Alliance
Alliance
The party remained at Nechagni Fortress for a few more days.
They spent the time recovering their strength and replenishing what had been lost.
Armor, supplies, spent scrolls—the mundane necessities of war.
Aslan used the lull to consider their next objective.
The destination came down to two choices:
the Kingdom of Bida,
or the Northern Empire.
The battle of Nechagni had bled the alliance's military strength dry.
What was more, the coalition's existence had become an open secret among the evil gods. To prepare for what was coming, they would need greater numbers and a stronger alliance.
Both the Northern Empire and the Kingdom of Bida were indispensable for that goal.
The Kingdom of Bida, in particular, had to be brought in to secure stable support from Maria.
Maria's own troops had been present this time, true, but they had held the rear for the entire battle, then promptly withdrawn the moment the fighting ended.
Only by winning the kingdom's full, official backing would the alliance become something whole.
Two problems stood in the way.
King Gerald of Bida was all but an open worshipper of the Cosmic Inevitability, and Maria's influence, however formidable, was not strong enough to swallow the kingdom by itself.
The Northern Empire was hardly free of complications.
It was hostile to the entire Northern Continent and could only be reached by sea. Difficulties were bound to arise the moment they set out.
Aslan had no choice but to weigh his options carefully.
The decision he made now would rest on the shoulders of hundreds or thousands of lives.
What settled his deliberations was a letter.
In the room where the party had gathered, with sunlight slanting through the high windows, Aslan looked at Tiyamal over the envelope in his hand.
"You truly mean... for me to use this?"
The dragon-kin looked appalled. The towering figure, standing a full two and a half meters with an expressive, scaly visage, held a heavy crossbow that looked utterly incongruous in his grip.
A heavy crossbow that, in those enormous hands, appeared no larger than a hand crossbow.
He aimed the weapon, his face annoyed, and Aslan—grateful there was no bolt in the thing—offered an awkward smile.
"It can't be helped. We can't make the kind of bow you need here. The materials alone... even if we forced the issue, it wouldn't be the bow you want. It wouldn't last long, or something would go wrong."
"Even so... one of these..."
Tiyamal stared down at the crossbow in his hands with a crestfallen expression.
He looked like a child who had run around Christmas morning with his present, only to trip and smash it to pieces.
Aslan watched him in silence, then sighed and pulled out a second weapon from behind his back.
"I thought you might say that, so I brought another."
"...The number is not the issue."
The dragon-kin looked even more glum. He accepted it, but his face made his reluctance clear.
Aslan understood his disappointment, but he couldn't do anything about it, so he turned his attention away.
He lifted the letter in his hand, and the party's eyes tracked to it.
"In any case... the next destination has been decided."
"This elder's bow is a matter of great importance. It cannot simply be brushed—"
"Are you sure you don't need more rest?"
Seeing that his grievance had been gently ignored, Tiyamal swished his tail morosely, then gave up and looked toward the letter.
"I thought everyone had sufficient rest... Are you still not recovered? If so, you can stay—"
"Not me. I mean you, Sir Aslan. I am worried about your body."
Richard gestured at Aslan with his chin. Meeting the man's grave look, Aslan paused for a moment.
Then he smiled faintly and brushed it off.
"You don't need to worry about me. I wasn't hurt much."
The reaction was a collective, dubious grimace.
Ereta even came over and placed a hand against Aslan's cheek, channeling life force into him.
Aslan turned his head as the vitality seeped in, and found Ereta gazing at him with tender, affectionate eyes.
It was physical contact out of nowhere, without a clearly defined purpose. Was she touching him in order to share life force, or sharing life force as an excuse to touch him?
It didn't much matter either way.
Aslan pointedly indicated Ereta's hand and said, "Besides, Ereta is here. I'll be fine."
"Well, if that's the case... Alright, then. What is that letter?"
Another chin-gesture, this time toward the envelope. Aslan let it flutter.
"A letter from the Kingdom of Bida."
"...Did Maria send it?"
Richard's reaction was immediate, his posture oddly shrinking. Aslan laughed.
"It's not, so relax."
Richard let out a breath that was half relief, half disappointment. Seeing the young man's reaction, and the questioning looks from the others who didn't yet know who had sent it, Aslan explained.
"It was sent by King Gerald Mul Meland of Bida."
As he spoke, he glanced at Ereta's expression.
A reaction came, just as he expected.
Aslan knew Gerald had been a worshipper of the Fire-weaving Spider, one aspect of the Cosmic Inevitability.
She would inevitably know him.
The hidden motive behind the letter was obvious, but Aslan paid it no mind. He summarized its contents plainly for the party.
Stripped of its archaic script, flowery rhetoric, and roundabout prose, the message was simple.
The king had heard at length of their coalition's mythical feats and found them intriguing.
He wished to invite them to the royal capital, Teveri.
He believed he could provide whatever the alliance needed.
In other words:
"An alliance proposal. And a conditional one at that."
"Correct," Aslan confirmed.
Reactions varied around the room.
"Good timing. You said we needed more people."
"Fay doesn't really care. Whatever Aslan wants is fine."
Angie and Fay fell into the disinterested camp, as if the matter held no weight for them.
