The Kingdom of Fonbeau.
Its capital, the heart of the nation, lay close to Banseim.
It had originally been situated near the center of the country, but the eastern reaches of Fonbeau—the western territory of Banseim—had been carved away significantly by House Walt. Because of that, the capital now felt as though it leaned closer to Banseim's side.
The Royal Palace of Fonbeau.
Not quite on the scale of Banseim's, but still classified as a major nation on the continent. The palace was both splendid and functional.
The kingdom's military strength had never been held in particularly high regard, but that was partly House Walt's doing as well. By most estimates, Fonbeau could field an army of one hundred thousand. It was a nation that had to be secured if they ever hoped to fight the Kingdom of Banseim.
And so, in the audience hall of this very Kingdom of Fonbeau, I stood as the sole representative of my companions—and found myself bathed in murderous gazes from every direction.
Standing atop the red carpet, with the King and Queen before me and dignitaries pressing in from all sides, cold sweat trickled down my back.
Yet inside the Jewel, the Seventh Generation spoke with a tone of fond reminiscence.
"Oh my, I recognize a few faces here. Not from any formal introduction, of course—but I did spot them on the battlefield when I was chasing them about, and again when they were taken prisoner."
The problems between House Walt and Fonbeau had arisen during the era of the Sixth and Seventh Generations. If one believed their accounts, then Banseim bore some fault as well. Fonbeau had invaded, only to be driven back by the Sixth and Seventh Generations across two successive heads, who then seized territory in the process.
Mireia chimed in with a soft giggle.
"Even though he's become a grandfather, there are still people alive who remember the humiliations of the past. Their stomachs must be churning something fierce."
The Third Generation, meanwhile, appeared to be deep in serious thought.
"So, do we provoke them outright, or do we dig into those old wounds nice and slow... Damn, it sounds like either option leads to something entertaining, which is a problem."
—Useless. That was the Third Generation all along. Among all the Successive Heads, had the Third Generation secretly been the worst of them all? I was starting to think so.
His Majesty, the King of Fonbeau, addressed me.
"Now then—let us hear from your own mouth what business brings you to Fonbeau, you whelp of House Walt."
A brazenly rude opening, but the Seventh Generation suddenly spoke up as if something had just occurred to him.
"I remember now! This lad is the Crown Prince I captured! The Crown Prince who got utterly demolished by me in his very first battle went and became King... That would put him in his mid to late forties by now. That crybaby from back then has really made something of himself."
The Fifth Generation spoke with a bored air.
"What are you talking about? He's the young one from our perspective. Hey, Lyle... let's rile him up."
But then Mireia said something unexpected.
"You mustn't rile him up. It will only derail the conversation, and there is no point speaking with this man anyway. It seems the one who truly matters is watching from the shadows."
The person Mireia had called the one who truly matters. The Sixth Generation's Skill — Spec — showed that individual lingering near the throne, observing them. The gaze from that spot, like the wings of a stage, carried neither killing intent nor resentment. It was simply the look of someone appraising them.
"Within Banseim's borders, I believe you are aware there have been signs of unrest. The surrounding nations appear to hold growing concerns about Banseim. You should have received correspondence from the Four-Nation Alliance near Baim in the east, as well as from Kartafus in the north?"
At the King of Fonbeau's response to the speaker's words, His Majesty snorted.
"Why not put it plainly? A daughter of House Walt rampaging through our kingdom. House Walt really is a most troublesome clan. And now they've gone and deceived the neighboring countries, trying to drag the continent into a war between brother and sister. If that isn't the very definition of troublesome, I don't know what is."
He was being perfectly blunt about it. From the outside, this certainly looked like a struggle for supremacy between siblings that could engulf the entire continent. But the future of the continent itself hung in the balance.
"So the Kingdom of Fonbeau intends to turn a blind eye? We have already secured cooperation from the south, with Janpea at the center. The remaining concern was the western front, but... it appears Fonbeau has no interest in cooperating. In that case, I shall simply seek help elsewhere."
The speaker was taking the position of not really needing Fonbeau to join — and for good reason. They truly didn't. At worst, all that was needed was for them not to interfere.
If Fonbeau chose to attack during Banseim's chaos, the speaker would simply have to task the margrave with holding the line.
The King of Fonbeau looked slightly surprised at the mention of Janpea. News of Janpea's cooperation apparently had not yet reached him.
"So you've won over the south as well. The King of Janpea was a man, but... have you bewitched not only women, but men too? What a thoroughly troublesome pair, the two of you siblings."
He seemed to bear a considerable grudge, for the King of Fonbeau was treating the speaker with palpable coldness. Just then, a soft, quiet laugh drifted over.
