Gina was waiting for her older sister Vera, who had returned from the port to the mansion.
She had called Vera over, claiming she had something important to discuss, and had a room prepared for them to speak privately. The room was typically used for meetings and negotiations with guests — it was rare for the sisters to use it themselves.
Having summoned her sister to such a place, Gina watched Vera while absently touching her own red hair.
The room had grown dim as the sun began to set.
" sis, let me be blunt. Could you please stop funneling money to that man? It's not just your problem, you know."
At her younger sister's words, Vera lowered the cup from her lips.
"...This isn't Father's orders, is it? What's brought this on all of a sudden? Besides, I haven't even touched the Trace family's finances."
Gina brushed aside her sister's explanation.
"When you provide support, it looks like the whole Trace family is supporting him! And Father has been moving enormous sums too... even among our own people, there are those who are growing uneasy. You've increased the number of ships and even gotten involved in developing the port."
Vera narrowed her eyes. To Gina, her older sister Vera had long been called the goddess of fortune — a woman who moved ships and contributed to the Trace family. That was why she knew her sister handled business matters directly through their father, Fidel.
It wasn't that Gina lacked knowledge herself, but she was well aware that in terms of hands-on experience, she fell far short.
Still, there were many within the Trace family who harbored doubts about the support being given to Lyle.
Vera spoke matter-of-factly.
"You can monopolize the commercial use of the port, you know? Two of them, at that. When you consider the scale, the profits it would bring to the Trace family should be obvious even to you, Gina?"
That tone of Vera's always made Gina want to push back. The Trace family could certainly grow even larger, but her sister often let the Balance of Baim slip from her priorities.
Gina was fiercely vigilant about any shift in factions or the balance of power.
"...I know it would bring enormous profits. But what do you suppose the merchants of Baim will think of us because of it?"
Vera replied.
"That's Father's job to handle. He can certainly manage to keep things balanced so we don't come off as taking all the spoils for ourselves. And if we can do a good deed along the way, that's profit too."
Favor and profit both. It was precisely because of that cold, calculating side of Vera — the one who spoke in such absolute terms — that Gina had kept silent until now. But things were different now.
"Even when it comes to Laiel? Is it all just a cost-benefit calculation to you?"
When Gina dropped the honorific and spoke his name outright, Vera's gaze turned sharp.
"...Don't call him by his name like that. I'm only supporting him within my means. And you know Father well enough — he wouldn't just hand out support because he happens to be soft on his own daughter."
"That's exactly why I want both you and Father to stop. You're both too blinded by short-term greed. Baim isn't so easy to exploit."
Her older sister Vera was obsessed with Laiel, and her father Fidel was obsessed with securing exclusive rights to the port.
Because of that, neither of them could see clearly what Baim was truly planning to do with Laiel. That was Gina's assessment.
In a sense, she was right.
"I'm going to do as I please."
Realizing that Vera would not be easy to persuade, Gina decided to speak her honest thoughts instead.
"Sis, that man isn't so harmless. The moment you lose your usefulness to him, he'll toss you aside without a second thought. You know what he did at Zayin and Ledant Fortress, and with Galleria and Rusworth, don't you? He's dangerous. To him, you're nothing more than a walking purse."
Ignoring Gina's warning, Vera rose to her feet.
"...I'm well aware of that. But he hasn't caused you any trouble, has he? He never spoke ill of Roland, either. At this point... never mind. It's fine."
As Vera left the room, Gina watched her go. Once her sister disappeared from view, she raised the cup to her lips and narrowed her eyes.
"If my sister, who was thrown out of the house, gets discarded by him, I'll step in to help. After all, we're sisters... Sis looks good standing on a ship's deck. I'll just have her keep working hard for Roland. If she can give her all for a man she once loved, that's good enough, isn't it?"
Gina spoke as though being cast aside was a foregone conclusion, but she had her own reasons for taking action. If the Trace family grew any larger, the chances of Laiel and Vera marrying on the strength of that accomplishment would only rise.
And if that happened, Roland wouldn't be nearly enough to manage an even bigger Trace household. He was earnest and hardworking by nature, but those qualities alone would not suffice to run an inflated family like theirs.
If that came to pass, the one truly heading the household would end up being Laiel — and in practice, Vera.
Worse still, Fidel would likely separate Gina from Roland and rush her into a political marriage to preserve the family's standing.
For Gina, that was absolutely unacceptable. And so, she decided to act.
To the south of Baim.
In this completely undeveloped, unexplored place, I was wiping the sweat from my forehead.
Perhaps it was still hot seasonally, or maybe it was because of the location, but it felt hotter here than in Baim.
