"...Hmm. I see."
At the Northern Alliance's stronghold.
The deepest chamber of the fortress, where a large chair sat—not luxurious, but grand—reserved for the master of this fortress.
Seated there, Archbishop Johan murmured.
"—Yes, that is precisely why! Those people are nothing short of absolute villains, Your Excellency the Archbishop!"
Before him, desperately hurling words at the Archbishop, was the Northern Earl—former Earl Asrak von Harvist.
Having been driven out by Ermes and his companions and taken under the Church's protection, he explained with every ounce of his being, employing exaggerated gestures and mannerisms, just how nefarious Ermes's group were and how he was nothing more than a pitiable victim.
"They wanted to use the Northern soldiers however they pleased—just for that reason alone! They forcibly captured and exiled me, an innocent man who had done nothing! And the Northern soldiers, who should have been reliable allies, refused to lift a single finger to help me! I've had quite enough of both sides! As long as people like them are running rampant, everyone like me—decent, law-abiding people—will be devoured, and this country will have no future. That is what I've come to realize!"
"Hmm. And so... you've decided to submit to the Northern Alliance."
"Yes! I've become utterly convinced that the Church alone can properly guide this country! I am intimately familiar with the territory where those vermin have entrenched themselves, and I am certain I can provide information of immense value!"
Harvist chattered on without even being asked. Johan watched the former Earl quietly with his copper-colored eyes, and eventually, a faint smile crossed his lips.
"...Very well. That was my intention from the start—that is why I had you protected. I shall approve your entry into the Northern Alliance."
"Really? Thank you so—"
"—However."
As Harvist, beaming with joy, was about to nod in agreement, Johan raised his index finger.
"Even if I'm satisfied, the others in the Alliance won't be convinced. So—if you're going to switch sides, you'll need to produce results commensurate with the decision."
"R-Results...?"
"Yes. Knowledge alone is still insufficient to... no, to convincingly prove 'betrayal.' In order to clearly demonstrate that you've truly turned against them, you'll need to put your body on the line for the Northern Alliance, won't you?"
—He had probably assumed that information alone would suffice.
That he could change sides without getting his hands dirty and still be welcomed. Former Earl Harvist's face broke into a cold sweat at the realization. What would they make him do...? His expression made it painfully obvious what he was thinking.
"Ah, don't worry."
Reading his inner thoughts, Johan spoke gently.
"By 'put your body on the line,' I don't mean anything particularly dangerous. I'll guarantee your safety along the route if you follow my instructions, and I'll assign capable guards as well."
"This is a mission that only you can carry out. —And precisely because of that, I promise that upon success, you'll be welcomed here with executive-level treatment. What do you say?"
At those last words, the look in Harvist's eyes changed.
Suppressing his anxiety with his hunger for glory, he forced his face into an expression brimming with confidence.
"Y-Yes! I will absolutely meet your expectations, Your Excellency the Archbishop! I humbly wish to be of service in the great endeavor of guiding this country aright through the power of the Star God!"
He had surely chosen the words most likely to please the Archbishop. With that, Harvist bowed deeply and was escorted out of the room by a Church attendant.
The door closed, leaving Johan alone.
Footsteps faded into the distance, and a brief silence confirmed that no one was nearby.
Only after confirming this did Archbishop Johan murmur—from the bottom of his heart.
"...What a fool."
The remark was directed at Harvist, who swallowed only what was convenient to hear.
At all the people in the Northern Alliance who moved as he wished.
And at the Northern soldiers, and at Ermes and his companions. It was mockery aimed at everyone participating in this rebellion—everyone but himself.
According to the information he had obtained from the Earl—or rather, confirmed—Ermes and his group had, after driving out the Earl, been attempting to "persuade" the soldiers of the Harvist territory to join their side.
Ah, what a fool. An absolute fool.
—When there was no way they could possibly succeed.
"So you don't understand, do you? Strong young mage."
The Archbishop murmured.
He did not underestimate Ermes's power. On the contrary, he had a clear grasp that Ermes possessed power rivaling the very top tier of those he had ever encountered.
—But that was all.
"You are strong. Extraordinarily strong and clever, no doubt. ...And precisely because of that, you fail to understand."
Johan understood Ermes's power, yet he did not fear Ermes.
Because—he had once encountered "an even more powerful mage."
And he had defeated that mage... with something other than brute force.
