“Larsson is dead. Sibylla was the most likely heir. Of course, the other claimants all gave up.”
“What happened to Larsson?”
“The cause of death is unknown.”
Yuri was speaking with a visitor.
It was Vlad.
He had left the imperial capital and come to Briol. For Yuri, it was a welcome guest—he needed to understand the situation in the Holy Kingdom.
“And the temple?”
“They’re staying silent, not knowing the full details. Since Larsson died suddenly, it makes sense that Sibylla would become queen.”
“Why did they attack Bursen?”
“The Holy Kingdom and Bursen have always had a tense relationship. They share a border, after all. There’s been a long-standing dispute over control of the Alas region…”
Alas was a territory wedged between Bursen and the Holy Kingdom.
It was famous for its fine wines, generating significant tax revenue, which made both nations eager to claim it as their own.
Though ownership had changed hands multiple times, Bursen had controlled it recently.
Using this as a pretext, the Holy Kingdom invaded Bursen, and the conflict quickly escalated.
War broke out in an instant.
Yuri felt a sharp headache coming on.
The Holy Kingdom hadn’t just withdrawn—they’d become outright enemies.
With the chaos caused by the Ogre in Liberta, the alliance was effectively broken.
Now, only the Empire and Briol remained.
“I see. So that’s how it is.”
Yuri fell into thought.
Vlad gave a bitter smile.
He missed the days when they could talk about something as simple as the drug rehabilitation clinic. Now, such business seemed utterly pointless.
The continent was swept up in the whirlwind of war overnight.
“They’ve changed that poison quite a bit.”
The emperor had attempted to poison in Johaim, sparking everything.
But Vlad wasn’t naive enough to believe the palace’s official statements.
“I miss the days when I could meet the prince at the palace. Why is the Empire doing all this?”
“Why, you ask?”
“Yes. The Empire is prosperous—more so than ever. It doesn’t seem like there’s any need to start a war.”
“The emperor must have lost his mind.”
“Is that so?”
Vlad nodded readily at Yuri’s words.
It sounded like a throwaway comment, but it was the most plausible explanation.
Ivar was a decent emperor—maybe even better than that. Not aggressive, not incompetent.
So for him to suddenly act this way, madness seemed the only fit explanation.
“Maybe the poison worked halfway.”
Yuri shrugged.
“So, Your Highness.”
“Hm?”
“I have a favor to ask.”
“Is it unreasonable?”
“Maybe.”
Vlad got straight to the point.
“You have connections with both Bursen and the Holy Kingdom, don’t you?”
“I know a few people.”
“Please mediate.”
He leaned forward.
“Now is not the time to fight. Everyone knows the Empire is acting suspiciously.”
“And the palace?”
“The hostility toward other nations has reached a peak. It’s almost unnatural. Something could explode at any moment.”
Yuri nodded.
She had been hearing updates through Gorio.
The Empire’s people continued to persecute the Johaim citizens and looked coldly on foreigners.
There was a strong atmosphere of exclusion against anyone not from their own country.
Vlad was surely affected by this as well.
“Well…”
Yuri tapped the table.
“It won’t work.”
“Huh?”
“Sibylla has no intention of listening to me.”
Before Vlad arrived, Yuri had received a letter from Sibylla.
It contained little detail.
But she had used the ‘wish token’ Yuri had given her long ago.
The letter simply asked Yuri not to interfere or question what was happening—to just stand by.
It was an indirect way of saying she wouldn’t turn back.
Of course, Yuri wasn’t bound by such tokens, but she had no way to intervene. She couldn’t lead Briol’s army to help Bursen right now.
“I have to worry about Briol first.”
Reports were coming in that the Empire’s forces had begun moving.
They were heading toward Briol.
Any country in between would open the way.
Briol was preparing as well. Fiore broke the long silence by inspecting the troops and checking on the knights.
Cedric and Joshua were also returning to the palace.
“Ugh…”
Vlad shook his head.
“Why is everyone changing like this?”
“Changing…”
“Only the gods in the heavens remain unchanged.”
“I see.”
Yuri nodded.
