Adele and Maxim, who had traveled from Redant Fortress to Banseim, poked their heads out from the tent stretched over the bed of a specially prepared covered wagon.
The horses wore collars — Mana Tools. They boosted the horses' stamina and speed, inscribed with a type of enhancement Skill.
The covered wagon had been modified by the blacksmith and Monica, making the ride surprisingly smooth. Valkyries draped in robes sat in a circle around it.
Maxim gazed forward in silence from inside the wagon bed. The Valkyries were handling the driving, leaving him with nothing to do.
"...It's awfully quiet, isn't it, Lady Adele?"
Maxim spoke to Adele, who was studying her map. Without lifting her eyes from it, she replied.
"They may seem silent, but apparently they can hold conversations too. Through Rael, Monica manages the group as a whole. Do anything suspicious, and it'll be known to all of them in an instant."
"Suspicious" didn't just mean embarrassing things. It meant that if Adele and her companions caused any trouble, the Valkyries — and by extension Rael — would find out.
This was a critical period. If they failed, Rael and the others would cut them loose without hesitation. Adele was well aware that if they committed any act of betrayal, the Valkyries — powerful allies — would turn their blades on them.
Rael was usually somewhat airheaded, but he could be surprisingly strict. Despite his youth, he wasn't impulsive, and the fact that he employed underhanded tactics earned him respect from both Adele and Maxim.
"I'll be careful. But Banseim has declared war on us, and Baim seems to lack any real sense of urgency..."
Maxim stroked his chin, remembering Redant Fortress. Naturally, many merchants passed through Redant Fortress. They hadn't even imposed travel restrictions — a response befitting a merchant city.
Moreover, while Banseim had declared war, this was not a time when they could act. These circumstances combined to drain any real tension from the situation.
"Does Baim think they can win?"
Adele let out a sigh.
"...They've been rolling countries in the palm of their hand for so long. They may well be underestimating us. Besides, many of them are extraordinarily capable fighters in their own right. The adventurers tempered in the Dungeons under Baim's control are the real deal. The merchants watching all of this are probably underestimating Banseim as well."
Maxim crossed his arms and looked down slightly. He was originally a knight in Banseim — albeit a vassal's vassal. And he had been considered one of Banseim's finest.
The knights who had trained alongside him were defeated by Ceres, and he'd learned just how vast the gap in their abilities truly was.
Unable to seek revenge, Maxim had turned to Rael in Baim for help.
But the time had finally come for Baim to make its move. Even as Maxim seethed with frustration at Baim's underestimation of Ceres' true strength, the fact that it was all proceeding as planned left him with a complicated feeling he couldn't quite put into words.
"Monsters and people are different, you know. I'd really prefer it if you didn't lump combat with Monsters together with actual warfare."
Adele looked up from the map and met Maxim's gaze.
"By the time you realize that, it'll be too late."
What they were aiming for was the territory of Landed Nobility resisting within Banseim — anti-House Walt, though from Ceres' perspective, the conflict was increasingly shaping up as anti-Royal.
House after house had been crushed, giving the impression of a nationwide purge. In reality, Central's forces — and further, the royal faction centered on House Walt — were systematically demolishing opposition forces one after another.
Adele also had to investigate the territories that were showing no movement in the midst of all this.
"Let's gather information within Banseim as well. We should head to the territories that are resisting. Depending on how things go, they may need our support too. If the south goes well, we can send supplies from both north and south. The north is Cartafus, so that's no problem, but the south — it'd be great if Janpea would cooperate."
Adele could only pray that Novem and the others who had headed south would be able to successfully secure cooperation.
Maxim said.
"Let's also rely on the Landed Nobility who are willing to cooperate with us. If possible, I'd like some information on Central too. It'd be nice if we could make it all the way to Darion."
The place names Adele and Maxim spoke of were, in fact, Darion — the same Darion where Rael and Novem had once become adventurers.
We departed Galleria and headed for Rusworth.
However, thanks to a messenger from Rolfis, we were unable to meet Eliza. We pressed on toward Cartafus, and were about to disembark at the port of Cartafus and head for the castle.
