Mess 180
by Cristae180.
“The Mage Tower will accompany you.”
Seraphie glanced at Orkis, seated beside her. Sensing her meaning, Orkis gave a small nod.
“Mages affiliated with the Mage Tower will travel with the Kia merchant convoy to conduct experiments with communication magic. They will be the ones to suppress the factory.”
“Communication magic…,” murmured one of the Glake, recalling something heard in passing.
“A spell that allows you to converse over long distances?”
“That’s what we intend to test.”
Communication magic had made a flawless debut at the recent banquet. Since then, the Mage Tower had been researching ways to extend its effective range.
“…And as a field test for this research, we decided to cooperate with the Kia caravan.”
“So this magic—can it really transmit information over such great distances?”
The Glakes, however, remained doubtful.
“It’s unofficial,” Orkis explained, catching their skepticism, “but recently, we succeeded in communicating by magic between the capital and the Validus domain.”
That was a distance which, by carriage, took three or four days each way. If communication was possible over so long a distance, even farther contact seemed within reach.
“Even if the magic should fail, the mages will secure the area.”
“Can we really trust the mages?”
“You can.”
The Tower Master of the Mage Tower was the Duke of Felicia’s sister.
The Duke, in a moment of anguish, had revealed the whole situation to her. Upon learning the facts, the Tower Master pledged her cooperation.
It was an unprecedented decision, even if only temporarily, to abandon political neutrality.
‘He must have made a poor bargain, whatever was exchanged.’
Orkis recalled his father, ever lamenting the futility of life. The infamously solitary duke’s only weakness had been his sister.
He was sure it had cost the duke dearly.
“Then, can we consider the western operation explained?” Seraphie asked.
The Glake all nodded.
“The eastern group will also accompany the Kia merchant guild.”
Their destination was the Kingdom of Aposita.
“There is something I would like you to look for there.”
“What should we look for?”
“Anything pertaining to the Liloa merchant guild.”
This audit had many purposes: a prelude to the imperial succession struggle, the downfall of the Baglosa guild, and among them, uncovering information about the Liloa guild.
But that part had ended in failure.
The Liloa guild belonged to the foreign kingdom of Aposita. The records were scant, and even the rare ledgers obtained were so paltry as to make one question whether they intended to do business at all.
It was, quite literally, a phantom guild.
So they decided to travel to the Kingdom of Aposita directly.
“And I want you also to search for someone’s movements.”
“You mean the Count of Loria?”
“More precisely, his entire family.”
Seraphie still harbored suspicion over the deaths of the Loria countess and their children.
It was strange for them to have entrusted the autopsy to the Mage Tower—as if eager to demonstrate innocence in the family’s deaths.
Yet, in the end, the medical autopsy had been performed in Aposita, and even then, apparently without dissection.
‘There is definitely something being hidden.’
Troubling uncertainties aside, a persistent unease gnawed at her.
It had lingered ever since the day she saw Count Loria at the funeral.
“…In any case, please be careful, all of you.”
Seraphie’s warning was sincere.
“Your safety is paramount. I will never tolerate a pointless death in the name of ‘sacrifice.’”
Until recently, her only concern had been the crown prince. She’d never agonized this seriously before.
But after coming to know Count Loria, a dark premonition had settled over her—a sense she would never win this fight unless she brought him down.
The moment he won, all would be lost.
“…….”
A sigh slipped from her lips, heavy with worry.
“It will go well!” Luni interjected, her voice buoyant, lifting the mood.
“What are you worrying for already? Serah, look at all this!”
She struck the map spread across the table with as much bravado as she could muster. But, perhaps having hit too hard, she quickly clutched her hand to her chest and fell silent for a moment—a faint sniffling could be heard.
Seraphie gazed at her friend with a look of helpless affection.
“…Anyway, just look.”
Once the pain had faded, Luni spoke again.
“Who else could do something like this?”
“…….”
“No one else could manage it.”
To scheme in the battle for the next emperor was unimaginably dangerous, but Seraphie was nonetheless carrying it out with poise.
She was a perfect commander: devising the strategy, directing it, issuing orders.
She was even able to mobilize the giants of the empire—the Emperor himself, the Master of the Mage Tower, the Duke—for her sake.
“Serah, this is truly amazing.”
There was not a trace of her habitual playful humor in Luni’s face; instead, she wore her deepest expression of earnest loyalty.
“We’re not going to fail.”
It seemed her superior was dogged by anxiety over all of it.
Reasonably so: with such a monumental plot in motion, and the outcome squarely in her hands, doubt and fear were only natural.
‘…It’s frightening, really.’
Failure meant death.
The instant the crown prince became emperor, he would purge them all without a second thought.
But so what?
“If we’re staking our lives on this, let’s do it boldly.”
“…….”
