Published at 22nd of January 2020 4:18 pm

Volume 3, Chapter 3: To Each His Own Melancholy

This chapter is updated by NovelFree.ml

Roland was facing its biggest panic yet since Sion took the throne.

Estabul was rebelling. A great number of their soldiers were sympathetic to the cause, too, and it’d become quite the force to be reckoned with.

Outside of the public eye, Roland’s nobility was terrified.

They were currently in the grand royal palace. It was a huge, excessive building that had been constructed by Roland’s previous master for the sole purpose of flaunting his authority. Each pillar was laid in his name, as was the throne itself.

It used to be that anyone who spoke to the king on his throne didn’t have opinions of their own.

No, they might’ve, but they’d get the death penalty if they spoke them… because the punishment for souring the king’s mood was the death penalty. That was the kind of country this was. A country that only rotted as the days passed…

But right now, Sion was sitting at the throne. Before him were many nobles and people affiliated with the military. They of course included Claugh, Calne and Froaude; Newbull of the pro-monarchy party who’d followed and obeyed Sion since his early days of power; and other nobles who obeyed Sion’s orders.

And… the head of the anti-monarchy party, Duke Staelied, and his partymen.

As Sion looked through the faces swarming the throne, he let a little smile show through. “This is pretty easy to understand,” he said quietly.

The organization of the pro-monarchy and anti-monarchy parties assembled before him were as easy to understand: one was to his left, the other his right. Of course there were probably spies from the anti-monarchy party within the pro-monarchy party, but that went both ways. It was just that the anti-monarchy party was open with their reactionary behavior. They didn’t have the mind to hide it. That alone was proof that they didn’t yet have the power to stand up against Sion.

The people by Sion’s side right now consisted only of the upper brackets of the military and nobles with relation to them. They too were motivated to come here by political self-interest… Because if they followed Sion, who’d gotten here through the military, their own rank would rise. That was probably what they were thinking.

In the end, there was hardly anyone here who legitimately put their country first.

“…Well, that was pretty obvious though…”

A voice from the anti-monarchy party’s side started their discussion. When Sion looked over to him, he fit the picture his voice had brought to mind exactly: Count Culliard, a man just starting his forties. “Your Majesty, how do you intend on taking responsibility for this matter? Will you, by chance, be forgiving the Estabulian rebels…?”

“A tall and spindly older gentleman, Newbull, spoke next. “Sir Culliard, that is quite rude of you to say to His Majesty!” Count Newbull barked, glaring harshly at Culliard.

Culliard flinched, then turn back as if to keep anyone from reading his face. But he soon regained his confidence. “Hah! Sir Newbull, I only spoke the truth. Or do you have proof that the king has the power to put the low-born rebels of Estabul in their place?”

“Do you think that level of disrespect can be forgiven!?”

Sion smiled bitterly at their back-and-forth. He spoke so softly that it was almost soundlessly so that no one else could hear. “I can forgive it…”

That was the situation Sion was currently in. He couldn’t control the influential nobility even while sitting in the throne. But he could forgive the nobility for this.

Sion narrowed his eyes and glared past Culliard to where Duke Staelied stood.

Culliard hadn’t been hiding his own complexion before. He’d been checking Staelied’s. The one who held the most power here now wasn’t Sion. It was Staelied.

He was a being who lived in darkness: he pulled strings with every other noble, threatened them, and bribed them. He’d been a close consort of the previous king.

He was a shrewd man.

Even though the previous king had been overthrown, Staelied’s own status as the most influential noble went unchanged.

Sion had sent many spies to Staelied’s and yet they were all unsuccessful in catching him Even so, no spy ever returned. Even so, Staelied’s fief was always wealthy and he was popular with his people.

He was a man in his late fifties with perfect posture and an agreeable expression. But he was, without a doubt, at the top of the nobility food chain.

To top it all off, Sion could feel the presence of a number of people behind him who didn’t enter the fray at all…

Sion shook his head, tired. Thinking about it now wouldn’t change anything. Someday in the near future he’d have to face off squarely with the nobility… but right now Estabul was more important. The Estabulian rebellion was more important.

“……”

Sion looked to his own party. To a man watching Newbull and Culliard’s row with a refreshed expression. He was the real perpetrator of the Estabulian rebellion who’d suggested an unthinkable plan to round up and kill all the dangerous factions in Estabul. He was currently watching the nobility’s disorganized confusion with a faint smile.

“Disrespect, you say?” Culliard said. “I speak nothing but the truth. His Majesty was a bit too soft on the people. The common folk are ignorant. Even though they cannot live without our care, they soon take advantage of our kindness if we do not rule over them properly! This all happened because His Majesty was too soft on them!”

