I was thrown out of my home two years ago in spring.
It was that season where winter ends and you can't help but feel a sense of new possibility.
As that season arrived, I was staring at the mountain of paperwork piled up in my office. I placed both hands on the desk and looked at my ink-stained fingers, muttering to myself.
"...No, this isn't what I imagined my counteroffensive preparations would look like."
From the Jewel being used as a paperweight so the documents wouldn't fly away, I heard the cheerful voice of the Third Generation.
'What a fool you are, Lyle. It's only natural that as the Alliance Leader, you'd have a great deal of administrative work. Delegating field operations to your subordinates is exactly what you should be doing.'
It was sound reasoning, but I had pictured myself more as the one giving directions out on the front lines. Reality, however, had me cooped up in my office, surrounded by guards and drowning in paperwork.
Even when I did get the chance to go outside, it was mostly for speeches or meetings, which was genuinely exhausting. In the room with me today was my assigned attendant, Valkyrie No. 3, who looked exceptionally pleased.
"Master, I have prepared your tea."
"How many cups do you intend to make starting from the morning? My stomach's already sloshing around."
It seemed No. 3 had learned—or rather, figured out—how to brew tea, and now she kept repeating the process over and over to show off to me.
Because of that, I'd been drinking far too much tea since morning.
It had been several months since the battle with House Walt.
Preparations for the fight against Ceres were well underway. It would be a battle on a continental scale, but even during the era of the Centra Kingdom that preceded Baim's dominance over the continent, a conflict of this magnitude would have been rare.
Truly, it had been over three hundred years since a war of such scale was about to begin.
Among the documents were reports compiled by Monica, gathered from the Valkyries stationed in various regions.
Picking up the summarized report, I found it remarkably easy to understand, complete with illustrations. There were even charts, allowing me to grasp the current situation at a glance.
"Fonbeau's side has finally finished integrating. There's a nation sitting on the fence? That's surprising."
For a conflict of this scale—with armies numbering in the hundreds of thousands on each side—it was shocking that any country would choose to wait and see. At that moment, the Third Generation began to explain the mindset behind that decision to me.
"Lyriel, the world is a thing where people can only measure it by their own world — by their own common sense. At this scale of warfare, it wouldn't be strange for countries to appear that can't even form a judgment beyond their imagination. Maybe they're fighting amongst themselves internally."
I looked at the report and addressed the Third Generation.
"...Should we factor that in and plan accordingly for the postwar period?"
However, the Third Generation was cold and detached.
"That won't be necessary. If someone swoops in afterward and takes only the choicest parts, countries that aren't satisfied will emerge. We need to redirect that dissatisfaction outward."
When we spoke of unifying the continent, it wouldn't be enough to simply defeat Ceres and topple Banseim. True success would only come once governance was established. After that, one would have to desperately maintain it.
"Well, Kartavus is already prepared, and Janpea is on board, so the problem lies with us in the east."
Even so, the forces under my command had absorbed House Walt's army, so our numbers were sufficient. I believed we'd assembled a force befitting our role as the alliance leader without embarrassment. If there was a problem, it would be Baim being unreliable.
Given more time, we could have gathered far more troops, but the timing for the invasion remained unclear. No — we could invade at any time, but—
I picked up a different report.
"...Could it be, she's deliberately depleting her own fighting strength?"
What Ceres had carried out in Banseim was the construction of a tomb for our father. However, father was a member of House Walt and a baron. Yet she had gathered workers to build him a grander tomb than the king's, and even in this busy season, she had collected not only men but women as well, having them construct a massive mausoleum.
"What in the world is she doing?"
It was enough to leave one speechless, but the Third Generation spoke from the Jewel regarding Ceres's actions.
"Much like Agrissa, she probably wants to turn the continent into a sea of blood. Honestly, I don't think our common sense applies to her. Well, it is certainly unsettling."
I had expected her to take some kind of action in response to father's death, but nothing of the sort happened. No armies were dispatched, and no assassins were sent from Banseim. The most suspicious incident recently, though, was the desecration of father's grave.
It didn't fit the profile of common grave robbers, and I had wondered if it might be the work of an ally harboring a grudge, but that wasn't the case. The remains had been carefully reinterred.
However, since a portion of the body had been taken, it was judged to be the doing of Banseim's side.
