"Novem... I love you! I love you, and I've told you before, but I want you by my side."
How many times had I made this same resolved confession now?
I had once confessed to Novem back in Darion, but that time, she had deftly swept it under the rug. I didn't think she hated me, but still, the situation wasn't what I had envisioned.
The room where Novem was being held under house arrest.
Novem tilted her head slightly.
"What's wrong, Laiel? I'll be by your side from now on, too. Besides, I love you."
If you put it into words, my confession had surely been a success.
But the "love" Novem spoke of—
"Are you saying you love me as an individual? Put aside all that business about House Walt. No—think about it. The goddess, the evil god, the predecessors—none of that has anything to do with this. Let me hear your answer, Novem."
At my pleading request, Novem looked troubled. And then, Novem let slip words that could well have been her true feelings.
"From the moment I was born, I had a great many memories. Novem's—and the memories of all the predecessors, including the particularly gifted previous Novem. I may be an entirely different being who inherited those memories. But at this point, my own self..."
In other words—Novem had no sense of self, and the reason she loved me was because she was a being who had inherited the memories of Novem.
The story of how I had saved Novem when she was young was probably true. After all, the original Laiel would have helped her.
But to Novem, such things were trivial.
After all, Novem had chosen me over the original Laiel. She had cast aside the Laiel who had helped her, wanting me instead—the one whose memories had been taken and who lacked Septem's abilities.
"Are you really okay with that?! I... I don't want that."
Looking down as I said those words, Novem spoke to me.
"...If it's the current Laiel, then there's no need to cling to my existence. Originally, I needed to marry you to bear your children. But the current Laiel is supported by many women. If you find my presence unpleasant, there's no need to keep me by your side by force."
I looked at Novem as...
"That's not what I mean! It's not that kind of..."
For Novem, the idea of me—the direct heir of House Walt—disappearing was something she couldn't accept. That was probably due to the memories of the previous Novem.
In other words, she prioritized the survival of House Walt over me as an individual.
"Laiel-sama, I am aware that my very existence deviates from what is considered normal. That's why... please, stop fixating on it. This is an important time. Let's talk after everything is settled."
When Novem cut me off like that, my shoulders slumped.
South Baim.
In the private room of the mansion prepared there, I was gazing blankly out the window.
From the Jewel hanging around my neck, a teasing voice reached me.
*'I never thought you'd actually get rejected. She loves you, of course, but her perspective is larger than just the individual. Perhaps she was the one advocating for the harem because she didn't want to mix her own bloodline in. Just a thought.'*
I offered my strongest resistance to the Third Generation.
"I... I haven't been rejected or anything—"
*'No, you were rejected. But I think Novem-chan might be planning to leave Laiel's side once everything is over, convincing herself that her role is finished. She had that kind of air about her. She'd probably consider it her duty to oversee the peace Laiel is striving for in the future.'*
I slumped to the floor, defeated. The Third Generation, laughing at me, continued:
*'The way Novem-chan loves is by watching over, isn't it? With so many memories, her sense of self—her individuality—is fuzzy. She loves Laiel, yet she pushed for the harem so that she could leave once Laiel stood on his own two feet. But then, when Laiel decided to fight Ceres, she resolved to watch over him up to that point, right?'*
The first time I thought Novem's behavior was strange was when she treated Aria as a candidate to be my bride. She cooperated to retrieve Aria's red jewel, and it felt like she'd pushed things forward on her own. No, she definitely had.
"Do... do you think I'm hated?"
The Third Generation countered with a question.
*'No, I think she loves you. It's just that her love is a bit different from what the general public calls 'love.' Hmm, it's probably closer to a mother's love.'*
"...What should I have done? I couldn't stand it even if Novem was with another man or died."
If Novem inherited the memories and was going to watch over me and my children—my descendants—then she would likely start her own family, just like the previous Novem. In other words, it meant she would marry another man.
The Third Generation laughs.
"Laiel, if you said that to any other kid, they'd be exasperated with you. Besides, someone who built a harem doesn't get to say something like that."
