Ivan Petrovich stood up from his seat, stretching his stiff shoulders. Today had been another productive day. Once again, he had emerged victorious in the daily battle against the fresh approval documents submitted to his desk.
Krasilov was being rebuilt at a rapid pace. Despite the implementation of extremely aggressive development policies, there was no resistance. Anyone who might have opposed her was now greeting Alexandr in the afterlife.
It could rightfully be considered a form of administrative dictatorship. She had removed most of the nobility and officials, replacing them with her own people.
When the direction is right, this kind of system guarantees definite progress. Whatever its flaws might be, at least in terms of immediate results.
So, with the demon territory quiet, the elves divided, domestic issues eliminated, and the two countries sharing direct borders with them weakened, Krasilov faced nothing but favorable circumstances.
It was a pleasantly busy time. Elizabeta headed toward her private chambers with a slight smile, anticipating the sweet rest awaiting her after handling her busy workload—
"Vanka, hehe. Tonight's dinner..."
Or at least, that's what should have been waiting.
"What are you doing?"
Elizabeta froze instantly at the sight of Pavel and Dmitri kneeling with their hands raised before her. (Since Dmitri had no legs below the knees, he had gotten out of his wheelchair instead.)
Not daring to enter, they sat at the entrance to her chambers, eyes closed, quietly awaiting punishment.
"What is... what's going on?"
"It is not this humble servant's fault, Your Majesty."
"Please spare us, Your Majesty."
Not exactly the words of loyal subjects. Information began to piece together rapidly in Elizabeta's mind.
Hmm, coming all the way to her private chambers to apologize first.
Dmitri and Pavel. Those two belong to the counterintelligence headquarters, and this must be a significant issue requiring their personal apology.
And in front of her private chambers, no less. The fact that they came to her personal quarters rather than the throne room meant this was an extremely private matter.
"No, surely not. No matter what... well. No matter... no matter how much Vanka is Vanka, he wouldn't have gone on another trip without reporting, right after recovering and getting out of bed after a month?"
Elizabeta looked at the two men with a stiff smile. Pavel turned his gaze toward the window, while Dmitri smiled back, sweating profusely.
The smile vanished from her lips very quickly.
"Where?"
"The, the Papal State, Your Majesty."
"Why?"
"There was a request from the Saintess, it seems. It was a personal request, and since no official cooperation document was submitted, we were late in noticing..."
"What about the agents assigned to him?"
"No matter how well the counterintelligence headquarters manages its agents... how could we possibly track Senior? He's someone who could infiltrate Kalion if he set his mind to it."
At Dmitri's words, Elizabeta let out a hollow laugh.
Yes, of course. He's the most skilled agent in this country, so what use would it be to try tracking him?
"Perhaps I should have imprisoned him completely..."
The orphanage could be managed by assigning an administrator and running it as a state project, and the counterintelligence headquarters wasn't so incompetent that it would be paralyzed without him.
What should she do about that madman who runs off to foreign countries even after being given a professorship, skipping entire semesters?
After laughing dejectedly for a while, Elizabeta gave Dmitri, who was awkwardly laughing along, a cold stare.
"Do you find this amusing? Are you in a good mood? I could use some cheering up myself—would you care to share?"
"Your Majesty, Lord Yeremov isn't a child, please don't worry. If Lord Yeremov has decided to return alive, there's no way for the Papal State to oppose him."
"Is that the issue?! Isn't what Vanka might do the bigger problem?! When he visited the dwarves, he killed a byproduct of the Seven Dragon Warriors; when he went to Tilles, he started a civil war; and in Kalion, he destroyed the royal palace!! Can you even imagine what Vanka might do in the Papal State?"
The Papal State is not a military power. At most, they have only a small number of guards, and until now, most of their military power has been handled by priests.
In the era when holy power existed, that alone was sufficient to make them formidable. But not anymore. The Papal State now is, frankly speaking, just a den of fragile old men.
In the midst of all this, she didn't even consider the possibility of Ivan returning injured. That obviously wasn't the problem.
Ivan Petrovich Yeremov had devastated three countries in less than two years since his return from his brief retirement.
"And the Saintess specifically requested Vanka on her way to the Papal State! That obviously means she anticipated some kind of threat. The Saintess isn't a fool, so it means she absolutely needed Vanka, even knowing it would damage your reputation!"
"Unless the 'White Kings' near the Papal State collectively lose their minds, how would they dare oppose our country? Or would Lord Yeremov suddenly go mad and trample their armies?"
"Hmm..."
"Um..."
At Dmitri's joke, Elizabeta and Pavel fell silent.
After checking their reactions, Dmitri burst into laughter and hastily concluded:
"I'm j-joking! Just joking!"
Ignoring Dmitri, Elizabeta turned her gaze to Pavel.
"Pavel, how many troops can we deploy?"
"If we leave the borders unguarded, we could mobilize two corps... but Your Majesty, we cannot afford the military expenses. How would you manage the treasury that's already leaking from Tilles' rearmament?"
"What about collecting war funds? Would that still be insufficient for deployment?"
"If we put any more pressure on the nobles, we'd have to worry about civil war first. The treasury was severely depleted even with just two corps during the Tilles expedition."
