Chapter 373

Chapter 361

"......"

I'd anticipated they would try to bind me to themselves by whatever means necessary, and sure enough. It was almost astonishing.

What's more, they knew. That I was the core of the command. They knew perfectly well that the core of every Pleroma annihilation operation was me, and no one else.

'...This is dangerous.'

For my own safety, and for the Empire's.

Of course, it was no longer the time to keep my existence and activities tightly concealed. Even if I were suspected of being Nicolaus. If I'd absolutely had to hide, I wouldn't have come this far—I'd have deliberately failed exams and lived without drawing notice. High risk, high return was now the baseline. If you sought renown, you had to shoulder commensurate risk, and their current interest in me was merely one such risk. Above all, even if I hadn't been so actively engaged, they would have been watching me constantly anyway, given the Pleroma label attached to me.

If there was anyone who would covet my social success first, it was Pleroma. Not by anyone's will or intent, but because they stood to reap a boost from me.

But unfortunately, I'm not a Pleroma. Even if I can drink blood to heal damaged parts and become stronger than anyone, I'm not the same as them. Our essences are different. I opened my mouth in a resolute voice.

"At the risk of impropriety, I request permission to speak."

"Sir Askanian is not a Pleroma."

A firm voice cut in abruptly.

I widened my eyes and turned my head. Even though permission hadn't been granted, Mecklenburg had spoken. Leo's widened eyes turned toward him. Narce, seated to my right, looked at him as well.

At that frigid tone, the ministers' gazes turned to Mecklenburg. The elder watched him in silence before speaking.

"If it's not an imposition, I should like to hear what His Excellency Mecklenburg has to say, Your Excellency the Chancellor."

"No. I believe his single remark just now conveyed the entirety of his meaning. Sir Askanian is not a Pleroma. He is not steeped in Pleroma's ideology, he does not drink blood, and he is more loyal to His Majesty and the fatherland than anyone."

The Chancellor finished decisively. To receive such an appraisal from none other than the Imperial Chancellor—last year's events came to mind, and it felt strange to reflect on. The elder nodded with a peaceful expression and said:

"We Pleroma are also His Majesty's subjects, and we wish for the survival and tranquility of the German Empire."

"Sir Askanian does not threaten the safety of the subjects."

Mecklenburg, catching the meaning behind the other's words at once, cut him off in a frigid voice. Unlike his tone, he maintained a composed expression as he continued.

"Millions of lives owe their survival to Sir Askanian thus far. Do you comprehend that weight, Your Excellency?"

"......"

I had to make a desperate effort to conceal my surprise. Did this bastard eat something bad...? That was the thought that flashed through my mind. But I could soon infer well enough that his words were genuine, coming from the heart.

From everything I'd observed, Mecklenburg was fundamentally loyal to the Emperor, and as such, he prioritized the values the Emperor outwardly held dear. Which meant that—unbelievably, considering everything he'd demonstrated so far—he valued the safety of the subjects. And here a problematic difference emerged. The standard for "subjects" held by him and the pro-Emperor politicians like him was different from mine. He "knew" that Berserkers were victims of Pleroma, but he'd defined them as enemies to be executed on the grounds that they spread the berserk phenomenon to other subjects and squandered the national treasury in the process. How shortsighted that judgment was had already been laid bare in the earlier debate over firearm usage, so he no longer raised objections, but that had been his thinking up until then.

Returning to the main point, spouting about the safety of the subjects was something well within the bounds of what his political leanings would produce. Except....

'...This man is defending me?'

"Your Excellency. You are here as an observer."

The Chancellor restrained Mecklenburg.

Defending me. With that character of his—me? Ignoring even the procedure for permission? However much he and I shared a common enemy in Adrian Askanian, this was unlike him. Wasn't he always the one wearing that insufferable smile, speaking smoothly only when it was strictly necessary? I distinctly remembered him foisting every last directive onto his Vice-Captain, Erich Reichenau, while he stepped back and played the good man. So why....

Contrary to his brusque words, had he actually taken a liking to Nicolaus from the start? Or was his sense of "we share a common enemy, so we're comrades" greater than I'd thought? Or was it simply that his antipathy toward Pleroma ran deep, and I alone was misreading it as him defending me? The thought didn't run long. The elder's distinctive, thoroughly hoarse voice soon flowed out.

