Tales of Leo Attiel ~Portrait of the Headless Prince~

Volume 2, Chapter 2: Laying the Groundwork

Part 1

There were two reasons why Leo Attiel had been in such a hurry to visit the nobles and vassal lords.

The first was the one Camus had pinpointed: he had to see the vassal lords before they returned to their own domains.

The second was Hayden.

The visits absolutely had to be finished before the messenger from Allion returned to his own country. During this time, when the situation had yet to become urgent, Leo had wanted to ascertain how the nobles thought and what they would do. Put differently, Leo was convinced that once Hayden returned home, the situation would begin to move in some way.

And Hayden Swift would be leaving the Principality of Atall on the fifth day after the banquet.

Hayden’s chest was filled with dark anger. In and of itself, the return journey should have been something for him to look forward to. Florrie Anglatt should have been sailing on the same air carrier, they should have been relaxing together in the spacious cabin, talking, laughing, and he should have had the chance to hear Florrie sing near him. Instead of which, he was wild and rough as they sailed back: he never parted from his alcohol, and he who was known for his elegance now spent his time shouting indiscriminately at pages and sailors alike.

As soon as they arrived in Allion’s royal capital, he requested an audience with the king. This was to ask him to raise an army to subjugate Atall; during the voyage, Hayden had thought of nothing else. Or better said, whenever he imagined Tiwana engulfed in flames while he personally severed Leo’s head, Hayden felt a seething anger, as hot as those same flames, that almost seemed about to burn him to death.

Unfortunately, however, the king was away from the capital.

Three days earlier, he had apparently headed south with an army in tow, as a insurrection had broken out in a territory that lay in that direction. The king could have let the troop of two thousand deal with it, but once he heard about battle, he was completely unable to resist, and so he had left his throne and departed in person.

That bad habit of his...

Hayden clicked his tongue, which was equally unusual for him. Then again, speaking of unusual, Hayden’s current proactiveness and level of energy were rare for him. Previously, he had been bored and weary of everything, but now, as soon as he heard of the king’s absence, he had his retainers prepare horses, clothes and travel expenses, while he promptly left the capital for the south.

Another five days later, he had reached the place where King Hugh-Jarl of Allion had pitched his pavilion to rest along the way.

– This is a digression, but as a matter of fact, the king’s name was the very embodiment of bad taste. Both ‘Hugh’ and ‘Jarl’ were the names of kings who had ruled over Allion in the past, but Hugh was known as a lecher, said to have impregnated a thousand women, while Jarl’s repeated failures at government and warfare had led to the loss of large swathes of territory, and had earned him the nickname “King Landloss”. In other words, the name was an aggregation of terrible reputations.

“No future king would ever inherit this name, so I’ll claim it for myself,” the current king had declared on the day of his coronation. Even so, less than a few days later, he seemed to change his mind and decided that he no longer liked being called ‘Hugh-Jarl’. Still, it wouldn’t do to change his name immediately, so instead, he insisted on having even those closest to him refer to him simply as ‘Your Majesty’ or ‘King Jamil’.

Hayden hurried to “King Jamil’s” pavilion.

After he had been announced by a sentry, a naked white body came crawling out of the tent. This man, who was lazily stretching his neck and yawning sleepily was King Jamil. He was developing a bit of a paunch, but he was still a young man in his thirties, and his once chiselled body was yet robust.

“I seem to have disturbed you while you were resting, Your Majesty.”

“Oh, who do you think I am, Hayden? You’re having trouble with Atall, huh?” A flustered-looking page draped a gown over the king from behind The king did not appear to pay it any attention. “I’ve already received your report. So why are you here? Have you come to join the hunting? Although I’ve competed with you before on the number of beasts killed, we’ve never yet competed on the number of soldiers slaughtered.”

He laughed as he chewed a rather tough-looking twig of some medicinal plant that had received from the page.

Unfortunately, King Jamil loved the battlefield, and could never get enough of it. Rather than sit quietly on the throne and handle the petitions brought to him, he was always much happier when riding his horse through the fields of war, spear or gun in hand and armour clanging. Ever since he had taken the throne, the kingdom of Allion had constantly been at war.

According to whispered gossip, this was not so much because of a burning ambition for supremacy, but because, he simply loves war, so it’s inevitable.

“No, I have to go to a different ground,” Hayden matched the king’s manner and smiled. Just as he had pictured on the journey back, he asked the king for permission to suppress Atall.

“They have halfway admitted to helping the temple. If we turn a blind eye to this, they’ll grow more and more arrogant, and might start scheming against us with the temple, or even with Shazarn again.”

Hayden fervently preached his piece, but the only thing about it that caught the king’s interest was the ardour which Hayden had been showing recently.

“You look like you’ve changed, Hayden. Haven’t you heard of how evil spirits bring grief when you sleep alone? If a good man isn’t always sleeping with a good woman, wicked spirits will encroach on him. You should get friendly with your wife in bed and pray for protection from benevolent spirits.”

“Y-Your Majesty...”

“I told you I’d received your report. Ignore Atall. They’ve been given enough of a warning.”

The king had always seemed indifferent to the issue of Atall sending reinforcements to the temple. He was currently busy stabilising his territory, which had expanded so rapidly, so, for now, he had his hands full. When he got tired of administering the country from his throne, he would go hunting; when he got tired of hunting, he took part in riding the warhorses to whatever skirmish had occurred in some part of his territory. As far as King Jamil was concerned, the current status quo was nothing but enjoyable, so he did not feel the need to go out of his way to embark on a foreign campaign.

What made it all the more bitter for Hayden was that it confirmed Leo’s words. “There’s no great cause worthy of sending troops to Atall,” he had said.

For all the eloquence he could deploy, Hayden could not march on the principality all on his own. The report that had reached the king contained the facts that a banquet had been held with Hayden featuring as the guest of honour, and that as a messenger, his stay had been a smooth one. There wasn’t a single thing warranting suspicion. At this point in time, there was no reason for the king to take action, and there was certainly no just cause to back it up.

And Hayden certainly couldn’t say that he wanted war 'because Atall’s prince provoked me to my face'.

Hayden bit his lip. He was no fool, however; if it was not possible to raise a new army, then at the very least, he could not afford to lose his current military authority.

