Chapter 527

“The plan is as follows.”

The Crown Prince began to speak.

“We will not reject the Grand Duchy of Baden’s offer of cooperation, but we will keep it to the bare minimum. There is a possibility that the Grand Duchy of Baden may later claim the right to exercise influence over the regions involved.”

As everyone knew, Baden had everything to gain from participating in this operation. From the Kingdom of Bavaria’s perspective, it certainly acknowledged and respected the Baden Army’s capabilities, and their assistance would undoubtedly be valuable and powerful. But even without their involvement, Bavaria judged that there would be no problem achieving the operation’s ultimate objective. The reasons were self-evident and needed no explanation.

However, if unavoidable casualties or damage to Bavarian lives and property occurred during the operation, Baden could attack Bavaria by claiming, “We offered to cooperate with Bavaria, but they rejected us for the sake of their own supremacy, and therefore Bavaria failed to fulfill its responsibilities.”

There was no reason to expect Baden to make such an argument out of any concern for ethics. Like every other state, the Grand Duchy of Baden would use every means available to advance its own interests, and other states would do the same. Therefore, the Kingdom of Bavaria had a duty to prepare for every foreseeable attack. There was no room for sentiment in this strategy.

At this very moment, Bavaria was trying to break the dual hegemony of Prussia and Bavaria within the German Empire. It was only natural to expect every smaller state to start eyeing Bavaria’s position. Anyone who failed to anticipate that had no business serving as a military strategist.

From Baden’s perspective, refusing to participate in a plan that could become the starting point for a new balance of power would be foolish. They would certainly offer to send their troops. But suppose, for example, that Bavaria entrusted the handling of the Speyer region to the Grand Duchy of Baden. Anyone with even a little political sense could predict that, after the operation succeeded, Baden would interfere in Speyer’s internal affairs.

“Therefore, rather than assigning the Baden reinforcements to a single region, we will divide them into teams and partner units and distribute them throughout Bavaria.”

As an aside, the logic of the officers who argue that the Catacombs should be incorporated into the Bavarian Army to prevent them from gaining too much power is fundamentally no different from this. The Crown Prince, on the other hand, believed that the Catacombs, made up of people from across the German Federation and possessing their own environment and technology, deserved to be given a certain degree of power. That was why he truly intended to use the Trachenberg Plan.

However, separate from restoring the rights they ought to have possessed, there was another matter of power theory to consider. He had already concluded that caution was necessary because he could not know what might happen if the Catacombs gained transnational military power, depending on the disposition of whoever led them. Restoring rights and granting power were two different things. He knew that human beings were made up of an infinite number of facets, and that the same was true of groups.

What he guarded against was not Prussia, but the cycle of injustice. And what he ultimately sought was not to secure the Catacombs’ own hegemonic rule, but to protect the right of human beings to remain human. Anyone who failed to recognize this distinction, or confused the two, might become a politician, but they would never escape the worst consequences. Even if they could stir up the masses, they would only bring about another age of injustice.

It remained to be seen what Chairman Dracher was truly like, but if Chairman Janina Schweitzer, who appeared similar in temperament to Simone Eberhardt, were to lead the Catacombs alone, they would need more time to determine whether she was a suitable ally. This conclusion came precisely because he considered the Catacombs a good partner.

The Catacombs were an impressive power in their own right, possessing a sophisticated government and military strength. Bavaria would have to move forward with empathy and a sense of responsibility toward its fellow powers, while refraining from taking pity on them carelessly. Protecting their dignity, as it always had been, was also a matter of protecting the dignity of Leonard Wittelsbach and Bavaria.

An officer seated at the end of the table spoke.

“I strongly agree with Your Highness’s opinion, but it may reduce the Baden Army’s operational mobility.”

It was a perfunctory objection. Operational mobility was a valid concern when considering the multinational armies composed of infantry, cavalry, and artillery from before Ion Forso, when coordination had been far more important. But in the operations of combat mages, whose bodies themselves were weapons, fighting independently was commonplace. Of course, each engagement still needed to function as part of a larger whole, but large-scale coordination had lost much of its significance compared to non-mage armies. Even when coordination was required, as with the 101st Unit, team-based coordination involving no more than seven people and carrying out the captain’s orders was sufficient.

Therefore, Leonard Wittelsbach had not meant to hinder Baden’s operations. He had simply said what needed to be said to maintain a proper distance between them. The Crown Prince looked at his subordinate’s face, recognized his loyalty to Bavaria, and answered.

“From the moment we choose to incorporate the Catacombs as an allied force rather than into the Bavarian Army, some inefficiency from dispersing them becomes unavoidable. Furthermore…”

The Crown Prince took in each of his loyal subjects, one by one, holding their faces in his gaze. The generals met his eyes. Deep trust and loyalty passed between them. As steady as ever, the Crown Prince spoke without expression.