This was where Vera and I would part ways.
"Rael, you'd better come back alive. Don't let anyone die. There's no point in winning if you're not alive to see it."
I scratched my cheek with my fingertip as I nodded in response to Vera's words.
"I know."
I never had any intention of dying to defeat Ceres. Winning while staying alive — that was my promise to the Successive Heads.
"I'd rather aim to be a living villain than a dead hero."
When I said that, Vera gave a little smile.
"That's fine by me. If you're going to stay alive, a great villain works too. I'll follow you all the way to hell."
As I stood there, feeling a bit flustered by her words, the Third Generation had one thing to say.
'...Good boy.'
That was what she said.
Behind me, my companions waited with their luggage stripped to a minimum. Aria had put her spear away and now wore a sword at her hip. She carried no baggage and was dressed to fight at a moment's notice.
"Laiel, hurry up. The knights are waiting for you."
Where Aria's gaze pointed, knights stood ready at the spot that had been prepared. Clara, who had been watching them, had her large staff resting on one shoulder and was pushing her glasses up slightly with her left hand.
"They seem rather restless. They might be worried about the time."
Then Vera turned to me.
"It wouldn't do to keep Her Majesty waiting, and it'd cause trouble for Laiel. So this is goodbye for a little while. You'd better come back — that's an order."
She closed one eye in a wink, then headed toward the ship. She raised her right hand and waved. She probably couldn't see me, but I waved back anyway.
As I started walking toward the carriage, Monica spoke with an exasperated tone.
"Chicken. One of your party looks awfully pale. Look at her... she's like a sick person."
The one with the pale face was Shannon. Either she hadn't been able to fall asleep the night before, or she'd stayed up the entire night — in any case, she was in terrible shape from seasickness and sleep deprivation.
"...Be a little gentler with me. Right now, I'm an invalid."
I covered my face with my left hand.
"I'm suddenly starting to worry about the journey ahead. Shannon, once we reach the castle, make sure you get some rest right away. Monica, stay with Shannon and look after her."
Monica made a face like she'd rather not, but—
"I'll do it if you order me to. Honestly, I'd rather not. But since it's an order from the Chicken..."
Watching the exchange with Monica, Aria walked on ahead.
"Come on, hurry up. Shannon, you let Laiel carry you."
Aria needed to stay light in case something happened, but having the petite Clara do it would draw unwanted attention. Monica was already carrying luggage, so naturally, it fell to me.
"...Should I carry you on my shoulder? Or piggyback?"
I said it as a joke, but Shannon gave a strained grin despite her pale face.
"Try it. If I feel like throwing up, I'll dump it all over you."
She really seemed like she would, so I decided to go with the princess carry option, which was the only feasible solution.
A short distance away, Mr. Rauno watched us, shaking his head.
"So this is the hero party from Baim. Quite the leisurely atmosphere you've got going on."
I laughed.
"What's wrong with that? If we get tense now, it won't last."
Hearing that, Mr. Rauno also smiled.
"True enough. ...I'm not going to the castle. I'll head to the castle town instead. We'll meet at the gate on the day of departure."
"Understood."
I nodded, and Mr. Rauno and I went our separate ways.
—— Rauno, walking through the castle town, had suppressed his presence.
There were knights he knew in the area, and the last thing he wanted was to be seen in his current state. He'd been driven from the country, branded a disgrace to knighthood and a liability by the previous king.
To avoid trouble, he used his skill to mask his presence as he walked.
That was when it happened.
A loud voice erupted from the direction of a tavern.
"What a joke! What do you mean 'rescue him and he becomes king'? Is Her Majesty the Queen out of her mind? Swear our loyalty to that brat? Don't make me laugh!"
The announcement that Laiel would be taken as a consort had not been officially made yet. But within the castle, Queen Ludmilla was openly declaring that Laiel would be her husband. Rumors spread quickly, and it seemed she was deliberately fanning the flames.
(Dissatisfaction is only natural. I wonder how Laiel and the others will respond... I should probably inform them.)
