The Karelia Army, stationed in Tepello Castle, southern territory.
Lunarian Iniang, ruler of Zeilant, wore an expression heavy with worry.
“So… they’re dead?”
“Yes.”
Thirty soldiers had been publicly executed for violating military law.
Luna’s objections—that execution was too extre—had been ignored.
Of course, violating military law was a cri.
But no matter how she thought about it, the punishnt was far too harsh.
Taking a life over a single minor mistake… was simply too cruel.
Especially considering that new recruits were being conscripted indiscriminately—so long as they had limbs and could move, they were being drafted.
Morale was bound to be low, and training quality wasn’t exactly stellar.
But all of this…
Was the will of Makana Karelia—
No, Luna knew by now that it wasn’t really her will at all.
This was Vanessa’s doing.
Ever since the strategist Vanessa Trinity had consolidated full control over Karelia’s military affairs, military law had beco harsher, and training more brutal.
A strong army—a good goal.
Emphasizing the strictness of military law during warti was sothing even Luna had thought necessary.
But executing soldiers for being thirty minutes late?
Most of the others who had died that day hadn’t committed any cris severe enough to warrant death.
Even a public flogging would have been extre, let alone execution.
It was nothing short of terror rule.
Vanessa, using Karelia’s na as her shield, was running the army through fear.
And despite the murmurs spreading among the ranks, “It’s necessary for the war effort” was the excuse that always buried the issue.
The southern continent had enjoyed a long, precarious balance—full-scale war had been avoided for years.
So Vanessa had an easy justification.
The soldiers and commanders had grown too lax. Morale was low. Training had to be stricter.
“Lord of the Castle.”
“…Speak.”
“The Supre Commander does not hold you in high regard. She believes a castle lord should not waste ti on unnecessary sentintality.”
The officer’s words carried a weight that Luna could not ignore.
“The Supre Commander… you an Karelia?”
“……Her will is practically the sa as that of the Supre Commander.”
The man knew as well as Luna did—this was not Karelia’s will. It was Vanessa’s.
But there was no other way to say it.
Vanessa stood with Karelia’s full, unwavering support.
“I understand.”
“Then, I shall take my leave.”
The officer departed from the audience chamber.
Luna, having concluded her duties for the day, turned toward the estate where she was staying.
"You have returned, Lady Luna."
Waiting at the entrance was Charlotte, the golden-eyed girl and Cain’s relative.
As Luna entered the estate, she did her best to maintain a bright expression.
There was no need to burden Charlotte with her concerns.
“How was your day?”
“I feel like I’m improving with the sword. I’m still nowhere near my brother’s level, though.”
Cain had entrusted Luna with raising three children—
Francis, Charlotte, and Violet.
And just as Cain had predicted, they were proving to be invaluable talents.
Francis, the spear-wielding prodigy.
Charlotte, the swordfighter.
And Violet, whose strategic insight was already shining through.
Francis was already being called the second coming of Crelmton al Kasky—a legendary spearman from the old empire.
He had already surpassed the level of ordinary soldiers.
He was strong enough to spar with Karelia’s generals and hold his own—even at his young age.
Charlotte, too, was no ordinary talent.
Her teacher, Tifa, had praised her endlessly—saying she would one day surpass even herself.
And given Tifa’s straightforward nature, Luna knew that was no empty complint.
If her elder siblings had mastered combat, then the youngest, Violet, was proving herself in tactics and strategy.
Her predictions were already bearing fruit—
"Serpina’s army will no longer attack Brans’ forces."
That had been her call.
And indeed—no battles had occurred between them since.
Her reasoning?
Rather than conquering new territory, it was far more effective for Serpina to simply leave the battlefield as is.
By forcing Brans to remain alert, she denied them the chance to focus on any other front.
It was a brutal yet strategic choice.
“You ntioned sothing last ti. Have you given it more thought?”
“Yes, and we all reached the sa decision.”
Charlotte lowered her head slightly.
“We don’t need to enroll in the academy.”
Luna had wanted to send them to an academy.
She believed they would gain more from studying with peers than from simply remaining in her household as retainers.
“Why? You are all exceptional, but the world is vast. The experiences you would gain would surely be valuable. You don’t need to worry about tuition.”
“Of course, we understand that… but our uncle said otherwise.”
“…Your uncle?”
Cain.
“He told us to stay by your side, Lady Luna. To be here when the mont of opportunity cos. To be of use to you.”
Luna let out a soft, slightly awkward chuckle.
“I appreciate that, but still—”
“There is no need to worry, Lady Luna.”
Charlotte’s voice was firm.
“Tifa is already an excellent teacher to us. And Violet believes that staying by your side—observing and learning firsthand—will teach her far more than any academy ever could.
Please, respect our decision.”
“…If that is truly your will, I will not force you. But if you ever change your minds, let know. I can afford to send all three of you.”
“Thank you for your consideration.”
With that weighty conversation finished, Luna decided to change the topic to sothing lighter.
“That aside, you’re dressed quite nicely today.”
“Ah, that’s…”
Charlotte blushed slightly, looking like the young girl she was.
“There’s a festival happening in the square today.”
“Oh, right.”
Luna had heard sothing about that.
A grander festival had been arranged—to soothe tensions caused by the excessive conscriptions.
