Genius Prince’s National Revitalization from State Deficit ~ Right, Let Us Sell the Country - Book 8: Chapter 3

The old capital of Lushan was a city situated in the heart of the West. It was the location where Levetia, the founder of the religion, received a revelation from God to embark on a pilgrimage. Obeying this epiphany, Levetia circled the continent once, spreading God’s Word and gaining converts. With these new followers, the leader founded the city of Lushan, which became the crux of the religion. It was the heart of the Western continent both geographically and spiritually.

In the present day, Lushan and the surrounding area were treated not as a part of a country, but as a vicinity directly under Levetia’s control.

“—The townscape is surprisingly average,” Ninym murmured as she stared out the window of the swaying carriage.

“Yeah, it’s pretty behind on the times, but it really does feel like your typical Western city,” replied her carriage mate, Wein.

It wasn’t strange, though. Lushan was the standard for Western architectural design. In other words, other Western cities were copies of Lushan, not the other way around.

“The vibe in the city feels different,” Wein pointed out.

“Yes. It’s almost eerily solemn and quiet… Its population is large, but most of them wear the Circles, and many are pious believers.”

The Circles were a symbol of Levetia that devout followers wore around their necks. Primarily made of metal, they consisted of two perfectly round, interconnected circles, each about the size of one’s palm. One represented God’s completeness while the other represented a continent where the word of Levetia reached every corner.

“From what I can tell, there are just as many pilgrims as locals. Makes sense since they set up a million roads to make sure these trips are easy to navigate.”

“Yes, most of the Western nations do have a direct path to Lushan,” Ninym added.

“That’s because the city doesn’t seem to cultivate many crops. Even the heart of Levetia is bound to dry up if it’s hard to get through these parts.” Wein looked at the worshippers outside the window. “Anyway, it impresses me that they can bear to wear those Circles all the time. They must have so many knots in their shoulders.”

“Just so you know, you might want to consider wearing one at the Gathering, too, Wein.”

“…Do they have any light, wood ones?”

“That wouldn’t befit His Royal Highness, now would it?”

Wein grumbled, “Yeah, I guess.” The carriage arrived in the heart of Lushan. They were greeted by an enormous plaza, and an even larger building lorded over it.

The Agency of the Holy King. The central pillar of Levetia. All who looked upon it were overcome with awe by its stonemasonry and an undeniable presence. Even the palace couldn’t match its magnificence.

“Well, I better go in the lair of demons for a formal greeting. Ninym, stay with Falanya at the inn they reserved for us.”

The headquarters of Levetia. Even if her hair was dyed black, this was no place a Flahm like Ninym could easily enter.

“Be careful, Wein.”

“If worst comes to worst, I’ll set it on fire and make my escape.”

Wein left Ninym and stepped out of the carriage. Together with several guards, he entered the Agency of the Holy King.

…Well, would ya look at that.

The place had an austere atmosphere. There was no gold or silver or lavish ornamentation anywhere to be seen. The ceiling was as tall as several people, and the cold stone walls that seemingly continued into forever felt unreal.

It was like being lost in another world.

Streams of people came and went through its doors. They wore simple habits and silently walked with their heads held high. One could say they were paragons of Levetia, but their lack of humanity made them seem more like life-size dolls.

I wasn’t joking when I called this place a “lair of demons.”

Was it always like this, or was it the current ruler’s influence? Just as Wein realized he’d have to brace himself—

“It’s been quite some time, Crown Prince.”

A chill ran up his spine. When he turned toward the voice, he was met by a woman standing there with her retinue. She was ravishing. Her hair shimmered, and her eyes were as deep as the abyss. With features that were a mix between the charm of a young woman and the vitality of a little girl, it was hard to believe she was even of this earth.

“What a surprise…I’m honored Lady Caldmellia would welcome me herself.”

The director of Levetia’s Gospel Bureau, Caldmellia. A woman who was a force to be reckoned with, second only to the Holy Elites.

And now, she was standing right before Wein.

“You are a guest of honor who has kindly accepted our invitation. Such hospitality is only natural.”

Caldmellia smiled sweetly. From her grin to her gaze, every part of this woman hid both a mystique and repulsiveness incongruent to her holy profession.

“Is this your first time visiting Lushan? What do you think of the old capital?”

“As one might expect of Levetia’s birthplace, it has a stately and refined atmosphere.”

“Ha-ha. It must seem that way for outsiders, but it’s far more relaxed than usual. It has been quite a while since the Gathering of the Chosen was last held in Lushan, and the citizens are in a festive mood.”

“This is festive? If I were to visit Lushan on a normal day, I fear I might suffocate from its stiff formalities.”

“You will grow accustomed to it, Prince Wein… At any rate, I’ll be in trouble if I force our guest of honor to stand around chatting any longer. Please, come this way. Someone is waiting for you.”

There was no need to ask who that “someone” was. Guided by Caldmellia, Wein and his guards continued farther into the structure.

“I’m relieved to see you appear no different from our last meeting, Lady Caldmellia.”

“By God’s good grace, yes—I’m in good health.”

According to records, Caldmellia was over sixty years old, though she appeared to be in her thirties. Even her twenties wouldn’t be a stretch. There was talk that this Caldmellia was someone else who had inherited the name. Either way, the word “monster” fit her terrifyingly well.

“Please forgive me if this comes across as rude, but do you have a secret to good health?”

“By living life. A satisfactory life is the key to youth and vitality.”

“That’s not an answer I would expect from a follower of Levetia.”

“Repressing your needs is not the only way to show loyalty to God. King Gruyere is a great example of this.”

“…Yes, I see.” Wein found himself nodding as she cited Gruyere’s paunch. “And what brings you joy, Lady Caldmellia?”

“Guiding lost sheep who have gone astray,” she replied. “It’s fulfilling when my words set them on the right path.”

“…I’m certain your guidance brings them days of utmost bliss, Lady Caldmellia.”

“I hope so.”

Their conversation was temporarily interrupted. Cold footsteps echoed as if manifestations of the air between them. Caldmellia was the first to break the silence.

“It seems that you have really come into your own, Your Highness.”

“Do you think so? I feel like I’ve been collecting problems since becoming regent, so I was worried I might be crushed under the pressure.”

“With your accomplishments, I imagine you’d be able to stand up straight with pride…though it has inflated your ego.”

“My accomplishments? I’ve just been lucky to keep up with the times.”

Wein shrugged his shoulders, but Caldmellia shook her head.

“There are too many people to count who find it impossible to keep up. Natra is blessed to have you at its head during this tumultuous time.”

“Well, it’s too early to say whether that is actually a blessing,” Wein replied. “After all, our time will see even greater turbulence in the future. Whether I am remembered as Natra’s savior or a quack doctor who only managed to keep his dying nation afloat a little while longer…will only be determined once everything is over.”

“I see… You’re quite right.”

“That is to say nothing of the tidal wave approaching us imminently.”

Caldmellia brushed off Wein’s sarcasm with a smile. “Shall I offer a hand if you’re drowning, Your Highness?”

“While I appreciate the gesture, the waters might suck you in, too.”

“Hee-hee, drowning with you, Prince, might make things interesting.”

With this, the group arrived at a large door. When Caldmellia’s subordinate opened it, an expansive room, the throne within it, and the person sitting atop it came into view.

“—Your Holiness, Prince Wein has arrived.”

Upon hearing her introduction, the figure broke out of a deep meditation.

This is…

Holy King Silverio. The man sitting at the pinnacle of both the Holy Elites and the Levetia religion was right there.

“Come forward, Crown Prince.”

At Caldmellia’s insistence, Wein stepped farther into the audience chamber, mentally taking note of Silverio. From what he could tell, the Holy King was up there in years. He had a small frame, and his hands were withered. His eyes were clouded white, presumably from age, and the cane at hand nearby indicated that his legs were not what they once were. Wein worried he might be crushed by the weight of his robes, and his overall impression of the king was one of frailty.

From what I heard, he’s the type to eat and drink nothing for a month, praying for citizens who have fallen victim to disaster or persuading a group of bandits by marching into their den himself. In fact, there’s talk going around that he’s a puppet and Caldmellia is behind all this…

Caldmellia walked ahead to stand by the Holy King’s side, and Wein understood something after seeing them next to each other. On one side was the youthful Caldmellia, and on the other was Holy King Silverio, who was more decaying branch than human. Anyone would agree that it looked like the witch was sucking the life out of the Holy King.

Wein’s heart didn’t lower its guard for a second, however.

After all, he carries the most precious blood in the entire world.

Compared to most of the other Holy Elites who were royalty, Silverio was a Holy King who held no secular position. Without the titles of Holy King and Holy Elite, he would be an average clergyman. Even if such a thing were to hypothetically happen, however, Silverio would never be treated like a normal person for the rest of his days. This was because Silverio was a descendent of Levetia—the founder of their religion.

I’m not one to talk, but I do find it impressive that this bloodline has been tracked so meticulously for a century.

To become a Holy Elite, one of the conditions was that one must be blood-related to either the founder, Levetia, or one of the leading disciples—people of the distant past. Genealogy was a complex and obscure matter, and it wasn’t rare for some to use power and money to keep this title in the family. A majority of the present Holy Elites had no definitive proof of their actual blood relations.

Among them, Wein and Silverio were the odd exceptions who could clearly trace back their roots. Of course, their statuses were worlds apart since Wein was just a descendent of a lead disciple, while Silverio was a descendent of their founder.

