Chapter 97

Chapter 97
A look of deep concern was etched on the face of the Colony’s king, Carmaxes III.

The source of his anxiety was standing confidently before him: the Colony’s first Babayaga, Seolrang.

“Well then,”

Carmaxes drew out the syllable unconsciously as he searched for the right words. After a brief pause, he went on,
“You are telling me you wish to go to the conference… in the capacity of an aide?”

“Correct.”

Seolrang gave a swift, confirming nod. Witnessing this, Carmaxes released a weighty breath.

This was the very same Seolrang who had always declared that no force in the world could make her attend such a gathering.

Now she desired to go as an aide? What could possibly have caused this shift?

Naturally, there was no problem with Seolrang joining him as an aide. From Carmaxes’s perspective, it was an exceedingly favorable development.

The conference of the Allied Kingdoms was more than a mere meeting—it was, as ever, a delicate contest of influence among the allied nations. That was exactly why he had contemplated bringing her along initially.

Yet, a single issue remained.

“Did you not previously state you would never attend?”

Carmaxes had heard directly from Seolrang that she would prefer death over participating in such an event.

Because of that, he had already given his word to appoint another as his aide: the Colony’s second Babayaga, Makria.

“I’ve had a change of heart,” Seolrang answered.

“Is it absolutely necessary for you to go?” Carmaxes ventured carefully.

“Yes, it is.”

“You are certain?”

“Without a doubt.”

Her resolute and unwavering tone brooked no argument. Carmaxes felt a sense of helplessness.

To be frank, it was a difficult predicament.

Certainly, having Seolrang accompany him would be far more beneficial for Carmaxes. However, going back on his promise to the second Babayaga, who had already accepted the role of aide, would undoubtedly create friction.

Of course, if he set aside the formal title of “aide,” bringing both Babayagas would be possible. But that would introduce its own set of complications.

In short, serving as an aide at a conference carried a distinct honor.

Makria, the second Babayaga, had likely accepted the role for that very reason. If Seolrang were to come now, even if Makria held the official title, the focus would unavoidably shift to the first Babayaga.

After all, Seolrang was a peerless presence—her power was beyond compare.

In essence, Makria would surely feel offended, her resentment rising to the surface.

“Would you consider attending the next conference instead?”

Carmaxes proposed, feeling a pang of regret for not having settled this earlier.

“Ah.”

The instant he asked—

“I ‘stated’ that I wish to go.”

The cheerful swaying of her tail from moments before disappeared, supplanted by an icy attitude that chilled all who observed her.

“…Very well,” Carmaxes conceded, though with clear reluctance.

He had no other option but to agree.

“Hmph~♬”

Wearing a look of complete satisfaction, as if she had achieved all she desired, Seolrang hummed a light melody as she departed the royal chambers.

Observing her retreating back, Carmaxes massaged his weary eyes.

“Today seems like a good day for some medicinal herbs,” he thought to himself for a moment.

***

At the same time…

“So, you are saying you wish to attend the conference?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“But the Third Sword was already designated to attend the conference—”

“It is my wish to go, Your Majesty.”

“Hmm… the matter is already settled, however.”

“I still wish to go.”

A comparable situation was taking place in Caliban.

“Hmm…?”

King Palmarian IV of Caliban looked genuinely confused as he turned to Deus Macallian and inquired,

“Did you not refuse earlier, stating you were too occupied?”

Echoing the sentiment of a certain desert king, Palmarian IV appeared startled.

“I have found a way to clear my schedule,” Deus Macallian responded offhandedly, as if it were a simple change of mind.

Confronted with Deus’s casual reversal, Palmarian IV fell silent, uncertain how to respond.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to bring Deus. The king was acutely aware that the Allied Kingdoms’ conference, while nominally a diplomatic event, was in reality a platform for subtle but fierce displays of power.

However, Deus had already turned down the aide position, leading Palmarian IV to assign the role to the Third Sword.

For Palmarian IV, Deus’s request now felt inconvenient.

Even as king, he could not simply reverse decisions on a whim. In fact, he understood better than most that the higher one’s rank, the more strictly they must honor their agreements.

A monarch must be a figure of trust for their subordinates.

After a long period of consideration, Palmarian IV finally spoke.

“I am sorry, but I cannot approve your request.”

“What is the reason?”

“Because I have already given my word.”

“To the Third Sword, I assume.”

“Yes.”

As he nodded, continuing his discussion with Deus, Palmarian IV began to faintly perceive the motive behind Deus’s newfound interest in the conference.

“It is because of Count—no, now Marquis Palatio, is it not?”

The news that Marquis Palatio from the Kingdom of Asteria would be attending the conference as an aide must have prompted Deus to come forward.

It was somewhat amusing.

‘To hold someone in such high regard…’

Palmarian IV was all too aware of the depth of Deus Macallian’s admiration for Marquis Palatio.

How could he not be?

At the regular gatherings of the Five Swords held every few months, the moment the topic of “mages” arose, Deus would invariably launch into praises for Marquis Palatio.

On one occasion, the newly appointed Fourth Sword had grown so weary of Deus’s repeated stories about the Marquis that they made a scornful remark about him. This resulted in a duel where the Fourth Sword was nearly beaten to death.

Thus, anyone familiar with Deus Macallian knew of his veneration for Marquis Palatio. It was also commonly said that one should never even speak the word “mage” around Deus.

King Palmarian, while somewhat concerned about how Deus might react if pressured, was taken aback when Deus simply acknowledged his decision and withdrew.

