The Way to End the War
Jerryway was firmly convinced that Sisilia, who lived without a care in the world, would never bother considering the complicated, tragic circumstances of the nobles—
But there was an unexpected ring of truth to Edward's words.
"A girl who hates killing wouldn't pick the most extreme option right from the start. Even if she knows it's the right call."
The root of the eastern troubles was a power struggle among the nobles. Far from the central government's influence, wars for regional dominance were frequent. That led to poor public safety, which drove up taxes, which tangled everything into a mess.
There was only one solution: carve out the rotten parts entirely and rebuild.
"Sisilia will go through trial and error. She'll try soothing them at first, then threats. But it won't work. She can't stay in the east forever."
The empress's official endorsement, something Sisilia had never once failed at. This would be her first bitter defeat.
As the failures piled up, her spirit would wear thin, and when the only option left was eliminating most of the nobles—
She'd break.
Massacring demons and massacring humans were leagues apart. Especially for the sweet-hearted Sword Princess, it could prove too much to bear.
"...After that, Sisilia will lose a ton of support. Heroes have to be just. Slaughtering everyone can't be justice."
And that wasn't all. The Windsor Knights intervening in a territorial war would blatantly violate a rule every noble knew, shrinking their political clout considerably.
"That's when I'll step in with a smile. Like breaking her legs and handing her crutches. The funny part? Even scheming something this ugly, he doesn't want her to hate him. Lena. You've been caught in schemes like this since birth and carried them out. What do I do here?"
Lena listened quietly, then brushed her hair behind her ear with a shy smile.
"Just confess."
"Out."
"Yes, sir."
"The lord kidnapped my wife."
"Ever heard rumors of people eating people? Happens around here now and then."
"Selling your body for bread— isn't that the goddess's blessing?"
"No pretty girls here. The lord snatches any that catch his eye."
On the road to Greyslam, it started with witnessing war crimes and unfolded into a living hell.
How could she not know war's pain? Sisilia knew it all too well, sickeningly so.
But she wasn't arrogant enough to think she had to save everyone.
Still, it was ridiculous. People enduring wars against humans lived more wretched lives than those fighting demons.
"What a Betty-level shitshow."
Sisilia let out a small sigh.
Personally, dark fantasy wasn't her taste. So she decided to wrap up the gloomy business quick.
"Wh-what is this outrage! Guards! Guards, where are you!"
Sisilia eyed the local lord hanging upside down.
Nobles being greedy was par for the course, but this one had gone overboard. His crimes and grudges reached the heavens—no cuteness could excuse that.
Even on the way here, she'd seen countless pleas for salvation from his victims. This was the same lord who'd tormented the good village chief of the Hero's Village.
"Pl-please, say something! What is this? What crime have I committed...!"
Sisilia said nothing, just stared as the lord dangled upside down. No matter his thrashing or pleas.
His noble teeth were already chattering.
"Fine! I'm sorry! Taking that kid was over the line, even for me! I'll—I'll lower taxes too!"
Then, urgent footsteps approached. Hope flickered in the noble's eyes as the door opened.
There stood Beatrice in a bloodstained dress, saluting. A wooden sword in her other hand.
"The rest have all been handled."
"Good work."
"Yep."
The noble's shock hit like a thunderbolt. Sisilia finally smiled brightly.
"Now then, shall we begin the interrogation?"
"Wh-who... no, who are you...?"
"I'm an adventurer."
'Sh-she's not right in the head.'
Hanging a man upside down and lying straight-faced without a hint of hesitation. The noble feared Sisilia's eyes. They weren't the eyes of one human gazing at another.
"Wh-what do you want to know, adventurer?"
An obvious lie even a child would see through. But she'd neutralized the lord's forces with just two people and reached him here. The noble lacked the guts to call her out.
"Tell me the war's scale, factions, and conflicts. I'll deem you friendly and let you live."
The noble hiccupped through the explanation. Lancaster and York factions, locked in a war of attrition called the War of the Roses. The problem: evenly matched, so no end in sight after thirty years.
"H-hey! You let me go now, right?!"
Business done, Sisilia left the nasty noble's home. Walking the streets, she sank into deep thought.
Clearly pondering how to resolve this mess. Beatrice gripped her dress hem tensely.
'...Don't touch this.'
She'd thought it was just some minor noble spat. But confirmed as a war for eastern hegemony, threats wouldn't end it.
Solving this meant deep involvement. The problem: Windsor Knights, imperial affiliates, had no justification meddling in noble affairs.
'Even Sisilia can't...'
Beatrice recalled what happened when Sisilia caused trouble.
—As adjutant, you just watched her screw up?
—You're fired.
"...!"
Beatrice paled. She should worry about herself, not Sisilia!
"S-Sisilia, why not leave this to the nobles?"
"Kinda like the demons, huh."
"Pardon?"
It paralleled the story of the absolute Demon King being weak, so his innocent Four Heavenly Kings kept causing chaos.
"Just like demons."
Sisilia blinked.
