Chapter 6 – Usurpation
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Two days later the funeral service for Ramal the Fifth was quietly carried out in the Old Castellum of the Aldemilan Palace. If you considered the emperor’s achievements, it wouldn’t have been strange to also honor him with a public funeral. Or rather, this sort of funeral would be a lot more reasonable. However, the court honored the emperor’s final wish to pass on silently.
Ramal the Fifth was laid out in the grand hall of the Old Castellum. Once the nobles in attendance had all gifted flowers, the burial rites were performed and his coffin was buried. Then again, many nobles would only learn of the emperor’s demise after his burial was already finished. Most of the nobles were living in their own fiefs. The palace had sent out fast messengers, but it’d take quite a bit time for the information of the emperor’s death to reach every corner of the empire’s realm. Because of that, the attending nobles were limited to court nobles and the nobles who had been in the capital for some sort of reason.
What a fitting way for him to pass away. I wanted him to at least grant territory to my son before dying, but since his last words were apologies, I guess hoping for that is now in vain, Farna stared at the calm face of Ramal the Fifth inside his custom-made coffin.
If she took her position as his official concubine into account, she should probably shed a few tears for him, but Farna didn’t feel like doing so. In exchange, she bid farewell from in her mind. She forgave him for all that had happened so far and promised that she’d refrain from holding grudges in regards to the hardships awaiting her from now on.
Once she turned on her heels, she found a wall in front of her. No, it wasn’t a wall, but a chest. The instant she closed her eyes, fearing to run into that chest, Farna was gently caught in someone’s hands. As soon as she opened her eyes again, she spotted rough and bony hands. Moreover, upon her lifting her face――
“Watch out,” a man smiled.
He had white hair and although his eyes carried a sharp glint, his smile possessed a mysterious charm.
“Forgive me.”
“Oohh, don’t mind me, missy.”
After separating from Farna, the man peered into the coffin, and widened his eyes in surprise.
“Who the hell’s that fatty?”
“――rg!”
Albeit being unrelated to that guy, Farna looked around her. The old nobles were looking her way, no, at the man in blatant annoyance.
“Obviously anyone would croak early on if they become so fat! Man, what a wretched state to be in! Back when he asked for my help as it looked like he’d shit himself at any moment and also when he couldn’t stop the execution of his little brother, he looked like a miserable mess, but what’s the friggin’ point in dying in such a pathetic way!?” The man talked down at the dead emperor like a waterfall.
Then, after having apparently had enough, he turned away from the coffin and walked off.
“Damn upstart, what insolence. They should imprison him for lese majeste,” the old nobles whispered amongst each other, but the man left the hall calmly as if all of this had nothing to do with him.
Farna departed the hall, feeling unwell in there. Thereupon, she saw the man talking with Prime Minister Alkor. The prime minister was a small, old man who would turn seventy this year. His back wasn’t bent yet, but he had so few hair left that it wouldn’t be much of a stretch to call him bald. And the few remaining strands were all white, telling a tale of the hardships he had to endure all these years. On the other hand, he possessed a bushy, full beard, though Farna doubted that he’d be able to make up for his missing head hair with that.
Setting aside the matter of the prime minister’s hair, he still remained one of the Empire’s key figures. As such, Farna felt a pang of curiosity, wondering who the other man was for him to be allowed to talk with Prime Minister Alkor so easily.
“You’re balding.”
“Sir Chrod, it’s just that you’re the odd one out.”
Farna assumed that this man had to be the one whom Ramal the Fifth had mentioned at the end. And just as she was pondering whether she should pass on the emperor’s final words to him, Chrod beckoned Farna over.
“Is something the matter?”
“You’re the one having business with me, right? Let me get this out right away, just in case, but please spare me with any attempts at seduction, okay? Even if I might look like this, I still wish to uphold the honor of my deceased wife.”
“Oh my, you’re quite self-conscious, aren’t you?”
“You might not be able to tell now, but I was fairly popular in my younger days,” Chrod pursed his lips in a sulky manner when he saw Farna laughing.
He was acting just like a kid.
“I’m sorry to say, but I merely pondered whether I should tell you His Majesty’s final words when I spotted you.”
