Waiting (18)
Three months passed, autumn gave way to winter, and even the year changed with them. It had already been nearly half a year since Valdes slipped into the continent and began working in the shadows. Among the many standards the kingdoms of the continent had once discussed together long ago was age; with the year’s turn, everyone had grown one year older.
It was the day after the peaceful first morning of the new year.
At last, the news Valdes had been waiting for spread across the entire continent.
Two heroes had descended upon the Goddess Church to drive back the newly stirring darkness, and an event would be held to gather companions for the two of them. The date was two weeks later—ample time, it seemed, yet laughably short if one expected to gather people from every corner of the continent.
Still, it was enough for wealthy and capable hopefuls to come flocking in from all over.
Moreover, the rulers of the various nations who had heard even a rough outline of the hero summoning were already prepared. They had not known the exact date, but everyone had assumed companions would be recruited sooner or later. So they had quietly selected the people they would send in advance and waited for the announcement.
Of course, there were plenty of exceptions.
In the case of the Ulsro Kingdom, for instance, it was not Queen Beatris but Valdes who took the lead in assembling the representatives. Publicly, it was still said that the queen had handled everything, and in truth, too, she had exerted her influence over all but a few important figures.
The Ventorino Kingdom, on the other hand, failed to prepare in time because King Marc, who had learned of it ahead of schedule, collapsed. Before that, they had chosen to prioritize negotiations while assuming there was still plenty of time, and ended up accomplishing nothing. In any case, there was already too much on their plate, so even after hearing the news, the royal family made no special arrangements.
Then there was the Union Republic. But the elf archer Angelina did not pass on what she had heard to the other senators—not even to the elf senators of her own race, nor to the presiding dragon.
The reason was simple.
"There’s no point in letting some other bastard become the hero’s companion just because I was careless."
Inside the palace, where wood and stone blended together in perfect harmony, Angelina muttered to herself.
Becoming part of the hero’s party was, in itself, a tremendous honor and a chance to make one’s name known throughout the world. And depending on how much one contributed, it could even open the way to a station one had never dared dream of in one’s current life.
Just as it had for her.
"The hero... and the hero’s party, huh…"
Angelina swept her indifferent gaze around the surroundings.
She was in a place she would never have dared imagine stepping foot in eighteen, no, nineteen years ago.
The palace of the High Elf Queen inside the World Tree.
Within the Union Republic—a nation that was neither empire nor kingdom, but a republic—elves were a laughably absurd race that served their own queen. What was more, the High Elf Queen was not even a senator, which meant that, on paper, she held no official public office at all; she was merely a symbolic existence. And yet, in terms of actual authority, the High Elf Queen far surpassed most senators.
This was the place where all elves in the world loved most, the World Tree itself. It was the one and only structure permitted to be built within it. Even among the High Elves, the people called the royal family of the elves, this was where the queen—their supreme being—resided. It was, in every sense, a sanctuary beyond the reach of ordinary folk.
It was not a place a mere herbalist’s daughter should ever have been allowed to enter.
But she was different.
When the war ended, she returned to her country as a hero, then rose to become one of its central powers. From there she kept climbing, eventually forming a deeply personal relationship with the High Elf Queen, and at last becoming one of the upper senators herself.
And all of that had happened in less than twenty years. For a long-lived race like the elves, unlike humans or beastfolk, twenty years was not all that long. She could easily live another hundred years, and then some.
"Heh... ahahaha!!"
Just imagining that future made her burst into laughter.
But to make it real, she needed even more power in her hands.
"The best outcome would be for one of our elves to join the hero. If that doesn’t work, then we need to pull the hero’s party over to our side. And if something goes wrong and an elf from the opposing faction gets in…"
Her brow naturally furrowed.
It was a horrifying thought. Enough people were already beginning to suspect her relationship with the High Elf Queen. On top of that, strange creatures were springing up everywhere now that life had become too comfortable—people insisting that the High Elf Queen should be made a senator, or that the republic should be abandoned entirely in favor of founding a kingdom.
To build her own world, the hero’s party was absolutely essential.
"It’s really hard to eat well and live comfortably… You think so too, right?"
Angelina seemed to be muttering to herself, but then she lowered her head and looked down beneath her feet.
"Huff…! Huff…!"
There, kneeling on the floor, was an elf woman bound tightly in leather clothes and ropes that wrapped around her body from every angle.
It was not the sort of restraint used on prisoners or criminals, but a method of training through pleasure—or, to be more accurate, a way of binding someone as part of play. The relationship between the two women was easy to infer from the gag stuffed into the elf’s mouth and the breathy, bliss-soaked sighs leaking through it.
Angelina snickered, crossed one leg over the other, and idly kicked the woman below her with the foot she had lifted off the ground.
"Hm? I said answer me. Kyaaah, really now—who would ever look at a sight like this and think 'queen'? No matter how you look at it, you’re a slave, not a queen. Ahahaha!"
"Huff…! Huff…!"
Even at her provocative taunts, the bound elf woman—no, the High Elf Queen—simply kept panting, her breath laden with delight.
Accusations and insults meant nothing to her anymore. It had been more than five years since their relationship began. She had long since grown used to Angelina’s words, the words of her queen, her mistress. And more than used to them—she found them arousing.
Knowing that perfectly well, Angelina never held back from hurling abuse at the High Elf Queen either.
"Haah, honestly, I don’t know why the world keeps getting in my way."
With a long sigh, Angelina pulled her eyes away from the queen and lifted her head.
Even then, she made use of the skill of someone who had done this more than once, slipping off her shoes and using her toes to pinch the High Elf Queen’s exposed nipples. She did not spare a single glance for whatever the queen was doing below her in that state.
