Chapter 372

Chapter 360

"Why?"

The Pleroma are looking for me? Not just anyone—the leadership?

Mecklenburg said nothing to the words I'd muttered like a soliloquy. Was there anyone who didn't know why my name had come up? Mecklenburg was watching me with eyes unlike his usual self. Gone was the arrogant, leisurely smile he'd cultivated over a lifetime as an elite, gone was the stiffness that crept into his cheeks from inferiority, gone was the tense expression he'd occasionally worn before Nicolaus. He watched me in silence, lips firmly sealed, with a dry sort of compassion.

"......"

The haze in my head cleared instantly because of that expression. His compassion forced me to confront my position as a Pleroma. Even to the frigid gaze that formed involuntarily from layers of fatigue—a coldness misdirected—he showed no particular reaction. An attitude that said he understood, that I had every right to feel that way. I turned my head away. Mecklenburg's voice reached me.

"Even so, you won't be the negotiating party. The Imperial government has no intention of selling you out, either. Since they can't send you alone, I and Her Excellency Albertina Hohenzollern will also participate."

"If I'm not the negotiating party, then?"

"You'll attend as an observer."

"......"

It would be irrational for the Empire to grant every demand the other side made simply because they asked. Right now, the Empire had completed a sufficient cost-benefit analysis and judged it worthwhile to at least bring me in as an observer. Even if they'd demanded Adelbert be brought in, the Empire wouldn't have kicked over the negotiating table over a request of that magnitude. A reckless demand like "hand us a prince" would obviously be a different story. Such basic matters—so obvious they didn't need further thought—wouldn't occupy any more space in my head going forward.

Right, back to the main point. The decision was made, so nothing could be changed, and as was easy to surmise, going to Abraham wouldn't carry much meaning in this situation either. For my part, it was easier to respond when they showed their hand in front of me rather than working behind the scenes. I smiled and shrugged.

"I understand why. To think they'd single me out specifically."

"......"

I deliberately twisted the corner of my mouth and spoke in a light tone, but the bluff didn't land. Mecklenburg was more serious than ever. Since he'd already surmised that Adrian Askanian was connected in some way to the Pleroma rumors about me, the needless concern he was showing me now was surely because of that. I straightened my expression and replied.

"What could possibly go wrong?"

"Right."

Only now did Mecklenburg reply briefly. When a heavy silence followed, he changed the subject.

"...As you'll know from reading the letter I gave you earlier, I was a bit worried when I heard you couldn't hear. How did you manage to converse with me earlier today? And how was the treatment done?"

"There are ways."

"...I knew you wouldn't answer. Then did you spar immediately after finishing treatment?"

"More or less."

"Inside a building?"

Mecklenburg began pressing as if interrogating me. It must have sounded absurd. I decided to leave out a bit of logic.

"Technically, a training hall is also a building, Senior."

"No, you just came out of the Crown Prince's Palace. You sparred in a room?"

"I know it sounds ridiculous, but there are ways to do everything."

"If you know, then say something that makes sense."

"Why are you even curious about this? I just sparred with the Captain as a friend. Stop acting like someone who's never kicked a ball around in a classroom."

"Kicked what in a classroom?!"

CRASH—!

An attack from outside shattered the concealment spell. I dropped low and assumed a defensive posture with my left arm, and the moment Mecklenburg swung his wand, the person standing far away with arms crossed flicked theirs as well. Two spells of different colors collided in midair, boomed, and scattered.

"I'm not sure how long I'm supposed to keep listening."

At the end of the corridor, Leo stood with a rigid expression, his back to the garden and a lake reflecting the dawn stars. He looked at Mecklenburg and offered a faint smile. Mecklenburg quickly adopted his usual gentle expression to greet him in return. Leo dismissed the guards behind him and approached, speaking to me quietly.

"Delphinium?"

"......"

