4

“Welcome back, Lady Ines.”

At the castle entrance. Ines stepped down from her mana carriage, greeted by a synchronized bow from the servants.

She didn’t so much as glance their way, stepping straight into the castle. Then, without her noticing, one of the butlers had fallen into step beside her—the head butler, of course.

“Welcome back. It seems you’ve been quite the whirlwind this time.”

There was a sharp edge to the words.

Fair enough. She’d marched to the front line on her own, sent the knight who was supposed to protect her into the fray, and stayed back just behind, calmly directing the whole thing all along.

Unthinkable behavior, really.

“There was no other timing.”

Ines brushed it off with a shrug, walking on down the corridor.

The butler seemed to give up, letting out a quiet sigh and moving on. He wasn’t just some idle observer—after all, he’d watched Ines grow from a child.

I could guess, without Ines saying a word, what kind of person she really was—what she was thinking, what kind of heart she had.

Is that so? What would you like to do now? You must be tired—would you like to rest in your room?

No, I’m meeting Father. He’s probably in his study, though?

Now? Probably in a meeting with the bureaucrats. Should be done soon, I reckon.

"Let me know when you're done. I'll change into something else by then."

Understood.

The butler quietly fades away behind me. I keep walking down the corridor, unfazed, and there it is—the door to my private chambers.

The guard on watch, seeing Ines arrive, opened the door and let her in.

“Something comfortable, please. I’m meeting Father, so nothing too casual.”

“Understood.”

The attendants moved briskly, selecting and dressing Ines in a new gown.

By the time she was finished, she was wrapped in a soft, sky-blue dress.

“Phew—much nicer than outerwear gowns.”

Ines glanced down at herself, smiling.

“Latest model, they say. Harder to take off before marriage, easier after. That’s the idea, anyway.”

“Oh? So practical, aren’t we? Though I suppose one might ask—what about the post-wedding version?”

“Naturally the pre-wedding one, Your Highness. If we dressed you in wedding attire before the ceremony, we’d all lose our heads.”

“Mm-hmm, true. Still… I’d like one, just once. I’d like to wear it, just once.”

“The queen’s got one, so we’ll just have the lady-in-waiting pass it along to a friend of hers.”

If word got out that Ines had ordered her wedding dress already, that’d be a proper scandal. Knowing Ines’s wild streak, those close to her would likely still want one—so I’d already made sure to speak with the queen’s maid in advance.

Simple as that—backdoor transfer, really.

“Can’t wait. Might be fun to tease my knight a bit.”

“He’s already engaged, so please, keep it light.”

The maid tacked on that warning, careful not to let Eld’s careful obedience to Ines’s request give rise to some poor misunderstanding between them.

“My knight’s lover was Ange, wasn’t it? Then it’d be fun to put it on Ange.”

“Hmm… not a bad idea.”

The whole thing—dressing a common maid in something borrowed from the queen—was a proper mess. But since Ines was leading it, it somehow passed.

That seemed to be the compromise, and the maid agreed to it.

A knock came at the door. A butler’s voice drifted in from outside.

“Miss Ines, the king’s meeting has ended. He’s returning to his office now.”

“Understood. Then let’s go.”

Ines smiled, and with her entourage at her side, she headed toward the king’s office.

The king’s office. It looked nothing like a place where a king would be—sterile, practical, almost bare.

The shelves and desk were clearly top-tier, but to anyone who didn’t know better, they’d look just like any ordinary table.

The carpet laid out there was worth enough to keep a commoner fed for three whole years. But without a single pattern, it looked plain compared to the ones in the audience hall or private chambers.

Just a room meant for work—yet here sat father and daughter face to face.

“What do you want?”

The king didn’t even look up from his papers as he asked Ines.

“Do you really intend to keep fighting this war forever?”

“The war was started by them—Overd. It won’t end easily.”

“Is that truly so?”

Ines’s words made the king finally lift his head and glare at her.

“What are you getting at?”

“The buffer zones. The villages scattered nearby. Step back a little, and it’s plain as day—they’re bait.”

Villagers forbidden from moving. Armunale’s patrols, strict as clockwork.

No watchtowers built inside the buffer zones—despite being attacked over and over. Not one.

Every single one of them screams, *Come on in, we’re begging you.*

“Can’t afford it. Got to feed the soldiers. Let the villagers move freely? We’d starve.”

“With industry booming, trade balances swelling—why cling so hard to homegrown food? The allied nations sent word just yesterday. Said they’ve got more than they can sell.”

