Rusworth Kingdom.
Though bearing the name of a kingdom, like Rolfis it lacked a king. The difference, if any, was that it wasn't a case of a regency or a vacancy—rather, a queen ruled in her own right.
A king had existed until now, but for this generation alone, the throne belonged to a queen.
The route took us back from Galleria to Rolfis, then into Rusworth, which was quite troublesome.
However, once the initial passage tax was paid, there were no local lords to levy further taxes since they didn't exist here.
The only fees came upon entry and exit, and they were substantial.
We descended from the ceiling of Porter's vehicle and arranged to stay overnight in the village where we arrived.
The highways were largely standardized, lacking the distinct local character seen in Galleria. In truth, Rusworth functioned with just the king, and the nobility held only court rank as their status.
Stewards were dispatched to various regions, which likely contributed to the sense of uniformity.
That said, the atmosphere of the village we arrived in was rather subdued.
The first village we passed through had been quite poor. They lived in what seemed like considerable hardship.
Yet, as we approached the heart of Rusworth, the villages and towns appeared to grow more vibrant.
The village where we stayed overnight had a lukewarm ambiance.
The merchants paid a certain amount of gratitude to the steward who granted us permission to stay, and he returned to his manor in high spirits.
Villagers gathered around such a steward.
"Steward, surely something can be done? Many of this village's young men were wounded in the previous war. It's impossible for us to send even ten soldiers."
When a man who seemed to be the village head spoke thus, the steward looked at him with disinterest.
"And? Rules are rules. If you don't like it, pay the gold to buy an exemption."
A steward was merely a temporary administrator for the land he managed, after all.
He ignored the pleas of his subjects and returned to the manor.
Clara, having parked the large Porter at the designated spot, came over to where I was.
"Lael, please move the Porter as well."
"Hm? Oh, sure."
"What's wrong?"
Clara tilted her head, so I recounted the exchange between the steward and the village head from earlier. Upon hearing it, Clara said:
"Rusworth is a nation managed by the Rusworth royal family, after all. At its best, you could call it a single unified body, but perhaps the management isn't as thorough as it should be."
Rusworth dispatched stewards to every region and had the royal family oversee it all. Thanks to that, you could say there was a certain unity to it.
Still, from what I could see on the ground, even that unity seemed to have its problems.
From within the Jewel, the Seventh Generation spoke.
"...It seems the issue lies in whether that steward simply isn't diligent, or whether that's actually the norm here."
The Fourth Generation, observing the inner workings of Rusworth, added:
"Rather, am I imagining things, or do areas closer to the center seem increasingly prosperous? The atmosphere here feels... off somehow."
Since the method of governance differed, the problems that arose would naturally differ as well. Still, the atmosphere was also distinct from Banseim.
"So the circumstances change when the country does. Well, I already knew that, but..."
Clara agreed with my observation. She held her staff, and as the surroundings had grown dark, she conjured a magical light.
"Well, there is a difference between understanding something from books and experiencing it firsthand. It does seem like they have unified standards across the whole nation, so traveling through here has been smoother than through Galleria."
Indeed, when it came to traveling, Rusworth's conditions were far superior.
As I looked around, the villagers—whose mood I still couldn't quite read—were gazing at the Porter with curiosity.
It was then that the Third Generation made a proposal to me.
"Lael, why don't we gather some information here? Let's have little Eva put on a bit of a performance for us. It seems the deputy is still nearby."
I agreed that sounded like a good idea, so I called for Eva.
"...The renowned prime minister?"
Nighttime. Inside the tent, I was going over the information Eva had brought back.
Novem and Aria were in the tent, listening to Eva's report. Aria, however, looked half-asleep.
Eva began recounting the information she had gathered from the villagers, puffing out her chest with pride.
"That's right! Apparently, the prime minister was appointed over ten years ago. Before that, the king had been making all sorts of political decisions on his own."
Hearing this, the Fifth Generation spoke from the Jewel.
"No, isn't that how it's supposed to work? Even with a prime minister, it's still the person above them who has the final say... Have they been given a certain degree of authority?"
