Chapter 262

The Central Nations Alliance
The Central Nations Alliance—it was an organization like the UN on Earth, a body in which nearly every nation on the continent held membership. In reality, however, power lay in the hands of the three great powers, and the voices of smaller nations rarely carried weight.

Most members grumbled at this state of affairs, yet to refuse membership was dangerous: non-members risked being branded enemies and invaded under that pretext. Thus, many states begrudgingly stayed within the fold.

Worst of all was the Granzur Empire, long the bane of the Alliance, throwing its weight around unchecked.

“Seems the Empire’s the one howling now.”

“Hah, serves them right.”

Here gathered the kings from across the continent.

“But Arland’s expansion doesn’t sit well with me. I don’t like the Empire either, but trade with them brings profit. Losing those interests wouldn’t be wise.”

For all its sins, the Empire’s vast land and teeming population made it an economic hub. Many smaller kingdoms feared disruption of that trade more than they hated imperial bullying.

“Shall we send reinforcements?”

“You want another Lucia tragedy on our hands?”

The Kingdom of Lucia had dispatched troops to aid the Empire—only to be annihilated from the skies by Arland’s air raids. Both its king and crown prince perished, plunging the realm into disaster. Among those present were kings of vassal states to the Empire, yet none dared advocate sending aid. Fear of Arland had silenced them all.

“But if things go on like this, the sub-humans will forge a mighty nation. They’ll destroy us in turn!”

The Alliance’s hostility toward Arland sprang from fear.

Long ago, as humans rose in power, other races were driven north—not for justice, but out of envy and prejudice. Humans lacked the Beastkin’s strength, the Elves’ command of magic, the Dwarves’ craftsmanship, or the Demons’ unnatural gifts. Their inferiority bred resentment.

Even though no race had truly sought to rule over humans, suspicion gnawed at them. They feared subjugation, and could not abide being lesser.

But humans multiplied swiftly. Numbers gave them strength. Fear turned to persecution, and other races suffered.

Yet not all humans shared in this. Some rejected human supremacism and sought harmony with others. The Kingdom of Avalon embodied that ideal.

Humans cried out:
“Peace now, perhaps—but one day they’ll enslave us!”

Avalon’s king replied:
“And when, pray tell, is ‘one day’? Have we ever been enslaved? Your fear I understand, and blind trust is folly. But they are our friends, our neighbors. We cannot stand with you.”

While human nations across the continent persecuted others, Avalon refused. So Avalon was branded traitor, and destroyed.

That fear eventually birthed worse—the revival of the Demon King. The just knightly king of Avalon, stripped of lord and country, was consumed by hatred and lashed out at countless realms.

Then arose the Hero—a legend, humanity’s hope. A human who could strike down the Demon King whom all others feared.

Yet even the Hero rejected human supremacy and vanished.

Their hope gone, humans continued their persecution to hide their own fear.

Now only Arland stood as protector of the other races. If Arland grew strong, the Alliance nations feared retribution. They could not rest unless all others were beneath humanity.

And so the cycle endured.

“… Arland must fall. At the very least, they should bow before us.”

If Arland would but submit to the Alliance, they could bear it. But Arland knew well what that meant—human supremacism creeping in, rotting them from within until their kingdom collapsed. Thus, they had never joined, and never would.

Driven from their homes, hounded to the wilds, forced to tame barren lands—still Arland would not kneel.

This conflict would not end until one side was destroyed.

And now, one man sought to turn this fear to his advantage: the Pope of the Avia Holy Empire.

“If reinforcements are difficult, then perhaps we should… simply let Arland take the Empire?”

“Unthinkable! We cannot allow such a thing!”

The kings roared in protest, but the Pope merely smiled within.

“Yet the Arland princess… she’s unpredictable. The Empire’s army lies shattered, so how is she still wreaking havoc there? Curious. But my real question is this: can Arland truly hold the Empire?”

The rulers stiffened.

“Our Holy Church will never recognize a nation ruled by sub-humans—or even allied with them. And remember, the Empire’s chief faith is ours.

Picture it: the faithful of the Empire, under Arland’s yoke. They would feel fear, shame, humiliation. And all we need whisper is: ‘Shall you not reclaim your independence?’”

Though Arland guarded its secrets, leaks were inevitable. With patience, the Church could glean enough. And both the Pope and the silent Magus-King at his side knew the truth: Arland lacked the strength to annex the Empire.

They did not have the men, nor the coin. Their economy already tottered. The burden of the Empire would break them.

If the Church stirred rebellion, the strain would crush Arland. The princess might hold them afloat for now, but add the Empire to the load and she would sink.

“Arland will bleed itself dry suppressing revolt. Its economy will collapse. Then we need only deliver the coup de grâce.”

“But… the princess. She’s incomprehensible. Who knows what she’ll do? And if she takes the Empire, our trade will—”

Yes, the Empire was loathed. But its markets were vast, feeding many nations’ economies. Losing them would be devastating.