“Bavarian internal affairs will always be resolved by Bavaria.”

Silence fell.

Leonard felt the atmosphere change after his declaration. He stood firm and pressed on.

“We joined forces with the Baden Army during the Pentathlon because it was an international matter. It was an effort to strengthen cooperation and partnership in the south. The situation today is different from what it was then.

“There is no place for a foreign army to interfere in the internal affairs of the Kingdom today. Accepting Baden’s offer of support is an expression of our profound respect for the Grand Duchy of Baden, a great power with which we share a partnership. It has no meaning beyond that, and I will not permit anyone to assign it any other meaning at their discretion.”

“We shall obey, Your Highness.”

Unwavering resolve spread across the generals’ faces.

It was not exactly an equal exchange, given that Baden stood to gain more from it, but it was still mutually beneficial. Politically, it was Bavaria extending its goodwill to the Grand Duchy of Baden, which had stood alongside it during the period of shifting hegemony.

The Grand Duchy of Baden could use this goodwill as a foothold to challenge Bavaria’s position, but the Kingdom of Bavaria would never permit the southern German states it had helped foster to overstep their bounds. This was no different from what King Hildegard of Bavaria was doing with Grand Duke Wilhelmina of Baden.

Hildegard Wittelsbach knew that Leonard Wittelsbach was his loyal vassal and representative. That was why he had entrusted him with full authority over the negotiations with the Catacombs. Leonard Wittelsbach spoke according to his own judgment, but at the same time, these were the affairs of Hildegard’s reign, and these were his wishes.

The Crown Prince summed up the situation simply.

“Baden forces will not be permitted to conduct joint operations above the team level. In other words, any special operation requiring joint action will be carried out solely by the Bavarian Army.”

Satisfaction appeared on the officers’ faces.

They likely wanted the same firmness as King Hildegard, who worked closely with the Grand Duchy of Baden as a partner in southern Germany while keeping a tight rein on the expansion of Wilhelmina’s influence. Leonard Wittelsbach had no intention of straying from that course, whether as Crown Prince or after ascending the throne.

Yet Julia Zähringen, the future Grand Duke, would likely use his characteristic ambition and abilities to build a state even more powerful and prosperous than Wilhelmina’s.

“Additionally, in areas where members of the Catacombs allied-force leadership are deployed, we must make sure that Baden’s military leadership does not overlap with them. In all operational discussions, we will prioritize properly reflecting the wishes of our ally, the Catacombs, before those of Baden.”

If their leaders placed ethics above all else, the Catacombs would never join hands with Baden. But if their leaders placed other things above ethics, the Catacombs could join forces with another power at any time and bring Bavaria down.

First, this could not be allowed because Leonard Wittelsbach was in line to become Bavaria’s ruler. Just as he was committed to protecting the dignity of humanity as a whole, he also had to protect his people and his country.

Second, it could not be allowed in order to prevent a cycle of injustice. Whatever the circumstances, Bavaria had ultimately become the only state in the Empire that had not arrested the Catacombs, and other states knew this as well. But if the only state that had refused to comply with the Constitution on the basis of universal rights were instead attacked by the very group that had suffered from it, with everyone watching, then no state would be able to move toward what was right in the future. The erosion of ethics begins with the pursuit of short-sighted interests and betrayal.

Third, he remained wary for the sake of the Catacombs’ dignity. The Catacombs were not a movement made up of people with a single unified will, nor were they obligated to become absolute moral arbiters simply because they were victims. Yet the second problem could ultimately lead them to undermine the very values they had sought to protect. As the case of Simone Eberhardt had already shown, some leaders could pursue excessive personal gain and their own sense of justice, ultimately bringing the dignity of the entire group crashing down. That was why he was wary of how this endless web of possible futures might unfold.

Leonard Wittelsbach hoped the Catacombs would find a good balance between dignity, ethics, and private interests, and believed they could do so on their own, regardless of Bavaria. He wanted to see with his own eyes the day they reclaimed the rights they should have had all along.

Therefore, Leonard Wittelsbach would not allow other states to seize the initiative. He would never allow an era in which Prussia took the lead and the logic of iron and blood prevailed—not at least for as long as he remained there with his eyes wide open. He wanted a Germania of humanity and moderation.

When it was time to resume, his adjutant dismantled the security magic and barrier that had been separating the table. Chairman Antje Dracher spoke.

“We in the Catacombs consider the Kingdom of Bavaria’s proposal deeply meaningful.”

The atmosphere was much calmer than before. The Crown Prince answered in kind.

“Thank you. It is a meaningful beginning for us as well.”