The emperor had changed, and so had Sibylla.
People change, of course, but this was extreme.
There was definitely something behind it.
Perhaps Sibylla had been consumed by dark magic.
Yuri suddenly recalled the letter from her.
Until recently, Sibylla’s situation had been difficult because of Larsson’s interference. Even joining the temple knights had been blocked by him.
“Sibylla couldn’t join the temple knights.”
“Yes…”
“Was it because of Larsson?”
“That’s how it was, but it was only delayed. If given more time, she might have…”
“The temple is responsible too.”
“Well…”
“If you make a promise, you have to keep it.”
Vlad fell silent.
Yuri sighed.
“When will you return to the Holy Kingdom?”
“Now that I’ve met Your Highness, I plan to go back immediately.”
“You’ll have to do better than I did.”
“Yes.”
“Sir Jose was angry and left.”
At those words, Vlad swallowed hard.
Not long ago, Jose had been recognized as one of the Ten Strongest.
Though the list was informal, decided by popular opinion, most people had started naming him among the top ten.
Jose was that strong.
Moreover, after coming to Briol and sparring with various opponents, his skills had improved even further.
“The Holy Knights won’t intervene, right?”
“They probably won’t.”
“Then it’ll be hard to stop Sir Jose.”
The Holy Knights usually stayed out of conflicts.
Especially when the Holy Kingdom was the aggressor, they would be even more cautious.
That meant there was no knight capable of properly stopping Jose.
“Maybe a letter…”
“Sibylla won’t listen anyway.”
Yuri decided it was better to stay quiet than send a half-hearted letter.
“She must have had this in mind from the start. You know Sibylla.”
“Yes…”
She wasn’t indecisive.
Once she’d made up her mind, she would see it through.
Yuri considered several theories.
The most convincing was that the Empire had promised to make Sibylla queen in exchange for her attacking Bursen.
“Larsson must have done worse than we thought.”
“They rushed to marry her off, ignoring the princess’s wishes. And other things besides…”
“A foolish move.”
“He was especially wary of Sibylla. If we’d known it would come to this, we should have stopped it.”
“That’s in the past.”
It was no longer a matter for words. Talking was just empty theory.
“The age of war has come again. Vlad, prepare to pray.”
“Hmm…”
Vlad’s face darkened.
Yuri smiled faintly.
He had spent most of his past life in war. Even after Briol’s fall, he wandered bloody battlefields.
Since returning to the past, he had always been ready for times like this.
The time had come.
Unlike the restless Vlad, Yuri felt a calm settle over him.
“Is the clinic still operating?”
“Yes, but I wonder if it’s of any use. Drugs have spread too widely.”
“Weak people fall easily to the devil’s temptations. The temple has a big role to play—step up.”
Suddenly, Jared knocked on the door.
“Your Highness, may I come in?”
“Come in.”
He entered, bowed to Vlad, then spoke to Yuri.
“The Empire’s envoy has arrived.”
“Is that so?”
“The emperor requests your presence.”
“Understood.”
Yuri stood.
“Vlad, will you wait?”
“No. I will return to the kingdom.”
“Very well.”
Yuri reached out her hand.
The time of war had come. Whatever happened, they might never see each other again.
“I hope we meet again.”
“God will guide us.”
They shook hands.
After seeing Vlad off, Yuri headed straight to the palace where Fiore waited.
Fiore was slouched crookedly on the throne, with ministers including the foreign minister standing by.
“You’re here.”
“Yes.”
Yuri sat beside him.
Fiore motioned sharply.
“Bring him in.”
A royal guard nodded and stepped outside.
Soon, the Empire’s envoy appeared.
A familiar face.
“Your Majesty, King of Briol.”
It was Hasan.
Their eyes met, but he only bowed silently.
Hasan, a direct subordinate of Eugen, had come as an envoy.
This signaled that the crown prince had consolidated real power.
Fiore spoke.
“Raise your head.”
“Y-Yes.”
“Why have you come?”
“Well…”
Hasan’s shoulders visibly tensed.
