Chapter 1 - Hey, How About an International Conference?
For a while, it had gone unnoticed that no one had seen clouds heavy with snow in quite some time.
In its place, weak rays of light started to filter to the ground, gently settling onto the earth. Between piles of snow, green buds began pushing through the earth, and the wind had started to grow warm.
Soon, the animals that had managed to endure the cold would begin to stir.
Winter in Natra was coming to an end.
“Yawn…”
The warm sun poured through the windows, causing the crown princess of Natra, Falanya Elk Arbalest, to yawn just a little. She hurriedly clasped her hand over her mouth.
Casting a timid glance at the elderly man in front of her, she prayed he hadn’t noticed.
However, this was Claudius, her instructor who had spent many years teaching noble children. There was no way her little wish would come true.
“It appears you are bored by my lesson.”
“N-not at all, Claudius,” Falanya replied, insisting on keeping up appearances. “I was hanging on every word. That was, um, because I had insufficient rest last night. I’m sure you know what’s happening today.”
“Hmm…” He considered her cheeky rebuttal. “In that case,” he started again, with elderly mischief, “am I right to assume you know where we left off, Your Highness?”
“Of—of course!” Falanya yelped, her eyes scanning the textbook in her hands as she racked her mind for the last bits of Claudius’s lecture. It had to be…around here…!
“It was about Naliavene, the homeland of Natra’s founder, King Salema!”
“……” Claudius’s eyes bored into her, as if to tell her to spit out what she was hiding, but she confidently met his eyes.
Her heart was pounding in her chest as she waited for him to say something.
All of a sudden, Claudius smiled. “I see. You were listening this whole time. An error on my part. Please forgive me, Princess Falanya.”
“…It’s all right, Claudius. Everyone makes mistakes.” Falanya flashed a big smile even though on the inside she was breathing a mental sigh of relief. In her own estimation, the princess thought she looked all business. To everyone else, she still mostly came off as a small, adorable animal attempting to appear more intimidating by standing taller.
Claudius was proud of her progress. With feigned nonchalance, he thumbed through his textbook—to the section on Naliavene that Falanya had just referenced. If this was what she’d heard, so be it.
“Well, let us continue… Two hundred years ago, the western Kingdom of Naliavene had two princes, Galea and Salema. They were gifted and like-minded, known to the people as the Twin Swords of Vene.”
One of the Twin Swords, Salema, had become the founding king of Natra. In other words, he was Falanya’s ancestor.
“However, the princes were too talented, which created a particular issue. Princess Falanya, would you like to take a guess what the problem might have been?”
“Umm…” It could have been a number of things. She chose the one that seemed the most plausible. “Because it made it hard to choose the next heir?”
Claudius nodded. “Indeed. With each new accomplishment, the factions that sprung up around the two grew more powerful until not even the princes could control them anymore. They had always had a good relationship, and this unwanted antagonism caused them quite the headache.”
“Wait a second. Didn’t these princes have a father… The king? Couldn’t he decide his successor?”
“The general consensus was that even the king could not control the factions… But according to the notes later left by King Salema, the princes’ power frightened the ruler of Naliavene, which led him to intentionally pitting them against each other to protect his throne.”
Falanya looked perplexed. “‘To protect his throne’…? But wouldn’t he have had to pass it on to one of the princes at some point?”
“Yes, that was unavoidable, but it’s human nature for those with great power to delay losing it. This apprehension must have made him forget his duty as a parent and a king.”
A grimace appeared on the princess’s face. In Falanya’s world, the royal family consisted of her, her older brother, and her father. As people, aristocrats, and family, her brother and father had set wonderful examples for her. It was hard to stomach the thought that a father—and king—would encourage his own children to fight among themselves.
“Whatever the truth of the situation, the internal conflict continued to intensify as the king failed to intervene. Nearby nations used this opportunity to invade Naliavene. But this was not enough to curb the factions and their one-track minds. Salema made an important decision under the belief that the nation was headed for destruction.”
