Nataman, the Emperor of the Western Empire.
There was not much Alon knew about him.
Contanias of the Northern Empire was infamous enough to be talked about even on the previous world’s community boards, but when it came to Nataman, everything Alon knew was limited to what Evan had told him.
That his territory had been ripped apart by Divine blood until it collapsed.
Other than that, there was no real information about Nataman.
Of course, Nataman would naturally know nothing about Alon either.
Alon had lived in the Allied Kingdoms his entire life, so he had never once met an imperial emperor.
Yes, that was how it should be.
It should have been.
“Nataman!! What the hell do you think you’re doing!!”
Then why was a situation like this happening?
Alon looked ahead.
There stood Nataman, smiling pleasantly with his fist buried in the face of his own brother, Contanias.
“What do you mean, what am I doing? I was correcting my brother’s manners.”
“Ha—”
A hollow laugh burst from Contanias’s mouth.
But then his face twisted like a wrathful demon.
“A worthless idiot who couldn’t even hold on to a single scrap of the territory he got his share of is spouting that kind of bullshit at me!?”
“As I told you yesterday, it was a strategic retreat. I ‘intentionally’ reduced it, you know?”
He looked ready to lunge at him right away, but—
Snap!
unfortunately, the skull mask’s snapped fingers cut him off.
“As I have said several times already, the Seeker does not wish for the defeated kings to start pointless quarrels.”
The mask warned him politely.
Nataman, who had been looking at the spot where Contanias disappeared, turned back with that same warm smile at the corner of his lips and answered,
“My apologies. Seeing such an ill-mannered brother got to me, and my hand moved before I realized it.”
Nataman scratched the back of his head with a smooth, easy manner, like he was saying, Haha, well, look at that. I made a little mistake.
The expressions of those watching him turned complicated.
“I’ll apologize on my brother’s behalf.”
And as if that still were not enough, Nataman bowed his head.
Alon answered,
“...No, there’s no need for that.”
“How magnanimous of you!”
...It was less that he was being magnanimous and more that Nataman had launched Contanias away before Alon even had time to react.
For now, Alon simply nodded.
Nataman nodded back, then turned and disappeared beyond the door.
Alon stared blankly at his retreating figure for only a moment.
“Well now, I wondered who it might be, but I suppose you really are the one at the center of all those rumors.”
At the voice, Alon turned his gaze.
There stood the two women who had been seated with Nataman and Contanias just moments ago.
One wore a subtle smile.
The other watched Alon expressionlessly, as if quietly sizing him up.
Looking at the two figures who ruled the Eastern Empire and the Southern Empire respectively, Alon instinctively pulled information from the back of his mind.
'The shorter one is Serdea Polanticia, the imperial princess of the Eastern Empire... and the taller one must be Airinna Polanticia, the imperial princess of the Southern Empire.'
Both had brilliant golden hair, yet the atmosphere each gave off was completely different.
While Alon was thinking that—
“Mm. But this doesn’t seem like the right time for a conversation.”
With those words, Serdea Polanticia quickly turned and headed in the same direction Nataman had gone.
“Brother.”
“Yes?”
“Do you happen to know the imperial prince?”
Asked a question that practically invited a Pardon? Me? from Yuman, Alon left his seat as well.
Yutia, who had naturally fallen into step beside him as they exited the conference chamber, turned to look behind her.
To the place where Nataman and the imperial princesses had just disappeared.
And then—
“...Why didn’t it work?”
—the skull mask was also staring quietly at the place where Nataman had been, murmuring to itself.
While alternately looking down at its own fingers.
The next day.
When Alon attended the meeting again, unlike yesterday, a great many eyes turned toward him.
The strongest among them were curious gazes.
The next most noticeable were looks dripping with hatred, even though Alon had not done a single thing.
Still, perhaps because they had been warned in one way or another yesterday, none of them made any overt move beyond glaring at him.
Alon let out a sigh inwardly and looked to the side.
Siyan was there.
Siyan was looking at Alon with a smile whose meaning he could not read.
Truthfully, after yesterday’s so-called opening ceremony—which could barely even be called a meeting—he had meant to speak with her, but she had disappeared immediately.
'I’ll have to talk to her today.'
Just as he was thinking that—
Hummm—
along with a small pulse of magical power, a black shadow appeared in the high seat at the very front and soon began to take shape.
This was clearly different from yesterday.
The kings of each nation turned their eyes toward it.
Then, after a brief moment, a man appeared in the high seat.
To call the man alive felt deeply strange.
His skin was so grayish-white it looked like he was practically a corpse, and in his eyes were eerie markings in place of human pupils.
And—
at the sight of that form, Alon involuntarily swallowed.
The people gathered here all saw the Seeker differently.
Some with curiosity.
Some with interest.
Some with suspicion.
Countless emotions flickered chaotically through the room.
But Alon felt something else as he looked at the Seeker.
Pressure.
The kings gathered here did not seem to feel it, but Alon felt pressure from the Seeker’s mere appearance alone.
That thing in front of him was dangerous.
A sin?
No.
Divine blood?
No.
What was seated there now—
looked more dangerous than any being Alon had personally encountered up to this point.
So the instant Alon’s breath caught—
the man blinked once or twice, as if he had only then come fully to himself, and slowly swept his gaze across the conference chamber.
