"You worked hard yesterday. Saint Longwy."
"Please don't call me so familiarly."
The crimson-curled-haired saint, Jacqueline Longwy, shot back with a sharp retort, though she was inwardly anxious.
The saint had been dispatched from Bretagne to the imperial capital as of yesterday. She had even given a speech in the city square—a lofty appeal for the peace of the continent. The reception had been quite enthusiastic. And yet, the reason Longwy's heart was uneasy was Dantalion, seated in the chair across from her.
Dantalion spoke.
"The reaction was passionate, was it not? That means the people desire peace just as much, and that the continent's situation is just as dire. You essentially delivered a speech on behalf of the people's will, so you have every right to feel proud."
"You're the very one who made the continent this wretched, and yet you have the nerve to…"
She almost let the accusation slip from her lips before shutting her mouth. Dantalion was grinning right in front of her.
The more she criticized the other party, the more she dragged down her own value as his collaborator. It was the very definition of shooting yourself in the foot. That was probably why Dantalion was smiling. Longwy felt as though a leech were crawling up her arm.
"Hah. I'll be going now."
She rose from her seat. She had come to Dantalion's residence under the pretense of consulting with him about the future of humanity and the demon race. But she didn't want to stay here a single second longer.
"Wait a moment, Saint Longwy. It would be problematic if you left so soon."
"Am I not even allowed the right to leave this place?"
"That's not what I mean."
Dantalion let out an awkward, rueful smile.
"You came here to consult with me. At least, that is what everyone believes. Now imagine—under those circumstances, you walk into my residence and then leave within ten minutes. What kind of gossip do you think would spread?"
"……."
"That the consultation didn't go well. That it was an unpleasant meeting. That is the rumor that would circulate. Even if the seating is uncomfortable, I would appreciate it if you could endure it for at least two hours."
Was he telling the truth? Saint Longwy scrutinized Dantalion's expression carefully. He didn't look like he was lying.
Saint Longwy was displeased, but she sat back down in her chair. Then she turned her gaze away from Dantalion at a sharp angle.
"Would you care for some tea? There is also wine."
"……."
"This is rather vexing."
Dantalion let out a soft sigh.
"I don't mind that you dislike me. If anything, I appreciate the honesty. But setting personal feelings aside, we are collaborators who must work together going forward. If neither of us has any willingness to even speak with each other, cooperation — or anything else — is out of the question."
Dantalion produced a pipe tobacco pouch as he spoke. His voice carried a faint condescension, as though he were dealing with a child. Saint Longwy bristled and retorted.
"I'm asking you not to speak to me as though we're on friendly terms. We don't need to be close in order to exchange business-related matters."
"But that is profoundly inefficient."
Dantalion drew deeply on the tobacco, exhaling slowly.
"If a relationship can't even manage a simple pleasantry, I have to wonder how well any business will go. If nothing goes wrong, that would be the real surprise. Is this, perhaps, how the people of Bretagne conduct their relationships?"
"……."
"Saint Jacqueline Longwy. I am sitting here as a Court Count representing the Habsburg Empire. So are you. Toss your personal feelings into the dog's bowl where they belong."
Saint Longwy glared at Dantalion fiercely.
"You executed every last one of the soldiers under my command! You showed no mercy even to those who surrendered!"
"So you're saying I'm the one who drove those soldiers to their deaths? How amusing."
Dantalion gave a thin smile.
"Very well, Saint Longwy. It is true that I let your soldiers die. But you are an accomplice as well."
Saint Longwy's glare sharpened further, but Dantalion was unmoved.
"The garrison defending Parisiorum was clearly made up of veterans and untrained conscripts. Even if they had been left to hold out in a siege, they wouldn't have lasted long. Why did the Bretagne army leave nothing but subpar, low-quality troops at Parisiorum?"
"That was..."
"Obviously, it was a sacrifice."
Without allowing a chance to respond, Dantalion declared flatly.
"A meat shield consumed to buy time for the queen's escape. Nothing more, nothing less. Don't you dare feign ignorance, Jacqueline Longwy. Those soldiers were thrown to their deaths by the queen's order. And you agreed to that order..."
"..."
"You and the queen jointly signed a document that condemned four thousand Bretagne soldiers to death. Am I wrong?"
Longwy could not answer.
A mocking laughter settled low in the reception room of the manor.
"You sacrificed your own allies as pawns and then shifted the blame onto someone else. You've got some nerve. I almost envy you. To think that someone like you is a Saint — perhaps some paperwork was filed in error."
"You... you demon lord, you—!"
The Saint's shoulders trembled with rage.
Dantalion's lips curled upward.
"If this had been our empire, you never would have become a Saint. You're the kind of woman who belongs in a brothel, let alone a temple."
*Crack.* The sound rang out sharp and clear. The Saint, unable to hold back any longer, had slapped Dantalion across the right cheek. Moisture glistened at the corners of her eyes. Her expression was twisted with fury.
"I know that I'm trash — I know that better than anyone! But you have no right to mock me — you of all people!"
