Plan
Plan
"That's quite the malicious combination."
"Do you truly think so?"
Esmue asked back without losing the smile in her voice, but Ragnis's answer was already decided.
"Still, in the current situation, that's probably the best option."
Incompetent schemers they might be, but at least they wouldn't strike from behind.
Conversely, it meant the Empire viewed the envoys from every other kingdom as potential threats.
"Do you see that woman with the fierce gaze? She tried to hide her distinctive features one way or another, but that is Sebella, the Singing Spear of the Maritime Kingdom of Bolta Bay. I'm not sure if the others are known figures... but seeing how they're building their operation around her without the slightest hesitation, I suspect the Empire has been rather deeply resented for some time now."
Ragnis had spent the past year and more frantically cramming the affairs of Itisel into her head, so she had no idea who Sebella was. From Esmue's tone alone, she could only guess that Sebella wasn't exactly welcome. Despite that tone, though, Esmue herself was smiling.
But Eselua's reaction far exceeded her expectations.
"Siren Sebella? She's a criminal!"
"Lower your voice, Eselua. This is not a matter to raise your voice over."
They'd put forward a criminal as an envoy's attendant and that wasn't a matter to raise your voice over? Ragnis wasn't the only one struggling to grasp this; Eselua and the Hero's other lovers wore expressions no different.
But Esmue maintained an utterly unmoved attitude, responding one by one to those offering her courtesies from beyond the spectator stands while continuing her explanation in a low voice.
"There are indications that she plundered foreign vessels, but no evidence. As long as Bolta Bay maintains her innocence, we cannot lodge a complaint."
"Are there really that many women in Bolta Bay who empower themselves through song while wielding spears?"
"With no witnesses, what else can be done."
Esmue turned her head toward Eselua with a movement that, seen from afar, could only be taken for a perfectly natural conversation, and continued speaking with a smile.
"I am rather looking forward to learning the truth of that today."
"...If the price is the Hero's life, I think it's far too steep."
"Foolish. The Hero is not an honorary post. And this time, even if it's a sparring match, the one who defeated the Hero is also present."
That smile, from one angle, was ordinary—but from another, it looked almost mischievous.
"Aren't you curious how accurate the information that reached them actually was?"
"...You've laid the groundwork, haven't you?"
"I prepare the groundwork for most things. Except when dealing with those who are exceedingly stupid, or those who defy common sense."
Esmue leisurely settled onto the sofa and popped a grape into her mouth as if that settled the matter, ending the conversation.
Ragnis felt dissatisfied with that attitude, but for this once at least, she decided to be thankful that Esmue had taken a liking to Eldmia.
Because she wouldn't do anything to push Eldmia into a death trap.
◈
The Singing Spear of Bolta Bay, Sebella.
An epithet bestowed by the people of Bolta Bay, praising the martial deeds of one who possessed both the talent of a bard and the talent of the spear. But she preferred the epithet her enemies had given her far more.
The Siren—a monster that lured boatmen to their deaths with song.
Being regarded as an existence that lethal, that terrifying, felt far more fitting for one who had mastered the martial arts, and it resonated with her much more deeply.
"Do they genuinely believe the war situation can be turned around by a single Hero?"
"Hmph. They're nothing more than another race with little worth mentioning. The name Demonfolk has simply gone to their heads. Even Itisel has held out against them for years. How could such a race threaten humanity?"
"The ignorant and unenlightened are always like that. I've heard it said that when a lie grows too vast in scale, people end up believing it instead."
"It's lamentable. If the world ran so conveniently, how could the Empire have remained the Empire?"
"Indeed it is so."
Those well-acquainted with her epithet raised not a single objection to placing her in command. Even though among them was an attendant from the neighboring kingdom of Pazsn, which waged a tacit war of nerves with Bolta Bay.
That was how certain her ability was. The fact that she had assumed command of one of the Bolta Bay Sea Dragon Knight orders at the young age of twenty was no empty title. These people, too, were each accomplished in their own nations, but they could not match Sebella's renown.