“We’re talking about that guy, so it’s gotta be apologies, right?”
“『Forgive me. I only caused you trouble』 were his last words.”
“I see. How typical of him――”
“Sir Chrod.”
Chrod frowned as soon as Alkor spoke up.
“Ain’t like I’ll get hit by divine punishment for indulging in a bit of sentimentality, right?”
“Sorry.”
“Oh well, whatever,” Chrod sighed deeply upon Alkor’s apology.
“It’s time to sell the wheat, but――”
“I’ll leave that side to Mayla. It won’t be a problem to handle it as usual, will it?”
“The price has risen compared to last year.”
“If we sell now, the price is going to drop.”
“In that case――”
Their conversation continued in the same tune as they seemed to discuss what to do in order to keep the price for wheat at a reasonable level. As far as Farna could tell, Chrod had enough pull to actually influence the market with his wheat. As such, she could understand why he was able to talk with the prime minister.
Suddenly Chrod looked her way, causing her to feel a shock as if a vice had clamped down on her heart.
“The missy over here has been listening in all the time. That okay with you?”
“I don’t mind,” Alkor answered while stroking his beard and laughing like a good-natured old man.
However, the smile didn’t reach his eyes. He appeared to be convinced that Farna wouldn’t be able to do anything. And although his assessment was on point, she didn’t feel all that happy about it.
“Ah, on another matter: is our territory going to be alright with Ramal dead?”
“Who do you mean with our?”
“Obviously my southern borderland and my son’s fief. Are you slowly becoming senile?”
“That’s still far off, I hope,” Alkor responded with a bitter smile.
“His Majesty has confirmed the assignment of the Erakis March to Sir Chrono.”
“What about you?”
“No need to worry. It won’t be confiscated or anything. If they’d done anything like that, I’d have come back thirty years ago.”
“That’s great news. Sounds like things will wrap up without the grain stores going up in flames.”
“I’m also happy that the wheat price won’t experience a sudden price hike.”
Once Chrod smiled ferociously like a predator, Prime Minister answered in kind smiling like a snake――snakes would probably smile like that if they could.
※
In the evening Farna was invited to the round table in Castle Alfirk. Her son Alfort was with her. However, they weren’t the only ones who had been called over. The directors of the four great departments were present as well. And for some reason, Countess Cheiron of the Ninth Imperial Knight Order and Piske of the Twelfth Imperial Knight Order were participating as well.
“…Mother, am I going to be killed?”
“You’re overthinking things.”
“I see,” Alfort breathed out in relief.
There’s no way that’s true, right? Farna retorted in her mind. The existence of a second throne successor would be a hindrance for a smooth succession of the crown. Even if the potential successor himself held no interest in inheriting the crown. In such sense, it’d be easier to simply kill him off.
Why couldn’t he have thought of this by himself? Farna sighed. Alfort was fifteen years old. He had trained his martial arts and strove in his general studies to a reasonable degree.
And yet, he’s like that. I’m sure it’s because I failed at bringing him up. God damn it, I’m so sick of this.
Just when Farna sighed for a second time, the door was opened. Princess Tilia entered the round table room while wearing a black dress. She sat down on a chair while looking exhausted, just to glare at Farna and Alfort while appearing to be upset. The young boy started to shake furiously, apparently envisioning his own execution.
He’s my boy, but that doesn’t change that he’s a wimp. Well, then again, Princess Tilia has her own position to uphold. I’d like her to thank me since I cooperated in the preparations for her ball. Having said that, I can understand her feelings. In her eyes, I must be a thieving cat who stole her father.
“Thanks for coming. I had all of you gather here today to decide on our future plans,” Princess Tilia said with a sigh while surveying everyone present. “I doubt there are any objections to me becoming the next empress as first throne successor. Of course, I don’t intend to slight the current empire which my father, Ramal the Fifth, built up. However, as you can tell from the case of Marquis Erakis, military funds have been embezzled and I cannot ignore that.”
So she’s probably planning to do a purge and install those close to her in the important positions. It’s an old trick to strengthen one’s own authority. You could even call it cliched, but it still doesn’t change the fact of it being effective. To be honest, I have no interest in authority. If anything, I’m interested in what I need to do in order to live a calm, peaceful life.