“I got it. He left the country, right?”
Falanya guessed Salema had come upon their shores and established Natra, but Claudius shook his head.
“No. He would have risked getting caught by his faction and been dragged back, forced to serve as their figurehead again. Even if he had managed to get away successfully, the remaining son and the king would have become locked in a power struggle, leaving them vulnerable to attacks of enemy nations. Salema desired internal unification of power…as soon as possible.”
“So what did he do?”
Claudius was silent for a few moments before starting again in a level tone.
“They say it was in the audience hall. As the king sat on his throne, Salema approached, telling him he had an important matter to discuss. Then—he killed the king with a concealed knife.”
Falanya’s eyes widened. “He…killed him?! He killed the king…?! His own father?!”
“Yes. Other nations have recorded the event in the same way. There is no doubt.” With Falanya—aghast—in his periphery, Claudius continued. “Salema was swiftly apprehended. It is said he did not resist. Assassinating the king is a heinous crime, and his faction fell apart. This helped Galea consolidate all power. He suppressed the chaos breaking out among the nobility and put a complete halt to foreign invasions.”
“He…killed the king to protect the nation…”
She tried to picture it, placing herself in his shoes. Could she have done the same? She thought of the current king, her father, the one who she loved and admired. Imagined plunging a knife through him.
…Absolutely not. There was no way she could ever do it. It was impossible.
And yet, she realized that she carried the blood of Salema, who had done exactly that.
“Do you feel unwell, Your Highness?”
“…No, I’m fine. Please continue, Claudius.”
He hesitated slightly but started again when he saw how Falanya look at him head-on.
“Galea ascended to the throne and pardoned his brother after the war. Salema had been destined for execution, but he was allowed to go into exile instead. He washed up on no-man’s-land, gathered a group of his loyal followers from his homeland, and established the Kingdom of Natra.”
“…Did Galea know why Salema did what he did?”
“According to his notes, it seems they had discussed it beforehand. The truth is: Natra was secretly established with Naliavene’s support. There is no question the two were coconspirators.”
“I see,” Falanya responded before letting out a sigh. “I have mixed feelings about this…”
“It was not what Salema wished for. But at times, being royalty can mean making difficult choices.”
“But I could never do that.”
“Then what would you have done in this situation, Princess Falanya?”
“I…” She was at a loss for words.
Uncontrollable factions. A father-king standing in the way. Encroaching foreign enemies.
What would she do in this situation?
There was one thing. Just one. The most obvious action that she could take.
“—I’d talk about it with Wein!” she declared.
Even Claudius was surprised by this, blinking back at her with wide eyes. Moments later, he let out a loud guffaw.
“I see. When you’re that resolute, I cannot help but commend you. I’m certain Prince Wein would have an idea to turn everything on its head, even in such a difficult predicament.”
“Of course he would. He is my big brother, after all.” Falanya puffed out her chest as if bragging about herself.
Right then, the distant sounds of a commotion filtered through the window.
“Ah!” Falanya rushed over to the sill, spotting a group on horseback in front of the palace. “Um, Claudius,” she started, turning back to him.
The elderly instructor nodded. “Very well. It is a little early, but let us end here for today.”
“Thank you!” Before he finished his sentence, Falanya had already flown out of the room.
Gathering the hem of her skirt, she pattered down the hallway. Along the way, the eyes of the vassals and court ladies widened at the sight of the princess barreling through, but she paid them no mind.
She knew they were returning today. That’s why she had trouble sleeping the night before. As her heart pounded against her chest, she finally reached the entrance hall where the group had now gathered. Falanya picked out one of them.
“Ninym!” she shouted.
Waving in reply was a white-haired girl with red eyes—Ninym Ralei. She was a vassal who served the royal family, but Falanya thought of her more as an older sister.
“Oh my, Princess Falanya. To be personally greeted by you. I’m delighted.” Ninym fell to one knee and smiled.
“Come on, Ninym. I’m just happy you’re home. That aside—”
“I understand. Over that way.” Ninym pointed.
