"We must accept Her Highness Frizion’s request at all costs!"
The noble’s voice rang out inside the magic tent.
A chorus of voices rose in immediate agreement, while others just as quickly shouted their opposition.
"Is it really wise to trust her so easily? The very reason His Highness Mercurio was forced to raise this army in the first place was because Her Highness and her allies put him under house arrest. We should assume there is a hidden motive behind this offer."
Several nobles nodded, yet the affirmative faction still held the majority. One of its members turned a sharp, pointed look toward his opponent.
"Her Highness Frizion’s kindness is known throughout the Empire. Surely you haven't forgotten that? Her popularity among the common people is immense. If word reaches the masses that we rejected her help, we will undoubtedly lose our public support. You understand the implications of that, don't you?"
"Well... that may be true, but... that doesn't mean we should take her at her word. Even if she sides with us, how does she plan to help? Unlike Lady Vihera, she isn't known for any martial prowess. Escaping the Imperial Capital to join us is a massive undertaking, if not an outright impossibility."
The affirmative faction had to concede that point. In truth, Frizion was not famous for her individual strength. She was unlike Lady Vihera, whose combat skills were legendary; Schuls, who enjoyed deep support from the military and was a capable commander; or Cabajid, who was flawless and highly competent in all things.
In Mercurio’s case, while his personal martial arts were not top-tier—putting him in a similar position to Frizion—he had a renowned alias holder like Theoreme as a subordinate. Furthermore, there were high expectations for his potential as an unpolished gem.
Incidentally, the reason Frizion was called "Highness" while Vihera was called "Lady" was by Vihera's own request. Having two people addressed as "Highness" in the same army would be confusing, and she considered herself someone who had already fled the Bestia Empire. Thus, she forbade the title, leading to the current use of "Lady."
(Joining up with Her Highness Frizion, huh? It’s not impossible, but...)
Theoreme listened to the nobles' debate, his gaze flicking toward a certain corner of the tent.
Sitting there was a figure who had remained silent throughout the proceedings. He was a person capable of overturning the entire war situation single-handedly—the true rebel army's trump card: Rei.
If a man like Rei acted as an escort, the princess's arrival would be a simple matter. Ordinarily, such a mission would require an elite unit, but Rei and Seto could handle it alone. Furthermore, their ability to fly gave them unparalleled mobility. Factor in the capabilities of Frizion’s own White Rose Knight Order, and joining the rebellion was entirely feasible.
Theoreme was about to ask for Rei's input when he noticed the young man’s gaze. Rei wasn't looking at Theoreme; he was watching the men debating Frizion’s offer. More specifically, his eyes were fixed on three individuals who, for some reason, had hardly spoken at all.
Rei wasn't staring openly; he was being incredibly discreet, watching them without letting them realize they were targets. Theoreme only noticed because he had been observing Rei from the start. A casual observer would have missed it entirely.
(What is it? Did he find something?)
Intrigued, Theoreme shifted his attention to the three nobles. They were men who had offered their cooperation after the previous battle—typical weathercock-type nobles with no particular ties to Cabajid, Schuls, or Frizion. Theoreme had assumed they were simply opportunists looking for a reversal of fortune after failing to enter the mainstream faction.
(Is there more to it?)
He considered the possibility. For men looking to make a name for themselves, their silence during such a pivotal discussion was indeed strange. They should have been speaking up to make a good impression on Mercurio.
(It is suspicious...)
Theoreme’s doubt quickly turned into conviction. Something was wrong.
(I need to have a proper talk with Rei. I'll wait until after this meeting. I should also clear it with His Highness Mercurio...)
He glanced at Mercurio and realized the prince was also watching the three men.
(His Highness has noticed as well. Then this is definitely a problem.)
The debate continued around them, oblivious to their silent communication. Whether for or against the alliance, both sides recognized the merit in the opposing arguments, and the conversation stayed in a stalemate for over an hour.
The deadlock was finally broken by the sound of a noble's stomach growling.
The news of Frizion's letter had broken after sunset. Aside from those like Rei who had gone to meet the White Rose Knight Order, most people had been in the middle of dinner when they were summoned. Some had finished, but others had been attending to chores and were still hungry.
The noble whose stomach had growled flushed with embarrassment. Seeing this, Mercurio gave Theoreme a subtle wink. They shared a silent understanding, and Theoreme spoke up.
