The Beginning of Ruin (4)
The Tormia delegation arrived at the Zaive Kingdom's royal castle, across the moat of Delta.
"Raise the drawbridge!"
As the gears turned and their grinding echoed through the air, the bridge spanned the moat.
A Lupist who had entered the castle commented, "Well built."
Unlike a naturally evolved fortress, this was a structure laid out according to city planning.
Shirone said, "I heard it took twenty years to change it like this. That's proof of political stability."
The Delta headquarters came into view.
It was modern in style—a flat, rectangular complex from above.
Kashan and Corona had arrived first, but neither showed any particular interest in Tormia.
That, Poni thought to herself, was the reality.
To become a leading nation, you needed a trump card to win the world's consent. The elemental bomb technology was excellent, but other countries had similar weapons.
It boiled down to a simple mix: Kashan to control the demons, Corona backed by the intellect of the Ivory Tower, and Tormia.
Which nation would people want as the leader?
At least it wouldn't be Tormia.
Still, what let Tormia stand up to other states was Yahweh.
Without Shirone, Tormia was only an intermediary nation able to cast a single vote. Poni, too, was in the position of deciding which country to sell that vote to, and at what price—but even when facing the world's kings and superpowers, her chest still tightened with a thrill she couldn't deny.
If Shirone helped, it wasn't impossible. That was why the Lupists had staked so much… but Yahweh's stance would be different.
Shirone didn't mind whether Tormia became the leading nation—the reason she attended the Convocation was the unity of humanity.
Of course, as long as the Tormia kingdom supported Shirone's faith, their alliance wouldn't break.
But would that be enough?
Politics is about wading into filthy water. And Lupists would use any means necessary.
No—Poni couldn't just pass this off.
I'm the same, she thought.
For Poni, who had long been pushed down in the succession order, power was something to overcome. There had been a time when she just wanted to escape. She'd enrolled in the Magic Academy, endured scorn and contempt, even entered beauty contests… she'd been so disgusted with power that she could have accepted being a puppet monarch. But in truth—hadn't she yearned for it more than anyone?
No.
Poni shook her head. It was only a momentary desire. For now, she'd focus on helping Shirone. As a mage, for humanity—
When Shirone first became monarch, the first memory that came to mind had been the faces of the nobles who'd sneered at her. The thought of aiming now for the world's crown—the feverish explosion of pride she had never been able to show openly.
I don't want it to end here.
Something inside her whispered: bind Shirone to Tormia. If Shirone moved only for me… you could get what you wanted.
Poni watched Shirone's profile as she stared ahead, lost in thought.
Amy.
There was nothing Shirone lacked in Amy's presence. If the person at Shirone's side had been Poni instead of Amy, would Shirone have helped? Put Poni before humanity… would she have made Poni the world's ruler?
Heh.
Power was a frightening thing.
Yeah, that's why I can't do it. If it were Amy, she wouldn't have these disgusting thoughts—
At that moment a voice came from beyond Delta's curtain wall.
"Kesia Kingdom! Enter!"
Even Kashan and Corona's stewards turned their heads—enough to reveal the weight of the kingdom.
"Hmm, Kesia. A tricky opponent." Iron still dominated the southern continent, but Kesia had swallowed the seven southern states.
And at its center was Ardino Fermi.
Leading a procession with a gilded carriage at its head, Corona's Rampa leaned toward Chongi and whispered, "Don't lose sight of the Kesia Kingdom. They're the most unpredictable variable in this Convocation."
"They've got the Golden Wheel as their think tank. They swallowed the seven southern states under the Angel banner. Their boss is the drug lord Fermi."
"Ardino Fermi."
Youth and age judged different things.
"Master, I know you're ancient, but isn't this a bit retro? You always say updating your intel is important. Since Yolga died, the Ardino house has been completely eclipsed by Adrias. Fermi's strong, sure, but compared to the extremist Miro—"
"Adrias for depth," Rampa interrupted. "There used to be a saying: Ardino for breadth. Back when the two heroines coexisted. These days mages treat Ardino like pushover material, but have you even seen Yolga? Don't update unless you're sure—don't you know that?"
"But—"
"Yolga's eye for the times transcended human categories. Even if the logs were erased, it's assumed Miro's philosophy was influenced by her. Underestimate Fermi's talents and Corona will be in danger."
Chongi licked his lips. "Who's underestimating him? I plan to do this properly this time."
"Why? Is there a girl you like?" Rampa teased.
Information mages were the backbone of any war but rarely drew attention.
But the Convocation was different. Here he could stand out. In other words… appeal to a woman.
The trainee's thoughts were an open book, and Rampa didn't scold him. Maybe that was all there was to it. What grand reason does one need to live?
Meanwhile, Woorin felt bitter.
So he came after all.
He'd suspected the Apocalypse side might try to check Shirone.
