—A room in the Eastern Branch of the Guild, Baim.
Adele Bergy stood in a tidy, spacious room, her gaze fixed on the row of desks lined up before her.
Five Valkyries had been provisioned in light gear, and alongside them were Guild staff and the mid-ranking merchants — and their subordinates — who hadn't fled.
Maxim had already marched out to fight what remained of Banseim's forces, leaving Adele with no allies of her own.
It was Monica who drove that merciless reality home to Adele.
"The allied forces' commander will now be entering the former neighboring territory that has been incorporated into eastern Banseim. With that in mind, I'll be entrusting the management of Baim to you all."
Adele looked out the window. Baim, in ruins. The residents evacuating. And on top of that, a host of smaller problems... She was about to have all of it thrust upon her.
Adele raised her hand to speak.
"What is it, Lady Adele?"
Adele bristled inwardly at Monica's deliberately affected use of "Lady Adele."
"I have a question. You're entrusting the management of Baim — in this devastated state — to us alone?"
Monica nodded, expressionless.
"Yes. Affirmative. That is exactly correct. After all, the main force will be heading into eastern Banseim — or rather, into the former neighboring territory of Rufence, since it's simpler that way. We intend to begin full-scale preparations there. Oh, don't worry. Lord Maxim will remain in Baim."
She understood that Laiel and his forces would be entering Rufence — the territory once governed by General Broa — and preparing there to stand against Banseim.
But Adele spoke up.
"I... it feels like we don't have enough hands, though?"
Monica smiled brightly.
"No one has enough hands anywhere. Well, we've gathered cooperative personnel, so the rest is up to you. I have high expectations for your administrative skills, Lady Adele."
Adele ruffled her hair in frustration at Monica, who beamed at her with a cheerful thumbs-up.
"At-at least leave Lady Lianne and Lady Novem behind! There's no way I can manage Baim by myself!"
Monica shook her head with a smile. Then her expression turned blank once more, and—
"Maintain the status quo. Treat reconstruction and dungeon management as your minimum objectives. Going forward, Baim will be split into South Baim and North Baim—two separate territories. I'll also be seizing a significant portion of the Guild's rights, so do your best as Acting Alliance Leader."
Seizing the Guild's rights. That was a critical matter for Lyle. Beyond that, splitting Baim into north and south served a dual purpose: weakening the merchants' power while stoking rivalry between the two halves to further erode their influence.
The desolate North Baim. The small but flourishing South Baim.
The birth of two Baims.
Though for Adele, it felt like having a mountain of busy work thrust upon her.
"...Is there any way to refuse?"
Monica's expression remained blank.
"You think you can? Don't worry—not everyone will be relocating to Lufens right away. There's still plenty of work to do, like integrating prisoners into the ranks. However, Lady Lianne has already moved to Lufens."
Though not the same type as Adele, Lianne was more of a desk-work specialist. She had the ability to manage South Baim in Lyle's absence.
But if even Lianne had already moved to Lufens, there was no one left but Adele.
Borrowing personnel from the Four Nations Alliance wasn't an option. Zayin and Rolfis had grown busier with expanded territories, and Galleria and Rusworth had always been short on domestic policy talent. Cartas and Janpear were difficult to reach as well, and now the rear-guard was beginning to suffer from a serious personnel shortage of its own.
Adele lowered her head and uttered a single sentence—.
"I'll hold a grudge against you... Lyle."
—The place where the Trace family's estate had once stood was now in ruins.
Whether some noble had been using it, the furnishings had been looted and signs of battle still lingered. When Vera and Fidel stepped inside, they found themselves surrounded by subordinates who had followed them all the way from South Baim.
"...Sir Fidel, the place is nothing but scorched rubble. This estate is beyond saving."
When one of the subordinates murmured in disappointment, Fidel simply said "I see" and gazed at the estate with nostalgia. Vera could do nothing but watch her father.
Just then, they heard a knock on the estate's broken door, and everyone turned around. Standing there was a Valkyrie with black hair and red eyes—dressed in a maid's uniform.
Behind them stood a haggard-looking Gina and Roland — the former subordinates who had driven them out — heads bowed in silence.
"Gina..."
When Vera called her name, Gina raised her head.