"It is easy to walk the broad road and pass through the wide gate. Those who travel the narrow path are commonly subject to misunderstanding. Even when it is the will of God."

"......"

My head was going numb.

I'd caught on from the moment he used that evasive phrasing earlier—"the acts that the Imperial government currently designates by such terrible names." These people considered their crimes righteous. No—let me put it more precisely. The Empire defines it as crime, but they consider it salvation. That was the message. It was merely that we failed to comprehend the true will of God. This wasn't simply heresy. The religious term "heresy" couldn't explain the harm these people caused. They claimed to be a religious organization, but Pleroma was already an interest group. The Metropolitan Archbishop before me wasn't a religious man but a businessman with the bearing of an administrator. Wasn't he? The atmosphere had already turned sharply cold.

"There is no further point in arguing here that we truly act for the Empire and its subjects. We knew our values and the Empire's values differ, and we did not come with the intent to persuade you of that. However, allow me to explain one thing."

The elder's gaze turned toward me.

"Becoming Pleroma has nothing to do with ideology. Pleroma's beginning was whole unto itself. Have you heard of the one who rose from the grave?"

"Sir Askanian has never died."

"Ah, how admirable."

The moment Mecklenburg's protest ended, a sound like a throat being thoroughly scraped burst forth. At an attitude like letting a child's question go in one ear and out the other, Mecklenburg's mouth fell open and his brow furrowed. The message was unmistakable. Whether I had colluded with Pleroma or not, whether I endorsed Pleroma's ideology or not, by their standard I was decidedly a Pleroma.

At the sudden shift in the current, I raised my head. The elder's eyes fixed on me. The aura emanating from him, with that warm face, landed cold.

"I understand the objection, but this one thing must be made clear. I do not recognize just anyone as Pleroma."

The instant Mecklenburg contorted his face and made to speak again, the Chancellor gestured to the guards and raised his voice.

"That is enough. Your Excellency is speaking of matters unrelated to the negotiations. If you intend to continue with talk irrelevant to these proceedings and to issue unnecessary threats, we cannot entertain this any further."

When a guard standing near the wall stepped toward the bishop, the bishop spread his hand open as if to stop him. The safety restraint device fastened to his wrinkled skin gleamed. Since he had once again demonstrated that he had no intention of harming us, we couldn't restrain him by force either—not if we wanted to preserve this meeting. The Chancellor waved the guard off with a sharp look.

Since this was the first time meeting Pleroma in an official capacity, the Empire would grant Pleroma ample right to speak, separate from asserting its own position forcefully. With every word of theirs constituting intelligence, one of the Empire's reasons for agreeing to negotiations was precisely to obtain information through dialogue with Pleroma. But to anyone's eyes, they had crossed the line. In short, it came to this: rather than giving us information we could piece together and reason from, they were putting forward propaganda designed to sow discord among us.

"Sir Askanian, you cannot be anything other than a Pleroma by heaven's endowment."

Right. Something like: Askanian is a Pleroma. He is on our side while realizing your justice. The Empire's peace is being maintained by a Pleroma. Do you not know? The fleeting instant in which those words continued felt like an eternity. The Chancellor and ministers hardened their expressions and spoke in voices laden with strong protest. I smiled, and the Metropolitan Archbishop before me smiled as well. Only that grotesque voice kept boring into my ears.

"How could one who is thus whole unto himself not be a glorious being?"

BEEEEEEEP—

A hushed silence settled in. The world reaching my ears had stopped, while everything before my eyes moved rapidly. My heart seized. Here, of all places. Of all places, here? But one thing was certain. Whatever happened after this, I had no intention of giving them a clue. I looked at the Metropolitan Archbishop's gentle smile and curved my eyes.

I could see Leo's expression—he'd been watching me—transform completely. Leo's magic power, which had been wrapped around my core, came surging into my core like a flood. No, it hadn't surged in.... My core had devoured the magic power Leo's artifact was supplying. There was no mistaking it, given how utterly bewildered Leo's expression became.

"...!"

Something cold seeped in from my side and spread along my spine. Someone's hand, extending from the right, touched my skin. An unknown force spreading up my neck—the hand carrying it wrapped around the back of my head and folded my body sideways. Perhaps it had caught me, rather. My head was turned.

—"Let's meet again after you've slept."

A calm voice lodged in my mind. The last thing I saw before my eyes closed was the flustered faces of people turning to look at me, and the green ring on Narce's hand pressed against my cheek.