“Then I leave the matter of Atall for my king to decide,” he gave a laudable nod then changed the focus of his speech. “However, I heard some disturbing rumours in Atall. There are hints that Dytiann intends to take advantage of the matter of Conscon Temple for their own selfish ends.”

“Dytiann, is it?”

King Jamil rinsed his mouth and gargled with the contents of a wine cup, then spat out the alcohol at his feet. If the fearless king of Allion had one thing he worried about, it was Dytiann. He flatly denied the rumours whispered among his retainers of any ‘Great Eastern Campaign’ – which was speculation that he might soon lead Allion’s army to unify the whole of the eastern part of the continent – but any intervention from Dytiann would be a problem.

As already mentioned, the king was busy with consolidating his power base. If, by any chance, a large army came marching towards them, not even Allion would be able to avoid having to make concessions.

Seeing an opening, Hayden once again launched into a speech to persuade the king. The result was that they came to an agreement that “Conscon Temple must be seized without delay to prevent Dytiann from having an excuse to intervene”.

Hayden then deliberately declared that, “the troops currently at our stronghold are sufficient. Reinforcements are unnecessary.” This way, he underlined the fact that he still held military authority, and easily ensured that he would obtain the king’s authorisation.

As expected, the king nodded and said, “I’ll leave it to you then.”

At which point, Hayden witnessed an eerie sight. The pavilion’s entrance flap split open at the same time as gracefully slender white arms stretched out from it, and mercilessly twined themselves around the king’s neck from behind.

“Argh,” King Jamil pretended to be in distress. “Alas, is the king of Allion, renowned for his valour, to be slain at the hands of a villainous temptress? Hayden, seize thy sword and rescue thine liege.”

“This is what you call ‘getting your just deserts’. Since you are the king of Allion, please get out of this by yourself.”

“Honestly, what a retainer unworthy of affection. Oi, Sausha, knock it off, won’t you? I’m discussing important matters of state right now.”

“Your Majesty, it’s not good to keep a lady waiting this long,” the woman called Sausha placed her dainty chin on the king’s shoulder and cuddled up to him.

The king often brought his favourite mistress to the battlefield. Hayden was disgusted by those of his peers who lecherously prowled around after women, but although he saw this as a bad habit of his friend the king, he was naturally not going to say anything about it right now.

“Well then, Your Majesty, I take leave to retire from your presence.”

“Leaving already? You’re a restless bastard. I don’t care much about the rest, but try to keep Bishop Rogress alive if you can. He did once save Prince Kaseria, after all.” “I understand.”

Even as he answered, Hayden had already started to think about something different.

Part 2

This happened a little before Hayden returned home.

Leo had been visiting a great many nobles and vassal lords, arguing for the establishment of a permanent army... When the rumour reached Sovereign-Prince Magrid, he naturally couldn’t just ignore it, and, one morning, he summoned his son.

Sitting at the dining table, Magrid broached the main topic after the meal was over.

“You’ve turned seventeen, haven’t you? As a prince of the Attiel bloodline, I’m sure you have many thoughts and ideas. But if you want to say something, you should tell it directly to your father. You got the retainers involved for nothing, and might have caused needless concern.”

“I am sorry, Father,” Leo bowed his head obediently. “Although I have my own ideas, I am still inexperienced. I was worried that my own limited ideas would only bother you, Father, so I wanted to discuss them with the vassal lords.”

“And, what did everyone say?” asked Branton, Leo’s older brother, looking deeply interested.

Leo laughed slightly as he shook his head.

“They didn’t think much of me. And because of that, somewhere along the way, my visits to them started to be made mostly out sheer stubbornness.”

“That makes sense,” Magrid nodded with relief.

If the talk had ended there, the occasion would have ended in complete harmony. It was the first time in a long time that all the members of the family, Leo included, ate breakfast together. He could have entertained them with tales of his time in Allion, and they would have passed some time quietly together.

However –

“Then, Father – would you hear what I have to say? Oh no, I won’t take up much of your time. From now until the audience starts is all I need,” Leo dove in determinedly.

For a second, Magrid looked annoyed, but this was after all the child who had been sent away as a hostage for six years. He clearly felt some compassion and sympathy for him, as, in a display of generosity, he said,

“It’s fine, but keep it short.”

Just as he had to the nobles, Leo presented his idea at length to his father. The sovereign-prince’s answer, however, was already obvious; as stated previously, Atall’s current system aimed for the greatest possible financial efficiency. Within the country, the vassal lords held considerable authority, and the majority of the income from each of their domains went straight to them. In other words, there was no surplus in the sovereign-prince’s treasury.

“Then you should tighten the pressure on the vassal lords. Have them pay a percentage of their revenue to the national treasury,” Leo brought out another argument. “Are you not the sovereign-prince and guardian of this country, Father? If His Majesty exercises his authority and gives the order, nobody could oppose it.”

“National affairs are not as simple as you think. The sovereign-prince and the retainers are all equally human. Being the guardian of the country does not give me the right to act as though I were a god.”

“Leo, think about it,” Branton came to his father's aid, “you are, of course, father and child, and you love and respect your father. But what if someone took your favourite toy or book by force and without asking you for permission? Even if that person was your beloved father, wouldn't you fight back and, after it was taken, wouldn't you feel bitter about it?”

The reason behind the somewhat childish allegory was that the image of Leo already being a young man of seventeen had not quite taken hold within Branton yet. But Leo was not able to make allowances for that. His face flushed red.

“We're not talking about children's toys. This is a situation which could influence the state of the country. With all due respect, Father, Brother, neither of you understand how important this is.”

After shouting that out loud, what he said next was enough to make everyone there feel uncomfortable.

“If this was Allion, this wouldn't even be up for argument. It's so truly childish. In Allion, the king wields absolute power, and all the retainers bow before him like grass blown down in the wind. That is how you hold a country. For Allion...”

“Enough, Leo!” Magrid finally burst out.

He was usually a gentle monarch, so the maids and even the government officials eating at the lowest end of the table looked surprised.

“Are you trying to say that I lack authority as the ruler?”

“N-No... that isn't...”

“If you like Allion that much, then you can leave your father's protection right now and go running to the king of Allion. Should I personally write him a letter asking him to take you in?”