All generations of Silverio’s family were born, raised, and served as clergy in Lushan. Many of them were appointed not just as Holy Elites but later as Holy Kings.

If a Holy Elite with a secular position becomes a Holy King, it grants a substantial amount of power to their home country. It seems like in many cases, Silverio’s family—who don’t have titles or land—would become Holy Kings, to prevent a single country from getting an unfair advantage. As a result, they have produced many Holy Kings.

It was no mistake to think their elevated status was intentional. Wein himself placed no stock in bloodlines, but he knew the public thought they were worth something. Silverio’s family must have believed the same thing. That was why they spent long months and years trying to increase the value of their blood.

Now standing next to each other was a descendant from this shrewd family and the witch who relished sending people to their doom. Anyone who could relax at this point would also probably feel comfortable napping in front of a starving tiger.

“…It’s an honor to meet you, Your Holiness. I’ve come from Natra to accept your generous invitation to the Gathering of the Chosen.”

As Wein gave his textbook greeting, he peered at Silverio. The Holy King gave no reaction. Both his eyes and ears seemed very distant, and he suddenly turned to Caldmellia and whispered something. Wein couldn’t catch it, but she gave him a small nod.

“His Holiness welcomes you.”

It wasn’t at all rare for statesmen to maintain a degree of separation and an air of mystery by refusing to speak directly to their vassals and citizens. In this case, however, it was likely because raising his voice was too exhausting for someone Silverio’s age.

It’s hard to get a read on him. I wanna learn more about this Holy King, but— Wein was deep in thought.

“The Gathering of the Chosen will commence the day after tomorrow. Until then, please rest from your travels in the residence we have provided.”

They were apparently eager to end the conversation, and Wein mentally clucked his tongue in irritation.

“Thank you for your consideration. Before I take my leave, however, I wish to confirm something with His Holiness: the true reason I’ve been called to this conference.”

Wein cut straight to the heart of the matter, but Caldmellia answered as if she’d been expecting him to bring this up.

“As mentioned in His Holiness’s personal missive, the precursor to turmoil currently hangs over Varno. We do not know when the disturbance in the Empire will spread to the West. We wish to discuss how to deal with this matter during the Gathering and have thus invited you, Prince Wein, to hear about your insight on the Empire and seek guidance.”

“…I understand now.” Wein stole a glance at the Holy King once again, but Silverio didn’t move a muscle. He apparently couldn’t hope to see any voluntary reactions.

Should I try provoking him…?

He was several steps away from the Holy King’s throne. There were a limited number of guards. If Wein wanted to, he could get right up in Silverio’s face. He’d be able to read whether the king took on a look of confusion, fear, anger—anything.

I can’t secure a disposal method or an escape route here, so it would be unrealistic to do something about the Holy King, but if I took a step toward him—

What would happen then?

As soon as the thought crossed Wein’s mind, a naked blade came at his throat.

“ !” Wein instinctively took a step back.

“Whatever is the matter, Prince Wein?” Caldmellia tilted her head with a puzzled expression, and it was then that Wein realized there was no knife to be found.

You’ve gotta be kidding…

Her presence was so strong that he’d imagined a knife was flying at him.

It wasn’t Caldmellia who had done this. Wein’s behavior confused the guards around him. The only one to remain still as stone…was the Holy King.

Feeling sweat drip down the side of his temple, Wein gave a tight-lipped smile. “…Worry not. It seems I’m just a bit fatigued from the journey.”

Holy King Silverio. He was not a foe to be underestimated.

“In that case, you ought to rest at the estate. I shall ready a carriage immediately.”

“Thank you. It would be unfortunate if I were to catch cold and be unable to attend the Gathering.”

“Both His Holiness and I look forward to hearing your honest opinion, Prince Wein.”

“I have nothing to offer, but I shall try my best to meet your expectations. —Well then, if you’ll excuse me.”

Wein bowed to the Holy King and Caldmellia before turning on his heel. He soon disappeared behind the door.

“…Mellia.”

Without missing a beat, Caldmellia waited upon Silverio and strained to hear his raspy voice.

“Will this individual help our flower bloom?”

“Without question.”

“I see…” Silverio murmured. “A great flower to swallow up this land… It’s sure to be beautiful.”

“I promise to show it to you, Your Holiness.”

Silverio’s clouded eyes seemed to gaze into the distance, and Caldmellia gave a respectful bow.

“I just wanna go hoooooooome!” Wein shrieked in one of the rooms of the manor allotted to him, after safely returning from the Agency of the Holy King.

“We can’t leave yet. We just got here, and the Gathering hasn’t even started yet.”

Ninym’s typical dismissal of his comments only encouraged Wein to continue.

“Obviously! But Caldmellia will always be bad news, and I got a feeling that the Holy King is, too. With the two of them attending the Gathering, it’ll spell the worst news of the year! We’ve hit max suckage levels, and I’m screwed if I don’t show up! What did I do to deserve this?!”

“I thought I heard you say, Don’t you underestimate me, Caldmellia, on the way here.”

“Let’s just pretend I didn’t!”

“No take-backs.”

“Gweh,” Wein groaned. “Come to think of it, what’s Falanya up to?”

“She went to bed early to prepare for the party tomorrow. The princess is fretting about going in your place and doing a job that’ll please you.”

Ninym broke into a tiny smile, and Wein grinned wryly.

“She doesn’t have to get that worked up over it. Well, at least Falanya’s not running into any problems. I can just focus on the Gathering.”

A knock came at the door. A servant.

“Your Highness, there is a messenger from Prince Tigris in front of the estate. He wishes to meet with you.”

Wein and Ninym immediately looked at each other.

“Understood. Let him in.”

It didn’t take long for the servant to return with the messenger.

“I am Fushto. I serve Master Tigris.”

The messenger in front of Wein bowed down. He had to be one of the people who had waited on Tigris when they met the other day.

“I have come to deliver both a spoken message and a letter to you, Prince Wein.”

“I’m listening.”

Fushto’s gaze turned to Ninym nearby.

“She’s my Heart. There’s no reason for her to leave,” Wein said.

“My apologies, but Master Tigris’s message is of utmost importance.”

“Then I definitely need her here.”

“……” Fushto grimaced, and Wein glared at him.

“If you can’t respect my decision, then get out. And tell Prince Tigris that our alliance is done.”

“…My apologies. I spoke out of turn. Please forgive me.”

Tigris himself might not have had the same reaction, but Fushto was a servant. When Wein threatened to annul the partnership, the man had no choice but to comply. Fushto pulled out a letter from his breast pocket and handed it to Ninym. The wax seal was unmistakably Velancia’s, and inside was a message from Tigris and a map.

“Tomorrow evening, he has arranged for a meeting with a third party at an abandoned manor outside the city as indicated on the map. The contents of the letter state the same thing.”

“Oh, this is the individual I’ve been hearing about. Who is it?”

“I’m sorry. I am not privy to that information.”

“Prince Tigris loves secrets, it seems. Anyway, tell him I understand.”

“Yes, of course.” Fushto bowed once and quickly left the room to report to his master. After they watched him leave, Ninym mumbled quietly, breaking her silence. “…You didn’t have to be so stubborn.”

“I wasn’t being stubborn. I was stating the obvious.”

This made Ninym look happy but troubled. She coughed and quickly returned to her normal self. “So you have a secret meeting tomorrow?”

“Seems that way. Who do you think this third person is, Ninym?”

She thought for a moment. “Most likely another Holy Elite…but it’s not King Gruyere apparently, and Prince Miroslav is backing King Skrei, so it couldn’t be him either.”

“And if you take out Tigris, that leaves us with the Holy King, Steel, or Agata.”

“Since His Holiness already has power, I doubt he’d go along with such an underhanded scheme. That leaves either Duke Steel or Representative Agata. You’ve caught Duke Steel’s eye, right, Wein?”

Wein looked queasy. “I’m not thrilled about that, but yeah, apparently… Ugh, I don’t wanna team up with Steel. Maybe Skrei came up to Tigris out of nowhere and shook things up.”

“If we’re just speculating, I wonder if Prince Miroslav will also do something. He might give up on King Skrei if he’s less compliant than expected.”

“If he’s looking to replace Skrei, wouldn’t Miroslav come to me himself? Or maybe he thinks it’ll be hard to back me on his own, since I’m not someone who abides by the rules like Skrei. In that case, if we team up… Hmm.”

Wein crossed his arms and groaned. After all, he was up against the Holy Elites. These guys could put on sunny smiles in front of their constituents even as a laundry list of machinations were in their heads. It would be no surprise if someone out of left field was waiting for him.

“Who do you hope it is?”

“Doesn’t matter to me as long as they’ll hear me out and aren’t a pain to deal with.”

“And who would that be?”

“No one…”

Her master’s listlessness put a tiny smile on Ninym’s face.

“And what if it was Director Caldmellia?” she asked.

“I’d go home,” Wein answered without missing a beat.

He really isn’t a fan, she thought to herself.

“Well, not even Tigris would think of joining forces with her. It’s hard to be friends with a person who will never be swayed by logic or data.”

“Well, at any rate, should we look further into our main suspects—Duke Steel and Representative Agata—while we wait for tomorrow night?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

With Wein’s permission, Ninym quickly set off to gather the necessary documents.

Early the next morning.

“…Nngh.”

In her room in the mansion, Falanya woke up a bit earlier than usual. Her waking time wasn’t the only part that was different. It usually took her a while to shake off the last vestiges of sleep, but the princess was different today. She smacked her cheeks with both hands, firmly shrugged off the tempting invitation of her soft bed to sleep in, and ran out of her bedchamber.