***

Mecklenburg felt his heart pounding.

This one thing must be made clear. I do not recognize just anyone as Pleroma.

The Metropolitan Archbishop had called Askanian a heaven-sent Pleroma, and that was not a slur, as we would take it to be. It was an acknowledgment of ability and a glorious tribute. The highest praise they could offer—but from Nicolaus Ernst's standpoint, the worst possible defamation.

The instant Pleroma's outrageous remarks ended, Askanian's body tilted and he fell toward the mage of the Farnese family seated beside him. Farnese hurriedly caught his head and shoulders, but Askanian already appeared to have lost consciousness. Farnese lifted his head sharply with a flustered face.

"The truth is, Sir Askanian's condition has been poor, and he was scheduled to convalesce for a week starting the day before yesterday. This assembly seems to have been an excessive burden."

The end of Farnese's voice trembled.

An excessive burden, this assembly? Enduring their insults in silence would certainly be difficult, but he'd looked healthy. Of all people, that Sir Nicolaus feeling burdened by an occasion like this—surely not.

But... before hearing the news that he couldn't hear, when we'd spoken, Askanian had shown an attitude no different from usual. I now know he'd been performing a lie. So what if he had simply been hiding it all along as well? Even that Sir Nicolaus Ernst couldn't possibly have gone unaffected by a label that had chased him his whole life, and what if he had actually found it unbearable? What if that emotion was the very motive that created the identity of Nicolaus Ernst?

"......"

Fine, I admit it. In truth, I may have already thought that might be the case. The reason I poured out behavior I wouldn't normally have engaged in might well be that I had already suspected it. Mecklenburg swallowed. The elder said nothing, merely gazing at Askanian with a smile, and the officials' faces grew increasingly grim. They had gone on spouting things irrelevant to the negotiations, and at last harm had come of it. His Excellency the Chancellor exhaled at length and swallowed, his posture rigid. Then, while the medical staff carried Askanian out, he pressed the Metropolitan Archbishop.

"What do you have to say about this? Did the Pleroma delegation not come here today to negotiate?"

"We had no plan to burden him, so it is regrettable that he was so shocked as to collapse. Returning to the main point, we made this demand precisely because we wish to cultivate mages like Sir Askanian aboveground and contribute to the Empire. But it appears we shall not find common ground on this."

"Regulations on Pleroma's missionary activities will continue going forward. Even if Pleroma were to cease pursuing missionary work through criminal acts, considering the harm the organization has inflicted on the Empire to date, we cannot but obstruct the expansion of your influence. We do not compromise on crime."

His Excellency the Chancellor rejected Pleroma's demand outright. As expected, these negotiations would break down. There wasn't a single corner where compromise could take root. The Empire had simply come here to extract information from these Pleroma and to do its utmost for the safety of the subjects.

One of the Metropolitan Archbishops spoke.

"In that case, allow us to make a second proposal. We would like to propose cooperation."

"You have already spoken once, so let us now hear the Empire's demands. Pleroma is contaminating Imperial land, and the subjects' right to survival is being severely violated."

"Mm."

"Cease your contamination of the land and rivers. I trust you are well aware of the resulting damages and the human and material losses without my having to enumerate them all. Your Excellency the Minister of Finance."

His Excellency the Chancellor received a file from the minister. He'd likely intended to state the damage figures, but the attempt was cut off immediately. Another Metropolitan Archbishop seated beside the elder spoke.

"We too are aware that many people in the Empire suffer from our substances. That is precisely why we asked to be permitted to cultivate our Pleroma legally on Imperial soil."

Back to square one, in the end. Mecklenburg clenched his hand. The empty seat to his right felt inordinately large. It wasn't as though Askanian, who had come as an observer, had been continuing to speak at this table. Mecklenburg would be the only one to feel that way, but with Nicolaus Ernst gone as well, this place held nothing but tension.

'...To assess it honestly, our side is being drawn into Pleroma's frame.'

Our administration, accustomed to normal and reasonable diplomacy, and the leadership of an organization that had been deranged from the start—the two had been fundamentally incompatible from the outset. Even when our side tried to proceed by procedure, they seized every opening and pressed on with absurd claims, which was nothing short of exasperating. Even for a secret negotiation, there could be no other diplomatic delegation this belligerent. His Excellency the Chancellor, wearing the face of a man talking to a wall, refused in an even more resolute tone.