Unsurprisingly, Leo could not stand up against that angry rebuke. He bowed down and apologised in tears. Still breathing roughly, Magrid showed himself to be a father:

“Well anyway, you've been away from the country for many years, and you did, after all, accomplish something important. The fact that you are thinking and planning for the country's future is proof in and of itself that you are growing into adulthood.”

Afterwards, Branton worked hard to calm to situation by asking Leo about his time in Allion, and especially for tales concerning the announcement of his betrothal to Miss Florrie.

Incidentally, Leo's mother and younger brother, Roy, were also present, but the two of them appeared wholly uninterested in the conversation. Seeing her youngest son finishing his meal before anyone else and putting his knife down, his mother asked anxiously,

“Are you not eating any more, Roy? You're not feeling unwell, are you?” When Roy nodded with an abstracted air, her expression turned faintly alarmed. “Don't go to studying and training today. Stay in your room; I'll come and check on you later.”

Beyond that, she did not say anything.

The events at the dining table soon leaked out and spread all over thanks to the servants' gossip.

As a sequel to that, the prince who had so energetically been expounding on his ideals became utterly despondent after being scolded by his father, and once again secluded himself in his room.

Leo Attiel certainly remained in his room for a few days. He went out only once, but immediately shut himself in again. To the people around him, he seemed as though he had been possessed by some timid insect, but very soon after that, the second prince of Atall would make his move, and would implement various measures involving his country and its current enemy, Allion.

Most of them were what he had thought about while he was shut away in his room.

Whether or not those plans succeeded as Leo had hoped is something that will gradually be revealed as the story unfolds, so we will leave that question aside for now. Nevertheless, it is worth saying that Leo held no hesitation.

Normally, when one was about to put large-scale plans into practice, one would definitely experience worries and doubts. Isn’t there something missing? If even a single thing is lacking, won’t it bring it disaster down on me and those around me? – such fears would arise. Leo Attiel, however, put into effect one after another the measures he had imagined.

Now then.

Allow me to interrupt the story for just a moment and ask a certain question.

Do you think that Leo, who, at the tender age of seventeen, carried out his plans with such a complete lack of hesitation – who seemed to be brimming with so much confidence – believed himself to have the makings of a wise general, worthy of leaving his name in history?

Or that he could have guessed that he would later be known far and wide as “the enemy of God”? That they would whisper in every land that he had summoned devils that oppose the Heavens, and that these had imparted their evil wisdom to him, and granted him countless vile traps to use?

That latter is, of course, impossible.

As for the former, it is difficult to know.

Leo had certainly had a talent for scholarship ever since he was young. He read. Both when he was in Atall and when he had been sent to Allion, he read to a staggering extent. Books were by no means inexpensive and, since Claude was an upstart, there was at the time no library in his castle. However, and in part because he hoped that Leo’s love of learning would be a positive influence on his sons, Claude asked the temple priest to buy old manuscripts and such as cheaply as possible, and gave them to Leo, who would finish reading them so quickly after getting them that Claude would joke about it.

“If my territory ends up bankrupt in the near future, it’ll either be because the warlock Hebetes of the bottomless stomach has secretly taken up residence in the castle, or because of that prince from Atall.”

Books are the crystallisation of the wisdom and knowledge of our predecessors. By making their contents ours, we can also imbibe some of that. However, not to repeat myself, but Leo was still only seventeen. He did not know the battlefield. He had never experienced the strategies of adults. Nor had he met and talked with all that many people.

And above all, there was the question of Leo’s personality.

According to those who had known Leo up until then, he was not, by nature, someone who enjoyed fights, and he did not choose the life he led. Although he had shown some slight ambition while in Allion, that was merely in the form of wanting to live a life as something other than an ‘Attiel’, but, in the end, even that was about to be buried beneath the fate he had been born to. Finally, even when Hayden was going to have him brought to his headquarters – where one cannot deny that death by hanging probably awaited him – Leo only fled because Florrie had dragged him by the hand and forced him to do so.

Even so, Leo cannot simply be dismissed as a ‘coward’.

He accepted his responsibilities. He had a sense of duty as a hostage sent from Atall, and also when he had been determined not to bring trouble upon the Anglatt family. Leo treated those around him with as much sympathy and consideration as he would himself.

Knowing Leo Attiel’s true personality, it is impossible not to doubtfully question his future actions. Yet I can assert that he did carry out those actions, despite being as he was – or rather, because he was as he was.

When Hayden Swift left Atall, the vassal lords also returned to their domains one after another, as though being pulled along with him.

They had originally come to the capital to censure the sovereign-prince for sending reinforcements to Conscon Temple. When a messenger from Allion arrived on top of that, Magrid couldn’t help but break out into a cold sweat. This turned out to be a stroke of luck, however: when the messenger’s attitude softened, the vassal lords also suspended their criticisms for the time being.

The sovereign-prince heaved a sigh of relief, although obviously, he didn’t believe that everything was now amicably resolved. There was still the matter of Conscon Temple. It was obvious that Allion had not yet given up on capturing it. However –

“If the temple falls, it will be as good as leaving Atall stark naked,” Oswell Taholin, who had thus persuaded his monarch to send reinforcements, had also returned to his territory without offering any further advice.

Nauma Laumarl is still at the temple. Should I have him withdraw immediately? No, but... if we abandon Conscon, it’ll turn out just as Oswell said.

It was a constant source of worry.

“There’s also the issue of Leo’s betrothal. First of all, we need to send a messenger to Miss Florrie’s father, General Anglatt, then next, one to the king of Allion. Could we go as far as having them acknowledge Atall as a friendly nation through this marriage, and have the envoys carry a treaty of non-aggression?”

Time and time again, he sat in talks with his retainers and Branton, his eldest son.

“When His Highness and Miss Florrie have a son, we could also consider sending him to Allion on the grounds of ‘sending him to receive education in his mother’s native country’.”

“Or perhaps we could have the child inherit the Anglatt family’s castle?”

During one, somewhat protracted, conversation, a soldier guarding the Chamber of State Affairs brought in a message. The very Leo Attiel whom they were talking about was outside the door. Magrid’s expression turned grim, whereas Branton’s brightened.

“Isn’t this perfect? After all, he is the one involved in this marriage. There are sure to also be circumstances on Allion’s side that only Leo knows about. There’s a lot to ask him about.”

Branton truly had all the thoughtfulness of an eldest son, however, not even he could have predicted what his younger brother’s errand was.