Newbull’s face reddened. “Sir Culliard, you—”

His voice was drowned out by the anti-monarchy party raising their voices in agreement with Culliard.

“He’s right! His majesty was a bit too soft!”

“He made light of us nobles to try to make things easier for the commoners!”

“His Majesty treats us nobles like—”

“Shut up!!” Someone suddenly yelled. His voice carried well throughout the room, accompanied by a strong intimidating aura.

The nobility all quieted so neatly that it was almost like it was practiced. They all looked towards the man who’d yelled.

Staelied.

Then Claugh, who stood closest to Sion’s side, spoke quietly. “Hm… so he’s finally arrived,” Claugh spat.

Staelied looked around his surrounding nobles, seeming to look down on them, then looked to Sion. “Please pardon their behavior, Your Majesty,” he said calmly. “They are simply the opinions of the young… even so, they say what they do because they have their country’s best interests in mind. We too are perplexed regarding this Estabulian rebellion.”

They had their country’s best interests in mind? How dare he?

Sion laughed scornfully internally, and outwardly nodded exaggeratedly. “I understand. I’m grateful as always to Duke Staelied as well as the rest of the nobles gathered here for their continued devotion towards our country.”

Staelied lowered his head, bowing deeply. “My, my. I truly have no words…”

Newbull and the others just glared at him as he did. Obviously. He’d made Newbull lose face, after all. But with a shrug of their shoulders, he was forgiven. They couldn’t afford to fight Staelied now. So they had to act exactly how the anti-monarchy party expected…

This wasn’t the place for revenge. It was the place to talk about the Estabulian rebellion. They had to make progress on that matter.

“Now then, Your Majesty, how do you plan to progress with the matter of the rebellion in Estabul?” Staelied asked with a cunning smile settled on his lips. “They have high status for being the losers of a war, and the nobility can’t help but be scared. If at all possible, we hope for a swift response to the matter…”

They’d been formally notified of the rebellion two days ago. It should have been utterly impossible to think of a plan on how to properly deal with it in that time. That’s what was written on Staelied’s face. There was no way they’d confirmed the rebellion’s ringleaders or their stronghold’s location yet.

Sion smiled meanly. “Of course I’ve a counterplan. The very fact that this sort of rebellion is occurring now is in line with my expectations. Please do relax.”

The palace erupted in an uproar.

Staelied, surprised, studied Sion as if to try to look into his mind. No, not just him. The pro-monarchy party - Claugh, Calne, and Newbull among others - stared at him in shock as well.

“You expected a rebellion?” Claugh asked.

Sion nodded, but he never looked away from Staelied. “My investigation also returned information on the ringleader. It is Lady Noa Ehn, the daughter of the previous king of Estabul, Lughe Ehn, who has always obstinately refused to meet with me. She is at the center of a number of nobles and the soldiers who obey them.”

Staelied’s expression turned pained. “It can’t be… you’ve already…”

Sion didn’t let his mumbled remark escape. “Yes, I’ve already had it all investigated. So I’d like it all the nobles here could rest assured and reassure their people in turn. I am not as foolish as you all think…”

He wasn’t so foolish that he’d always forgive the nobility for acting as they pleased.

Sion glared openly at Staelied and the nobles gathered behind him. Some of the nobles turned their fearful faces away. Others hung their heads. Only Staelied didn’t tear his eyes from Sion, ever smiling…

“That is reassuring,” Staelied said. “It is because Your Majesty is here that our country can remain a country…”

Sion ignored that remark. “Now then, I’d like the one who investigated the situation in Estabul for me, Colonel Miran Froaude, to take it from here.”

Froaude bowed lightly in acknowledgement then took a single step forward. He waited for the nobles to quiet and for their eyes to gather on him and then spoke in his cold, dead, devil-like voice. “The situation is not especially favorable. According to the my information… thirty thousand soldiers and counting have gathered over the past few days. If we let the situation be, surely their numbers would reach fifty thousand.”

The nobles paled.

“F-fifty thousand!?”

“That’s ridiculous… d-doesn’t that mean that about half of Estabul’s former army is participating in this rebellion…?”

“That’s beyond a rebellion - it’s a war!”

Froaude appeared to ignore their comments altogether and continued in a detached tone. “The battle will take place in former Estabul, but… an amount of damage to Roland’s territory will likely occur as well. Even so, I have a plan to keep the damage to a minimum. The domain most at risk for a battle within Roland according to my plan is… that of Lord Culliard’s…”

“Ngh!? I won’t allow—”

“I do apologize, Lord Culliard, but please think of the enemy’s movements and that geographical area’s merit. This is a move necessary to minimize damage. I believed you, Lord Culliard, who thinks only of his country would readily consent.”