Falanya followed her finger, spotting a boy who was deep in conversation with a small crowd. He was slightly older than her, someone whom she held in high regard and trusted with her life.
The crown prince of the Natra, Wein Salema Arbalest.
“Wein!” she squealed, leaping into his arms as soon as she spotted him.
“Whoa—” He caught her, swinging around in a full circle from the momentum before gently placing her feet back on the floor. He flashed her a smile.
“I’m home, Falanya.”
“Welcome back. I’m relieved to see you’re well.”
As he stroked her hair, Falanya’s eyes closed—finally content.
“Let’s tour the kingdom over the winter.”
The end of summer was when Wein had first brought up this idea.
“We’ll visit the territory of each vassal and set up fresh opportunities to talk with them. This is the time to secure a solid base of support, especially when I’m taking over for the king.”
When Wein was appointed regent, he’d gone to greet most of the notable figures of Natra. But that hadn’t been enough for both parties to gauge each other’s character.
As the crown prince, Wein needed to prepare far in advance before he made any public appearances, a process that usually included an official statement. If he made an impulsive decision to set out at the beginning of winter, it would create problems for both the departing team and receiving parties. That was why it was never too early to start thinking about these things.
Except for one problem.
“Why pick the time of year when there’s gonna be a bunch of snow?”
Ninym had a point. As the northernmost nation on the continent, winter in Natra was brutal. Of course, its residents had grown accustomed to the climate over the years, but that didn’t mean they found the snow any easier to travel in. After all, it wasn’t as though they could spread their wings and fly.
But Wein had his own reasons.
“We have to keep an eye on our neighbors, which means our only opportunity to make the rounds will be during the winter.”
In the East, the Empire had become unstable, leaving the entire continent in a state of disarray. As the link between East and West, Natra had to be vigilant of its surroundings. The speed of its response to an emergency hinged entirely on the prince regent’s presence at the palace. Ninym could understand why Wein would insist on touring the provinces in winter, when movements of neighboring nations would be grinding down to a crawl.
“Of course, I know that it’ll be hard for us to travel through the snow. But I think the effort of pushing through to meet with the lords of the realm will leave a good impression.”
Wein flashed his most princely smile, but Ninym looked at him skeptically.
“Okay, Goody Two-Shoes—what’s your real motive?”
“To see if these guys are planning to rebel with my own two eyes…!”
There it is. Ninym sighed, looking up at the ceiling. “But there hasn’t been talk of any rebellions, right?”
“Exactly. Think about it. Our feudal system has been holding Natra together for two hundred years. It would be plain weird if they didn’t try to pull a fast one on us when there’s a major shift in power.”
The feudal system was based on the principle that a monarch divided territory among various vassals. In return, they would pay taxes and answer calls to arms. Natra was one of many nations on the Varno continent that had adopted this system. But this style of rule came with its own set of dangers.
In many cases, landed vassals were permitted to raise personal retinues. These forces were nominally supposed to supplement the monarch’s armies in times of war and maintain order in each vassal’s individual domain. On the flip side, it also gave them the necessary tools to defy sovereign rule.
Naturally, most rulers had more soldiers than their vassals, which meant the nobles couldn’t really rebel at a moment’s notice. Plus, there was the whole issue of biting the hand that fed you.
But as the years went by, and the land was inherited by new heirs, all that history about receiving the land from the monarch began to fade from living memory. With the monarch’s influence and the military might of the kingdom in decline, it was natural for vassals to want to seize the opportunity to secure more for themselves.
As Wein had said, the Kingdom of Natra’s two-hundred-year history was the longest in the entire continent, and the noble families had lived on their lands for generations. With the current king ill, his replacement a young prince, and a recent war with another nation weakening the kingdom’s troops, the vassals were only growing bolder.
“I mean, if I were in their shoes, I’d make sure something was done…!” Wein declared.
Ninym sighed. “But I can’t imagine there’s anyone else in this country like you.”
