation was equally taken aback.
"A war on this scale is real? I'm surprised Selva's remnants weren't able to pick them apart while they exhausted themselves."
When I took a step back, the woman took a step forward. As she reached out to grab my shoulder, Monica and Novem, who were nearby, moved in closer.
But then a sharp voice came from behind Gracia.
"Sister! How rude to our guest!"
Gracia turned around with a sigh, looking at the speaker. She seemed slightly irritated.
"This doesn't concern you, Leold. You're interrupting."
Silver hair, drooping eyes, and violet pupils. Apparently, this was Gracia's younger brother. He looked younger than me.
When Gracia headed back inside the mansion, Leold came over and apologized to me.
"I'm terribly sorry. My sister gets tunnel vision whenever war comes up... Ah, but more importantly, thank you for escorting our luggage. I'm Leold — brother of my sister, the Acting Grand Duke."
I introduced myself as well.
"I'm Rael, an adventurer. Well, the escort was a commission, so there's no need to thank me."
Then, Leold gave a bitter smile, his eyes downcast slightly.
"No, it's just that many merchants and adventurers harbor resentment by the time they arrive here."
Seeing Leold's response, the Fourth Generation passed judgment.
"This kid's got a good heart, but he's no good. If he's Acting Grand Duke, doesn't that mean the line goes through males here? And if he can't inherit the position, it's not about being young — it's that people see him as unfit for the role. Besides, apologizing right away is no good either. Look around you."
When I turned my gaze around, I saw the people of the manor glaring with defiant eyes — all because they had witnessed Leold's response.
The Third Generation, surveying the scene around us, commented.
"The older sister is too strong, so everything revolves around her. But that's strange, isn't it? ...This kind of situation usually doesn't end well. When someone's too powerful, there are quite a few cases of assassination, you know. The younger brother would be much easier to manipulate. Somehow, it feels like their unity is weaker than I'd heard."
Seeing the hostility directed at Leold from all around, I couldn't help but sympathize with him. I had drawn a parallel to my own situation.
(Is Leold in the same boat as me?)
Perhaps Leold could sense the gazes around him as well. He flashed me a smile, then turned and headed back into the manor.
"Forgive me. I was in your way, wasn't I? Well then."
Leold gave the impression of a civil official's son, a stark contrast to his sister Gracia, who radiated the bearing of a warrior. The two siblings were complete opposites.
The merchants who had delivered their goods received their payment and departed the manor. We, serving as their escort, would accompany them and spend a couple of nights in the city before returning.
Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that this nation — so heavily tilted toward war — was in a somewhat... no, a decidedly precarious position.
—Meanwhile, at the Galleria Grand Ducal residence, Gracia had summoned Leold to her room.
The manor's inhabitants had grown to look down on Leold, who was scolded at every turn.
He was seen by those around him as a brother unworthy of his exceptionally strong and beautiful sister — unworthy of the title of Grand Duke.
But—
"Leold, don't force yourself to back me up. You don't need to worry about it."
Gracia was treating Leold differently from how she usually behaved toward him in the manor. It was the demeanor of a sister genuinely worried about her brother.
Leold knew that much, too.
"But if the other lords keep squeezing the merchants like that, prices will keep climbing... and our finances are already stretched thin."
At first glance, Galleria appeared to be a realm where the lords rallied under the banner of the Grand Duke.
But that wasn't the case at all.
They were using the Grand Ducal House as a tool while waging war against Rusworth.
"I understand you're worried. But if you keep pushing that opinion too hard, you'll definitely be assassinated. Right now I can brush you off because I haven't been listening to your counsel, so they don't take you seriously... but still."
The lords held immense power, and if the Grand Ducal House issued orders that cut into vital sources of revenue, they would rebel.
And Gracia and Leold's parents had, in truth, died under suspicious circumstances. The exhaustion of years of war and the decline of the nation's strength were impossible to hide. Without putting on a show of prosperity, the surrounding lords wouldn't stay in line—and the Grand Ducal House could no longer afford to cut them loose.
The moment they did, the lords would abandon the Grand Ducal House in turn, and the entire nation would descend into chaos overnight.
Gracia didn't truly want war either. It was simply that the talent she'd been born with wouldn't allow it. As Galleria's War Maiden, those around her demanded that she fight.
Ideally, Gracia would have wanted to place Leold on the throne rather than serve as acting Grand Duke herself.
But Leold was stubborn. He believed that further war was pointless, and in truth the border lords were already coming to him with their pleas.
If they pleaded and then cooperated, that would be one thing—but there was no telling how far the lords would actually go. And the lords without borders of their own earned their supplementary income through wartime pillaging. The moment anyone tried to put a stop to it, they would resist.
"Anyway, I'll serve as proxy until you come of age. But you need to think about a way to live freely, too. If things stay as they are, you'll really end up killed."
What Gracia was saying was: abandon the Grand Ducal seat. But it was the words of an elder sister worried for her brother.
Leold—
"...If I did that, wouldn't you just get forced into marriage? Did you forget what they said at the last meeting, that it would be better for the War Maiden to have more children? They're dead serious about pushing several men on you. That's insane! You don't want to fight either, sis."
Gracia understood her own strength. She also knew that the surrounding lords feared it. But Gracia alone couldn't sustain a war—if the neighboring lords attacked, she would lose.
And several lords had already proposed that Gracia be jointly managed. They hadn't framed it as "joint management," of course, but the substance was monstrous.
They had demanded that Gracia bear children for multiple noble houses. She had rejected every proposal, but the possibility remained that the surrounding lords, terrified of her power, might act on impulse anyway.
That was precisely why war mattered so much to Gracia. She was alive because Eliza Rusworth existed — an opponent she could only fight with someone at her side.
Without Eliza, Gracia would have long since been forced into joint management, bearing children for multiple houses, and once she had served her purpose, she would have been assassinated.
"...Still, I can't run. That's why, even if it's just you—"
"Sis."
Only within this room could the two siblings speak honestly with one another. From the outside, they might have seemed composed, but inside they were falling apart.
And to put it bluntly, Galleria's situation was a dead end.