“I’ve come to report to you, Your Majesty.”

Once the door was opened, Leo stepped in with an expression just as bright as his brother’s.

“What about?” asked the sovereign-prince. “The previous conversation is already over.”

“Yes, of course. I have come to realise how thoughtless I was being. After you scolded me, Father, I have spent the past few days reflecting deeply upon myself.”

Then what was it he wanted to say? Just as the retainers were wondering if he had come up with an idea for entertainment at the wedding ceremony, Leo smiled,

“I was thinking that, in the near future, I would like to be baptised into the Cross Faith.”

His tone of voice was utterly inappropriate for what he was saying. He announced it as casually as he would say something like, “from tomorrow onwards, I’m changing my horse’s name from Celios to Atlas.” Although, of course, one couldn’t just respond with, “oh, is that right?”

The people present, Sovereign-Prince Magrid included, were every bit as surprised as they had been when Leo had announced his betrothal with Florrie at the banquet.

Wanting to know if his son was being serious, Magrid sent away the retainers so that only Branton and Leo remained.

“A-Are you quite sane, Leo? What do you mean by this?”

While there were adherents of the Cross Faith in Atall, they were very few in number. Except for in the west, where the Dragon Gods’ Faith flourished, and in the east, in Dytiann, which was held together by the Cross Faith, people throughout the continent mainly held polytheist beliefs which had existed since the Magic Dynasty. Even in Allion, where the notion of spirits was deeply entrenched, the basis of their faith included many of those teachings and legends.

In this region, there were several ‘chief gods’, and in Atall, that role belonged to the “Iron Saint”, Lévy-Rahan. There was a fairly large-scale shrine to him in the capital, and the ruling family frequently used it during festivals and formal events. Consequently, it was unprecedented for a member of the sovereign-prince’s family to convert to another religion.

“As I said, I reached this conclusion after thinking long and hard about it.”

Leo’s point of contact with the Cross Faith had been Camus, the warrior monk. He was one of those who had saved Leo from a nearly certain death, and because of that, his teachings had left a deep impression on Leo.

“In all honesty, I thought that things like gods only existed in the unreachable heavens, and had nothing to do with us mortals. I was in a distant foreign land, far from you both, Father, Brother, and I lost count of how many times I cursed the gods for giving me such a fate.”

Whether or not he was deliberately saying things that were painful for his father to hear, Leo continued,

“However, I was reminded that although God is an existence to respect, He does not mercilessly hand down a fate whose decrees one must blindly follow.”

He spoke with eyes wide open. The best example was Conscon Temple, Leo continued. They had fought against Allion, whose terror and might Leo knew well for having once lived there himself. They were motivated neither by self-serving pride not by a selfish greed for the spoils of war, but believed that by standing before God, they could empty themselves and discover their own true will and power as humans.

Sovereign-Prince Magrid frowned. The threatening clouds that had been gathering between Allion and Atall had finally been dispersed, yet if Leo, who had fled from Allion, was now going to do no less than convert to the Cross Faith, he would simply be needlessly provoking their powerful neighbour.

Magrid was about to clearly state his opposition when Leo said something that was the complete reverse of his father’s opinion.

“If I receive baptism into the Cross Faith, I will be able to build a better relationship with Allion.”

When asked what he meant by that, he continued,

“There are many adherents of the Cross Faith in Allion. And there must be equally many who have very mixed feelings regarding the campaign against Conscon Temple. Those who loathe the temple from the bottom of their hearts are probably a minority. Which is why the brunt of the populace’s feelings turned against Atall, which broke the peace treaty and sent soldiers. Therefore, if I join the Cross Faith, the anti-Atallese sentiment should subside somewhat.”

Magrid swallowed back the dissenting opinion that he had been about to voice. It was certainly true that Leo had by far the best understanding of Allion’s internal situation.

“And although you could call this making up excuses after the fact,” Leo still had more to add, “if I, the second prince, am an adherent of the Cross Faith, won’t it make other adherents think that was why Atall couldn’t ignore the danger the temple was in? Or rather, we should actively spread this rumour: that the connection between the temple and the prince goes far back, and that the temple even went out of its way to send warrior monks to save the prince.”

In other words, the point here was to downplay the fact that they had “betrayed Allion” by deeply fixing in people’s minds the impression that they had “taken action to defend God’s teachings”.

Rather than expressing his own thoughts, Leo then spent some time talking about how far the Cross Faith had penetrated Allion, and abut how, although they were by no means a majority group – or rather, for that very reason – they felt a very strong affinity for fellow adherents, and even for those who lived far away from them.

After pondering the matter, Branton showed a willingness to endorse his little brother.

“If on top of his religious conversion, Leo celebrates his wedding to the young lady of the Anglatt House according to the rites and customs of the Cross Faith, wouldn’t the connection to Allion deepen in a double sense?” he spoke up in Leo’s favour.

Magrid folded his arms.

Part 3

An event occurred that same evening.

Kuon was called into the chambers that Camus and Sarah were sharing in the inn they were all staying at, and also found Percy there. The inn was high-class, so the sleeping area was separate from the living room, which had a fireplace installed.

They chatted for a while. Camus was still unhappy with the atmosphere in Tiwana, where the prevalent mood was one of reconciliation with Allion, and his irritation only seemed to be increasing.

“What’s with those brainlessly optimistic nobles we met with? Even though they were once trembling with fear at the thought that Allion might be arriving any day, or even today. The saying about ‘danger past, God forgotten’ fits the people of this country perfectly.”

“Who wants to listen to the same complaints every day? Say, Percy, could you please refer me for work somewhere? I want to earn to pay for a room of my own. Even working as a maid at the palace would be fine. Oh, actually, how about just hiring me to work at your house?”

Although Sarah, his younger sister, was pretending thoughtless optimism, her heart was by no means as calm as her outer appearance suggested. After all, she was a woman who would open fire in the street for a friend’s sake. She could not possibly be indifferent to the predicament the temple was currently facing.

Kuon, for his part, was squatting motionlessly in a corner of the living room. Relentless as the boy was, if they took their eyes off of him, he might go running back to the battlefront.

Finally, the last to turn up was the very person who had called them all there – Leo Attiel.