From her perspective, he was just overthinking things.
Of course, she knew there were vassals who did not think highly of Wein. Ever since he was appointed regent, he’d been getting involved in all kinds of business, inevitably running a few nobles off from their positions and livelihoods. At the same time, his balance as a politician was impeccable. Wein always took care not to oppose key influencers while pursuing his vision in national politics. The nobles that did hold a grudge against him were the ones without much clout.
Meanwhile, Wein was popular among his troops—especially with a victory against Marden under his belt. Even though his forces had yet to make a complete recovery, the number of people in the nation with guts to openly oppose Wein had to be paltry.
It’d be a different story if a competent leader took the reins and gathered the disgruntled nobles together, but we’re on good terms with those people. Without power, even the most antagonistic nobles choose obedience.
If nothing else, Ninym was fairly certain that a large-scale revolt wasn’t on the horizon anytime soon. She wasn’t against the idea of Wein touring the kingdom. It was important for rulers to connect with their vassals. It wasn’t unprecedented for a hated king’s cries for help to go unheeded. Moreover, even though he was in line for the throne, Wein was still young. Going out of his way to meet with the big shots would make a good impression.
Ninym thought she had it all figured out. But Wein was barking up a totally different tree.
“Those opposed to me will probably want to take advantage of our visits and try to assassinate me. We’ll have to prepare escape routes ahead of time. While we’re at it, how about we scrap most of our guard detail? If we play it right, we’ll be justified in crushing ’em…”
“Okay, but why would you go out of your way to stir the pot as a decoy?”
“Hey, c’mon, Ninym. Think about it. If I use myself, I can reel in the rebels without spending any extra cash, right? And once I squash them, my rule will be rock-solid. I can’t think of a single reason not to do it.”
“……” Ninym heaved another sigh.
On a related note, the Empire’s Imperial Princess Lowellmina had recently come to Wein, using herself as bait in an attempt to start a rebellion in Imperial territory and failing spectacularly. Ninym had hit the nail on the head when she’d first assessed they were two peas in a pod.
“In conclusion, I think we should start making moves. Ninym, I trust you to handle all prep.”
“…Fine, I’ll go along with it. But don’t come crying to me when things don’t go the way you planned. Deal?”
“Oh, relax. I’ll get those rebels good.”
Wein was brimming with confidence.
Returning to the present, the royal tour had just come to a close.
“Everyone with their friggin’ poker faces! This is unbelievable!”
Sure enough, Wein was found wailing in his office in Willeron Palace as Ninym stood beside him. After parting with Falanya, he had peeled himself out of his travel clothes, quickly bathed, and squeezed in a quick meeting with his vassals. Now here he was.
“I tried to warn you.” Ninym shrugged as she watched Wein squirm in agony.
“What the heck?! Where’s your motivation?! This was your big chance, guys! If not now, then when?! This is the part where you step up! Take charge! Forge your own path!”
“Why? That’s simple. This country isn’t worth rebelling over.”
“Gack!”
“If anything, it’s too much work for a loss in profits.”
“Gugh!”
“It’s easier to leave the boring tasks to you, kick back, and collect an easy paycheck.”
“NOOOOOOOOOO!” Wein shrieked.
Ninym posed a basic question. “Were you that eager for a rebellion?”
“I don’t want one at all! But I would be lying if I said I wasn’t hoping for a minor rebellion that’s easy to suppress and gives us grounds to seize their fortunes—to fill the country’s coffers!”
“Ah yes. A perfectly egotistical plan.”
Even Ninym could only feel exasperated by her master’s rotten nature.
“Well, in any case, now we know. All the powerful nobles you paid a visit to are supportive, and there are no known rumors of opposition brewing. Even if some are unsatisfied, there isn’t a single person in Natra with the strength to overthrow you at this moment.”
Ninym was right. Wein had been warmly welcomed in many of the territories they had visited. Certainly, they had their own motives and goals for supporting him. But the majority were ready to hop aboard Wein’s ship.
