A thirsty wind struck Philos-Treit's cheek. The dust flew up, shaking the formal wear that clung to his body.

　Apparently, the wind is very strong today. It was as if fairies were playing in the wind. With his clerks and guards behind him, Philos-Treit walks through the heraldic camp as if stepping on the ground.

　Perhaps it was his own white eyes, or perhaps it was the attire of a High Priest. Philos-Treit could feel the curious gaze piercing him. It was rude, but he couldn't refuse it. After all, the other party is unusual, and so are we. After all, the Great Saints rarely saw heralds walking around in earnest, and elves were only heard of in folklore. Everything, down to the decorations and ornaments, is different from the values of Philos-Treit, the Great Saints.

　This is what you call a different race, a different culture. Philos-Treit twinkled her white eyes and spectacles with a kind of honest admiration. She had never seen a different culture or even a different race before. Her gaze slips away involuntarily.

　But perhaps that curiosity is just a way to ease the tension lurking in the depths of his gut. My throat swallowed a few times, but the thirst wouldn't go away.

"This is where the negotiations will take place. Master Philos-Treit.

　The guiding soldier made a salute with his arm across his chest and opened the way. There was a large tent in front of us. Perhaps this is where they are. A kind of numbness came over Philos-Treit's toes. An unmistakable feeling of agitation and tension crept into his stomach.

　He took a single, unnoticed breath. And so, with a slight nod to the guiding soldiers, I entered the great tent.

　--there they were, unmistakably. There they were, unmistakably, the witches of the heraldic religion, the great evil, as they called him.

　As I had negotiated in advance, there were three parties, as well as us. The one sitting in the middle is probably the witch Mattia.

　The gleam that covers her large eyes is the unmistakable mad light of faith. It is that of a person sometimes called a saint. In addition, the sophistication of her behavior and gestures often attracts the gaze of others.

　That alone explains why she is worshipped as a saint by the heralds and abhorred as a witch by the great saints.

　The small woman to her left was probably the witch's secretary or something like that. Even in the few words they exchanged in greeting, an unconcealed intelligence was apparent. And the fact that she was allowed to stand in such a negotiation proved that she had the ability to do so.

　Finally, Philos-Treit looked to the right of the witch. He, with a wicked look in his eyes, exchanged words with no attempt to hide his coarseness.

　Great evil, master of vices, traitor, Lugis. His eyes are as sharp as sharpened blades, piercing you. His words are few, but his expression is such that you cannot tell what is going on inside his skull.

　Philos-Treit's shoulders almost cowered. The treacherous behavior he had seen on the battlefield, cutting off soldiers with their helmets. The way he cracked open a man's skull with his horse's hoof. The way he offered his life and then threw it away as if he didn't want it, humiliating them. That, inevitably, is depicted on the back of her eyelids.

　Philos-Treit fought to hold back the hot breath that threatened to escape her lips. The indignation of being overlooked and underestimated threatened to rise in her throat at any moment. But the man himself acted as if he had never met him before, and stared at him curiously. Well, it seems that he had been judged as not worth remembering. I've been made a fool of.

　It is said that Lugis was appointed as a great evil by a hero recognized by the cathedral, and was given the name of Lord of Vices by His Holiness the Pope.

　The only person who was ever given that title and name was the evil dragon Vriligant, whose heart was crushed by the one and only god Altius in the time of myth. It is said that Altius reigned as the only god by chopping off the head of the evil dragon. What kind of person can be compared to that evil dragon?

　In Philos-Treit's heart, there was a slight curiosity, as well as a great deal of caution and resentment. There was also the fear that he might try something at this negotiation.

　But I'm more afraid of not inviting him to these negotiations. It was also rumored that this man was the one who had taken control of the heraldry and was influencing the military. I'm not sure what to make of this. If we are going to take the hand of the heraldry, we should make a sure contract. No matter what happens here, we have to bring back a clear contract and record. Even if it's a witch and an evil dragon.

　However, the negotiations went smoother than ever, as if Philos-Treit dared to dismiss his concerns.

　The witch Mattia and the girl named Largd-Anne presented Philos-Treit with a proposal for an alliance. Rather than the city of Philos kneeling as a subordinate of the heraldic order, they asked for a position as a collaborator. This is a much softer version of the parchment that was sent to him earlier.

　What they are asking for are supplies, accommodation, and information. Perhaps the provision of supplies is meant to eliminate the threat by confiscating our weapons and armor.

　It's a little hard to swallow, but not unacceptable. Philos-Treit's white eyes twisted as he thought of the uncomfortable line he had been presented with. If the demand is too strong, you can cancel the negotiations and encourage the other party to make concessions, but this is unlikely to happen.

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　In the event that you've got a lot of time and energy, you'll be able to take advantage of it. If they continue to march, they might be bitten in the back, but if they retreat without doing anything at all, this city will become a frontline base for the Great Sacred Church after the long cold season.

　Therefore, there is no way for the heraldry to let the city of Philos go. If they accept the terms, they will welcome them as allies, and if they don't, they will surely destroy them even if it means taking damage.

　Philos-Treit's eyes narrowed as he exchanged a few words with the clerk and let his thoughts run through his skull.

　It was not a bad request, to be honest. In addition to the details of the alliance, the fact that the alliance is not with the city of Philos, but with Philos-Treit personally, is particularly important. If this is the case, it was the ruler himself who made the alliance with the heraldry, and even if the heraldry is later swallowed by the Great Saints, if he is punished personally, the situation can be resolved and the city of Philos itself can maintain its autonomy. Of course, it is a slim possibility, but it is not the same as no possibility at all.



　I don't know if it was the witch Mattia or someone else who drew the picture, but it seems that these women are much more intelligent than what we hear about them.

　A few words were exchanged in the great tent, and negotiations were held between the heraldic cult and Philos-Treit. In the event you're not sure what you're looking for, there are a few things you can do. The negotiations themselves are going smoothly, but the thought that he might interfere in some way is also lodged in his mind.

　However, Lugis didn't open his lips and just stared at Philos-Treit's face as if he was staring at him. What could it be? It is true that one's spectacles and the whites of one's eyes may seem unusual and strange, but it is not something that one wants to keep looking at all the time. In fact, many people look away from them out of fear or disgust.

　Philos-Treit's face involuntarily turned towards Lugis when he saw the sharp gaze. As if in response, Mattia and Anne also turned their gaze towards Rougis.

　There was a slight gap. I'm not sure if it's a good idea, but it's a good idea.

I hope you don't mind, but you weren't born with that right eye, were you? If you don't want to answer, you don't have to.

　Lugis says, as if it's really nothing. Philos-Treit could see his own eyebrows raise.