According to what was being said, the prince was in very low spirits after having received a sharp rebuke from his sovereign and father, so Percy had thought that – the prince has no choice but to stay quiet for a while. So he had been surprised to receive these sudden summons from him. He was wondering what he wanted to talk about, but after exchanging greetings, Leo precipitously dove straight into the matter.

“I want to convert to the Cross Faith,” he announced.

Those words came as a complete surprise to everyone in the room.

“Ah,” Camus sounded overcome with emotion. Leo had already been the only one in Atall advocating reorganising the military, and now that he was turning to belief in the Cross Faith, Camus could feel that this prince was truly, truly, a kindred spirit. Or no – he wondered as his excitement flared up – was their meeting not perhaps ordained by God?

Listening carefully, however, it became clear that the purpose of Leo’s conversion was to soften the anti-Atall feelings in Allion and was absolutely not because he wished to entrust himself to divine guidance.

Camus closed his eyes, crossed his brawny arms, and stayed silent.

He had pledged to dedicate himself to God’s teachings for the rest of his life and until his body rotted, no, even after death, his soul would be consecrated to the Heavens, so to hear that Leo intended to use those beliefs for political reasons left him fiercely angry. But also,

So after all, the prince is also someone who is just scared of Allion’s might and who can only cower and lower his tail before a powerful country – disappointment grazed his heart.

Disconnected from Camus’ emotions, Leo continued to explain,

“I want the baptism to be made a big event, so as to communicate my religious conversion to Allion, and to advertise the fact that this isn’t just a stopgap measure. For example, rather than just making do with some public spot within the palace or the town, I would first have a chapel built according to the traditions of the Cross Faith, and hold the ceremony there. I’ve already petitioned Father for it and received his approval.”

Although Percy was surprised that Leo had already talked to Sovereign-Prince Magrid about it, what he actually expressed surprise about was something else,

“Oh. You are going to have a chapel built in Atall?”

Leo nodded.

“To be exact, a church with a chapel sanctum. Or would a large-scale building be called a cathedral?”

“Oh,” Percy exclaimed again, then glanced towards Camus. His expression immediately turned a little complicated; he did not know what the other was thinking, but Camus was a man whose expressions were easy to read. He was probably pondering the fact that although it was irritating to have his god’s teachings be used like this, having a base for proselytising in Atall would not be a bad idea...

“Will you build the church here in Tiwana? If you do, but... how long would the construction take?”

“First, I’ll have them quickly complete a chapel suitable for baptism. We can expand it later, so something simple will be enough for now. I intend to hold the baptism within a month.”

“A month?”

“Also, the church won’t be built in Tiwana. I suggested to Father that Sir Savan Roux’s territory would be a good place, and Father gave his permission.”

Catching on to the prince’s intentions, Percy lifted his eyebrows a little.

To be sure, there were high-quality quarries in Savan’s territory, ideal for materials needed to construct a church. Thinking about the time and labour needed to transport the quarried stone, it would be preferable to build as close to the source as possible – that was probably how Leo had convinced the sovereign-prince.

Are you thinking not only of holding a baptism and softening the feeling in Allion, but also of drawing closer to Sir Savan?

“Between purchasing stone from his territory and inviting a large number of people to take part in the building work, Sir Savan’s purse is certain to benefit. Nor will Sir Darren, who is aiming for the quarry, be able to do anything to interfere.”

Percy was extremely impressed. And at the same time, he was glad.

The prince really is far from ordinary. He’s thought of ways to try and break out from the current conditions.

This proved that Percy’s own judgement had definitely not been wrong. If he could rescue Savan from his plight, he would surely earn his trust. And he would be killing two birds with one stone by chipping away at the hostility within Allion. And then, once he had brought one of the vassal lords over to his side, what did the prince intend to do afterwards?

Percy felt like a teacher watching over as a good student easily found the right answer, and he was looking forward to what would come next.

“Indeed, Darren’s movements will also be blocked... In due time.” Leo’s words were loaded with unexpressed meaning. “At the start, I intend to hide both my conversion and the building of the church and move forward with them secretly. Which means that when Darren sees large quantities of stone suddenly being cut from the quarry he is aiming for, he’ll panic. If Savan’s reading of the situation is correct – if Darren really is sending marauders because he wants to take over the quarry – then he won’t be able to leave things alone.”

“In other words, you will be deliberately luring Sir Darren’s soldiers to the quarry?”

“Exactly,” Leo nodded as though a student he was teaching had given a correct answer. Their positions seemed to have been reversed.

Percy’s eyes went round.

“A-And then what will you do?”

“Defeat them,” Leo declared decisively.

While Camus opened his eyes wide, and Kuon and Sarah’s eyes were transfixed, Percy spoke almost without realising it.

“W-Wait, Your Highness. Why do that? C-Certainly, Sir Darren’s actions are unworthy of a retainer to the sovereign-prince’s House, but this would inevitably cause you to make enemies within the country, and...”

“It would be terrible to make enemies. I’m doing this to get allies,” Leo’s response was concise. “Right now, I basically have neither allies nor troops at my disposal. So I’m doing this to get both.”

“T-Then, when you have allies and troops, what do you intend to do next?”

Leo closed his mouth. Rather than looking as though he was hard pressed to answer, it looked as though he was carefully choosing what his next words should be. It was only after Kuon had time to cough once to clear his throat that Leo completed what he was saying.

“My aim is to fight Allion.”

Everyone was speechless.

Fight?

In that moment, Percy almost smiled.

There were two reasons for that.

The first was that hadn’t he just said that he was converting to the Cross Faith in order to “soften the hostility within Allion”? Yet now, completely incongruously, he was talking about “fighting”.

The second reason was simply because the word “fight” did not fit Leo Attiel. In both his facial features and his build, he was just like a girl. He was still only seventeen, and he had not experienced his first campaign. As Leo himself had just said, he had neither allies nor soldiers to lead.

Yet even so, he had said that he was going to fight. Moreover, on top of saying that he was going to “deliberately lure Darren’s marauding soldiers and defeat them,” he had also announced that this was first and foremost no more than a way to get hold of allies and troops, with which he would someday attack Allion. This tiny prince, against an opponent that Atall and Shazarn had not been able to compete with even when they had joined forces...

It was no wonder that Percy almost burst into involuntary laughter.

