End of the War
Three weeks had passed since the fall of the imperial capital. Alicetia had recovered considerably and was already growing restless with boredom.
The allied nations decided that, for peace negotiations with the Empire, their kings would personally head to the capital, and preparations for departure were already underway.
However, even though Alicetia’s army had occupied the capital, it was hard to say they had fully seized control of the Empire.
For one thing, most of the lords had yet to submit to Alicetia’s rule. Even with the Empire’s head—the capital—cut off, the Empire was vast, and the body would keep moving for a time.
“Not enough reparations.”
Alicetia muttered in frustration. In three weeks, she had seized almost all of the government and noble assets in the capital as reparations, but it wasn’t even half the tax revenue of the mighty Granzur Empire, famed for its vast land and population.
Determined to extract the full reparations, Alicetia left behind a garrison to secure the capital and began moving her forces toward territories that had yet to surrender.
This time she did not bother with stealth. She mobilized the unearthed magic battleship, the armed airships, and a total of eleven available airships to advance.
The magic battleship proved unexpectedly fast—matching the speed of the armed airships—and in just a few hours, they reached a certain count’s domain.
“Surrender at once and submit to my banner.”
That was all Alicetia said.
The count himself had died in the war, but his eldest son refused, rallying under the banner of defending his land and barricading himself in the domain’s capital. But then the one-sided assault from the skies began.
First came the armed airships. They rained shells mercilessly upon the count’s troops and citizen-soldiers stationed along the castle walls.
Their targets were those on the walls, but the overwhelming firepower forced the domain to surrender within an hour. The eldest son, leading from the front, was killed in action.
Once the count’s domain surrendered, Alicetia’s forces immediately began confiscating noble assets.
They seized many furnishings, as well as the weapons of the remaining troops—including those fallen in battle. Then, before the day was out, they resumed their march.
News of this spread swiftly across the land.
The overwhelming might of Alicetia’s army was clear. Refuse the surrender demand and your domain would be ravaged.
As a result, more and more lords abandoned the thought of fighting, offering up their wealth instead. Alicetia’s forces would then take the treasure and leave without otherwise despoiling the land.
Many lords, thinking they could simply recoup their losses by squeezing their peasants, submitted willingly—never realizing this was part of Alicetia’s design.
“Weak.”
Alicetia voiced her displeasure at the fragile lords. If they resisted, she could have annihilated their armies—sowing chaos in the Empire after the war.
With imperial royalty and nobles weakened, rebellions would rise across the land. Especially among those forcibly annexed and treated as second-class citizens, whose hatred for the Empire ran deep. Sometimes, they even aided Alicetia from within the domain capitals. When Alicetia killed a lord and left, they saw a chance to regain their independence. Though they had no intention of serving Alicetia, they treated her as the enemy of their enemy. Alicetia, of course, allowed their activities with full awareness.
“Without the capital to unite them, the lords can’t regroup. There’s no chance of a comeback.”
Takuto replied coolly. Countless lives were being lost, but he couldn’t care less how many imperial citizens died. To him, only Alicetia—the reincarnation of Iris—mattered.
And his words were the truth.
The Empire had already lost most of its main forces in the Arland war, along with many brilliant generals and nobles.
Those who remained had been captured when the capital fell, leaving only local garrisons in the domains. With Alicetia’s rampage across the land, communication broke down and cooperation was impossible.
Once, the Granzur Empire had dominated the continent. But with its head—the government—subjugated, the body thrashed about aimlessly. An empire without a head was no longer a great power.
Alicetia’s advance continued unchecked. She forced one domain to surrender each day, seizing reparations until the required amount was met.
Later called Alicetia’s Blitzkrieg Campaign, this march shook the entire continent, proving she was not simply soft-hearted but someone to be feared.
And there was one thing no nation could ignore: the magic battleship.
“Detected: an imperial noble coalition force, five kilometers ahead.”
The battleship was packed with superior magitech. Though many functions were still unknown, Alicetia’s clones were unraveling its secrets daily, and the once-legendary warship was beginning to show its true power.
The first breakthrough was wide-area detection. Far surpassing Alicetia’s own creations, it could even sense people.
“Begin mana supply to the second and third batteries. Commence chanting.”
At her command, vast mana from the battleship’s core was funneled into the so-called batteries—platforms where her clones stood with staves raised, chanting.
The staves were makeshift, but with Philosopher’s Stones embedded, they amplified the magic’s effect.
The Philosopher’s Stone was an ancient magical catalyst with powerful amplification properties. Some were being studied, but the rest had already been put into use.
Unlike Alicetia’s main body, her clones wielding these stones lacked the frailty of an immature body and could even surpass her in magic use.
With only a brief chant, the spell was complete. The chosen magic: Light Blast—a beam of concentrated light. Normally a thin heat ray, but amplified by the immense mana of the core and the Philosopher’s Stone, it became a colossal beam that incinerated the imperial coalition.
“We could probably recreate the Seven Days of Fire with this.”
Even Alicetia herself was stunned by the devastation. Most soldiers were vaporized, and the ground itself glowed red with heat.
