— The estate used by the Fonbeau royal family.
In the room they had been given, Novem was watching over Lyle's side.
Lyle was asleep, the healing magic having already erased his wounds.
However, whether from exhaustion or a lack of mana, he still had not woken up.
Beside Lyle, Monica had entered Sleep Mode to conserve mana consumption. Standing there asleep, she had been reluctant to let Novem tend to Lyle.
But the truth was that no one else could use healing magic as well as Novem, and Monica was powered by Lyle's mana.
Since she was in no condition to provide care herself, she was prioritizing Lyle's recovery.
Clara entered the room.
"I've collected the luggage from the inn. According to Miranda, it seems we're being watched."
Aria and Eva were also resting, as they were both injured.
Novem turned a smile toward Clara.
"Is that so? Thank you very much. Clara, you should get some rest too."
Clara was watching Novem.
Rather than suspicious, she looked worried.
"You've been tending to him continuously since yesterday, haven't you? You need to rest too, Novem."
Novem shook her head and looked at Lyle.
"I don't know when Lyle will wake up."
Clara glanced between Lyle and Novem in turn, then finally turned her gaze to Monica.
She still looked unable to believe what she had heard about the battle with Ceres.
"When I heard that Monica and Aria had lost, and then I saw Lyle's sister, I thought it was no wonder I would lose too... Novem, you actually fought that person and won?"
Novem and Ceres had been negotiating as equals — Clara must have remembered that.
If Ceres was wary of her, didn't that mean Novem was powerful?
She must have thought so.
But the reality was different.
"No, even if I had fought, I would have lost."
Clara said, looking at Monica.
"Lyle couldn't lay a finger on her either. And even Monica couldn't wound her in the slightest. So someone like that really existed."
Novem explained to Clara.
"Long ago, Lady Ceres was an ordinary girl. A bit timid, always hiding behind Lady Lyle's shadow..."
That had been nearly seven years ago.
(When I realized what was happening, it was already too late.)
How many times had Novem wondered what might have happened if she had been able to stop it?
But because she hadn't been able to stop it, Novem had become engaged to Lyle.
(The irony. All thanks to Septem.)
House Foxes, a baronial family, had long been a house that supported House Walt.
Even when the head of House Walt two generations ago elevated House Foxes to the rank of barons, that relationship had endured.
Novem, the second daughter of House Foxes, had visited the Walt estate many times.
Even after her engagement to Lyle was decided, she had continued to set foot in the Walt household time and again.
(The previous head noticed it too, didn't he? That's why the Jewel of House Walt was passed down to Lady Lyle... In the end, Lady Lyle is the one who should inherit House Walt.)
No matter how competent Ceres might be, with that personality, she would never be able to maintain House Walt.
This was also something House Foxes, who had lived alongside House Walt, could not accept.
"...Was it Lady Ceres? I can't believe it. She even gave off a divine aura. Has she always been like that?"
Novem offered Clara a wry smile.
"How should I put it? But... the time to tell the truth may have come. I was supposed to reveal it much later."
As she spoke, Novem touched Lyle's cheek.
—Inside the Jewel.
"I'm not at fault! Because only when Lyle became the wielder did the Jewel awaken and I could understand it! When my wife had it, I could only think of it as just a 'yellow stone'!"
The Seventh Generation was desperately making excuses under the scrutinizing gazes of the four.
While Novem's story was one thing, considering what had happened with Ceres, their dissatisfaction with the Seventh Generation had only grown.
Everyone understood that it wasn't entirely the Seventh Generation's fault.
Seizing and destroying the property a wife brought into the family was normally unforgivable.
If things hadn't come to this, the Seventh Generation might instead have been the one blamed for that matter.
Even knowing the Third Generation was helpless, they still blamed the Seventh Generation.
"It would be difficult to notice that the stone Agrissa's descendant Xenoa... that stone she possessed was a Jewel like ours. But if it had been carefully preserved, they should have asked about its history."
The Seventh Generation objected.
"You want us to have noticed that it recorded not just Skills, but emotions and memories, like ours? Even if we bear some responsibility for how things turned out, such a possibility couldn't have been predicted. Besides, Xenoa would have thought it was merely something managed by the family daughter..."
The Fourth Generation summarized the information gathered so far.
"So the Seventh Generation's wife didn't know either? Then Ceres awakened it... I'm curious why Ceres had the Jewel, but let's have a more constructive conversation, shall we? We've already pressured the Seventh Generation enough."
The Seventh Generation clenched a fist and struck the round table.
