Translator: KJ

──Whoooooo.

A rugged mountain range, where a desolate wind now came sweeping in, where only a few hours before the banners of the Valkanian army had surely still been flying.

"......"

There, the Mekerel soldiers found themselves witness to a strange scene. Every last one of them held their breath and stared at the sight before them.

"What in the world happened here?"

"A ghost. It's like a ghost swept through this place."

The garrison's communication lines, its ammunition depot, its weapons, its food stores, and all the rest of the military supplies and equipment had been left perfectly intact, and yet only the enemy soldiers, every last one of them, lay sprawled across the ground as corpses.

But there was no need for alarm. The orders that had come down from Mekerel's high command were simple.

'Occupy the garrison, seize the abandoned weapons, and establish a defensive line. As for what has been witnessed here, maintain absolute silence.'

The Mekerel soldiers had their doubts about the scene, but for the moment they hurried to their work.

"We'll be using this garrison as a defensive stronghold, so search the interior."

While the soldiers searched the garrison, the Mekerel commander crouched down and studied the bodies of the Valkanian soldiers intently.

Necks cleanly severed, the cut surfaces smooth as glass. Every wound on every corpse was as neat as a line drawn against a ruler.

All of it, the work of one and the same hand.

If more than a hundred armed soldiers had been butchered by a single individual, then he could vaguely guess at what sort of being was behind it.

But it was not something he could afford to say aloud.

"......All of you. Gather every last body and burn them."

The commander's order rang out quietly through the mountain vall⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌eys.

.......

I met with Batimus, th⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌e King of Mekerel.

My attire was not a knight's conspicuous uniform but the shabby, plain clothes of a commoner. This was, after all, a top-secret mission that demanded the Empire's involvement be concealed.

Valkania would have its suspicions, and there was nothing to be done about that, but at the very least we could not afford to leave behind any physical proof.

"I have received the report."

King Batimus spoke, his expression hard.

"Twelve enemy garrisons, taken in a single night, so I am told."

"That is good to hear."

He spoke in Mekerelian, and I answered, just as naturally, in Mekerelian as well. Interpreters had been kept out of the entire affair.

One of the reasons I go to the trouble of learning languages is that interpreters are a liability.

There were even records showing that a great many information leaks had their origins in the act of interpretation.

"I scarcely know how to express my thanks."

King Batimus heaved a deep sigh.

"And to think every nation on the continent turned its back on us......"

Even as he voiced his gratitude, a deep wariness lingered in Batimus's gaze.

Before my Regression, though his homeland had been trampled under Valkania's invasion, Batimus had, through endless resistance and diplomacy, ultimately kept Mekerel standing as an independent nation.

He had even, after the Continental War, willingly laid down his own royal authority and declared a 'republic' founded on the sovereignty of the people, a saint of a kind history rarely sees.

"As for us, you need only see that we are well fed."

I tossed out a deliberately light joke.

The knights deployed for the operation were no doubt stuffing food into themselves at this very moment. A single knight wields the combat strength of an entire battalion, but his fuel economy is just as dreadful for it.

After a combat drop and the high-intensity fighting that follows, both of which burn through mana and stamina to the very limit, a knight has to replenish at least tens of thousands of calories. Of course, enduring that hunger through willpower alone is also part of what makes a knight.

"We have prepared a meal in abundance. Set your mind at ease."

At the King's words, I gave a faint smile.

"Ah, that reminds me, Your Majesty. It seems that before long, not just weapons but communications equipment as well will be shipped into the southern port."

Communications are one of the most vital elements on the front. They are, in effect, the brain that allows an army to move as a single, living body.

But Batimus's expression hardened.

"......Knight of the Empire. What is it, exactly, that the Empire wants?"

He was wary of the Empire. He understood all too well that goodwill without a price did not exist, and that of all things, a hand extended by a great power like the Empire was the most dangerous.

"The Empire desires peace for the smaller nations."

I let an easy smile play across my face.

"However."

Lowering my voice, I pointed to a certain spot marked on the map of Mekerel.

"For that, I must first ask about the 'Rundar' region in Mekerel's southeast."

"......You speak of the Ezenheim."

The King grasped my intent at once.

"Yes. That is right."

In the southeast of Mekerel, there exists an enclave of the Ezenheim. Their numbers themselves are very small. Perhaps something on the order of 0.1 to 0.2 percent of the total population.

Having fled persecution centuries ago, they had long been judged to have assimilated completely into Mekerel, but of course there was no chance of that being true.

"The Ezenheim are an Anti-Race, Your Majesty."

It was the price for the Empire's weapons, and for the knights it had thrown in to collapse the enemy's front.

I will take into my own hands the Ezenheim that have coiled themselves up within Mekerel.

"If you mean to shelter the Ezenheim, the enemy of all mankind, then you mean to make an enemy of the Empire."

"......"

King Batimus had Mekerel's interests at heart. He was not a man who was wholly, simply good, either. To become a wise ruler, after all, a man had to be capable of hard decisions.

