Chapter 265: Everyone Will Die

My conversation with Valiere von Anhalt was over.

I had learned of the man named Faust von Polydoro.

So, what should I do next? I wondered.

“――Still, that Lord Polydoro is a truly fine man, is he not?”

So spoke my attendant, a man to whom I could entrust my absolute confidence.

And he was entirely correct.

His features are certainly unsightly, I suppose.

He is tall, with a chest more like a rugged kite shield than a piece of furniture.

His emotions are fiery, constantly at a boil.

But in terms of character, in the sense of being a man of substance…

“A man of his caliber is not found in the Holy Gusten Empire, nor even in all the world――well, setting aside your father, Lady Maxine, who is in a class of his own. Just as Lord Polydoro himself praised.”

Such was my attendant’s assessment.

Yes, if there is a better man, I suppose for me it would still be Father.

No, that’s not right.

If Father were a superman like Lord Polydoro, he would have slaughtered the City Council and escaped while carrying me in his arms.

In that sense, my father is slightly inferior.

Only slightly, though.

“Heh.”

I smiled.

The City Council, which had once filled me with a seething rage, had now been beaten half to death (I slaughtered about half of them).

And Valiere had ‘viciously’ stripped the surviving half of their wealth.

It was all immensely amusing.

Could there be a more delightful story?

Ah, what fun.

“Lady Maxine, perhaps through his official fiancée, Lady Valiere, we should request his, well… seed…”

My attendant made the suggestion, though he seemed a little hesitant to say it.

And yet, his tone suggested this was his true desire.

Well, that is what I had intended.

That was the whole point of this discussion from the beginning.

“I’ve had a slight change of heart.”

“What do you mean?”

“Simply that I see no need to rush. Lady Valiere and her retinue will be staying for about a month.”

I spread my hands.

Spreading my delicate hands, I offered a cynical smile, displaying all the dignity I could muster.

I spoke to my attendant.

“Let us take our time, shall we not? Let us be leisurely. Yes, for now, a late-night meal.”

“Are you feeling well enough?”

My attendant worried I might be pushing myself by asking for a late-night meal, but that wasn’t it.

“I am simply hungry. I wonder, did Lord Polydoro’s fiery spirit burn away the contents of my stomach? Or perhaps my entire being?”

I was just famished.

My brain was demanding food.

“At once. Shall I add a glass of that wine from the other day, the one as sweet as honey?”

“Excellent. That would be most excellent.”

I raised a single index finger.

That’s perfect, let’s do that.

I nodded in satisfaction.

My attendant excused himself for a moment, and I took a small breath.

Well now.

What should I do?

Here, I hesitated.

I considered my initial plan.

What was it I intended to do?

Become pregnant with Faust von Polydoro’s child, abandon this Holy Gusten Empire, and flee to my homeland.

If the Mongols push as far as my homeland, I will flee even further.

Fleeing to Father’s homeland would be a good option as well.

I had thought that far ahead.

Frankly, beyond that, I had no plan.

I might die, after all.

Childbirth is a life-or-death struggle.

The act of bringing forth a new life wrings every last drop of vitality from the mother.

With my frail body, it will truly be a gamble with my own life.

…

So, yes, I should build up my strength.

Eating well is a good idea.

Perhaps I should arrange more opportunities to dine with Valiere.

I am certain they would be enjoyable and delicious meals.

Watching that girl was somehow calming to my spirit.

Of course, this was predicated on the immense favor she held in my eyes as the agent of my long-desired revenge.

But it wasn’t just that. I also felt a strange, girlish charm about her.

Before I knew it, I would find myself trying to read her mind, to see what she was thinking.

The conclusion?

She wasn’t thinking about anything.

Valiere thinks purely of others, solely of how she can bring happiness to her subordinates.

She is that sort of wholesome anomaly.

Is that how she defeated the Elector of Mainz? Are all her soldiers willing to fight to the death? Is her existence more important to her subordinates than their own lives?