"It's all gone. Everything. Our ship got caught up in the capsizing... The subordinates betrayed us and sailed off with it. Go ahead and laugh if you want! That's why you were looking for us, wasn't it!"
"Gina, stop!"
Roland restrained Gina as Fidel watched the two of them. Behind them, the other subordinates couldn't bring themselves to meet Fidel's gaze. Perhaps they were ashamed.
Vera spoke to Gina and the others.
"...I wanted to see you again, if you were alive. I'm glad you're safe."
Ryael's intentions — and the situation surrounding Baim, along with Banseim's declaration of war. Vera had feared that Gina and the others might be dead. So she felt a wave of relief knowing they were alive.
And Fidel felt the same way. But Fidel said:
"How pathetic. When I think that I was thrown out by the likes of you, I almost pity myself."
Gina and Roland flinched, their bodies trembling. Time passed in silence for a while before Gina spoke, her gaze lowered.
"...We'll accept whatever punishment you give us. But the people who served us loyally — please take them in at South Baim. I'm begging you, Father."
Fidel's response to his daughter's bowed head was cold.
"Throw me out and now you want me to take you in? Your credibility is zero. You betrayed me once and now you want to serve me again..."
Vera watched Fidel's attitude and looked away. In truth, she wanted to help. But Vera and the others had only just started their business in South Baim — taking on more people was beyond their means.
At the same time, in South Baim, the memory of being driven out by Baim had given rise to a deep-seated rivalry.
Accepting merchants cast out by Baim was simply impossible for South Baim right now.
"Several ships from major Baim merchants who abandoned Baim have come to South Baim, but every single one was turned away. That is South Baim's answer. Do you understand? South Baim will not accept you. That is the reality."
Fidel began to walk, and everyone followed behind him. Vera stopped beside Gina and Roland. Fidel did the same.
But the subordinates pressed onward.
Fidel—
"...I owe that boy quite a debt. I managed to negotiate permission for you to conduct business in North Baim. I even got him to arrange a decent sum of money. The ships that were seized are being held in South Baim. Use them for transporting supplies—pick them up at the port in three days. That's the best I can do right now. Roland, take care of Gina."
With those words, he began to walk away. He had wanted to help them, truly, but the circumstances surrounding him and the current feelings of his subordinates made it impossible. What's more, the merchants who represented the hostile Baim had already been slated to be crushed for Laiel's plan.
Gina raised her head.
"...Father."
Vera began walking as well.
"You've pushed yourself hard enough as it is. From here on out, you'll have to manage on your own."
Using up every last favor he had accumulated from Laiel over the years, Fidel secured permission for Gina and the others to do business in North Baim. That was the absolute limit of what he could do—and he had reached it.
The top floor of an inn in Baim.
Inside a lavishly furnished room, I was wrapped in a blanket. Outside the window, darkness had fallen—the day was drawing to a close. It was so dark it was hard to believe this was the same Baim that used to shine bright even at night. The stars were beautifully visible, but my mood was at its absolute lowest.
"...It's not my fault."
That was when a voice echoed from within the Jewel—the Third Generation's laughter.
"Oh my~ Another bumper crop this time! I never would have imagined you'd bring home the former Saintess right after collapsing like that."
The Seventh Generation was the same, laughing just as merrily.
"I, for one, am perfectly satisfied just hearing about Laiel's grand goal of working hard for the sake of the world. Well, perhaps Laiel-san's goal?"
These guys... they were having a ball teasing me.
Just then, a knock sounded at the door. My body flinched involuntarily, and I called out.
"Y-yes?"
"Pardon the intrusion. Laiel-sama, I've brought today's reports. Monika has a great deal to share as well, but there are also several smaller matters..."
The one who came into the room was Novem. I didn't have to worry about being teased, which put me at ease, but the thought that Novem had also seen my post-growth appearance still made me uncomfortable. I'd shown her many times already, yet each time, the number of past moments I wished to bury only grew.
"S-sorry. I wanted to be alone for a while... Ah, I'll be heading out starting tomorrow, though."
Novem smiled gently.
"That would be very helpful. After all, you are the leader of the Allied Forces, Laiel-sama. Even just having you visible makes a difference. Also, Lianne has departed for Rufens. She has escorts with her, but even if she's training soldiers on that end, it'll be minimal at best. Winter is already here, so she likely won't be able to move for some time."