“Gh… you,” Culliard started, but no more words came out.

Froaude waited a moment to ensure that he had nothing else to say before continuing. “In addition, Lord Staelied’s domain, Lord Newbull’s domain, Lord Ishurna’s domain, and Lord Paul’s domain… may end up as battlefields as well. As such, I would like it if the nobles could vacate their domains for a while as this matter is settled and take refuge within the castle. Oh, but rest assured. The military and I will protect your domains in your absence…”

Sion smiled wryly. Aside from Newbull, they were all the domains of nobles from the anti-monarchy party.

Culliard, Ishurna, and Paul naturally paled. “W-wait. Are you telling us to leave our property for you to trample!?”

“I-I can’t forgive that. I absolutely won’t—”

Froaude fixed his dark eyes on them. “Won’t forgive? Won’t forgive what? Do you have a problem with me visiting your domain in your absence? Or is there something that you worry I’d see?”

“D-don’t be ridiculous! I have nothing of the sort! B, but…”

Staelied spoke from their side as if to save them. “Calm down, now, Sir Culliard. I understand what you three are trying to say,” he said and turned to Froaude. “My lord Colonel Miran Froaude. You aren’t making an effort to be understanding of them, are you? You too are of noble lineage so you must understand how much we love our domain and its people are saddened to be seperated from them. It saddens us to hear that they may have to be exposed to the horrors of war. Is there anything we might be able to do for them?”

Froaude narrowed his eyes and spoke. “I see. If that’s the case, please stay within your domains. Estabul’s forces number fifty thousand at most… our military will surely protect you.”

Sion forced laughter back and smiled wryly. A single territory could not be easily protected against fifty thousand soldiers. If they remained on their land, there was a possibility they’d die…

The nobles paled. “N-no, I’m not so obstinate that I’d prefer to stay within my territory…”

Staelied raised a hand to stop him. “Colonal Froaude… I am saying that I’d like something to be done so as to avoid war spreading so far into Roland. Is that not the purpose of our military?”

“Hoh. Are you suggesting we have the rebellion be subjugated within Estabul?”

“Yes. Is it not better to avoid getting the people of Roland wrapped up in this?”

“But Estabul too is now a part of Roland. Their people are Roland’s people, are they not?”

“I wonder if you truly think that? They are a people who were defeated in war—”

“The things you say, Duke,” Froaude interrupted. “One could not truly maintain your belief after the recent developments within the Roland Empire.”

Staelied’s eyes had been calm until now, but they went harsh in an instant. “Colonal Froaude, I believe you just said too much, don’t you? Do you know who I—”

Froaude cut him off again, quickly bowing. “How rude of me. I will accept your scolding after this meeting is adjourned. But in this moment, what we should do about Estabul is what’s important. They are growing more powerful as we speak. We could continue in several ways, one of which being attempting to talk it out, but…”

He turned to Sion, who shook his head. “No. That would make rebelling a forgivable offense. They’d rebel again and we’d enter a second age of war where Estabul attempts to gain independence.”

Froaude nodded. “Then we shall suppress their rebellion. I will lead the army to Estabul…”

That was something that’d been decided from the beginning. Froaude would lead the army and kill all the soldiers and nobles of Estabul… But Sion shook his head. “No, let’s leave it to Major General Claugh Klom this time. I entrust the entirety of Estabul’s subjugation to him.”

Froaude turned to look at Sion. His expression was just as dark and cold as always, but Sion understood what he was trying to say.

That Sion had gotten it wrong.

The scenario that Froaude had written for him went like this - Froaude would accept the position in charge of Estabul’s rebellion, and while they scrambled to get in contact with the traitor, he’d slaughter all of Estabul’s nobles. Furthermore, he’d expand the battlefield to include territories within Roland and use the opportunity to investigate and punish the anti-nobility faction.

However.

Froaude’s tone was as composed as ever. “Your Majesty, this is—”

“Will you do it, Claugh?” Sion asked, cutting Froaude off.

Claugh looked to Froaude and smiled smugly. “Please leave it to me,” he said, correcting his manners for the occasion.

“Froaude, you’ll play the part of information transmission. I’ll have Claugh help you so that you can make the best of your intelligence network.”

“Ahh? Supporting this guy is kinda—”

“It’s an order, Claugh. You too, Froaude - are you alright with this?”

It was an order. Sion said so himself. To Claugh and to Froaude.

Froaude smiled faintly.

“……Understood. That is fine. Please leave it to me,” Froaude said emotionlessly.

“Then the matter of Estabul’s subjugation will be left entirely to Major General Claugh Klom. That’s the end of that. As for the rest of you, please relax and return to your duties. That’s final,” Sion said a bit loudly.

