Six

It didn’t take long to get from the first town of Belgio to the capital.

The roads were well-maintained, sure—but the real reason was simpler. The country was just small.

A vast forest, squeezed between mountains and the empire. That was Belgio’s land.

By size alone, it might’ve been impressive. But cutting down the thick, overgrown trees? Nearly impossible. Only about a third of the land was even fit to live on.

So everything—schools, inns, forges—had to crowd into one town. And that’s how the few big towns we’ve got today came to be.

Eld left the front lines to guard, and Ines, ahead of him, stepped into the capital and thought:

Wow.

A massive town, suddenly rising from the heart of the great forest. The trees themselves were like a natural fortress, so the town walls were low. From the road, you could see straight into the heart of it.

Houses stood shoulder to shoulder, all three stories tall, built of wood. Smoke curled from their chimneys—white, thin threads rising into the air, whispering of lives lived inside.

Planks of wood were laid across the road, smoothed out so you could walk without tripping.

A cart rumbled through the town, its wheels creaking with that familiar, steady rhythm. Kids chased each other along the roadside, laughing.

It felt less like a kingdom on the brink of war and more like a place that had forgotten what war even was.

“Is this really the capital of Belgio? Seems awfully quiet.”

In the carriage, Ines murmured her thoughts aloud. The only one to answer was Aise, assigned to guard her.

“Peaceful to the point of blindness. This country’s never been invaded.”

They’ve never known the fear of capture. Never felt the hopelessness of seeing their homes go up in flames.

Which is why, even with the war’s tide three days’ ride away, they still walk the streets as if nothing’s changed. Still cook. Still laugh. Still live.

Ah, so how much does Eis know about Belgio?

I… was a spy for a little while while I was in the Empire.

Cut the formalities. You’re not good at talking, are you? Easier words, for both of us—clearer meaning.

Thank you.

Eis was raised never to show his face. So conversation was kept to a bare minimum—just one-way messages, never real back-and-forth. He never learned how to speak with others, not really.

Which is why he can say what needs saying, blunt and straight—but he can’t manage the proper tone for nobles, royalty, or anyone above him.

Ines knows this. So she lets it slide, just this once.

So, Belgio?

“The king right now is Mondor del Belgio. Forty-seven, in good health. The queen is Nevel, thirty-eight. The heir apparent is Prince Lieve, twenty, next is Princess Louinel, twenty-two. That’s all the children.”

“Surprisingly few, aren’t they?”

Ines thought of her own family—five siblings—and found it odd that a royal family would have only two children.

She’d heard that in the Empire, there were fifteen or more heirs, counting bastards, and even in the Duchy of Welia, to the northwest of Fatal, they’d managed two sons at least.

Having just one son seemed downright risky for a nation.

“Some say they avoided succession disputes. Stability at home, and low risk of assassination, are also cited as reasons.”

“Huh. So that’s what peace does—makes you careless, huh?”

"If the realm’s stable, eliminating succession disputes makes sense. Five assassinations confirmed in the Empire alone."

"Oh? The Empire’s gotten that bad?"

Ines’s eyes widened at the unexpected tidbit.

"Three more cases of unclear judgment. The Imperial Palace’s always tense—like a storm brewing. Even from the back, you could feel the sharp air, prickling your skin."

"A place I’d rather not go, but I’ll have to one day, I suppose."

"Your lord’s command. Not a scratch allowed."

"I’m counting on you."

After confirming details on trade resources and industry, Ines’s carriage passed through the city gate leading to the palace.

Before them stretched massive wooden gates.

A line of soldiers stood in formation, clearing a path for their carriage.

The carriage rolled forward along the path and stopped at the gate’s threshold.

The door swung open right away, and a voice called out from inside.

“Ah, you must be the envoy from Fatal Kingdom?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll be your guide—my name is Coino.”

A woman bowed deeply before the carriage, her robes so elaborate that Eld, if he’d been there, would’ve stared in shock.

“Please, this way. I’ll take you to your rooms.”

Eise stepped down first, glancing around. Then, taking the hand Eise offered, Ines stepped down from the carriage.

The attendants scurried to unload the luggage, carrying it inside with the staff from Belgio.