"Continuing like this will only keep us in circles. Why don't we end the discussion for tonight? Everyone can return to their tents and organize their thoughts."
"I agree," Mercurio added. "It’s better to cool our heads and refine our positions than to continue a long and meaningless discussion."
With the prince’s immediate support, any nobles who had intended to complain were forced to hold their tongues. Mercurio offered one such noble a pleasant smile.
"What do you think? I don't believe my suggestion is that far off the mark."
"...I suppose so. I will agree to that course of action."
Mercurio nodded at the noble’s reluctant response, hiding his true thoughts behind a polite mask.
"Then it’s settled. I’ll have everyone gather again tomorrow morning, so please have your opinions ready. I want to know the best course of action—not just whether or not to side with Big Sister Frizion, but any other suggestions you might have."
With those final words, the nobles filed out of the magic tent. Rei followed them without a word.
"I wonder if Rei will be alright?" Vihera murmured, watching him go.
Theoreme nodded reassuringly. "It’s Rei. I doubt things will turn out as you fear, Lady Vihera."
"Is that so? ...Well, you're probably right. He beat me, after all. Unless his opponents have some truly extraordinary trump card, they won't be able to lay a finger on him."
Realizing that Vihera had also noticed the suspicious nobles, Theoreme let out a soft sigh at his own lack of focus.
(The arrival of the White Rose Knight Order, the formal message from Her Highness Frizion, the alliance proposal... it was a lot to handle at once, but still... that was pathetic of me.)
He renewed his determination, vowing not to repeat the same mistake.
Night fell over the camp. The bustling voices of the soldiers had faded into the silence of sleep. High above, the moon shone brilliantly, promising fair weather for the coming day.
Inside the tent of a certain noble, three men sat sharing wine.
"Phew. To think such a great opportunity would fall into our laps. I suppose joining the rebel army was a good move after all."
"Hmph. When you first told me the plan, I thought you were talking nonsense."
"Truly. We aren't so foolish as to throw our lives away on a battle we can't win."
Sneers curled their lips—not for anyone in the room, but for the other nobles who had joined the rebellion. These three had never intended to stay with the rebels. Winning or losing didn't matter; the rebel army was at an overwhelming disadvantage, and as protectors of their houses, they had to look out for their own interests.
They had been surprised when they first saw Rei, the alias holder known as Crimson, but they remained skeptical. No matter how strong a single person was, he was still just one man. They doubted an individual could truly stand against an organized army.
Rei had proved such a feat was possible during the Spring War, but these nobles believed that now that his methods—like the Flame Tornado—were known, countermeasures could be found.
"Originally, we were going to wait for a larger battle to defect..."
"But now that we have such valuable information, there’s no need to wait, is there?"
"Exactly. Waiting for a battle might lead to casualties on our side. If we bring this information now, the Empire will surely welcome us back with open arms."
The other two nodded in agreement.
"The only problem is how to leave the rebel army. We brought our own units, so moving them will be quite conspicuous. We really should have reduced our troop numbers before joining."
The man grumbled, but his companions offered bitter smiles.
"We couldn't have done that. The plan was always to turn on the rebels during the battle. We needed our units for that."
"He’s right. If we had arrived with fewer men, they might have questioned our safety or our commitment."
The first man regained his composure. "But how do we depart? At this rate, we'll be caught in the middle of a fight. I refuse to let our profits be eaten up by losses."
They continued to discuss their escape, but they kept running into the same problem: their units were too large to move unnoticed. Eventually, one noble sighed in frustration.
"Why don't we just leave the units behind?"
The others immediately rejected the idea—not out of concern for their men, but for their own value.
"Don't be a fool. Those units are our leverage for the Empire. We can't just throw away elite soldiers."
"The lack of communication with the other side is what hurts. We sent a messenger before we joined, but we’ve stayed silent since then to avoid discovery. If only we could coordinate more closely..."
"It can't be helped. Word is the subjugation army hasn't been able to sneak a single spy into this camp."
One noble voiced a long-standing doubt. "...But from what I’ve seen, the perimeter is guarded by ordinary soldiers. I can't believe special intelligence units are being stopped by them."
The others nodded, sharing his confusion.
"That’s probably because people like me were around."
A voice echoed through the tent as a figure stepped inside. In his hand, he gripped a scythe far larger than himself.