Nobody objected.

---

The nobility left the palace - those who were dissatisfied as well as those who were smiling in satisfaction, unabashedly happy that their territories wouldn’t get wrapped up in any fighting. Only Staelied broke away from the rest. He behaved as though nothing was wrong, gazing into the place where darkness had settled despite being in the midst of a crowd.

Miran Froaude.

He was currently standing a short distance from the pro-monarchy party.

Obviously. It was clear just by looking that the king had rejected his views a moment ago.

Could Froaude not have caused the rebellion in bad faith?

That was Staelied’s guess. Otherwise there was no way to explain how their young king managed to gain so much information on it so quickly. Then Froaude would subjugate it and rise in the world due to his achievements. Was that not Froaude’s plan from the beginning?

“……”

Staelied felt that he was a dangerous man. On top of being sharp, his plan was merciless. It was like he was just playing with the lives of others. He was a man one didn’t want as his enemy. Or… it was more like it wasn’t necessary to make him his enemy.

Staelied waded through the smiling crowd and made his way over to Froaude. Right. There was no need to make an enemy out of him. After all, he was the same type as human as Staelied. If he was to get in contact with him, now was the time. The king had slighted him, so it was Staelied’s chance to get him on his side instead…

“Hey, Colonel Froaude, my lord.”

Froaude turned at the sound of his name. “If it isn’t the Lord Duke. I apologize for my unthinkable rudeness before…”

Staelied raised his hand lightly to stop him, his expression as calm as always. “No, no, don’t mind that now. You were compelled by your feelings for your country. I’m always hearing quite a lot about your great service. Your father Marquiss Froaude is no doubt proud of you.”

Froaude’s face twitched. “Your words of praise are the highest honor to me.”

Father…

Staelied knew the significance of that word to Froaude. He was an orphan adopted by the Froaude house for the purpose of gathering military accomplishments. He was faithful to Marquiss Froaude, too, and Staelied had heard that he’d use any trick in the book to rise in rank, no matter what it took…

“I’m sure that you’re already aware, but your father Marquiss Froaude and I are quite close,” Staelied continued. “I’ve always wanted to be close to you as well.”

“My, my. I also have always wanted to talk with my lord Duke Staelied at least once.”

“I see. I thought that might be the case. Because you and I are quite similar people,” Staelied said as if to test the waters.

“…Yes, perhaps. We certainly may share similarities in some regard, my lord Duke.”

Obviously.

He’d managed to make contact with him from the opposing party. And madness wasn’t what reflected in his eyes…

Staelied smiled in satisfaction. “Yes, yes. What do you think, standing at the young king’s side?”

Froaude cast his eyes downward in thought for a moment. “Unfortunately, my ideas didn’t go over well today. It is certainly due to his naivety. He lacks the severity necessary to deal with enemies. Even if one might be right before his eyes, he still wonders if he can’t save them. He has the strength to kill his enemies but also the ability to sympathize with them; that is his weakness. That weakness causes him to waver between good and evil. That is only my image of him, however. He does not prioritize the most profitable outcome, so to be frank, he is difficult for me to deal with.”

His words were decisive.

Staelied could win him over.

Even if he was adopted, a father was a father and a son was a son. He was the same as Marquiss Froaude. If he was shown something fascinating, he’d recklessly change sides. He was fully willing to entrap others for his own profit.

“I see,” Staelied said joyfully. “So you think so too?”

“I do.”

“Then what do you think? Which side has the more profitable plan?”

Froaude tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

Staelied smiled. “Isn’t it obvious? Between following me or following the king, which is more profitable?”

“…I do not understand.”

“…Heheh. You are quite careful. And outstanding. I’m talking about which plan. It’s alright - who do you think I am? I can give you whatever you’d like as compensation. A smart man such as yourself is worth quite a lot. I can even make you my right-hand man.”

That was the truth.

The nobles who he associated with were content with just indulging themselves in the desires before their eyes. There was no need to talk about the future with people like that. But the man before his eyes, Froaude…

“Try as you might, you are just as dim witted as the other nobles.”

“…Wh… what are you…”

Staelied stopped. Froaude’s expression had changed…

His lips, red as a trail of blood, opened.

“Have you already forgotten what I rudely said before?” Froaude asked. “Our respectful and affectionate king is too kind for enemies. When the worms of the nobility wiggle before him, he wants to do something to save them. Even though I would kill them as soon as possible for him, he wants to let a stunted people like you live. That is why I must always kneel on the ground beside him and crush you worms.”

Bloodlust spouted from him so strongly that even Staelied who was never a military man understood.

W-was he going to kill him!?