Novem, Clara, Eva, and May were moving separately to handle a request from the Guild. They had been sent that way to deal with Monsters and help with the reconstruction of a village.
As for me, I had come to subdue a discovered Dungeon.
The entrance was inside the gate of an old fortress, and the dungeon seemed to be a continuation of the fortress's corridors.
Torches had been prepared, but an eerie purple flame illuminated the passages. Even so, it was better than nothing, which I was grateful for.
Dungeons sometimes manifested in man-made structures like this too. In most cases, they became dungeons where Undead roamed, destined to be subdued quickly.
Most Undead would vanish once defeated, leaving behind only Magic Stones. With no other materials, defeating them was troublesome and very tedious Monsters.
There were even rumors that they were spawned from the lingering grudges of those annihilated on battlefields.
Having been dispatched to such a place, we had been given this particular dungeon precisely because its circumstances made it unlikely to be profitable.
The fortress entrance had become a dungeon entrance, but its surroundings were dilapidated. Trees spread around the area, and the land itself was in terrible condition.
I looked at the dungeon together with Miranda.
"So what do we want to do? We could tackle it ourselves, but the return would be minimal. Besides, no guild staff are coming to survey this area either... Hey, are we being treated pretty poorly?"
Miranda's anger was understandable. We had been told to subdue the dungeon with almost no support.
It wasn't the Eastern Branch, but rather the headquarters that had made that arrangement.
From within the Jewel, the Fifth Generation watched the current situation.
'...If that's how it is, is it about time? It happened sooner than I expected. Well, I guess it's better than them getting bogged down elsewhere, though.'
The successive heads, who had anticipated this development, showed no signs of panic. The Third Generation was particularly nonchalant.
'Rather than that, if we've been assigned here, shouldn't we buy some time while we scope things out? If they're going to make a move, it'll probably be after Laiel returns to Baim.'
They were trying to use this situation while probing Baim's movements. Reliable as always, but not the kind of people you'd want as enemies. I was starting to feel sorry for Baim.
I said to Miranda.
"...A commission is a commission. I'll do the job properly. We'll take our time. Let's make sure we lay a solid foundation before Novem and the others get back."
Exasperated, Miranda looked at me and pressed a hand to her forehead.
"'Take our time' — that's easy to say, but it'll just be tedious. There aren't even that many floors. There are only slightly more treasure chests than usual, and the monsters are all undead, so let's just finish this qu—"
Just as Miranda was voicing her objection, Monica came rushing up to me. If not panicked exactly, she at least seemed to be racing against something.
She slid to a stop right in front of me and struck a pose as she delivered her report.
"Chicken! This Monica has discovered a nearby dungeon! Please praise me! This Monica! Come on, come on!!"
Suddenly, three fists flew straight at Monica. The impact sent her flying away from in front of me, and wire-connected arms retracted back to their owners.
There stood Valkyrie No. 1, No. 2, and No. 3, weapons drawn and aimed at Monica.
"We're the ones who found it!"
"You thief cat!"
"Accept your iron-fist justice!"
I shifted my gaze from the expressionless trio still holding their poses to Monica. I watched as she rose to her feet, large drills spinning at high speed on both arms.
I couldn't help but admire that her twin tails never got tangled.
"You junkyard defective knockoffs... Reporting to the Chicken, getting praised, and even getting scolded — that's this Monica's job! I'll scrap you all right here and now!!"
Monica and the others broke into a brawl. Exasperated, I let out a sigh while Miranda shrugged her shoulders. The Valkyries — the mass-produced models — then approached Miranda and me with a situation report. While Monica and the others were fighting, they had apparently prepared documentation for us.
"Master, here is the report. Miranda, please take one as well."
Miranda accepted it and thanked them.
"Thank you. More thoughtful than Monica, aren't you? That girl's rough with everyone except Laiel."
Miranda flipped through the documents as she spoke.
I looked over the reports as well and discovered there was a dungeon nearby. It was a cave-type dungeon remarkably close to us, and as dungeons went, it looked quite promising.
"…This one's pretty good, too."
They were apparently still investigating the first and second basement floors, but the corridor widths left nothing to complain about. It was a textbook dungeon layout, and as I was about to report it to Baim… the Seventh Generation stopped me.
"Laiel, you really are a man with a knack for this. Good — keep this one quiet from Baim."
I glanced at Miranda. She saw that I was gripping the Jewel and gave a silent nod, then turned her attention back to the documents.
Since she already knew the situation, I was able to hold conversations like this — with voices from within the Jewel — right in front of Miranda.
"You're going to keep it quiet? Who knows what Baim will say about it."