Just as Farna was pondering about the issue at hand, Prime Minister Alkor spoke up.
“Princess Tilia, may I?”
“What is it?” Princess Tilia glared at him in obvious displeasure.
The prime minister slowly stood up.
“As a matter of fact…I have been entrusted with a will by His Majesty.”
“Show it to me.”
Alkor retrieved a piece of paper from his pocket, and handed it to Princess Tilia. She accepted it and scanned its content.
“――gh!”
“His Majesty’s will instructs that the country will be yielded to Sir Alfort.”
Princess Tilia gasped while Prime Minister Alkor smirked. Farna finally realized the true identity of that paper. Ramal the Fifth had used it to write down that he’d cede the crown to his dead brother, just as Farna had told him to. And the prime minister got his hands on that. Then again, Farna was the only one knowing the truth. If she had been close with the princess, she’d have thrown Princess Tilia a lifeline, but――
“This is…certainly…it’s my father’s handwriting.”
Once Princess Tilia admitted so, everyone except for Farna and Alkor shifted their looks towards Alfort. On the other hand, Alfort was just relieved to know that he wouldn’t be killed.
“What do you plan to do?”
“As far as I am concerned, I would like to obey the will.”
“Don’t screw with me!”
Screaming that, Princess Tilia slammed the will on the table.
“Do you plan to raise a rebellion like the late Lord Alfort then?”
“…That’s…”
Princess Tilia faltered upon hearing Prime Minister Alkor’s question. If she were to object to the will, quite a few nobles would likely support her cause. But, it was hard to tell whether they’d go as far as providing her with soldiers. In the first place, the soldiers would be regular imperial soldiers, even if their commanders might be nobility. For the soldiers, the Department of Military and Naval Affairs held the higher command rank, and as such they wouldn’t support Tilia unless she could offer them some sort of gain.
“Countess Cheiron, Count Piske…accompany Her Highness to the Main Tower.”
Faced with the bewildered looks by both counts, the director of the Military Department nodded silently.
“Please don’t think badly of me, okay?”
“We have no choice but to obey our orders.”
Countess Cheiron and Count Piske stood up, closing the distance to Princess Tilia.
“In that case, you leave me no choice either, I guess,” Princess Tilia spat out with a sigh and leaped at Count Piske.
She drove her elbow into his face and landed a beautiful turning kick. Farna wondered just how much strength the princess was hiding while the count got slammed against the wall, just to pitch forward and collapse.
Princess Tilia brandished a sword. Very likely she’d stolen it from Count Piske.
“That’s not what an imperial princess is supposed to do.”
“Right back at you. Or do you think this is something an imperial knight should do?”
“Your Highness, your view of knights is too dreamy. It’s no fad among knights to pledge their allegiance to the imperial family,” answered Countess Cheiron before drawing her sword.
“You think?”
“I do.”
White light rose from Princess Tilia, and in response, green light rose from the countess. The first to move was the princess. She closed the distance in an instant and thrust her sword out. It was an attack full of killing intent, holding back nothing.
Without faltering in any way, Countess Cheiron dodged the stab while even revealing a cool smile. Immediately after she circled around to Princess Tilia’s flank as if gliding across the floor, the point of her sword shot up.
A shrill, metallic sound filled the room.
The princess had parried the countess’s sword with hers. With a grating screech, Countess Cheiron’s sword headed down towards Princess Tilia’s hand alongside the princess’s blade. Farna assumed that the countess was planning to lock swords. Or possibly cut off the fingers or wrist of the princess.
For any ordinary swordswoman, the match would have been decided at that point, but Princess Tilia wasn’t ordinary. After flinging off her opponent’s sword, the princess launched a ramming attack.
As might be expected, even the countess didn’t see that one coming, and thus had no choice but to open up some distance by leaping back.
“For god’s sake, I didn’t expect you to be this good.”
“Despite appearances, I did graduate from the military academy at the top of my year.”
“Yet you lost to Chrono.”
“Ughh!”