"I didn't build a harem because I wanted to! Come on, at this point, just use your usual brilliant schemes or underhanded ideas like Third Generation to —"
"— What do you take me for?"
When I heard Third Generation's exasperated voice, I steadied my breathing and covered my face with both hands.
"I'm sorry. I was confused."
"Well, it's fine. But I don't think manipulating Novem with my Skills would work. Besides, my Skills have strict limitations. Illusions wouldn't be effective on her. They're not that powerful to begin with."
Third Generation's Skills were certainly underhanded. Interfering with the opponent's mind. Interfering with multiple opponents to make them fight each other. And finally, showing them illusions...
However, breaking through those wasn't that difficult. If the person was mentally strong, they could be shattered with ease. If one wasn't accustomed to handling Skills, manipulating someone with them was impossible.
"...I know that even if I manipulated her with Skills and had her stay by my side, it would be meaningless. I just want to know Novem's personal feelings."
"And if you found out she doesn't feel anything toward Laiel, would you back off?"
I felt like crying. Then, with an exasperated voice, Third Generation spoke.
"Laiel, sorry, but this is a problem you need to solve yourself. Sorry, but it's not something I can lend a hand with."
Third Generation was giving up too? What on earth was I supposed to do? Finally, Third Generation murmured.
"Well, I don't think she hates you."
With that, she fell silent.
— The meeting taking place in South Baim.
With coordination among various factions, the meeting had been going on for days.
Situational awareness, strategy confirmation, opinion adjustment — there were many things that needed to be addressed. It was a world crisis, but "just cooperate silently" wouldn't satisfy anyone.
They'd only end up thinking "if only we had acted back then" when they were on the brink of destruction. In any rate, those days continued.
Days spent in meetings from morning to evening, with regular duties waiting afterward.
Even Baldoa, considered close to Laiel, was busy moving about with security and other tasks.
However, the ones approaching Baldoa during this time were knights from House Walt.
During a break, several knights visited Baldoa's room. Baldoa knew them well, and some were even older than him.
When they said they had something to discuss, he let them in — and they came with a proposal that left even Baldoa troubled.
"...You want us to surround Lord Laiel? When you consider the situation, I can only say that would be difficult."
Two knights had come to the room. Both knew Baldoa — one was senior to him, one junior. The senior and junior were there representing the other knights, paying a visit to Baldoa.
The senior knight spoke, straightening his back.
"We understand. We won't pretend we've forgotten what we've done. If we say we were manipulated, no one will believe us. But if Lord Laiel is truly the rightful successor to House Walt, then he should keep us by his side."
The junior knight leaned forward slightly as he spoke.
"We know we're not in a position to say this forcefully. That's exactly why we're relying on you, Sir Baldoa. You're the closest person to Lord Laiel's inner circle, after all."
Baldoa crossed his arms and looked down, weighing their words.
(They're not wrong. Lord Laiel's way of fighting is House Walt's way. If he reorganized around the army that has House Walt's methods ingrained in them down to the bone, Lord Laiel would gain elite forces right away.)
However, from an emotional standpoint, he was against it.
The soldiers of Banseim felt marginalized. And the ones who had fought alongside Laiel from the very beginning were the soldiers of the Four-Nation Alliance and Baim.
And the Baim soldiers harbored resentment toward Banseim.
The senior knight continued.
"We are prepared to throw away our lives. If we don't, we'll never be able to live with ourselves. But considering the current situation, our conclusion is that we can't entrust this to anyone else."
The junior knight pleaded with Baldoa.
"I know emotions shouldn't take priority over efficiency. Time is running out. If everything goes well, we'll be invading Banseim by autumn — right after the harvest."
Six to seven months. That was the period they had to organize the army.
And organizing it didn't just mean mustering the right numbers. They needed to train those troops under a unified command until they could actually fight.
The four-nation alliance had never operated at this scale before. Even well-trained soldiers of Baim were mostly weak fighters. The difference in environment between Banseim and Baim was so vast that even Baldoa worried about how soft the soldiers' mindset would be.