"Demons."
No wonder they never felt like proper humans...
"Demons mean kill 'em."
Beatrice stared in disbelief.
...How does her brain twist to that conclusion?
"Betty. Let's go demon hunting."
But Beatrice couldn't argue the logic.
'...Hiding as adventurers was for this.'
Windsors couldn't intervene in territorial wars. Beyond scoldings from the captain and empress, it was huge political baggage.
Sisilia's double layer: hide as adventurers—and if caught, claim "thought they were demons." Perfect pretext: nobles colluding with demons.
...Especially with the Four Heavenly Kings rampaging in the capital lately. Not a stretch.
Worst case, it'd pass as a minor blunder.
Beatrice shivered at Sisilia's thorough planning, plotted before the crisis even hit.
"As expected, Sisilia's the smartest kitty I've ever seen."
Cats are smarter than dogs. They just cause more trouble.
"?"
Sisilia tilted her head cutely, pawing her cheek with sparkling eyes.
"Nya."
"......"
Beatrice thought: Maybe she really has no thoughts.
How do you reconcile fighting friends? First, try talking it out to clear misunderstandings.
"Do you think you can handle this?"
Sisilia faced Lancaster Count and York Count, the war's root causes.
Perfect timing: war just about to ignite, so she'd snatched them cleanly from the frontlines.
Lancaster gritted his teeth, glaring at his fallen Sword Emperor guard Gorden, foaming at the mouth.
"Only Windsor Knights could pull this absurdity. This is noble business. Imperial knights have no right to interfere. I'll protest to His Majesty formally."
York Count was no different.
"...Heard rumors. Youngest vice-captain ever, a woman with radiant silver hair. You're that famed Sword Princess Sisilia, huh?"
Seated across a table, Sisilia spoke in a stern, grave tone.
"Not Sisilia."
"...Then who?"
"Adventurer."
She flashed her adventurer's badge proudly. Beatrice smacked her forehead audibly—it screamed guild promo.
"...It says Sisilia right here?"
York pointed out. Sisilia pivoted instantly.
"I came hoping you'd end the war here."
She glanced at each.
"Too many suffering. Your territorial war crossed the line."
"Crossed the line? Who decides that?"
Sisilia blinked.
"Me."
"......"
Lancaster lost words at her brazen cheer. York burst laughing at the arrogant foe's fluster.
"Hahaha! Windsor knights are fun. But."
Grasping her intent, both chilled.
"Young lady knight. One question: think this war ends if we vanish?"
"Wouldn't it?"
"Foolish. Wars never vanished from human history. New players rise, sparking fresh ones."
York nodded at Lancaster.
"We've warred thirty years, sure. But we kept lines, fought proper territorial wars. Why His Majesty never intervened."
War was brutal. But Lancaster and York fought with restraint. Or so they believed.
"No families touched, no innocents dragged in."
In other words—
"We're a necessary evil. Bet if another grabs hegemony, it'll be worse."
York figured this logic unbeatable. Add "We'll truce five years for Windsor's request," and the kid would compromise.
As he opened his mouth—
"Betty, ready?"
"Yep. Sturdy carriage, your unicorn, and my Liri hitched."
"Good. Tie these guys up."
"Gag too?"
"Yeah."
"Wh-what?!"
As Beatrice bound them without hesitation, Sisilia stretched outside the tent with a yawn.
While Sisilia kidnapped the nobles, Beatrice prepped the carriage and horses.
Hers was opulent, noble-grade—few would touch it. And if they did, as long as not virgins—
Unicorn would sort 'em. Knight horses weren't ordinary; Liri could handle bandits easy.
They'd haul the pair to Terezia safe. No coachman needed.
"...Who'd she take after to love women this much?"
Sisilia narrowed her eyes at the unicorn nuzzling Liri.
"Sisilia, done. Load 'em?"
Beatrice peeked in. Two nobles trussed tight inside.
"Yeah."
Loaded, Sisilia pulled two papers from her subspace, scribbled.
"What's...?"
Beatrice's eyes widened. Worst handwriting ever. Illegible.
"...What'd you write?"
Sisilia slapped the papers on the wriggling nobles' foreheads.
It read:
-Sisilia Sexual Harasser.
"Damn orcs kidnapped Lancaster Excellency! Rescue him!"
"Rotten trollsters threatening York Count! Charge, full army!"
The tense standoff erupted into total war.
Unlike typical nobles, both camps had standing orders: "If I'm gone, mobilize everything."
York's point to Sisilia: "War won't stop without us."
"If you know knight honor, come out!"
"Sword Emperor Liquir. I accept your duel challenge."
Before full war, per custom: single combat.
Both camps' strongest knights stood at distance, tension thick—
Schwick!
A chilling sound, and a girl appeared between. Silver hair, silver-blue eyes, blood-flecked dress.
"Fighting's bad."
Words not even a child would say to warmongers.
But.
"So why not join hands and head home?"
If that child's hands held both camps' top knights' heads.
No one could ignore her.