“Now, we would like to discuss this with the chair of the Catacombs Defense Committee.”

“Please, proceed as you see fit.”

Chairman Antje Dracher answered with a dignified smile. Maintaining her gentle expression, she spoke with quiet weight.

“First, please tell us what position you can promise us.”

“The negotiations between the Kingdom of Bavaria and the Catacombs have just concluded, Your Excellency Ernst.”

I rubbed the corner of my eye as I accepted the letter. While I had been gathering information in the Extra Chapter, my secretary had been compiling everything he learned and reporting it to me. He had continued doing so even now, after my audience with His Majesty the King and my busy rounds through the various Wittelsbach estates. He briefly summarized the situation for me.

“Both sides ended on a positive note and have reached an agreement to establish an allied force. As for the rest, they said the date of the full-scale field strategy meeting would be decided according to Your Excellency Ernst’s judgment.”

“We can begin immediately. I have gathered everyone we need.”

“I will relay that. Also, a letter has arrived from the Grand Duchy of Baden.”

I silently accepted the letter and unfolded it. Then I laid it beside the letter sent by Leo’s adjutant and considered them both.

First, I had received the Catacombs’ intelligence report. It contained a lengthy explanation of whether a woman named Janina Schweitzer was someone we needed to watch closely.

According to internal testimony, she was an extremist with tendencies similar to Simone Eberhardt. Unlike Chairman Simone Eberhardt, who had entered into the alliance unilaterally, however, Schweitzer was highly receptive to opinions within the leadership and was believed to coordinate her views closely with Chairman Antje Dracher. It appeared that the Catacombs had added a representative of the radicals to balance the moderate Chairman Antje Dracher, and according to internal testimony, this seemed to have somewhat restrained the extreme individual actions of radicals within the Catacombs…

Janina Schweitzer would not participate in the fighting. Even though the Catacombs were willing to cooperate technologically, they had no intention of allowing any losses beyond that.

Still, if someone like her was in a leadership position, the Kingdom of Bavaria needed to be cautious.

In particular, the Crown Prince and the generals had now decided to place an alliance with the Grand Duchy of Baden behind other priorities, and they had settled on excluding Baden from strategic planning. That was only natural. If Baden troops were brought into Bavaria’s own operation to eliminate Pleroma in Bavaria under the guise of an allied force, would that not amount to granting Baden permission to contribute to Bavaria? There was a strong possibility that this could be used as an opportunity to interfere in Bavaria’s internal affairs. The Grand Duchy of Baden was a powerful state, but it had no right to do so.

And it did not stop there. An order from the Kingdom’s military had been delivered to me, instructing us to formulate the strategy so that the leadership of the Catacombs and the Baden forces would not come into contact with each other.

The meaning was clear enough. The royal family intended to nip in the bud any chance of Baden and the Catacombs joining hands.

It also meant that there was a slight risk factor on both sides: Baden itself as a state, and Janina Schweitzer, who bore certain similarities to Simone Eberhardt.

Leonard Wittelsbach’s decision to bring Julia Zähringen into the Crown Prince’s Palace meeting was entirely for the sake of Elias Hohenzollern. It was Leonard’s strategy to disguise Elias’s participation as nothing more than the involvement of fellow members of the 101st Unit of the Imperial Mage Association, thereby helping him avoid a charge of treason. If Julia Zähringen had not participated, he would have considered bringing in Ulrike Kleist instead. As I had thought before, I did see some difficulties in bringing Ulrike into this without the backing of a ruling house, but if necessary, I was prepared to consider bringing him in as well.

Julia Zähringen had also seen through his strategy and participated in the meeting. But he was there alongside his fellow members of the Association—that did not mean Baden had been given permission to participate.

Baden’s attempt to bring its own troops in to help was because this operation presented an opportunity to establish itself as a first-rank participant in the German Federation under Bavarian leadership by earning credit for the operation. In other words, Baden considered Bavaria’s chances of victory extremely high. If Bavaria succeeded, it would raise and solidify the Grand Duchy of Baden’s standing during these turbulent times. From Baden’s perspective, this was something it needed to have its name attached to.

It wasn’t difficult. Separating the Baden military leadership from the Catacombs leadership so that their areas of operation did not overlap, while making sure the roles did not get reversed—and at the same time devising a plan that would secure the greatest possible victory.

So I needed to head to the meeting hall where the Crown Prince and the Catacombs leadership had gathered. If we wanted to begin the operation at six this evening, we had to draw up the plan as quickly as possible.

I gathered the materials and maps I had written down after leaving the Extra Chapter and quickened my pace.

As I cast cognitive distortion magic and transformation magic and was making my way down toward the underground level of Nymphenburg Palace, I suddenly heard a whistle and turned my head.