“Good morning, Princess Falanya. You’re looking well this morning.”

“Of course. After all, I have an important job to do today,” she responded with a proud sniff as her lady-in-waiting helped her get dressed.

She would be mingling with the continent’s most influential people in place of her brother. Falanya had enjoyed similar opportunities since her experience in Mealtars, but she had the same reaction every time.

“You’ll run out of steam if you get too worked up.”

Once she was dressed and the lady-in-waiting had taken her leave, Nanaki appeared out of nowhere.

“Don’t worry, I slept well. Nerves and excitement didn’t stop me from getting a good night’s rest!”

She wasn’t bluffing either. She’d never felt better, and her heart was burning with passion. Falanya was positive the day was going to be a great success.

Nanaki knew she’d crash and burn if she kept this up, even with the extra sleep. It didn’t pose much of an issue to him, however, so he stayed silent.

“Important things first, Nanaki: I’d like to confirm the schedule for today. Let’s go meet Wein.”

“Didn’t you do that last night?”

“Come on.”

She’ll find any excuse to see her brother, Nanaki thought as Falanya half dragged him.

Just as he approached Wein’s room with the princess, who was on cloud nine…

“…One sec, Falanya.”

“Huh? What’s wrong?”

Not responding to her questioning looks, Nanaki quietly cracked open the door to Wein’s room. He stood still for a few seconds before trying to shut it again.

“What is it, Nanaki?” Falanya leaned on him and tried to peek into the room. She saw Wein and Ninym, and—

“Should I add dye to the comb before I brush it?”

“Yes, but it might get on your fingers.”

“It’s no big deal. C’mon, Ninym, face the mirror.”

“Okay, okay.”

Falanya could see her brother was reapplying black dye to Ninym’s hair. The master gathered up his servant’s hair and started to comb it gently. This was something that would be absolutely forbidden in public.

“It’d be much faster if I did it myself.”

“Relax. Let me try it once.”

“Fine…”

Wein, triumphant. Ninym, embarrassed. Falanya had a feeling she shouldn’t be watching this intimate moment between the two people whom she so admired, and her cheeks flushed.

“Umm… We probably shouldn’t interrupt them.”

“Good call. Also, you’re heavy, Falanya.”

“Am not.”

As this exchange took place—

“Hey.”

“Mrwagh?!”

It didn’t take long until Wein spotted them.

“What are you doing over there? Make up your mind. If you’re going to come in, hurry up.”

“O-okay.”

Wein left no room for argument. Stiff as a board, Falanya stepped inside. Ninym had already moved from the front of the mirror to a corner of the room, and she broke out into a tiny smile when she saw Falanya. The princess whimpered under her breath.

“So do you have business with me this early in the morning, Falanya?”

“W-well, I thought I should run the schedule by you,” she replied hesitantly.

Wein nodded. “Okay. I’ll be looking over papers in the manor, and you’ll be going to the party in my place. Ninym will investigate the location of the meetup tonight.”

“What meetup tonight?” Falanya asked, tilting her head.

“Ah,” Wein said. “You went to bed early. One of Prince Tigris’s messengers stopped by yesterday. I’ll be having a chat with a third party tonight.”

Falanya had also heard that Wein would have a secret meeting with Tigris at some point, but now that it was upon them, her chest was heavy with worry.

“Will you be okay, Wein?”

“It might be dangerous, but I’d say it’s worthwhile.”

“I will do my best to confirm nothing suspicious awaits us.”

Falanya nodded at both of them. They didn’t totally dispel her fears, but she knew that she could trust them when they had set their minds on something.

“Well, that’s the gist of things. I made a list of the important people you might meet at the party, so be sure to review it. Anything else you’re worried about?”

Falanya shook her head. Wein nodded and stroked her hair.

“I’m counting on you. I’m sure you’re nervous, but I know you’ll do great.”

“Ah… Of course! I can handle it!” Falanya instantly beamed, and her energy—once depleted—seemed to spike. I’m an accomplished princess, she thought.

“So, Ninym, ready to pick up where we left off?”

“Oh, are you sure?”

“Yeah, we were in the middle of things… Hm?” Wein noticed his little sister fidgeting and looked at her quizzically. “What’s wrong, Falanya?”

“N-nothing!” Falanya shook her head and latched on to Nanaki’s arm. “That’s all I have to say, s-so if you’ll excuse me…!”

She raced out of the room like a windstorm.

“…What was that all about?”

Wein tilted his head, and Ninym observed the siblings with a gentle smile.

—Let’s get this started.

Hours after Wein and Falanya’s touching scene…

Ninym set out right on schedule and walked through the silent city. A hood fell over her eyes as she swiftly made her way to her destination—the secret meeting point. There were any number of matters that required preliminary inspection, most obviously the basic route, but she also had to check if there were any traps or anything strange at the location itself and map out an escape route just in case.

I think it’s up ahead.

The outskirts of Lushan. Although the town was still sleeping when Ninym left the manor, she could sense human activity, which weakened the closer she got to this area.

If I remember correctly, Lushan’s repeated expansion—desperate to keep up with its development—created pockets beyond the government’s control. This must be one of them.

Some of these areas became slums and places teeming with ne’er-do-wells. Even if her hair was dyed black and concealed under a hood, Ninym was still a Flahm and a woman. To avoid any unnecessary trouble, she kept a close eye on her surroundings as she hurried toward her destination.

Eventually, she arrived in front of a large, dilapidated house. It must have once been a splendid manor, but the wind and rain had left it in a horrible state. Part of the exterior was charred, and from what she could tell from the carbonization, the building must have been abandoned after an accidental fire and never demolished.

At least nothing in its surroundings seems out of place.

Just rocks and weeds. It was obvious the building had been left uninhabited for a long time. In that case, her next order of business was checking inside the mansion. Ninym slowly entered the doorless entrance and surveyed the interior.

A drafty entrance hall with corridors on both sides, some doors, a stairway, a chandelier…

The inside was in as bad shape as the outside. There were hardly any furnishings, and everything left had been partially destroyed. It was just an abandoned building.

It would be difficult to investigate this place. If it were tidy, anything suspicious would stick out, but she’d never be able to spot trouble under debris. Ninym wished she had either more time or more help, but the secret meeting was in the evening, and mobilizing a large band was bound to draw attention in this area.

“I can’t just sit around and complain.”

Ninym looked down and spotted multiple human footprints in a pile of dust. She was experienced enough to pick up the owner’s intentions from simple tracks. Some sought shelter from the wind and rain, others came in search of valuable items, and others—like hers—were the fresh marks of people investigating the manor.

Prince Tigris or the mysterious third person must have scoped this place out ahead of time.

It made sense now that she thought about it. They must have struggled with the short time frame and limited help, too. If so, then Ninym had no choice but to do the same. She picked up the pace and resumed her search.

As Wein was in the middle of his research, and Ninym was inspecting the location of the planned rendezvous…

“Haaah…” Falanya let out a pained sigh at the party in a certain manor.

“Are you okay?” Nanaki asked as he stood at attention by her side.

“Somehow…but I didn’t imagine it would be this big,” she replied listlessly.

Parties of different sizes were being hosted throughout the city to welcome the beginning of the Gathering of the Chosen. Only the Holy Elites could attend the actual conference, but they also brought along their chief vassals, who would make good connections for merchants and other people of status. The objective of the host city was to entertain these groups who had time to kill during the Gathering.

Falanya enjoyed their hospitality for the same reasons. As the younger sister of Wein—the leader of Natra—and a forerunner in her own right during the events in Mealtars, Falanya had a reputation that was spreading both domestically and abroad. In light of this, many of the continent’s most influential people had approached her, and as a result, she was completely wiped out.

“Umm, I’ve greeted forty…no, fifty people? Their names were…”

Falanya mumbled to herself as she recalled the names and faces of everyone she’d met. She had eluded the wave of people the second she had a chance to make her escape and found refuge out on the empty terrace. There was no time to rest, however. She turned her mind on full throttle and drove them into her memory.

“Huh? Umm, the name of the thirtieth person I met, the woman in the red dress, was…”

“Lady Mallory, correct?”

“That’s it!”

The one who answered her question was Falanya’s other attendant, Sirgis.

“Thanks a bunch, Sirgis. Good memory.”

“I have memorized most everyone, so call upon me if you need assistance. I believe it is easier to remember names and faces if you take note of a unique characteristic of theirs.”

“My brother said the same thing. More information means more clues, so it’s hard to forget…in theory,” Falanya moaned.

“I am honored to share a similar custom with Prince Wein, as trivial as this might be. Then again, I myself recognized quite a few familiar faces.”

Ah, Falanya thought, realization dawning on her.

Sirgis was a former prime minister. If he hadn’t fallen from power, he would have likely been invited as a guest like Falanya and enjoyed the attention of the other attendees.

But no one has approached him…

He used to be in a position of power, even if he had been demoted. It wouldn’t be strange for a close acquaintance to call out to him, but everyone at the party had their eyes on Falanya.

Sirgis smiled in self-deprecation, seeming to read her mind.

“One is not just their social statue… So what if I may be able to recall people’s faces? It took me losing everything to realize something so obvious. I keep confronting my shortcomings every day.”

“…Umm…”

As the sister of the person responsible for his misfortune, she didn’t know how to respond. Just as she wondered what she should do, two people appeared on the terrace.

“Ah, here you are, Princess Falanya.”