Princess Tilia groaned upon Countess Cheiron’s teasing verbal jab.
“No helping it. I’ll get slightly serious then. Could you try to not die, please?”
“Don’t mess with me!”
Princess Tilia vanished with a bam. Farna assumed that she had explosively accelerated by using a divine art. The point of the princess’s sword pierced through Countess Cheiron. No, it’d be more precise to say that it looked as though it pierced through her. In reality, the sword stabbed through thin air.
Suddenly, the countess appeared behind the princess.
“I’m the other way around.”
“Kuuh!”
Princess Tilia performed what you could call a whirling slash, but Countess Cheiron was gone by the time the princess had fully turned around. The countess had disappeared the instant she had appeared behind the princess.
“Guaah!” Princess Tilia screamed and bent backwards.
A slash wound was visible on her back. Farna anticipated the injury to have been caused by the countess, but it was just a situational conjecture since Farna’s eyes couldn’t keep up with the countess’s movements.
Farna narrowed her eyes. In response, she became able to see a green light. Surrounding the princess.
“Gaah!” Princess Tilia screamed once again.
This time her shoulder had started to bleed. Moreover, the attack continued. The princess staggered as if being thrust away by an invisible hand, and each time new wounds opened up. She became fully bloodstained in no time, but Farna considered that appearance to be beautiful.
“Time to finish this.”
“There!”
Princess Tilia delivered another whirling slash upon hearing the countess’s voice. The dissonant sound of metal hitting against metal reverberated, but it was only the countess’s sword that could be found there.
“Above!”
“Correct! But, it’s too late!”
Princess Tilia looked up to the ceiling. There she spotted Countess Cheiron kneeling on the ceiling. She was holding a bow in her hand. An emerald bow of delicate craftsmanship. You could even sense some divinity from it.
“Don’t die on me, okay?”
“Ugh, a sacred treasure!?”
Once the princess lifted her left hand, a shield of light covered the area above her head. A little moment later, the countess shot her arrow. No, she likely had waited for the princess to get her defenses up, guessed Farna.
The result was such a dazzling torrent of light that it was hard to keep the eyes open. Princess Tilia took on that light. Cracking resounded throughout the room. The sound had been produced from underneath the princess. The floor had yielded to the pressure, developing cracks.
Suddenly the light vanished, and although Princess Tilia was down on one knee, she was still alright. At the least, it didn’t look like she had suffered any heavy injuries.
“How dare――”
Princess Tilia stood up, but immediately crumbled down on the spot. It wasn’t that she’d used up all her strength. Instead, Count Piske had sneaked up on her, touched her back, and enacted some sort of divine art.
“Unpreparedness is one’s greatest enemy.”
“Trying to be cross with me?” Count Piske grimaced at Countess Cheiron’s comment.
“Never.”
“Even I…if the opponent hadn’t been Her Highness…,” the count croaked in annoyance.
The countess shrugged her shoulders after landing on the ground.
“Look, then you should pull a face as if everything went according to plan.”
“I’m not that shameless,” Count Piske objected huffily.
Farna wondered whether one wouldn’t count attacking someone from behind by surprise as shameful, but it wouldn’t change anything, even if she pointed it out here. It’d just buy her his animosity.
“…You sure are a coward to attack me by surprise,” the princess said with a voice as if it was rumbling from the bottom of an abyss while looking up to the count.
“The winner is always right.”
“Guuh――――!”
Princess Tilia tried to raise her body while gritting her teeth.
“No, no, you stay down.”
“Guuh!”
Countess Cheiron stepped on Princess Tilia’s head. Somehow she was looking awfully delightful about this.
“Come to think of it, there’s something I have to tell you, Your Highness. As a matter of fact…I’ve become Chrono’s lover.”
“W-Wha..!?”
Princess Tilia’s eyes flew wide open.
‘It must have been a fairly shocking revelation to her. Maybe the princess is in love with that Chrono person. No, I’m pretty sure she is.
At that moment, the prime minister timidly spoke up, “With Chrono you mean Sir Chrod’s…Baron Chrod’s son?”
“What about it?”
“N-No, aren’t you two guys?”
“Chrono said that he can only see me as a woman.”