"You speak nonsense. We do not compromise on crime. If you do not cease, our Empire has no choice but to respond to Pleroma more forcefully than we do now."

"Then we must ask for your understanding. I trust our answer to the Empire's demands has been sufficient. May we now make our second proposal? This is the last of our proposals, so from here on we shall listen closely to the Empire's position."

"......"

Had we been speaking with a normal organization, negotiations would end here. Did they think this was a parliament where factional battles broke out? There was no reason to keep tolerating an opponent this discourteous. But at present, we had the Empire's enemy right in front of us, so we couldn't kick away that opportunity—and they seemed to know it.

The Chancellor gestured to the aide standing behind him. The aide whispered briefly and withdrew to the rear again.

"Proceed."

"Thank you. We Pleroma wish to lend strength to the German Empire's military power against the threat of foreign powers. Therefore, we shall lend our Pleroma's elite forces for the Empire's security."

His Excellency the Chancellor was now wearing a frigid smile.

"How many?"

"We shall send as many as you desire."

"I decline."

No one voiced the reason aloud. There was no reason to courteously explain themselves to Pleroma, and no one there was unaware of the reason anyway. If that many Pleroma entered the Empire, there was certainly much the Empire could gain. Intelligence and strength both. But the moment they were incorporated into our military, our intelligence had to be assumed to flow straight to them. However thoroughly security was maintained, controlling the feet and mouths of not one or two but many was a difficult thing.

"It seems our Pleroma has not earned your trust. We must offer you our trust before we can speak properly."

Having said that, the Metropolitan Archbishop of Munich-Freising continued in a solemn voice.

"Thus says the LORD of hosts. Behold, I send my messenger, and he will prepare the way before me. And the Lord whom you seek will suddenly come to his temple; and the messenger of the covenant in whom you delight, behold, he is coming."

His Excellency the Chancellor answered dryly.

"Malachi."

"This is the revelation granted to our Pleroma. The messenger of the covenant we have awaited is now among us, and therefore the Lord whom we seek is destined to come soon to his temple."

Mecklenburg narrowed his eyes. He had clearly felt the same doubt. One of the ministers spoke.

"...The messenger of the covenant and the Lord whom we seek are the same being."

"According to our prophecy, that is not so."

"......"

The politicians' faces hardened further. The realization that we were dealing with utter madmen kept sinking in, and tension crawled up my spine as it had when we first faced them. Mecklenburg looked at the mage of the Farnese family. He merely gazed at the Metropolitan Archbishops with a faint smile, showing no reaction whatsoever. I'd heard he came from the Vatican's seminary—the man who would be the most religious of anyone on our side shows no reaction at all to this. Why? Mecklenburg swallowed and turned his head. The Acting Minister of Magic spoke.

"I will speak. Malachi is the final book of the Old Testament. Was Malachi's prophecy not already fulfilled in the New Testament?"

"Of course, but we await a new covenant."

A new covenant—did he mean to rewrite the New Testament? While Mecklenburg pressed his lips tightly shut and sank into thought, they continued.

"We have certainly brought many trials upon the Empire. But that is not a signal of intent to oppose the Empire. We are at a juncture where we must join hands as one people against foreign powers. To keep our sincerity from being doubted, we must reveal what is, as it were, our very heart."

The Metropolitan Archbishop looked around at everyone, smiled, and said:

"So, Your Excellency the Chancellor, there is one envoy who has not yet arrived here. He should be at the palace checkpoint now—would you grant him entry to this place?"

They were nothing but inscrutable statements, but at present, every one of them constituted intelligence for us. His Excellency the Chancellor exchanged glances with the ministers and nodded.

"Permission granted."

CRAAAAASH—

The moment the answer fell, a thunderous roar erupted. In the instant the gale blurred the senses, Mecklenburg drew his wand and shot to his feet. Everyone except Narce Farnese was standing, and everyone's wand except his was aimed at a single point. Mecklenburg squinted, blocking the wind with one arm as he trained his wand on one person.

A mage who had appeared driving a pure white light stood with his head bowed, leaning on a staff. Surrounded by light, his face couldn't be seen properly. The only thing visible—hair and skin so white they looked transparent as glass—was chilling.

The Metropolitan Archbishop gestured toward him with a satisfied expression.

"Let us hand the messenger of the covenant over to the Empire. What do you say?"