She straightened her posture, and her eyes widened. “Oh…Mayor Cosimo!”

“It’s been some time, Your Highness.”

One of the pair, an older gentleman, bowed politely. His name was Cosimo, the mayor of the merchant city of Mealtars, which was located at the center of the continent. Falanya had socialized with him during her previous trip there.

“Why are you here? We’re in the West,” she asked.

“Ha-ha-ha, if I failed to attend this function, it would tarnish my merchant name. Other merchants from Mealtars are on their way, it seems. And I’m officially here on holiday, so there’s no need to worry about political tensions.”

Mealtars was in Imperial territory, and Mayor Cosimo himself was a citizen of the Empire. For merchants, however, such logic was nonsense that would never help make a sale.

“I haven’t seen you in some time, Sir Sirgis. I heard you were currently serving Princess Falanya; life is full of surprises, I must say.”

Cosimo went to dip his head to Sirgis, but the latter held up a hand in refusal.

“…I am now just a vassal. There is no need to bow.”

“Why, it’s common for a market price to drop in the world of business. That’s when a merchant’s eye is tested.”

Cosimo said this with a smile before turning back to Falanya and indicating the person next to him.

“My apologies for the late introduction. My acquaintance was searching for you, Princess Falanya, so I brought him with me.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Princess Falanya,” said a young man with suntanned skin and a kind smile. “I am Felite, the leader of Patura. Your brother, Prince Wein, previously came to my aid.”

“Oh!”

Felite of Patura. She had heard the name from Wein. After a series of twists and turns, her brother had struck up a friendship with him while visiting the islands.

“I’ve heard about you for some time now, Sir Felite, but I never imagined we would meet here.”

“Prince Wein has told me about you. You’re as lovely as the rumors.”

Oh, you flatter me, she thought with a sheepish grin.

“Were you also invited to the Gathering of the Chosen, Sir Felite?”

“No, I have come to Lushan to introduce myself as the new head of Patura. Notable members of every nation have gathered here, so it’s helpful to speak with them all in one turn.”

I see, Falanya mused in understanding. She had heard his father died suddenly. His goals seemed to be very similar to her own.

“I would also like to speak with Prince Wein personally. I realize it is an impudent request, but could you ask if he might spare a few moments of his time?”

“Ask my brother?”

She couldn’t answer too quickly. Falanya would normally nod and agree without a second thought, but Wein had to focus on the Gathering, and it was her job to assist him.

“…I will gladly speak with you first. After all, my brother requested that I manage his affairs to the capacity I can.”

Falanya’s heart was racing inside. She was pushing herself out of her comfort zone. But if not here, where would she have the chance to do such a thing? Falanya had already decided she would no longer be the girl who only delivered letters to her big brother.

“…I see. It seems I have been rude,” Felite replied and stared at Falanya for a moment. He then smiled. “My apologies, Princess Falanya. I will delay the matter no further. It concerns trade between Patura and Natra.”

It was here that Cosimo, who had been silently observing them thus far, perked up. “Oh dear, would it be best if I excuse myself?”

“Not at all. This involves the Empire as well,” Felite answered before continuing. “You are aware that the products Natra purchases from the Empire are being exported to Patura, correct? These Imperial wares have become a bit of an issue in our lands.”

“Oh, d-do they have some sort of defect?”

“No, it’s the opposite. The merchandise is of excellent quality. Because of this, they have earned a good reputation among our citizens.”

Falanya thought this over for a few moments. “Umm… What might the problem be?” she asked, cocking her head.

Ever the businessman, Cosimo had years of experience that quickly led him to the answer. “…I see. This concerns money and distance, doesn’t it?”

Felite nodded. “The Imperial products are high-grade. It makes sense that the cost of transporting them—because they are coming from the Empire through Natra and traveling halfway across the continent—will be reflected in the price. Even with this in mind, however, they are so superior that the people demand them regardless.”

“That…sounds like quite a good thing to me.” Falanya still couldn’t see the issue, and it was once again Cosimo who explained things to her.

“Princess Falanya, expensive items are difficult to obtain. There will be some citizens who don’t have it. If that happened, would they give up? No, they will think, How can I get it for cheaper?”

“…Ah.” Realization finally dawned on Falanya. “And Patura has a poor relationship with the Empire…”

Cosimo continued. “Yes, there has long been animosity between the two. One might say it’s a result of our historical divide. With Imperial goods flowing into Patura, however, the people are growing more fascinated by the Empire, and this barrier is starting to lower.”

“In other words, people might start smuggling goods.”

“Precisely. Our political feud might keep us away, but Patura is a short distance northeast of Imperial lands. One can import for a much cheaper price there than via Natra.”

Felite spoke up. “For Patura, our trade with Natra is a symbol of friendship. I have no intention of disrespecting that. However, the reality is that we will soon be overwhelmed by smuggled goods and unable to sell the goods procured through your country. That is why I wish to discuss how we should conduct business from this point forward.”

“…Please excuse me for a moment.” Falanya tugged at Sirgis’s sleeve and pulled him aside. “Sirgis, I have a feeling this is really bad news.”

“Yes, to put it mildly, it will void at least half of the deal Prince Wein brought back from Patura.”

Wagh! Falanya wordlessly screamed. “Wh-what should we do?!”

“…This situation is far beyond your discretion. For now, let us return and seek Prince Wein’s opinion.”

“B-but I acted all important while listening to them just now…”

“Princess, acting as a representative is one part of a politician’s job. However, it is not good practice to meddle with the future of the nation—just to save face. You must swallow your pride—it would not look good for you otherwise.”

Falanya started to say something but stopped herself. She turned to Felite once more. “…I understand your request, Sir Felite. I wish to invite you to our current lodgings here once I discuss the matter with my brother. I believe we will be able to speak more then. What do you think?”

Felite nodded slowly. “I understand. Please send Prince Wein my regards,” he said before gently continuing to Falanya, who pursed her lips. “If I may be so bold, you seem to be wise despite a lack of experience, Princess Falanya. I’m certain Prince Wein is proud.”

“…Thank you very much.”

Falanya’s heart filled with embarrassment, frustration, and even a little relief as the man she was supposed to be negotiating with tried to smooth things over.

Cosimo looked at her as if she were his own daughter. “Well now, it seems that our discussion here is over. Shall we head back inside? When you’re as old as I am, even the autumn winds feel cold to the skin.”

“Yes, let’s. After you, Princess Falanya.”

“Th-thank you.”

Urged on by the pair, Falanya entered the manor once more.

This was no time to be depressed, she scolded herself. There was still plenty to be done.

She concluded that all investigated areas were free of any traps or suspicious activity. Of course, it was impossible to check everything. She was nervous she’d made some oversight, but there was no place to hide a large group of soldiers or lay a trap at the very least. There was a chance the rickety house might collapse at a moment’s notice, though.

After confirming their potential escape route, Ninym wrapped up her duties and left the ruined building. Wein probably still had his eyes glued to those documents. I better hurry and help him, she thought as she went back the way she’d come.

Just then—

“…That’s…”

Just as Ninym was about to enter the more populated part of town, she spotted human shadows by the wayside.

“Hey, old man, what happened? Cat got your tongue?”

“Fork over your stuff, already.”

A finely dressed old man was being harassed by two men.

“……”

Drawing attention to herself was a bad idea. She had an urgent job to do. They weren’t even paying attention to her. So—

“I guess there’s not much choice.”

Right then and there, Ninym decided to carry out a very conspicuous ambush.

“Aaaargh?!”

Approaching the men wordlessly from behind, she grabbed one’s arm and twisted it violently.

“Ow! Th-the hell?”

As soon as the man’s eyes widened in confusion over what had just happened, Ninym swiftly took out her knife and pointed it at his neck.

“Don’t resist.”

Sensing the cool metal against his neck, the man forgot the pain in his shoulder and gulped. Once he was under control, Ninym turned to glare at the other man. “Step away from the gentleman.”

“D-damn you…!”

“I told you to step away. Do you want your friend to die?”

Her forceful tone caused him to recoil, and he took one, then two steps away from the elder. Ninym pushed aside the man that she’d fixed her blade on and stepped between the two parties.

“Leave. There will be blood if you don’t.”

“Ngh. Y-you…”

“Let it go. She’s no amateur.”

Even fighting two against one didn’t guarantee their victory. And even if they did win, Ninym was right: Blood would be spilled. It wasn’t like she had the mettle to tolerate punks who tried to attack the old man and rob him of his possessions. The men spat verbal venom at her as they backed away.

When the two had completely disappeared, Ninym finally dropped her guard. “Are you hurt?”

The elderly man shook his head. His filmy white eyes turned to Ninym, and he slowly nodded. “…Because you stepped in. You have my thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” she replied. “It seems this place is lawless. I apologize if I’m just being paranoid, but I suggest you avoid walking by yourself.”

“…I stroll these areas around this time each morning, though I normally take the less-traveled paths.”

“I see. It seems your spontaneity has led to a bit of bad luck.”

“No, that’s not it.” Power seeped into his voice. “I am never spontaneous. I did use a different road than usual today, which caused me to be stopped by those hooligans when you appeared…”

The old man closed his eyes, seemingly lost in his thoughts. Just as Ninym wondered what she should do, he spoke to her.

“Don’t you have a duty to fulfill? Go on. Someone is coming for me shortly, so there is no need to worry.”

“…In that case, I will take my leave. Pardon me.”

Although she wasn’t fully satisfied, Ninym couldn’t deny she had matters to take care of.