"And yet, Knight of the Empire. Valkania is already convinced that the Empire is the power behind Mekerel. And should word of this affair spread, they will be the more certain of it."

In exchange for surrendering the Ezenheim, Batimus, as the King of Mekerel, demanded a firm assurance from the Empire.

"Between Valkania and Mekerel, can the Empire say for certain that it will choose Mekerel? I, for one, cannot bring myself to think so."

Quite naturally, a smile spread across my lips.

"......The Empire's answer."

I know the future. And so I will utterly refuse any alliance between the Empire and Valkania. Far better to become their enemy instead.

No, we must become their enemy.

"It will reach Your Majesty soon enough, in the form of action."

For Valkania's army was just that incompetent, the very byword for a disorderly rabble.

.......

After my meeting with King Batimus concluded, I quietly walked the daytime stree⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌ts of Mekerel for a while.

"Hmm......"

There was something strange in watching the people of Mekerel in silence like this.

Here too, just as in Canilan, the presence of the Ezenheim was peculiarly faint. Among the countless people near the capital, not a single one was an Ezenheim.

"......Why is that, I wonder."

The Ezenheim.

An Otherworldly Species that craves the extinction of humankind.

Why had they not lurked at the center of Mekerel, choosing instead to build their enclave in one specific location?

"......"

Before Regression, Edmon had told me that the underground cities they had dug were meant to draw in beings from another world.

If so, then what kind of 'condition' would it have taken to open that dimensional gate?

"Beneath the earth......"

Through the Labor Reeducation Camps they dig through the eastern soil, burrow beneath the Empire, and assemble their underground cities.

Were they tracing out some magic of their own in order to open a dimensional gate?

But magic requires a price. Even they could not work magic without paying for it......

A thought flashed across my mind.

"Above the earth."

The war that would soon erupt on the surface. Endless slaughter and destruction. The despair and resentment, and the life force, poured out by tens of millions of humans as they died.

And what if all of that were to seep down beneath the earth......

"......Tsk."

For now, it is nothing more than my own wild fancy. But their objective itself is beyond doubt. The annihilation of humankind. Only the process and the means remain veiled in fog, out of sight; from far away, I am still groping after their intent.

But I am no longer alone now.

The 'Clairvoyant'─Filty─watching me from somewhere will surely arrive at the same answer one day as well.

I am still waiting for the one who, before long, will walk this road by my side.

* * *

Meanwhile, at the Imperial Palace of the Empire.

"......So. What is it you came here to say?"

Reutern II glared at the Valkanian diplomat, one leg crossed over the other on the sofa.

"I have come to inform you that Lord Reutern's support of Mekerel could escalate into a grave diplomatic incident."

The diplomat spoke in a stiff tone. His name was Giovanni. He was a Valkanian diplomat who had spent a fairly long while stationed at the Imperial embassy by now.

"What sup⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌port? Support for Mekerel?"

"Yes."

'Support for Mekerel. He's probably talking about my speech back at the House of Nobles.'

"Unbelievable...... Sitting there yapping about a 'diplomatic incident'."

Reutern II scoffed and sneered.

"Your Prime Minister, that bald bastard, was the one out there trash-talking us imperial royals first. Called us leeches feeding off the heart of the Empire, didn't he?"

"Please mind your words, Lord Reutern."

The diplomat's brow twitched.

"You mind your own damn words first, you hick. You have any idea who you're looking at right now? You even know who I am?"

Reutern's eyes went wide and fierce. It had been a while since he'd run into someone who brought out his old self.

"Even so, Lord Reutern, your military support to Mekerel-"

"What support! You got proof?!"

"Circumstantially-"

"So you've got nothing, then? And listen here, you little shit, your people called us parasites first! How's a parasitic leech supposed to bankroll anyone, huh?!"

Reutern raised his voice and jabbed his finger, but the diplomat calmly held his pitch. As a result, only Reutern's shouting rattled noisily through the reception room.

"Two days ago. Twelve Valkanian garrisons were seized by Mekerel."

"Congrats. That happen because you lot are a bunch of dipshits?"

"Mekerel does not possess the strength to strike twelve Valkanian garrisons all at once."

The diplomat's glasses glinted coldly. Reutern let out a dry laugh.

"Maybe your people botched the investigation? Ever hear of 'know the foe, a hundred battles, never get beat', or however the hell it goes? Moron! And besides, why are you bringing your war crap to me? Go to, uh, what's-his-name, go to Sebestian!"

'If it's a military grievance, he can take it to Sebestian. But he doesn't even have the nerve to go near Sebestian, and instead he comes to me and pulls this, which is really souring my mood.'

Even so, the diplomat rattled off a string of remarks, but Reutern II, only half-listening, merely waved his hand back and forth.

"......I shall call again another time."

"Don't come back. Or I'll kill you."

In the end the diplomat left without having gained a thing, and Reutern II raked at his hair in irritation.

"Ugh, that bastard really pisses me off."

He paced around the room, fuming, then grumbled.