Hearing that voice, the speaker looked to the side of the throne — to the spot where a curtain had been set up. The one peeking out slightly was a slender woman with pink hair. She looked fiercer than before, yet somehow there was a shadow hanging over her.
The atmosphere in the room settled abruptly, and His Majesty gave an affected cough. The Queen, too, appeared somewhat tense.
"...We had already been considering the matter of cooperation. The way Banseim has treated us is unforgivable. The finer details can be discussed later."
His Majesty, who until now had been needling the speaker with one jab after another, suddenly became cooperative. Domestically, discussions must have already been underway regarding the need to not leave Banseim unchecked. But why this sudden, complete change of attitude?
From within the Jewel, Mireia's voice could be heard.
"Lyle, here comes the main event. This atmosphere reminds me of the old days. It's vague, but I definitely remember. You could say we were being manipulated from behind the scenes. Now, the real performance begins."
—I swallowed hard. But the Seventh Generation let out a breath as if scoffing and retorted to Mireia.
"Just like how they were controlling things from behind, I understa—"
Before the Seventh Generation could finish speaking, they were shot through once again today inside the Jewel. Listening to the sound of the discharge, I thought about the woman I had caught a glimpse of—[Rianne Fanbayu].
Leaving the audience chamber, the room I was led to was not the kind of place for meetings or discussions.
No, it was a place for discussion, but it was unsuited for important talks.
Chairs were placed facing each other around a round table. Several kinds of sweets were prepared on the table, and there was no sign of anyone else around.
After the man who guided me left the room, I was left alone in there.
"Something feels a little off."
As I muttered that, I sensed a presence at the back of the room. I felt a presence behind the curtain, but until now, not even my Skills had detected anyone there.
"You have poor taste, Lady Rianne."
When I correctly guessed the name of the person who had been hiding, the one who revealed herself from behind the curtain was a woman with pink hair and an even stronger aura than before. While she previously gave a strong impression of sorrow, now it was more than just the aura of royalty. She possessed an atmosphere that intimidated the other party.
"Oh my? That's the first time I've been noticed so quickly. It's been quite some time, hasn't it, Mr. Lyle Walt?"
Chuckling, Lady Rianne approached the table and sat down in one of the chairs herself. In a room without waiters or servants, she poured tea from the prepared pot.
It did not look like the behavior of a princess at all.
"Well, you've certainly become..."
Lady Rianne gestured for me to sit, then leaned back in her chair and gazed up at the ceiling.
"I know what you want to say. But you see, I do everything myself now. I had an older brother who feared me so much he resorted to assassination. So, I prepare my own tea and meals."
The Fifth Generation was shocked.
'If the ingredients were poisoned, that would defeat the purpose entirely.'
"If the ingredients—"
Before I could finish, Lady Rianne explained while sipping her tea.
"I go buy them myself. I have a convenient Skill. It's called [Trick], but the advanced version of that is [Magic] with [Magician]... Very handy. There are plenty of restrictions, but sneaking out of the castle to do some shopping is easy enough."
A Skill that easily slips past the castle's security—this was apparently the same Skill Albano had.
Albano had said it could only manage things on the level of a prank. And the same was true of Lady Rianne before me. The last time we met, she had pulled a little trick, destroying the handle of a cup.
"...May I ask why you're feared?"
Lady Rianne unlaced her elbows on the table, rested her chin in her palms, and tilted her head slightly as she smiled at me.
"It's simple. There were brothers and sisters who would show up calling me a worthless daughter who'd come crawling back. Our parents treated me coldly too, so I played a few little pranks on them. After that, they wasted away day by day, and in the end, they came to apologize. But one of my brothers sent an assassin after me. Since that was rather frightening, I had him live far away and out of sight. He should be living a quiet life in the countryside now."
It seemed she had exiled her own brother to the hinterlands.
Lady Rianne, giggling softly, no longer seemed like the lovely little princess she once was.
But that didn't really matter. I was already surrounded by people far scarier than this, so something of this caliber didn't faze me at all.
The Third Generation, however, was groaning.
"She's heavy. This girl is really heavy. Even if we bring her in, whether Lyle can endure it... Yes, he can! He'll barely make it!"
The Fifth Generation was tearing apart the Third Generation's opinion with full force.
"No good. This one's dangerous. How dangerous? Well, let's just say dangerous enough to rival the Sixth Generation's wife. Lyle's stomach will absolutely be wrecked, so you should call it off!"
The Seventh Generation offered a rather laid-back opinion.
"Mother was certainly frightening, I'll admit. But her bloodline stands alongside Ludmilla's. There's nothing lacking in terms of lineage, and I don't see any problem with it—do you?"