"Of all those who came to the Empire representing their nations, for only people with such sound judgment to gather in one place—surely that is the will of God."
For years after the Hero was proclaimed to the world by the Imperial Divine Council, their kingdoms had invested more effort in gathering intelligence than in supporting Itisel. As a result, developments on Itisel's front lines reached their royal courts almost in real time, and though they did not know every detail, they had all reached the same conclusion.
the Demonfolk is not a threat.
Magic could occasionally cause catastrophic losses, but the threat was still something adventurers could handle.
The shared opinion was that otherwise, there was no way Itisel could have held the front for a span approaching seven years.
"I hear they've directly invited the Margrave of Itisel this time. Four days earlier than us, no less. Isn't it obvious what they're trying to do?"
"The previous margrave fell in battle, and his young daughter succeeded him, they say... It's nothing more than putting on a friendly face to justify an Empire that even after her father's death seems only to stall for time."
Sebella didn't particularly oppose their opinions, but she had no intention of joining in their idle chatter either. What she needed to concern herself with was her homeland's interests, and what she had to do for that was not chitchat but the consolidation of plans.
But she had heard one troublesome rumor the moment she arrived, so she had no choice but to mention at least that.
"Come to think of it, there's a rumor spreading that the Margrave's attendant defeated the Hero."
"I heard it as well... but no matter how I think about it, isn't it nothing more than puffery? This is an event ostensibly arranged to boast about the Hero, yet the Hero was defeated? It's a farce, truly."
"Conversely, isn't the intention obvious—going so far as to spread such absurd rumors just to boost Itisel's image?"
It was a rumor no one could have avoided hearing upon arrival. But precisely because of that, they did not believe it. The very idea that 'that' Empire would welcome them while openly flaunting such a disgrace was itself preposterous.
It was false information not even worth pondering.
"It seems they've been rather eager to use the Demonfolk as a pretext to keep the neighboring kingdoms down. Or... I hear the power struggle between the First Princess and the Second Imperial Prince is fiercer than expected. That might be connected."
The one who spoke up was the attendant from the Kingdom of Pazsn.
As his gaze moved toward Esmue and Ragnis, seated in the section designated as the VIP box, everyone's eyes naturally followed.
To them, every woman there was strikingly beautiful, and they even seemed so close that they never stopped laughing together. What that sight implied seemed obvious.
"It seems the First Princess's ambition outstrips her intellect."
"Ahem. That's rather too blatant. Surely that's not something to say at a venue like this."
"Ah, my apologies..."
Through the Hero, they'd emphasize the Empire's importance, and through the Margrave—who was clearly responsible for Itisel's Demonfolk front—they'd maintain friendly relations with the royal house, split the profits if the war with the Demonfolk escalated in earnest, and suppress the other nations. That had to be the intention.
It wasn't a particularly wrongheaded notion, but she was still so young that the scheme was far too transparent, they thought.
"In any case... it is a bit laughable to hold an event like this against snot-nosed children."
"They themselves claim to be that confident. Shouldn't we oblige them?"
There was no one among them close in age to the students. The youngest was Sebella, in her mid-twenties, and the eldest approached thirty. Though none had experienced a full-scale war between nations, they had fought territorial wars and weathered honor duels to the point of being utterly sick of them.
And they were sending students against them? The idea was so absurd that it left them more deflated than angry.
But if the Empire said it was fine, they had no reason to refuse. They had been handed a legitimate chance to achieve their objective with ease, so they fully intended to show off what they could do.
"Besides, what need is there for a plan when it's just surveying some dungeon that mere adventurers enter to earn coin? We've already confirmed our objectives align, so we need only focus on meeting the Hero."
Stripping away the Hero's false halo.
That one thing was their sole common purpose.
"Still, don't they say even a lion does its utmost when hunting a rabbit? Let us show conduct befitting lions and display our nations' might at this opportunity."
With Sebella's words as the finale, they grinned darkly. And they agreed to conceal the one and only way the students could possibly defeat them.
Even after that action was concluded, they smiled with utter confidence.
Without ever imagining that this would be the last time they felt so confident that day.