That was precisely why he could murmur with such confidence.
"That's right—you fail to understand. —Those who possess neither power nor intellect. The vast majority of this country's population—stupid, mediocre commoners—how utterly foolish they are, how incapable of independent thought, and how hopelessly prone to following the path of least resistance."
And at the same time, he thought.
—That was precisely why God's guidance was necessary.
Therefore, Ermes could not possibly persuade those Northern soldiers—no, he must not be allowed to, and Johan would see to it.
Based on that twisted yet unwavering conviction, he spoke.
"Now then, shall we begin, strong young mage? Despair at their stupidity. Be disappointed by their powerlessness. And once you've given up on this cage, abandon this country and leave. Yes—"
The man declared.
"—Just like that 'Sky Witch' once did!"
And so, Archbishop Johan von Kantabel—
the man who had once been the greatest factor in driving
Rose
from the
Royal Capital—
wore a cruel sneer, just as he had before, and set into motion his plan to deliver divine punishment upon a mage who had grown too powerful.
◆
Meanwhile, after driving out the former Earl—
Ermes and his companions, together with the soldiers of the Harvist territory, had succeeded in establishing at least a preliminary cooperative framework to stand against the Northern Alliance.
It was only natural, given that their immediate interests aligned—but from the soldiers' perspective, these were people who had suddenly appeared and placed themselves above them without any prior warning. Combined with the country's conservative tendencies, acceptance was far from easy.
But he believed there was no cause for concern.
Trust could not be built overnight. As before, he would simply make his position clear, repeatedly and consistently.
They needed fighting strength to retake the Royal Capital, and as people serving the royal family, they could not simply stand by while the country descended into chaos. To that end, they were moving to crush the Northern Alliance in order to suppress the rebellion. That was the entirety of their purpose—nothing more—and he would prove it through his actions, continuously.
Following that policy, they first focused on building trust with the soldiers, assessing their fighting capabilities, and analyzing the enemy's hand.
While preparing to counter the Northern Alliance, they continued to repel the intermittent raids on the fortress—likely intended to deny them rest—with Ermes leading the charge.
After about two days had passed in this fashion,
"...That concludes this round of raids."
"Y-Yes! Thank you very much, Lord Ermes!"
As was typical, the raid—this time from the opposite side of the entrance, through the forest—was repelled almost entirely by Ermes alone.
Catching his breath, Ermes was addressed by one of the soldiers.
"...Lord Ermes, could you please stop with the formalities? I'm technically a commoner, and I don't need any peculiar honorifics or even polite speech..."
"Th-That would be far too presumptuous! You've saved our lives, and we cannot show disrespect to someone who fights the Northern Alliance on our behalf!"
This soldier was the very captain they had rescued at the beginning, when he was fleeing from Lucius and the Northern Alliance's elite.
For that reason, he and his unit were currently the most favorable toward Ermes's group.
...He had a tendency to praise them a bit excessively, but that was still far better than being openly avoided.
Similarly, Katia and the others were working hard to defend the base, and their efforts were gradually winning the trust of more soldiers.
Time was not infinite, but for now, the priority was to continue this and unify the group from within—that was what he believed at the time.
That night.
"...So. What do you think?"
During the night watch, the hours when surveillance duty had been entrusted to Ermes and his companions.
The captains—the knight commander Toa excluded—of the Harvist territory's soldiers had gathered for a discussion.
The topic, naturally, was whether or not to trust Ermes and his group.
"I... believe they can be trusted."
The one who spoke first was the same captain who had been praising Ermes earlier that day.
"They... especially Lord Ermes, possess magical abilities of incomparable power, yet his demeanor is incredibly courteous and he never puts on airs like that Earl did. I believe that even if we fall under his command, he will treat us with respect—and I'm certain he will crush the Northern Alliance and protect this land."
"Hah, who knows."
The one who bit back was the captain who had been oppositional before.
"You only think that because you're biased—he saved your life, after all. Right now, he needs our cooperation, so he's playing nice. —Once this war is over, he'll be just like every other noble. He'll treat us like tools, you can count on it."
"That might be jumping to conclusions as well."
Yet another captain voiced his opinion.
"And aren't you the same way... because you've experienced having your family effectively killed by 'that Earl'?"
"Guh!"
"At the very least, based on my own feelings, the past two days have pushed me in the opposite direction from you.