I'd had no idea what he was talking about, but apparently the vase I'd emptied over my face earlier had contained that. Sorry about killing your delphinium, but if you hadn't kept dripping blood to such an excessive degree, I wouldn't have had to wash my face with delphinium water in the first place, would I? Fortunately, Leo turned to Mecklenburg before my gaze could turn icy.

"I hadn't expected to see you here again. You must be tired—what brings you at this late hour?"

"I came to deliver an order."

"That's not the sort of task for Your Excellency Mecklenburg to handle personally, is it?"

"Given the nature of the matter, I thought it best to deliver it in person. Is there something about it that displeases you?"

"Merely humbled. If the matter is weighty, that's cause for concern."

At that, Mecklenburg nodded and pushed the order he'd shown me toward Leo.

"The Pleroma have requested negotiations, and they've demanded that Sir Askanian be present."

***

"Can you hear?"

"Yeah."

I answered Leo's question briefly. We were on the way to the negotiation venue. The 91st Class Representative and Mecklenburg, along with Narce and Leo, had all joined as observers.

Despite Leo's attempts to feed me more blood, after that final chaos, my hearing had continued working for over a day and was still holding now.

'...Drinking as little blood as possible is the right call.'

Given my abilities, I could certainly become stronger than anyone through that medium, but at the very least, there's a personal bottom line that one wants to uphold as a human being. I still didn't know whose blood I'd drunk, but regardless of whose it was, Leo's magic power had lingered vividly in my mouth—so I didn't want to accept any more.

Mecklenburg, wearing a similar outfit to mine but with a navy necktie in the 98th Class colors, glanced back at us and fell into step beside me. He cast Sound Insulation Magic and spoke quietly.

"The truth is, the last official event I mentioned to you wasn't this."

"Then what?"

"Our objective was to scout the location for the next operation. You'd previously raised objections to the Munich-Freising incursion. This time, since we'd revealed our methods to the Pleroma through Munich-Freising, we had to be even more careful in deciding which diocese to enter."

So the command needed my abilities for that. I smiled. Bringing up my abilities to ease the tension—a conversation topic selection befitting him. Mecklenburg, at least for today, wasn't trying to keep his distance from me, wasn't showing displeasure, wasn't letting on any awkwardness. He already knew his character was garbage, and he knew that I knew, and yet he was putting on a mature front and being considerate of my feelings. I wondered if he realized that very awkwardness only proved how difficult this situation was. I nodded and replied.

"What's the point of looking back on it now?"

"True. So, are you going to extend your sick leave and head to Neustrelitz?"

The dry spring wind grazed my face. I could immediately tell this was an attempt to reassure me that nothing would happen today. I smiled and said I'd think about it.

"His Excellency the Chancellor is entering."

The negotiation venue was the audience hall of the Imperial Palace. Seated in the chairs arranged on either side of the room behind the table, we were joined by the Imperial Chancellor, his aides, and ministers and vice ministers from each department. We members of the Imperial Mages' Association rose from our seats to greet them. The Chancellor surveyed the empty seats on the opposing side and remarked with evident displeasure.

"The other party has not yet arrived."

"......"

Having to wait for people who weren't even their equals—he must be displeased. But the notion that they weren't equals was habitual arrogance. The fact that the Empire had agreed to this cult's request for negotiations already meant the scales were nearly balanced, or tilted ever so slightly to one side.

A stark tension hung in the air. This was the day we'd face Pleroma directly. We hadn't descended into their world, nor were we meeting a few captured Pleroma prisoners. They were revealing themselves to the Empire as diplomatic envoys. It meant that those who'd started as a small fringe cult on the periphery had finally risen to a position equal with the Imperial government. It had probably been the case since the start of 1898, but still.

Just then, one of the Foreign Ministry officials entered with a pale face and spoke.

"Your Excellency the Chancellor. The Pleroma diplomatic delegation has arrived in the lobby. They said the security screening took a long time, so they've only now been sent through to the palace."

My eyes met Leo's. I could see the bodies of the officials and mages standing at attention around the table going rigid. The Chancellor answered with a solemn expression.

