“Mi-, Milord…!”
From the side, Jinoru exclaimed in shock, but Yuri didn’t even turn her head in his direction. Instead, she spoke coldly.
“What’s wrong? Didn’t you hear me? I’ll do things your way, so release Anima.”
Upon hearing this, the envoy responded just as dryly and expressionlessly as when they had first arrived.
“Understood. It pleases us to deal with someone reasonable. I will certainly relay Lord Yuri’s decision to our master. Farewell.”
With that, Serpina’s envoy slowly exited the room. Jinoru and a few other armed men who hadn’t fully grasped the situation yet were left staring around in confusion.
‘What… what is happening right now?!’
Frankly speaking, if it was about giving up a territory, Yuri could understand that much. Sure. Even handing over an entire castle might seem like overpaying, but objectively, Anima Ingram wasn’t irreplaceable. She was a trusted commander, deeply loyal, one of the founding heroes who had helped Yuri establish the nation, and someone she relied on immensely—a person whose back could be trusted entirely in these chaotic times.
Though losing the territory might sting, considering the current state of the country, maintaining all three castles would be impossible anyway. Whether it was Raclaine or Jestrom, handing over one castle wouldn’t prevent them from rebuilding their power base…
That was Jinoru’s judgment.
However, surrendering the envoy was a different matter entirely.
It wasn’t merely because Swen seemed sharp, talented, and an excellent commander—it went beyond that. To Jinoru, Swen was far more valuable than Anima. No matter how highly regarded Swen was in the nation, this belief wouldn’t change.
But that wasn’t the decisive reason why Swen shouldn’t be handed over. Even if he were a useless commander—someone with no future prospects, someone deemed unreliable—it still shouldn’t happen. In this world, regardless of how chaotic things got, where could you find a warlord who sold out their loyal subordinates to the enemy?
This wasn’t just about basic human decency.
While Jinoru didn’t deny values like compassion, humanity, or empathy, he wasn’t the type to let such principles guide his actions. He preferred exploiting them rather than basing decisions on them. The real issue here was the impact such an action would have on other commanders—it was something that absolutely shouldn’t be done.
Even if the situation were reversed—if Swen had demanded Anima’s sacrifice—that too would’ve been unacceptable. Sacrificing any unnamed commander for Anima should never occur either.
At least, not for a ruler.
If the leader wasn’t some bandit chief but the monarch of a nation, they ought to act accordingly, right?
“Milord! I understand your momentary wavering, but you must retract this order immediately. We need to capture the envoy!”
“…”
Without responding, Yuri stood there silently as Jinoru continued urgently.
“What are you doing?! Bring Serpina’s envoy back here at once!”
“But…”
“I said hurry! I’ll take responsibility!”
Despite Jinoru’s insistence, Yuri made no move to stop him. She surely understood the implications of her actions.
And then, at that moment—
“There’s no need!”
A woman’s voice called out from afar. Epinal Rosenkross, the de facto second-in-command of the Aishias Army.
“General Epinal!”
“Forgive my rudeness, Lord Jinoru. The situation has become quite complicated.”
She approached Jinoru calmly.
“The cunning Serpina warned us that if we refused this proposal, Anima would be executed immediately.”
“…?”
Hearing this unexpected story, Jinoru glanced at Yuri, who blinked slightly in surprise. That alone told him: Epinal was lying.
“Advisor, am I not addressing you directly? Please focus on what I’m saying.”
Epinal redirected Jinoru’s attention back to herself.
“It seems Swen has somehow offended Serpina. They currently have him imprisoned as an envoy. This is coercion. No matter what we say, we won’t get Swen back.”
“In that case, why would they bother making such a proposal?”
“What other reason could there be? It’s probably a test.”
“A test?”
“They’re testing whether we’ll obey their commands. Isn’t that how Serpina operates? There’s nothing we can gain by resisting here.”
So… Swen was already captured, facing certain death—and this was just a test to see how their army would react?
Would they abandon territory and wealth just to ask such a question?
If the opponent were Lin Brance, someone known for paranoia and sinister behavior, Jinoru might’ve believed it. After all, Lin occasionally acted unreasonably. And as the only daughter of Orlando Brance, she wasn’t exactly someone people trusted easily.
