Negotiation

Rebecca jolted when her name was suddenly called. For the tiny heir of a fallen family, the scene before her and the circle of important figures around her were things she had never even dreamed of. Even when she had run into the woods as a child to fight wolves and been knocked unconscious by a swipe of a paw, she had never experienced hallucinations on this level. Watching her ancient ancestor chat and laugh with these great figures, she had even forgotten that she herself was one of the important participants in this meeting.

But Rebecca's strength lay in her stubbornness. Though still somewhat dazed, she calmed herself through sheer—almost terminally necrotic—mental resilience. After gathering her thoughts, the little lord from the southern countryside began recounting to the king the nightmare that had unfolded in Cecil Territory.

Everyone listened with rapt attention. Though they had not expected such a young girl to speak, the disaster itself made every one of them fall silent in grave seriousness.

Everyone present knew more or less about what had happened along the southern border. The matter was spreading throughout the south, with all sorts of rumors flying everywhere. Of course, this was not entirely Gawain's doing. What he had sent people to spread was mainly news of his "resurrection"; he had not particularly embellished the disaster itself. But disasters were, by nature, the finest catalyst for rumors. After two months of brewing and spreading, it had become common knowledge across the southern region.

Commoners might lack the means to investigate the truth, but the nobles did not. Through various methods, everyone present had learned at least some details of the incident. Francis II even possessed secret reports from many southern nobles. Yet no matter how detailed a report was, it could never be more accurate or reliable than the firsthand account of someone involved.

As Rebecca's narration grew increasingly fluent, the disaster was gradually pieced together and linked to the Dark Magic Tide of seven hundred years ago. The appearance of a dragon then cast an even more mysterious veil over the entire affair.

Seeing the king and nobles frowning deeply, Gawain sighed softly.

Just moments ago, these people had all been focused on the resurrection of the Founding Grand Duke and whether the Cecil Family intended to demand benefits from the royal house. They had probably completely forgotten that the Cecil Family's primary purpose in coming to the royal capital was to report those monsters. But he could not blame them. Who could have expected Gawain himself to have such a greater presence?

And he had created that presence himself...

"...Most of Cecil Territory has now been reduced to scorched earth. Dragon Flame contains magic, and crops cannot grow for years in places it has burned. My people have no choice but to live under Baron Gruman's protection," Rebecca said, already on her feet. Her fists were clenched, and her earlier fear and nervousness had vanished. "Your Majesty, my lords, Cecil Territory may be small, but this disaster is a warning. The dragon's intentions may be unclear, but the monsters are undeniably a calamity. Those monsters appeared seven hundred years ago as well. They brought about the destruction of the Gondor Empire—my ancestor experienced it all firsthand."

Francis II began speaking quietly with his royal chancellor and the Grand Duke of the North, while the others lowered their heads to discuss the matter as well. Clearly, they had not treated Rebecca's news as empty noise. For that, they should thank the constantly spreading rumors, the confidential letters from the south, and Gawain Cecil's very existence. Without those things, if a fallen noble from the southern countryside had appeared before the king claiming that monsters and a dragon had destroyed her family's territory, she would have received nothing but mockery. Rather than provoking discussion, she might even have been blamed.

But how seriously they would take it, and how much they would do in response, was difficult to say.

After all, this world had known peace for seven hundred years.

"Duke Cecil," the tall, thin man seated several places to Gawain's left spoke. He was Baldwin Franklin, Grand Duke of the West, an elegant gentleman with a scholarly air. "I believe your descendant is being honest about this, but the matter is truly incredible. Forgive my bluntness, but were those monsters truly... the same monsters from the Dark Magic Tide seven hundred years ago?"

"I dealt with them for twenty years, right up until I died. I'd recognize them even if they turned to ash," Gawain said solemnly. "And I fought them again. I can confirm that those monsters were the same things that emerged from the Dark Magic Tide back then. Unfortunately, they rapidly disintegrate after death, leaving no specimens behind. Then that dragon burned the entire territory, so there is no way to send anyone to Cecil Territory to investigate now."

Baldwin Franklin exchanged a glance with Duke Silas Loren, Grand Duke of the East, beside him. Seeing this, Gawain said, "If you believe the Cecil Family deliberately exaggerated the truth to win sympathy and use this opportunity to return to the center of power, then say so plainly."

"No, no, we would never think that," Grand Duke Baldwin said hurriedly. "We merely need to... verify these matters. After all, this concerns the Magic Tide from seven hundred years ago. The gravity of the situation... exceeds what any single human kingdom could handle alone..."

"But they've already come to our doorstep!" Rebecca rose to her feet again, unable to contain herself. "I saw them with my own eyes!"

