It was only a few days later that the large-scale deployment from the Anatolia Empire was decided.
Strictly speaking, it wasn't a deployment. A large number of mercenaries had simply been hired under a military commander named Elisabeth. The issue was the scale of those mercenaries. Fifteen thousand mercenaries were currently sailing from the Anatolia Empire toward the Kingdom of Sardinia.
Even that was rumored to be only the first deployment. The Anatolian Foreign Minister's remarks had hinted that a second or even third deployment was entirely possible, depending on circumstances.
"......"
I tapped the desk in my office with my finger.
Something was off.
I had at least believed Elisabeth entered this war to help Sardinia. But to rely on a foreign power in a situation like this?
At this rate, even if the Kingdom of Sardinia won, it would end up owing an enormous debt to the Anatolia Empire—directly or indirectly. They'd have to hand over a city, or at the very least find themselves politically bound hand and foot.
The Kingdom of Sardinia had already completely lost all trust in international diplomacy. The Habsburg Republic's involvement could still be explained away—they were allies, after all, so there was some room for justification. But Anatolia was an undeniable third party. International opinion had clearly turned its back on Sardinia.
...It was Elisabeth. Of course it was Elisabeth who had persuaded them.
The death of the Grand Duke of Florence had dealt a severe blow to the Sardinian royal court.
While they despaired that they would be utterly helpless and crushed by us, Elisabeth seduced the court. She told them that if they brought the Anatolia Empire into the fold, they could certainly turn the tide of war...
Sardinia and Anatolia had already sealed their deal. What Anatolia provided was military force. What Sardinia gave in return was something of lesser value than the Piacenza-Parma-Milan region... in other words, something they considered "better than losing to us."
And what was that?
If I couldn't figure this part out, neither Elisabeth's intentions nor Anatolia's objectives would become clear. I detested fighting a war under ambiguous circumstances.
"......"
The one who brokered the deal was none other than Elisabeth herself.
In other words, this deal had to be quite profitable for Elisabeth. Otherwise, there would be no reason for her to go through the trouble of dragging Anatolia into this and persuading Sardinia. What was Elisabeth's profit? That was the key question.
After a long while, I murmured.
……I see. So you're ceding Venice.
The Kingdom of Sardinia would lease—or rather, cede—Venice to the Anatolia Empire. That was the contract condition. There was no mistaking it.
First, from Sardinia's perspective, handing over Venice was a far cheaper price than losing Milan, Piacenza, and Parma in their entirety. They might think of it as the cost of winning the war.
Second, from the Anatolia Empire's perspective, gaining a major city and trade hub was nothing but a net benefit.
Third, Elisabeth... if Venice became Anatolia's territory, the Republic would break free from its isolation. They could freely exchange with the outside world through Venice. A port friendly to their nation would be established.
But there was one problem here.
Why specifically fifteen thousand mercenaries?
If they truly wanted to win the war, they should have dispatched around fifty thousand troops. Getting Venice in exchange for lending fifty thousand soldiers would be far from an unfavorable deal. Fifteen thousand was too half-hearted. That wasn't nearly enough to overwhelm us.
Could Elisabeth be thinking that by combining her own fifteen thousand with Anatolia's fifteen thousand, a total of thirty thousand would be more than enough to defeat us?
No way. Elisabeth was the greatest mercenary master of her era. There was no way she hadn't assessed Laura's capabilities. Overwhelming Laura in battle was absolutely not an easy feat.
If that was the case, there was only one conclusion.
"You have no intention of winning the war, Elisabeth."
The corners of my lips curled slightly upward.
I understood what she was thinking.
I never expected her to take this approach. Should I say it exceeded my expectations? Or that it was beyond what I anticipated? Very well, Elisabeth. Let me match wits with your intentions this time. Let's see how far you can keep up.
I activated the crystal orb resting on my desk. After a moment, a transparent curtain of light seeped outward, projecting a figure. It was Saint Longwy.
"It's been a while. Are the troops being recruited well? I hope our adopted daughter proved useful."
—Yes, it's been a while. Miss Daisy is more than capable. Thanks to her, we recruited mercenaries without any trouble. She's such a kind-hearted girl that you'd never guess she was your daughter.
I let out an involuntary chuckle. Kind-hearted? Who? Daisy? That had to be a joke. In all my years living, I had never met a person as vicious as Daisy.
—If you don't have anything in particular, I'd rather not talk to you.
"Oh, is that so? I find talking with the Saint especially enjoyable, even without any particular business. Have you had dinner? Sardinia has such clear skies — it's quite lovely."
—I'll hang up. I'm hanging up now.
She said it with such conviction that I raised my hand to stop her.
"Very well. Let me get straight to the point, Saint Longwy. The time has come to act."
—...Are you sure? We're a full month ahead of the original plan.
The crimson-haired Saint's expression turned serious.
"The plan has changed. Who could have predicted that the Anatolia Empire would intervene so aggressively? Thanks to that, our timetable has been accelerated as well. Now there isn't a single neighboring nation left that would criticize us for making our move."
—But we haven't yet contacted Her Majesty...
"Oh. I can assure you, the Queen of Bretagne would be overjoyed if we could move even a single day sooner. From what I've been hearing through the grapevine, the nobles back home are on the verge of rebellion — quite the predicament, I hear?"
—....
"The ambitious Frank campaign ended in failure, and the humiliating treaty they were forced to sign has completely cut off their path of expansion onto the continent. No wonder the nobles' discontent is running so deep. *Sigh.* What a shame."
—What exactly are you trying to say?
"What I'm saying is, shouldn't we win over the nobles' favor? We need to throw them a gift. Saint Longwy — the queen you so dearly serve is standing in a fire right now. Contact her. Quickly."