“Uuuugh! I toiled through hardship and braved the snow, and this is what I get…? I won’t give up. Plan B has to work.”
Wein’s plan to travel to each area with a small guard detail to invite open rebellion had failed. But Wein had another scheme ready in his back pocket.
“I’m sure that one will face the same fate.”
“Hey, that’s not true! I think! I know! I hope…” He trailed off, thinking about his last failure before face-planting on his desk.
“…I’m suddenly exhausted.”
“I knew your plot was destined to fail. But that doesn’t change the fact that touring the kingdom in the winter was tough. You can relax now; we’re back safe and sound. We should go to bed early tonight.”
“No kidding… Whose idea was it to do this during winter anyway?”
“Yours, Wein.”
“Oh yeah…” Wein moaned weakly from the desk. “Wait; this is bad. I forgot this was the work zone. Why am I relaxing in here? Makes me seem like a workaholic…”
“I don’t see anything wrong with that.”
“It’s terrible!” Wein shouted, sitting up emphatically from his desk. “If I keep this up, I’ll become an uptight square who looks for work in retirement—even after I finish selling out the country! I should be…living the lazy life, starting right now!”
“I see…”
“What’s this? C’mon now. What’s with that attitude? I bet you’re thinking Here he goes again, spouting the same ol’ bull. I’ll have you know that I’m gonna follow through! I totally will!”
“With what time and money?”
“……” Wein banged his head on the desk.
“I’m certain your legacy will live on as a beautiful tale.”
“Yeah, they’ll remember me as the supreme hot genius prince…”
“‘Hot’ is pushing it.”
“I’ll never understand why you’re so hard on my looks, Miss Ninym…”
“As your servant, it is only natural.”
That’s definitely not natural.
But as soon as that thought crossed Wein’s mind, there was a knock at the office door before it was thrown open.
“Wein, Ninym, may I come in now?”
“—Of course. I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, Falanya.”
His change in demeanor could truly be considered an expert performance. Wein adopted the air of a capable young scion as he greeted Falanya. Ninym flashed him a look: Damn show-off. He ignored it with grace.
“How were things while we were away, Falanya? Anything odd happen?”
“Everything was the same as always. I listened to Claudius’s lectures; I played with Nanaki; I ate Holly’s pancakes—”
Falanya started to rattle off occurrences in her daily life. Wein and Ninym listened carefully, occasionally interjecting to make appropriate comments. From this conversation, they gathered that she was beloved by many who served the palace.
“—That sounds nice. I’m relieved to hear everything was good at home.” Wein stroked Falanya’s hair when she finished, and she broke into a contented smile.
“How did things go for you, Wein?”
“We were able to meet everyone as planned and assess conditions in each of the provinces. The outcome was better than expected.”
“That’s just what I’d expect from you,” Falanya praised before sulking. “You could have come home sooner, though.”
“Come now. Don’t be like that, Falanya. We tried to pack in as much as possible in the little time we had. Right, Ninym?”
“Precisely. It’s inevitable that traveling in the winter takes time. Curtailing our trip any further would have proved difficult.”
“Grr. You’re taking his side, Ninym?” Falanya puffed up her checks. “Why do you have to go out to greet people in the first place, Wein? You’re the prince regent. They should be summoned to the palace instead.”
“That’s exactly why. I’m in a position where I can call upon others. If I go out myself, I honor the other person.”
He had actually been trying to lure out rebels, but he could never tell her that. If he did, his sister would definitely get angry and say he was terrible for doubting his vassals.
Well, she’s cute when she’s mad, too, Wein thought.
I suppose he has a point, Falanya acquiesced.
The siblings nodded at each other at the same time.
“Hmm, I see.”
Based on her expression, Wein could see it was clear that Falanya reluctantly accepted his answer. That was only natural since it wasn’t sound logic that was most important to her but her big brother’s affections.
Wein knew this, and it made him smile.
“Don’t worry, Falanya. I’ll be stuck in the palace for a while, recovering from this trip. I promise to make up for all the lonely moments that you endured.”
