"The royal plenipotentiary of Krasilov, Lord Ivan Petrovich Yeremov, has arrived!"
As the servant opened the door and announced, the monarchs who had been grumbling about the long wait fell silent at once.
A terrible silence filled the tent. The tension among the kings was palpable. Despite being absolute monarchs who wielded tremendous power, at this moment they keenly felt their position as the weaker party.
The plenipotentiary of a war-hungry dynasty that would have certainly waged war against more than half the Allied Kingdoms had there not been a Great War. A man who was himself the world's greatest living assassin, having personally slaughtered three of the Seven Dragon Generals.
-Thud.
Footsteps broke through the silence. Some of the more timid monarchs swallowed dryly as they stared at the tent.
-Thud, thud.
With steps that never hurried, and with perfectly measured strides that everyone in this gathering could recognize as flawless because they had all reached the Domain of the Transcendent.
Even those small sounds of his footsteps were enough to gauge the man's skill. They had expected him to show signs of injury after killing the Dragon Generals and being severely wounded, but that didn't seem to be the case.
Soon, the tent flap opened and the late afternoon sunlight streamed in. Then, blocking that light with his broad back, a man appeared.
Cold eyes gleamed beneath ash-gray hair as they swept across the occupants of the tent. Slowly, carefully. Quietly, like a carnivorous predator just before the hunt.
After surveying the kings, the man moved toward the seat of honor. To the empty place above all the monarchs, as if it were naturally his.
Under the crossed banners of the Krasilov royal family and the 2nd Corps, Ivan silently took his seat and settled in.
"You took your time."
One king couldn't hold back. Domenico of Albinia. Ivan identified his face and nodded.
"Do you have a complaint?"
"Complaint? We are supporting troops gathered to aid your country's crisis! You—your country—should show us more respect!"
"I am showing respect."
Ivan replied calmly.
"That's why I'm tolerating you raising your voice like this."
"What do you—!"
"I am here representing the full authority of the Krasilov royal family. That means I, standing before you, represent the royal authority at this moment. Would you raise your voice like this to our monarch as well?"
"...You must want something from us?"
Domenico glanced around at the other kings as he continued.
"I congratulate you on your decisive victory, but you can't possibly eradicate all the demons scattered across this land with your power alone, can you? The 2nd Corps is half-destroyed, and the 1st Corps barely exists anymore. What makes you think you can wield such authority as you do now?"
"My existence."
Ivan answered briefly and thought to himself. This kind of bluster wasn't to his taste. The back of his neck felt stiff, like he was wearing unfamiliar clothes.
To have risen from a peasant farmer to this position, and now to have to boast of his achievements to a king.
A trained operative never engages in such ostentatious behavior. But he was here representing the king. Sometimes such approaches were necessary.
Ivan suppressed his awkward feelings and spoke.
"The fact that someone killed Aviditas, Lamerix, and Nekinon. And the fact that this person has spent a lifetime training to 'kill someone' 'in others' territories' 'without being noticed by others.' I doubt your royal palaces would be harder to infiltrate than a Dragon General's lair."
"...To threaten kings at this gathering. So openly...!"
As Domenico trembled with rage, Carlos of Belacria, who had been sitting with his arms crossed nearby, shook his head.
"Give it up. Why so many words from a defeated nation?"
"What are you saying!"
"How pathetic. It's barely been a month since Albinia narrowly escaped total destruction. Elsros is somewhat better off. Leonor and Lorencia are in better shape. But aren't we all defeated nations in the end?"
Carlos smiled wryly as he spoke.
"We were all dancing in the palm of the Seven Dragon Generals, trembling under a corrupted Pope. Is there any need to raise our voices against the man who personally slaughtered those Dragon Generals before everyone's eyes? And you, stop this nonsense. You might handle war, but you seem inexperienced in political battles. It doesn't suit you."
"I apologize."
As Ivan nodded slightly, Carlos looked around and said.
"Belacria will maintain military support until this situation is resolved. We'll keep the supplies and provisions as debt to Krasilov, but make no other demands. Is that sufficient?"
"The Eastern Knights of Tilles also agree."
"As representative of the Kalion Fleet, I also agree."
With the wealthiest kingdom of the Southern Six Nations and the two most powerful countries of the North in agreement, the kings of smaller nations could offer no resistance.
If they announced their withdrawal now, it could lead to a state of war. Pulling troops out while other nations had committed forces to form a coalition would be tantamount to stationing combat forces near their home countries.
For instance, if Albinia withdrew its troops, this wouldn't simply mean Albinian forces returning home. The entire process of crossing Krasilov's mainland and passing through territories like Lorencia or Leonor to return home would become problematic.