To relay the information accurately, Rauno was listening from the shadows.
"Speaking of which, did you know that Rauno was part of that group back then?"
One of the trio of knights said this, and another raised an eyebrow. The third was apparently a young knight who had no idea who Rauno was.
"Who is he?"
"A disgrace to the knights. A man who uses his Skills like a peeping tom and doesn't hesitate to do dirty work. The previous head had him expelled as unfit to be a knight. He could have had him executed, even."
Rauno was unfazed by hearing the reactions of ordinary knights. The dirty work had been carried out on Rauno's own responsibility.
And when it came to light, Rauno was exiled. To most knights, Rauno was known as a ruthless knight.
"So that's the kind of man they're using. That guy Laiel must be the same — someone who stoops to filthy means. Some hero of Baim he is. If Cartafus wanted to be a knight, the best he could hope for was being a janitor."
Watching the trio venting their frustrations after drinking and growing bold, Rauno let out a sigh.
Then one of them spoke up.
"Man, if only I'd been the one to save Her Majesty, I'd be king by now."
Rauno felt a bitter smile forming. The thought of how they had failed to take any action to save her, couldn't even gather information, and had let Larluk walk all over them — it was almost laughable. Truly something to scoff at.
After listening to a few more grievances, Rauno began to walk away as the conversation started going in circles. Even though he told himself these were just the ramblings of drunkards, he couldn't help but feel, somewhere deep down, that his hometown was a little cold toward him.
(Colder than Baim, that's for sure. I suppose it can't be helped, being up north.)
Sensing a chill that went beyond just the temperature, Rauno vanished into the crowd.
Meanwhile, in a room within the castle, Aria and Clara sat on either side of Laiel.
An extravagant feast was laid out across the table, and a band played to welcome Laiel and his companions.
Servants and knight escorts lined the surrounding area, and before Laiel, Ludmilla sat in the most extravagant chair of all, her legs crossed.
She brought the rim of her wine glass to her lips, took the slightest sip, then drew it away. The gesture was languid and alluring.
Aria watched Ludmilla and felt a small pang of jealousy.
(So this is the woman they call a knight-royal — I thought she'd be more rough and coarse.)
Comparing herself to Ludmilla, Aria felt that the other woman surpassed her in every way.
Ludmilla spoke.
"How was the meal? To your liking?"
Laiel wore a bright smile.
"Yes, it was absolutely delicious. Being welcomed like this almost makes me feel guilty."
Ludmilla let out a soft laugh.
"It's for my future husband. This much is the least I can do."
She declared Laiel her future husband straight to his face, without a shred of embarrassment. Aria glanced over at Laiel. He was smiling, but she thought she caught a faint, bitter edge to it — she noticed because she had known him so long.
She had known him since their days in Darion. Excluding Novem, Aria had been with Laiel longer than anyone.
(We've been together over a year now, but it flew by in the blink of an eye.)
Once winter gave way to spring, it would be nearly two years. Aria was a year older than Laiel and was about to turn eighteen.
She hadn't neglected the care of her red hair, but she was still an adventurer. There were times when upkeep was impossible, and honestly, she had never been the type to fuss over meticulous grooming in the first place. Her skin had tanned further than before, giving her the unmistakable look of a woman who made her living in the field.
The scars that never faded had multiplied as well. Compared to Ludmilla, Aria couldn't help but feel a sense of inferiority.
At that moment, Ludmilla turned her gaze toward Aria and the others.
"I've had baths prepared for you as well. Take your time tonight and let the fatigue of your journey melt away. And also… I'd like to have a word with the two of you over there."
The two Ludmilla had singled out were Aria and Clara —
Clara had come to the bathing area alongside Aria, invited by Ludmilla.
It was a grand bathhouse — the pool, carved from solid rock, bore elaborate engravings and was adorned with gold.
A grand bathhouse, yet Ludmilla was said to be the only one who normally used it. Female knights stood at attention on all sides, standing guard.
The surrounding scenery held plenty to draw the eye, yet Clara and Aria's gazes remained fixed on Ludmilla's body.
