"An enemy force is gathering in the direction of Transylvania."
"There are also reports of the Royal Knights Order being sighted, Commander."
"The size of the enemy force is uncertain, but it will be at least seventeen thousand."
The command tent.
Four Demon Lords and about a dozen Demonkin commanders surrounded the tactical table. The highest-ranking among them muttered.
"The Twin-Winged Knights… apostles of red and white, are they."
Demon Lord Marbas. His careful and seasoned gaze slowly swept across the map. A Neutral Faction Demon Lord standing beside Marbas shrugged his shoulders.
"One of the knight orders that claim to be the strongest on the continent. Since the Rose of Bretagne fell last time, I suppose they can be acknowledged as the truly strongest."
"Hm."
Those ashen-gray pupils rarely revealed emotion, yet they always seemed to be gazing directly at something. The Demon Lords belonging to the Neutral Faction felt as though they had stepped into a quiet forest whenever they met Marbas's gaze.
Unemotional. Yet unmistakable. Sometimes calmness can be more intense than passion. The Demon Lords had experienced this truth time and again through the towering figure that was Marbas.
That must be why. Why Demon Lords continued to gather under the Neutral Faction, even if only in small numbers. It wasn't simply because they sympathized with the Neutral Faction's ideology. It was because they had fallen for the character of this man—Marbas—who had weathered the ages for millennia without wavering.
When he suddenly came to his senses, he found Marbas's gaze directed at him.
"Furson. Is there something you wish to ask me?"
"Ah."
Oh no. The Neutral Faction Demon Lord silently reproached himself. He had been staring too intently at Marbas's face. The Demon Lord quickly racked his brain for an excuse, then decided to simply answer honestly.
"It's just that you are far too composed, Commander. I couldn't help but be awed."
"As you yourself said, have we not plucked the Rose of Bretagne before?"
"At that time, the entire Demon Lord army was on the move. Right now, only our Neutral Faction is deployed on the front lines. The situation is different."
Currently, the Habsburg Empire found itself embroiled in a border conflict with the Kingdom of Polithunia.
The cause lay in the Eighth Crescent Alliance Army. Even after the Crescent Alliance Army had seized the Habsburg Empire, the Neutral Faction had pivoted and launched an invasion into the Kingdom of Polithunia. They hadn't achieved any spectacular results, but they had captured five baronies.
Marbas had invaded the kingdom with an entirely political calculus.
First and foremost, he couldn't very well let the Plains Faction steal all the glory.
To put it somewhat dramatically, the Eighth Crescent Alliance Army had been the Plains Faction's solo show. To be more precise, it was a war play conceived by Dantalion, directed by Dantalion, and performed by Dantalion. There was a real risk that among the Demonkin, the Plains Faction would become overwhelmingly popular going forward.
The Demonkin would criticize them, no doubt. While the Plains Faction was laboring alone and shedding blood, what were the rest of the factions doing? They call themselves the Neutral Faction, but in reality they're nothing more than opportunists looking out only for personal safety and self-preservation.
To prevent such a scenario before it could arise, Marbas had invaded the kingdom.
In the end, Marbas's judgment proved outstanding.
The Plains Faction, in the midst of a reckless pursuit, had stumbled into Consul Elizabeth's ambush and been routed. Meanwhile, the Neutral Faction, having turned its attention toward Polithunia, reaped modest but tangible gains.
Among the Demonkin, those who were swept up by arguments of principle praised the Plains Faction, while those with a more pragmatic outlook commended Marbas's prudence.
— The ideals of the Plains Faction are righteous, and all Demonkin should naturally support them.
— However, when we discuss ideals, our feet must remain firmly planted on the ground. The Neutral Faction has shown us a highly exemplary case of what the middle path between ideals and reality looks like.
This was the prevailing opinion among the Demonkin intelligentsia. Among them, there were quite a few citizens who went so far as to criticize the Plains Faction, arguing that if they had cooperated with the Neutral Faction and invaded the kingdom together, they could have achieved far more.
Though they had ended up in a border dispute with Polithunia, from the Neutral Faction's perspective, this was an immensely satisfying outcome. They gave their leader their unwavering trust and support.
Marbas stroked his neatly trimmed goatee.
"If need be, it would be acceptable to suffer a defeat at the enemy's hands. That is how I view the matter."
"Pardon?"
The Demon Lord blurted out in surprise, his voice rising involuntarily. It wasn't just him, either. The other Neutral Faction Demon Lords who had been listening in on the conversation nearby all widened their eyes in shock.
"What are you saying, Commander? You're willing to abandon territory that took us years to secure?"
"I understand your reluctance perfectly well. But have you already forgotten?"
Marbas swept his gaze across the Demon Lords.
"What we sought to gain through this war was legitimacy — not some measly patch of territory. We've already achieved the operational objectives we set out to meet."
"But… legitimacy is born from results, isn't it? If we give back the territory we just took, won't Demon Realm society condemn us for it?"
The surrounding Demon Lords nodded in agreement with the objection. But Marbas quietly shook his head a couple of times.
"On the contrary. The Demon Realm will condemn the Plains Faction and the Mountain Faction — not us."
"Excuse me?"
Even the Demon Lord who had spoken felt his mind go blank, but he had no choice but to press further.
"Why is that? I would like to hear the Commander's reasoning."
"Didn't you just point it out yourself? Things are different now than they used to be."