The old man called out to her, and she turned on her heel.

“Those who stir storms are not alone. Do beware. Disaster is soon upon us—”

“Hmm, what a strange old man.”

Wein seemed indifferent after Ninym told him what had happened.

“You don’t really seem to care.”

“Well, we are on the home turf of the biggest religion on the continent. They’ve got quacks in spades. Plus, you’re not hurt… For me, the bigger problem is what Falanya told me about Felite.”

“I think it’s unfair to say ‘quacks’ rule this town… Anyway, I’m worried about the issue with Patura, too.”

Wein groaned as Ninym nodded next to him. “I understand what he’s asking and how we got to this point, but what am I supposed to do…?”

“I admit it’s troubling. But Wein…” Ninym pointed in front of her. “You should be focusing on this right now.”

It was nighttime. They were standing in front of the abandoned building Ninym had investigated early that morning. Wein, Tigris, and a third person were about to have their secret meeting.

“You’re right, Ninym. This is just as important,” he replied.

“We have been expecting you.” From the darkness emerged the face and voice of Tigris’s servant, Fushto.

“Where’s Tigris?”

“He is farther inside. There is also one more attendee,” he said. “Master Tigris insists you enter the manor alone. Your guard must wait outside.”

Ninym scowled at this demand, but Wein stayed her with his hand.

“All right, I’m fine with that. Lead the way.”

Wein left Ninym—stewing in displeasure—and entered the derelict building alone.

The inside was dim. There wasn’t a single lit candle in the room; the moonlight peeking through the holes in the walls provided some illumination. The shadows of the key figures, however, were nowhere to be seen.

“Tigris?” Wein called out into the darkness. After a moment, a reply came from above.

“Hey there, Prince.”

Wein looked up and spotted a second-floor mezzanine. Tigris’s head appeared from over the edge of the corridor.

“What are you doing up there?” Wein asked.

“Our third member is being a little stubborn. I was trying to persuade them.”

“‘Persuade them’? Of what?”

“To be honest, even though you and I are on the same page, this individual is the cautious type.”

“…Wait. Are you saying you haven’t finished negotiating with them this late in the game?”

“Hey, at least they’re here. I can tell it’ll take one last push. Just wait a minute, I’ll bring ’em out soon.”

As if running away from the complaints Wein was about to unleash, Tigris’s head instantly vanished. Left alone in the dark, Wein had no choice but to wait in dissatisfaction.

Then, a while later…

“Hm?”

He thought he heard a commotion from above. Just as he looked toward the source, a strange noise echoed over his head—the sound of something crashing with the rusty chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

“Wha—?”

The chain of the chandelier snapped in front of Wein and came crashing to the ground. The chains clanked. Dust kicked up. Glass shards sliced across the moonlight and twinkled like stars. When everything had settled, Wein’s eyes immediately shot open.

“Tigris…?!”

There splayed on top of the fallen chandelier lay Tigris’s body.

“Hey, are you okay?!” Wein rushed over to him and grabbed his shoulder. Moments later, he froze.

There was blood.

Even in the darkness, he could clearly see Tigris was losing blood. It stained his clothes, and his body looked as if he were being swallowed up by the night.

It didn’t take long for Wein to discover he was dead. The cause of death was either blood loss from the laceration in his neck or the knife stabbing through his heart from the back. The man’s lifeless eyes gripped his chest tightly, and Wein was forced to accept that he was now a silent corpse.

“Your Highness! What happened?!”

Hearing the commotion, Ninym and Fushto came flying in. Their eyes shot open when they found Wein and Tigris, fallen on the ground.

“Your Highness! Are you hurt?!”

“Master Tigris?! Wh-what’s going on?!”

Ninym ran to Wein and Fushto to Tigris. Upon confirming the conditions of their two masters, their expressions were direct opposites of one another.

“Wh-what happened here…? Wh-why did this…?” Fushto’s lips trembled. Grief and confusion had set in his eyes, but his face soon twisted to one of rage.

“Prince Wein! What’s going on?!”

It was a natural reaction, but Wein could only shake his head.

“Calm down. I don’t know what’s going on either.”

“How could you not know?! Master Tigris is dead! And you say you don’t know?!”

Fushto tried to close in on him; Ninym stepped between them. Sweat beaded on her temple.

“Sir Fushto, please do not approach Prince Wein any closer or I will have to restrain you.”

“Know your place, woman! Prince Wein! Answer me! What happened here?! Is this your doing?!”

“Stand back, Your Highness! Sir Fushto, if you take so much as one more step, I will consider you an enemy…!”

“Quit it! Now’s not the time for that!” Wein was shouting to pacify the two when…

“—No one move!”

The three all looked toward the manor entrance. Standing there were several dozen armed men. They weren’t rogues; each wore the same matching uniform.

“We are the defense force of Lushan!” one man announced. “We received a report that suspicious figures were spotted in this area! Resistance is futile! Follow our orders!”

“ Ngh.” Wein looked uneasy.

The secret meeting. Tigris’s sudden death. The calculated appearance of Lushan’s guards. By this point, there was no room for doubt.

This was a setup—!

As soon as this thought struck him, Wein came to a decision. “Ninym!”

“This way!”

Instantly understanding what he wanted, Ninym launched herself off the ground. He followed her deeper into the building without hesitation.

“Wait! Where are you going?!”

“You won’t get away! After them!”

As the voices of Fushto and the guards called out from behind, the two bounded farther into the shadows.

“Shit! Why’d this happen?!”

“It looks like you’ve been tricked, Wein…!”

“Yeah, no kidding!”

If this was a trap, they had to avoid getting caught at any cost. And even if they did manage to escape, the situation was guaranteed to go from bad to worse.

After taking this all into account—Wein unveiled an arrogant smile.

“I don’t know who’s pulling the strings, but I promise I’ll get even with the mastermind…!”

The Holy Elite Tigris was assassinated.

Even though an official announcement was never made, rumors spread through the city like wildfire. Why? Who? How? —Speculations squirmed like a living creature, and overnight, Lushan’s celebratory mood as it awaited the Gathering of the Chosen was replaced by a city crawling with dark whispers.

Of course, there were those who laughed off the rumors. Nonetheless, when they noticed the castle gates blockaded by guards and the heightened security around the manors housing the leaders, starting with Tigris’s estate, they had to admit something was going on.

“Tell me this isn’t so…”

It didn’t take long before the gathered leaders in Lushan heard about Prince Wein’s involvement in Tigris’s death.

“Father! I have urgent news!”

One such person, Tolcheila, received a report from her subordinate and wasted no time rushing to tell Gruyere.

“Prince Tigris has been killed, and they say it was Prince Wein’s doing!”

“I know.” Gruyere sat in a room of his manor and greeted the flustered Tolcheila with a tiny smile. “He just told me himself.”

“Huh?” Tolcheila stared at him blankly before noticing a figure sitting there. Her eyes widened with recognition. “P-Prince Wein?!”

“Ah, Princess Tolcheila. What a coincidence.”

It was, without a doubt, Wein Salema Arbalest in the flesh. How could he call this a “coincidence”? He was the criminal wanted throughout Lushan for Tigris’s murder. He stood at the very center of this scandal. Why would he come to their manor?

“He sought refuge here last night. Said to call it payback for the other day,” Gruyere said, sensing Tolcheila’s doubt. “I accepted without any idea about what was going on. Who would have thought you were caught up in such a mess? I would have kicked you out if I’d known.”

“IOUs are a man’s best friend.”

“Hah, negotiating with you comes with deadly consequences,” Gruyere replied with a laugh. “So did you do it?”

“I would never.”

Gruyere gazed up at the ceiling, appearing bored. “I thought you might have offed Tigris since you’d clash in the future anyway.”

“I’m not that aggressive, King Gruyere.”

“Oh? Didn’t you get rid of Ordalasse of Cavarin?”

“Quite an accusation. Wasn’t it officially determined that General Levert did the deed?”

The two spoke casually, except the atmosphere was anything but.

Tolcheila stepped in. “If the prince didn’t slay Tigris, then who did?”

“An excellent question. The biggest suspect is the third person who was present, too.”

The third party whom Tigris had invited to the deserted house. One person was the murder victim and the other was Wein, so presuming the final individual was the culprit made perfect sense.

“Who could they be…?” Wein wondered with a frown.

Across from him, Gruyere groaned. “You never found out who it was?”

“No, but from Tigris’s attitude, they were apparently at the scene.”

“Sounds like you’ve got it rough,” Gruyere commented. “You’re free to hide here, Prince Wein, but don’t hang around forever. I just got word that the Gathering will be postponed, but that’ll be a few days at most. If you don’t find Tigris’s real killer before then…”

“I’ll become the criminal.”

“Exactly.”

After all, a Holy Elite invited to the Gathering of the Chosen had died in Lushan. If they weren’t careful, it might bring on more chaos: like Tigris’s homeland of Velancia separating from Levetia or rising in revolt. From Levetia’s perspective, they had to publicly blame someone—guilty or not—and stamp out those sparks.

It would be easiest for them to pin the blame on me, since I’m the closest thing to a prime suspect. Claiming I killed a Holy Elite would give them an opportunity to strike at Natra.

To put it mildly, he was in trouble. And since Wein had only a few days to turn things around, this was doubly true.

“…I’d like to ask a few questions for reference. Can you think of anyone among the Holy Elite who bore a grudge against Prince Tigris?”