“Hearing about it one thing… but seeing it? Strange, isn’t it?”

That was Ines’s first thought, quiet and sudden, like a whisper in the air.

Different from Fatal and Overdo’s architecture. The five-story castle, built not of stone but of interwoven wood, stood with a grace that still felt beautiful, even with the natural wood color left bare. It carried, unmistakably, the air of a king’s residence.

Following the guide, we stepped inside.

The floor was carpeted with the same soft, fluffy rugs as in Fatal, and furnishings were scattered here and there.

“Please, this room has been prepared for you. We’ve also set up a nearby room for your belongings and any companions you may have.”

Inside the room, a wall of glass stretched out in every direction, offering a sweeping view of the great forest and the mountain range beyond.

Pretty good view, if you ask me.

The interior featured a long table suitable for meetings, and beside it, a sofa big enough to lounge on with ten people at once.

A door led off to another room, probably a bedroom.

“Nice room. Thanks.”

“If there’s anything else you need, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Later, I’d like to check the meeting schedule—send someone who knows the details. How about an hour from now?”

“Understood. Excuse me.”

The guide bowed and left. In their place, the side attendants and Orell’s knight squad stepped inside.

“Luggage has been brought in. I’ve brought the documents you might need—where should I put them?”

“On the table. And, any word from Eld?”

Ines asked Orell while giving instructions to the side attendant.

“Not yet. I expect him any moment now.”

“Yeah. Would’ve been nice to have the intel before the meeting.”

How things were going on the front line—Ines was thinking, that’d decide how much help we’d give to Belgio.

If they can handle it themselves, Eld should be pulled back sooner rather than later. But if it’s getting out of hand, then Eld’ll have to do some real work.

Right now, judging by the state of the country, Ines felt like Eld’d have to work hard—still, she kept preparing for the talks.

And just about an hour in, the door to the room was knocked.

“Who is it?”

“Minister Forel, at your service. I’ve come to offer my greetings and discuss the schedule ahead.”

The voice from outside, Ines nodded, and Eis opened the door.

A man in his late years stood there. His hair was gone—completely—though his white beard made up for it, thick and long.

And behind him, a young man, still just a boy.

Nice to meet you. Second Princess Ines. I’m Foral Nostalge, Prime Minister of the Kingdom of Belgio.

Thank you for coming all this way. Ines Norbelle Fatal, at your service. I’m here as an envoy this time. And the young man behind—assuming my memory serves—must be Prince Lube, the First Prince, if I’m not mistaken.

Ines turned her gaze toward the man.

The figure standing half-hidden behind Foral’s shadow was an exact match for the portrait of Belgio’s First Prince, Lube del Belgio, she’d seen in the carriage.

Pleased to meet you, Second Princess Ines. I’m Lube del Belgio. This time, I’m accompanying Foral as his assistant—here to learn, that’s all.

Ah, I see.

Lube’s twenty-one—already an adult, and most of his royal education was behind him. Still, hands-on experience with negotiations? That was something he just didn’t have yet. So now, assisting Foral, he’s learning diplomacy firsthand.

“Right away, then—about the negotiations to come, let’s go over the plan.”

“Yes, please.”

He gestured for her to take a seat, and Ines settled across from him.

Surrounded by Guard Knights and Belgio’s soldiers, the meeting began.

“First off, our position remains the same as before. A condemnation of the Overd Empire, and a hint at joint military action.”

“That’s the same answer we gave last time. Belgio’s already at war with the Empire. We simply don’t have the slack to meet your request.”

Yes, I know. On the way here, I managed to pick up a little intel on the fighting between Belge and Overd. So, here’s my proposal— if you’re willing to seriously consider our request, I’ll lend you one of my Guard Knights, how’s that?

“Your Guard Knight?!”

Foale’s eyes widened at Ines’s offer, and Lube gasped aloud.

“Yes. He’s currently detached, scouting the Empire’s movements, but I’ve kept him within reach—ready to intervene at my command. A bit drastic, wouldn’t you say?”

“That… well…”

Foale hesitated, as if he couldn’t bear admitting his own country was losing, or perhaps didn’t want to hand over intelligence too easily in negotiation.