No monarch would agree to foreign combat forces passing through their homeland. Especially when their own defensive forces were almost completely absent from their territories.
The remaining demons in this land were merely remnants without the Seven Dragon Generals. Defeating them would be a task with little risk compared to the effort required.
In such a situation, it wasn't difficult to imagine what would happen in the near future if one made enemies of Tilles, Kalion, Krasilov, and Belacria.
As the kings fell silent, Ivan nodded lightly.
"I appreciate your voluntary military support."
"We need to locate the demons as quickly as possible. Just feeding a force of this size will uproot the pillars of your country."
"There's no need for such concern. Most of the demons have headed west."
"...The demons retreated in a collective army...?"
Demons cannot act collectively on a battlefield where a Dragon General has died. This is common knowledge for anyone who participated in the previous war.
In such a situation, that massive coalition of different races acted collectively?
Only then did the kings at this gathering realize they had been deceived by Ivan. They spoke with sighs.
"Is a Dragon General still alive!"
"Fortunately, not a Dragon General."
Ivan couldn't help but smile at the kings' shocked expressions as he spoke.
"There is a Demon King."
At those heavy words, the monarchs fell silent as one. The Great War had begun with the birth of a Demon King. Along with that overwhelming power whom all Seven Dragon Generals had gladly worshipped as a god.
But... yes, a Demon King would generally make sense.
Just as demons cannot unite without Dragon Generals, Dragon Generals cannot unite without a Demon King. They were ambitious beings intent on devouring and fattening themselves on each other, while simultaneously hiding in fear of opponents strong enough to kill them.
To command these fearful immortals and direct complex large-scale operations simultaneously in the Southern Six Nations, Droan, and Krasilov would require the existence of a power comparable to a Demon King.
With this, the current war situation became understandable. If both the Southern Six Nations falling into Lamerix's grasp and Krasilov suffering from Nekinon's invasion were all part of the Demon King's strategy.
"When a single Dragon General appeared, the entire army prepared for defeat. Are you suggesting we wage war against an army led by a Demon King? I don't recall agreeing to commit suicide together."
"You won't need to face the Demon King."
"Are you saying you alone can stand against a Demon King?"
To the kings' skeptical gazes, Ivan shook his head and said.
"It would be difficult alone. But I don't work alone."
Oskar looked at Ivan in bewilderment upon hearing those words. Hadn't that man always worked alone...?
Despite that irreverent gaze, Ivan concluded with the same calm expression.
"Face the troops. My 'colleagues' and I will handle the Demon King. As we did in the last Great War."
"Indeed. Having killed Dragon Generals personally, it wouldn't be wrong to call you a Hero. So be it."
As the kings nodded, Ivan tapped the table twice and stood up. They needed to end this war as quickly as possible, before this massive force depleted Krasilov's treasury.
Facing Maximillian would certainly not be easy.
Ivan thought about him briefly. He didn't need to ponder long. Maximillian was the strongest man Ivan knew.
He had never seen him defeated, fail, or even show signs of fatigue. Though he had seen him mentally exhausted, even in such situations Maximillian's combat performance hadn't diminished at all.
Even back then, he was a man who could only be challenged with a calculated chance of victory if the entire Hero Party attacked together. Truly a Hero who seemed chosen by God, like a figure from a painting.
Now he had to face such a man. Did he have a chance of winning? Ivan wondered as he walked away.
'On our side, we have Maximillian's daughter.'
In the distance, he could see Isabelle waving at him with a smile.
'I don't know if Maximillian still cares about his blood relations... but there's at least a possibility.'
"I must have misheard you, right? Right?"
"No, you didn't."
"You're saying you want me to be a hostage while we go to kill my father?"
"Hostage? You misunderstand."
Ivan looked at the young Hero, still short on experience, and explained patiently.
"If Maximillian hesitates when he sees you, I'll attack in that opening."
"How is that any different...?"
"No, wait a minute. What if he doesn't react even with Bella there?"
"Guys? He's my father. Even if he's working with the demons, he... I can't even..."
"Bella. Have you heard that your father directly killed our fathers?"
"Oskar. Wait!!"
The Hero Party gathered in Ivan's makeshift tent was noisily criticizing each other. It was quite a peaceful scene. Especially considering they were discussing their parents' deaths without losing morale.
Perhaps this was normal in this barbaric age. As someone from a Confucian country, Ivan found this chaotic situation difficult to understand, but as always, he didn't try to understand it.