“I can. Knowing probably won’t help on your quest to find your third person, though. Miroslav of Falcasso is one. He lost many of his soldiers after Tigris placed his men along the border of their two nations. It seems a treaty between Tigris and Agata of the Ulbeth Alliance has become strained, and apparently Tigris was trying to distance himself. There were rumors that he’d been secretly associating with the king of Vanhelio, who doesn’t think too highly of Steel.”

“It seems like Prince Tigris was spreading himself thin…”

“He couldn’t keep a tight rein on the beast called ambition. I could have watched him forever, personally.” Gruyere chuckled. “The Holy Elites are basically tied together. Agata keeps Levetia in check so he can control the Alliance and is in constant disagreement with the Agency of the Holy King. Miroslav’s predecessor was a capable leader, so now he’s met with opposition from every corner. You know, I’ve had diplomatic relations with the Vanhelio Kingdom in the past.”

For both emotional and national interests, the Holy Elite were seen as a unit from the outside, but they were eager to crush one another at the first opportunity. Gruyere was saying that was what it meant to be a Holy Elite.

This isn’t going to be easy, Wein thought.

As if reading his mind, Gruyere continued, “Just so you know, harboring you is the only help you’ll get out of me.”

“I understand. That’s not to say you aren’t up for making a deal, I take it?”

“If you can make it worth my while. Even I don’t enjoy loaning money to a sinking ship.”

“Well then, what may I ask would be worth your while, King Gruyere?”

Gruyere thought this over for a few seconds before looking at Tolcheila. “I guess I’d lend a hand if you agreed to marry Tolcheila. How about it?”

“Let’s forget this conversation ever happened.”

Gruyere could hardly contain his laughter as Tolcheila glared at Wein.

“Prince Wein, do you detest me that much?”

“No, not at all. It’s just that I refuse to have King Gruyere as my father-in-law.”

Unable to hold it in any longer, Gruyere slapped his belly with a loud guffaw.

“…You’ve secured your spot as my greatest adversary,” Tolcheila snarled.

“It’s fun to watch the trials and tribulations of youth, but there’s no greater pleasure than undertaking your own. Go on, Tolcheila. I’m ready at any time.”

Giving the father-daughter pair a side glance as they jokingly fought each other, Wein stared out the window.

I wonder how many clues I can gather in the time I have left…

That would all depend on his Heart secretly running across Lushan.

“—How’s the situation looking?”

In a corner of one of Lushan’s multitude of empty alleyways, two hooded figures stood concealed within the shadows.

“His Highness is safe. He’s currently staying at the manor for the representatives from Soljest.” Ninym’s red eyes peeked out from under her hood. “What about you, Nanaki?”

“Everyone’s pretty much a mess—especially Falanya. Can’t blame her, though,” said the other figure. “I’m sure she’ll calm down once I get back and tell her Wein’s fine. That’s only a temporary fix. The manor is surrounded by guards, and no one can enter or leave. If this keeps up, they’ll explode sooner or later.”

Having their master suspected of murder and being put under house arrest in an unfamiliar foreign country put a substantial amount of stress on the hearts and minds of the delegation.

“Then we’ll have to resolve this as quickly as possible…but we still don’t know who the third person is,” Ninym remarked.

“I have a couple questions about that.”

“I’m listening. What?”

“First, the guards moved way too fast. It felt that way when our manor was surrounded, but they also blockaded the city and stopped people from getting in or out in that same amount of time. They said it was to prevent the murderer from escaping, but it seemed like they’d prepared ahead of time.”

“There is a chance that they’re simply efficient…but it is worth noting.”

“I also did some digging before we met up and confirmed the locations of three of the Holy Elites on the night of the murder: Gruyere, Silverio, and Miroslav.”

“What did you learn?”

“I confirmed that Gruyere was at a party, Silverio at a ceremony, and Miroslav went to King Skrei’s manor. However, there’s a chance that Miroslav snuck out.”

“If we include Prince Miroslav, the remaining suspects are him, Duke Steel, and Representative Agata. Someone had to be in the abandoned building at that time. Furthermore—” Ninym took a cylindrical object out of her breast pocket. “I found this when I snuck inside. What do you think, Nanaki?”

“…Is it a knife sheath? It’s covered in dry blood… This carved symbol…”

“Belongs to the Ulbeth Alliance,” Ninym finished. “It’s the emblem of Agata’s city.”

Ever since she lost track of Wein’s whereabouts, the word “calm” had vanished from Falanya’s vocabulary.

“Urghh…”

Moaning like a small animal, she wandered around her room like a ghost, sat down, thought for a minute, stood up, and paced the room again. She repeated this pattern, but it did nothing more than kill time. The delegation who saw her tried offering words of reassurance to set her mind at ease, but to no avail.

“Sirgis, isn’t Nanaki back yet?” she asked.

“I have not received any word,” he answered in a matter-of-fact tone.

“I see,” Falanya mumbled and continued roaming around the room. Sirgis observed her—and abruptly let out a quiet sigh.

“I thought you might return to your senses in due course, but it appears that is not the case.”

“What was that? Did you say something?”

Irritation sparked in his master’s gaze, but Sirgis boldly pressed on. “Regrettably, Your Highness, fret here all you like, but it will have no effect on Prince Wein’s return.”

“Hey…!” Falanya nearly lashed out at him. She swayed into a nearby chair. “…I know that,” she replied. “Are you saying I can’t worry about my brother?” she persisted with a pained expression.

“That’s right,” Sirgis shot back without a shred of mercy. “It may be virtuous when the townspeople are overcome with worry for their family and pray for their safety. You, however, are the princess of a nation, and now that Prince Wein is missing, you are the representative of this delegation. If you wish to follow through on your desire to support him, you must take up the task of leading our people here.”

“………”

His word pierced her heart. The silence stretched on. He, too, said nothing and continued to wait for the young girl sitting in front of him to take a new step forward.

“…Sirgis, please give me your opinion. What should I do? Give me the details.”

Her question was that of a representative, and Sirgis gave a reverent bow.

“First, you should take a warm, wet cloth and wipe your face. After that, please speak with each member of our delegation. A few words from you will unify everyone and allow us to face this dilemma.”

“…Yes, you’re right. I can’t let them see me like this.” Falanya smiled meekly. It was a grin that showed she was ready to take this on. “I must ready my hair and clothes. Sirgis, please call the maids.”

“Understood.” Sirgis accepted Falanya’s orders and left the room. He muttered to himself as he walked down the corridor.

“…To think I would be instructing children.” He broke into a self-deprecating smile, but it was quickly overshadowed. “Our problems start here. I wonder if that prince can turn the situation around…”

If the prince failed to return safely, even the princess’s resolve would crumble like sand. Of course, as he said a short while ago, no amount of worrying would change the situation.

Even so, Sirgis hoped the situation wouldn’t leave the princess in tears.

Two days later, it was announced that the Gathering of the Chosen would resume.

Deep within the Agency of the Holy King was a residence for royalty. The reception room inside it was perfectly round, and a circular table was set in the center. These two circles represented the symbol of Levetia. Since time immemorial, the villa had served as a customary meeting place for the Holy Elites.

There were currently seven people sitting around the table.

King Gruyere of Soljest Kingdom.

Prince Miroslav of Falcasso Kingdom.

Representative Agata of the Ulbeth Alliance.

Duke Steel of Vanhelio Kingdom.

Holy King Silverio.

Next to the Holy King, the director of Levetia’s Gospel Bureau, Caldmellia.

And next to Prince Miroslav, the king of the Cavarin Kingdom, Skrei.

The leaders of the West had come together for the Gathering of the Chosen.

“—Welcome, everyone, I thank you for attending.” Even in the spacious hall, Caldmellia’s voice cut through the air like a knife. “I know we have had a bit of an accident, but I am grateful to have the chance to conduct this Gathering of the Chosen as the director of the Gospel Bureau.”

The Holy Elites were apathetic.

“You’re really going to call the death of a Holy Elite a little accident? Do they make you throw out all sanity and common sense when you become the director?” Miroslav asked with dripping sarcasm.

“It’s the Gospel Bureau that is responsible for governing Lushan. You shouldn’t diminish the death of a Holy Elite, Caldmellia.”

Gruyere followed up on Miroslav’s comment and gave her a challenging look. However, it would take more to shake Caldmellia.

“But of course. I feel as if Prince Tigris’s untimely passing in Lushan was my own personal failing. It pains me. However—if I may be so bold—such a matter is trivial compared to this Gathering of the Chosen.”

The eyes of the Holy Elite narrowed.

“What do you mean by ‘trivial,’ Lady Caldmellia?” Agata questioned.

Caldmellia offered an explanation. “As you all know, things are strained throughout the continent. Starting with the upheaval in the Empire, the embers of revolt now smolder in every nation. We cannot ignore the influence of the Eastern Levetia. That is why I believe the importance of our roles is unprecedently high.”

“…So you’re saying that the direction of this Gathering supersedes the life of a Holy Elite?”

“Precisely, Sir Agata. All Holy Elites dedicate themselves to the good of the people. Holding the Gathering of the Chosen is an act more important than fussing over this empty chair.”

““………””

The Holy Elites remained silent. If they tossed out an immediate no here, it would look like they were prioritizing their own lives over the people’s. Everyone knew that wasn’t a great road to head down.

Caldmellia must have been expecting this reaction; she was beaming.

“Besides, we have an idea of who Prince Tigris’s murderer is.”

“…You mean the rumors about Prince Wein, right?” Steel asked dejectedly. “Could he really have killed Prince Tigris with his own hands?”