"Knowing full well they'd waste time on such things... these heartless beasts!"
The Sixth Generation spoke with a difficult expression.
Everyone was listening intently.
"In conclusion, Lael's judgment was correct. If he had fled, he would have been caught. In the worst case, if he had run... Lael might have deliberately fled somewhere with fewer people to avoid dragging Novem and the others into it."
The Third Generation nodded as he listened.
"That would have meant death for him. It's not about lacking strength or anything like that. That thing is on a completely different level. Even for all of us here, at our peaks, I wonder how far we could have fought..."
Everyone present was in the appearance of someone in their early thirties.
It was the image of them in their prime.
And the Seventh Generation voiced the feelings of these successive heads of House Walt.
"There's no way. You might put up some resistance, but winning is impossible."
The Sixth Generation followed up after the Seventh Generation.
"His actions in challenging such an enemy aren't commendable, but..."
After the Sixth Generation, it was the Fourth Generation who spoke next.
"In the end, he was right, though. Well, he is lucky. Lael possesses that kind of luck."
The Fifth Generation added.
"Still, it's not enough. Lael wouldn't be able to beat Ceres."
The Third Generation also agreed.
"He wouldn't win... not as things stand now."
All of their opinions were in agreement—.
—Meanwhile, at the residence in Fonbeau, Novem was surrounded by everyone.
It was the evening of the second day since the battle with Ceres.
Whether Lyle had recovered or not, Monica was active as well.
Aria, who had been injured, was also in the room, and Miranda had brought Shannon along.
Clara hovered awkwardly in the tense atmosphere.
"...Do you have something you'd like to ask?"
It was Miranda who posed the question on behalf of everyone.
She had been wary of Novem for some time now, and this incident had apparently pushed her to confront her directly.
Miranda, who was even prepared for the party to disband, glanced once at Lyle lying on the bed.
And then—.
"I do. What I want to hear about is your relationship with that sister of Lyle's. And there's something else I've found unnatural for a while now. Why do you insist on keeping us by Lyle's side? You even encourage it, don't you? Normally, wouldn't it be the opposite?"
What Miranda found puzzling was Novem's behavior.
She understood that Novem cherished Lyle, and that Lyle felt the same way about her.
And yet, Novem was actively trying to expand Lyle's harem.
In a normal situation, she would be in a position to refuse any outside involvement.
Novem wore a troubled expression.
And then, slowly, she began to explain.
"...My family has been supporting Lyle's family for generations. That relationship has continued for over two hundred years now. Some even say we are more loyal to House Walt than to the royal family."
Miranda knew about that story as well.
House Walt was a family that had grown larger, for better or worse, over the years.
Their bonds with their retainers were rock-solid, and they were also a rare family that had maintained long-standing relationships with even baron houses, helping one another along the way.
Usually, nobles are the ones who get into disputes with their neighbors.
House Foxes, which served House Walt despite having neither blood ties nor a vested interest in doing so, was an anomaly even among nobles.
Had they wanted to, House Foxes could have seized control of House Walt numerous times.
They existed as though they had already designated House Walt as the royal family.
"I looked into it, so I understand. Besides, it was well-known, so I found out quickly. But why are you following Laiel instead of Ceres?"
Miranda kept her guard up around Novem, a short blade equipped at her waist.
(Ceres, who can't even beat Laiel, was wary of Novem... I figured she was hiding her abilities, but I didn't expect it to be this much. What's going on here?)
If she trusted her own eyes, then Novem was concealing her true strength.
But when it came to whether Novem was really on the same monstrous level as Ceres, Miranda couldn't bring herself to agree.
"...Saying 'former fiancé' probably isn't enough to satisfy you."
Novem straightened her posture, as though she intended to tell them everything.
"As you've all seen, the current Lady Ceres is abnormal. She even manages to bend those around her to her will—just like Agrissa once did."
Clara explained to the group, who still hadn't grasped the situation.
She was mainly looking at Aria.
"She was a queen over three hundred years ago, feared as a kingdom-toppling beauty and a witch. She mesmerized everyone around her with her beauty and brought down the kingdom that once stood before Banseim."
Aria averted her gaze, fidgeting.
"I-I think I may have heard something about that..."
Mirada pressed a hand to her forehead.
(She definitely hadn't heard about it before.)
Despite her exasperation, Miranda listened to Novem's explanation.
"...Lord Laiel, as well as Lady Ceres, both inherit that individual's blood."
Everyone except Monica looked shocked.
With a sigh, Monica spoke.