But his gesture said it all.

“We don’t know why this country’s been targeted by the Empire, but judging by how much force they’re throwing in, they’re serious. That means there’s something worth fighting over here, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah… maybe we should let them know.”

“Lady Rube, that’s—”

“No, I think we should. If we don’t, we might just be inviting the next war.”

Ines’s words shook him. Rube opened his mouth to speak. Foyle stopped him.

But Rube wasn’t just reacting. He’d thought it through. As a royal, he’d decided this information needed to be shared.

“Do you know what Berjio’s main industry is?”

“Yes, the minerals—and the magical stones unearthed as byproducts, used to power special weapons, right?”

“That’s right. And that’s exactly what’s behind this.”

"Wanting the magic stones—magic liquid, Magiakid, is it? But just a byproduct amount—wait, surely not!?"

"Yes. A large-scale magic stone vein was discovered deep in the Beldgio Forest. The Empire found out and launched an invasion on our land."

"So that’s what this is about."

Every country now has at least one magic stone vein. But with Overdo and Fatal both developing Abnomyle machines powered by Magiakid at nearly the same time, demand for magic stones has skyrocketed.

Higher demand means prices shoot up. Even if we import from elsewhere, we’ll be at the mercy of others—no way to keep fighting a war then.

So if a magic stone vein shows up in Beldgio? Wanting it... well, that’s just natural, isn’t it?

“Our country’s still got enough veins at home, but the Empire? They can’t afford to be picky, can they?”

Sounds like the Overd Empire’s being squeezed from the sides, but really it’s just about how many wars they’re fighting at once.

If there’s a decisive battle somewhere, the troops there get flung to another front. Before that happens, Ines is certain they’ll need to finish the encirclement.

“If the Empire’s after magic stones, then their push will only grow stronger from now on. In the end, the only thing that can stand against Armunale is Armunale itself. That’s never changed, even if Abnomule shows up. If we can accept that… well, there might still be room to talk?”

“…I suppose that’s true. But if it comes to that, I’m not sure I can decide on my own. I’ll need to check with Her Majesty first.”

Even if he’s the prime minister, he can’t decide everything on his own.

Sure, he’s got authority—but he’s still just the kingdom’s number two.

“It’s fine. My knight will send word straight away. We can wait until we’ve seen it before making a move. Until then, my knight will hold the front lines. I don’t want any meddling in the negotiations.”

“Thank you. Then I’ll return for now and look into it urgently. For today, that’s all.”

“Yes.”

They shook hands once more, and the meeting ended.

Catherine arrived in the capital with a letter from Eld two hours after the talks had begun.

“Lady Ines, I’ve kept you waiting.”

“Thank you.”

Taking the letter from Catherine’s outstretched hand, I asked about the situation on the ground.

My reaction to it—

“Seems like things’ve gotten rather interesting, don’t they? A princess on the rise, a commander plucked from the ranks, special gear, guerrilla tactics—doesn’t that push the nation a bit too far into the corner?”

“Yes, that’s about right. If Eld hadn’t stepped in, I reckon the first town would’ve been taken by now.”

“This might end sooner than expected, actually.”

“Yes. The Second Princess herself has sent word asking for our involvement in the fighting.”

That letter’s already been handed over to the Berjio side.

Once they read it, the talks we’re having should go smoothly enough.

“Got the situation. So, is Catherine heading back over there?”

“No. She’s been ordered to stay here and guard us, so she’ll be joining us shortly.”

“Understood. Set up the division of duties with Orell and the others.”

“Yes.”

“Now that we know how our knight’s moving, we might as well take a bolder stance in these talks.”

Before the real negotiations ahead, Ines imagined her own last cards and what the other side might demand.

◇

Night. The great forest was swallowed by darkness, and human eyes could no longer serve their purpose.

Yet there were those who moved even then.

They sent signals with sounds like birdcalls, checking each other’s positions.

Slowly, but surely, they tightened the noose, watching the enemy’s every move.

“Armunale’s here. That’s Fatal’s.”

“So Berjio asked for help.”

“Troublesome. Lucky it’s just one. Kill the pilot, and we can handle anything.”

