A night has passed since the Battle of Sarnio, in which the Great Saints and heraldic religions thrust their spears at each other and engaged their fangs. The outcome of that battle is slowly seeping into the surroundings like a ripple.

　The office of the autonomous city of Philos, a room where usually only the ruler Philos-Treit runs the sound of a pen, is busy with people today.

　The autonomous city of Philos used less than 1,000 troops in the Battle of Sarnio, and as a result lost nearly 40% of its soldiers, including those who died in battle and those who deserted. The rest of the soldiers returned to the city under the command of Philos-Treit, but few of them were unharmed. The number of the wounded has yet to be compiled.

　Then, of course, there would be medicines to treat them, food as wartime compensation, securing of relief facilities, expenses for bounties, and other such post-processing. All of these things would fall on Philos' shoulders.

　In addition, the casualties are much higher than expected. The secretary-general was thirsty for more gold to be released from the city vaults as a contingency fund if this continued.

　Like the clerks, the ruler, Philos-Treit, was hard at work scribbling ink on the parchment. She was a little sore from the fall, but not so much that she couldn't move.

　Besides, she has a difficult problem in front of her that she must solve at all costs. For that reason, she can't even think about resting, let alone talk about it.

　--The difficult question is which hand to choose, the Great Saints or the heraldry.

　The fact is that the Great Patriarch, a giant, was defeated by the sword of the heraldry and was forced to retreat.

　This fact upset not only Philos-Treit but also all the people of Philos. A giant that should have never wavered was forced to retreat backward, even if it was only by one step. Such an unthinkable thing happened.

　As a result, the autonomous city of Philos has one choice to make. Will it show reverence to the heraldry or will it only give in to the Great Saints? It would be a terrible choice for Philos.

　At any rate, the fact that the victor of the war is the heraldic religion means that the Sarnio Plain itself has been incorporated into the heraldic power. And the Sarnio Plain is at the throat of the autonomous city of Philos. In other words, this city is now at the mercy of the heraldry.

　If we take the hand of the Great Saints, the heraldry will probably attack and destroy the city in the near future. On the other hand, if we take the heraldry's hand, we will eventually be swallowed up by the Great Saints along with the heraldry. Either way, it will be a bleak future, that's for sure.

　In any case, we should receive a letter from Monstrance in the not-too-distant future. No matter what the letter says, Philos-Treit already understands its intentions. It asks whether you will cooperate with the heraldry and open the gates of the city, or join the Great Saints and turn the city into a coffin.

　Philos-Treit let out a small sigh as he ran his pen. Either way, he thought, everything would not end well.

　There was no doubt that the Civil Assembly, led by Roseau, would refute him, and it was said that some of the citizens had already begun to agitate. The speed of their actions suggests that there are people on the inside of both the Daishonin and the Monstrance sects.

　To be honest, no one knows what is right and what is wrong any more. In the first place, it was originally impossible for the heraldry to cause the Great Sacred Church to bleed. Now that the unthinkable has happened, common sense no longer applies. Everything that could be used to judge right and wrong has been shattered.

　So there is only one thing that can be said clearly. Whichever path you choose, you will surely be hated and despised by your people again.

　Philos-Treit narrowed his eyes and bit his lip lightly. He could feel a pang of fear caressing his skin.

　But that's okay. That's how I've always acted, and that's how I've always tried to control my people, through the power and influence of my rulers. So, what people think of me is a matter of the past.

　What is important is to maintain the autonomy of the city at all costs, no matter where it is given. I know it's a tall order now, but it's the only thing I can't compromise.

　I once took my brothers, sisters, and in-laws into my own hands. And I swore an oath at that time.

　I will make this city a better place than the foolishness that comes with being a lord. I will make the citizens happy.

　That's what I've been trying to do. And I'll do it again now. For that reason, I will not retreat in a place like this.

　The clerk's dull voice struck Philos-Treit's earlobe. I'm not sure if this is a good idea or not.


　In front of the gates of Garouamalia.


　I'm not sure what to make of it. There are hundreds of them at most. But all of them had flames in their eyes, and they were following two figures as if they were controlled soldiers.

　One of the figures wavered.

There's no need for you to go, Vess.