The Saint fell silent.
She wasn't about to refuse at this point, was she? The Saint needed to steel herself as well. This was like a landslide — once it started, there was no stopping it until it had run its full course. About a minute passed, and the Saint seemed to have recommitted herself, staring at me with renewed determination.
—No. There's no need to seek Her Majesty's permission. I'll deliver the report myself.
"Oh my. Are you saying you'll take full responsibility personally?"
—Yes. Passing the blame to someone else would be cowardly. And if anyone is going to start this, it will be me.
The Saint spoke with unwavering resolve, every word crisp and deliberate.
—Effective today, the Kingdom of Bretagne enters the war on your nation's side.
"Consul! This is a disaster!"
Kurz Schleiermacher burst into the office set up in Florence. Elisabeth, on the other hand, wore an utterly bored expression. She had both feet propped up on her desk and hadn't looked away from the documents.
"What's all the fuss? Is there anything in this world that qualifies as a 'disaster' from your perspective?"
"No, this is no time for jokes. The Empire has ceded Genoa to another nation!"
"..."
Elisabeth lowered her legs and straightened her chair.
"Now that is genuinely a 'disaster.' Report."
"It's Bretagne! Damn it all, Consul — it was Bretogne. An absolute farce!"
Kurz clutched his chest, still catching his breath from sprinting at full speed, and gnashed his teeth. Elisabeth was somewhat taken aback. It was rare to see Kurz this furious.
"Bretagne would lack sufficient justification to enter the war directly. What happened?"
"...To be precise, it wasn't Bretagne itself. Jacqueline Longwy, the Saint. The officially ranked First Seat Saint of the Grand Temple of Athena. The Empire handed Genoa over to the Saint on humanitarian grounds."
Kurz managed to compose his voice and continued his report.
"As you know, the Empire is merciless toward prisoners of war. Just as they did at Pavia, they intended to sell every last citizen of Genoa into slavery. Cities in the Frankish south had already expressed interest in purchasing them..."
"And the Saint intervened midway."
Elisabeth immediately visualized the entire sequence of events in her mind.
Citizens about to be sold off en masse as slaves. Frankish cities lining up to buy them. At the critical moment, Jacqueline Longwy — the pacifist and symbol of reconciliation — steps forward and declares, "You cannot do this!"... A magnificent scenario.
"Isn't that right, Kurz?"
"Correct. The cities of the Frankish south owed the Saint favors. They quietly backed down. The Empire furiously protested that a Saint had no business meddling in wars between nations..."
"And then the Grand Temple of Athena covered the cost of the slaves in their stead."
Elisabeth smiled.
Kurz let out a sigh.
"…You already knew?"
"No. I'd call it a brilliantly staged piece of theater. Exactly the sort of trick Dantalion would pull. I thought he might try to win someone over, but it was Bretagne. So what ended up happening with Genoa?"
"Well. You can guess."
Kurz said, not bothering to hide his distaste.
"'The Saintess saved us all. If not for her, every last one of us would have been sold into slavery.' They put on quite the tearful spectacle, crying their eyes out for anyone with eyes to see… The Empire threatened that if they were going to pull something like that, they should just buy the entire city outright, and the Grand Temple accepted."
The net result was that Genoa's owner simply changed from a kingdom to the Grand Temple — but every right and every asset of its citizens remained fully preserved.
Kurz Schleiermacher added that the reputation of the Longwy Saintess, who had pulled this off, was skyrocketing beyond measure.
Recently, the Longwy Saintess had been unstoppable. Crying out for the peace of the continent, the peace of the races, she had actually brokered several negotiations. At the last Republican Representative Assembly, she had even been caught in a suicide bombing. A Saintess who held nothing back and devoted herself entirely to peace — that was the impression people had of her.
The reality was that she was Bretagne's errand girl.
It was a distorted image, manufactured end to end by Dantalion, who had sought to use the religious world as his tool. The Saintess had willingly allowed herself to be used by Dantalion — in exchange for securing certain benefits for the Kingdom of Bretagne.
"The problem is that neither the Grand Temple nor the Saintess has any military force. Consul, do you know who the Longwy Saintess asked for reinforcements?"
At Kurz's question, Elisabeth was able to produce the answer with remarkable ease.
"Henrietta, I imagine."
Henrietta de Bretagne, Queen of Bretagne.
A sovereign who had designated the Goddess Athena as the state religion and was known to share a deep personal bond with the Saintess. The one and only heroine to whom the Longwy Saintess pledged her genuine loyalty.
"So that's what Dantalion was after."
A trace of amusement slipped from the corner of Elisabeth's lips.
"Just as I knew he would wage war, Dantalion likewise knew I would enter it. Once our Republic joins the fight, the Empire gains the pretext to drag in yet another third party."
"A damned situation, but it seems your prediction is correct, Consul."
Kurz thumped a stack of documents onto the table.
"This is the roster of forces Saint Jacqueline Longwy has personally rallied. The agreement was only reached yesterday, yet the Saint has already recruited over four thousand mercenaries. All cavalry, at that."
"The timing is almost too perfect."
"According to the official announcement, they intend to dispatch them as a peacekeeping force toward Polytonia. A load of rubbish, Consul. The Empire planned to drag Bretagne into this from the very beginning!"
Thus, Sardinia became the staging ground where armies from across the entire continent converged—the forces of the Habsburg Empire, the Kingdom of Sardinia, the Anatolia Empire, the Kingdom of Bretagne…
Elisabeth gently closed both eyes.
'Very well, Dantalion. I'll see this through to the end.'
—Henrietta and she now stood on opposing sides.
She could do nothing but smile in deep admiration for the man who had penned such a script.
And the Second Chrysanthemum War accelerated in a direction no nation had anticipated.