“Can’t be sure. If we depend too much on homegrown, people’ll suffer when the harvest fails.”

“Suffer? They’re suffering right now. Because your father banned their movement.”

“That’s just hindsight. No one suffers if they’re not attacked.”

“So you’re saying Overd’s to blame for everything?”

“Exactly.”

“So we do nothing? That’s just laziness, isn’t it?”

“We’re giving subsidies and waiving taxes.”

“And that’s what led to this big invasion?”

The king’s paper crumpled with a sharp snap.

Ines stared straight at her father.

“Still think you can control this war, do you?”

“The damage is significant, but within expected limits.”

“Within expected limits… You’re telling me villages—dozens, maybe hundreds—have been wiped out, and that’s ‘within limits’?”

Eld’s reports, and scraps of word from the front lines, had reached her ears, even if only in part.

According to the reports, at least every village near the border’s been wiped out. Even the area near the second defense line—after the beta block, most of the houses have been burned down.

The second line’s been broken through completely, past delta and epsilon. Those sectors are in ruins.

“That’s not your concern.”

The king didn’t even look up, eyes already back on the papers—like the conversation was over.

But Ines wouldn’t let it drop.

“I’m of the royal blood too. I can’t just stand by and watch the people get hurt for nothing.”

“You’re a woman. You’ll be married off to another kingdom someday. Leave the affairs of this land to Darius and the others. They’ve been taught what needs to be taught.”

“That’s just following your way of doing things, isn’t it? I’m telling you—it won’t work.”

Prince Darius and Prince Yugo had both been taught politics thoroughly, just in case they ever took the throne. The king had educated them both to follow his own way—exactly as he did. Watching from the side, Ines saw her brothers learning the king’s methods without question, and that’s when she decided she had to act.

“You still only know your little world—the real one. You’re seeing a different world than Darius and the others.”

“Wanting to end wars for the people—how could that be small?”

Ines’s plea. The king flatly rejected it.

“Trivial. What a royal family seeks is national progress. The people are just tools for that.”

“With that kind of thinking, the nation will fall apart. If you don’t save the people suffering now, they’ll turn against you!”

“Is that why you sent the Guard Knight to steal the generator?”

The king, of course, knew that Ines had deliberately rerouted the generator’s delivery.

Ines, having already accepted she’d be found out, didn’t flinch. She stood tall and answered without hesitation.

“Yes.”

“Selfish nonsense. Do you have any idea how much this has thrown off the plan?”

“Let the war keep going—let it collapse. I don’t care.”

“Your selfish actions have caused trouble for countless people. Theft of the generator included. You’re under indefinite suspension. You won’t leave your room until I say so.”

That meant she’d be confined until the end of this great invasion.

The king had no intention of involving Ines in military matters again. So, with finality, he delivered what he’d planned to say.

“Also, while you’re suspended, I’ll be arranging a meeting with your fiancé. Get ready.”

“Ah well,” she said, shrugging.

Ange’s fiancé had existed for ages, true—but she’d never once laid eyes on his face.

She’d been dodging him with one excuse or another all along.

But now, confined to her room, there was nowhere left to run.

She let out a tiny sigh, shifting gears in her plans.

“Wasn’t he the prince from the Kingdom of Welia?”

“Prince Aldo. At least remember your fiancé’s name properly.”

“Honestly, I’d almost forgotten he existed. Right, right—since we’re meeting, I ought to at least learn his tastes.”

Of course, “learning his tastes” meant figuring out exactly how to make him dislike her.

“That’s enough. Return to your room. Your confinement has already begun.”

“Excuse me.”

She judged further talk pointless and bowed out with clean grace.

Ines returned to her room and sighed, sipping tea from the maid’s hand.

She knew it all too well—still, she couldn’t stomach the way her father treated the people so casually. And she felt hollow, too, at her own helplessness, at not being able to reach him at all.

“Seemed to back down pretty easily, didn’t you? Honestly, I thought you’d fight harder.”

The maid, handing over the tea, gave her a look at how quickly Ines had stepped back.

“Arguing there wouldn’t change anything. Your father still doesn’t understand.”

“Understand what?”

“That controlling war is impossible. Sure, he said it was within expected limits—but even so, it was skating right on the edge. If they’d pushed any further, the capital would’ve been hit. ‘Expected limits’? More like ‘tolerable limits,’ wouldn’t you say?”

Even if they broke through the second defensive line, there’s still the final line to contend with. But if that becomes a battlefield, it’ll inevitably disrupt the merchants’ supply routes—and that means life in the capital could start to crumble.