　Vestalinu's voice, which had become much clearer thanks to the loss of dryness in his throat caused by alcohol, pierced the depths of his ears. Vestalynne smiled faintly at the sound of his voice. The wind that caressed her cheeks was strangely gentle.

You don't have to, but you have a reason, sister. Saint Mattia, the heraldry saved my life. Besides, I want to give work to the mercenaries of Belle Fain.

　One of the figures leading the mercenaries was the Steel Princess Vestaline, or so she was called. One of the figures leading the mercenaries was the Steel Princess Vestaline, as she was called. A large, painful scar was visible on her right shoulder. Her body, which had been ripped open at Caria-Bardnick during the Belfain Rebellion, had retained its flesh despite the scar. This was probably due to the efforts of the healers and Vestaline's vitality.

　The scars did not overshadow her majesty. She was once again clad in steel armor, heroically gripping her battle axe, no different from when she was revered as the Steel Princess in Belle Fain.

　The crowd of mercenaries gasped at the sight of her, which made them feel even a certain majesty. The emotions that dwelled there were not those of fear or trepidation, but a mixture of respect and adoration.

　Only one other figure let out a deep sigh at the sight. Vestalinu's sister, the one who had received her father's name, Bruder-Gerua.

　She pursed her lips at Vestalinu's words, but did not recoil. A chewed tobacco wavered in her mouth. Her brown hair, once tucked into her hat, was now pushed out of the hat and caressed by the wind.



　Her plan was that once her sister Vestaline's wounds were healed, she would retire to the countryside and live a life unrelated to warfare. However, it seems that Vestaline's intentions were the exact opposite.

　With the death of the old lord Mordor-Gorn, the mercenary city of Belle Fain is now governed by the heraldic religion. It's a good idea to have a good idea of what you're looking for and what you can do to help.

　However, there is one thing that the heraldry has not been able to control.

　That is the mercenaries that Vestalinu once led. The mercenaries who had torn the reins of Mordor-Gorn could not be so easily incorporated into the heraldry. However, the end of mercenaries who defied the ruler is not so bad. They may cause some damage to the heraldry, but that will be the end of it.

　Vestalinu said that he could not abandon the mercenaries who had followed him to the end. That's why he led the mercenaries and is now a part of the heraldry.

　Bruder is a disciplined man, he thinks. Not just with the mercenaries, but with the heraldry as well.

　Certainly, he is grateful to the heraldic saint for saving Vestalinu's life. But I was told by my employer that the knight who hurt Vestaline in the first place is now a member of the heraldic order.

　The fact that she saved my life is not a reason for me to support the heraldry.

　In fact, there are plenty of people who would be happy to carry you up if you declare yourself a member of the Great Saints. Well, in that case, you'd still be someone's puppet.

　--No, but then you'd be working against your employer.

　Bruder squinted as he held his cigarette between his fingers.

　His employer, Lugis, well, he wasn't even really his employer now, but he didn't know what else to call him, so Bruder called him that. It's embarrassing to call him by his name, isn't it?

　To be honest, I don't have any good feelings about the Great Church, but it's still a big force. It's a natural choice to choose the shoulders of the powerful if you're going to ride.

　Then why did I think such a trivial thing as "I'm going to antagonize my employer now"? Such emotions would have no meaning. Bruder put the cigarette in his mouth again, his expression distorted by his unorganized thoughts.

　Vestalinu urges the silent Bruder to speak, and says.

I'm sure you've got a loved one in the heraldry community. If so, I would like to see her face once more.

　Bruder's cigarette fell from his lips.

　What are you talking about? I don't remember hearing a word of it. Bruder's eyes rolled back in his head as he opened his lips to his sister's words. Vestalinu, seeing this, let out a chuckle and said.

You see, he has been mentioned many times.

　A few moments later, Bruder finally regained his thoughts and wet his lips.

My employer is not like that. He just asked me if I wanted to stay in the country with him.

　It's true that if you cut that part out, it could be taken as if he was talking to his girlfriend, but that's not the case.

　I just thought it would be more fun. It doesn't mean anything more than that. It should.

　Vestalinu nodded slightly at Bruder's words, a sharp smile on his cheeks. It was as if some unfathomable emotion had been etched into her heart.