"Lucia's concern is rational. If Maximillian doesn't hesitate to—"
"Please tone down that part of the description. It's too painful for me to hear..."
"...Even in that case, Isabelle has enough skill to hold her own for at least one exchange."
"One exchange, huh. That's painful in its own way..."
Even if Maximillian immediately launched a Sky Slash, it wouldn't be difficult for Isabelle to counter. In fact, Isabelle should be the one to throw a Sky Slash first.
If that could delay him momentarily, Ivan and Lucia would attack from behind, while Yuri and Oskar would support Isabelle, who would certainly be pushed back from the front.
Elfihera would coordinate the overall battle situation from the rear, while Asidis and Yu-jin would be kept as reserve forces to support wherever gaps appeared in their formation.
In other words, this should be approached as a small-scale war. A calamity to be faced in the realm of strategy, not combat.
Lundis, who had been listening to Ivan's explanation, raised his hand.
"Then why did you call me...?"
"We will move underground."
"What...?"
"We'll dig tunnels and move underground. If we try to reach Maximillian by crossing the battlefield where our forces are attacking the demon army above ground, we'll expend too much energy. We'll ambush Maximillian from below."
"Isn't it difficult to pinpoint an attack from underground? If we break through in the wrong place, we'll be isolated in the middle of enemy territory."
"Lucia and Enrique can communicate regardless of distance. Using this, it's not impossible. Any other questions?"
When the group remained silent, Ivan spoke slowly and sincerely.
"Isabelle."
"Yes..."
"I know you respect Maximillian. He's also your father. I understand."
Isabelle raised her head, surprised to hear such words from him, and Ivan looked at her calmly as he spoke.
"But, it must be done."
"Uncle..."
"The Maximillian you remember, and... the one I remember, was never someone who would command demons to invade humans. He was our hope."
But not anymore. Could the Hero of the past and the current Demon King be called the same person?
"Like you, I feel the same. He was one of the people I respected most. He was someone who smiled and opened paths even at the edge of demon territory. How could I not respect him? Someone who shouldered all burdens alone on everyone's behalf, yet moved forward with a smile, never expecting anything in return."
"..."
"But, it must be done, Isabelle. From the moment the number of people who died indirectly by Maximillian's hand exceeded countable limits, we had no choice. I have no right to ask you for something worse than death. So, if you don't want to, stay behind."
Ivan turned his head to survey the group as he spoke.
"The same goes for all of you. If you don't want to, stay behind. This operation has a higher chance of death than survival, and if even Dragon Generals submitted to him, Maximillian's current power is difficult for even me to gauge. So, even if you abandon everything and leave now, I won't blame you."
These were children who could have lived in better environments, received better education.
They were all children of the Hero Party. And the Hero Party consisted of people who sacrificed themselves for all of humanity.
Almost all of them met tragic ends. They certainly deserved better treatment. Even if they didn't receive it, at least their children should have been treated in a manner befitting their parents' achievements.
But look at the reality now.
Ivan was now telling a daughter she needed to go kill her father.
He was asking the same of that father's friends, and the children of those friends. He was even asking them to die.
He had a duty to train them. A duty to raise the Hero Party to become strong enough to live up to that name. That was probably his "story."
As a mentor in an academy genre. Probably, definitely.
But he didn't walk that path. He chose to take Maximillian's place and handle everything himself. Even if it meant these children lost their opportunity to grow.
But... time was short. As cruel as it was for these children, there wasn't enough time for their brilliant talents to fully bloom and develop.
It had been only four years since the Great War ended. And these children had only entered the "Academy" two years ago. Until then, their education had been limited to basic training, and they had barely received more than a year of formal combat training.
In this situation, he was now telling them they needed to challenge a power that had subjugated even living gods. And that person was their family and friend.
It was a damned situation. A damned world. But would he lament? Would he give up everything, lamenting the state of the world?
He had no right to do so. Especially when he thought of the many righteous people who died before him to save his life.
So, Ivan was speaking with all his heart.
If you want to give up, give up. You have that right.
But he wouldn't. Even if the odds decreased further. He had no intention of giving up, even if it meant death. He wasn't trained to give up.
Isabelle, who had been meeting Ivan's gaze, sighed and lowered her head.
Clear tears flowed down her chin and dropped with a plop.
"Let's do it."
She raised her head. Her eyes were looking straight into Ivan's. Having shed her sorrow and resentment with a single tear, she smiled with trembling lips.
Like a true Hero. Even in despair, even while shaking, still standing firm.
Always smiling, even while walking a thorny path of pain and tribulation, never losing her smile. Like the morning star.
"Thank you."
Ivan could only answer like that.