"...I'll put the proposal to Lord Lyle myself. However, I can't guarantee he'll accept it."
The senior knight nodded.
"That's fine. We'll follow Lord Lyle's judgment."
Baldoa watched the two knights leave the room, then sank into his chair and gazed up at the ceiling——.
Night.
Taking a walk through the mansion to clear his head, he heard voices.
In the dark hallway, light leaked through a slightly ajar door. The voices coming from inside were Clara's and Eva's. They were raising their voices at each other in what sounded like a heated argument.
"What a rare sight. Must be some kind of quarrel."
Clara and Eva fundamentally didn't get along. Or rather, they clashed frequently. On top of that, Clara also butted heads with Adele.
From the Jewel, the Third Generation mused:
"Clara's usually quiet, but she really goes at it with people she just can't stand, doesn't she?"
Clara normally considered the party's balance and kept her opinions to herself. But when it came to topics she liked or her areas of expertise, she tended to be quite vocal.
Peeking through the gap in the door, he saw papers covered in writing fluttering through the air.
Clara had thrown a sheaf of papers right at Eva.
"Stop being ridiculous! You've written nothing but nonsense and turned it into a song — that's absolutely the worst!"
Eva, meanwhile, was gathering up the scattered papers.
"And what about you? You just write page after page of pointless details! If it's not fun to read, it's not enjoyable! No one's going to come to a performance like this!"
"The audience and all that doesn't matter! Please don't sully the historical value!"
It seemed that while talking, they had been showing each other the records they had each compiled so far.
They should have just not shown each other instead of fighting, but sure enough — they had clashed over a disagreement in opinions.
Clara was after historical value.
Eva wanted value as a song or a story.
Where Clara wrote everything in meticulous detail, Eva cut out the unnecessary parts of the story and embellished the parts that needed to be hyped up.
"Are these two actually close, by the other way around?"
*It's more of a rivalry, isn't it? They seem more endearing than enemies.*
That was when Eva noticed me peeking in.
"You've arrived at just the right time. Rael, I need you to render a verdict."
Clara turned around, adjusting the position of her glasses.
"Very well. Let's have Rael decide. Now, please come into the room. Before that… shall we gather up the materials?"
Clara and Eva swept together the papers scattered across the room.
Once I stepped inside, I was made to read through both of their materials.
"Are you kidding me?! Why do you have to write every tiny detail like this?! Besides, her being down about Novem is something that only happened recently!"
After finishing, I gave Clara my opinion. Clara pushed her glasses up with her index finger, making them glint in the light.
"I worked really hard on it."
"Then work hard on something else for once!"
Eva pointed at Clara and laughed.
"See? I told you I was the one who was right all along!"
"Explain yourself too! Why do I have a hundred wives?! There aren't that many! And besides, I'm not going to add any more!"
Eva averted her gaze.
"Y-Yeah, but... it's more surprising when you sing with fewer. Fifteen is kind of an awkward number."
"Huh? Fifteen?"
I counted on my fingers.
"Novem, Aria, Miranda, Shannon, Clara, Monica, Eva, May, Gracia, Eliza, Vera, Ludmilla, Lianne... that's thirteen, isn't it?"
Eva shook her head.
"There's Selma and Aura too, you know. And besides, the number's going to keep growing anyway. Fifteen honestly doesn't sound like much — even a regular rich man wouldn't bat an eye at that many concubines. But when you hear a nice round number like a hundred, you go 'wow!!' right?"
I was surprised that those two were being counted among them, but I cried out from the depths of my soul.
"You've gotta be kidding me! I'm never going to accept that! Besides, what would I even do with that many?!"
The Third Generation laughed.
*'That's actually pretty normal when it comes to inflated numbers. Besides, Lyle went around spreading all sorts of exaggerated stories everywhere too. Just give up.'*
There was no way I could accept that. I buried my face in both hands.
"There's already drama going on with Novem, so why does the keep growing..."
And so, I was comforted by Clara and Eva.