"Guh!"
Elisabeth overtook me and rushed ahead. She was probably heading to help the wounded. The fact that she immediately sprang into action without panicking amid a terrorist attack was truly impressive.
I watched leisurely as the silver hair receded into the distance. Her voice, shouting for anyone who could move to head to the garden, reached me from afar. She must have used Aura to amplify her volume.
I genuinely cheered her on.
Elisabeth rushed into the ballroom. Perhaps due to the aftermath of the explosion, part of the building had collapsed. Dust billowed everywhere, shrouding the area in darkness.
"Anyone who can move, get out to the garden immediately!"
Elisabeth shouted without hesitation. The most dangerous thing in a disaster was secondary damage. The building could completely collapse and block the exits, or a follow-up attack could occur.
Above all, the poor visibility was a problem. Humans were creatures that relied entirely on sight. When an unexpected situation like this arose and visibility was restricted, people easily fell into collective panic. That had to be prevented.
"If there are seriously wounded nearby, call for guards! Guards, respond to rescue requests and move out! Make sure two people always act together."
The guards were still dazed from the confusion, staring blankly at Elisabeth. Elisabeth deliberately put on an expression of fury and roared at them.
"Useless lot! Are you even soldiers with that attitude! Answer me, now!"
"Y-yes, ma'am!"
Elisabeth kicked the nearest guard in the backside. Despite her delicate appearance, she had reached the realm of a Second-Class Warrior. The burly guard toppled to the ground with ease.
"You fools, what good is just answering? Move! Carry the wounded who are calling for help to the garden!"
"Yes!"
People lay scattered among the clouds of dust. Most groaned but managed to struggle to their feet. The damage seemed lighter than the impact would suggest. It was a tremendous relief. If there had been massive casualties here, the summit would have been canceled……
"Those without injuries, please assist the guards!"
Elisabeth directed the rescue effort with secret relief. The chaos subsided, and a temporary organization emerged with Elisabeth at the top.
The fact that she was fluent in every language on the continent contributed greatly to her command. The silver-haired Consul switched between Batavian, Frankish, and Old Imperial in rapid succession, seizing control of the people in an instant. Even though visibility was poor, her voice reached everyone's ears. The language was understood. That was what mattered.
"Any casualties?"
"Yes. As far as we've confirmed, three seriously wounded. Eleven with minor injuries."
The knight in charge of the ballroom's security answered. His face was noticeably pale. An incident had occurred during security for an event of this magnitude. It was a complete failure in terms of career advancement, and depending on how things went, his life could be at stake.
"No deaths."
"That's a relief, all things considered."
Perhaps bodies buried under the rubble hadn't been discovered yet. But the simple fact that no corpses were visible offered a sliver of hope. Maybe the death toll would amount to only one or two at most...
"Captain of the guard, have you managed to figure out how the terrorism occurred? The perpetrator?"
"Who carried out the attack, I regret to say we do not know. However..."
The knight furrowed his brow. He was trying to recall with precision what had happened just moments ago.
"Right before the explosion, we heard someone shout 'Long live Frank.'"
"'Long live Frank'..."
What reason would someone who supposedly cared for Frank have to carry out a terrorist attack here? Elisabeth recalled that this was a staged production orchestrated by Dantalion, and immediately grasped one reason. She asked urgently.
"The Saint of Longueville. Where is the Saint of Bretagne?"
"I beg your pardon?"
The knight could not answer. Elisabeth grew frustrated.
"Who would be the most hated figure to a perpetrator claiming to act in Frank's name? It's the Saint — the symbol of Bretagne and the queen's most faithful advisor. This attack was aimed at the Saint."
Only then did the knight's expression show that he understood.
"I'll verify immediately."
"Run to the garden and shout to see if anyone has spotted the Saint. Time is critical."
The knight rushed off in a hurry.
Elizabeth bit down hard on her lip. She'd been had. Dantalion intended to sacrifice the Saint.
The Saint had come here to advocate for the peaceful coexistence of humanity and the demon race. And now she had been caught in an assassination attempt. Of all places—at a forum bearing the name of the Republican Representative Assembly…
The alliance between the two races would fall through. There would be fierce fighting over who bore responsibility for the Saint's death. The fact that the perpetrator was a Frank was especially vile. How would a treaty concluded under the overwhelming dominance of the Frank Empire now change?
"Your Excellency."
The knight returned in a frantic hurry. Did bad omens always come true? The knight's expression was grim.
"I humbly apologize, but…"
"You couldn't find the Saint?"
"No. There were numerous witnesses. A man approached the Saint and then detonated his own mana… The man has been identified as Baron Pierre de Labierre. He was indeed a Frank."
Elizabeth quickly retraced her memories. The Barony of Labierre. It was undoubtedly a small territory located in central Frank. He had been a court mage of considerable renown, but after Queen Henrietta seized power, various charges were leveled against him and his lands were forcibly stripped away.
That was the extent of what Elizabeth knew, but even that was enough to fill her with the deepest sense of dread. Baron Labierre had every reason to seek revenge against the Saint—against the Kingdom of Bretagne. How Dantalion had lured the Baron, Elizabeth could see it all too clearly before her eyes…
"Captain of the Guard. We must find the Saint from this point forward."
"Understood."
"There should be a representative sent from the Frank government. Find that person and have your subordinate guide them to us."