"Have them enter now."

"I'll relay the message."

How much time passed after that? A stretch of silence continued in which not even the sound of an ant could be heard. In that quiet, even the minutest vibrations in the floor seemed to transmit in full. Then, footsteps were heard from outside the door.

CREEEAK—

"How refreshing."

At the hoarse voice that hardly sounded human, every rigid face in the room turned toward its owner. The voice was enough to startle everyone. A diminutive Old Human elder with neatly swept-back white hair walked in, leading several bishops and their monsignors. A long scar, as if scraped by a blade, ran across one of his eyelids.

"......"

Pleroma as diplomatic envoys—not an adversary to be killed on the spot, but a negotiating partner to speak with on equal terms. Everyone in this room was meeting a Pleroma from the leadership for the first time. The deep wrinkles carved into his face and the skin that had sagged under gravity over time conveyed a transcendent benevolence, yet simultaneously appeared as an expression of severity. Each time the hem of his cassock fluttered, a clear scent of violets wafted from him. Were it not for the cross of unfamiliar shape hanging from his neck, no one would have believed he was Pleroma. As the monsignors pulled out his chair, the elder stood before the table and began to speak in that extraordinary voice, slowly and with authority that overwhelmed all.

"As a member of the proud German Empire, it brings me boundless joy to meet the esteemed officials of the Empire. I am Lilly Lebenro."

His voice pitched and curved at unexpected points, stretching out long, and from that seemed to generate a power that focused the mind. By the time the elder finished speaking, a strange sort of anticipation and tension arose, as if wondering whether he might say just a little more. While everyone remained unable to tear their eyes from him, the Imperial Chancellor rose and shook his hand.

"I am Gertrut Rausch. Please, be seated."

This was a different person from the Chancellor I'd encountered before. After Pentalon, a large number of government officials had been replaced. The elder smiled at the Chancellor and took his seat.

'...Most Pleroma should maintain their youthful appearance.'

As I'd seen during the Corniviano operation, occasionally some took on the form of the elderly, but the majority wore young faces in their twenties or thirties. Was it to maintain gravitas befitting the leadership? If so, it was a success. His entrance alone sent the tension soaring to a suffocating degree. The Chancellor immediately spoke.

"Before we begin, we have not been provided detailed information about your positions and responsibilities. Therefore, we would like an explanation of who His Excellency Lebenro and those beside you are."

"Indeed. This monumental moment in which the Pleroma leadership stands before the Empire has only now arrived, today. It strikes me anew."

The elder who'd introduced himself as Lilly Lebenro laughed, then continued in that distinctive voice.

"Very well. I am the Metropolitan Archbishop of Brandenburg. Seated here is Olaf Spes, Metropolitan Archbishop of Munich-Freising. As for the rest, I shall introduce them in due course should the opportunity arise."

"......"

A metropolitan province was a larger body governing multiple dioceses, and the Metropolitan Archbishop was typically the diocesan bishop of the archdiocese within that province. We had previously killed the archbishop in Brandenburg—that is, the Metropolitan Archbishop of Brandenburg—yet the elder here was now claiming to be the Metropolitan Archbishop. None of us were careless enough to speak rashly in response to such an inscrutable statement. The Chancellor stared at him expressionlessly, and the elder opened his mouth with a face that said he'd expected as much.

"Please don't worry. The late Archbishop of the Brandenburg Archdiocese, who was martyred in the Empire, and I are different people. In our Pleroma, the archbishop does not concurrently serve as Metropolitan Archbishop. Furthermore, as promised in writing beforehand, I have come to this assembly today in Pleroma's name for the negotiations to follow. Any promise made with me will extend beyond the Brandenburg Province and become, in effect, a promise made with Pleroma itself."

He'd quickly read the intent behind the question and answered, pausing once to survey all of us before speaking again.