He's not to be taken lightly.
The Golden Wheel's capital, Angel the cure for Emotion Sickness, the information buried in Apocalypse—Fermi was the man who'd handle all those elements in the filthiest way possible. Kesia's cards were dark for a potential leading nation, which made them all the more dangerous.
It'll work, Shirone thought.
Fermi pursued extreme efficiency—he preferred the easiest solution to any problem. And people favored the easy path. At least once, he could flip the balance. That was Kesia's greatest weapon.
Fermi moved toward the Delta headquarters, smiling as countless glances fell on him. "Was I always this famous?"
Beneath his casual manner a rapid analysis of the key players was already forming.
Corona's strong. Looks like they have stars. Kashan centers on martial might… huh?
A man leaned against Woorin's back.
'Gukak, Habitz,' someone muttered.
Their eyes met briefly, but Habitz turned away and yawned. Hrrm.
The gods' frequency spoke. "...An odd fellow," Satan observed dryly, and while that was all he had to say, everyone else sharpened their attention to Fermi's movements.
We can use him.
Those who knew the essence of politics could swallow Fermi's card whole.
They'll line up Tormia, Corona, Kashan. He'll slip in with whichever he thinks is an ally.
Fermi bent close to his king and whispered. With that, Kesia's approach took an unexpected turn.
"What, what?" Heads spun. Though there had been space to wedge in between, he moved to the outer side of Tormia's line.
When the smaller procession took its place, Fermi's gaze darkened.
This is the vital spot, idiots.
The leadership's strategists were bewildered at the move that ignored Kashan and Corona.
Rampa stroked his beard. "Hmm. Not taking the middle is an active show of favor toward Yahweh. It means they don't care about face when it comes to pragmatism. There's logic in that—when you need to build trust, you're the type to accept losses."
If it were merely that trait, it would be fine.
If Ardino's sight alone perceived something, then Kashan and Corona would have erred.
Fermi smiled. "Well, Shirone. You again since yesterday? At this rate we'll get attached."
Shirone replied curtly, "This is an official meeting. Watch your words."
"Haha! So what? We're from the same place—I'm from Tormia too. Poni! Long time no see. How've you been? Let's be casual among ourselves. That's why I came this way."
"Uh? Ah, yes. It has been a long time."
Even knowing it was hypocrisy, Shirone couldn't refuse the hand the core of Kesia offered.
Her eyes narrowed. Cunning bastard.
For now, Fermi paying attention to Tormia wasn't a bad thing.
Poni glanced back at Kesia's king. "Pleased to meet you. From Tormia—" she trailed off, and Shirone went blank as well when they looked at King Manolka.
The king's body was gaunt like a mummy; his face creased with wrinkles, his mouth slack as if dead.
He looked genuinely dead.
Shirone, thinking drugs, flashed a murderous light at Fermi. "Fermi, you bastard…! You brought the king here like a corpse."
"What? Me? Ah—" realization dawned on Fermi as he shook Manolka. "Old man, old man. Wake up. Don't sleep."
"Huh, huh?"
The king trembled and seemed to come to, looking around. "Oh, you've already arrived? Heh heh. Nice to see you young ones. I am King Manolka of Kesia."
Shirone asked, "Are you all right? You don't look well."
"Everyone says that. I'm the type who just can't gain weight. Har har har!" Fermi shrugged. "Who do you think it is? This old man's always been like this. He's seventy-two—still in his prime."
Looks more like one hundred and seventy-two, everyone thought.
"You fool, youth. At this age, what greed do you have? If you want something, tell this young man. Still, Kesia coming to the Convocation—my regrets are settled before I die."
"Why assume you'll die? Soon the world's beauties will be proposing to you, old man."
"Don't live so fiercely, kid. People get worn down by the world, but if you just bash into it you'll only wreck your neck. Do everything in moderation—moderation."
"Yes, yes."
Even overhearing their banter, no one could tell what their relationship really was.
What on earth is this?
Just then, as Shirone lingered in thought, the headquarters doors flew open and music swelled.
"Welcome! Leaders of the world!"
A clean-faced man with a broad jaw stepped out alone, unguarded.
Gis. It was the king of Zaive.
"The eve festival will be held with all twelve nations gathered, but I thought it rude to make you wait, so we prepared this little event."
"A little event?"
As everyone wondered, a woman much taller than Gis emerged from the headquarters.
...Huh?
Satiel, the Archangel of Dispersion.
"Allow me to introduce: the new force that will lead Zaive's future—the Army of Heaven."
The roof of the headquarters flashed, and hundreds of sparks intersected and shot into the sky.
Each flash was an angel, and different conceptual judicial halos spread out simultaneously.
Damn.
Faced with the overwhelming power that made the world seem to tremble, the administrators' faces went pale.
Gis opened his arms. "Welcome to Zaive."