But Serpina was different.
No matter how tyrannical or witch-like she might be, she wasn’t called a “Conqueror” for nothing. Many generals under the imperial family followed her willingly—not out of obligation, but because she proved her capabilities. Her abilities weren’t defined solely by her lineage; she earned respect through her own strength. Though she did eliminate her siblings during her rise to power, it was due to excessive cruelty, not incompetence.
Would someone like her really make a pointless offer just to observe their reactions?
Especially when proper negotiation could secure them a territory—why go through all this trouble?
If Serpina truly harbored hatred toward Swen…
Why not simply capture and kill him outright instead of proposing anything?
Breaking from thought, Epinal spoke coldly to Jinoru.
“Didn’t you always preach about survival strategies for weaker nations? This is part of it. What choice do we have against the overwhelming force of Serpina’s army? All we can do is save one life. Surely you understand, Advisor?”
“…”
Her tone betrayed occasional glimpses of raw emotion, though there was no regret. If anything, it was refreshing. Dealing with someone transparent was easier than navigating the depths of someone inscrutable.
Turning to the soldiers, Epinal declared:
“Listen up! Serpina’s forces have unjustly imprisoned our envoy and are attempting to disrupt our morale with meaningless questions. For now, we must endure. But we will grow stronger and exact revenge someday. Understood?”
Ah, now it made sense why she showed up here at this critical moment.
Yuri’s decision was incomprehensible to anyone but the most oblivious general. Of course, backlash was inevitable. Worse, it could lead to mass resignations among commanders and shake the very foundation of national discipline.
Thus, they were fabricating a scenario—”There was no other option.” Given Serpina’s reputation for brutality, such an explanation held weight.
This fabrication would help quell the chaos caused by the decision. In this nation, the influence of founding heroes ran deep.
Normally, Yuri wouldn’t resort to lies to escape a predicament. She’d likely stand firm by her judgment. This strategy must’ve been Epinal’s idea. Objectively speaking, she was invaluable in compensating for the ruler’s shortcomings.
‘Still, there will be repercussions.’
Any intelligent vassal would notice inconsistencies.
Now, with no way to cover everything up—
Jinoru returned to the fundamental question.
What does Serpina gain from this decision?
The claim that they targeted Swen out of hatred lacks credibility.
Therefore, focusing solely on the conclusion—
Serpina forfeited the chance to acquire territory…
For what?
—To obtain Swen.
‘Could Serpina’s true target be Swen himself?’
Indeed.
Assuming they knew his true potential—if Yuri were in their position, she’d prioritize securing Swen over mere land.
And the instant Jinoru recalled Swen’s “abilities”—
KABOOM!
It felt like someone had smacked him upside the head.
‘What if… all of this was Swen’s plan?’
Swen possessed the rumored ability to foresee the future. While lacking concrete evidence, Swen consistently demonstrated uncanny foresight, making decisions that seemed impossible without knowing the outcome. His thinking process mirrored someone who knew the results but couldn’t predict specifics.
Moreover, volunteering as an envoy wasn’t Yuri’s decision—it was Swen’s own choice. Hadn’t he insisted, “I’ll go”? Perhaps Swen foresaw everything leading up to this moment.
Would someone willingly submit themselves just to be sold?
Absolutely not.
As the pieces clicked into place, the conclusion became clear.
‘Moving to Serpina’s side… must’ve appeared as the most efficient path forward according to Swen’s vision!’
Glancing sideways, Jinoru observed Yuri, lips sealed, looking utterly flustered despite Epinal’s frantic damage control.
Finally, Jinoru realized something crucial.
His lord, Baranga Yuri Aishias, was fundamentally incapable of achieving dominance over the continent.
The silver lining?
They had sent Reika along with Swen. If Serpina truly wanted Swen, they wouldn’t dare harm Reika. This ensured a connection remained, even if Swen joined Serpina’s ranks. Once Reika reported back, they could subtly inquire about Swen’s intentions.
Until then, maintaining enmity with Aishias would suffice.
‘It’s time to start exploring other options.’
The continent didn’t require Yuri to achieve unification. If she continued making emotionally-driven, foolish choices, letting go might be the best course of action.
Such was the conclusion reached by Jinoru, the renowned Sage of the Continent.