“That’s our job.”

“Exactly.”

The encircling force completed their formation, and silently, assassins crept toward the camp.

And then—

“Twin Flame Circle Tridicaple (13-fold), setup. Start!”

A sudden roar of flame—blazing up in a ring that circled the entire camp, then forming a second ring inside it.

Trapped between the two, the men were penned in.

“Nah, nah, not even close.”

“Who the hell—?”

“Fatal Kingdom, First Guard Armunale Division, Second Princess’s Personal Guard Support Maid, Ange. Touching Eld-kun? That’s a no-go.”

“Damn it!”

The assassins tried to quell the flames before them with whatever magic they had. But Ange’s full-powered fire wouldn’t go out so easily. If anything, it flared stronger, sucking oxygen fast from around the men.

“This won’t work…”

“Captain, let me—”

“Sorry.”

In a breath, they made their choice.

Two men linked arms—then one sacrificed himself, unleashing the spell.

It sent the other one flying outward, beyond the flames.

“For Overdo!”

They shouted it in unison, and those left within the fire collapsed, poisoned, right there on the spot.

Even as that happened, the ones who’d been saved surged toward Ange.

“Gonna kill you for sure.”

“A royal attendant. Give it your all.”

They rushed her, knives in hand, holding her at bay with magic.

Ange watched them coming, a smirk curling at the corner of her mouth.

“Cute. As assassins, as fighters—totally second-rate.”

She pulled out the weapons the Berjio soldiers had carried. Grenades.

“Flame Shield.”

She raised a wall of fire around herself, then tossed a grenade at the feet of her attackers.

In an instant, a blinding explosion tore through the men who’d charged her—sent them flying back like leaves in a storm.

The ones who’d barely survived were too badly wounded to move, groaning in pain.

Ange leaned in toward one of them, peering into his face.

“Hmm… not dead… I guess. But doesn’t seem to be holding anything useful, does he?”

If they were assassins, maybe they answered to a different command than the main force. Still, a team that could fail—why would they have anything important?

“Ah well. Just hand them over.”

Ange raised her right hand where she stood. Instantly, soldiers from Belgio burst from the shadows of the tent.

They swiftly bound the surviving assassins, gave them basic care, then carried them off somewhere.

Watching them go, a voice spoke from behind her.

“Your strength… incredible. I’d love to have someone like you on my side.”

She turned around—and there stood Luneir. Her usual tank top and half-pants, bathed in the glow of embers still smoldering in the dark night.

“Anytime. But sorry. I’m Eld’s girl.”

“Huh, not Fatal… but his, huh?”

“Yep. His wife.”

“Kinda jealous of him.”

“Don’t you have a husband or fiancé, Lady Luneir?”

“Ah, I figured I had time. Guess I just… ended up this age.”

Ange thought, well, yeah, that’s probably true.

“So, what kind of person do you like? Might be hiding in the squad leader ranks, you know?”

“They? Well, even setting rank aside, they’re still not there yet. Not strong enough to carry me. I’m looking for someone who’ll pull me forward—someone who really *drags* me along.”

“Might be tough to find, then.”

Not many people out there can pull a royal with the kind of charisma it takes to lead a whole army. Even other nobles’d struggle, wouldn’t they?

“Don’t know. They’re all pushing their ideas hard enough. As long as you keep thinking, you keep climbing higher. Maybe someone’ll come along—one I’d actually want to follow.”

“Ah. So you’re raising them, then.”

“Kuk. Maybe that’s one way to put it. Well, looks like the retrieval’s done. We’re exposed now—gonna be moving out by morning. Ange, you’d best get some sleep.”

If assassins are coming, that means the enemy knows where we are. Which means the next wave’ll be Abnomyle’s crew.

That’ll mean bloodshed. We’ve already got countermeasures in motion. No need to fight here.

We’re set to begin the operation just before the attack on the town.

"Yes, then, excuse me."

Ange gave a small bow and stepped away from René.

René watched her go, then turned back toward her own tent.

And there, in the shadow, a man clenching his fist.

Tron, quietly thrilled at the possibility, stoked the dying embers with his gaze, steeling himself.

Next time…

The counterattack—begins