“Really?” Falanya’s eyes sparkled.
“Of course. Well, it’s getting late. You should head back to your room for the night.”
Her mood immediately turned dour. “What? But even the moon is out playing with the stars.”
“No dice. I heard you didn’t sleep yesterday. I bet you’re tired right now.”
“Urgh…”
Wein’s pointed observation left her speechless. In all honesty, sheep were already crowding the back of her mind as bedtime drew near.
“I plan on turning in early, too. Ninym will see you off.”
“Well, let us get going, Princess Falanya.”
“Hmph… Remember your promise, Wein. You can’t forget.”
“Yes, of course. I wouldn’t lie to you.”
Falanya had no argument. She pouted and left the room with Ninym.
All alone, Wein spoke to himself.
“—Well…”
It would be spring in Natra soon. On the southern end of the continent, the winter season had already departed, meaning all the nations of the land were beginning to buzz with activity once again.
“…That’s only if nothing happens,” Wein murmured, hoping for the best.
Of course, there was no way his wish could be granted.
“An emissary from Cavarin?”
Just as it seemed like they’d finally recovered from their long journey, taken care of miscellaneous matters, and resumed business as usual, the announcement came.
“Yes, they arrived moments ago. It appears they have an official message from the king of Cavarin,” Ninym added.
Wein folded his arms as he considered this news. Cavarin was a nation bordering Natra to the west. They had only become neighbors the previous year. Before that, the territory had been a nation known as Marden.
But during the Natra–Marden War over the gold mine, Cavarin troops had attacked and conquered the former royal capital of Marden, Tholituke. With most of the royal family captured and executed, Marden was no more, making Natra and Cavarin new neighbors. But with only a nonaggression pact to define their relationship, both kingdoms fell into a vague diplomatic situation that was neither friendly nor hostile.
There were reasons for this. Natra was busy running its new gold mine and negotiating deals with the Empire in the East, while Cavarin’s occupation was met with resistance by the Marden army. Both kingdoms had their hands full thinking about this sort of thing.
“Hmm. I’m guessing this official letter isn’t a declaration of war.”
“What do you want to do? Sending someone else to receive them instead of going yourself is an option.”
“No, I’ll go. I don’t know how much this emissary knows, but I want to dig for leads.”
“Understood. I’ll arrange a meeting. Before that, there is one thing about the emissary…”
As Wein had ordered, an appointment was set. Since the Cavarin delegation hailed from the West, there were no Flahm in the room—including Ninym. Accompanied by his guards, Wein headed to the room where a man reminiscent of a reedy, withering tree waited for him.
“—It is my pleasure to meet you, Prince Regent,” the man announced with a masterful bow and a thick voice that almost seemed viscous. “My name is Holonyeh. I am but a single servant of the king of Cavarin. I have come to your nation on his behalf.”
Holonyeh. Wein gave no reaction upon hearing the name. After all, Ninym had told him beforehand.
“We warmly welcome you, Lord Holonyeh.” Wein nodded, gazing at him intently. “Before discussing the subject at hand, there’s something I’d like to ask. Didn’t you serve the Kingdom of Marden? Or is my memory failing me?”
“Oh, dear me.” Holonyeh smiled rather than appearing shaken. “As perceptive as the rumors claim… I’m in awe. You are right; I was indeed in the pay of Marden. But after the nation collapsed, and I found myself at a loss, I was appointed to a new position by the ruler of Cavarin, King Ordalasse.”
“And then you rose up to become the emissary of a neighboring nation. Not one to miss an opportunity, I see,” Wein added sarcastically.
“It is all thanks to the great King Ordalasse.” Holonyeh only bowed his head reverently.
I guess anyone who would take such obvious bait would never get hired in the first place.
Wein had taken a jab at Holonyeh to get a feel for his character, but it was a wasted effort. He switched gears and decided to get to the heart of the matter.