"..."
"No one in this world is so wicked that they deserve to be ridiculed by someone like you!"
Dantalion regarded the Saint in silence. After a moment, he nodded slowly and deliberately.
"You're right. That's a fair point."
The acknowledgment was far too clean. It was the complete absence of hesitation that left the Saint at a loss. Not knowing what expression to wear, she could only furrow her brows — and Dantalion asked her, in a measured voice utterly devoid of any emotion.
"I ask purely out of curiosity, but if that is the case, then you have no right to dismiss or mock me either, do you?"
"……."
"Well. Humans are complicated creatures, after all. Emotions are chaotic and subtle — there are always parts that reason alone cannot fully govern."
Dantalion shrugged.
"Shall we change the subject to business? In one month, an event will be held in Batavia. There is something you and I must do there."
"Are you... not bothered at all?"
Saint Longwy could not hold back the question any longer.
"How can you remain so composed when you know that everything you've done is wrong..."
"Saint Jacqueline Longwy."
Dantalion smiled.
"Refrain from personal questions. That is not territory you are entitled to enter."
The winter diplomatic war ended in a decisive victory for the Empire.
While the Saints were fractured and shouting their respective positions at one another, I moved swiftly and drew the ten nations to my side.
As a result, out of the twelve nations on the continent, eight backed the Habsburg Empire and four supported the Habsburg Republic. It could be called an overwhelming triumph.
The short but powerful diplomatic war concluded within a month, and almost immediately afterward, a republican representative assembly was convened in Batavia. With a considerably lighter heart, I set out for Amsterdam, the capital of Batavia.
The Republic's Consul residence.
Here, there was a garden hidden from the eyes of ordinary humans. When I turned my steps toward it, sure enough, Paimon was seated in a white chair. He must have sensed my approach. Even so, Paimon did not turn his head.
"Paimon. It is not too late. This is your last chance."
Paimon did not answer.
"The Habsburg Empire has established friendly relations with all ten nations. Even if you cry out for republicanism now, the ten nations will not unconditionally hostile toward the demonfolk — they will seek cooperation with the Empire. Even if you were to rise up now, the Plains Faction's empire would not be isolated."
"……."
There was no answer again. So that was it. Her decision was already made firm… .
I closed both eyes tightly for a moment, then opened them.
"I am attending the conference as the representative of the Empire. I have no intention of standing by and watching the Plains Faction and the Mountain Faction fight it out. Let me warn you in advance, Paimon. Do not expect things to go the way you want them to."
That should be the end of it.
Just as I turned to leave the inner garden, Paimon spoke.
"Dantalion. The Habsburg Republic will also be participating in the conference."
"……And so what? What do you think those brat envoys from the Republic could possibly do to me?"
"Perhaps they could, if we're talking about the person you've always called a genius."
My footsteps stopped.
"No way… ?"
"Elisabeth von Habsburg. She has notified us that she will be participating in the conference as the representative of the Republic. Even if only for two days."
My body went rigid.
"That's absurd. Why would the sovereign of an entire nation… Paimon, did you inform the Consul about the meaning of this conference!"
"……I didn't tell anyone. Except for you."
I immediately opened the Status Window and checked Paimon's psychological state. I was certain. She hadn't lied.
Could Elisabeth have uncovered the inner workings of the conference on her own? Impossible! That was out of the question. The Plains Faction wasn't taking this conference all that seriously either. The prevailing attitude was, 'Hold it if you want.' There was no one who would leak the secret to Elisabeth… .
Had she somehow perceived the signs of internal strife on our side? No way. The internal strife hadn't surfaced yet. It hadn't even occurred. Under the fine facade of the Habsburg Empire, everyone was getting along harmoniously… .
……So that was it. It wasn't the Habsburg Empire that was the problem — it was the Batavia Republic.
The Batavia Republic had ultimately sided with the Empire, but their timing had been ever so slightly late. Right before that, I had used the Saint of Bretagne rather than the Saint of Batavia. Had she detected the signs of division from that?
Goosebumps rose across my skin. There had been just a single misstep — one tiny misstep, nothing more.
It was a misstep so insignificant that no one else in the world would have noticed. But Elisabeth had seen through it. No — she was the kind of person who could see through it……
But there was no time to hesitate. If anything, this worked in my favor. She was a terrifying, fearsome figure, yet it wasn't as though I had no countermeasures at all.
"I understand. Please stay well."
I bid my farewells to Paimon and left the Governor's residence.
This city would be under thorough protection now. With a head of state in attendance, security would be tighter than ever.
Elisabeth had come of her own volition, and a part of me wanted to seize the opportunity and assassinate her. Unfortunately, Batavia was not being particularly cooperative with me at the moment. Assassination had to be considered off the table for now. That meant I had no choice but to explore other options……
Elisabeth von Habsburg. Without a doubt, she and I would meet face to face.
This would be nothing like the speech battle on the Bruno Plains. Back then, we had known of Elisabeth, but Elisabeth had not known us. Now we had each other fully figured out. It would be far from easy……