241 Article 240 "The Right and the Wrong"




 The ruler of the autonomous city of Philos, Philos-Treit, was unknowingly biting the inside of his lip in his office.

 In the whites of his eyes, he saw a piece of parchment sent from the heraldic order. Seeing that it was stamped with their coat of arms, it was probably not a forgery.

 The contents inscribed on it are not so different from what Philos-Treit had imagined in her mind. In other words, it forces her to make a clear choice.

 --Cooperate with the heraldic religion, or fall with the city.

 You can die here and now, or you can prolong your life a bit and die later. It's the kind of thing that confronts you, Philos thinks. The worst or the worst, whichever you choose, the result will be the same.

 If I take the hand of the heraldry, I will only be out of danger for a while. If the main force of the Daishonin comes to this place, both the city of Philos and the heraldry will be knocked down by a single swing of the giant called the Daishonin.

 It's hard to choose whether or not to siege against the main army of the Great Satanic Church.

 The surrounding areas have already entered the full-scale cold season. In the northern part of the continent, the white mantle may already be visible. Even the Great Sacred Church, which boasts of its enormous power, cannot afford to send a large army into the midst of it. Or rather, they wouldn't. Philos-Treit felt his white eyes harden and his fingertips go slightly numb.

 No matter how you try to spin it, the Great Sacred Church has been defeated by the heraldry. The giants, the dragons, had been frightened away by a mere lizard called the heraldry.

 Once, it can be dismissed as an accidental bias. But if it happens twice, it's fate.

 The next defeat is inevitable for the Daishonin. I'm sure that the people at the top of the Daishonin Church understand this very well. That is why there is no such thing as a large scale deployment at this time.

 They will accumulate enough strength, morale, and hatred for heraldry during the cold season and wait for the snowscape to disperse.

 Then, suddenly, the lifeblood of the city of Philos will begin to fall to the bottom of the earth.

 This is also a city that has been given autonomy. Naturally, it has a certain amount of troops to defend itself from night thieves and bandits. The troops used in the Battle of Sarnio were, at best, the private army of Philos-Treit.

 If the city were to formally use its forces, it would not be unable to fight. It's not that you can't fight if you use your forces as a city. So if we play our cards right, we may be able to gain the upper hand.

 But no matter how well you do, you will not win. I felt something tenacious crawling in the bottom of my guts.

 At any rate, the soldiers knew. The Great Sacred Church army was swallowed by the heraldic army. The presence of that maniacal demon that pierced the army and stamped out the skull. My spine tingles with fear. My tongue feels restless.

 The fact that the Great Patriarch has been defeated is devastating to the morale of the city's soldiers. I'm sure even the excitement of the battlefield can't disguise that.

 How can you fight a war with people who don't have that kind of passion? War is a ritual in which people clash with each other in a frenzied passion. Without the heat, without the will to crush the enemy, there is no way to win.

 And there's another reason you can't fight a war, Philos thought, twitching his chin. His body slowly sank back into the chair in his office. It's time to go.

 There were several knocks on the door. Come in," said Philos in a throwaway voice. I was informed in advance that I would have visitors today. Someone who would take the diplomatic tool of war away from you.

 The clerk's quiet voice sounded. And then he appeared through the door.

"Master Ruler Philos-Treit. It's an honor to meet you.

Thank you. Let's see what you can do for me.

 In the event you're not sure what you're looking for, there are a few things you can do.


 I'm not sure what to say.


 The man called Roseau was not born in a good way, but rather in a lowly way.

 He did not know his father's name, nor did he remember his mother's face. Born from the belly of a lowly prostitute, he did not have a parent-child relationship or even his own name, which is why he did not remember his own name until he was old enough to remember it. When someone called him "Hey," he knew it meant him. Well, if he didn't understand, he would have been hit with a hot iron in the cheek.

 By the time he was able to move his arms and legs, Roseau was working as a servant in a brothel. His main job was to endlessly wash the sheets, which were so dirty that even the lice would come out, or to be beaten by customers in a bad mood. It was a natural part of Roseau's daily life, and he didn't think much of it.

 At that time, Lozeau probably had nothing. He did not have the brains to think for himself, and perhaps he had lost his emotions as well. He just moved when he was called, tortured his own body, and did not move unless he was called to do so. Roseau remembers that he only ate muddy soup and bread that almost chipped his teeth.

 Yes, he had nothing. No money, no status, no blood, no power. God didn't give Roseau that.

 He gave him only one thing, the lesson that it is God's will that he live right.

I know you're a busy man, ruler. And I'm only the voice of the people. I have no mouth to speak with you.

 Roseau says, his tongue rolling and his lips moving smoothly. The tone of his voice had a strange power and weight to it. The voice echoed through the room and shook Philos-Treit's earlobe. Perhaps it was the way he used his voice, but Roseau's words penetrated his mind easily.



 Philos-Treit gave a small nod of his chin as if to encourage Roseau to continue, and turned his gaze from the parchment in front of him back to Roseau.

 His white, emotionless eyes pierce Roseau's. He takes the hard stare into his chest as if he is used to it, and says.

I'm going to help the Great Patriarchate deploy troops. As a result, our self-governing city of Philos has suffered severe damage. The People's Assembly says it can no longer participate in the war.

 Philos-Treit nodded, her lips quivering slightly. You don't have to ask, you know.

 But Roseau was thinking the same thing. I know very well that this ruler will not change his attitude instantly if he hears the opinions of the people. He always has, and he always will.

 That's why there are people like you.

 Roseau blinked his peculiar, cold eyes and opened his lips. As I said, he has no authority to speak to Philos-Treit here and now. His lips would only convey the decision of the council.

"Therefore, the Council will not lance with the heraldry, nor will it cooperate with it, nor will it submit to it.

"You will say no to that. It's obvious.

 Sitting in his office chair, Philos-Treit looked away from Roseau as if he was no longer interested, his eyes boring into the parchment again. The tone of her voice said that she was being ridiculous.

 Roseau is well aware that his words are foolish. I'm not going to cooperate with the heraldry, but I'm not going to go to war either. How can it be so convenient? The city of Philos is clearly hostile to heraldry.

 In fact, if such a convenient thing were possible, this world must be a better place. Wishes come true, salvation is possible, and the hand that is extended is received. It must be such a beautiful world in every way.

 But there is no such world anywhere.

 The current situation of the autonomous city of Philos is a refreshing predicament. No matter which option we take, there's a skull in our path.

 In fact, Roseau was even impressed by this girl, Philos-Treit, who was in a position to choose and still had a strong will in her eyes. In the past, the rulers would have long ago defected to the Garlist Kingdom or swung to the heraldry as soon as possible.

 But this girl still sits in the chair of the ruler, gritting her teeth, trying to bring out the best in the worst.

 Wonderful, a mirror of a ruler, the very righteous one the Great Sage speaks of. I even say hurray for him. I, who am not a righteous person, even want to applaud him.

 Except that such righteousness is of no use to me.

 Roseau took in Philos-Treit's words, smiled good-naturedly, and said.

"This is the consensus of the people. We, the people, hope that the ruler, Philos-Treit, will choose a better path.

 Roseau muttered in his mind that, much to his chagrin, the girl would continue to choose the right path.