“Lord Holonyeh, I gather you’re here on some kind of mission for King Ordalasse?”
“Indeed. I ask that you look at this.”
He presented a sealed letter with the crest of Cavarin carved into the wax. Inside was a single sheet with King Ordalasse’s signature at the bottom. There was no questioning its authenticity. As Wein read it, his eyes widened.
“Lord Holonyeh… Is this real?”
“Yes. I have a message from the king, as well.” Holonyeh paused before continuing. “In order to deepen the friendship between the kingdoms of Natra and Cavarin, the king wishes to invite you, Prince Regent, to attend our Festival of the Spirit held at the royal capital—”
A few days had passed since the arrival of Cavarin’s emissary.
“Invited to the Festival of the Spirit, huh?” Falanya groaned as she toyed with a feather quill.
She had heard about the meeting between Wein and the emissary. Her main takeaway was that her beloved big brother would be going on another trip, but—
“Hey, Claudius. You’re from the West, right? Do you know about the Festival of the Spirit?”
“Why, of course.” The tutor nodded as he carried on his lesson in a new direction. “Do you know the Teachings of Levetia, Princess?”
“It’s a famous religion in the West, I think?”
Levetia was a monotheistic religion established a few hundred years prior. It had a particularly strong hold in the West.
“That should be enough context. The Festival of the Spirit is a Levetian ritual held in early spring. It began when the founder, Levetia—with the protection of God—freed the masses from the demons torturing them. It is now celebrated as a day to express gratitude for the great feat. As a matter of fact, there are devotees throughout Natra who participate in their own events.” Claudius cracked a small smile.
“Naturally,” he continued, “the general purpose of the festival is to celebrate the coming of spring. Honoring Levetia is for the most pious of believers.”
“I gather Cavarin is inviting Wein to this festival to become better friends with Natra?”
“Well, I’m merely a humble instructor. It is rather difficult for me to answer that question,” he replied, shaking his head. “If I could bring up one point of concern, it is that the Festival of the Spirit in the royal capital takes place at the same time as the Gathering of the Chosen this year.”
“The Gathering of the Chosen?” Falanya tilted her head.
“The Holy King is the head of Levetia, and those who serve under him as assistants are called the Holy Elites. The Holy King is chosen from among them. You could also say the Holy Elites are candidates for the Holy King.”
Claudius drew a simple triangle. Holy King was written at the very top with Holy Elites on the level directly beneath it, followed by Priests and Believers.
“The Holy King and the Elites meet once a year. This is called the Gathering of the Chosen.”
Falanya considered this new information for a few moments. “Is it a very important meeting?”
Claudius nodded. “Indeed. The Teachings of Levetia is the most prominent religion in the West. In addition to the Holy King and Elites, there will be an array of other rulers and influential figures in attendance. This gathering might be considered the largest international conference in the West.”
“Ah, and it’ll take place in Cavarin, which means…”
“Correct. King Ordalasse is one of the Holy Elites.”
The location of the gathering changed each year on a rotational basis, always hosted in an Elite’s city of residence. This year, it would be held in Cavarin’s royal capital alongside the Festival of the Spirit.
“…Wein showed me the letter, but it didn’t say anything about the Gathering of the Chosen. Just that he was invited to the festival.” Falanya moaned once again. “I wonder what their king could be planning?”
“There must be some motive. Especially since it cannot be said that the Holy Elites have no relation with Prince Wein…or rather, with the royal family of Natra.”
“What do you mean?”
“The relationship between the Holy King and the Holy Elites began with the founder, Levetia, and the lead disciples. To become an Elite, one must carry the blood of Levetia or one of the followers…”
Falanya understood what he was getting at. “…Which means our family…”
“Yes. As a member of the royal family in Naliavene, our founder, Salema, is descended from an ancient bloodline related to Levetia’s disciple, Galeus.”
In other words, his descendants—including Wein and Falanya—fulfilled one of the conditions required to become a Holy Elite.
Falanya never realized she had this blood coursing through her veins in addition to being royalty. She stared, fixated, at her hands.