It had been an unwinnable battle.

Historians of later ages will surely be baffled.

Because it was a battle that, no matter how you looked at it, could not be won.

That’s right, it was unwinnable.

Just as the Holy Gusten Empire, even if it gathered all its strength, could never defeat the powerful nomadic nation of the Mongols.

This was clear not only to my own superior mind, but to any fool.

To encounter them is to die.

Death is certain.

Their cavalry will march on, trampling all who resist.

The most charismatic leader in the history of a great empire that possesses everything is swinging a clenched fist with all his might.

There is no way to resist.

—

But, if I’m going to say that, wasn’t the battle between Valiere and the Elector of Mainz the same?

It was, by anyone’s estimation, a fool’s errand.

Why? How? By what means? Where was there any room for victory?

I repeat, future historians will truly rack their brains over this.

Because it is a battle that makes no sense.

All of her soldiers swear an oath of loyalty that their liege is more precious than their own existence.

How many of the world’s great figures have ever fulfilled the prerequisite for such primitive loyalty?

Therefore—

If I could slam that kind of incomprehensible, unpredictable, ultra-violent force from the side, then even against the Mongols.

Even against the largest empire in the world.

“Nonsense.”

I shook off the fantasy.

It’s impossible to win.

Duke Temeraire investigated the Mongols thoroughly.

He explained it to me in excruciating detail.

The entire Holy Gusten Empire must be united.

The right to command must be unified.

No, even that is not enough.

Everything is lacking; the word ‘lacking’ echoes.

We would need to summon not just mercenary companies from abroad, but kings.

To join forces with the very people we have fought time and again, to form a fist with a grip so tight, so very tight, it could crush lead.

Something like that—

“Who could possibly do such a thing?”

Where is the person capable of that?

But there is one, isn’t there?

I am sure there is a woman who would say so.

The woman of the House of Anhalt, that vixen, Duchess Astarte.

That woman has been thinking it all along.

‘There is one person, is there not, who can summon military strength from abroad?’

‘The blue blood, who has gathered the finest lineages from both within and without the country.’

‘That person is you, Maxine.’

That is what Duchess Astarte is thinking.

How foolish.

—

She must know.

I have no intention of going along with such a thing.

I must continue my bloodline.

Even the Electors don’t care whether the Holy Gusten Empire is destroyed or not.

It’s the same for the Emperor.

As long as their own clan can prosper, as long as they are secure, that is all that matters.

To hell with a country like this!!

May the Empire that drove my father and my mother to their deaths be destroyed!!

That is what I believe.

But.

—

Still, it is too early to make that decision.

And to ensure my family’s bloodline does not end, there is something I have yet to do.

“Martina von Bosel.”

I muttered the name of the nine-year-old genius.

With my attendant excused and only guards standing outside the door, I spoke the girl’s name in my office.

My eyes fell upon the title of a book lying on the desk.

It was titled Guns, Cannons, and Knights.

—

I traced the cover of the book.

I had read it over and over again.

It was not as if I, Maxine, had not thought about it.

It was not as if I hadn’t searched for a way to defeat the Mongols.

Therefore.

To raise the probability of victory just a little—to turn a one percent chance into two percent—speaking with the girl called Martina might not be such a bad idea.

“At the very least, I will leave something behind for those who are determined to fight. That wouldn’t be so bad, would it?”

That nine-year-old girl will probably go to the battlefield.

Lord Polydoro is going, so she will follow.

And she will probably die.

Valiere, Lord Polydoro, Martina, every last one of them.

Therefore.

To leave them with even a slightly better chance of landing a clenched fist on the Mongols, I will cooperate.

If I have come to that conclusion, who could blame me?

This is not a postponement of my decision.

It is a transaction.

Martina will teach me about the latest technology, the knowledge gained from the Cologne Sect, and the future of the battlefield.

In return, I will question her and add my own annotations.