"This elder finds something suspicious. And it is absolutely not because of the bow."
"...I don't know why, but something about him offering to join so readily feels a bit..."
Tiyamal and Rumel, hardened by experience and instinct, were quietly wary.
"...Hm."
Richard and Ereta, who knew of King Gerald, looked openly uncomfortable.
Aslan observed their faces and spoke.
"And from what I can see, it's either a trap or a scheme to extract something more complicated from us."
"Wait, really?"
"There it is."
Angie was startled. Tiyamal seemed vindicated, and Rumel sighed, visibly disappointed that real politics weren't as agreeable as an adventure novel.
Aslan catalogued their expected reactions, then shifted his gaze to Ereta. She read the look and opened her mouth in agreement.
"In truth... I have some idea of what King Gerald wants."
Every gaze centered on her. She touched the emblem of her faith hanging at her throat.
"Gerald... worshipped the Mother, the Fire-weaving Spider. He is a man strongly obsessed with his lifespan. He had a chronic illness and used the Mother's divine power to suppress it."
She added, as her eyes slid over to Fay, that now the Spider was gone, he would be looking for another way.
The elf girl, who had been kicking her dangling legs, let out a confused "Hm?" as the attention landed on her.
"Why are you looking at me?"
Ereta ignored Fay's question and continued.
"Gerald will most likely ask us to find the remains of the God of Nature and Creation."
The white-haired woman looked at Aslan with a heartfelt gaze and gave him a frank warning.
"I know the alliance is urgent, but you shouldn't go. It will put you in a difficult position. He's a man of strong obsessions..."
"And what happens if we don't go?"
Before Ereta could answer, it was Richard who replied.
"He'd likely try to interfere with our alliance indirectly. He could apply pressure to the Hilsinger Duchy, cut off sea trade routes, or in the worst case, even strike at the City of Mages."
The possibilities were endless. He had enough tools at his disposal to pick and choose. Aslan nodded, acknowledging the point, while his mind worked the problem.
Unlike the Kallus Empire, whose imperial authority was weak from centuries of forced territorial expansion and prolonged war under the War God's iron fist, the Kingdom of Bida had maintained its national strength while steadily consolidating royal power under the placid faith of the Cosmic Inevitability.
That was one of the reasons Maria had extended her influence into the underworld. If they refused, as Richard suggested, trouble would follow.
Accepting wouldn't lead to anything pleasant either.
Even the likes of Angie and Tiyamal were beginning to realize it.
This was going to be troublesome.
As the group struggled for a solution, faces strained, only Fay looked cheerful.
"Sounds annoying. Can't we just kill him?"
It was a very Fay-like answer.
The emotionlessly spoken will of the elven Sword Master made Richard grimace.
"That would just create more chaos... better not. The Kingdom of Bida has vast territory, with many vassals sworn to it..."
"Then can't we just kill them all too?"
"That would cause even more chaos."
"Can't that woman who torments you every night just take power?"
The nickname 'Rick' and the mention of the woman who tormented him every night—an unmistakable reference to Maria. Richard looked even more pained.
"It's not... it's not that simple. If the king dies, that's the last thing Maria needs. The kingdom will fracture. It'll be a disaster..."
"Really? Too bad."
Fay sounded genuinely regretful. Richard's eyes seemed dazed by the elf's casually swinging legs. He cleared his throat and concluded.
"Anyway, if that happens, any alliance is out of the question. We won't even be able to set foot in Bida for a long while."
"Annoying."
Angie clicked her tongue and folded her arms beneath her heavy chest. She was right. It was beyond annoying.
Without the knowledge Aslan possessed, they would have had precious few options.
He spoke lightly.
"Actually, I've already made my decision."
The party's eyes snapped to him.
"I intend to accept."
"But things will get complicated if you do..."
"Why do you think King Gerald wants to find the God of Nature and Creation?"
He put the question to a puzzled Richard, who stopped short with an "Uh."
"I—I'm not sure... To extend his lifespan?"
"Correct. He wants to extend his lifespan. So, what's the most important factor there?"
Aslan probed. Richard cupped his chin, the mana-tattooed eyebrow twitching.
"That his lifespan... gets extended?"
Aslan nodded. King Gerald wanted a longer life. The method didn't matter.
"He won't care how it happens, as long as it does. And as it happens, we have a way to satisfy that condition."
Puzzled faces stared back at him. Aslan noted each one and added casually,
"A method that won't cause us any problems, won't complicate anything, and will resolve things in a favorable direction."
Maybe they hadn't thought such a perfect method existed. The party looked deeply confused.
Except for one.
"...Ah."
Fay was giggling.
"That's a fun method!"
She knew what he was thinking. The elf covered her mouth and laughed, a childish sound full of genuine delight.
A mischievous smile, and sincere amusement. Seeing that rare sincerity from Fay, Aslan let his mind wander.
In the Elf Land where the God of Nature and Creation resided, many of the sub-quests available were unique, as were their rewards.
Among them was a reward that changed the user's race to an elf.
It was something of a trap, and taking it would create all kinds of complications for the player going forward...
'But if I'm handing it to King Gerald, none of that matters.'
It was the perfect tool for this situation.