When Leo had appealed for the army to be reorganised, although Percy had found the prince childishly idealistic and still unable to discern the realities of the situation, he had also felt that to be endearing. Being childish also meant looking towards the future as only youth could, and that was something that the leading Atallese nobles and vassal-lords that he had observed did not have.

As the prince grows older, as he climbs the stairs of reality one by one, his ideals will surely turn into a stone weight. It will become hard to climb upwards while still holding that weight, his heartbeat will become erratic, and, in the end, he might even toss them away completely. And they will naturally scatter as they fall. Yet even so, he might also grit his teeth until they bleed, and keep clutching at one last part of his current ideals.

Might not Leo Attiel become a prince worthy of playing a role in Atall’s future? Percy held that expectation, and with it, he hoped that he and the prince would be able to walk forward together. But in his mind, that was very much a story for the future.

His childish ideals are like a balloon that has blown to the limit, and they’ll burst spectacularly when they confront reality. What can I say to get him to stop?

“You may laugh.”

Because of Leo’s words, Percy suddenly realised something.

Lord Leo gave him an enigmatic look, just like a young girl would to a member of the opposite sex.

“But before that, maybe I should correct one thing I said. It’s not Allion that I’ll be fighting – it’s Hayden Swift.”

“Hayden Swift?”

Although he repeated the words, it did not sound as though Percy was simply parroting them.

Surpassing sympathy or disappointment, Percy felt intense irritation towards the prince. He felt like he knew someone very similar: his own past self, who had so blindly believed that he could become hero, without a single thing to support that conviction.

Just then –

“...May I say something, Prince?” The one who spoke was Sarah. “Visiting the residences of the aristocrats was probably part of your plan, right? Won’t you tell us what it is that Lord Leo is thinking about, including his future intentions?”

Her tone was calm and her judgement composed.

Percy felt embarrassed at how his blood had heated and gone coursing through him. At the same time – I see... The reason why Leo Attiel had invited them all and deliberately talked to them about this was because he was looking for their cooperation. It was only now that Percy realised something so entirely obvious.

They still did not know each other well. The number of times they had met face-to-face were few enough to be easy to count. Yet Leo had spoken to them of thoughts that he should normally have kept to himself, including the one about ‘defeating an ally’s soldiers’. Thinking about it, the prince was crossing a very dangerous bridge; whatever it was he was planning on doing, Leo did not have anyone to rely on other than themselves.

Has he been counting on us?

Although Leo’s plan was bold, after all, Percy and the others had also been plenty foolish and bold when they had seriously set about overturning their situation by attacking Allion’s headquarters. Thinking back on how, when he was at the temple, Percy had vowed to himself to at least strike a blow against Allion, he felt that he ought to at least listen to the end to what Leo had to say.

At Sarah’s prompting, Leo started to speak. And from that moment onwards, Percy Leegan experienced a series of surprises.

First, Leo explained how Hayden had mocked him at the banquet, and ominously declared that “Atall’s peace will not for much longer”, which had led to Leo making his own declaration of war in return. Percy unwittingly opened his eyes wide.

“My goodness,” Sarah exclaimed involuntarily, but her reason for doing so was completely different from the men’s concerns. “So it was because you were afraid of Hayden snatching Lady Florrie away that you abruptly announced your engagement, Prince? Without checking Lady Florrie’s wishes? I feel so sorry for her!”

“Be quiet, Sarah,” said Camus. Not in his usual weary tone, but with a sharpness that resembled the spear he wielded.

Although Leo blinked at Sarah’s unexpected attack, he resumed his explanation at Camus’ urging. Judging from his experiences while in Allion and from Hayden’s words, Leo was practically convinced that Hayden was the one pulling the strings of the war on the temple.

His conviction was not founded on any tangible evidence, but Percy found it easy to believe. When they had been about to attack the enemy headquarters only to be captured instead by General Anglatt, he had, through the what the general was saying, had the constant impression that there was something strange about this war.

Although Allion was the one who insisted that Bishop Rogress had “uttered curses against the royal family” and who had sent its army, the number of troops dispatched was insufficient to surround the mountain. Hayden, the commanding officer, had also planned to kill the prince, even though Leo only had a very tenuous relationship with the temple. Moreover, when he learned that the prince had escaped with Florrie, Hayden had promptly abandoned command of the war, and had uprooted the soldiers from the headquarters to go and hunt in the mountains.

If that series of moves by Allion had in fact been made according to Hayden’s wishes, if the reason behind the war lay in one person’s feelings, then no matter how incomprehensible it all was, that baffling, inefficient, ostentatious military campaign was certainly easier to understand.

Camus spoke up again.

“Hayden is the kind of man who could take the initiative to try and conquer the temple even though he had visited it as a mediator. I wouldn’t put it past him to be thinking of destroying Atall.” He nodded with conviction.

Lord Leo looked at each of them in turn as he continued,

“However, even if our opponent is Hayden alone, he has the ‘power’ to move a considerable number of troops. But Atall on the other hand? Even with the country on the brink of crisis, the vassal-lords won’t fall in step with the sovereign-prince. You all saw that, right? Once an obvious threat is gone from sight, they immediately go back to acting like they can lazily doze off in peace. Even though the beast that was just driven off is actually hiding in the nearby bushes, and sharpening its claws and probably still aiming for their throat.”

Leo was no doubt talking about the nobles and vassal-lords that he had gone visiting. What had become apparent to the prince was exactly what Camus had pointed out.

“Given that only the nobility holds the right to command troops here, Atall is fragile. I knew of course what everyone wanted to say back then: ‘you need to try and convince them more skilfully.’ Even I’m not that stupid. I might have obtained better reactions if I had chosen my words or my manner better. But that wouldn’t have been any good. If people didn’t at least share my anxiety before I went to talk to them, then I did not think that they would align themselves with me afterwards either. But, as you also all realised, I couldn’t get even half the response I was hoping for. What do you think it means?”

Percy’s position was once again like having a teacher ask him to answer to a subject under discussion, but this time, he could not carelessly speak up.

“No matter how much you, Prince, try to warn people of the threat posed by Allion and Hayden, as things currently stand, no one will listen,” Camus replied in his place. “In which case, Conscon Temple will soon go up in flames, and Atall will eventually share the same fate.”

Ridiculous, thought Percy. Setting aside the matter of the temple, the talk related to Atall was probably no more than the prince’s mistaken assumption. Surely this was just Camus exaggerating the danger to Atall in the hopes of getting a firm promise of aid to the temple?