Staelied couldn’t take a single step away. It was like he was paralyzed.

“W-what are you…”

Miran laughed soundlessly. But Staelied could hear it.

It was the devil’s voice.

If he moved, he’d be killed. If he spoke, he’d be killed. If he opposed him he’d be killed.

Staelied was full of regret.

He’d been wrong. Completely wrong. They weren’t the same type of person at all. What on earth had he called out…?

He was truly… a demon…

Froaude spoke, detached. “You wanted to compensate me with what I desire, did you not? But it is impossible for you. Sion Astal is the only one who can turn my desire into a reality. Only he, with both his strengths and his weaknesses, can become the true king. Only he can conquer the entire continent of Menoris.”

A-all of Menoris… what was this man saying…? Did he truly intend to engulf the whole world in war…?

“I will ask you the same,” Froaude said. “What do you intend to do? Between the mastermind standing behind you who has not yet shown their form… and my king… Let us decide soon for the sake of your life. Before the rebellion in Estabul is quelled…”

Froaude suddenly smiled meanly. It wasn’t the blood curdling smile from early. It was simply a cold, emotionless smile…

Staelied’s body snapped out of its paralysis. He could now move, but his whole body was covered in cold sweat and exhausted. It was such a severe exhaustion that he wasn’t sure how his knees didn’t collapse on the spot.

“I sincerely thank you for your good advice,” Froaude said. “I will now excuse myself.”

With that, he rejoined the pro-monarchy crowd.

Staelied watched him in shock. He knew he’d gotten tangled up in a spider’s web. Froaude had gone out of his way to stand away from the rest of the pro-monarchy party to make himself easier to contact…

Staelied thought back to what Froaude had said.

“Let us decide soon for the sake of your life. Before the rebellion in Estabul is quelled…”

He did not understand what that meant. He had to consider it a while longer.

---

It was an old castle different from Rolands. It was a bit dirty all around, and all in all its only redeeming feature was its spaciousness. Well… it wasn’t really on the same scale as a castle at all, really. It was one of many forts created to guard Estabul from Roland during the war.

A girl was in one of the fort’s rooms.

Noa Ehn. Princess of the late Kingdom of Estabul. She had been the sole successor to the throne.

She spoke in a clear voice. “So? Where is my father the king now?”

When she raised her head her beautiful hair, so dark blue that it was almost black, wavered. She had strong, resolute blue eyes that one wouldn’t think belonged to a girl of only seventeen. She inherited her radiantly handsome face from her late mother, who was said to be the most beautiful woman in all of Estabul. Noa had the same grace and dignity as her a generation later.

In order to make her fit for this harsh place, Noa, who was the only successor to the throne that Estabul was ever blessed with, had decided to education for the ruling despite being a woman for Estabul’s sake.

In the end, she was going to be made to be king…

The man she considered her most trusted confidant answered her question. “His Majesty is currently using his status as a noble in Roland to butter the enemy up. Sooner or later he will find a chance and make an ally out of them.”

She smiled. “You would tell me a lie like that…? Sarawel…”

The man she’d called Sarawel’s only answer was a shrug. He was in the later half of his twenties and the noble she’d known the longest. He was a clever man who’d graduated at the top of his class in the Royal Academy and was a son of the noble Sayle family.

Now it was his turn to ask. “Then how would you say it?”

“…How would I? Let me see… ‘Your father easily sold our country to Roland in exchange for our safety and social status as Rolanders. Is it alright if I say it like that? But I did not think you would worry about him now after so long.’” Noa shook her head lightly at her own words. “It isn’t… that I’m particularly worried. I have never been very close to my father. After my mother’s death he was always busy here and there despite his age… I just think that the people of Estabul might be happier if my father was leading this rebellion instead of a woman like me.”

Sarawel raised his head. “Lady Noa, I hadn’t noticed your thoughtfulness… but our people and nobility say they adore you. The word on the streets is that your wisdom will soon make you a good king…”

Noa smiled bitterly. “Did you not spread that yourself?”

“If it were not the truth, then it wouldn’t have taken no matter how much I tried to spread it,” Sarawel said without an ounce of shyness. Estabul has been lying in wait, wishing for a true king.”

“…So you did do it,” Noa said with a small smile. It soon changed to a tired smile. It might be the last time they shared pleasantries like this… Noa’s expression stiffened.

Sarawel noticed and spoke kindly. “Are you scared, Princess?”

“Scared?” Noa looked to Sarawel, then closed her eyes. “I am… The nobility convinced me to accept this position as leader of the rebellion, but what if we can’t win against Roland? What will happen then?”

“We will win,” Sarawel said sincerely. “We won’t lose against Roland, which used vicious methods against us.”