Naturally, the coalition collapsed. The remaining units were burned away one after another.
With this lightning campaign, the remaining nobles surrendered in succession, agreeing to pay reparations the government could not cover and to free their slaves. Any who resisted risked their mansions being razed, and so they bowed at last.
In barely a month after leaving the capital, Alicetia had secured the reparations.
And the Granzur Empire lost most of its non-human slaves. Over half of those freed chose to migrate to Arland, transported by airship in stages.
Finally, the rulers of the allied nations gathered in the imperial capital.
Since Gilbert was too busy, Draconia came as Arland’s representative.
“Alicetia!”
“Guh! Y-you’ll crush me!”
Reunited with his beloved daughter, Draconia hugged her tight. Having worried to the point of despair, he misjudged his strength.
“F-Father, you’ll squish me…”
“O-oh, forgive me! Are you hurt? Are you well?”
The hero Draconia, tears streaming down his face, fussed over her.
“No problem.”
“I always tell you not to be reckless.”
“It’s fine, it was necessary recklessness. Things will get much easier from here.”
Hearing that, Draconia’s stern expression softened for the first time since the war began. The castle without Alicetia had been like a funeral—its usual brightness gone.
There was no doubt Alicetia was accepted in Arland, that she had a true home there.
While Arland rejoiced in their reunion, the other allies were aghast.
“Isn’t it strangely lacking in buildings… especially government offices?”
“The imperial palace should have stood there… even the walls are gone.”
The allied kings were well-acquainted with the capital, having often been summoned there as vassals or subordinates. But what they saw now was a capital stripped bare—government buildings dismantled, the imperial palace reduced to rubble, even sections of the city wall gone. The capital’s defenses were nothing but a memory.
The citizens trudged the streets with downcast faces, their former imperial pride nowhere to be seen.
The allied kings shuddered.
This was what happened when one angered Alicetia.
And they understood anew that they had chosen wisely. Arland had the power to topple the Empire. Standing with Arland meant safety. So long as they did not misstep, Arland would remain a good friend. Unlike the Empire, Arland did not seek one-sided gains in trade—something the kings valued greatly.
“What barbarians, they said… but what about them is barbaric?”
“We never truly understood them. From now on, we must forge even stronger ties—military and economic.”
None dissented. The only nation that could rival Arland’s national power was the Zirbit Commercial State. Militarily, though, they now knew that even all the allies combined could not stand against Arland.
“That unfamiliar airship… if memory serves, that’s a magic battleship?”
“...…”
All chose to postpone dealing with it. The battleship was beyond their understanding, and raising the issue now would change nothing. But they would have to consider carefully how to deal with Arland in the future.
And so, in the ruins of the imperial palace, the peace negotiations took place.
The emperor, filthy and bound to a chair, wept as he signed the surrender documents before the gathered nations. Having learned through his imprisonment that defiance meant merciless punishment, he was already broken, wishing only for death.
Through this peace, Arland’s allies not only regained their old territories but even seized borderlands as “interest” on their losses.
Arland, however, demanded only slave liberation and reparations, taking land solely in an uninhabited region near Draconia’s homeland by the border.
They also imposed a ten-kilometer demilitarized zone on the imperial side of the border, forbidding the Empire from moving troops there without Arland’s consent.
Furthermore, they forced the Empire to hand over war criminals. In effect, the war was over.
But the Empire had only surrendered—it stubbornly refused a peace treaty. For Alicetia, the condition was simple: accept the terms, or she would leave, meaning the Empire bore an extremely unfavorable settlement.
In short, there was no peace with Alicetia. Anger her, and she would bring calamity again. The Empire knew this and was utterly spent.
In this defeat, the Empire lost over twenty percent of its territory.
When the peace ended and everyone was returning home, the Emperor of the Country of Tranquility happened to pass near Arland.
“What—!”
From his carriage window on the way to the airship, the emperor spotted something unbelievable.
“A three-tailed foxkin… could it be the daughter of the Nine-Tails? At last, I’ve found a trace!”
For years, the Country of Tranquility had sought the Nine-Tailed Fox. Once royalty of the Beast Garden, she was the last of her kind. Their true goal, however, was the elven man who had left the Country of Tranquility with her.
The Country of Tranquility sealed away Yamata no Orochi, a bio-weapon of the Ancient Magical Dynasty made to counter the Spirit King.
But the sealing clan had perished. Thus, the elf carried off by the nine-tailed fox had to be secured at all costs—otherwise calamity would strike the Country of Tranquility.
“To think they were near the princess all along…”
The emperor grit his teeth. Arland was a united nation. If they had already migrated there, seizing them would be near impossible. Given Arland’s founding principles, they would never hand over citizens lightly—least of all someone within the royal court.
“What should I do… we cannot oppose them.”
The emperor had no desire to confront Arland. He thought it best to handle matters peacefully.
“There’s no choice. We’ll have to send envoys and explain the situation.”
Perhaps even reveal the Country of Tranquility’s long-hidden secret. With a sigh, the emperor resigned himself to that path.
What do you think about this chapter?