At the very least, the Frank representative would know far more about Baron Labierre than she did. Perhaps she could learn more about the perpetrator's motives. Filled with that hope, Elizabeth quickened her steps.
Mages had been deployed throughout the guard. Elizabeth had the mages conjure light breezes to sweep away the clouds of dust. She then had them raise a large number of light orbs to secure clearer visibility.
"Did you really intend to stand there without casting a single spell unless I gave you direct orders?!"
"I—I'm sorry!"
"Healing mages, tend to the critically wounded! Use potions on the lightly injured!"
Elizabeth searched for the Saint. As it happened, one of the wounded remembered the Saint's last known location. The Saint was right beneath the collapsed ceiling of the ballroom.
Elizabeth involuntarily covered her forehead with her palm. This was the worst-case scenario.
"Assist me!"
She wrapped Aura around both her hands and began clearing the building debris herself. The guards rushed in to help as well. The mages lifted the larger chunks of rubble and moved them carefully, while the soldiers worked delicately to avoid disrupting the precarious balance between the pieces of debris.
Bodies were found here and there throughout the wreckage. Some had their heads crushed, others had their abdomens crushed and burst open.
Every single one of them had their palms and arms blackened and charred to a crisp. In the moment the magical explosion had occurred, they had instinctively raised their arms to shield themselves. It was also proof that this spot had been the epicenter of the blast.
"It's the Saint!"
A guard shouted.
"The Saint is alive!"
"Truly?!"
The despair that had been coloring Elizabeth's mind suddenly brightened. She rushed over immediately. The guard was right. Through a gap between the marble slabs, a woman with crimson hair was visible.
"...Ugh...hnngh..."
The woman appeared to be unconscious, but her pained expression trembled ever so faintly. Her injuries were severe, but she was unmistakably still alive. Elizabeth and the soldiers hurriedly pulled her free from the rubble.
Her condition was horrifying. Her entire body was covered in dust. The Saint's vestments had apparently burned away in the explosion, leaving her appearance in tatters. Blood flowed ceaselessly from her abdomen and thighs. Perhaps it was sheer divine fortune that her head had been spared.
"Mages!"
Three healing mages quickly attended to the Saint.
"Sibertum."
"I'm sorry. We used it all earlier."
"Can't be helped. We'll substitute with Germasenea."
The mages worked urgently, exchanging terms that only they could understand. Elizabeth, while unfamiliar with combat magic, had even less knowledge of healing magic. She could do nothing but watch with anxious tension.
How much time had passed? It felt like more than an hour, and yet it also felt like only a single minute had gone by. The chief mage raised his head and looked up at Elizabeth.
"She'll be all right. The crisis has passed for now."
"Goddesses!"
Elizabeth hated religion, but in this moment, she was the most fervent believer on the continent.
"The wounds themselves aren't too serious. It seems the Saint's robes blocked most of the damage. Wearing the Saint's robes to the ball is what saved her life. The mana explosion would have done almost no harm."
The mage grimaced.
"There are significant lacerations on her abdomen and thigh."
"Lacerations?"
"The culprit likely stabbed her with a dagger first. It was probably an enchanted dagger meant for assassination. One stab to the abdomen, one to the thigh, and then they detonated their own mana. Devilishly skilled work."
Disgusted by the villain's vicious methods, the mage clicked his tongue.
"They never intended to kill her in a single blow. From the start, they were aiming for fatal blood loss. They collapsed the building to trap her inside… and in my estimation, the blade was likely coated in poison as well. It's too early to relax."
"When the Saint recovers, I shall personally grant you one hundred gold coins."
The mage's eyes lit up.
"I pledge my honor and my mana — I will do everything in my power."
The Saint was carried out to the garden on a stretcher. After all, there was no telling when another section of the ballroom ceiling might collapse.
Elizabeth stayed inside the ballroom with the guards until they found the last of the wounded. In the meantime, a portion of the ceiling caved in, nearly causing serious injury. The captain of the guard urged her to escape first, but Elizabeth shook her head firmly.
"It is a leader's duty to help all people. One who turns away from the disaster unfolding before their eyes cannot be called a leader."
The soldiers of Batavia were deeply moved by their Consul and threw themselves wholeheartedly into the rescue efforts.
With the recovery of one last body, all rescue operations were concluded. Of the nearly sixty attendees, twenty-seven had minor injuries, fourteen had serious injuries, and four had died.
The majority of the seriously wounded survived thanks to swift action. The Saint was among them. When Elizabeth was the last to leave the ballroom, the survivors rose to their feet and gave this great ruler a standing ovation.
Even in the face of an unexpected act of terror, Elizabeth had produced the most favorable outcome possible. This left a profound impression on the delegations of ten nations, and by saving the Saint, she had at least partially dismantled Dantalion's plan.
"Report the identities of the seriously wounded and the dead."
"Yes. I'll begin with the seriously wounded. Baron Heizenberg from the Teuton Kingdom, Viscount Hodell from the Kingdom of Castille…"
The knight glanced down at the paper he had written at some point and continued speaking.
Thirteen names were called before the final one was mentioned.
"…Court Count Dantalion of the Habsburg Empire."
Elizabeth's eyes widened despite herself.
"That concludes the list. There are fourteen seriously wounded in total."