Miroslav scoffed. “He fled the scene, didn’t he? Plus, he’s still at large. How would claiming he’s innocent make any sense?!”

Agata quietly groaned. “…I’ve heard that no eyewitnesses caught him in the act, but what exactly happened, Lady Caldmellia?”

“You are correct, Sir Agata. From the account I have heard from Prince Tigris’s subordinate, Prince Tigris and Prince Wein met in an abandoned building, and the servant raced inside when he heard a strange noise. When he arrived, he found Prince Tigris dead and Prince Wein next to him.”

“Then the writing is on the wall!” Miroslav exclaimed. “It seems like the two were up to no good. Things fell through, and one ended up killing the other. That’s it. Let’s just hurry up and get on with the next topic!”

It was here that Gruyere interrupted with a smirk.

“The prince of Falcasso seems to be in quite the rush. It sounds to me like arguing it further might be inconvenient for you.”

“Wha…?! Don’t be stupid! I’m saying we should talk about other stuff that actually matters instead of wasting our time stating the obvious! Or does the Beast King of the North not understand human logic?!”

“Do one of these topics you find so significant involve King Skrei sitting next to you? Ah, it’s so tragic. Rather than mourning the death of a comrade, your biggest concern is filling his seat.”

“Ngh, damn you…!” Miroslav began to argue, but Steel voiced a theory of his own.

“I wish to discuss it a bit further, too. Although Prince Tigris did not understand the arts, his soul was powerful. How was his glimmer stolen? How was it broken? If I can discover this, ah, I’m certain it will benefit my artistic process…!”

“…But even if we discuss it, what clues do we…”

As Agata spoke, Gruyere broke into a wide smile. “Don’t worry on that point. It won’t be long.”

“Long before what?”

As the Holy Elites frowned, Holy King Silverio, who had been silent up until that point, suddenly turned toward the hall entrance. The door was pushed open, revealing a single person.

“—Oh, wonderful. Everyone’s here. I have had the pleasure of meeting several of you before but allow me to introduce myself again.”

With all eyes on him, their visitor grinned.

“I am the Crown Prince of Natra, Wein Salema Arbalest… I apologize for being late, but I am here to attend the Gathering of the Chosen.”

Wein should be showing up at the Gathering right about now.

Ninym let out a small sigh as she watched the Agency of the Holy King from a corner of an alley.

I’ve been collecting as much information as possible for the past several days and concluded the third person is almost certainly Agata… I just haven’t been able to find any damning evidence.

At this rate, it would be difficult to justifiably denounce him. Their last option depended on Wein allying with the Holy Elites, the most powerful figures in the West. They could make miracles happen. At the Gathering of the Chosen, the truth meant little. Everything depended on profit.

Ninym could only pray that Wein would demonstrate his knack at tricking others and lead them to the wrong conclusion.

But… Ninym recalled something that happened when the two had parted. After examining the information she’d gathered, Wein had asked her a single question.

I wonder why he asked that.

It was still a mystery to her. What value was there in that piece of information?

He’d asked, “How far was the hanging chandelier from the hallway on the second floor?”

Wein had appeared out of nowhere. Miroslav was the next to react after Silverio.

“Bastard! How dare you show your face around here! Guards! Arrest him!”

As Miroslav tried to call for soldiers in a hoarse voice, Wein raised his hand in objection.

“Ah…Prince Miroslav, right? I regret to inform you that you don’t have the power to mobilize soldiers here. And your orders to restrain me would be unfounded, I might add.”

“Wha…?!”

“After all, this is the Agency of the Holy King, and the ones in charge are either the Holy King or the director of the Gospel Bureau. Plus, I was summoned to the Gathering of the Chosen by the Holy King himself and have confirmed the invitation still stands. Any problems?”

“Your invite is still valid,” Caldmellia said with a wry grin. “So that’s why you’re here. It makes perfect sense. At the same time, you are a prime suspect in the murder of Prince Tigris. What do you think of that?”

Wein looked innocent as he seated himself at the round table. “It seems that there is a terrible misunderstanding going around. I’m shocked that would happen right before the Gathering.”

“A misunderstanding? A misunderstanding, is it?!” Miroslav snapped at Wein. “Prince Wein! Are you denying you killed Prince Tigris?!”

“Of course. I just happened to be there when he died. I wouldn’t dream of killing him.”

“Then answer me this! Who besides you could have killed him?!”

“That is—”

Wein looked over at Agata. As soon as that gaze fell on him, Agata froze as if pinned down. Satisfied by this reaction, Wein finished his thought.

“An Imperial assassin, of course.”

“—An Imperial assassin, of course.”

When Agata heard Wein, he was more confused than relieved.

Did he realize that I’m the third person…?

The one whom Tigris had invited to meet in the abandoned manor…was Agata. Although the guards had focused on Wein and he’d just barely been able to make his own escape, it wasn’t like Agata had been able to cover up every shred of evidence. He thought that his cover would be blown if anyone did a bit of digging. That was why he had carefully crafted an excuse to use if he came under fire. Agata never expected to hear speculation that the Empire was involved.

…No, that’s not it.

Wein’s piercing gaze. The prince had to know he was the third person. But then why—

…Did he realize that, too?!

Agata watched Wein smirk.

Yeah, that’s right.

Wein was certain now.

Even if the third person was Agata, there’s a chance that someone else killed Tigris…!

Wein had felt something was off from the very beginning. Whoever the third person was, if they were going to secretly meet in an abandoned building, Tigris would have taken every precaution to guarantee his safety. And yet, he’d been ruthlessly killed. That could have never happened unless he was completely unguarded.

Moreover, a meeting between three people was the worst time to commit a crime. If, say, Wein had died, then either Tigris or Agata would be under suspicion, and if Agata had died, Tigris and Wein. Anyone who didn’t die would automatically be presumed guilty. The secret died with Tigris, but if Wein somehow implicated Agata or gave a statement, he could quickly have him arrested. It would have been easier for Agata to meet with Tigris alone and kill him then.

Thus, this gave birth to a new possibility: An uninvited fourth person had been there.

“First, let me explain what I was doing inside a dilapidated manor that night.” Keeping his inner thoughts to himself, Wein turned to the Holy Elites. “Before the Gathering of the Chosen, I had plans to attend a secret meeting proposed by Prince Tigris. His subordinate can attest to this.”

Miroslav glowered at Wein. “And what were you going to talk about?”

“I’m not actually certain myself, but he did inform me that a third party would be attending. I’m afraid I was never given a name, however.”

“You waltzed right into a meeting you knew nothing about? Hmph, Prince Wein—for all the praise I’ve heard about him—is more careless than I thought.”

“Ah, well, yes. I wouldn’t have been falsely implicated if I hadn’t gone. I regret that.” Wein brushed off Miroslav’s sarcasm with a shrug. “Let’s return to the subject at hand. I arrived at the manor at the proposed time. From atop the second floor, Prince Tigris told me he would bring down the third member and disappeared from sight. As I was waiting for him to return, Prince Tigris’s dead body tumbled down from above.”

Steel raised his hand. “Prince Wein, were you able to confirm the identity of the third person?”

“Regrettably, my only thought in that moment was to run toward the prince.”

Miroslav was ready to pounce. “What a convenient excuse! Are you sure this third party even exists?!”

Caldmellia stepped in. “We have verbal testimony from Prince Tigris’s subordinate about that. Are you saying, Prince Wein, that this person was an assassin from the Empire?”

“That is correct.”

This was, of course, all a lie. There was no Imperial assassin in the manor. The fourth member was, without question, a subordinate of a Holy Elite. And Wein knew the goal of whoever had sent them.

To kill one out of the three.

There was probably some degree of priority, but it didn’t matter much. After all, the mastermind considered all three of them to be a nuisance. That said, they couldn’t get rid of them all. Doing so would create more problems. And so they decided to kill one, have the other two framed for murder, and watch them crush each other. It didn’t matter who was convicted, because the fourth person would profit either way—

—That was the gist of your plan. Right, Caldmellia?

The director of the Gospel Bureau. Caldmellia. Wein was certain she was the one who had snuck in that fourth figure.

Obviously, I’m a threat to Levetia, Tigris was eyeing the Holy King’s throne, and Agata fights with the Agency of the Holy King over the administration of his city.

For Caldmellia, all three were better off dead. That’s why their late-night meeting was a stroke of good luck for her.

Lushan is her home turf. It wouldn’t be weird at all for her to know about our meeting in the abandoned building and any connected hidden routes or secret rooms. And she can dispatch guards to the scene at a moment’s notice. Caldmellia has to be the one who sealed off the city.

Wein mentally grinned.

Why could Ninym sneak in and find a sheath with Agata’s blood on it? Why was security so lax? Because no one found it even after a thorough search? Yeah, right.

Everything was a setup designed to pit Wein and Agata against each other. Caldmellia must have also known that Wein would hide out in Gruyere’s mansion. And she was the one who let him go free.

“Prince Wein, if you didn’t see the third person yourself, how do you know they were an Imperial assassin?” Gruyere asked with a chuckle. As someone who had an idea of what was going on, he must have thought this conspiracy theory was hilarious.

“It’s simple. Why was I chosen to attend the meeting? And who would benefit from Prince Tigris’s death? When you combine these two questions, the answer is quite clear.”

“What do you mean?”

“—It was to join forces with the Empire and win over my nation to form a pro-Empire faction among the Holy Elite. That was Prince Tigris’s goal.”