“A, I-I see. Well, as long as it’s limited to being lovers…”
“He was wonderful,” Countess Cheiron hugged her own body while facing the princess. “He almost made me cum several times by just kissing me.”
“W-What about it?” Princess Tilia retorted with a shrill voice.
Her agitation was pretty clear to everyone.
“I was scared to death when I was almost raped by him, though. But, that was only at the start. Once I asked him to keep an eye on going through the proper steps, he approved. Ah, his caressing is so wonderful. He gave me a wonderful experience while watching my every reaction.”
“U-Ugghh!”
Countess Cheiron revealed a smile full of triumph.
“Oh my? Shees, Princess Tilia, the damage you took from this is in plain sight to everyone, you know? Your dear man, the man you love, was stolen by another guy! Even though you used those huge tits of yours and came on him so strongly, it seems like you never entered his line of sight in the first place! Hahahaha!”
“Rio Cheiron!”
Princess Tilia stood up, glaring at Countess Cheiron with teary eyes. No sadness of a princess, who had the country stolen from under her nose, could be seen in her face. Just the passion of a woman who had her man stolen from her. Moreover, her lover was cucked by another guy. It didn’t change the fact that either was devastating, but the latter felt even more tragic.
“C-Chrono would never do anything like that!”
“Hihihi, you don’t understand him, do you? In his eyes, there exists no difference between half-elves, demi-humans, slaves, commoners, nobles, me, and you. That’s why he tried to have sex with me. Maybe he’s even lonelier than I am.”
“AAAAHHH!!” Princess Tilia screamed and unleashed a punch.
Her fist landed on the countess’s cheek. And then the princess collapsed then and there. Apparently she’d run out of strength.

“…I won’t kill you,” said Countess Cheiron with a gentle voice while looking down at the princess.
“Did you possibly provoke her on purpose?”
“I don’t want to make Chrono grief. That’s all,” Countess Cheiron answered Farna’s question with a sigh.
“I see. That means your words from before were lies, huh?”
“We still haven’t entered a physical relationship, but everything else was mostly true.”
“…I understand.”
Prime Minister Alkor dropped his shoulders in disappointment upon the countess’s words.
Does he have some sort of emotional bond to the man called Chrono?
“Now then, Count Piske and I have to lock up the princess in the castle’s main tower.”
Countess Cheiron lifted Princess Tilia up and left the Room of the Round Table together with Count Piske.
“Okay, let us resume the meeting,” the prime minister announced as if nothing had happened. “I think we should hammer out the new policies for when Lord Alfort is going to succeed the imperial throne, but does any of you have a comment on that?”
The director of the Military Department nodded quietly when the prime minister looked at him. It looked as though they had already laid the groundwork.
“…I request a revision of our foreign policies. Our country’s domain was reduced by a third due to the disturbances thirty years ago, but His Majesty didn’t approve of a war to recover our lost territory.”
“However, we will need extensive planning and scheming if we’re going to chip away the Free City States’ influence.”
“The mercenaries of the Betel Mountains count as warhawks in the Free City States. As you most likely know, the Betel Mountains possess no arable land and thus the people living there have been winning their bread as mercenaries for many generations.”
Those particular mercenaries were famous for never running away or betraying their client.
“However, it’ll cost us a huge amount of money, when it comes to destroying the Betel mercenaries, won’t it? In addition, it’ll inevitably impact the lives of our people since the Free City States govern many trade routes.”
The Betel mercenaries and the occupation of the trade routes were the two major reasons why it was so hard to wage war on the Free City States. If the Empire launched a war, the flow of goods would cease. The nobles, who made a profit through trade, would pretty obviously reject that idea.
“Of course, I don’t plan to fight those city states either. However, I have been concerned that we couldn’t openly show our discomfort so far, even when being repeatedly attacked by Argo.”
“I see. You mean it’s necessary to deprive them of their sword to protect our people, huh?”
“Indeed.”
A heavy silence dominated the room.
“…Lord Alfort, what is your take on this?”