“I-I came to…”
Yuri sensed Fiore was radiating pressure, pressing down on Hasan.
Fiore rarely threatened anyone like this.
It meant he was deeply displeased.
Yuri felt a strange relief.
Fiore Briol’s involvement, which hadn’t existed in her past life, was now a reality.
It would be a terror for the Empire.
“To hold Briol accountable…”
“Accountable?”
“Yes…”
In the silence, only Fiore repeated the word.
Hasan had been sent to deliver a near-threat, but it was useless before Fiore.
“It’s just that…”
Hasan wasn’t just scared—he was physically affected by the palpable energy Fiore was projecting.
The courtiers around them exchanged puzzled glances, tilting their heads in confusion, but Yuri and the knights and guards present could sense, even if only indirectly, the weight of Fiore’s authority.
“What responsibility are you talking about?”
“Regarding Yohaim…”
Hassan swallowed hard before continuing.
“They’re providing military support…”
“Military support? What do you mean?”
“We’ve received intelligence that a number of knights have been moving back and forth between Yohaim and Briol.”
It was likely referring to guerrilla training.
“Yohaim is a treacherous faction that attempted to poison His Majesty the Emperor. So Briol, for supporting them, must bear responsibility as well…”
“Ah…”
Fiore nodded slowly.
“We trained the knights from Yohaim.”
“So…”
“But that was before the Emperor even claimed he was poisoned.”
“That’s not just a claim.”
“Well, regardless.”
“Even after that, Briol has continued training troops, hasn’t it?”
“So, what do you intend to do about it?”
“If this continues, we cannot just stand by. There will be war. War is inevitable.”
“We won’t.”
“Excuse me?”
“We’ll only train the knights currently here. After that, no more. Is that clear?”
“Uh…”
Yohaim already had guerrilla training facilities in place.
The training methods had been fully passed on, and if necessary, instructors could be sent.
Fiore shrugged.
“Is that acceptable?”
“However,”
Hassan emphasized once more,
“Since Briol has already contributed to Yohaim’s misdeeds, you must take responsibility.”
“What kind of responsibility?”
“We demand reparations.”
“What sort of reparations?”
Hassan took a deep breath before speaking.
“Because Briol’s actions have made Yohaim so ruthless, His Majesty the Emperor commands that you provide troops to strike Yohaim down. You must reap the seeds you have sown.”
They went on to present various other demands, all of which were impossible to meet.
The conclusion was clear.
The Empire intended to strike Briol.
Fiore looked at Yuri.
“Yuri.”
“Yes?”
“I heard what you did when the orc envoy came to demand surrender. What did you do?”
“I cut off their head and sent it back with their flag.”
“Why?”
“Because their demands were nonsense.”
“I see.”
Fiore then fixed his gaze on Hassan.
Hassan trembled—not just from fear, but because he was struggling to breathe.
Fiore rose from his seat.
As if a weight had lifted, Hassan collapsed, gasping for air.
“He’s changed.”
“Huh? What?”
“He’s changed.”
Fiore descended from the throne.
“Ivar has changed.”
“Y-Your Majesty, that’s disrespectful.”
“Ivar, who used to be so talkative. He wasn’t the type to pull stunts like this…”
Fiore muttered, using a familiar nickname as if they shared some history.
Yuri had never suspected there was any connection between Fiore and the Emperor.
Fiore stepped forward to Hassan and asked,
“Is black magic really that intoxicating?”
A heavy silence fell.
Even Hassan held his breath.
Yuri was a little taken aback—he hadn’t expected Fiore to speak so bluntly.
Then Yuri chuckled softly.
At this point, there was nothing left to hide.
“Leave. Before I kill you.”
At Fiore’s words, Hassan froze for a moment before springing to his feet.
Forgetting all decorum, he fled like a man running for his life.
No one laughed at the sight.
Fiore’s back was heavy with unspoken burdens.
So much had changed.
Sybill, the Emperor—they were all different now.
But they weren’t the only ones who had changed.
Soon, they would witness with their own eyes the transformed figure of Fiore—the strongest swordmaster who had long been dormant—reborn anew.