I gazed out the window.
"You're right. The snow hasn't come yet, but the cold will only grow worse. We need to rebuild the surrounding villages as best we can and spread the residents out, even if only a little."
Too many people had gathered, and the rate at which supplies dwindled was staggering. Even taking back supplies from Banseim, we had fewer than expected — that was a problem too.
Novem came and sat on the edge of the bed.
"According to Lianne, she plans to gather those in Rufens who will support Laiel-sama. In the process, she'll do her best to weed out spies and the like, but she says perfection will be difficult."
"I'll handle that side of things when I get there. I've got Skills for that sort of thing."
Novem looked pleased.
"Lord Feinz's Skills, right?"
That's what she said. I was surprised she knew, but thinking about it more carefully, this was Novem. It wouldn't be strange for her to know, and House Foxes would naturally have House Walt's records on hand. There was no point worrying about it.
Just then, Novem's expression turned serious.
"Also, Lord Baldoa had a message — a marriage with the princess of Rolfis will not be permitted. He is a crucial retainer who will support Laiel-sama going forward, after all."
"...Novem, you're pretty terrible too. Isn't that basically saying the princess of Rolfis is quite awful? Well, our standing doesn't match anyway, so it was probably impossible regardless."
At this, Novem giggled. I found myself laughing along, and the two of us continued chatting.
—Inside the Jewel.
The Third Generation watched Laiel as he chatted cheerfully with Novem, looking somewhat relieved. Five silver weapons hovered in the Round Table chamber, and the silence was so absolute it made all the previous commotion seem like a lie.
"Laiel had his share of worries, but things should work out one way or another. Having awareness drawn in that direction through Laiel-san was probably a good thing, too."
The Seventh Generation nodded along.
"No matter the reason, guilt is bound to surface. When you've killed that many people, you'll naturally carry quite the burden. Well, Novem and the others are with him, so it should be fine? Though Novem herself seems a bit suspicious."
The Third Generation covered his mouth and laughed.
"That's fine, isn't it? A bit heavy, perhaps, but that's love too. Love. Well, if Laiel can truly win Novem over, there might not be a problem."
The Seventh Generation looked worried.
"If he could do that, most problems would be solved. Well, the big problem still remains, though."
The big problem — that was Ceres.
To fight Ceres, the Successive Heads had granted Laiel wisdom — and Skills. They had been preparing him to win, resolutely and with certainty.
If there was a problem, it was what would come after, even if they won the war. If Ceres managed to escape, that would be a problem.
There was no point in surrounding her with people who could be charmed. In the end, Laiel had no choice but to fight Ceres directly. They had gathered members for that purpose, but not even the Successive Heads knew what the odds of victory would be.
And there were problems they were already aware of.
"The Eastern front is already wide open. The others have large nations at their borders as well... Do you think they'll come out?"
At the Third Generation's question, the Seventh Generation nodded with a serious expression.
"They will. The military forces of House Walt, trained and hardened as they are, will certainly move. As early as right after winter passes. But it depends on the situation."
The Third Generation also placed a hand on his chin and gazed up at the ceiling.
"Even if rebellions break out within the country, as long as they're small-scale, they'll prioritize Laiel. There are Landed Nobility in Banseim who would side with Laiel as well... but having hostages in Central is troublesome."
And there was something else that concerned the Third Generation even more. He looked at the Seventh Generation.
"Well then, let me ask. Seventh Generation — no, Broade, can you stand by and watch the battle between Laiel and Maisel?"
For House Walt to move meant that Maisel — the Eighth Generation, head of House Walt — would be on the move. Or perhaps he would send a proxy, but either way, it still meant fighting the military forces of House Walt.
"For me, the era is too different. Honestly, since Baldoa has been cooperating with us, I don't have much attachment either. But what about you, Seventh Generation? The traitors might not be limited to just the Barden family."
The Seventh Generation was looking down.
"I suppose... it must be painful to watch. But if House Walt is going to fall like this, it might be better to have Laiel deliver the final blow."
The Third Generation also lowered his gaze.
"That might be the best outcome, at least from an emotional standpoint. But..."
The Seventh Generation gazed up at the ceiling as well.
"At last... we've finally come this far."
The preparations for the battle against Ceres were entering their final stage.