Chapter 249

Of course not.

At the sudden thought that struck me, I was so shocked that I couldn’t even hide my expression, leaving me speechless.

“…Swoen?”

Even without me trying to hint at anything, Serpina somehow read my mind like a psychic.

And besides, I wasn’t exactly hiding my inner turmoil right now, was I? It made perfect sense that she would look at me with a puzzled expression.

“Uh… please wait for a moment, Lady Serpina.”

Instead of replying or questioning me, she slowly nodded her head.

I need to gather my thoughts. To confirm if this sudden idea is true, I need some pieces of information. What kind of question could pull out those ‘pieces’?

A question related to military strategy that Divinity 100’s intellect can answer while also confirming my suspicion—if helping the territorial people truly benefits our nation…

“…My lord. Would you kindly ask if it’s efficient to deploy troops near Kelshtain Castle to conduct relief operations for plague victims?”

Kelshtain Castle is near the borderline. While soldiers might not understand, it would undoubtedly be helpful for our army’s territorial people.

She looked at me worriedly for asking such an unexpected question but repeated it as instructed without hesitation.

“…What do you think about deploying troops near Kelshtain Castle to assist plague victims?”

The Divinity 100 brain responded instantly, just like always, representing the position of my affiliated nation.

[It’s a decision that yields absolutely no gain in any aspect.]

—Ah.

Now I get it.

Why rumors about Serpina have been spreading. Why, despite her making decisions to save the territorial people, there’s still this feeling that these rumors can’t be resolved.

Because once that phrase “in any aspect” came up, it was already decided. If she acted on something like this—meaning, if Serpina spreading the plague was merely a false rumor and she was actually working hard on humanitarian aid despite her country remaining largely unaffected by the plague—it could slightly improve her damaged reputation.

If improving the territorial people’s evaluation of their monarch benefited the state, there’s no way such a firm response would come out. A more indirect reply like “Not really” would’ve been expected.

But the razor-sharp result means…

Yeah.

My prediction… represents the stance of my , not myself.

We lost four territories. In return, the Aishias Army, which had the potential to become a dangerous rival, collapsed. On top of that, the Chel Army got swept away, and with the plague spreading, the Central Continent turned into chaos.

‘This wasn’t all of it.’

And…

The hearts of the people, which would most hinder our unification under our banner—Serpina’s popularity—were utterly shattered by misunderstandings that seemed impossible to reverse.

I felt like throwing up…

‘This… was the predicted outcome…!!!’

I accepted my prediction.

* * *

For a long time, we stood silently in the royal palace, saying nothing.

My prediction was the best choice for the Serpina Army—but not necessarily for Serpina as a person.

As I recalled the harsh results of that prediction again, I fell into deep thought.

‘Should I blame myself for being complacent?’

No matter how objectively I tried to think, detecting this would’ve required divine insight beyond human capability.

While blaming oneself before others is certainly constructive, excessive self-blame isn’t always the answer, especially in moments like this.

I had to protect Serpina.

This was significant to me for two reasons:

First, it was keeping my promise to Luna.

Second, it was what I wanted.

It didn’t matter if the Serpina Army got closer to unifying the continent.

What’s the point of sacrificing Serpina to unify this country?

It just felt unfair, even though none of this was my fault.

Following the strategist’s efficient plans only ended up strangling the monarch.

Despite knowing full well she’d bear the filth, she willingly chose to save others.

Is this… the price?

“…Swoen.”

“Ahh…”

Hearing Serpina’s voice nearby, I managed to regain my senses.

“My lord…?”

Only then did I notice—I was trembling.

And—

Serpina extended her snow-white hand and gently wiped my cheek.

No, she wasn’t just brushing it off. She was—

“Why are you crying, Swoen?”

She was wiping away tears I hadn’t even noticed.

“…My lord.”

“Why are you looking so sorrowful?”

Caught up in spiraling thoughts, I hadn’t realized my own condition until now. All I did was ask a simple question, then suddenly put on a serious face, shaking and shedding tears.

I…

What should I say?

The moment I realized I was crying…

The moment I noticed Serpina was so close to me…

Naturally, it felt like the right thing to do.

“…!!!”

I pulled her into my arms.

“…Lady Serpina.”

So shamelessly…

Without permission, I committed an unforgivable breach of etiquette by embracing my liege.

“Lady Serpina has done nothing wrong.”

Words burst forth from my chest, unfiltered.

“Lady Serpina… you’re not the tyrant you’re accused of being.”

I gripped her tighter.

These words were meant for her… and for myself.

“No matter what, a ruler who uses their position to save lives cannot be a tyrant.”

“Swoen…”

She called my name once, then paused, before slowly burying her head into my chest.

Then she wrapped her arms around me.

“…”

I could feel her body trembling.

I sensed warmth against my chest.

She… was crying.

Just like me, she was crying.

I leaned my face against her head, slowly accepting her.

It’s warm.

The scent of yuzu fills the air, warming my heart.

I… must protect her.

Right now, all I could think about was that. Nothing else mattered as long as I could protect her.

To be honest, I don’t know why I felt the urge to embrace Serpina in that moment.

Even after days or years pass, I may never fully understand how I felt back then.

Still, I won’t regret this action—not even on my deathbed.

Afterward, we stayed like that, holding each other as if we were puzzle pieces finally reunited.

It was lucky for me that no one entered the royal palace during this time.

* * *

Later.

Once we’d calmed down somewhat, Serpina and I sat leaning against a pillar in the royal palace, taking a comfortable position on the floor.

While it might seem problematic for outsiders to see the monarch sitting on the floor instead of the throne, both of us knew that formalities weren’t important right now.

“Swoen.”

“Yes, my lord?”

“I’m curious about the question you asked me earlier. Could you explain why you requested that specific inquiry?”

“…”

I hesitated for a moment.

If I told her the truth, it would mean telling her directly: “Lady Serpina, you yourself are the biggest obstacle to the Serpina Army’s unification.”

So, I blatantly lied.

“Because it’s the most efficient method for our army.”

“…Why?”

“Perhaps it could suppress the rumors to some extent.”

Based on the recent prediction, I could confidently say that.

“The statement ‘no gain in any aspect’ implies your reputation improving.”

And my assertion was confirmed by her next words.

“…Didn’t I tell you, Swoen? Even among the northern territorial people, where my evaluations are already low, mobilizing soldiers who will surely fear catching the plague for such relief efforts… will only lead to more negative stories, not suppressing rumors. No matter what you think… that’s the reality.”

-Hah.

Somehow, I managed to suppress the urge to let out a hollow laugh and once again understood the weight behind Divinity 100’s meaning.

It really does produce only terrifyingly accurate statements.

“No. The soldiers will be fine. And everything will be resolved with this.”

Saying that, I smiled at Serpina.

In the most confident tone possible, as if to say, “Why worry about such things?”

“Have you forgotten, my lord? I possess—”

—the ability of the Mind’s Eye.

* * *