“Did you know? War is far more profitable when fought by others. If rebellion breaks out, our faithful will need food, arms, medicine—supplies we alone can sell.”

War one wages oneself drains labor and lives. But selling into another’s war—there lies fortune.

“And surely you’d rather see the Empire divided than devour your realms whole?”

Silence. They could not deny it.

This war spelled the Empire’s defeat. Without aid, Arland could not be stopped.

Defeat would shatter imperial authority. Vassals and conquered lands alike would rise in revolt. The great host they scraped together was gone; the remaining garrisons could never hold such vast territory. The Emperor’s throne would be forfeit, sparking civil war. With the crown prince in Arland’s hands, execution was certain. The royal heirs would tear each other apart for the vacant throne.

The Empire would fracture. New states would emerge. And “benevolent” neighbors could aid them—buying influence, securing rights. Short-term losses, but long-term gains in security and opportunity.

“The princess knows how to fight, but not how to end wars,” the Pope declared. She could never win the hearts of the Empire’s people—after all the slaves she had freed, after the walls she had shattered.

“Now then—let us vote. Shall we send aid to the Empire, or not?”

The answer was clear.
The Central Nations Alliance chose to abandon the Empire.

Once all was decided and the kings had departed, only the Pope remained in the council chamber, arms folded, sneering.

(Now then… what to do about that princess.)

The Pope had two options.

The first was to grant Alicetia a flawless victory. By doing so, he believed he would elevate her authority and provoke a power struggle within Arland.

In reality, however, the succession struggle in Arland was nothing more than King Draconia and Crown Prince Gilbert desperately trying to force the throne onto each other. The throne was treated like a cursed lottery ticket no one wanted—but in normal logic, a crown is something all would covet, so the Pope’s reasoning wasn’t entirely absurd.

As for Alicetia, she rejected it from the depths of her heart. Becoming queen meant being buried under endless work by the Chancellor, and if she tried to run, she’d just be tied to her chair and forced to finish it anyway.

From Alicetia’s perspective, becoming queen would mean losing her snack time and nap time. Fortunately, she had an older brother, Gilbert, so she intended to use every means possible to shove the crown onto him instead.

Gilbert, for his part, had no interest in the throne either. He only stayed Crown Prince because his sister rejected it so vigorously. In fact, he thought that if Alicetia became queen, he could steal the Chancellor’s position and support her in all matters, public and private. The siblings, fundamentally, got along very well.

And Gilbert had no intention of forcing Draconia to abdicate for at least another twenty years. Being Crown Prince was just a little more comfortable.

Currently, Alicetia’s supporters in Arland would never tolerate bending her will, so even if her authority increased, there was no room for a succession dispute.

If anyone tried to prop her up, Alicetia’s own faction would crush them so thoroughly and persistently that they would never dare consider it again.

The Pope simply did not understand Alicetia’s extremely unique position.

So he chose the other option.

That was to seize Alicetia herself.

The Magic King was greedy, but cautious. With so much unknown about Alicetia’s strength, he would not act for now. He would simply watch.

That gave the Pope his opening to capture Alicetia.

His original plan had been to push her into becoming a Demon King and then launch a Holy War. But with the Holy Empire currently wracked by internal conflict, declaring a Holy War now risked the nation being snatched away by the Kemono cultists.

Therefore, securing Alicetia was necessary.

It didn’t matter to him whether she was Demon King or Spirit King.

“The Dark Age is close. If I can claim the Spirit King’s power as my own… our chances of victory will rise.”

He had already stolen the Goddess’ power and summoned many otherworlders. Some had fled, but those were the ones unwilling to serve. The top hundred otherworlders were not only stronger than the rest, they had adapted to the Empire’s system. No—more than that, they understood that obedience to the Empire meant enjoying riches and pleasures.

They knew their own worth. As long as they were obedient, they could have all the gold and partners they wanted.

With the Goddess’ power and the Spirit King’s power, the Dark Age—the time of the Evil God—could be overcome. Humanity, fractured and scattered, could be unified around the Holy Church.

For humans longed for it: a hero who could stand against other races. Victory by numbers alone was not enough. They needed one of their own flesh and blood to overwhelm the others. In other words, they needed another Hero.

“How delightful. Yes, delightful indeed. The world does not always move as I wish… but it remains within the palm of my hand.”

The Pope called for his aide.

“You summoned me?”

“I will move Kanzaki and Shii. How many church knights can we deploy?”

The aide faltered slightly but kept his expression steady. Personally, he would rather hunt down Stein—the man calling himself Darth Kemono—and burn him at the stake.

But his loyalty to the Pope came first, and so he answered.

“Currently, most of our church knights are deployed in the Stein subjugation. Nearly all of our strength is occupied.”

“No matter. A few thousand will be more than enough to capture the princess. Heh… and I’ve just obtained some very valuable information.”

The Pope had been gathering intelligence ever since Alicetia began her invasion of the Empire.

