28

The four gathered in the antechamber beside the grand hall were King Wenceslav, a young man, Princess Kirishiya, and a civil official.

“Was that truly wise, Father?”

The one addressing King Wenceslav was the young man who had not spoken a single word during the earlier proceedings.

“Wise in what regard, Haral?”

The young man, Crown Prince Haral, continued.

“It concerns the Ains Domain. Granting permission for negotiations over its patronage—”

“It is fine. Granting permission does not mean the negotiations will succeed.”

At those words, the civil official quietly nodded.

“What are you saying? The Brandy Domain and the Ains Domain share a border. If Lord Brandy proceeds with negotiations that guarantee favorable treatment, there is more than enough chance he will achieve the outcome he desires!”

Haral continued, explaining how things would change if the Brandy Domain and the Ains Domain formed a cooperative relationship.

“The Ains Domain’s magical military power and its lifestyle culture are threats in and of themselves. Until now, they have remained largely closed off from other territories, so internal stability was preserved, but—”

The Brandy family was one of the oldest noble houses in the Santia Kingdom. Historically and culturally, its lands and citizens were well governed. If those were combined with the technology of the Ains Domain, Kansas’s influence within the kingdom could rise to rival even that of King Wenceslav.

“Why are you so optimistic as well, Chancellor Elliott?!”

The portly civil official whom Haral glared at—Chancellor Elliott—opened his mouth.

“Prince Haral, the Ains Domain is exceptional by its very origins. That is precisely why it has pursued closed diplomacy until now.”

From there, Elliott spoke of matters known only to those at the kingdom’s core—the faith surrounding the Ains Domain and the history by which it became an autonomous city.

“So you are saying that even if Lord Brandy negotiates, the Ains Domain’s closed stance will not change? Does he know this?”

“Yes, that should be the case, Prince Haral. That is why the only thing that caught my attention back there was this point. Even Lord Brandy knows that background, so I wondered why he did not use the reward at a timing with greater political effect.”

Even Elliott, who reigned as chancellor of the Santia Kingdom, could not fully grasp Kansas’s behavior. Still, he thought, this outcome spared the kingdom from having to give up land or money, which was a relief.

“If only things truly end in such an optimistic fashion…”

Haral could not dispel his unease.

Kansas’s conduct in the hall, and the look he directed at the sorcerer—those details rang alarm bells for Haral.

“You have grown perceptive, Haral.”

The door to the antechamber opened, and an enchanting woman clad in a vivid red dress—Lizelotte—entered.

“Lady Lizelotte, at least knock before—”

“Silence, Elliott. Wenceslav would allow as much. Would he not?”

Ignoring Elliott’s admonition, Lizelotte lightly swirled the glass in her hand.

With a hint of resignation, Mireine tilted the wine bottle into the glass.

“Lady Lizelotte, I apologize that I could not greet you earlier,”

Haral said, lowering his head slightly.

Lizelotte waved it off with a “Very well,” then drained the wine down her throat.

“Why have you come, Lizelotte? Save your scolding for later. I am not yet prepared to endure hours of nagging.”

At Wenceslav’s half-joking tone, Lizelotte replied,

“What carefree nonsense you speak. Events have begun moving dramatically, you know?”

“What do you mean, Lady Lizelotte?”

“Hm. …Kirishiya, you were close with Kansas’s daughter, were you not?”

Lizelotte addressed Kirishiya, who had not taken part in the conversation until now.

“My greetings to you, Lady Lizelotte. Yes, that is correct. If she passes the entrance examination, I believe Laika and I will become classmates at the Sorcery Academy.”

“Indeed. In that case, Kirishiya, leave this place.”

“Why is that, Lady Lizelotte?”

“I do not permit you to hear what comes next. That is all. Understood?”

Lizelotte drank her wine, brooking no argument.

“…I understand. I shall excuse myself.”

“Mireine, leave the bottle and you may withdraw as well.”

“As you command.”

Mireine and Kirishiya, both looking faintly pleased, left the room, and silence settled in.

“Lizelotte, why did you send my daughter away?”

“Hmph. Hearing this would affect her life at the academy. You do not wish her to enter the world of politics, do you, Wenceslav?”

“…Indeed.”

How this connected to the matter at hand—

Wenceslav merely nodded.

“Now then, I will state the conclusion first. You will be ruling an era of upheaval from this point forward.”

“What are you saying?”

“That Kansas whelp is a truly cunning one. He did not let me speak of Ains.”

“Ains—that was the sorcerer from earlier, was he not? What of him?”

Wenceslav recalled how Kansas had somewhat forcefully interjected his greeting during Lizelotte’s conversation.

“He is Ains. He calls himself Ains Silvetas.”

Lizelotte spoke while swirling the wine and gazing into the shimmering liquid.

“You may not know that name, but you know another reading of it. He is the one called the Demon God—the ‘Sorcerer of Silver Snow,’ and the author of the ‘Original Canon’: Ains Silvertar.”

“Th-that cannot be!!”

Haral cried out.

“I did not wish to speak of it in detail, which is why I kept silent, but the reading ‘Ains Silvertar’ is incorrect. The proper name is Ains Silvetas.”

At that point, Wenceslav sprang to his feet.

“The hated master I sealed within the forest—the Demon God Ains—has manifested.”

The wine in Lizelotte’s glass evaporated on its own, and the glass crumbled away as if it were withered vegetation drained of all life.

“The dawn of magic and sorcery has arrived, and we have entered an age of turmoil. Prepare yourselves. He is a Demon God, for good or ill. They say it is best not to touch a god, but there is nothing more troublesome than a god who has awakened.”

With Lizelotte’s words, in that moment and in that place, one era came to an end.