Krasilov no longer had the national capacity to plan large-scale overseas deployments. The country was using all its national power for post-war reconstruction, and even that wasn't enough.
Disposing of nobles and inserting administrators wouldn't change anything. To extract money from each territory, they would ultimately have to raise tax rates, and any taxation beyond the current level would eventually destroy the country.
The resources exploited from the demon colonies were barely enough to maintain Krasilov's three corps at the border. In fact, they should have reduced military spending after the last war ended.
Elizabeta clutched her forehead and groaned in distress.
-Bang!! Ratatata!!
The sound of bullets hitting the armored surface of the train continued. Ivan pushed the Saintess under the compartment seat and climbed through the broken window.
-Ping—.
At that moment, line-of-fire detection sharply poured toward his head. Pulling his chin to dodge the line, he stretched out his hand.
Firing along the direction of the line, one of the continuing lines disappeared. Turning his head again and firing, screams followed.
Without stopping his steps, holding his breath for one step. Firing again. Counting the number of bullets while ejecting the magazine, flicking his wrist to reload, and firing again.
-Bang!!
"It's a transcendent! Cease fire!"
"There was no mention of the Saintess having a guard! Incompetent fools!"
"Did Krasilov agree to support the Saintess?"
Murmuring voices could be heard. Ivan quickly counted each of the fleeing individuals one by one.
These were people who knew how to flee when facing a transcendent. That meant they were trained agents. They were running in different directions.
They seemed to be planning a delaying action while accepting losses. It would take at least three days on foot to reach the nearest city from this area where the train had derailed.
Even a transcendent needs rest. Sudden attacks and retreats without even a moment to catch one's breath inevitably wear down a person's stamina.
After three days, a weakened person can no longer be called a transcendent. Of course, even struggling with depleted magical power and food, they wouldn't lose to ordinary people. But if there were transcendent forces among them, it wouldn't be difficult to deal with.
After all, a strike team organized to ambush the Saintess would certainly include transcendent forces.
Ivan stared at one of the fleeing men and said:
"You can come out now."
"What's all this about?!"
"Attacking a train with the Saintess on board? Are they really in their right minds?"
His companions climbed up one by one, opening the windows. They had followed the doctrine of staying in a safe area until Ivan's instructions in case of a sudden combat situation.
Once Ivan had deployed, there was no way troops using mere "guns" could harm him.
"Patricia, can you guess the identity of the attackers?"
"Belacria, Lorencia, Leonor. It's one of the three, but it's hard to be certain."
"Have three of the southern six countries already fallen?"
"That's what we've confirmed so far."
The so-called four great powers: Kalion, Tilles, Krasilov, and Droan. Besides these, there were six human allied kingdoms.
The remaining six countries, excluding the four that directly bordered demon territory, were insignificant states that hadn't developed much due to poor resources and complicated borders.
These were countries led by rulers who claimed the title of king while controlling only five or six small territories. In Krasilov, they were called "White Kings" because they claimed to be kings with territories barely at the level of grand dukes.
Whatever such derogatory terms might mean, their national power was not significantly lacking during their prime. After all, they weren't directly involved in the Great War.
Therefore, the council could be beneficial to them. They would be the first to benefit if nearby countries collapsed, and if the "great powers" were excommunicated, they could march under the pretext of being a "crusader army."
Just to the north, the borders of Tilles and Krasilov met. Since Tilles had recently been greatly weakened by internal strife, it wouldn't be strange if these countries were licking their lips in anticipation.
'With Gil Ber dead, they probably think they have nothing to fear.'
Ivan clicked his tongue and flexed his hands.
"Following this railway, the nearest region is Leonor. It's three days away, and then another two days to the capital."
The group turned their attention to Ivan's words.
"The attackers want the Saintess's head. Remember that the Saintess is now an ordinary person without a trace of magical power, so she could lose her life from a single bullet."
Once they reached an urban area with many watching eyes, the attackers couldn't assault them as openly as now. They knew this, which is why they attacked the train in the middle of the forest.
Without issuing an excommunication order through the council, the Saintess was still the Saintess. If she were assassinated in front of the people, she would soon become a martyr.
Unless she "unavoidably" failed to attend the council due to her disappearance and couldn't refute the heresy judgment. The Pope's ceremonies must always be official.
So, to put it simply:
"We just need to reach the Papal State before the council begins. Any questions?"
"How long will it take to reach the Papal State?"
"If we travel only on foot, it would take about fifteen days. We have to pass through Lorencia after Leonor."
"When is the council being held?"
"In a week."
"Aren't we doomed then...?"
Ivan briefly shook his head at this.
"We'll just have to move twice as fast."
"While dealing with attacks and protecting the Saintess?"
"Yes. Get ready."
Ivan concluded, cracking his back with a loud pop.
"It'll be good training."
"This is insane, seriously."
Traversing difficult terrain and forced marches were part of basic physical training. The intermittent attacks, in a controlled environment, would also be part of the training.
What he didn't mention was:
'If things go wrong at the council and the heresy judgment is confirmed, we'll have to travel the same distance back until we return to our country.'
In that case, all countries along that route would officially pursue the Saintess. Under the pretext of a crusader army, all the way to Krasilov.
By comparison, the path to enter the Papal State would be a walk in the park. After all, they wouldn't be facing armies.