“Vicious? But have they not by and large left our people unharmed? Is fighting them really necessary?”

“Of course. Estabul’s legacy is being snuffed out by Roland’s hand—”

“Sarawel,” Noa interrupted. “I don’t care about countries. What is the difference in a world where a country called Estabul exists compared to one where it does not? The people are more important. So will this truly make the people happy? Is this fight truly necessary? Is it not just needless bloodshed?” Noa opened her eyes and gazed at Sarawel. “If it allows our people to grow happy, then I do not mind. You’re the one who taught me that, are you not? Sarawel.”

He considered it for a moment. “Your thought process is correct. Even so, Princess. We must fight here and now.”

“……”

“It is because we are powerful that Roland has left us unharmed. They respect Estabul’s people. But what of next time? What about after Roland takes all of Estabul’s power for itself? Roland will likely start to tyrannize our people then, won’t they? They’ll discriminate against us. If they are truly heartless, they’ll enslave us. That is what people and countries do. They want to push others down below themselves. The nobility does it to commoners and commoners do it to slaves. And Roland’s nobility does not have a very good reputation, so this conjecture may turn into reality. So us nobles who think of our people must act now while we still have the power to do so.”

Noa listened wordlessly. She didn’t speak for a while even after he was done. She understood the weight of the key she held. It was the heavy key to people’s lives…

“…Sarawel… if you say it, then it surely the case. That has been the case until now… and it seems that I have been given control over a great many lives - that of our people, our soldiers, our countrymen…”

“They do not balk at the idea of death if it is for your sake.”

Those were the words she hated most.

She didn’t want to become king or anything of the sort.

A king’s job was to weight the lives of people, saving the heavier lives and cutting down those who were lighter. She’d learned that from Sarawel.

Even if she didn’t want to do it, she had to. It was to save as many of Estabul’s people as possible…

She stood. When she did, Sarawel made to open the door…

It opened slowly but surely. On the other side were many nobles and military leaders who revered her as king.

And furthermore, she’d engulf her people and soldiers in the real flames of war…

“Soldiers, raise your heads. Muster your courage. We are going to save our people. We are going to revive Estabul’s legacy. We are just, and this is a fight we will win. Will you trust and follow me?”

She was engulfed in screams of approval. Noa cast her eyes downward for a moment before raising her head. Her resolute eyes had lost their hesitation, and she stood as a goddess of war might.

She exhaled, then spoke once again. “Then let us invade Roland.”

And so the war began…

---

Sion sat in a daze in the throne of the empty palace of Roland.

The ceilings were decorated beautifully, but one wouldn’t notice unless they looked up. Sion was gazing at the winged angels and the demons aiming for them.

He just continued to stare and stare.

“Don’t… die,” he whispered softly to himself.

Many people would die. That was an unmistakable fact.

Because this was war. Even though they’d tried so hard to avoid war with Estabul…

People like Ryner and Kiefer had payed for that with the wounds on their hearts… Tyle, Tony, Falhe, and many many others had payed for that with their lives and allowed them to avoid war with Estabul… and yet…

In the end, it’d happened.

“…That Froaude…”

Sion shook his head as he said it. No, that was wrong. It was because he too thought this war was correct that he didn’t stop Froaude, right? And as if to excuse it to himself he ordered Claugh to subjugate Estabul instead of Froaude.

Of course he already understood that this was the sort of path he was walking. But… he couldn’t leave the subjugation to Froaude. Because if he could save even the smallest thing, then he wanted to do so.

He wasn’t being hypocritical. Froaude used his own methods, as did Claugh. All sorts of methods were necessary…

“…I should also have… methods of my own…”

But even so, people would die. Not just one or two people, either.

People died on his orders. But he had to decide. Was the left or the right heavier? Which lives were more important?

Claugh was already headed out to subjugate Estabul’s army.

“Claugh too… will have to kill again…”

Sion closed his eyes.

How many times had these kinds of things already happened…

When he opened his eyes again, he yelped. “Uwah!?”

Something had appeared before him. A woman… no, a girl whose presence he hadn’t felt at all had appeared and was now staring at Sion from her place dangling from the angel and devil ornaments on the ceiling, surprising him like always.

The palace was so heavily guarded that a single rat shouldn’t have been able to enter, nevermind a girl. And yet in spite of the guards, there she was hanging from the ceiling, her unbelievably beautiful face scrunched up in suspense. “Hey, hey, hey, um, umm, Iris has been watching you for a while now from that pillar over there, then from behind the throne, then from up here on the ceiling, sneeeakily watching you, so are you gonna cry? Are you gonna cry?”

She had beautiful blonde hair and a dress covered in frills, complete with a backpack that didn’t quite fit her look.