“Eh?” Being suddenly asked by the prime minister, Alfort squeaked with surprise in his voice. “Err, ah, umm…the Empire has been attacked over and over again by Holy Kingdom Argo, so I thought it’d be good if we made our displeasure known.”
Farna felt like being at her wits’ end due to her son’s words. Right now, he’d be the next emperor. If the next emperor said that it’d be best to make his displeasure known, it’d be interpreted as an outbreak of war.
“Ooohh! If you have such a strong determination, these talks will proceed quickly. Achievements will be necessary once you inherit the throne.”
“Eh? Eeeehh!?”
Ignoring the confused prince, their conversation shifted towards war preparations.
※
After the meeting had ended, only Farna and Prime Minister Alkor remained in the Room of the Round Table.
“…How unexpected.”
“What is?”
“I thought, if anyone, you would be able to handle Princess Tilia skillfully, and yet――”
“I don’t wish to strengthen Empress Astrea’s influence.”
“You had me give birth to Alfort for this moment, right? In order to use him as a figurehead of the revolt.”
“Right. But, luckily I obtained His Majesty’s will,” said the prime minister with a sigh.
He was very cautious of Empress Astrea. To the extent that you could call it manic.
‘Why is he so wary of the empress? She has lost her influence a good while ago――
“You just didn’t take advantage of His Majesty after he lost his mind. Either way, it’s a terrible betrayal.”
“I’ll do anything to thwart that woman’s influence. Even when it comes to betraying His Majesty,” Prime Minister Alkor said with a low and subdued voice.
“Why would you go so far…?”
Upon her question, the prime minister furrowed his eyebrows, putting on a troubled expression.
“You probably don’t know, but it was Empress Astrea who had triggered the civil war thirty years ago.”
“I thought that the rebellion simply occurred because of His Majesty’s incompetence.”
“You sure say some nasty stuff, too.”
“I had nasty things done to me, so I’ve got all right to say at least that much.”
“I guess…so,” Prime Minister Alkor admitted with a groan.
He was a man capable of making the decision to cut off other people, but it didn’t mean that he had no feelings either. Farna assumed this to be the reason why Ramal the Fifth had trusted him.
“His Majesty had planned to yield the throne to Lord Alfort. He was convinced that it would be better to let his excellent brother inherit the crown instead of his incompetent self. Many people opposed that idea, but His Majesty went around, persuading each and every single one of them. But, “the prime minister continued, “in the end, we couldn’t rally everyone behind us. And a part of His Majesty had sympathy with Empress Astrea who had voiced her discontent about this plan. That’s why the rebellion occurred, leading to Lord Alfort’s execution.”
“Empress Astrea only voiced her discontent, didn’t she?”
“Who knows how deeply involved she was in the rebellion,” Prime Minister Alkor objected with a light shaking of his head.
Farna felt like she could understand his side of the story. He hated the empress and suspected that he might be forced to dance on her palm this time around as well. Or maybe you could even call it fear. In addition, he was full of guilty feelings as he couldn’t end the civil war, nor could he stop the civil war from expanding.
All those feelings probably turned into one huge jumble, making him feel compelled to trick Princess Tilia.
“…And is war one of those I’ll do anything things?”
“I suspect it won’t be difficult to have the empire’s politics transit into a system centered around Sir Alfort as long as there’s the just cause of winning against a common enemy. Of course, it also had the objective to show everyone that the empire hasn’t been just bolstering its defenses…”
“What do you plan to do with Princess Tilia?”
“I’ll keep her locked up in the main tower for a while.”
“And afterwards?”
“…”
Prime Minister Alkor remained silent. Farn suspected that he very likely considered it too much of a waste to kill the princess.
He might not admit it himself, but that guy’s a miser. He won’t readily cast away anything that could have some utility value.
“What would you do with her?”
“Hmm, wouldn’t it be fine to have her married?”
“She’ll become a nuisance, regardless of whether we marry her off to a domestic noble or a foreign country.”
“You cannot say so for certain, right?”
“Why would you say that?”
“A woman’s intuition.”
“…”
The prime minister fell silent once more.
Grimacing in silence…what a rude man.
“It’ll be okay if you banish her from the capital while attaching observers to her.”