"They have relatives, of course. Why are you surprised? I've heard that those with the blood to use magic were precious, and those they left behind became nobles."
Aria retorted to Monica.
"Relatives of a monster like that would be exterminated! The House that survived and built a name in the frontier is House Walt!"
Novem shook her head.
"The woman the previous head took as his wife was a descendant of Agrissa. To be precise, she was the daughter of the house that led the rebellion at the time. A marquis's house."
Shannon was flapping her mouth in disbelief.
Miranda, hearing all this, truly wondered if Ceres might indeed be the reincarnation of that Agrissa.
It was because the current state of Central was that abnormal.
"Could Ceres be the reincarnation of that Agrissa? Are you trying to say it's because she's a relative?"
Novem denied that too.
"There is no connection. The issue lies with the yellow Jewel Lady Ceres possessed."
Everyone's gaze shifted to the blue Jewel placed near Laiel. Only Aria looked at her own red Jewel.
"From the moment she held that Jewel, Lady Ceres changed. I noticed this and negotiated with her. I asked her to refrain from acting against Lord Laiel."
Clara said to Novem.
"You managed to negotiate quite well, then?"
"...I think her power was still weak at the time."
(She's hiding something.)
Miranda thought that instinctively, but Novem moved on to the next topic.
"After that, I watched over Laiel-sama. And when I learned he had been cast out of House Walt, I decided to follow him right away... I also know that Laiel-sama does not desire a harem. I know he wants to escape from Banseim."
Then why—?
Miranda was about to ask, but Novem apologized to everyone.
"I know it was wrong. But if there was someone who could stop Ceres-sama... I believed that person would have to be Laiel-sama."
In other words, Novem had—
"So I began gathering women who could potentially resist Ceres-sama, prioritizing them for Laiel-sama's sake should he ever rise up. Men are too easily bewitched by the opposite sex, after all."
—she had gathered them as pieces for Laiel to use in a fight against Ceres.
Hearing that, Aria left the room.
Clara chased after Aria and also left the room.
Miranda, taking Shannon with her, left the room as well.
Novem watched them go in silence.
"Let's go, Shannon."
"But..."
Shannon was looking at Laiel, but Miranda forcibly led her out of the room.
Once outside, she could see a woman with light pink hair fleeing in a panic around the corner of the corridor, but she decided to say nothing about it—
When he opened his eyes, he was inside the Jewel.
"...Being here means I can assume I'm still alive, right?"
Around him, his ancestors were seated in chairs around a circular table. He was about to ask to understand the current situation—
"Laiel."
The Third Generation was watching me with a serious voice.
Everyone around me was dead serious, a far cry from their usual demeanor.
I gave my response.
"Yes?"
*'There are plenty of things you'd want to ask, and plenty you'd want to say, Laiel. But let us start with our conclusion.'*
Had they already consolidated everyone's opinions? I decided to listen to what my ancestors had to say.
The Third Generation declared.
*'Leave Banseim as quickly as possible. Never get involved with Ceres again. Not with House Walt either.'*
I caught my breath at those words.
The Fourth Generation, along with the Sixth and Seventh, had been telling me they wanted me to inherit the territory.
The Third and Fifth said it was entirely up to me.
And now all five of them were telling me to forget about the territory entirely—just run.
The Fourth Generation continued.
*'As far away as possible would be best. Crossing the ocean is an option too. Take whoever will follow you and live quietly. Don't worry—if you want to clear land and become a lord, we can advise you. The Third Generation is good at that sort of thing, and I'll teach you all kinds of ways to make money.'*
The Fifth Generation spoke next.
*'With less trial and error, you could build a stable foundation in ten to twenty years. Well, it depends on the location, of course—just avoid any bad spots.'*
The Sixth Generation nodded as well.
*'In some distant foreign land, rebuild House Walt from the ground up. As a man, at least give it a try.'*
Then the Seventh Generation.
*'The customs and ways of that country will surely differ, but becoming a lord again isn't impossible, is it? To build your strength, why not organize a renowned mercenary company and offer your services? With our Skills at your disposal, you'll become famous in no time. A barony by your generation isn't out of the question!'*
Prompted by the Seventh Generation's encouraging smile, the others had gotten caught up in discussing my future.
The Third Generation spoke up.
*'If you conquer around five Dungeons, you'd already be a top-tier adventurer, wouldn't you? Conquer ten, then find some stable country and get yourself a fief.'*
The Fourth Generation.
