Accompanying Jeanne's bizarre navigation throughout the journey, the three of them endured various tribulations. Fortunately, they managed to reach their destination successfully, keeping their identities hidden as planned.
However, the path Jeanne had pointed out was truly strange; in some places, it could hardly be called a normal road, involving leaps across the rooftops of house after house.
"It's a good thing Lemuen's driving skills are legendary, otherwise we might have been listed in the 'Ursus Yearly Bizarre Behavior' records under the title: Three Young Girls Commit Double Suicide via Rooftop Drag Racing," Talulah remarked, wiping cold sweat from her forehead as she stepped out of the vehicle.
If anyone else had come up to her suggesting such a route, her first thought would definitely be that they were trying to kill her. Only a ruthless person—the kind brave enough to saw a lightbulb or weld a detonator—would dare to drive on such a path. An average person would have passed out in the car within twenty minutes.
"Well, we arrived safely, didn't we? Let's not obsess over the details. Besides, your mood seems stable now; back in the car, you were like a startled cat," Jeanne said, stretching her arms.
Between being wrapped up by Talulah's tail and holding her hand to comfort her for so long, Jeanne's bones felt a bit stiff. Fortunately, the journey had restored the Dragon's spirits quite well; the fact that Talulah had the energy to complain proved she was back to normal.
As Jeanne leaned her waist back, her bones let out a series of audible cracks. Talulah's attention, however, was drawn to Jeanne's prominent "frontal armor." She couldn't help but feel a flicker of envy.
How does she grow like that? We clearly eat from the same pot, so why does it feel like all the nutrition Jeanne eats goes straight to those specific spots? Though Talulah considered herself to have a good figure, there was no harm without comparison.
"Get inside, get inside! Say whatever you want once we're in! Aren't you worried about the reporters now that we're here? If they snap a photo of you, you'll be famous by tomorrow," Lemuen urged from the side.
Though they were at a secret passage unknown to others, they couldn't claim to be entirely undetectable. These two, who were so worried about being photographed just moments ago, were now loitering at the entrance. Can't you two just talk once we're inside?
Hearing Lemuen's urging, Jeanne and Talulah quickened their pace and entered the building. The first thing they saw upon entering through the secret passage was the traditional Ursus noble decor of the structure.
"I suspect this was once the manor of a noble family with many generations of heritage. This kind of decor is something you'd only find in the homes of old-money Ursus nobility. No wonder Boris chose this place."
Since the three of them had entered through a back door, this area wasn't renovated like the front hall used for receiving reporters. They could still see traces left behind by the nobles who once lived here along the corridors.
Thanks to being raised by that thousand-year-old monster Kashchey, Talulah knew more about this archaic style of decoration than Jeanne and Lemuen combined.
"According to the briefing, this was actually the residence of the previous Mayor. However, it's said he ran into the 'Great Rebellion' during his term, and the house fell into the hands of his subordinates..." Lemuen added. She had some knowledge of the place because Laterano had informed her of its history after investigating. After all, as an attendant to the Saintess, she was provided with such intelligence so Jeanne would always have someone nearby who knew the necessary facts.
"I really don't know what Boris was thinking, using the house of a political rival he overthrew as a meeting venue. Isn't he worried the Emperor might suddenly get curious and investigate the matter?" Jeanne found Boris's choice peculiar. Wouldn't it be better to hold it at his own home? Why bring the events of those years back into the spotlight?
What Jeanne didn't know was that Mayor Boris himself found the order from his superiors strange, even feeling a hint of dread. He didn't have the authority to decide a meeting venue of this level; he could only offer suggestions. Yet, the Ursus officials had directly specified this location.
He hadn't forgotten that the owner of this manor was once among the Emperor's most loyal supporters—a vital political rival that the War Faction he belonged to had used a coup to topple.
Now the Emperor is using this house for the meeting... what does this mean? Is the Emperor starting to gradually purge the nobles who opposed him?
With these thoughts weighing on him, Boris followed the councilmen with a stiff smile to welcome the Laterano Bishops. He glanced at Ivan, who looked unremarkable in the crowd. As long as Ivan stands with me, even the Emperor can't do much to take me down.
He had no idea that in a corner he wasn't even aware of, his "ally"—the one he believed would never betray him—had already sold him out for a very good price.
Meanwhile, in the distant capital of Deity Grypherburg in Ursus, Fyodor was seriously preparing for the upcoming meeting.
He had actually put on a formal suit usually reserved only for the most important occasions. He stood like a sharp blade about to be unsheathed, ready to head to his battlefield. Even though he wouldn't actually see the faces of Jeanne and Talulah during the remote meeting, as the Emperor, he had made full preparations. It was clear how much importance he placed on them.
"Your Majesty, the official Laterano Bishops are arriving at the venue. The meeting location is indeed the former residence of Erikov, as you selected."
The voice of Councilman Witte came through the communicator. Even though the distance between the capital and Chernobog was vast, Fyodor was remotely controlling this negotiation.
"I understand. You are in full charge of the remaining reception duties. I will be here, waiting for the good news you bring me."
After saying this, Fyodor turned away, his memories drifting back many years. At that time, he had not been on the throne long when the struggle between the new and old nobility broke out—the event known as the Great Rebellion.
Although Fyodor personally leaned toward the rising new nobility, the previous Mayor of Chernobog had been his most loyal follower. The War Faction, however, had used that opportunity to eliminate their enemies. To this day, that noble—whose very family no longer existed—had never received the posthumous exoneration he deserved. This was a debt Fyodor held in his heart. Therefore, even though there were better choices for a venue, he had insisted on his former residence.
Fyodor simply wanted to welcome the opportunity to change Ursus right here, and by doing so, tell those subjects who died for supporting him:
"The opportunity to change everything is about to be revealed before you. I... have never forgotten your sacrifice."