“…I’ll take it into consideration,” answered Prime Minister Alkor after a while.
This was the limit of what Farna could do for Princess Tilia. The rest would depend on the prime minister, but Farna hoped that the princess could get married to the man she loved.
Even I should at least have the right to cheer for a lovestruck maiden.
※
Igniz gazed at the beautiful townscape sprawling at the lake’s shore from atop a hill ― Canops, the capital of Holy Kingdom Argo. It was being passed down that the founding king had decided on this place for the capital after getting touched by the quaint lake flanked by mountains, but no one could tell whether this story was true.
Very likely, the founding king decided on this land after considering the terrain that would make it hard to attack the capital with a large army. But, looking down on Canops from here, I feel like there might be some truth to that legend. Though, that’s a train of thought unfitting for a general, Igniz assessed before shifting his gaze to the training ground where his soldiers were working hard at their exercises. 4,000 infantrymen and 1,000 cavalrymen ― that was the total count of his army.
A gust of wind blew past, causing his right sleeve to flutter. Igniz grabbed the sleeve with a frown. It had revived a bitter memory in his head.
Half a year ago he had invaded Cepheus together with Crown Prince Regulus. They had planned to oppose the temple and boost the prince’s clout by exhibiting his military might.
Holy Kingdom Argo was held together as a country with the support of the temple’s authority. It was said that this system of religion and state worked well at first, but Igniz didn’t know of any such period. Ever since he became aware of what was going on around him, the temple had been interfering in the national politics under the pretext of religious services. Nowadays things had become much worse. 40% of the kingdom’s royal army was in the hand of the temple, and the clergy snatched 20% of the tax revenue in the name of donations.
They could have stopped this course of events if the invasion had worked out successfully. And even if they didn’t manage to stop it altogether, it should have been at least possible to loosen the temple’s grip on the kingdom somewhat.
But, Igniz lost.
He tightly gritted his teeth while clamping down on his right sleeve.
“My right arm…the right arm I lost is throbbing.”
“…”
Hearing such a teasing remark, Ignaz silently stared at the base of the hill. A woman in fairly revealing clothes was sitting over there while holding a wine bottle in one hand. She possessed wavy, black hair. Her eyes seemed gentle, but at the same time, a light dwelt within them as if her jet-black pupils could stare into the deepest recesses of a soul. She was a divine artist of the Goddess ruling of Jet-Black Chaos. Moreover, she was the highest authority――the High Priestess――of the Jet-Black Temple.
“Lady High Priest, I am…”
“I thought you prefer using 『Hag』 for me?”
“You’re still complaining about something from twenty years ago?”
Igniz ground his teeth out of anger.
That hag――the High Priestess of the Jet-Black Temple――hasn’t changed a bit ever since I met her. She mingles with the people while casting her divine arts in exchange for wine. When I was younger I felt upset at her way of life that completely wasted her talent, but nowadays I can only feel jealous of it.
“You know, I can regrow that right arm of yours, if you wish.”
“It’s none of your business. I lost my arm due to my own incompetence. Besides…”
“Besides?”
The hag narrowed her eyes as if holding some expectations for Igniz’s reply.
“There’s no way it’d be alright for only me to get back my right arm while my dead soldiers rot under the earth!”
“Kuhahahaha! You’re so wonderfully stubborn!”
The hag writhed about while holding onto the wine bottle once she heard Igniz’s roaring.
“This country will be finished if you tear down the temple.”

“I know that myself,” Igniz replied in a manner befitting a general since the High Priestess had suddenly put on a serious expression.
“But, you mustn’t get impatient.”
“No need to tell me,” Igniz answered sullenly.
Her words could be interpreted as criticism of his invasion half a year ago. And thinking back on it now, Igniz believed that he should have acted more cautiously. Maybe because he got too impatient, overestimated his own abilities, or both, he had committed a grave mistake. That much was for sure.
“You have to go with steady effort.”
“I know,” he retorted angrily.
If only we could focus on our domestic issues…, he thought, but that was asking too much under the current circumstances. The skirmishes with the empire continued at the border. And Igniz didn’t know when he’d be summoned in his position as general.
“Just what the hell should I do…?”
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