—Besides, what good does it do to resist now? Without them, we couldn't even defeat the Northern Alliance, let alone... have we been able to fend off every raid up until today?"
Unable to rebut, the captain in question fell silent.
"At the very least, they've consistently demonstrated that they're worthy of trust. ...Then regardless of personal feelings, it makes sense to formally place ourselves under their command and face the Northern Alliance together. I don't see any other viable path, do you?"
Following those words, none of the other captains voiced objections.
After all, he was right. Objectively speaking, there was no path to defeating the Northern Alliance other than following Ermes's group, and so the discussion was on the verge of concluding when—
"...That's not necessarily true."
From yet another direction.
A different captain, who had been silently watching the proceedings until now, spoke up.
"...What? What do you mean—are you saying there's another option?"
"Yes."
In response to the question, the captain spoke in a perfectly calm tone.
And declared:
"—
Surrender to the
Northern Alliance."
Everyone's eyes went wide.
And in the next instant, the captain who had asked the question shouted:
"Are you insane!? That's the one thing we absolutely cannot do!"
"Why not?"
"Why not—!? Have you seen what's happened to the territories that have been absorbed by the Northern Alliance!? Everything—the territories, the people, all of it—has been placed under the Church's control. Production, commerce, even speech—nothing can be done freely without the Church's permission! Are you really going to throw our people into that suffocating situation!?"
"Of course, I find that distasteful as well. But—"
Having acknowledged all of those points, the captain continued in a single breath:
"—Can you guarantee that the alternative—leaving things in their hands—will be any better?"
"What... are you saying?"
"I'm sorry, but I still can't fully trust those people from the Third Princess's faction."
In a flat, detached tone, the captain continued:
"Nobles are always gracious when they approach us because they need our use. Even that Earl was like that. There's no evidence that these people are any different—and above all."
There, he clutched his own body. Trembling... as if in fear.
And declared:
"...That boy called Ermes—
what the hell
is he?"
"What do you mean, 'what is he'?"
"I mean exactly what I said. Think about it—it's unnatural, isn't it? He wields ten, twenty different magics that look like nothing but Bloodline Magic to me. No noble, not even royalty, could possibly do something like that. And yet he calls himself 'just a commoner.' ...It makes no sense."
"...That's..."
"Let me put it plainly. To me, that boy looks like...
a monster
wearing
human skin."
Silence fell over the room.
No one could say a word. Because every single one of them had witnessed Ermes's power firsthand... and to greater or lesser degrees, they all shared the same impression.
Even the captain who was favorable toward Ermes was no exception. Confirming that his fear had taken hold, the captain pressed on.
"On the surface, that group follows Liliana, the Third Princess... but the one at the center is undoubtedly Ermes. I... I don't want to entrust ourselves to a group led by something like that—incomprehensible, unknowable, monstrous."
"Guh..."
"What happens when Ermes eventually bares his fangs at us—or at our people? There's no way to know what will happen. It's beyond our control.
So... even if it means some hardship for our people... I believe it would be better to entrust this territory to the Northern Alliance, which can at least guarantee a certain standard of treatment."
Once again, silence fell over the room.
But this silence was different from before.
Not confusion—contemplation. They had all begun to think, because they recognized that there was, at the very least, merit to what the captain had just proposed.
—And then.
As if to put the final stamp on the flow of that discussion—
"My, my. Aren't there some surprisingly sharp minds here."
From a direction none of them had anticipated, a voice rang out.
Everyone turned toward the voice in shock... and were met with even greater astonishment.
Because standing there was—
"The Earl...!?"
Asrak von Harvist.
The traitor who had been driven out by Ermes and his group and was supposed to be on the Northern Alliance's side—why was he here? No, how had he even gotten here? This Earl had no capability to slip past their vigilance—what on earth was going on? The gathering was thrown into confusion.
"...Why are you here. ...What have you come to do?"
When one of the captains finally managed to ask that much,
The Earl, illuminated by the lamplight, smiled eerily and, in an uncharacteristic tone—as if someone else were speaking through him—said:
"Why, of course—I've come to save you fools who've been deceived by 'that devil Ermes.' Your true master—me."
And so.
The Church's venomous fangs closed in upon the soldiers, already beset by doubt and anxiety.
—And the first to sense it, before anyone else, was the red-haired princess.