Novem listened to Eva's account and said:
"The information we obtained in Baim before was mostly about the Two Great War Maidens. We weren't able to look into the relationships of the people around them."
I felt a twinge of frustration.
"If I'd known earlier that there would be an escort for the transport convoy, I would have asked Rauno. Right now, he's investigating what lies beyond Redant Fortress."
Aria, apparently not wanting the conversation to drift off-topic, pressed Eva to continue. She was sitting in her chair, her eyes growing visibly drowsy.
"More importantly, what happened with this renowned prime minister?"
Eva glanced at the sleepy Aria and let out a sigh.
"Right, so apparently the renowned prime minister now supports the political side of things, while the Queen of Rusworth serves as the pillar of the military. Galleria has that lady Gracia holding things together, but Rusworth is supported by those two."
The renowned prime minister.
There had to be some reason for that title. Still, the Fourth Generation alone seemed to have a subtle reaction to the mention of it.
"...The renowned prime manager, hm."
Mireia asked about the Fourth Generation's doubts.
"Is something bothering you?"
The Fourth Generation didn't state it plainly, but she seemed to believe the situation in both kingdoms was not favorable.
"That girl Gracia, and the one who could fight her—was that Elza? The queen of Rusworth might prove reliable on the battlefield. But when you look at the internal affairs of the country, it's hard to feel at ease."
The military strength was an unknown quantity, but the Fourth Generation seemed bothered by something nonetheless.
(Both their military and politics seem well-established, though.)
I couldn't help but suspect that Rusworth harbored some hidden problems as well.
After that, we made it to the heart of Rusworth without much difficulty.
Like Galleria, the center was a fortress city, and while you couldn't quite say Rusworth was twice the size, it was considerably larger.
Upon our arrival, our group headed for a magnificent castle.
However, I had already noticed the problems Rusworth harbored. No—I should say I had been made to notice them.
On the way to the castle, that prosperity caught my eye.
And the closer we got to this fortress city at the center, the more prosperous the villages and towns became.
In other words—
"We just barely made it in time. With this, we should be ready for the next battle."
An elderly man with long white hair styled into vertical drills said this upon seeing our group arrive.
The man was Letol Hardoa—Rusworth's renowned prime minister. This prime minister, in truth, had greater fame the closer you got to this fortress city at the center.
In other words, it meant this prime minister was capable of governing the central territory.
Beside him, a woman watched as cargo was unloaded from a large porter.
The second of the war maidens.
That would be Elza Rusworth. She was watching the work from nearby. No — it felt more like she was supervising.
She wasn't taciturn, but she gave off a quiet impression. The sense of coldness that clung to her probably stemmed from her composure and bearing.
"Hey, you over there."
The person Elza addressed was Novem. Novem turned and offered a greeting, but Elza waved it off as unnecessary.
She lightly brushed back her long, light-blue hair. Her violet eyes, sharp and piercing, felt cold. They were different from Gracia's violet eyes, even though those were the same shade. And of course, they were nothing like Novem's eyes either.
"Yes?"
"...You went ahead to Galleria, didn't you? How was it — what state was that witch in?"
Elza wore clothing similar to what a knight would don — just like Gracia. Gracia gave off the air of a warrior, yet the impression Elza left was somehow different. Why was that?
When Novem smiled with a troubled look—
"We were serving as guards, so we didn't have any conversation."
Upon hearing that, Elza snorted.
"Is that so. I was hoping to hear about how she was trembling before the battle. Well, no matter."
Her silver staff looked almost like a mace. Holding it in one hand and slinging it over her shoulder, Elza regarded the cargo and spoke.
"Baim's shipment made it in time. Now we can fight without worry. Next time, I'll put an end to that bastard for good."
Her smile radiated something utterly cold.
The prime minister bowed his head.
"Please leave the administrative affairs to me. Until Lady Elza returns, I, Retor, shall manage things properly."
I didn't miss how Elza's reaction lagged for just an instant at the prime minister's words.
(What was that?)
"...I'm counting on you, Prime Minister. It's good to have you around. Now then, I'll head back to the castle and begin preparations. Leave the merchants to you."
"Y-Yes, ma'am!"
