Why So Serious?
"What do you think?"
"...It's flawless."
The office of the Duke of Yellow Embers.
After a brief banquet in the audience chamber, Sword God had been summoned alone and handed the full scope of the plan.
A single sheet of parchment that unfolded like an e-book into dozens of pages of detailed strategy.
Sword God read every last line with meticulous care, then set the final page down on the table with a low whistle of admiration.
Perfect.
A conquest plan that leveraged the Empire's overwhelming military might and Deoen's siege warfare system.
It understood the game's mechanics so thoroughly that you'd believe it was drawn up by a player rather than an NPC.
For each castle marked for capture, the enemy's strength had been assessed, forces allocated with ruthless efficiency, and even the post-conquest arrangements laid out in exhaustive detail.
Barring any unforeseen variables, ninety percent of the continent would fall into the Empire's hands after this siege. Of that, there was no doubt.
"It's perfect. Especially these detailed dossiers on every single member of even the minor guilds... how did you obtain this?"
He wasn't asking about their strength, their gear, or their weapons.
The parchment listed each player's rank and stats.
Information NPCs could never acquire.
No—information they couldn't even have conceived of wanting.
The Duke of Yellow Embers smiled.
"It wasn't difficult. There are humans in this world who will sell you the most arcane secrets for a handful of gold."
"And the need for such intelligence?"
"Karia thought of it. She said we would find it useful."
Well, I don't find it particularly useful, Sword God thought, but he reviewed the information once more anyway.
With this, they could operate far more efficiently.
If they'd had to estimate the enemy's strength at five to ten and commit fifteen or more to be safe—well, now that they knew it was exactly seven, committing ten would suffice.
The remaining five could be pooled with other forces to strike elsewhere.
"You will proceed as planned to Rettel Castle in the north. Karia and Tu-hyeol-gong will be there to receive you."
After all, this war wouldn't be fought with Imperial troops alone—six of the Eight Swords themselves were joining the campaign.
Even charging in without a plan, their odds of victory exceeded ninety percent.
"One thing."
"?"
The sole variable this plan had failed to account for.
"What is your plan for Lily Elbrit?"
A powerhouse capable of casually overwhelming the Eight Swords, save for the Three Dukes who formed the Empire's very foundation.
If Lily joined the war as an enemy of the Empire, this plan would fall apart at the seams—seventy percent of it, at minimum.
"Lily Elbrit... She is indeed a threat. Even the Saintess could not defeat her, and was forced into retreat."
"If she appears, I will move to her front."
"Is that for the sake of the Empire, or for personal ambition?"
"Personal ambition."
He was saying, plainly, that he would ignore the plan and act as he pleased.
Arrogant words for a man of the Imperial bloodline to speak before a Grand Duke of the Empire—yet Sword God answered without a flicker of hesitation.
And the Duke of Yellow Embers accepted it without a trace of displeasure.
"That's like you."
"I joined the Empire's side on the promise that I could do so. If that promise means nothing, I have no reason to be here."
"Have you met Leo?"
Leo.
The Rank 2 spirit mage, the player perpetually held up as his rival.
And disciple of the Spirit Deity Duke, Arne Parthia.
"I have not."
"Why not?"
"If I side with one of the two, my choices become constrained, do they not?"
If he stood with the Spirit Deity Duke, he would be unable to fight Lily should she later align with that faction.
And the reverse held equally true.
That the Spirit Deity Duke and the Magic Extremity Duke were at odds was common knowledge among anyone deeply involved with the Empire—but no one knew it better than the Duke of Yellow Embers.
Hwangyeolgong. Loberian Chen Imperium.
The strongest of the Eight Swords, present since the very concept was born—a old friend of both Arne and Karia.
He gave a bitter smile.
"A sound judgment."
"You won't stop them?"
"Me? By what means?"
Creeeak.
The Duke of Yellow Embers rose from his golden chair.
His gaze turned to the tall glass window, and the Imperial capital spread out beneath it at a glance.
"There is no going back between those two. Karia betrayed her friend, and Arne could not understand the friend who betrayed her."
Pfft.
"I cannot stop them. Their power alone would make it difficult—but more than that, I understand them both too well."
Pillars of the Empire with egos as immense as their achievements.
The Eight Swords, who had forged today's Empire through countless deeds, were the Empire itself in all but name.
All the Duke of Yellow Embers could do with these people—who refused to blend together—was gather them in one place and plant a single shared goal: a mighty Empire.
Suppressing them was never an option.
"The Empire must endure as the Empire. Their disputes must end as mere friction, nothing more."
Because the Empire must always be one strong, unified whole.
"...Now I understand why you summoned me."
"Sword God."
THUD.
"Go. Stop the Empire's 'enemy.' Whether you persuade them or kill them is irrelevant. Even if it ends in—"
—facing the worst possible enemy: Lily Elbrit herself.
"Yes, sir."
Sword God gathered something from the table and left the office.
"......"
Creeeak.
Alone now, the Duke of Yellow Embers sank back into his chair.
