Saint Mattia breathed in lightly, wondering how long it had been since she had lost her sense of smell. She could not smell the dampness of the dead snow, nor the scent of the trees and grass. It was strange that the air was passing through her nostrils, but there was no scent.

　But that was to be expected. Everything else is brought to its knees by one powerful smell.

　That is, the smell of iron. The iron and blood drifting thickly through the air, making the battlefield lose its scent. Mattia's eyes narrowed as she let out a ragged breath.

　She could see the entire battlefield in her eyes.

　The demon soldiers, who had barely held the line until now, were beginning to fall apart. One of them ran away, and someone else ran after it. As a result, they forgot how to keep in step with each other.

　At this point, it was impossible to maintain the appearance of an army. An army is like a body. If its arms and legs move separately, it can no longer function.

　The once majestic hordes of magical beasts were now being torn to pieces by the heraldic and garrulist soldiers. It's a mess.

"...... We won, did we win?　The enemy is retreating. They were so strong.

　As he gagged beside Mattia, Philos-Treit said with wide eyes. Even as he said it, he looked incredulous.

　His cheek was covered with blood. Someone's blood must have splashed on it, but Philos forgot to even wipe it off.

　He tensed up, and his fingers and toes twitched. Philos felt as if his whole body was wondering if he should really bite the victory.

　He was ready to die more times than he could count. There were many times when sharp claws ran in front of his eyes, and many times when his unit almost collapsed.

　That's why I still can't trust Philos. I feel like maybe I'm wrong or something. Mattia stared at the shaking glasses of Philos.

"Yes, we humans have won. The hexenbiests will never recover.

　Mattia blinked slowly and said in a biting tone. She blinked slowly and said in a biting tone. He raised his spear and shouted at the banner of the heraldry.

　But even in the midst of this victory, Mattia had a bitterness on the edge of his cheeks. The frustration and annoyance she could not shake.

　This is undoubtedly a human victory. There's no doubt about it. The hexenbiests will no longer be able to do anything but turn their backs and run for cover.

　--But it's not a heraldic victory.

　When the enemy began to crumble, it was the Garleist generals who were the first to break free. They are now closing in on the city gates with all their might.

　It would take some time, but there was no doubt that the strong gates would eventually open their gates. When that happens, the glorious exploits on the battlefield will be entirely in the grasp of the Garristo.

　For the heraldry to take effective control of King's Landing, it had to enter the city before anyone else. That's no longer an option.

　What should I do? What should I do? Mattia was so frustrated that he didn't even notice that his throat was rumbling.

　The way the hexenbiest suddenly collapsed. Clearly it wasn't spontaneous. Something had happened. Something external. Something that forced the hexenbiests to collapse.

　It's got to be the disappearance of the hexenbiests.

　Mattia could think of only one person who could have done that. Your wedded wife, and thus your sword. Only Lugis.

　I don't know how much trouble he's had. I can't imagine what he went through. But he is the only one who has given you victory, Mattia declares.

　And now I'm going to ruin it? Mattia spontaneously grasped the ring on her finger. Her mind was dark as she listened to the lively voices of the soldiers.

　He had to think of something to do. Worst case scenario, he would have to face the Garleist soldiers. Sweat poured down her forehead, and Mattia's lips twisted.

　Philos moved his cheek and took in Mattia's expression and said.

I'm sure you'll be happy to know that I'm not the only one who's had to deal with this.

　Mattia opened his eyelids involuntarily at these words. Without waiting for a response, Philos dropped the leather armor he was wearing and sent several guards around him as messengers.

　Mattia looked at Philos, wondering what was going on. But he didn't want to waste any time, so he threw down the dagger on his hip.

I've learned a few things, too. I used to think that righteousness was all that mattered. I used to think that if I worked for fairness and justice and did everything I could, they would follow me in the end.

　Philos opened her lips to say that she was wrong. She lightly dismounted from her horse and carefully removed each piece of equipment. The only thing she wore now was a small amount of underwear.

　A figure that a nobleman should not be exposed to. Still without a blush on his face, Philos took his pack from the harness and spread out his black clothes. It was her formal attire as a noblewoman.



You mean the one about Roseau. That was an unfortunate combination of events. Philos-Treit.

　Mattia said, trying to calm his mind, even though he understood slightly what Philos was trying to do. After all, Philos' eyes were bleeding and his emotions were running strong.

　No, maybe that's just the way it is.

　The thought of being betrayed and defeated by the people you once protected is a dark thought that accumulates in the depths of your heart no matter what you do. Then, when the time is right, they erupt.

　Philos's glasses tilted as if they were shaking.

"Yes. But the truth I believed in was wrong, and people don't like to be right as much as I thought they did. There's no doubt about it.

　The words were emotionally charged, but still very matter-of-fact. As Mattia dismounted and helped Philos change into his new attire, he felt something unsettling pass through his chest.

　It was not a good feeling. Mattia was beginning to feel a kind of suspicion towards Philos. Could it be that she was in a very dangerous place right now?

　Whether or not he knew about Mattia's feelings, Philos continued to sing.

And he taught me. And he taught me that no matter how fair the truth, no matter how spotless the righteousness, sometimes a drop of ambition will bring you to your knees. Isn't that right, Saint?

　The moment she heard those words. The doubt in Mattia's mind transformed into certainty.

　She. Philos-Treit had clearly shaken off the guiding principle she now held in her heart. From fairness to injustice, from robust justice to chaotic conspiracy.

　No need to ask whose influence it was. He drew out the thoughts that Philos-Treit had let sleep in the depths of his heart.

One can be a scoundrel while smiling. I'm not going to choose any more means to my righteousness. Even if it means poisoning everything I put in my mouth from now on.

　The messenger sent by Philos must have called around. I can see that the noblemen who have finished most of their war work are heading this way. Those who are running around trying to carry Philos up, trying to become the next generation of power.

　But so are they. And now Mattia understands that even he has miscalculated everything. Philos-Treit was not just a girl who shouted for justice and fairness.

　She was a poisonous woman who would drink up evil to the point of melting her bones if necessary. That's her.

　Wearing a black attire and stretching out the blood on her cheek, Philos said.

The king fled, leaving his people behind, and the princess spilled blood on herself to save them. The king fled, leaving his people behind. Not true, but you like that, don't you?

　The last day Philos-Treit took on his assumed name. In a darker voice than she had ever shown before, she said.