"Don't rush. Calm down," Gawain said, pressing a hand on Rebecca's shoulder and guiding her back into her seat. Then he turned to Francis II. "I understand that your caution is justified. Entering a state of war comes at a great cost. I also brought some evidence: weapons and equipment our warriors used in the south. Though the monsters' corpses cannot be preserved, equipment inevitably suffers Elemental Power contamination when fighting them. The lingering corrosive aura on these items should provide some reference. I believe that even the most brilliant royal scholars could not find any sample in the real world corresponding to that corrosive aura."

Two powerfully built attendants carried over a large chest. Once it was opened, several battered swords and blades, along with twisted and warped fragments of armor, were laid out before everyone.

They looked as though they had been soaked in strong acid. Their once-smooth metal surfaces were covered in pits and bore a murky discoloration. The metal most severely eroded by Elemental Power had even taken on the texture of rotten wood; a light rub of the hand would crumble away large flakes.

"They are harmless now and can be touched directly, but until half a month ago, this steel was still continually disintegrating on its own," Gawain explained as the king and nobles examined the samples. "If historians over the past seven hundred years have not become completely useless, there should certainly be records of this in the history books."

"There are, there are..." Francis II said, nodding.

"Besides that, we happened to find a Wild Mage's notebook. It mentioned signs of solar Sunspots erupting and a Magic Surge..."

Gawain laid out every piece of intelligence he could provide, but it was clear that the information from the Wild Mage's notebook had not drawn much attention.

To most people present, it was not even as persuasive as the flakes falling from the broken weapons and armor on the table.

"Do you know where that dragon went?" At last, Duchess Victoria Wilde of the north broke the silence. Compared with the monsters, she seemed more concerned with the dragon's destination. "Or can you guess its purpose?"

Gawain shook his head. "That, I do not know."

His seniority did not mean he had seen more than everyone present. Gawain Cecil from seven hundred years ago had never dealt with dragons.

Well, at least not according to his memories.

After seeing those crystals last night, Gawain no longer trusted the memories he had inherited quite so much.

"Actually... three months ago, rumors about a dragon emerged in my territory," the Duchess said slowly, word by word. "Someone claimed to have seen a dragon fly from the cold mountains farther north—but no other witnesses were ever found, and the man spreading the rumor was proven to have been drunk and hallucinating. He had mistaken the wind and snow in the mountains for a dragon."

Gawain immediately asked, "Did that man describe what the dragon looked like?"

"No." The Duchess shook her head. "But after I return, I can continue investigating."

"It must be investigated—not just the dragon, but those monsters as well," Francis II said. "See whether similar creatures have appeared elsewhere in the kingdom, or whether there have been unusual Magic Surges."

Rebecca could not help speaking again. "But investigation alone is not enough. We must prepare for battle as well. Those monsters can appear suddenly, with no warning at all. If we do not prepare in advance, there will be no time to defend ourselves. By the time investigators discover their trail, it will certainly already be too late..."

Duke Silas Loren, who guarded the eastern border, cast Rebecca a somewhat displeased glance. "Are we supposed to place soldiers all over the kingdom on combat readiness, waiting for monsters that may appear at any time—or may not appear at all?"

Rebecca answered instinctively, "That would of course be best..."

"That is impossible. We cannot mobilize soldiers throughout the kingdom over some vague possibility. The local nobles would revolt, and the royal house's credibility would suffer as well," Duke Silas said sternly. He was strong and tall, with the unmistakable bearing of a warrior. "Moreover, we must contend with the threat of the Typhon Empire to the east. That country is a wolf that has been waiting to tear a piece of flesh from Ansu for far longer than a day or two."

After the remnants of the Gondor Empire fled in four directions following the destruction of their homeland, they eventually established new nations in the east, west, south, and north of the continent. The Typhon Empire was the nation in the east, and by now it had become the strongest of the four.

The human nations of the north, south, and west coexisted with the kingdoms or races that had originally inhabited those regions. Only Typhon had become the sole nation in the east of the continent, and its strength and manner of conduct could easily be imagined.

Ansu and Typhon bordered one another, and their frontier contained vast fertile lands and rich mineral deposits. They were practically born to clash.

During the first few centuries, the human nations descended from the same roots could still remember their kinship and maintain peace. But lasting peace had never been realistic. One hundred years ago, Ansu fell into civil strife, and the Typhon Empire took the opportunity to make a few "adjustments" along the border. Relations between the two nations then deteriorated rapidly, and by now they could be said to have known scarcely a day of peace.

There had been no major direct war, but minor clashes had never ceased.

Given the Ansu Kingdom's current circumstances, the south was impoverished and had enjoyed peace for too long; the northern nations had never had any conflict with Ansu; and the Ogre Tribes Nation to the west had always been Ansu's ally. Of the four borders, only the eastern frontier had endured the pressures of war throughout the past century. Thus, the martial Duke Silas Loren would never agree to redirect military power toward guarding against vague monsters. To him, those near-legendary things were far less threatening than the Typhon troops constantly prowling right under his nose.