They hadn't noticed before, since she wore clothing that exposed so little skin. But Ludmilla's body, too, was riddled with wounds — a painful sight to behold.
"Prettier than I expected. That Riel fellow looked away when he saw my body, so I wondered if he had some peculiar taste, but it seems not. This is promising."
Ludmilla smiled as she lounged in the bath, legs stretched out. She had settled onto the stone steps, so she looked as though she were sitting in a chair.
Clara and Aria both stared, breathless, at the ghastly sight. Since Ludmilla had fought as a knight, her body was bound to be covered in such wounds. No — perhaps it was only natural.
"You have... quite a lot of... injuries, don't you?"
When Clara asked this, Ludmilla laughed.
"I was headstrong in my younger days. I'd always rush to the front, refusing to be outdone by any man, which gave my subordinates no end of trouble. Nearly died a few times before I finally knocked some sense into myself. Back then, I never would have imagined becoming queen."
She wore dark clothing that clung tight to her skin — it seemed she never bared her flesh in order to hide those scars.
Ludmilla, looking slightly embarrassed, continued.
"I may have mentioned it before, but I accept concubines. He's that sort of man, after all. I'd like to keep him all to myself, but given the scale of his ambitions, that's simply not possible. So then... would the two of you lend me your strength?"
At the words "lend me your strength," Clara was thrown into confusion.
"Um, could that possibly mean—"
When Aria asked tentatively, Ludmilla answered with a dark smile.
"That's right. A faction. He already has more than ten women, and that number will only keep growing, won't it? So wouldn't it be only natural to have a faction of one's own?"
Clara considered what she should do.
(A faction to stand against Novem and Miranda... That sounds like such a hassle.)
Watching the two of them in silence, Ludmilla spoke.
"Well, think about it. I'll offer you better terms than anyone else. After all, Cartaphus is a major power. Besides, the women from Rusworth and Galleria don't get along. And once a country is involved, it's inevitable that they can't cooperate."
Aria was troubled. Naturally, so was Clara. The fact that Ludmilla was laying her cards on the table so boldly made her wonder what criteria she'd used to choose them, which was also frightening. Clara asked:
"Do you not think we're already involved with a faction?"
Ludmilla saw right through them.
"I think you are. But you don't have a concrete one, do you? If you tried something at this stage, the party would fall apart immediately."
Aria stood up. She bared her trained body, and her large chest shook.
"Then why now of all times!"
Ludmilla answered with a serious expression.
"...I have no intention of getting in your way. But those are the Rusworth and Galleria witches. That's a problem. They're not used to men, and they don't understand men at all. They'll become possessive right away. If that happens, they'll definitely drag you down. Actually, if I hadn't moved Rolfis to interfere, they might have made a move on Rael. That wouldn't be fun for you either, would it?"
It seemed Ludmilla had been involved, which was why a messenger had come from Rolfis at such a convenient time.
Clara remembered what Novem had told her.
'Please protect Sir Rael's chastity. It's fine to use Aria and Monica.'
That was what she'd said. Novem had seemed wary, but Ludmilla was also on guard, it appeared.
When Ludmilla saw Clara's face, she said:
"You knew too? Well, it doesn't matter. You've barely kept the balance so far, but you won't be able to say that from now on, right? As for me, I don't want a grand plan like this to be ruined by a woman problem. I won't force you to join the faction. But it would make me happy if you didn't get in the way and cooperated."
Seeing Ludmilla's smiling face, Aria was also speechless. Clara realized she didn't have the strength to control the women alone, and she didn't fully trust Novem either.
After looking down for a moment, she said:
"I understand. We'll cooperate."
Ludmilla smiled, and Aria looked at Clara with a surprised expression.
"I'm happy about that. I had you looked into, but ever since then, I've wanted to have you by my side."
It appeared Ludmilla had already investigated information on Clara and the others. And having done so, she had extended the invitation on that basis.
Aria looked at Clara with an expression of utter disbelief.
"Clara, you..."
In the bathhouse without Lyle, the conflict between the women was gradually escalating—.