Sion covered his face with his hands. “Ugh… how uncool… you’re telling me that you’ve been wandering around watching me in my time of worry all this time?”

Iris beamed. “Yeah! You make lots of funny faces! Like the kind of crying face you see in picture books, right!? That’s the first time Iris has seen that kind of expression in real life! ‘Cause, ‘cause Ferris doesn’t do things like cry and instead of crying, Lucile’s always smiling to the point that it’s scary…” Iris’ adorable face scrunched up in disgust.

Sion smiled. “Ah, Lucile certainly is scary.”

Really, how scary he was wasn’t what they should be making a fuss over…

Ferris and Iris’ older brother was the current head of the swordsman family that’d guarded Roland’s king through the generations, the Eris family. But ‘guard’ might be a bit of a misleading statement. In truth their duty was to think of protecting the country regardless of its king’s life.

Lucile would probably kill Sion as soon as he decided he was unfit to be king, and no one would be able to stop him. He was a true monster…

Well, Erises like Ferris and Iris had their cute points, but… due to undergoing the endless strict training of the Eris family from a young age, they lacked common sense…

Like having never seen anyone cry.

No matter how hard things were, how sad they were, they didn’t cry. It wasn’t allowed. No, they probably didn’t even know feelings that brought people to tears like that existed. That was the kind of place the Eris house was.

According to Ferris, they didn’t even know how to live with other people outside the family…

Iris wasn’t as bad as Ferris, but still…

Sion looked at Iris kindly and beckoned her over. “How long are you going to hang from the ceiling? Come here.”

Iris took a mysterious expression. “Huh? You’re not gonna cry? Iris was expecting good things of you and waited. Do you think you could make yourself do it?”

“You want to make me cry?”

“Yeah! Because because crying relieves st… st… st-something or other and makes you feel better! A book I read with my sister said so!”

She said that without a care in the world. Sion’s face turned troubled. “Stress, huh… well, whatever. Listen, boys can’t cry when other people are looking.”

Iris looked surprised. “What!? Really!? Then is Iris getting in the way of your crying!?”

“Huh? No, I never intended on crying…”

Iris pointed her finger far away, waving it around. “Then then Iris will go over there, okay? Over there! So cry lots and lots, okay?” Iris said and leapt over with movements one wouldn’t believe belonged to a ten year old and disappeared into the shadows, her eyes sneakily watching him all that was left…

Sion sighed. Iris’ eyes were shining with pure excitement. “Will this not end until I cry…?”

Iris ignored his remark but whispered loudly back. “Are you ready? Iris is all prepared. It’s okay to cry now.”

Sion couldn’t help looking at Iris’ eyes. She stared and stared unblinkingly. Slowly, Sion’s eyes reluctantly…

“Oh! Did you see that!? I saw it! You just cried! Iris knows, see! Because my sister also told me that boys can’t cry when people are watching!”

Sion watched Iris run in circles merrily, then wiped at the tears spilling from his eyes and smiled, finally getting to the point. “So, Iris. Did you bring the report from Ryner and Ferris?”

“Yeah! I did good and brought it! Here,” she said then dug a notepad out from her backpack and handed it to Sion. He took it and opened it to… of course… a report written - or rather, drawn - in Irisese.

Sion set to asking his questions one by one. “So what’s this drooling dog?”

“That’s the Beast! He’s all like grrrr, scary! If you touch that sex maniac’s drool you’ll immediately become pregnant! My sister said so!”

Sion nodded easily. “Ah, you mean Ryner.” He was already completely used to this. “So the winged angel who’s collared him and is having him pull the sled is Ferris?”

“Yeah! My angel of a sister, Ferris, who rewards good and punishes evil!”

When he turned the page, the drawings of the just angel hitting the evil beast continued. “Ah, it looks like they’re enjoying themselves as always,” Sion said, smiling bitterly, flipping through the pages. His hand stopped on the incomprehensible drawing on the sixth page. It was as bizarre as ever.

Last time she’d drawn a house flying with incredible vigor from the ocean into the sun, and its sequel was just as incredibly separated from reality.

This time…

“Hm. Iris, what is this?”

Iris came to look. She pointed at the incomprehensible drawing where a dragon had sprouted from the ground, the beast and angel just watching it in astonishment.

“So this one, right? This is the Beast and my sister watching the dragon that sprouted from the ground in awe!”

“No, I understand the dog and the angel. I was more of wondering about this dragon.” The picture from before with the sun, the sea, and the flying houses did end up having various meanings. The sun was Nelpha’s king, the sea was the people, and the flying house was the prince the people supported. So this dragon should have meaning of its own as well. “What does this dragon mean?”

