Their Hearts
"And after that…?"
"We fled as far as we could, to the safest place we could find. We ran and ran, until at last we raised our banner near the Valharat territory. That was the moment the Asius Army was born."
Anima spoke in a remarkably calm tone, recounting a tragedy of extraordinary scale as if it were nothing more than a matter of fact.
"Having lost my arm, I could no longer wield a sword. From that day on, I sought out every military treatise still in existence and read them all. I believed what our army lacked most was a strategist. Fortunately, it seemed I possessed a modest talent for it — studying never felt particularly difficult."
"…I see."
Only after hearing her explanation did he begin to understand why this nation functioned the way it did.
The extraordinary solidarity unique to the founding members of the Asius Army — it must have been born from the camaraderie of those who had survived tragedy together.
Five people had built a nation of this scale, and not long ago they had even managed to take Lacline Castle. In a certain light, it would not be an exaggeration to call them a rather successful feudal power.
A single line like "deep bonds with their comrades" could never capture the true circumstances of their lives. Their unbreakable fellowship was certainly a light of some value in this chaotic age, where deception was the default foundation of every relationship.
But conversely… would that same fellowship eventually become the very thing that held the Asius Army back?
Just then, Anima looked at him and suddenly spoke.
"Zinor Nighthart."
"Yes?"
"He was the last Prime Minister of the unified empire. A man who once took the Aingart family's coin."
In that instant, something flashed through Anima's eyes — a faint, carefully buried anger that she had kept tightly sealed away.
"A man who held a position of that stature could not possibly have been ignorant of what happened in the empire. And if he truly was ignorant, that in itself would be a problem. I acknowledge that his abilities are exceptional. But… if I had been just a little more capable, we would never have needed to entrust the office of State Strategist to a man of the former empire. It is entirely my own inadequacy."
…
"When I think that if only I had been of more use, we would never have needed to borrow his strength… even now, something I cannot name rises in my throat. I can only feel sorry for everyone. For Epinel. For Emma and Ernandof. And for Yuuri as well…"
So that was it.
Only then did he feel he understood the reason for Anima's defiance.
Zinor himself had done nothing wrong — but she seemed to have an instinctive rejection of anyone who had once been a "high-ranking figure" of the empire.
The soldiers who had attacked Piviola Academy, where she and Yuuri had once studied, had unquestionably been imperial troops. And the only people with the authority to move those soldiers would have been members of the Aingart family.
The others — including Yuuri — had lived through the same ordeal, yet Anima alone still could not accept it. That very fact seemed to weigh heavily on her.
Come to think of it… Luna had been the same. Anima, too.
Somehow, both of them seemed to have lost something precious because of the Aingart family's internal strife.
He didn't know the exact reasons, but… didn't it all feel a little too contrived?
Wasn't every cause concentrated far too heavily on the Aingart family?
It was as if the grudges of the entire world had been funneled toward the sole surviving legitimate heir of the empire — Serpina von Aingart.
Unnaturally so.
Of course, Serpina was a tyrant capable of dragging him from another dimension just to kill him — but even so, he could not shake a strange sense of dissonance he could not quite put into words.
Was it really right for everything to be resolved simply by declaring her the villain?
…Not now.
In any case, that was a secondary concern.
Right now, it was time to return this young woman to Yuuri.
In that case… perhaps he should poke at something that might catch her interest.
"Lady Anima. There is something I have not yet told you."
"What is it?"
"Do you recall that I mentioned we recently reclaimed Lacline Castle?"
"I do."
"My lord has expressed a desire to appoint you as its castellan."
"…!"
Anima's eyes went wide for an instant, the whites showing all around.
Perhaps he should scratch the itch a little more.
"As you know, Lady Anima, becoming a castellan grants a certain degree of authority. Authority that even a State Strategist cannot interfere with — a power unique to the office."
Then, looking straight into her eyes, he spoke as if he were a salesman closing a deal.
"Well? Is this not the perfect moment to demonstrate your abilities once more?"
Anima was silent for a long time after hearing his words. When she finally answered, her voice was barely more than a murmur.
"…The castellan's seat, you say."
"That is correct. And let me say it again — you would be able to exercise authority that even the State Strategist cannot touch."
He deliberately repeated the phrase about the State Strategist being unable to interfere.
Anima seemed to grasp his intent. She looked at him with a meaningful expression.
"Swen, was it?"
"That is correct."
"It seems our nation has gained a rather interesting individual."
"I appreciate the compliment."
His reply of "I appreciate the compliment" seemed to amuse her in its own way. Anima smiled as she spoke.
"…Very well. I shall follow you down the mountain, Swen."
"An excellent decision."
Every word he spoke was pure, unadulterated sincerity.
He had no desire to make the grueling climb back up here again.
Anima muttered something under her breath, then looked at his face.
"Would you wait outside for a moment? I have a few things to put in order. It will not take long."
At Anima's words, Swen nodded.
"Take as long as you need. There's no rush."
"Thank you."
Once Swen had stepped outside the house, Anima rested her chin on her hand and sank into thought.
If they have taken Lacline Castle… that means the Brans Army has collapsed.
Was the Brans Army not the greatest threat the Asius Army faced?