“Everyone here, everyone who thinks things through, is on our side. Those who trust Serah aren’t just sitting back and waiting to be protected.”
This very room was proof of that.
The people gathered here all believed in Seraphie. That was why they were present. Even those absent strove to fulfill their assigned tasks to the very best of their abilities.
All to aid Seraphie, to share in her cause.
“We’re going to win.”
Without fail.
Luni had never imagined she’d say something so embarrassingly sentimental. Surely, the others listening inwardly found it mortifying as well.
But Luni, for the first time, was filled with pride for having done her part.
The relief in Seraphie’s face was proof enough.
Alleviating her superior’s anxiety, helping to uphold her—this was, surely, the truest duty of a confidant.
“…Yes,”
Seraphie murmured.
“We’re going to win.”
The burden on her shoulders remained, but now, it felt the slightest bit lighter.
Simply remembering that she was not bearing this alone made it bearable.
No—perhaps she could carry even more.
Even some of her dread toward Count Loria faded.
“This time, we will be the ones history calls the victors.”
Reinvigorated, Seraphie resumed explaining her plan. The others, swept up by the renewed determination, responded with blazing resolve and eager participation.
The Glake, having heard Seraphie’s plan, immediately set about preparing.
“Here, take these.”
Luni handed them various documents—
Staff IDs from the Kia guild, instructions and information every merchant needed to know, and the current state of the Empire.
All necessary for their covert roles. Luni had organized everything herself.
“The uniforms are being sewn to your measurements, so they’ll be ready by the day after tomorrow. Study these until then.”
The Glake wasted no time in poring over the documents. When questions arose, Pura was quick to assist.
Their marvel at Pura was transparent.
“Lara, you’ve gotten so clever!”
“Our little scamp’s grown up….”
“You’re just blooming, aren’t you.”
They were all local folk who had known Pura since childhood. They found it remarkable that the once-wild tomboy was now leading them as captain.
“S-shut up, will you!”
Embarrassed, Pura retorted with a burst of irritation, though she answered every question promptly when needed.
While the Glake prepared,
Seraphie busied herself with plans for the Council of Elders. Yet there was one task in particular that troubled her above all.
“…Running a knighthood is nothing like running a business.”
The re-establishment of the knighthood.
“A venture could hardly be less efficient…”
“Is it right to consider a knighthood a business at all?”
“It isn’t, obviously. But I didn’t expect expenses to be this high…”
Unlike a shop or a merchant guild—organizations focused on generating profit—the knighthood demanded enormous outlays and constant losses.
Not even Luni, for all her acumen, could find a way around this.
‘Should I just dissolve it now, before it starts…?’
Seraphie had already surrendered. She pictured herself, in her mind, begging the Emperor on her knees to take it back—no fewer than eight times.
But thankfully, there were two people here with hands-on experience managing knights.
Orkis and Karl lent skillful assistance in re-establishing the order; as heirs to noble houses with their own orders of knighthood, they were thoroughly familiar with the work.
“…….”
That, however, made Seraphie miserable.
Thanks to the two veterans’ corrections, the costs ballooned several-fold: the new budget soared so far above her expectations that Seraphie’s vision blurred.
She very nearly burst into tears.
“…Ack!”
From behind, Luni, having peeked at the accounts, fainted on the spot.
“The initial outlay is daunting, but over time the costs will decrease and approach the average,” Karl said, supporting the unconscious Luni.
“And how much is that average?”
“With your abilities, Seraphie, I’m sure you’ll manage.”
“Easy for you to say, with that mouth of yours.”
“Hahaha!”
Karl dodged with a cheerful laugh.
“Congratulations on becoming a great noble.”
Orkis shot a mischievous quip.
Seraphie threw the budget report for the knighthood’s re-establishment in his face.
“Ah, I’m doomed…”
Inside the carriage headed for the Consilium, where the Council of Elders would convene, Ex sat alone and jiggled his knee incessantly.
Muttering “This is crazy,” “What am I going to do,” his anxiety poured out in an endless stream. Nearby were stacks of documents relating to today’s agenda at the Council.
“…….”
Taking a furtive glance at the papers, Ex sighed yet again.
‘Can I really do this…’
No matter how often he steeled himself, the anxiety would not abate.
He was afraid of the crown prince. He had driven his beloved elder brother to his death, and for all his wretched guilt, he pretended to be an idler—because he wanted to survive.
The crown prince must never become emperor. Yet, could he himself usurp the prince and become emperor? He didn’t believe so.
‘This seat should have belonged to my brother.’
He missed his elder brother painfully—now only a faded memory, but once always ready with a smile just for him.
“……!”
Just then, the carriage lurched to a sudden stop.
“Are you all right, my lord?”
A knight escort rushed to check on Ex’s safety.
“What’s happened?”
“The horses suddenly bolted off the road, sir.”
Alarmed, Ex hurried out of the carriage.