Iris tilted her head, troubled. “Um, see, well, it’s a dragon? A Mr. Dragon. He was seriously huge.”

“…No, I’m asking…” Sion’s words trailed off as he thought about it. “No, let me ask that a different way. Did Ryner say anything about this dragon?”

“Ah, he did! So he was digging and then he excavated something but he didn’t get it so he threw it and then the dragon was born, but he didn’t really know what to do with it so he ran away!”

Sion narrowed his eyes. “A relic,” he mumbled happily.

But Iris looked anxious. “Uh, um, if Iris didn’t her information stuff right, will you get mad? But but, the Beast said it was fine…”

Sion shook his head. “Don’t worry. You did your information relay work just fine.”

“Really!? I wonder if my sister will praise me?”

“She’ll praise you, she’ll praise you.”

“Yaay! Geez, Iris, you sure are a genius!” Iris said and jumped around happily. A smile rose to Sion’s face as he watched her.

“I see… so the relics really do exist… but geez, those two…”

Sion smiled bitterly and flipped the page. There, the angel was swinging her sword around, and the sleepy dog was being chased around by a girl whose face was the only thing sticking out of a pink trash can. Then the dog finally had enough and ate and killed the sly fox…

Sion smiled. The sly fox was always Sion.

Then the girl whose face was sticking out from the trashcan was probably…

“So they finally caught him… heheh. I bet Ryner was mad,” Sion said, looking terribly happy. He decided to ask about the girl in the pink trash can and see.

“So it’s like this, see! My sister said she met the pervert when they were kids and he threw her away like she was smelly garbage, so that’s why she’s in a trash can! And the inside of her head’s all pink!”

Sion really felt that Iris was able to fit an amazing amount of information into these drawings of hers.

But anyway.

“You must be tired after coming here all the way from Nelpha. You should rest some. Is there anything you want to eat?”

“Dango! Because my sister praises me when I eat it!”

Sion smiled. Thanks to Iris, he was feeling a little less depressed. But right then—

“Your Majesty!”

A lone man who Sion recognized easily entered the hall. He had an intense and deeply wrinkled face, though he was really only a man of about thirty. He’d made great contributions to the revolution, and he walked in briskly.

Lieutenant General Rahel Miller… or at least he should’ve been. But he’d rejected that promotion - “I don’t need you to help me rise through the world. Besides, there’s still work that needs done here.” And with that, he remained a major. That’s the kind of person he was.

Right now, his expression was bitter and harsh as always. He spoke in a low voice that revertibrated well. “We have received information regarding the matter from before…”

Miller held out a document. Sion took it. His expression changed in an instant. “It can’t be… Is this reliable information…?”

Miller nodded. “The information is from him. You know of him well, do you not?”

Sion groaned and turned his eyes back to the document. Something unbelievable was written there. “Just what is happening here…?”

Iris peaked at the document. “What is it, what is it?”

Sion didn’t answer her question. “Iris. What are Ryner and Ferris doing right now?”

“Huh? They said they were gonna wait in a Nelphan town while they waited for you to contact them again…”

Sion nodded.

Then…

---

Ryner lay with his head down on a table, exhausted to the bone and unable to do anything else.

He was currently in a large Nelphan city called Lancas.

He’d gotten up late and had just eaten lunch, and thanks to his fullness, he was being attacked by a powerful sleepiness. “Geez, I only just woke up and I’m already tired. It’s ‘cause I’ve been moving around too much lately…”

“Moved too much?” Ferris said. “Am I imagining things, or are you saying that after we’ve been here for three whole days?”

“Noo, it’s not your imagination. But it’s only a three day long break. Ahh, this is bad. I feel tired when I say stuff like that. I might die if I don’t get another hundred years of this…”

Ferris looked like she was about to make light of Ryner’s hardships, but that’s not what came out of her mouth. “Oh, I have to go. The dango shop has a special sale starting at three today. We’ll miss it if we don’t hurry.”

“Hey, haven’t you gone to some dango special sale or other every day we’ve been here?”

“Mhm. There’s always a special sale at three in this city, so I continue to buy it. I’ll still be going in one hundred years without fail, even if my body is rotting away.”

“Ahh~ That sounds like a happy life too. Eating dango’s nice. It’d be nice if things could continue like this without any messages from Sion…”

That was the sort of conversation they’d been having. Not conversations about the dragon and the heroic relic they’d left…

“I’ll be going then.”

“Get me the kind with the three colors, would ya?”

“Mm,” Ferris said and left.

Ryner yawned again, and not minding how much of a bother he was being to the inn’s owner, slept right there.

They were peaceful days.

Even so, the gears were turning, each hiding their own motives.

Many destinies were intersecting…

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