In Anima's judgment, there had been no way to defeat the Brans Army through their own strength alone. The only option had seemed to be to endure somehow and wait for something — anything — to happen.
After retreating into the mountains, she had spent her time devouring military treatises and rewriting them as a way of organizing her thoughts. News of the outside world had been cleanly cut off, whether she wanted it or not. She had turned away every visitor from the Asius Army as well. Having left to train, she had wanted to produce results worthy of the effort.
But when circumstances changed this dramatically, the situation was entirely different.
Had something happened within the Brans Army itself? Or had Zinor managed some kind of achievement of his own?
…I can think about it after I return. It won't be too late.
She had done a great deal of thinking while shut away in these mountains. She no longer intended to dig in her heels simply because someone was of imperial origin.
Even so — if an opportunity to prove herself presented itself, she would seize it without hesitation.
…
Anima thought of the white-haired young man who had just spoken to her with such conviction — asking whether this was not the time to show her abilities once more.
That look in his eyes. Anima had seen eyes like those before.
It was the kind of gaze she had only ever seen in Yuuri, back in their academy days. The clear, overflowing confidence of someone who was certain that everything would go exactly as they intended — a look no ordinary person could possess.
It was still far too early to form a judgment about him, but she was certain of one thing: he was not the sort of ordinary person one encountered every day.
A time when talent was gathering. The collapse of the Brans Army.
Perhaps… an opportunity has come for the Asius Army.
Honestly, more than the prospect of obtaining the castellan's seat itself — it was this feeling that an opportunity had arrived that was moving her.
She had spent her entire life thinking of nothing but the continental unification of the Asius Army. If an opportunity presented itself and she let it slip away, would that not be a terrible waste?
Having organized her thoughts, Anima rose from her seat, packed the bare minimum of belongings, and stepped out through the door.
The Nighthart family estate.
Shut away in her room, Reika lay sprawled across her bed, clutching a doll to her chest.
He didn't come today…
She had been looking forward to going outside with Swen more than anything. But it seemed a summons from their sovereign, Yuuri, meant Swen would not be able to visit today.
There was something I wanted to show Swen, too…
Last night, Reika had finally managed to create not only a fireball, but something resembling a spear of ice in the palm of her hand.
She had lived her entire life never imagining she could use any magic other than that single flame. She had vaguely assumed that creating a ball of fire was all magic was. For someone like her, the mere fact of producing something other than a fireball had been a profound shock.
On the mountain, when she had sensed far more mana than before and entered meditation, she had felt something inside her body "open" with vivid clarity. From that moment on, for reasons she could not explain, she had the sense that if she closed her eyes and gathered mana, she might be able to create something other than flame.
And so she had tried making the "ice spear" that Swen had mentioned — and it had succeeded magnificently.
He really is an incredible person…
At this point, she could no longer bring herself to believe his claim that he was not a mage. How could someone who was not a mage educate her so brilliantly?
Thinking that far, the words her adoptive father had spoken came back to her unbidden.
"What do you think of him as a husband?"
…
Without meaning to, the arms holding her doll tightened. Reika's face flushed as she mouthed the word "husband."
A husband — a companion who would walk through life at her side.
Reika closed her eyes and imagined a life as Swen's wife.
Baking him bread and cakes. Preparing his meals. Taking care of the household so that he could focus on his difficult work. Raising perhaps three children.
She already sensed that as a mage, she was destined to eventually take the battlefield — but that did not mean she had never dreamed of building a warm home with a man.
She had heard that Swen, too, was a commander who fought on the front lines. Perhaps her magic could be of help to him.
That would not be a bad life at all.
Reika herself did not particularly dislike the idea of building such a future with Swen.
But…
Is this… really all right as it is…?
There was a clear difference between "not disliking something" and "wanting it."
As things stood, she could not be certain of her own feelings. She still did not know Swen well enough as a person.
Of course, those were things one came to understand after marriage, living side by side… but there was also the possibility that he was a different kind of person from the one she imagined.
Perhaps he had some strange wall within him that her abilities could never fill.
She felt a little pathetic for thinking such things at a time like this — but once they were married, they would naturally do the things that husbands and wives did, would they not? She was not so young as to be ignorant of such matters.
What… do I actually want?
Her father had told her that if she truly did not want it, she should say so. Of course, she had no intention of refusing. She wanted to repay the kindness of the father who had taken her in.
And crucially, it seemed Swen had not even made a formal marriage proposal yet — so there was no need to think about it so deeply.
Even so… for Reika, who had lived a life so far removed from such things until now, it was impossible not to think about it.
Becoming the wife of a man named Swen.
If that came to pass… would she be able to do it well?
And so Reika spent a long time lost in thoughts of her white-haired teacher.
In this moment, Reika was not the first mage on the continent to open her eyes to mana. She was simply an ordinary young woman of twenty, staying up through the night thinking about the man who might one day become her husband.
"It's been a long time."
Before the gates of Valharat Castle, Anima stood and gazed for a long while at the red banner fluttering from the tower above.
In the eyes that held that flag, countless emotions surged like a tidal wave — and he felt them as naturally as breathing.
He said nothing, simply waiting beside her through her brief reunion with the place.
"…Thank you for waiting."
"Not at all."
He gave a light nod, then followed Anima as she stepped through the gates into the castle.