"Fuck, this is irritating. The nerve of him, staring me straight in the eye. I oughta gouge his eyeballs out."

'Ugh, I'm pissed.'

'Damn, I really have mellowed. Back in the day I'd have just killed him. I've gotten old, too.'

Reutern threw a few punches into the empty air, whap, whap, then flopped down onto the sofa.

"Aaargh......"

He kept heaving out hot, heavy sighs, and then.

"......My mood's gone to shit, I can't take it."

That day, he rounded up a few people who had time on their hands and headed out.

He paid a visit to「Lilac Vita」, ate and drank the whole night through, then came back to his quarters and flopped onto the bed.

Slowly, softly─ he slipped into sleep.

"Khoooooo......"

Snoring away, how many hours had he been out cold like that?

Knock, knock-

The sound of knocking came.

Knock, knock-

His eyelids fluttered open.

"Haaaawn...... What. Who is it."

At the yawn-laced call, the door opened and his guard knight Bern stepped inside.

"Lord Reutern."

"What."

As he answered, he glanced at the clock. It was already eight in the evening, and his whole body felt heavy and stiff from the hangover.

"What is it."

More than that, though, Bern's expression was far too grave.

"What now?"

"Just now, the Valkanian diplomat, in the border region......"

Bern reported in a heavy, sunken tone.

"......lost his life in a bomb attack, they say."

"......?"

Reutern's eyes blinked.

"......The diplomat? That bastard who came by, what, yesterday?"

"Yes. The diplomat Giovanni, th⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌e one who came two days ago. The party behind it has not yet been identified, but......"

"Huh?"

Reutern asked back blankly.

"Wasn't it Mekerel that pulled off the attack? Going by his personality, he was kind of asking to get blown up."

At the nonchalant mutter. Bern watched him for a moment with rather dazed eyes, then bowed his head.

"As things stand...... it does appear highly likely that this was Mekerel's doing."

"Yeah~ it probably was. Definitely."

"......"

That it was Mekerel's doing, such was Reutern's word on the matter.

Whether it was true or not, the meaning was clear enough: at the very least, make it look that way.

"......Yes. Understood."

Bern accepted Reutern's intent.

"Whew~ that gave me a start. Anyway, off you go. I need to get back to sleep."

For Reutern, honestly, it was all so sudden that it felt like a dream. On top of that, his hangover was still brutal.

"I'll take my leave. Please rest well."

"Mm......"

He went burrowing sluggishly back under the covers.

* * *

On a bright, clear afternoon, a gathering of distinguished figures was in full swing at Prozen National University.

Jean Pierre, a professor at Prozen, led Sir Arthur Winston, the eminent scholar of Octopus University in the flourishing island nation of Highland, into his own study.

"A pleasure, Sir Arthur."

"It's been a while, Jean. Still buried under your piles of books, I see."

Having exchanged warm greetings, the two sat down facing each other on the sofa. Of late, the conversations between the two scholars had invariably centered on the war to come and the state of the continent.

"I hear the front between Valkania and Mekerel has fallen into a stalemate."

Sir Arthur Winston raised his teacup as he broached the topic. Jean Pierre nodded with a bitter look.

"Yes. According to Mekerel's own announcement, they recently retook part of the northern mountain region."

Arthur gave a derisive snort and set his teacup down.

"There's no chance Mekerel pushed Valkania's regular army back on its own. Most likely there was military aid from the Empire."

Even without clear physical proof, that the Empire had intervened was, by all the circumstances, an open secret among the continent's leadership and its scholars.

"It seems Valkania's invasion rubbed the Empire the wrong way far more than one might have expected."

At Jean Pierre's words, Arthur laughed softly. Clamping a pipe between his teeth, he murmured a certain name.

"Reutern. Are you familiar with him?"

"......Yes. The name does reach my ears now and again."

Reutern. A royal who had lately begun to make his presence felt across the continent.

"It's a well-known story how Prime Minister Azento tore into the royals of the Imperial Palace. They say Reutern, who has risen as a new power, was furious when he heard of it."

Jean Pierre pricked up his ears. It was a process of learning. The inner workings of the Imperial Palace were a matter still unfamiliar to Jean.

"And Reutern II is an exceedingly radical figure. It's already well known that he staged a bombing of his own to purge a political rival, and the one behind the weapons being supplied to Mekerel is none other than that very Reutern."

"Reutern II, backing Mekerel?"

"Yes."

Hooooo. Sir Arthur exhaled a stream of smoke and continued.

"Outside the palace, there is Maximilian; inside the palace, there is Reutern. That's what Imperial scholars have been saying these days."

"......I see. In that case-"

Just as the two professors were about to carry on into a deeper discussion of the Empire's movements.

──Bang!

The study door was flung roughly open, and an assistant came scrambling in, breathless.

"P-Professor! Breaking news has just come in! They're saying Valkania's diplomat to the Empire was killed on the spot in a bombing at the border region!"

In that instant, the faces of Jean Pierre and Arthur froze over.

~~~

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