Yet despite his impatience, for some reason, Percy couldn’t say anything. Every time he tried to speak up, his throat seemed to constrict as though to prevent from uttering a sound.

Oblivious to Percy’s fretfulness, Leo continued,

“...And that’s why.”

“That’s why?” Camus asked, as though lured in. He had half-risen from where he sat.

“And that’s why, first of all, I will fight. I will fight and defend the country. After having defended it, I need to change it.”

The words almost made Percy feel dizzy. When the floor shook with a dull thud in the next moment, he wondered if getting vertigo due to excessive shock, but actually, it was Camus’ fist which had slammed against the boards.

“You’ll fight. Fight and fight. That’s what you’re saying, right Prince?”

“I’ve been saying it for a while now, warrior monk.”

“Wrong! Up until a moment ago, what you were saying was as unreliable as a dream. But now, I see it clearly: you are a warrior, Lord Leo. Even though you haven’t struck down enemy soldiers at spearpoint, you are more of a warrior than anyone, here in Atall!”

His eyes were shining, and his eyebrows were bristling even more than usual.

“It’s good that you confided in us. It was undoubtedly God’s will that we met in the mountains of Allion. With you, the temple... No, you are one who is protected by God’s love!”

Hold it, Percy tried to hold Camus in check. Yet even though he was driven by a sense of urgency so strong it was enough to make him break out into a sweat, his throat still remained clogged up and his voice could not escape from it.

Dammit! What was wrong with him? Why wasn’t he able to utter a single word to stop these two?

The looks that Lord Leo and Camus were exchanging were feverish. Dangerously ardent. Leo’s heated thoughts about melting the country’s very framework, and Camus’ fervent resolve to protect his divine doctrine even if it meant taking on the most formidable of enemies – the two were mingling into a vortex that might burn away Percy and Atall at any moment.

These two are young. Or rather, they’re too childish. The prince provoked Hayden even though he has neither power nor support. And it doesn’t even need to be said that Camus thinks it’s fine to die for his god. And it’s all well and good for him to die by himself, but he can’t be allowed to involve the rest of us. If I leave these two unchecked, they’ll put Atall in danger. They’re more of a ‘threat’ than the one from Allion that they’re talking about.

I have to stop them. Right, as the oldest one here, scolding children is my duty...

“Lord Leo.”

The constriction in his throat finally wore off and Percy called out Leo’s name more prudently than he had ever addressed him up until now.

“To fight... yeah, your intention to fight is splendid. And I certainly can’t say it’s impossible that Hayden will march his troops against us in the future. But taking on an impossible fight can lead to death, even for the recklessly brave like Camus here.”

“How can you say that Percy? Those who aren’t prepared to die cannot survive war!”

Camus shouted angrily, but Sarah stopped him with a quiet wave of her hand. It was a reversal of the siblings’ usual roles. Percy continued, without paying them any attention,

“Winning is essential. Or at the very least, hoping that you will win. You are saying that you won’t wait for Hayden’s invasion, but will start the fight deliberately and of your own accord – do you believe you can fight and win?”

While ostensibly, he was directing that question to Leo, inwardly, he was asking himself,

Is this what I wanted to say? Didn’t I want to stop the two of them?'

Percy’s eyes were open as far as they would go and were staring intently at the prince, as though to not miss a single thing he did. Percy himself did not notice that those eyes of his were also radiating a certain kind of heat.

There was a long pause.

“Of course.”

For as long as he lived, Percy would never fully forget that moment in which Leo gave a single nod.

“I’ll say it as many times as I have to. If I don’t win this fight, Atall will fall.”

Part 4

Savan Roux returned to his territory, but not a single one of his retainers enquired about the result of his visit to Tiwana. They didn’t even need to see the expression on his face; it was enough to hear his angry footsteps.

The other vassal-lords had also visited the capital, but in Savan’s case, his reason for going had not been to criticise the sovereign-prince.

A ridiculous situation – Savan felt like laughing it to scorn. After all, he was the one who had the best right to denounce the sending of reinforcements to Conscon Temple.

He was the lord of the only territory which had been caught in Allion’s invasion seven years ago.

The battles had been fierce. Clad in his armour, Savan had personally lead his troops and had fought desperately.

Yet the sovereign-prince, who had guessed that Allion was not interested in extending their invasion any further than that, had only sent a few hundred in reinforcement, and those soldiers had merely remained stationed inside the castle. Rather than wage desperate war against Allion, it seemed that they were simply going to wait until their enemy had, so to speak, finished ‘teaching them their lesson’.

Allion’s aggression did not abate, and the dependent castles and fortresses leading to Savan’s main stronghold fell one after another. Reports reached him again and again of the deaths of his retainers – kinsmen or long-time companions all. Among the fallen were Savan’s two sons. His second son had been married less than a year. It seemed like so very long ago that Savan had leaped to his feet in joy upon learning that his daughter-in-law was pregnant.

In the end, even though they had made peace with Allion, that relationship had now once again turned dubious.

Savan felt like flying into a towering rage and screaming to the sovereign-prince’s face – What the hell did you even learn from the last war? Haven’t I sacrificed enough yet?

Since a while ago, however, Savan had another problem in the form of his quarry being targeted.

Bandit-like men were frequently sighted, and they harassed the villages around the quarries, claiming to be “mercenaries in charge of defending the territory.” They seized provisions, demanded women, picked quarrels with the men working at the quarry, and when the rough stonemasons responded to the provocation, the bandits set fire to houses and tied up the workers in question before dragging them behind their horses, all in the name of “revenge”.

Naturally, having received the reports, Savan had sent out soldiers more times than he could count to send them away. Yet the raiders would quickly reappear and do the same thing all over again. Given that Savan was a domain lord with the country’s border to defend, he could not afford to move too many soldiers away from it.

It was obvious that this was Darren Actica’s doing. He had long had his eyes on the high-quality quarry in Savan’s territory, and had several times approached him with an offer of joint ownership of them. A few days earlier, a message had arrived from him, saying,

“It appears outlaws are running riot through your domains. Given that you bear the important duty of defending the country’s borders, Sir Savan, why not allow me to take over the task of subduing these shameful raiders?”