"We understand that our Pleroma holds no credibility whatsoever from the Empire's perspective and that we will not easily be recognized as a body with negotiating power. Therefore, we feel deep gratitude that today's meeting was so graciously arranged. We can promise, in Pleroma's name, that we will not take the Empire's goodwill lightly and that any compromise reached today will be upheld on the basis of good faith."

Goodwill. He was flattering us, but the reality was different. For an Empire that had missed its window and half-lost control over Pleroma, there was ample incentive to accept their proposal for negotiations. Today's negotiation also signified the Empire's recognition of Pleroma as a stakeholder with sovereignty, and both sides were aware of it. But whether the Empire acknowledged it or not, Pleroma already wielded enormous power and exerted immense influence over the Empire, so refusing negotiations out of that concern would amount to nothing more than stubborn pride—which was why the Empire had agreed to this meeting. It wasn't a decision born of goodwill, despite Pleroma's flattery. Moreover, whether negotiations succeeded or failed, the mere creation of this forum gave the Empire the justification that it had worked for the safety of its subjects and the peace of the Empire, so there was no reason to refuse.

The Chancellor nodded.

"Very well. First, allow me to state our Empire's demands. The Empire desires the complete dissolution of the Pleroma organization and its swift absorption into the Empire."

"Heh heh heh...."

The elder laughed and nodded. He was the only one laughing while no one else was, so the expressions of the ministers on the Imperial side hardened.

If the gap between the negotiating parties' positions was too vast and there was no common ground of interest, negotiations couldn't effectively proceed. Therefore, the general prediction for today was that no meaningful discussion would occur on fundamental issues such as "we want the dissolution of the Pleroma organization." The Chancellor's opening statement was meant to emphasize the Empire's baseline position, not to actually achieve any compromise. The Chancellor maintained a subtle smile and waited for the elder's response. When the elder still hadn't spoken after a long pause, the Chancellor gestured and began.

"If you submit to the Empire now, we will allow you to retain your current positions. You may maintain your assets and honor while contributing to the prosperity of the German people."

"Mm."

Generous terms. It was also a common posture in negotiations—naturally, you couldn't say "the moment your organization dissolves, we'll exterminate you all" during negotiations, no matter how eloquently you dressed it up—so none of us were surprised by this response. No one was naive enough to take those words at face value, and everyone expected that various clauses would be plastered all over that "gracious offer," ultimately working to Pleroma's disadvantage. The elder, after his brief note of appreciation, nodded and spoke.

"We are moved beyond words by the generosity of the Empire and His Excellency the Chancellor. We are well aware of how much hardship our Pleroma has inflicted upon the Empire. Despite that, you have shown the magnanimity to forgive your subjects as fellow members of the same nation. The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ shall be upon the Empire."

"......"

"However, that is tantamount to asking us to betray Christ. For we are, at our core, a religious organization."

A chill ran down my spine. Cold sweat might start flowing any moment. Not because of anything else, but because the atmosphere around us had plunged to frigid. A double strike of heresy—the faces on our side turned stone-rigid. Protestant, Catholic, or otherwise, the majority of those seated here were Christians, so this was nothing short of an outrageous thing to say.

"We are aware that our Brandenburg Archdiocese committed wrongs against the Special Operations Command's precious Imperial mages. Let us acknowledge what must be acknowledged cleanly. This was something our leadership had not been informed of in advance, and it was an inhumane, unilateral decision by the Brandenburg Archdiocese. As Metropolitan Archbishop of the Brandenburg Province, I acknowledge that this was a grievous error and wish to offer my deepest apologies to those directly affected."

The bishop and monsignors seated beside the elder nodded with looks of agreement.

"Furthermore, our Pleroma clearly recognizes that the Empire suffered severe instability due to the Brandenburg Archdiocese's transgressions, and therefore we understand the motive behind the Munich-Freising incursion as well."

Surprise flickered across the faces of several officials standing nearby. Even the Chancellor was watching him with a faintly tensed brow.

Two dioceses wiped out in an instant, and they'd accept it with broad magnanimity?

"......"