Lady Mireia spoke up cheerfully.
"Brode's opinions really are useless, aren't they? But the Sixth Generation's wife, huh... She was a real tough one. Well, I never had any direct confrontation with her, though."
Speaking of the Sixth Generation's wife, she was a woman who had been confessed to and then married into the family. The sight of her, with eyes devoid of any light, hurling nearby objects at the Sixth Generation with a terrifying expression, was truly frightening.
If someone on par with that great-grandmother-level terror existed, wouldn't that be rather dangerous?
Lady Rianne was smiling at me.
"I've heard of your reputation. You were quite active in Baim, weren't you? I also heard that you were involved in the Cartafus incident, and it seems that was true as well. Do you really intend to fight Ceres?"
When Lady Rianne's expression turned serious, I nodded. I had no intention of giving a vague answer here.
"I will fight her. And of course, I intend to win. That's exactly what I've been preparing for."
"And one of those preparations is my country? Indeed, we do need to secure the western part of Banseim. To the north lies Cartafus, to the south are the nations centered around Janpear... What do you plan to do about the eastern region?"
I straightened my posture.
"I'll handle the eastern front myself."
Rianne simply replied, "I see," upon hearing that.
"The atmosphere in the audience hall—it felt as though you were the one in command, Lady Rianne."
My words made Lady Rianne laugh.
"You can call me Rianne. We're fellow avengers, after all. You see, I'm counting on you. To get revenge on Rufus, who abandoned me someday—and on Ceres—I'll manipulate even Fonbeau from the shadows. If there's anything you need for that, just say the word. I'll prepare it all for you. No matter what the cost."
Lady Rianne—no, Rianne's eyes were dead serious. And what struck me was that the first name she mentioned as a target for revenge was not Ceres, the one who had stolen her fiancé, but her fiancé himself—Rufus, the Crown Prince of Banseim.
However, I couldn't help but see the Fifth Generation's silhouette overlapping with this revenge-burning Rianne. The Fifth Generation had probably noticed it too.
*"Lyle, this woman is serious. She genuinely intends to get revenge on Banseim—no, on the Crown Prince and Ceres. No matter what she has to sacrifice... even if it means sacrificing herself. Stop her. There's still time."*
Hearing the Fifth Generation's opinion, I gripped the Jewel tightly and nodded in agreement.
"You would sacrifice everything?"
Rianne's eyes were absolutely serious.
"If sacrificing everything is what it takes, then I'll do it. All I have left now is revenge. You understand this feeling, don't you? You want to get your revenge on Ceres, don't you? You'd love to see her tortured and begging for mercy, wouldn't you? That's what I want to see. I'll leave Ceres to you. But don't you dare give up Rufus to me. I'm going to take months and slowly, agonizingly kill him. I've studied all sorts of things for that purpose. If you'd like, I can teach you some interesting forms of torture—"
I said to Rianne.
"I'm sorry, but I have no intention of seeking revenge. I'm not thinking of torturing Ceres."
When I said that, the Jewel seemed to grow just slightly warmer.
However, Rianne's eyes were the eyes of someone who rejected me — eyes that looked at me with exasperation and disbelief. In any case, they were eyes that denied everything about me.
"…Do you think anyone around you will accept that? I'd say the whole continent has already been dragged into House Walt's internal affairs. Next time, it'll be the blades of those who can't accept you that come for your head."
Still, what I was aiming for was not revenge against Ceres.
It was time to end things. Not just Ceres. Not just Agrissa or Septem, either.
"I'm sorry, but I'm fighting to save people. I won't say I'm protecting my family's lives — I've already done that much, and I don't believe saving them is possible anymore. But what we need is what lies beyond that — the future. I'm different from you, who wants everything to end with revenge."
I watched Rianne's eyes fill with anger. But she was not the kind of Rianne who would lash out at me.
"So, I was the only one who thought we were on the same page. Fine. The condition for my cooperation is that you hand over Rufus's person. If you're not interested in Ceres, will you give him to me? Then Fonbeau will cooperate. We'll even accept your imperial vision. It's all the same to me."
That, however, was a problem for me.
"That won't do. I need Fonbeau to have the strength to hold down the surrounding territories. In their current state, they lack power. I want Fonbeau to have the capacity to unite the western front."
Rianne didn't look the least bit interested.
"You'll be taking Banseim's territory, won't you? Then the bigger it is, the better, I'd say. Besides, I have no interest in any of that. How to grind those people into dust… that's the only thing that keeps me alive!"
Seeing Rianne driven to such madness, I genuinely wondered whether I could ever save her.