*'What about a country with a somewhat hostile relationship with its neighbors? They'd be hungry for military strength, so with Lyle, you could land a noble title under very favorable terms.'*
The Fifth Generation.
*'Endless war gets old fast. Why not somewhere that tests your talent for governance instead? As long as the scale is decent enough, we'd be able to offer advice too.'*
The Sixth Generation.
*'Places like that tend to value people who are truly one of their own, and here you'd want a country where there's at least some conflict...'*
The Seventh Generation.
*'Ideally, there'd be a modest country where we could contribute to victories with our power. If they're short-handed and lacking in administrative talent, they'd naturally start relying on you from the top. Contribute just enough to win battles, then gradually shift to making your mark through governance... With this many of us backing you, it's absolutely doable.'*
Faced with my ancestors all grinning at each other in animated discussion, I hung my head and apologized.
"I'm sorry... but I can't do that."
The room went quiet. The cheerful, lighthearted atmosphere from moments ago had vanished without a trace, and everyone was staring at me with serious expressions.
The Third Generation spoke.
*'What do you mean by that? You're not going to say you want to fight Ceres, are you?'*
"I will fight her. I'm going to fight Ceres."
I looked the Third Generation straight in the eye.
But my ancestors were clearly against it.
The Third Generation began trying to persuade me.
"Lyle was expelled from House Walt. Rather, you could call this fortunate. Besides, if we follow the thread of this conversation, next time it won't just be House Walt you're facing. The nation... Banseim will be your opponent."
The Fourth Generation adjusted his glasses with his index finger. As the lenses caught the light, he laid out my situation.
"Even if you can use more Skills than most, you lack manpower, Lyle. And we're talking on a national scale. Novem, Aria, Miranda, Shannon, Clara, Monica... do you really think you can defeat Banseim with just those people? An individual or a small group cannot defeat a nation."
I shook my head.
"I can't win. I believe I understand that."
The Fifth Generation spoke.
"Lyle, what you're describing isn't fighting. It's plain suicide. You want revenge because Ceres trampled on something precious to you? Let me be blunt — your choice is wrong. Everyone will laugh and call you a fool!"
I shook my head again regardless.
"Even so, I will fight Ceres. I've realized that if things stay as they are, Ceres won't stop. Thousands, tens of thousands, maybe even millions of people will die."
The Sixth Generation corrected my assessment.
"No. We're talking tens of millions. That creature is capable of that. And Ceres has the time. That many casualties are entirely possible."
I looked up upon hearing that.
I had never seen the ceiling inside the Jewel before.
The ceiling was like the round table — a large blue circular stone was embedded in the center. The ceiling was high, and around it, twenty-three smaller blue gemstones were arranged in a ring.
That must be the number of Skills.
The section with only two must represent my Skills.
"I do feel the desire for revenge against Ceres, and I do want to be acknowledged by my parents. But more than that... if this is left unchecked, countless lives will be at the mercy of that monster's whims..."
The Seventh Generation cut through my reasoning with unusual coldness.
"Don't kid yourself. Scale is the only thing that changes — wars would happen even without Ceres, and in fact, they're already happening somewhere. Atrocities are occurring everywhere. Whether Ceres causes them or not, the only difference is the scale."
The Fourth Generation looked at me as if exasperated.
"High-minded ideals are all well and good. But save the talk for after you've grown strong enough to protect the people who matter around you. You can use Skills and you're a little more capable than the average person — that's all. Can Lyle, who needs Novem and the others to protect him, really protect anyone else?"
I heard every last one of their words, yet I still felt that I had to find a way to deal with Ceres on my own. That's what I thought.
I understood — I really did — the kind of thinking that comes from a child who can't see reality for what it is.
And yet —
"If I run away from this, House Walt will be remembered as villains for all eternity."
The Third Generation scoffed.
"So what? That's fine by us. Did we ever ask you to stop Ceres? To put it bluntly, as long as Lyle survives, the bloodline continues. That's more than enough."
"Everything we've built up... it'll all be for nothing!"
The Fourth Generation spoke, flat and detached.
"You're too hung up on the past. So what? Start from scratch. The First Generation wasn't hung up on anything, was she? You have to live in the present, not the past. The present matters more than the future."
"Just let it all happen, is that it? Watch people who've done nothing wrong get killed by Ceres from now on, and just go on living happily? I'm not thick-skinned enough for that!"
The Fifth Generation spoke.
"How self-righteous. Who told you to take on that responsibility? Responsibility is something the one with the right carries. In other words... the current head of House Walt and the King of Banseim should bear it — you have no right to shoulder it yourself. Have you ever heard the word 'presumption'?"