With the exception of someone like Ainsidel, most bishops had shown no grief whatsoever over a colleague's death. The last bishop we'd encountered had known that all his colleagues were dead and only two remained, himself included, yet had still been smirking and feeding us lies to buy time. I couldn't speak for the priests or monsignors, but most Pleroma at the bishop level and above were devoid of humanity. So, thinking from their perspective: a diocese too incompetent to withstand the Empire's attacks and falling over was useless, so they weren't sorry to lose it. Was that it?

'Hmm.'

All I could do was laugh. What utter nonsense.

In diplomacy with the enemy, it was standard to scrape together every card available and press the opposition. Whether they were personally glad or indifferent about the death of colleagues they'd always considered incompetent, internal affairs and external affairs had to be clearly separated. Diplomatically, this was an unambiguous loss and infringement, and Pleroma could demand reparations from the Empire. That was the standard expectation. Yet here they were, adopting the unnatural stance of "we understand that, from your perspective, you had every reason to kill us." Unnatural responses always had motives behind them.

'I wonder what the reason is.'

The most rational hypothesis, first of all, was that if Pleroma demanded reparations commensurate with the loss of two dioceses, the Imperial government could likewise demand repayment for the expenditures incurred protecting its subjects from Pleroma's threats, so they'd stepped back. Even so, it was quite remarkable that rather than deftly sidestepping the issue when it came up, they'd proactively relinquished their rights first. Combined with the fact that they'd been the ones to request this meeting from the Empire—it was certain they had a clear picture in mind.

Was it simply that they didn't want more of their dioceses destroyed? To stop us from setting the next target after Munich-Freising? The next fight would be an especially grueling standoff for us. They'd have figured out our methods, they'd unite, and we'd have to build strategy from scratch to face such a Pleroma. Given that the outcome was still undecided and Pleroma arguably held better odds right now, retreating outright was an uncharacteristic decision for Pleroma.

The Chancellor seemed to have decided not to speak rashly. Whenever he heard something that didn't add up, he watched the Pleroma with an expression as stern as a reprimand. The elder, too, watched the Chancellor with gentle eyes. The Munich-Freising Metropolitan Archbishop seated beside the elder spoke.

"Our nation is currently in a precarious position internationally. As members of the Empire, our desire to support the fatherland in whatever way possible remains unchanged. Therefore, our Pleroma will first make this demand: please abolish all penalties and regulations on Pleroma's missionary activities."

While the Chancellor clasped his hands and remained silent, the elder spoke again.

"If you do so, the acts that the Imperial government currently designates by such terrible names as berserking, grave-robbing, and kidnapping will no longer occur, and the next generation of Pleroma will stand on the Empire's soil and become fine mages loyal to the Empire."

"Stand on the Empire's soil and be loyal to the Empire...."

The Chancellor smiled coldly and nodded.

"An interesting statement. Can children raised under Pleroma's indoctrination truly be loyal to the Empire? Can the dead—who sustain their lives by wielding pitch-black magic power and drinking the blood of animals and people—truly become mages responsible for the Empire's security?"

"Does the precedent not already stand behind Your Excellency the Chancellor?"

The elder's words made the Chancellor's smile stiffen.

"......"

I looked at the numerous blue eyes turning toward me. As if to refute head-on the rumor that Pleroma had red eyes, the elder—the Metropolitan Archbishop with his grey-blue eyes—spoke to me with warm eyes.

"You possess eyes even more striking than I had anticipated. No one would dispute Sir Askanian's achievements and abilities in resolving the Pentalon terror and annihilating two archdioceses. Even we Pleroma could not deny his capabilities."

The elder's words, which created inflections at peculiar points, sounded almost mechanical. His head, which had been turned toward me seated behind and to the right of the Chancellor, smoothly returned to face the Imperial Chancellor. Words with barbs flowed from a smiling mouth.

"As you are aware, is the Empire not being thoroughly protected from Pleroma by a single Pleroma? Then what is there to worry about?"