“Of course, that only satisfies a single requirement. Any who truly wish to become a Holy Elite would need assets, military power, political clout, and a number of other things.”
“……”
The Festival of the Spirit and the Gathering of the Chosen. It was obvious that Cavarin had invited Wein—a possible Elite—with hidden intentions in mind. Falanya couldn’t imagine what they could be, but they had to pose a danger to Wein.
“I wonder what Wein will do…”
This was a matter of national politics. As she was now, she had no right to interfere. That said, she wanted Wein to stay home for as long as possible. Falanya held on to these thoughts with concern for her brother, all the while wishing they could stay together.
Meanwhile.
“I DON’T WANNA GOOOOOOOO!” Wein screamed in his office. “BUT I GOTTA!”
“I knew this would happen,” Ninym said at his side as he cradled his head in his hands. “The timing is perfect. There’s nothing weird about inviting you to the festival. With spring just over the horizon, of course they’d be thinking about reexamining our unstable relationship.”
“…Don’t you think there’s a possibility they’re calling me out to set up an assassination?”
“I can’t rule it out. But that would just provoke Natra into declaring war. With Cavarin already trying to deal with the remnants of Marden’s army, it would mean fighting on multiple fronts. Wouldn’t it be more strategic for them to seek cooperation by strengthening our alliance?”
“Yeah, you’re right. If it had been any other year, I swear I would have honestly thought the same thiiiiiiiing!”
Ninym nodded. “It’s worth noting that this meeting coincides with the Gathering of the Chosen at their royal capital. Of course, it could merely be a total scheduling coincidence…”
“There’s no way. My guess is that it’s a ploy to have me join the Holy Elites. I mean, it’s pretty much a de facto political faction.”
“With your accomplishments and pedigree, they’re probably considering you as a future Elite… They must be hoping to properly evaluate you. They’ll want to establish the pecking order while they still can.”
Of course, this was just a theory. But in either case, the greatest powerhouse of the West was expecting him. There was no way he could duck out with a quick greeting.
“If I go, I’ll definitely get caught up in some kind of trouble.”
“I don’t doubt it.” Ninym nodded. “But it would be unfortunate to let this chance at improving relations with the West slip by.”
“Yeah, you’ve got a point…” He trailed off. “Aaaah! Why?!” Wein unleashed his anguish. “I know we’ve got a trade-dependent economy… But our relationship with the West has been on hold for the past hundred years. Teaming up with Cavarin could be huge for us! And if everything works out, our country’s value will soar!”
After all, their founder had anticipated this barren land would become a bustling hub connecting the East and West. Although the northern lands had various disadvantages, they still managed to flourish until those hundred years of deteriorating relations with the West.
“Then, I take that you’ll accept their invitation?”
He had been personally invited by the king himself. If Wein wanted a direct conversation, he had no choice but to go there. A pained look crossed his face for a moment as he thought things over, but ultimately he nodded.
“…Yeah, let’s do it. We can’t tell what the other side is thinking with our limited information. I don’t think they’ll try to kill me. I’m gonna jump right in.”
“Things are going to get busy again, even though we only got back to the palace just the other day.”
“No kidding… Why am I working so much…?”
“Because you’re the crown prince of Natra, obviously,” Ninym quipped, giving the slouched Wein a side-glance. She turned on her heel. “Well then, I’ll go ahead and prepare a schedule. I’ll leave other matters to you, Wein.”
“‘Other matters’? …Oh right, replying to the letter.”
“That, too; but there’s something else even more important.”
“Care to remind me?”
“Apologizing to Falanya.”
“Oomph…”
Wein looked up at the ceiling and seriously despaired over what he should tell his little sister now that he had to break his promise to spend time together.
Fate had already begun weaving a new tale.
Heralded by the death of the Earthworld’s Emperor, this era became known as the Great War of Kings. The chance meeting between Wein Salema Arbalest and the Holy Elites would give rise to chaos across the Western continent.
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