"It was you — all of you — who wanted me to inherit the territory. Are you going to change direction on me now?"
The Sixth Generation glared at me.
"That's right. That thing is far too dangerous. It's the correct judgment, isn't it? Every person in this room concluded that Lyle cannot win."
"...Correct judgment? What's so correct about it? Are my thoughts wrong? Is trying to stop Ceres really that terrible?"
The Seventh Generation spoke to me as I nearly shouted.
"Correct — so correct it makes me sick. Very well, do as you please. We will offer no further advice or cooperation. We're not kind-hearted enough to humor someone who's eager to die."
The successive heads who had lived and led as lords had each, in their own way, protected and developed the territory.
She surely understands better than someone like me that you can't survive on ideals alone.
"…I'm ignorant about the world."
The Third Generation nods.
"That's right. And on top of that, you're an idiot."
"I couldn't even beat Ceres."
"I question whether anyone truly can."
"If Novem hadn't been there, I never would have made it this far."
"That Novem of yours was apparently scheming all sorts of things behind the scenes, you know? Do you still believe in her? Maybe she had a connection with Ceres. No, for all we know, right now she could be happily reporting your latest movements to Ceres."
"…Shut up."
"What was that? What exactly did you just say to us?"
That low, threatening voice carried a simmering rage—like the one the carefree Third Generation had radiated when he punched the king into next week.
I felt cold sweat trickle down my spine, but—
[Don't you dare lose.]
[Hang in there.]
—the words of the First and Second Generations came flooding back.
(So what if I lack Skills? So what if I'm weak? I already know that! But if I don't stand up here, am I going to spend my whole life cowering in Ceres's shadow? Those people believed in me—are they telling me to live like that? Like hell I will!)
"…Don't mess with me."
"Hmm?"
The Third Generation and the successive heads standing around us shot me stares that made my whole body tremble.
These were warriors far fiercer than me—people who had waded through hell itself and made the hard calls.
Fifteen years old—some punk like me, who'd barely turn sixteen soon, must've seemed like nothing more than an ignorant kid to the Successive Heads.
I knew that.
I knew it, but.
"I told you to cut it out! Like I care! You won't lend a hand? Won't offer advice? Won't help with Skills? Fine, do whatever you want! The First and Second Generation's Skills are already mine! My own applied Skill, Connection, has awakened too! You won't help? Then fine! I'll decide, and I'll carry it out! Watch from inside the Jewel—I'll see this through no matter what... I don't care if you oppose me or reject me. My mind is made up. I'm going to fight Ceres!"
Hearing my words, the Third Generation scratched his head.
The Fourth Generation took off his glasses and began polishing the lenses.
The Fifth Generation stared at the ceiling, one hand pressed to his forehead.
The Sixth Generation let out a deep sigh.
The Seventh Generation pressed a finger against the corner of his eye.
Standing as everyone's representative, the Third Generation rose to his feet and applauded.
"Passing grade. That said, from here on out, everything you do is on your shoulders, Raier. We'll still offer advice, of course. And we'll cooperate more than before."
"...What do you mean?"
The Fourth Generation, having put his glasses back on, explained calmly.
"Don't get so worked up. We were just testing you a little. Besides, it's not like we don't have our own worries. None of us have any experience fighting a nation. And right now, Banseim is a major power."
The Third Generation smiled at me.
"From here on, we're entering territory none of us has ever experienced. On one side, the enemy is the Kingdom of Banseim—which we made nice and big through House Walt. On the other, Raier has a handful of money and fewer than ten companions. Even if we do everything by the book, it'd take decades just to build up the strength to fight."
The Fifth Generation spoke.
"We don't have that kind of time. Honestly... even after dying, the headaches just keep piling one on top of another. But that's fine. You're a man of House Walt too."
The Sixth Generation grinned.
"That's right! Raier, you'll be fighting a war that none of the Successive Heads ever experienced. This is going to be fun! The enemy is powerful, Ceres is a monster... just taking them on is going to be hell!"
The Seventh Generation had tears glistening in his eyes.
"I shall lend my strength as well. If anyone can stop Ceres, it's surely you. Don't hand this off to someone else. House Walt... no, stop Ceres with your own hands."
As I stood there gaping, the Successive Heads rose to their feet.
Looking at me, the Third Generation spread both arms wide.
"Now, let us begin our—no, Raier's battle. Not House Walt's, not ours. The time has come to start your own story."