And now, he had secured the best piece yet.

The composition of Alicetia’s army.

The aide received the report and smirked.

“Kanzaki and Shii possess abilities perfectly suited for this. They were meant as trump cards against the Magic Kingdom, but… once we have the princess, the rest will follow sooner or later.”

For the Pope, “sooner or later” could mean years—or centuries. It did not matter.

The two chosen otherworlders had unique abilities: Magic Nullification and Artifact Nullification.

Magic Nullification erased any spell that exerted an effect on the outside world. Internal effects, like physical enhancement, were immune—but even those could be disrupted to some degree. However, artifacts were beyond its reach.

That was where Artifact Nullification came in, closing the gap.

“They’re arrogant, aren’t they? Any nation researches ways to resist magic to some degree. Even the Empire built its capital’s walls from stone resistant to magical influence.”

“Form the force around cavalry. Let’s see… we’ll strike after the imperial capital falls. They’ll be somewhat weakened by then.”

“As you command. I’ll gather a force ready to move at once.”

The aide bowed and left.

“If possible, I’d have sent twenty thousand…”

The Holy Empire was feared not because of its standing army, which was relatively small, but because of its ability to mobilize believers in other nations. But with the standing army so small, and much of it paralyzed by internal betrayal, they could not move much. What he was sending now was truly the limit.

Meanwhile, at that very moment—

“Starting today, we burn the Empire every single day.”

A rain of fire meteors fell upon the imperial nobles’ summer retreat.

The Empire, being a warm country, suffered blistering summers. Ludonia Frozen Lake, however, was a resort where even the lake bottom remained frozen, making the surrounding area cool despite the climate. But now, it was an inferno.

Why was it frozen? No one had ever investigated. The lake was unnatural—frozen year-round in the Empire’s climate. Clearly sustained by magic. But if someone investigated carelessly, they might disrupt the magic and lose the resort. So although people were curious, no one dared examine it.

That was, until several of Alicetia’s clones happened to pass by. Seeing the frozen lake, one muttered:

“Huh. Pretty cheeky of the Empire to have a place this cool-looking.”

Moments later, they unleashed tactical magic far above high-tier spells—burning the lake to nothing.

The surrounding villas of the aristocrats, staffed by caretakers, could do nothing but watch in horror as the mystical lake boiled away.

And so the so-called sacred lake met its end—completely evaporated, driving imperial nobles to madness.

“Hm? Looks like something was sunk at the bottom.”

“A ship?”

“Looks like… a tanker.”

One clone shot lightning from her palm. But the moment it touched the ship, the spell fizzled out.

“Not an ordinary tanker, then.”

“My analysis spell isn’t working well… Wait—that’s Dark Matter Alloy!”

They had seen it before. The answer clicked immediately.

“Hold on. This shape… it’s not a tanker. Isn’t this one of those magic battleships mentioned in Arporo and Kyua’s ancient studies?”

“But it doesn’t have a main cannon.”

“During the Ancient Mage Dynasty, magic battleships were built around human magicians. The magi themselves were the main guns.”

Fueled by magic reactors and amplified by Philosopher’s Stones, the ship’s sorcerers provided its firepower.

“Wait wait—didn’t the Year Chronicles say all the magic battleships sank?”

“That record was written 400 years after the dynasty fell.”

“Well, only one way to know. Let’s check it out.”

They began investigating the sunken vessel—and made a chilling discovery.

“Uh… this thing’s still alive, isn’t it?”

“Yup. Fully operational.”

The ship’s systems were powered down, even its defenses offline. But the bridge was pristine, unmarred.

“Hey look! Found the operations manual—in ancient script!”

“Ooooh.”

“Doesn’t look too hard to pilot, actually.”

“Incredible! The furnace’s still running!”

“No way! We’re still struggling with short-lived magic cores, and this one’s intact?!”

Alicetia’s own furnaces were stable and powerful, but required specially processed magic orbs—and those were exceedingly rare. Yet here, the ancient furnace still held a functioning core, surpassing even Alicetia’s tech.

And it wasn’t just the furnace—many of the ship’s magical devices exceeded even Alicetia’s models.

“What an incredible treasure we’ve found.”

“I think we should burn the Empire every day and go treasure-hunting.”

“So, what do we do with this?”

“Well, since the ‘persuasion’ is already done, let’s just take this to the imperial capital. If we move on our own, the main body will get mad.”

“Bet the reward’s just one pudding.”

“Worth it.”

“Takuto’s pudding is delicious. Just talking about it makes me want some.”

“Then let’s move right away. Pudding awaits me.”

The clones raised their fists high. They activated the furnace, performed all system checks—no problems. The lake had been sealing this ship all along. Now freed, the battleship lifted off the ground, gaining altitude, and began to glide forward.

That day, a magic battleship unearthed in the Empire began its course toward the imperial capital.

“Oh, by the way, we found about forty-two Philosopher’s Stones.”

“““Jackpot!”””

What do you think about this chapter?