I came face-to-face with a familiar face and held my breath.

Speak of the devil. Though, of course, I hadn’t actually mentioned him. Either way, this was not a good time to run into him.

Zähringen stood leaning against the wall on the first floor, arms folded, dressed in Baden formal attire. He smiled at me and spoke.

“Pleased to meet you, Sir Ernst.”

“…….”

This is the first time we’ve met like this, one-on-one, he said.

I said nothing, simply returning his greeting.

“It is an honor to meet you, Your Royal Highness.”

“When do you think the Bavaria–Baden allied-force strategy meeting will be held?”

There was no way I could miss the reason behind those questions. I hadn’t told him anything yet, but he already knew how Bavaria intended to respond to Baden’s offer of military assistance. He continued speaking at his leisure.

“I’m wondering whether I should get some sleep before I go.”

I didn’t answer right away, then asked quietly, “What do you think?”

“I think it would be fine to take it easy until they begin sorting out the Baden troops.”

He seemed to have grasped the situation from just one thing I said. But that wasn’t what I had been asking about. I shook my head.

“No. I mean the operation itself.”

“You’re considerate.”

Zähringen replied with a smile. I had an idea why he might say that, but I couldn’t tell exactly what he meant, so I waited for him to continue. With a soft laugh, Zähringen spoke leisurely, pausing between each word.

“I’m simply glad to be able to serve the Bavarian Royal Family, which has the power to charge toward what is right without hesitation.”

“That’s all?”

“Then what else should there be?”

Zähringen shrugged and stepped away from the wall, coming closer. As though he were reading the expression behind my mask, he spoke with an inscrutable look—at least, one I found difficult to read.

“That’s how politics is. If that were a problem, then we’d all just be siblings bound by mana. How could a family possibly govern different states?”

“Siblings, huh.”

I let out a dry laugh.

He was probably saying that because of the mana-exchange contracts, but the real reason was that he had been born only a few months apart from Leonard Wittelsbach. When members of ruling families are born around the same time, there’s a good chance they are the result of their parents exchanging mana with each other.

That didn’t make them family, though. A person most closely resembles the one who gave them their blood, and genetic information is passed down through blood. Even so, their cores and mana were undoubtedly connected by tiny roots here and there.

I didn’t know which houses had been mixed together to create Lukas Askanien, but roughly half of him must have been made from the mana of earlier generations of the Askanien family that had been passed down within the house, combined with Georg Askanien’s mana, while the other half was likely made by mixing in mana obtained through exchange contracts with Germany and various foreign countries.

Judging by the fact that they had been born in roughly the same years, at least 0.1% of Hohenzollern, Zähringen, and Wittelsbach mana must have entered Lukas’s body at the point when those exchange contracts were fulfilled. The same was true for the other three as well.

Still, even if they were created in the same year, they were not necessarily made with the same components as their peers. Sometimes stored mana was used, or mana was stored for later use after it was received, and this was something determined when the contract was made.

Bavaria and Baden had mostly entered into marriages for the sake of friendship between their ruling houses, so in a sense, it was true that they had been made from the same components. Some of Wilhelmina Zähringen’s mana must have gone into Leonard Wittelsbach’s body, while some of Hildegard Wittelsbach’s mana must have gone into Julia Zähringen’s.

But what mattered most was not what went into them or how much, but what combined with what, in what proportions, to become some third form of mana. In other words, the chemical reaction between mana was what mattered most. If sharing some of the same components was enough to call someone a sibling, then it would be the same as calling humans and chimpanzees family simply because more than 98% of their genes are identical.

There might be some fields in which one could argue that they were family, but obviously, that was nonsense—it would be enough to make the entire field of molecular biology faint. Even individual humans differ from one another by only about 0.3% when their DNA sequences are analyzed. At that rate, shouldn’t we all just call each other siblings?

So Zähringen had been teasing me.

I smiled and turned my head. Zähringen gave me an amused smile and said, “Thank you for the answer. See you this evening.”

I lowered my head in acknowledgment.

Then I went down to the building’s secure warp point. From there, I memorized the warp coordinates of the conference hall where Leo and the Catacombs leadership would be waiting.

My surroundings shifted, and a dim corridor and a massive door appeared before me. I had my identity checked at the door, then stood before it. A sentry opened the door and called out loudly, “Minister without Portfolio Nikolaus Ernst has arrived.”

Inside, I could see the Bavarian Royal officers and the Catacombs leadership seated in their places. I slowly looked around at the familiar faces and the new ones before taking my place, which had been prepared for me.

We were about to begin in earnest.

I opened my mouth.

“From this point on, we will begin the strategy meeting for the anti-Pleroma eradication operation.”