"Don't worry about it. Just make it look like things are taking time. Destroy the fortress dungeon quickly, then take your time investigating the promising ones. Besides… don't you think this area is excellent? Yes — it would be perfectly suited for a second Baim."
I roughly understood what the Seventh Generation was thinking and nodded in agreement. If I climbed to slightly higher ground, I could see the ocean.
Mireia looked delighted.
"Oh my, there's a spot where you could build a port."
The Third Generation spoke as if it all made sense.
"There's a fortress here, after all. This must have been an important location in the past. Hmm, thinking about the future, this could work out well. If merchants were to turn this into another Baim, I bet they'd restore its former glory in less than a hundred years. …Of course, I'll be imposing some regulations!"
When Miranda saw me make a displeased face, thinking I was scheming something awful again, she looked my way.
"You were having conversations like that even when you were with us?"
She asked me that. I nodded, then released the Jewel and issued orders to the Valkyries.
"Head back to Baim and deliver letters to Damian and the others. Also, conduct a survey of the cave dungeon. As for the fortress, we'll wipe it out in one push with the main force… Now then, shall we do some construction to make the surrounding area more livable?"
I looked around as I gave my orders, completely ignoring Monica and the others who were still fighting.
Monica was screaming, launching the massive drills attached to both her arms.
"Double Drill Knuckle!"
"Too slow!"
"That move's so transparent—what?!"
"A d-they've got a second stance…!"
They were getting pretty worked up over there, but I turned toward Monica and the others.
"Hey, you lot. Get back to work. Hurry up and get over here."
Monica, who had massive metal fists attached to her arms, froze in place and stowed her weapons. She brushed the dust off and came running toward me.
"Okaaay. You care more about us than a bunch of scraps like them—oh, and that important report of mine—"
"Yeah, yeah, I already heard it, so don't worry about it."
I told Monica I'd already heard her report, then refused to listen any further, heading toward the tent together with Miranda. Monica was left frozen in place with a delighted expression on her face, while the Valkyries pointed at her and mimed laughing.
Thinking it must be inconvenient not being able to show expression, I decided to consult Damian about it.
——At Lyle's mansion in Baim, Adele was reading a letter.
Maxim watched her with a worried expression.
"How is it, milady?"
What Maxim was worried about was the situation in their homeland—their own territory. Adele regularly received information like this.
"There haven't been any updates since the defensive battle, so I was worried, but it seems to be fine. They might lose interest as long as we don't resist. It sounds like they're currently fighting other lords who are resisting."
Upon hearing that, Maxim's shoulders slumped.
"Can't we somehow get them to stop resisting? Just for now is enough. If we could do that, then in a few years—"
He was about to say that in a few years Lyle would be able to mobilize, but Adele shook her head.
"The maximum forces the Four-Nation Alliance can deploy, excluding rear support, would be just over forty thousand at most. Even if domestic affairs went well over a few years, I doubt we'd reach fifty thousand. That wouldn't be enough. To fight Banseim, we'd need at least a hundred thousand, even by the most conservative estimate. And even then, Lyle would have to keep winning with minimal damage while rallying the nobles inside Banseim… But asking them to wait that long would likely exhaust the lords within Banseim as well."
Maxim scratched his head as he felt Banseim's national power from the outside like this. When he'd been inside the country, he hadn't thought much of it, but the gap in national strength was staggering.
With its grip on the central part of the continent and its ever-expanding military, Banseim could field at least a hundred thousand troops from the central region alone. If they pushed themselves, it could be two hundred thousand to three hundred thousand.
And if they added the forces of their formidable vassal lords, they could deploy ten times what Maxim's side had.
Maxim spoke.
"So cooperation from the surrounding nations is absolutely essential, then? But we can't very well drag other countries any further into Banseim's internal affairs—"
That was exactly what was eating at Adele.
"I know, but these are extraordinary times. We'd probably need to offer the surrounding nations the very territories we're fighting them over. Besides, I'm not sure the Four-Nation Alliance would agree to lend us troops again and again. At the very least, if the surrounding nations could keep up the pressure..."
The two of them were grappling desperately with the problem, but what Lyle aimed for was the unification of the continent. Setting aside the small nations, very few countries could stand up to Banseim.
Cartaphus was the greatest threat to Banseim. After that, there was Fonbeau, and then only a handful of other nations.
Maxim looked uneasy.
"My lady... Lord Lyle intends to build an empire, but is that even possible? We don't have any military forces of our own. Those Automatons, was it? Even if they're exceptional, there are only around a hundred of them."
Adele was equally at her wit's end.
"...I know, right. The forces Lyle has may be high in quality, but the numbers are far too small. We have to find some way to overcome that."
Both Adele and Maxim desperately searched for a way out of their predicament—