Their fixation on taking only a part was likely to ensure they could carry it back securely. Still, something about it nagged at me.
"It's unsettling, isn't it? Well, it's been unsettling from the very start, though."
As I was about to get back to work, Number Three spoke to me.
"Master, your meeting time is approaching."
"...Meeting with whom? If it's Damian pressing again, tell him to take it up with Adele."
Number Three shook his head.
"No, it appears Marianne, who has become the Guild Master of South Baim, is coming for a meeting. She says she has opinions regarding the management of Magic Stones."
At the name Marianne, I stood up. In order to bring the Guild under the nation's management, a great deal of rule-making had been necessary.
I had commissioned the drafting of those rules, and sure enough, Marianne and the Guild's associates were coming to voice their complaints.
If they were merely desperately resisting the revocation of their privileges, it would be possible to crush them. However, there were many things the Guild genuinely found problematic when it came to management. They were bringing those concerns straight to me.
"Adele isn't good at this sort of thing, you know. Lianne doesn't know the first thing about adventurers, so it'll end up falling to Lail."
Just as the Third Generation had said. Moreover, it was a problem I couldn't afford to half-ass. Regardless, I needed to hear them out in order to strip the Guild of its privileges and ensure smooth operation.
"Man, this is going to be a headache."
— Meanwhile, in the Banseim royal palace, a portion of Maisel's body was delivered to Ceres's room.
Ceres embraced what lay inside the box, tears welling in her eyes.
"Welcome home, Father."
With those words, she opened the box and tightened her grip on the staff with its embedded Jewel. When the yellow Jewel emitted its light, the pre-prepared corpse began to stir.
The box floated into the air, and the corpse was absorbed into it, gradually taking on a human form.
"...Ceres, I'm home."
There stood Maisel, wearing a smile. Also present in the room was Claire, his mother.
"You—how utterly pathetic. And you still call yourself the head of House Walt?!"
Facing Claire's fury, Maisel looked thoroughly apologetic.
"I-I'm sorry. I was planning it as a souvenir for Ceres..."
"Oh my, you're terribly late, Father. Let's throw a big party today!"
Ceres, who had told them not to worry about any souvenirs, was jumping for joy while clutching both her parents' hands.
Agrissa watched this scene from inside the Jewel, seated in an opulent chair. Within the Jewel — which served as something of a throne — she sat with her legs crossed, looking down on everything with an air of superiority.
She twirled a strand of her golden hair around her fingertip, watching the outside through violet eyes.
"...Poor, sweet Ceres. Even if she's been revived, she's nothing more than a vessel. No, not even a complete vessel at that."
Although Agrissa had perfected the skill known as Resurrection of the Dead, she regarded her handiwork with a look of dissatisfaction.
"If it had succeeded, I could have brought my parents back. And the children too. I don't care about the rest... no, House Walt. I'll revive that man who defeated me as well. He was good. A truly great man."
Agrissa smiled as she watched Ceres, flanked by her puppets and looking delighted. But her expression quickly clouded over. When the view of the outside from within the Jewel vanished, she stood up and gazed at the door behind her seat.
"...I can't even revive a single person, and I'm supposed to be a goddess? Well, if I could, I probably wouldn't be worshipped as one by now."
Agrissa was a being born by inheriting the memories of Septem — what would now be called Novem, and Ceres. However, the memories she had inherited were only the negative ones: the memories of the successive Septems who had devoted themselves to humanity.
Her memories as a goddess were vague, but she had a sense of what had happened. Yet what lingered most vividly were the memories of being exploited and sometimes oppressed by the very humanity to whom everything had been given.
She traced a fingertip along her lips, then leaned back against the chair's backrest.
"Well then... the continent will be drenched in blood whether I say anything or not. Millions of humans will die. How delightful. I'm simply beside myself with excitement."
Agrissa walked off and entered the Memory Room. Inside, she found the figures of the Septems who had been oppressed.
Not dressed in flashy, exhibitionist gowns like Agrissa's, but in plain, tattered clothes, the Septems looked gentle. Those Septems stared at Agrissa with accusing gazes.
In that Memory Room, Agrissa scoffed.
"Just keep watching from there, predecessors. The duty you could never fulfill — protecting those precious humans — I'll carry it out for you. Of course, not by giving them everything as you did... but by taking everything away from them instead."