These ‘raiders’ were clearly actually marauders that Darren was directing. He planned to pretend to send soldiers to drive them away, then, under the vague pretext of ‘defending resources’, he would afterwards occupy the quarry.

Darren had wanted to build a new castle in his domain for a long time now. He would need a very large quantity of stone for that, but he begrudged having to pay the money to buy it from Savan.

In Atall as it was then, even though they belonged to the same country, it was by no means rare for fights over resources to break out between domain lords, starting with the vassal-lords. This was largely because the ruling princely house, which bound the country together, had lost much of its power – but I have already spoken of this several times.

Even among the vassal-lords, Darren’s political power was conspicuously strong. The other nobles can’t say anything, and the ruling family doesn’t have the strength to spare to intervene in my affairs – perhaps it was because he had made that evaluation that Darren, more than anyone, acted as he pleased.

“That damned villain.”

Savan bitterly resented Darren for the way that he had repeatedly turned down his appeals for reinforcements during the aforementioned war against Allion.

When he had learned that Darren and the other vassal-lords intended to visit Tiwana because of the matter of Conscon Temple, Savan had made firm his decision to go too. At this point, he had no choice but to appeal directly to the sovereign-prince in front of a crowd of nobles.

As for the result... the sight of Savan wandering aimlessly around his castle, his loud footsteps, and the fact that he had barely spoken to his retainers since his return all told their own tale.

The sovereign-prince had absolutely no inclination to listen to him. Besides wanting to keep any kind of trouble at a distance because of the pressure from Allion, that was undoubtedly also because he feared Darren, who had lead the movement which had pushed Magrid’s father from the throne. The fear that he might follow the same path if he carelessly antagonised his opponent had been clear on Magrid’s face.

Darren is a villain, but the sovereign-prince is utterly unreliable as a ruler. Savan wept from frustration. If he can’t even defend a retainer’s people and land, it would be better if relations with Allion grew worse and he was destroyed. I no longer have any reason to offer my life to the sovereign-prince. When the time comes, should I join Allion’s side and go take Darren’s castle first?

He even went so far as to think those thoughts.

Sava stopped in a corner of the castle. The jars that he had collected as a hobby in his youth were lined up on either side of the corridor. One especially old and valuable wine jar had a large crack running through it. It had been caused when his sons, who had been very young at the time, had been swinging pieces of wood around, pretending it was sword practice. The two of them had apologised to their father in tears. At first, their attitude had been laudable, but that soon turned to a quarrel.

“It was Big Brother’s fault.”

“What, you’re the one who broke the jar! How can you trample all over my good intentions when I said we’d take the blame together!”

And with that, they had started scuffling again.

As he traced the crack with his finger, tears rolled down Savan’s cheeks.

– Not even a few days later, a messenger came to Savan from the sovereign-prince. Savan, understandably, frowned in suspicion.

What business does the sovereign-prince have with me at this point? If he wanted to talk, he could have done so in Tiwana.

It was not just the timing which was strange, but also the line-up of messengers.

Leading them was an elderly man whom he had never seen before. He said his name was Bosc, and he seemed to be a priest of the Cross Faith. He had been born and raised in an area of what was now called the Dytiann Alliance, and had crossed over to Atall thirty years earlier. Since then, he had been scraping by and carrying out missionary work. He currently lived in a village southwest of Tiwana, in a small church which had been built there.

“But what business does an honoured priest have at my castle?” enquired Savan, whereupon a man who was accompanying the priest handed him a letter from the sovereign-prince. This man also appeared to be a monk, but his build was large and his eyes sharp.

Growing increasingly suspicious, Savan opened the letter and read what was written.

The man accompanying Bosc – Camus, saw Lord Savan Roux’s expression change. The suspicion in his face turned to surprise as he turned his eyes down towards the letter, before he quickly cleared his throat, probably in an attempt to regain his composure, and read through the letter again.

The old man named Bosc was someone Camus had located. During his stay in Tiwana, he had mingled with the few members of the Cross Faith there, and had exchanged information with them. Since there was no church within the capital, a certain merchant had built a small chapel in the basement of his own home, and people gathered to worship there. When Camus heard from his fellow faithful that there was a priest who, unusually in Atall, was continuing to disseminate God’s teachings, he had gone to visit him in person.

When Camus had confided what his business was to Bosc, the old man had been no less surprised than Savan currently was. However, his small church had been harassed several times after Atall’s relations with Allion soured over the matter of Conscon Temple,

“This is undoubtedly an excellent opportunity to dispel the people’s ill feelings and to spread our teachings throughout Atall,” he made up his mind to help.

Meanwhile, as the hands with which he was holding the letter trembled imperceptibly, Savan asked,

“Is this true?”

“It is true,” Camus answered instead of Bosc. “His Majesty Sovereign-Prince Magrid wishes to build a church for the Cross Faith – we ourselves do not call it that, but, for the sake of convenience... – here in his land.”

“B-But... why my territory?”

“As is written in the letter, a large-scale monastery will eventually be built, but for now, because there is need to hurry Lord Leo’s baptism, he believes that even for what will only be a simple church, it would be preferable to build it near the quarry.”

Savan’s eyes returned repeatedly to the letter. It was certainly in Sovereign-Prince Magrid’s handwriting.

He gulped. The country would be buying vast quantities of stone from Savan’s domain. Furthermore, in order to build the church, scores of carpenters, masons and craftsmen would be converging on his castle town.

The markets under Savan’s jurisdiction would naturally profit greatly. And once construction was complete, adherents would come every time there was a ceremony, and it was even possible to hope that a great many pilgrims would travel from afar to it.

But what Savan was most grateful for was not those long-term considerations, but that this meant that Darren won’t be able to interfere with my territory anymore.

This was an edict from the ruler. No matter how much Darren might look down on the princely house, he would not oppose the ruler’s decision for no good reason.

“Since there is not yet any large church organisation in Atall, Father Bosc here will one day be installed as bishop and a single, large diocese will be established in this country. We hope to build monasteries and churches throughout Atall, starting in your domains, Lord Savan, while a church council, centred around Bishop Bosc, will preside over their establishment and the selection of abbots, and...”

Savan was barely half listening to the speech that Camus was smoothly reeling off. Thinking about how this would put Darren Actica’s nose out of joint, Savan decided that for the time being, he would extinguish the fires of treason which had been irresistibly raging in his heart only a short while earlier.