The prime minister saluted, then turned and headed back into the castle with his entourage in tow.
Once Elza was out of sight, the prime minister's demeanor grew a bit more imperious.
"Don't dawdle. We're on a tight schedule here."
The merchants' representative hurried along the workers at his words. Nobles had gathered around the prime minister's position.
"Prime Minister, this should just barely get us there in time for the battle."
"Indeed, it will. Still, Baim doesn't show us or Galleria any goodwill — hard to trust the man."
He couldn't agree more, but that was just how merchants were.
(After all, Baim's merchants are merchants of death.)
For better or worse, Baim was essentially a gathering of such merchants.
Inside the Jewel, the Third Generation seemed to have noticed something.
"Hmm... is it this one?"
And the Fourth Generation spoke with certainty.
"It is. The fellow they call the Bewildered Prime Minister."
So they said.
——Inside the Rusworth castle.
Elza had taken a shower and was now lying alone on her bed in her room.
"Ah... I suppose Gracia really didn't give any letters to the merchants after all. I was a little hopeful, but..."
She sighed and reached for a box in the room. Inside were a gift and a letter she had received previously.
The contents were a medicine for skin irritation.
"I'd like to thank you properly, but every time I try to order something like this, the Prime Minister gets fussy about it. Something about taxes being the blood and sweat of the people... He'd just tell me to look in the mirror."
Though she was called the Queen, Elza understood better than anyone that she was nothing more than a convenient pawn for the Prime Minister.
In the beginning, she had simply been known as the strongest among the Rusworth royal family. Her relatives kept their distance from her, and she spent most of her childhood in the borderlands where she had been sent away.
By the time she learned of the turmoil in the capital, everything had already ended. And when the royals needed a puppet king, that was who they chose.
That was Elza.
"I should write a letter to apologize. Or rather, if only there were something I could give them... Actually, I wish I could wear cuter clothes."
Nearly all the clothing she owned was knight's armor for official duties. The royal vestments were not something Elza was allowed to wear, and when she'd suggested dresses, she'd been talked down into wearing the knight's gear instead.
The Prime Minister was probably satisfied, since it suited his own tastes, but Elza certainly was not.
She had been dragged to the capital without warning and made into a queen. And if she didn't do exactly as the Prime Minister said, her life would be in genuine danger.
The one who had killed off the royal family members who refused to comply was unmistakably the Prime Minister.
Elza couldn't muster sympathy for relatives she had never even met, but she knew full well the filthy methods the Prime Minister employed. She was also keenly aware that someone like her could be disposed of just as easily.
"Sigh... another war, apparently. We've already gone through the briefings, but honestly, I'm not looking forward to this."
Tall but endearing, Elza flopped her bare feet on the bed and hugged her pillow.
After thrashing about for a while, she let out a sigh and stood up.
"Guess I should get ready."
She reached for the outfit that had been prepared with obvious reluctance, stripped off what she was wearing until she was bare, and began to change——
That day.
I witnessed an unbelievable sight.
Having broken away from the supply convoy heading from Rusworth to Rolfis, I rode atop May in her Kirin form and gazed down at the scene from the sky.
"W-What the hell is this..."
Pale blue-white flames surged toward the battlefield, but a massive wall of ice rose up to block them. Shards of ice rained down onto the ground below, and upon impact, plumes of dust erupted into the air.
People were being sent flying by the shockwaves, but those were the soldiers stationed behind the two combatants, shielding themselves from the onslaught.
On the battlefield, two women had taken the front lines, and a one-on-one duel was unfolding between them.
The collateral damage continued to injure soldiers on both sides, and after a while, both combatants pulled back.
Watching that scene from high above in the sky, I—
"There's absolutely nothing normal about those two."
That was all I murmured.
Then, Mireia's voice came through the Jewel.
"…Those are rear-line support-type Skills. Both of them look like the wide-area coverage type."
The Fifth Generation offered a single remark.
"If we'd lured them here before the defensive battle, things would've been a lot easier. Well, they're plenty as fighting strength, no question."
The Third Generation mused thoughtfully.
"The question is how we go about recruiting them."
I thought to myself.
…Huh? They're planning to recruit them?