Marbas took off his monocle and wiped it with a handkerchief. As though reciting the most obvious fact in the world, he spoke casually while polishing the lens.
"Back then, we were an independent legion. That meant the territory we conquered was solely the credit of us, the Neutral Faction — it was never credited to the Crescent Alliance Army as a whole. But look at the situation now. We are members of the great Habsburg Empire."
"Oh…!"
The Demon Lords immediately grasped Marbas's intent.
"I see. This time, even if we lose the territory, it won't be our fault! Instead, it becomes the fault of the imperial core — the ones who stood by and refused to send us reinforcements!"
"To be precise, it becomes the fault of the Plains Faction and the Mountain Faction."
Marbas put his monocle back in place.
"The Neutral Faction worked hard to earn those gains, and out of sheer jealousy, the others didn't send a single reinforcement. They were so consumed by factional squabbling that they lost sight of the greater cause. That's the narrative that will take shape."
"Indeed… winning by losing…"
The Demon Lords could not hide their admiration. After hearing Marbas's words, the war map laid out on the table began to look entirely different.
How could they stop the kingdom's armies that were gathering in ever-greater numbers? Until just moments ago, they had been staring at that map, tormented by that very question.
Now they found themselves looking at everything from an entirely new angle — specifically, how to make it appear to the world that they had "fought guerrilla warfare to the fullest but were forced to retreat due to insufficient manpower." The very objective of the operation had changed.
"……Instead of a full-scale siege, we should dispatch small squads to relentlessly harass the kingdom's armies."
"Mm. Also, we must quickly evacuate the Demonkin residing within our territory."
"Yes, yes… That way, we can leave a strong impression that we fought for the citizens to the very end!"
A strange fervor spread among the Demon Lords.
The thinking shifted from enduring a war with little hope of victory to fighting a war of tactical defeat but strategic victory. And compared to the former, the latter was far more likely to succeed and brimming with meaning.
"It's not particularly fertile land, anyway. Its value is infinitely low compared to the political gains we would reap."
"Most impressive, Commander. Why did you only share this wisdom with us now?"
The Demon Lords looked at Marbas with wistful expressions.
"If you had told us sooner, we could have made all sorts of preparations accordingly."
There were times when Marbas kept his true thoughts to himself, as he did now. For the Neutral Faction Demon Lords, who held deep respect for Marbas, it was inevitably a disheartening gesture.
For the first time in the meeting, a smile touched Marbas's lips.
"Because this operation will fail."
"……Pardon?"
Marbas chuckled softly. There was a genuinely delighted air mixed in, which left the Demon Lords bewildered. What manner of logic was this — saying the operation would fail and then laughing about it?
"If the operation succeeds, the Neutral Faction will gain a decisive opportunity to seize control of public opinion in the Demon Realm. The popularity of the Plains and Mountain Factions will plummet. It would give us the chance to determine the direction of the Empire."
"Yes, but……."
"But that would only be the case if none of them see through our true intentions."
Marbas gave a light wink with one eye. The playful expression surprisingly suited his stern face.
"Our Empire has one with an extraordinary sense of smell. There is no way that one would fail to sniff out this kind of 'scent.' No matter what it takes, they will scheme from behind the scenes to ensure we lose."
"......Commander."
The Demon Lord spoke in a somewhat exasperated tone.
"Even we, who are standing on the front lines, cannot fathom the Commander's intentions. No — the Commander never revealed those intentions in the first place, so in truth, we haven't taken any action whatsoever. Who could possibly divine intentions that have never been realized, never even been planned?"
"There are those in this world who possess an almost instinctive sense of smell, Purson."
Marbas still wore a look of amusement.
"They view war not through the lens of victory or defeat, but purely through a political one. Whether they intend to or not, there are people who can only see it that way. You yourself are no different, are you?"
"But......"
At that moment, a messenger entered the tent. Every gaze among the Demon Lords snapped toward him. The messenger bore the weight of all those stares — attention he still hadn't grown accustomed to no matter how many times he'd received it — and dropped to one knee.
"Your Excellency. I bring a report."
"Speak."
"An envoy has been dispatched from the Imperial Capital. The envoy is currently among the crowd, requesting an audience with Your Excellency."
Marbas nodded.
"Let them be brought here."
"......Understood."
The messenger answered with a hint of hesitation. Normally, he would have been asked who the envoy was, what they looked like, and what their purpose might be. He had rehearsed his responses dozens of times in preparation for such questions. But having the audience granted without any questions at all struck him as somewhat odd.
Once the messenger had left, Marbas let out a soft chuckle.
"Doesn't seem the patient type. Coming the moment it's even mentioned."
"Don't tell me the Imperial Court detected the Commander's plan and sent an envoy in response?"
Marbas did not answer. His silence was affirmation enough.
The Demon Lords still wore expressions of doubt. Regardless of what those around him thought, Marbas waited in leisure for his guest. A short while later, someone pushed aside the tent flap and stepped inside.
The hunchbacked man swept his gaze across the tent's interior in an instant before finally turning to Marbas.
Surveying his surroundings before anything else had long become habit. It was the same in the past as it was now. Marbas smiled at the man's unchanging ways and offered a welcoming greeting.
"What brings you all the way to such a remote borderland, Law Minister?"
"Borderland? Not at all."
The dark man, Dantalion, approached with a broad smile.
"I am visiting the very heart of the Empire at this moment."