The table stirred. The Empire was technically an enemy to the West. Of course, they were a valuable trading partner for neighboring nations, but it was understood that such business was done on the sly.

“I see. That’s certainly possible. After all, he was always stepping on the toes of other Holy Elites. He must have thought he was friendless, hoping to claw his way out of trouble by connecting with the Empire,” Gruyere murmured in admiration.

Wein was, of course, making things up on the fly. The reality was, however, that it was completely plausible that Tigris might try to contact the Empire. That was precisely what made these lies so believable.

“Siding with the Empire is high treason! It’s unforgivable!” Miroslav railed.

Of the three public highways within the large mountain range running down the central continent, the nation facing the southern road was Miroslav’s kingdom. Inevitably, they had a bitter history with the Empire. To Miroslav, the Empire was an accursed enemy.

Wein pressed on. “Prince Tigris’s plan, however, was a tragic failure. He was betrayed and killed by the very state he meant to form an alliance with.”

“I don’t understand that part,” Caldmellia interjected. “Regardless of whether it would prove successful, why did the Empire want to crush any budding hope of a pro-Empire faction?”

“A poor move in the long run, but the current situation in the Empire is so volatile that they can’t even consider a long-term outlook. To prevent others from taking advantage of them, the Empire has chosen to avoid conflict and maintain stable relations with the West in the short term,” Wein replied. “There is also a reason why they carried out an assassination in Lushan. With the Gathering of the Chosen as their stage, they could undermine the authority of the Holy Elite. They hoped to bring down a figure of import such as Lady Caldmellia. The Imperial family, Princess Lowellmina in particular, is evil incarnate, born from depravity and cowardice. Conjuring up this idea would be as simple to her as breathing.”

If Lowellmina were present, she’d scream at the top of her lungs and bash him with a mirror, so he could take a long, hard look at himself. Since she wasn’t here, however, Wein placed the blame on her.

If the group accepted this conspiracy theory, Tigris would be known as the idiot who tried to make a deal with the Empire and failed, and his reputation would plummet. But Wein couldn’t care less. Dead people didn’t need reputations. And more than anything, this was for Tigris’s sake, too.

When the body fell with the chandelier, something felt off. I had Ninym do a little digging and figured it out… Tigris, you jumped on to the chandelier yourself.

Since he fell from the edge of the second-floor mezzanine, the chandelier decorating the entrance hall of the abandoned house would have been unreachable following a natural trajectory. Unless Tigris launched himself off the edge or three or four people tossed him, he never would have touched it, and Wein would have sensed if multiple people were right above him.

Which could only mean that Tigris jumped. But for what?

It was to prove that, until the very moment he jumped, he had been conscious.

Tigris had his throat slashed and a knife stuck in his back. There’s no question he was ambushed, and his throat was slit first.

What was running through Tigris’s mind as the shock gripped his throat? Surprise? Confusion? Fear? Anger? None of that. Wein knew.

What Tigris held on to was stubbornness.

Realization had hit Tigris. There was a fourth person. Someone sent by Caldmellia. That’s why Tigris ran. He ran to where Wein was waiting for him below so he could tell him about the unexpected visitor.

This was not done out of friendship or their shared alliance. It was a final act of obstinance that refused to let Caldmellia win and get away with it. He couldn’t speak because of his slit throat, and there was a knife in his back. Refusing to give up, however, Tigris jumped just before his death. He gripped his heart tightly.

If his slit throat and the knife in his back were not the cause of this pain, why did he clutch at his chest? It wasn’t because he was hurt. What he was actually holding was the symbol that hung from his neck—the Circles. It was a final message that said the enemy was someone who was a symbol for Levetia. That is, the Holy King and Caldmellia.

Tigris, we would have killed each other at some point if you had lived, but for better or worse, you died while our alliance was still intact… So I’ll pick a flower to leave on your grave.

It was for this reason that Wein was going to put the pressure on.

“What do you think, Sir Agata? Is my explanation to your satisfaction?”

“Hmph…” Agata slightly flinched when he was thrown into the conversation. Miroslav, Steel, and the others looked at them quizzically.

Agata alone was aware of the prince’s unspoken intentions: I’ll pretend you weren’t the third person, so just play along.

“…I feel like much of what you have said is far-fetched,” Agata began. “But only God knows. We will never know the truth… I shall believe you.”

Wein could feel the atmosphere of the room begin to shift. It didn’t make too much of a difference, though—there was one less Holy Elite. A single “yes” wasn’t going to do much.

Wein turned his eyes on his next target. “What do you think, Prince Miroslav?”

“Don’t be stupid! All I’ve been hearing this whole time is stuff that makes you look better! You think I’d just fall for it?!”

Miroslav was, in fact, right on the money, but Wein answered him with confidence.

“I can’t blame you for thinking this way, but both my reputation and the future of Natra are on the line. If you insist on proving I murdered Prince Tigris, I will take as much time as needed to clear such accusations.”

Miroslav’s main objective for this Gathering was making King Skrei a Holy Elite. Finding Tigris’s murderer was not part of his plans. Wein was in his way. The young prince maintained open relations with his enemy—the Empire—and Miroslav understood there was merit in getting ridding of him, but only if it wouldn’t obstruct his true goal.

If we waste time on this and miss the chance to talk about King Skrei’s candidacy for Holy Elite…

Miroslav was spearheading the discussion around King Skrei. It wouldn’t make much difference to the other Holy Elites if they skipped talk of his appointment altogether. In fact, they were all thinking about shrugging it off. There were more important matters at hand.

Grah…

Should he continue verbally denouncing Wein or switch topics to King Skrei? Miroslav’s heart was as stormy as the ocean.

“Prince Miroslav.”

The voice next to him brought Miroslav back to his senses. Beside him, Skrei’s gaze was intense, though apprehensive.

If I interrogate Wein here, I’ll lose his trust…!

By cooperating with Skrei, Miroslav’s main objective was to gain more power at the Gathering of the Chosen. Even if Skrei did become a Holy Elite, the plan would collapse if he criticized Wein here and lost Skrei’s trust. Miroslav had to avoid this at any cost.

I guess I’ve got no choice…

Cursing himself on the inside, Miroslav turned to Wein. “…I take it back. I’ll accept it was the Empire’s fault.”

“Oh, I’m glad you understand, Prince Miroslav.” Wein smirked as if he’d just watched Miroslav’s inner turmoil.

Miroslav grit his teeth in irritation.

If that’s the case… Wein surveyed the remaining Holy Elites at the round table.

There were four left: the Holy King, Caldmellia, Steel, and Gruyere. If Wein could convince even one of them, his conspiracy theory would be accepted by the majority.

Personality-wise, Gruyere will agree to this only if he’s the sole opposition. The Holy King and Caldmellia are still sticking to their guns. Which means Steel is the one to convince!

Wein opened his mouth to address Steel.

“—Prince Wein, your theory about the Empire is certainly a logical one.” Before he could say anything, Caldmellia broke her silence. “We should protest to the Empire and have them take responsibility.”

Caldmellia had accepted Wein’s theory. None of the Holy Elites had been expecting this. They had assumed she was planning to take full advantage of the chaos and crush Natra.

“I take it His Holiness shares the same opinion, Director Caldmellia?” Gruyere asked.

Next to Caldmellia, Silverio gave a small but definite nod. She was not deciding things on her own, it seemed.

“King Gruyere, Duke Steel, what do you think?” Caldmellia asked the two in Wein’s stead. They were already in the minority, and there was no way either was going to refute Wein’s opinion if the Holy King already agreed with it.

“Prince Wein, will you later inform me of Tigris’s death in minute detail?”

“…Of course.”

“Thank you. In that case, I will support the notion that Prince Tigris was killed by the Empire,” Steel said in a satisfied tone. Wein mentally gagged.

“All right. I’ll accept it, too,” Gruyere added with a heavy nod.

With this, the truth would be buried in darkness. Wein’s proposed theory was accepted by all the Holy Elites, and the crime of Tigris’s death would fall on the Empire. In other words, Wein had wriggled his way out of all his problems.

I should be home free—but I’m not.

Wein looked at Caldmellia. Why did she agree to his story? He couldn’t relax until he figured this out.

Wein kept his expression composed. I see what you’re up to. Your plan is to get me to join in and bash the Empire, right?

The Holy Elite Tigris had been killed by an Imperial assassin.

News of this would spread across both sides of the continent and be a catalyst for heightened anti-Imperial sentiment in the West. It wasn’t hard to imagine future meetings, where strategies to put pressure on the Empire would be discussed. Naturally, Natra couldn’t afford to stay out of it.

Will she use military force or impose economic sanctions? At any rate, she’s using this as an opportunity to get Natra to cut ties with the Empire. And now that I’ve pushed the Empire as the mastermind, it would be awkward for me to refuse her now.

He still had a chance, however. He’d gotten this far. Wein could be a fair-weather friend.

The real battle starts now, Caldmellia…!

Just as Wein was staring to get ready for the fight ahead…

“—Pardon me!” A messenger came flying out of nowhere.

“The army of Cavarin is attacking the city of Mealtars in the central continent! And Imperial Prince Bardloche has mobilized his army to defend Mealtars!”

““Whaaaaaat?””

The eyes of all present widened in shock. This, of course, included the Holy Elites. Wein and Skrei were no exceptions.

Two among them, however, were different.

The Holy King remained perfectly still as if he’d heard nothing at all, and a suspicious smile crept onto Caldmellia’s face—