Then he picked up the parchment Sword God had left behind.
The single greatest variable in this entire plan.
"Lily Elbrit..."
If it truly came to the point of no return—
"Then I suppose I'll have to make my own move."
Golden divine radiance erupted fiercely from his body.
"...Whew."
Back in reality, I lay on my bed and stared at the ceiling for a while.
The reason Naphras had spoken up was the spirit experiments.
For her, it was a subject she could never simply overlook.
And the shamelessness of experimenting on her own contractor's spirits—that, she would never forgive.
Is she out of her mind?
Your own friend is a spirit mage, and you run experiments on spirits?
On spirits that friend personally contracted with?
A wave of dizziness washed over me.
I had seen truly despicable humans, races, and monsters beyond counting in the past—but the Magic Extremity Duke would not yield an inch even against the worst of them.
She'd probably make the top ten percent of the trash rankings.
"What should I do?"
Truthfully, Caria Machelfield already met every criterion for 'execution.'
In the old days, she'd have been killed on sight—or sealed away and carried inside a weapon.
After I gave up being the Saintess, received his teachings, and began wandering the world, I operated by a single standard.
The standard was simple.
If they deserved death, kill them.
If they didn't, rough them up a bit and let them live.
Ancient monsters that slaughtered thousands, tens of thousands of people every time they surfaced excepted, I generally spared most of them—but anyone who crossed that line died. All of them.
The Magic Extremity Duke... qualifies. More than qualifies.
She had crossed the line long ago.
Setting aside the betrayal of Arne and everything else, the mere fact that she experimented on spirits already made her an execution target.
Not that I'm saying she must be punished simply because she's evil.
I was never an executioner to begin with, nor righteous enough to pride myself on punishing the wicked.
Every life I saved or took, I did for my own satisfaction—nothing more.
Setting a standard was simply how I kept my own judgments sharp.
"Sword God... Magic Extremity Duke..."
Going after the Magic Extremity Duke inevitably meant running into Sword God.
I'd been wanting to meet him anyway, so that was no real problem.
The issue was having to fight a war...
"...Hmmm."
That really was—
Ding!
"?"
A Deoen message.
A familiar nickname, one I hadn't seen in a while.
Raguel.
The Angel Guild.
True to its name, it was a group that used the mythological names of the Seven Archangels, and it held the official Deoen guild ranking at number one.
All seven Archangels were powerful enough to sit within the top 100 players.
Not only that—the head of the Angel Guild, Michael, was ranked third in the world.
The player standing behind Sword God and Leo, he also owned Light's Grace, the strongest guild buff in all of Deoen.
And this man of such tremendous ability was...
"Raguel."
"Yes?"
"Can't you do it just this once?"
"No."
"Come on, just once."
"No! I already told you, no!"
How, you ask?
"How am I supposed to get Lily to come over?!"
...They were trying to persuade Raguel.
Ever since Raguel returned from the Mock Siege Battle,
the perpetually playful Seven Archangels had welcomed her back warmly—and Raguel felt a strange flicker of unease.
Before she'd left for the event, they'd made her a request that wasn't quite a request.
'Bring Lily to us. Charm her over, if you have to.'
Not "charm" in the literal sense—though there was Uriel insisting that wouldn't be a dealbreaker either.
Anyway, the opinions about somehow bringing Lily into the Angel Guild had poured out without end.
From Raguel's perspective, it was absurd.
'What friendship, exactly?'
Raguel wasn't on Lily's team, nor did they have any personal connection.
The only thread between them was that Raphael—who had dumped ten million won into Lily's stream—was in the same guild.
Calling that a friendship was laughable, but the Seven Archangels wanted to use this occasion to build at least some rapport with Lily.
...Not that they'd built none at all, to be fair.
After the Mock Siege Battle ended, they'd sat at the same table for an hour or two at the banquet, and they had added each other as friends.
"Ugh, give it a rest already."
"No, wait—listen. If we get Lily for this siege, we win for sure. Guaranteed!"
"Does that even make sense to you?!"
"Doesn't exactly not make sense, though~."
"She's got a point."
"Mm. True. You two added each other as friends, didn't you? Then you're friends, aren't you?"
"Friends, sure."
"Acknowledged."
"The Fairy of Acknowledgment has acknowledged it. See? All settled."
"I am pretty much a fairy, yeah."
"You crazy bitch."
Her guild seniors, marching entirely to the beat of their own drums.
Raguel sighed, feeling a headache coming on.
"...Didn't I already message her? Look—she hasn't replied in days. There's no way she's suddenly going to answer just because I sent another one..."
Ding!
"Huh?"
"Oh?"
"Hm?"
Every gaze in the room snapped to the chat window Raguel had shared on the table.
And inside it—
Lily Elbrit
▶ Let's meet and talk about it.
Everyone stared at the chat window, eyes gone perfectly round.
Then one voice pierced the silence and rang across the round table.
"Whoa. Sex."
"Shut up, you crazy bitch!"