Then, the moment he spotted Alon, a strange light flickered in his eyes, and he lightly tapped a finger.
Ssssh—
And with that, the pressure Alon had felt just moments ago slowly began to fade away.
Before Alon even had time to be startled by the sudden change—
“You who have not forgotten the covenant of centuries and have come all the way here, welcome. I am the Seeker.”
He began to speak.
At the brief self-introduction, murmurs rose all around them.
One of those gathered raised a hand as if waiting for that very moment and was about to speak, but—
“I imagine everyone gathered here has many questions. I’ll take them later. For now, there is something more important than that.”
The one who had introduced himself as the Seeker went on speaking as though he had no intention of taking questions.
“As those of «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» you who have come here already know, the continent is currently in grave danger because of the ‘dregs of god’ that have fallen— in other words, Divine blood. Some of you likely already know this, but—”
The Seeker cast a glance around the room.
“—if Divine blood are not stopped, the continent will perish.”
At those words, tension bloomed for an instant in the once-disordered room.
“I do not know how each of you feels about this situation. Some of you may think it will simply pass. Others may even try to profit by making use of such Divine blood.”
“But remember this well. Divine blood are beings that came to destroy the continent. No matter what you think, that fact does not change.”
With a flat, emotionless voice, the Seeker looked over the gathering.
“It is not merely that a flourishing kingdom will fall.”
“It is not merely that a flourishing empire will fall.”
“This land, where countless empires have risen and vanished, where countless kingdoms have risen and vanished—”
—he continued,
“—it is you yourselves who will disappear. Without history. Without even a trace.”
At that, the kings each wore different expressions.
Some looked as though they could not believe it.
Some looked shocked.
Some were trying to grasp the situation as a whole.
And the Seeker, who had calmly observed them all, said,
“That is why, in accordance with the Seeker’s Contract, I intend to grant you power. Power for you humans to fight Divine blood.”
Emphasizing the last words, he snapped his fingers.
Wooooong—!
Then, accompanied by a tremendous resonant hum,
a massive sphere appeared in the center of the empty table.
A sphere that looked similar to the faith Alon had been using often lately.
The enormous sphere instantly split into tiny fragments.
“What—!”
And began to be drawn into the bodies of the kings seated in their places.
The kings only had time to show startled expressions for a moment.
After confirming that the power had been absorbed in an instant, before anyone could resist or even say anything—
the Seeker said evenly,
“In accordance with the contract, I have granted you ‘possibility.’ From this point on, I will tell each of you, one by one, the location of the secret treasure by which you may wield that possibility.”
Just as he had appeared, the Seeker vanished from his seat in an instant.
Those gathered were thrown into confusion.
But then—
“From here on, I will guide you.”
As if it had been waiting for exactly this, the skull mask stepped forward once again and took its place where the Seeker had been standing.
Then it led the king seated in front out of the room first, apparently to guide them somewhere.
In the unsettled atmosphere left behind by the Seeker and the mask disappearing in an instant—
“...Brother.”
Yuman suddenly spoke.
“What is it, Saint?”
“...Was what entered our bodies just now... magical power?”
Alon hesitated.
In truth, since the skull mask had left, Alon too had been thinking about the energy that had seeped into his body.
Still, he could not answer Yuman’s question easily.
Because even he could not properly determine what exactly had entered him.
'...It’s vague.'
Alon called to mind the energy that had entered his body.
It definitely was not magical power.
But at the same time, it would have been strange to call it divine power either.
“I don’t think it was magical power...”
“Is that so.”
Murmuring that, Yuman fell briefly into thought before speaking honestly.
“To be frank, I’m a little worried.”
“Are you?”
“Yes. I came because Rosario, too, preserves important records of the Seeker’s Contract, if only in old texts... but a power that is neither faith nor magical power?”
Alon agreed that it sounded suspicious.
He did not think the odds were very high that the Seeker was an enemy of the people gathered here.
Neither from the setting Alon knew nor from the records preserved in each country was the Seeker described as a dangerous figure.
But as Yuman said, there was no denying that they had received some kind of suspicious power.
So, just in case, Alon looked at Yutia.
“I’m sorry, Teacher. This... I don’t really know either.”
“...I see.”
“I’m sorry, Teacher.”
“No, there’s no need for that.”
Alon meant it.
There was no way Yutia could know the truth behind that sphere.
Like Alon, this had to be her first time experiencing something like this.
...Unless she was living through a second run, that is.
For some reason, Alon felt one corner of his heart ease at the thought, but—
“You there.”
At the voice, he turned his head forward.
Standing there was Serdea Polanticia, the imperial princess of the Eastern Empire, who had worn that strange smile when looking at Alon yesterday.
Looking at him with a faintly playful expression, she hesitated a moment, then asked,
“Do you know much about me?”
It was a question whose meaning Alon could not grasp.
But it was not difficult to answer.
“...I know that you are Lady Serdea Polanticia, who leads the Eastern Empire.”
That was how Alon replied.
“Mmm—”
At that, Serdea nodded with a satisfied smile.
“If you already know who I am, then that makes things pleasantly quick.”
“...What?”
“I’ll be direct.”
She added.
Before Alon could even understand what she meant—
“Would you become my husband?”
Serdea asked Alon.

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