The silent gazes of the Septems had turned severe. Bound by the curse of their inherited memories, these beings called Septem had given everything to humanity unconditionally.
Agrissa taunted those Septems.
"Don't be angry. But you know, I'm doing more for humanity than any of you. Humans kill each other because there are too many of them. That's why I've been thinning them out. It's painful, you know. Killing humans I hold dear... it truly is painful."
Agrissa burst into laughter, her bewitchingly beautiful features twisting as she grinned with amusement.
And then she spoke.
"The conclusion Novem and I reached despite our opposing views — does it sting you that they're the same? Yeah, I figured... After all, she hates humans too. You can't accept that, can you?"
The Septems began directing pitying gazes at Agrissa. Despising those stares, Agrissa swept her left hand and made the Septems vanish.
"I'm getting irritated. I've grown tired of teasing you all."
With that, Agrissa looked upward.
"Now then, Ceres... the promised time must surely be drawing near. Until then, enjoy yourselves as much as you can."
Agrissa's laughter echoed throughout the memory chamber —.
Evening.
The one who burst into the room with furious intensity was Novem.
I was so startled I leapt from my seat, nearly stumbling backward. She was genuinely, seriously angry — unlike anything I'd ever seen from her. Not the kind of anger you'd direct at a misbehaving child, but real, seething anger.
Had I done something wrong?
"W-what's going on, Novem?"
My voice trembled as I spoke, and Novem caught her breath before straightening her posture in front of me.
"My apologies. But there's something I absolutely must confirm immediately, and I was in a rush. You see, Lord Laiel..."
Facing the intimidating Novem, so unlike her usual self, my voice nearly cracked. The Jewel hanging around my neck — even the Third Generation was in a state of panic.
"What did you do, Laiel? I've never seen Novem-chan angry at you like this before."
I was just as bewildered. There were probably plenty of reasons I could be getting scolded, but I didn't think any of them warranted this level of fury.
"Wh-what is it?!"
"So you spoke with Lord Baldoa. Is it true that you desire peace and want to make it your goal?"
I tilted my head when I heard that.
"Oh, that? Yeah, I did say something like that. But I'm not seriously planning for peace anytime soon, and I haven't even settled on what peace would really look like. I just figured it'd be nice if it could be achieved a few hundred or a few thousand years down the line."
I understood how difficult it was, but I still thought it was wrong not to take that first step. I'd said it in a moment of high spirits, but I wasn't about to take it back either.
But Novem looked deeply troubled.
"So... you're not just speaking foolish words that come with maturity?"
When I'd told Baldoa, I was in what the Third Generation called "Lael mode." But that didn't mean it contradicted what I actually believed.
"Yeah, and so what about it?"
Novem was speaking to me with an intensity I'd never seen from her before.
"Lael, peace is an illusion. And worse, it's a poison that inflicts harm on people. A world where you must fight to survive is what makes humans strong. The moment you stop fighting, people begin to decay instantly."
"What's gotten into you? This isn't like you."
When I said that and smiled, Novem stepped right up to me. Then she grabbed both my shoulders. Novem's fingers dug into my shoulders, and I felt pain.
Novem's eyes seemed wide open, drained of all light.
"Not like me? No, I'm completely serious. The one being unlike himself is you, Lael. You've fought all this time—what did you feel? What happened to you when you decided to face Ceres? Have you ever even considered what would happen if peace were realized? What would be waiting then is—"
Just then, Miranda entered the room. The Valkyries were with her, heading toward Novem who had closed in on me.
"Novem, what do you think you're doing?"
In the dim room, with light streaming in through the window at her back, Miranda's eyes glowed from within the shadows. That was just as terrifying.
Novem slowly turned around, looking at her fingers still dug into my shoulders.
"I-I'm so sorry, Lael! I'll treat you right away. But I..."
Novem looked like she was about to cry, but she'd been trying to tell me something. When Miranda came into the room, she pulled Novem away from me.
"I'll handle this. Novem, get out of the room. I'll hear what you have to say once you've calmed down."
Surrounded by the Valkyries, Novem left the room. Head bowed, the words she murmured were—
"—What awaits in an age of peace is nothing but a slow death."
That's what she said.