So, from the perspective of the people living in the capital or nearby, the second line was… pretty much the edge of the wire.

Proof of that? Reinforcements poured into every other line except the one Eld headed toward.

Ines thinks that’s just how frantic her father must’ve been.

Still, the words she had weren’t strong enough to shake him—her father, who claimed to be keeping the war under control.

“To make him rethink his stance… we’d need something bigger. Something completely unexpected.”

“What?”

“My knight is the key to it all. One singular, out-of-the-ordinary power—enough to throw any plan completely off course. That’s why Father had Eld pulled from the front lines, citing the Lion’s Medal as reason. And now, this war has proven just how much power he truly holds.”

The king had said, half a year ago, that a major correction was needed. That Eld’s actions had thrown the whole plan into chaos.

But just proving that much… was more than enough for this round.

“I want this country to be peaceful. I think it’s wrong to use war to stir up industry. That’s why—”

“Why?”

“I’ll stop the war with the Overd Empire.”

She said it with steel in her eyes, voice clear and final.

Through the town beyond the buffer zone, Armunale trudged forward, a person slung over its shoulder.

Around it, a group of mercenaries followed in a wagon train, silent and watchful.

It’s the Forze from Du Riveple.

Both arms, shattered by Eld, have been replaced with the Abnomyle devices Rayla brought—clumsy, perhaps, but at least they’ve got the shape of a human body now.

“Finally made it back.”

“This town’s thriving, isn’t it? I thought it’d be all frontier outpost, what with being near the border and all. Thought the base would be the center of everything.”

Jakarta and Kailen are base cities—sprawled outward from the central fortress. But this town in Overdo? The base is just a little thing tucked on the edge, while the streets hum with locals and merchants. Nothing like Fatal.

Forze answers the question.

“Yeah, well, they don’t come charging over here, do they? You can build up in peace, even near the border.”

“Ah. Now I see just how useless their king really is.”

You seem to really hate that Fatal king, don’t you? Mind if I ask why?

Well, you’ve gotta talk when you meet the leader, even if you don’t wanna, right?

Mm, that’s true.

Right now, Layra’s position is that of a collaborator with the mercenaries. To officially join their ranks, she’d need approval from Elshard—the leader of this mercenary band.

She knows Forzé recommended her, so it’s practically a done deal. But since she’s from Fatal and trained at the Academy, she’d need a solid reason not to be turned away.

I was traveling through villages near the border after I got rejected in the Academy’s final selection.

Oh yeah? Isn’t it tough being a woman on the road alone?

I was still in my Academy uniform, so surprisingly safe. The villagers treated me with extra kindness.

So that’s why the uniform matters.

So I watched the villagers, studied the town, listened to all their stories—and it hit me. The king of this country, Fatal, doesn’t want to end the war. Doesn’t care about protecting us, not really.

That was Layra’s conclusion.

It took months, moving from village to village, hearing about the travel bans, the aid payments, the tax breaks.

If I’d stayed in one place all my life, I probably wouldn’t have questioned any of it.

But Layra had finished her Academy training. She’d seen the bigger picture. And now she wondered why.

At the Academy, they never taught that villages had to be taxed for food in emergencies.

You might borrow land on the road, sure—but never food. Not ever. The Armunale squad always had enough rations to spare. No way they’d run out in the buffer zone. Not in a thousand years.

Honestly, there was no reason to grow food in a place as dangerous as that. Just grow it safely on the western side. If it wasn’t enough, trade with friendly nations. No need to risk lives like this.

That’s when it clicked. This was bait.

“The king’s using us as bait, luring Overd’s invasion. Then he’s using the chaos to push forward magic-tech and industry—especially Armunale’s heavy industries. Iron forged in blood, that’s what this is.”

“Guess that’s how it is. Well, for mercenaries, it’s a blessing in disguise.”

As long as there’s war, mercenaries never go hungry.

Now that I think about it—what we took for granted as Overd’s aggression was actually thanks to Fatal. Honestly, I’d almost bow to the king right now.

“But then why’d you come here, really? If you wanna stop the war, why not just become a knight and tell the king yourself?”

“How many years’ll it take? By then, thousands’ll have suffered for years.”

“Isn’t that the same here?”

“No. Here, we can actually do something.”

“That’s why you came. So what’s that something?”

Folzé’s smile lingered as she asked, and Rayla looked up from the Armunale—after so long, at last, at the clear sky.

“We’ll start a full war. No point in petty clashes. Just a fight to the finish—until one country’s gone.”