“So… if it’s alright, I was hoping to go—”
“There’s no need to ask permission. Go and enjoy yourself.”
“Oh…! T-Thank you.”
Charlotte, usually so mature, looked like the young girl she truly was in monts like these.
After seeing her off—
Luna fell deep into thought.
A festival.
It reminded her of sothing…
In Zeilant Castle, they had once held a Harvest Festival.
The first true harvest after a devastating storm.
This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.
For the first ti in a long while, the people had smiled.
And in that mont—
She had danced.
With Swen.
Even after all this ti, she had never once forgotten that mont.
The golden fields of wheat, swaying in the wind.
The crisp air, the scent of the festival, the food the villagers had offered her.
And Swen’s hand—holding hers, leading her in dance.
“…Swen.”
Was he still with the Brans Army?
Ever since Serpina had begun overwhelming them, she had been constantly worried.
But she had to believe in him.
He had promised to return.
There was no use wasting ti worrying.
When the opportunity ca—
She had to seize it.
So that she could stand proudly before him once more.
"Please… stay safe. Survive."
And as she thought that—
One question lingered in her mind.
What is Swen doing right now?
***
Knock, knock, knock.
“You may enter. There’s no need to knock.”
At my words, the door opened—
And in stepped the golden-haired absolute ruler.
Her distinctive hairpin, her shimring golden locks—
A woman who could never be mistaken for a re tyrant.
If anything, she was closer to the embodint of a goddess.
“You seem quite at ease, Swen.”
“Well, Lady Serpina has been unexpectedly accommodating.”
“Unexpectedly, is it?”
Serpina let out a quiet chuckle.
Even that small laugh was so breathtakingly beautiful it felt almost unfair.
That day—
The day the envoy arrived with the ssage:
"Hand over Swen in exchange for Anima’s release."
From that mont on, Airen, Reika, and I had been held in a private annex arranged by Serpina.
‘Imprisoned’ wasn’t quite the right word.
The place was comfortable enough.
Private baths, well-maintained facilities, regular als—all provided without fail.
There was even a window letting in sunlight, and the bed was as soft as any noble’s chamber.
It was far better than being thrown into a dungeon.
The only real downside was that I had no idea how Reika or Airen were faring.
“So, what brings you here today?”
“I thought I’d grant your request… and share so interesting news.”
A request.
Right. I had asked her for sothing.
“Airen Juliet and Reika Nighhardt are doing well. They’ve been asking about you.”
“What did you tell them?”
“I told them they were so grief-stricken that they had stopped eating entirely and were on the verge of starving.”
Her lips curled into a smug crescent.
This woman—she actually made jokes?
Not that I particularly cared about her sense of humor.
I had been more worried about whether she might have done sothing to them.
Fortunately, that concern seed unwarranted.
“…If they’re safe, that’s enough.”
“But since I’ve granted your request, I expect you to answer my question.”
“If it’s sothing I can answer, I will.”
“Reika Nighhardt.”
Her tone sharpened.
“I didn’t expect Jinor to have such a young daughter.”
So, the Nighhardt na really was famous.
There was a significant age gap, though.
Being adopted as a foster daughter explained that.
But Serpina hadn't co here just to bring up that.
“Is she… a mage?”
Her sudden, pinpointed question nearly caught off guard.
I barely managed to compose myself—
Or so I thought.
“You do get flustered, don’t you?”
“……”
I hadn’t changed my expression.
And yet, she had noticed.
“How did you—”
“It’s nothing difficult.”
She smirked.
“Not long ago, Hisphil Castle’s walls collapsed from an unexplained explosion.
I heard reports of a pink-haired woman being spotted nearby.
I assu that was your doing?”
“You jest. Mages? Where in the world would you find such a thing?”
“Coming from a man nicknad the White-haired Magician, that’s quite amusing.”
She laughed again—
A sound both bewitching and utterly feminine.
“And if she is a mage, then her na makes perfect sense.
Jinor must have noticed her talent and taken her in as his foster daughter.
It’s a predictable story—boring, even.”
I had to admit—
I was impressed.
Because she was absolutely right.
Serpina was truly a brilliant woman.
Now I understood why, in over half of the ga’s scenarios, she successfully unified the continent.
Even in a world where mages had yet to fully reveal themselves, she was able to adapt her thinking with remarkable flexibility.
And yet—
The thing that unsettled the most was not her intelligence—
But her charm.
Sothing told that fact would annoy her if she knew.
“…So, that’s your answer.”
“Yes.”
“It’s not exactly satisfying—
But I suppose that doesn’t matter.
After all, we now have plenty of ti to discuss things more deeply.”
What?
I blinked, startled.
And at that mont—
She leaned in.
Too close.
Her face hovered just inches from mine—
And a potent fragrance assaulted my senses.
A bold, intoxicating perfu.
“You’ve lost, Swen.
This match is my victory.”
“…!”
The outco of our wager—
“Baranga Yuri Aishus has abandoned you.
You know what that ans, don’t you?”
Her words were a poisoned whisper in my ear.
Her radiant smile—
So dazzlingly beautiful—
Carried venom.
It was the kind of smile a bride might wear on her wedding day—
A vow of eternal togetherness.
And then—
“Now, you are mine.”
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