“I see.”

Palmarian could not hide his astonished expression.

He had expected Deus to employ… some method—or perhaps any tactic—to secure the aide position.

Instead, Deus offered a polite bow and said,

“Since the arrangement is already finalized, it would be disrespectful for me to press the matter.”

“I appreciate your understanding.”

“It is no trouble, Your Majesty.”

Deus courteously took his leave and exited the room, leaving Palmarian IV momentarily stunned.

But precisely one day later, Palmarian received a request for an audience from the Third Sword, who was slated to be his conference aide.

***

“I greet the sovereign of Caliban and the commander of its Five Great Swords.”

“Yes, what is your business?”

“Please forgive my boldness, Your Majesty, but might I be permitted to withdraw from the role of aide?”

“…So suddenly?”

“Yes.”

“What is the cause?”

“Well… I feel my sword is not yet honed enough to adequately serve Your Majesty.”

Hearing this, Palmarian IV was struck by a sudden insight, remembering the events of the day before.

-I cannot grant your request.

-Why not?

-Because I’ve already made my promise.

-With the Third Sword, I presume.

-Yes.

It did not take him long to deduce what had transpired.

“I understand,” Palmarian said at last.

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

And so, that very day, Caliban’s designated aide for the conference was changed.

***

Three weeks later.

After a mere two weeks of downtime, Alon was once again in Teria, traveling to Tern with Cretinia Siyan for the conference.

During that short break, Alon had come to realize why Cretinia Siyan had selected him as her aide.

“A contest of power, then.”

Remembering what Evan had told him, Alon continued to reflect on the circumstances.

“Of course, whenever individuals with influence gather, minor tests of strength are practically inevitable. Still… why was I picked for this? Or… perhaps I ‘am’ the correct choice?”

From an objective standpoint, Alon’s accomplishments were quite notable, so he could see the logic in his selection.

Naturally, it was all surface-level. In truth, he was an incomplete mage whose minuscule mana core left him drained after just a handful of spells.

‘Well, it works out for both of us in the end.’

Cretinia Siyan would benefit from Alon’s repute, and Alon would acquire the item he could only obtain by entering Tern.

Roughly a week later, they arrived at their destination.

‘Oh my…’

In the distance stood an enormous castle, constructed exclusively for the royal families of the Allied Kingdoms to use as a meeting place. Alon gazed in silent admiration at the sight.

Situated in the heart of a vast plain, the outer castle possessed a distinct appeal, and its exterior was undeniably majestic.

Although it looked more like a fortress of iron and blood than a meeting hall, it was nonetheless striking.

Before long, Alon reached the castle.

“The meeting is scheduled for this evening, so feel free to unwind in the banquet hall,” Siyan directed.

“Understood,” Alon replied with a nod and proceeded to the hall.

***

‘It’s surprisingly quiet in here.’

Upon entering the banquet hall, Alon scanned the tranquil interior, briefly considering the lack of activity.

Shrugging, he started to sample the variety of pastries set out before him.

Ideally, he would have preferred to start moving and secure the item he sought. Unfortunately, due to its nature, the item was only accessible at night.

‘This is tasty.’

As he enjoyed the sweet flavor of an egg tart, savoring each bite, a voice addressed him.

“Pardon me, might you be Marquis Palatio?”

“?”

Turning towards the voice, Alon saw a man standing nearby.

He had vivid red hair, a cross-shaped earring on one ear, and a sword at his hip—the very picture of a handsome figure.

“Yes, that is me. And you are?”

“Ah, it truly is you! It is an honor to make your acquaintance!”

The man smiled brightly and introduced himself.

“I am Filian, the first son of the Ducal House of Merkilian in the Kingdom of Ashtalon.”

‘Filian? The Swordmaster of Ashtalon?’

“Oh? You know of me? It is an honor to be known by someone of your stature. It appears I have built some reputation for myself!” Filian said with a hearty laugh.

Watching the vibrant man, Alon thought, ‘Well, it’s not so much that you’re famous; I was already aware of you.’

Alon was acquainted with him—Filian Merkilian, the youngest Swordmaster in the Kingdom of Ashtalon and a character who would later become an ally to the player in *Psychedelia.*

“You are quite well-known. The youngest Swordmaster in your kingdom, after all.”

“I thank you for the compliment. However—”

As evidenced, Filian’s personality was as buoyant and direct as it seemed. True to his role as a companion in the game, he was without guile and refreshingly easy to be around.

However, he had one flaw.

“You appear… less powerful than I had imagined, Marquis.”

The character’s design plainly indicated that all his talent and concentration were dedicated to swordsmanship. Consequently, his social graces and tact were almost entirely absent.

“This is odd. You should be far stronger than this,” Filian stated, his words frank and unvarnished, mirroring the thought evident on his face.

To make matters worse, he also possessed a notably competitive nature.

‘Hmph.’

Alon, however, fully recognized that Filian meant no harm.

Filian Merkilian was not the type of person to deride or belittle others.

‘Whether he is incapable of malice or simply not sharp enough to conceive of it, who can say.’

Regardless, the genuineness in his voice made it clear there was no ill will. Alon briefly considered how to answer such innocent bluntness when—

“What was that you just said?”

“Huh?”

A voice from behind startled them both, causing Alon to instinctively turn around.

“?”

The sight that met his eyes made them widen in shock.

‘Seolrang… and Deus?’

There they were, Seolrang and Deus, both radiating fury. Their faces left no doubt about their feelings, and they were staring directly at Filian.