The queen whom all elves admired without exception was on her knees, groaning through pain and pleasure alike, splattering the floor with the lewd scent of her slick as it leaked from between her legs. To Angelina, that was the most natural thing in the world.
"Still, twin heroes… and some hidden darkness, huh… hmm."
She thought about it.
What in the world was the darkness that had hidden itself within the continent, that the Goddess would descend not one hero but two—twins, no less? Even during the war decades ago, the Goddess had only chosen a single hero for the continent, and that had been after considerable delay.
That point irritated Angelina to no end.
No matter what it is. Anything that stands in my way… I’ll wipe it out.
That was the vow of Angelina, the elf archer of the former hero’s party.
Just as she had once done when she used every means available to kill the hero.
The Emperor sat in his office chair and stared at the wall.
His eyes were fixed on the continental map that covered the entire surface of one side of the room.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The habit that always surfaced when he fell into thought had appeared once more: tapping the armrest of his chair with the tip of his middle finger. That alone made it clear how deeply the Emperor was mired in contemplation.
And he had every reason to be. This matter was a tremendous obstacle that had suddenly inserted itself into the grand undertaking he had been pursuing toward the unification of the continent.
He had not been ignorant of it, of course. Roughly four months earlier, the fourth elder of the Imperial Magic Tower had come rushing in, requesting an audience in a panic. It was not common for the Tower’s mages to ask for an audience, and when they did, it was usually the Tower Master himself. So just as the Emperor had begun to take interest, he heard the story from the fourth elder.
At first, it was absurd.
In a fluster, the fourth elder abruptly reported that a hero had appeared.
At that moment, the hero that came to the Emperor’s mind was Pedro.
He quickly realized it was not him, but even now he could not forget it—the pounding of his own heart when Pedro’s name had surfaced. It had been a tremendous humiliation for the Emperor. The pinnacle of the strongest nation on the continent, and yet he had found himself afraid of a man who was already dead.
And yet, at the same time, Pedro was already gone. The only man who might have stood in the way of his great undertaking had long since been eliminated by the schemes he had laid. Perhaps Pedro would have died even without his interference, but the Emperor preferred certainty.
In any case, the fourth elder said that not one but two new heroes had been summoned.
At that moment, what the Emperor thought of was the dark mage standing before him.
That made sense; the fourth elder of the Tower was not human, but a demon. And not just any demon, but one strong enough to be considered a cadre of the Demon King’s army. Yet he was also, in the rarest of cases, a demon who had betrayed his kind and joined the human side.
Still, the Emperor quickly dismissed the thought. The fourth elder was already bound tightly by contract magic. No matter how skilled he was in black magic, no matter what unusual abilities he possessed as a member of a rare demonic tribe, there was no way he could betray them.
Above all else, he was a coward of the highest order.
"There are two heroes. And they were summoned from another world. Why?"
There were far too many things that made no sense by ordinary standards.
That only made things more confusing.
The scale of the two variables that had entered his plan could not even be measured. Because of that, many parts of the strategy he had laid down had been thrown into disarray, and even proper preparation had become difficult. With the variables so enormous, it had become impossible to draw the larger picture with any confidence.
The Emperor soon found himself pulled unwillingly out of his reverie.
"Your Majesty, the Fourth Princess requests an audience."
"Hm…?"
That was a rare thing indeed.
Theresia was visiting his office?
"Let her in."
The Emperor granted permission at once.
The red-and-white door opened, and a young girl with the long golden-and-silver hair peculiar to the imperial bloodline appeared. Keeping an expression so blank it was almost emotionless, the Fourth Princess, Theresia Dejac, stepped carefully inside and bowed to the Emperor.
"I greet… Your Majesty…."
"Yes. What is it?"
"……."
Even at the Emperor’s question, Theresia hesitated and could not bring herself to answer right away.
"It’s all right. Speak comfortably."
"Your Majesty… um… the Holy Kingdom… can we… go too…?"
"Hah."
At the shy question from the Fourth Princess, he understood what was going on almost immediately. This was not the first time, so not recognizing it would have been stranger.
"That child has been egging you on again, hasn’t she?"
"…!! Th-that’s… no…"
"Heh. Don’t worry. I’m not scolding you. But this time, I can’t do anything about it either. You won’t be able to take part in the event anyway, so there’s no reason to send you there."
"…Yes… then, um…"
In the end, she failed to get what she wanted. She gave the Emperor a small bow, then left the office. Even after Fourth Princess Theresia was gone, the Emperor kept looking fondly at the door through which she had departed. But that only lasted for an instant. In the blink of an eye, his expression returned to its usual stern, cold, and impassive mask.
"I can’t send away valuable assets just yet."
The reason the Emperor had shown such warmth toward his daughter was not because of any paternal affection.
It was because that was the best way to earn Theresia’s favor—and the best way to make use of her. If he could control Theresia easily through strong oppression, the Emperor would have chosen that method without hesitation. That was how the man, before he was a father, dealt with his children as an Emperor.
Theresia’s behavior was the same.
Speaking in fragments in front of the Emperor, and failing to answer quickly even when questioned, was an act bordering on insolence. And yet the Emperor did not so much as urge her on; instead, he soothed her with a gentle expression.
In truth, that was only because Theresia possessed remarkable talent in magic. If not for that, he would have grown irritated long ago and not even bothered to act the part of a kind father. In that sense, it was the same for most of the children under him. Of his nineteen children, only four received special treatment from the Emperor.
The second prince, the seventh prince, the first princess, and the fourth princess.
The rest had long since seen his true nature.
The Emperor turned his chair again and faced the wall where the map hung.
"There is still not enough time. But there is no need to rush. I can live at least twenty more years. So wait five years... just five years, continent. I will make you one."
In the Emperor’s eyes, as he stared at the continental map, a fierce heat of desire burned like wildfire.