Chapter 94

* * *

Anyway, after making the prediction that “we’ll win no matter what,” while Iren became busier with increasingly intense training for future battles, my schedule hadn’t changed much. That was because of my duty to assist Lady Reika.

“Um… can skills really improve by doing something like this…?”

“Yes, they do. Haven’t you yourself noticed your abilities improving more than anyone else, Lady Reika?”

“Well, yeah, but… Ah! It’s not that I’m doubting you, Sir Swoen!”

What Reika and I were doing involved balancing on one foot while stretching our arms out in front and behind us. This was part of my attempts to avoid looking suspicious by meditating all day, so I’ve been trying various unconventional exercises—this pose being one of them.

Fortunately, despite these ridiculous practices, Reika’s strength continued to grow day by day. And the girl who had initially kept her heart closed off seemed to be opening up little by little, perhaps sensing some sort of camaraderie from following my eccentric training regimen. She started sharing bits of her story with me.

“So… you’ve just been staying inside the manor all this time?”

“Yes… Father wouldn’t let me go outside…”

After finishing what could only be called bizarre practice sessions, I found myself listening to her stories as part of my duties. We sat side by side in the garden, chatting casually.

“So then, when we first met, you really were sneaking out, weren’t you?”

“Eh? H-How did you know…?”

Reika looked genuinely surprised as she stared at me. Honestly, considering the atmosphere and subtle expressions back then, it wasn’t hard to piece together that conclusion.

“It’s just… you gave it away.”

“I see… uh…”

“It’s fine. I’m not going to scold you or anything now.”

…

Reika didn’t respond, instead burying half her face into her knees.

‘Hmm… why exactly does Jinoru keep Lady Reika locked up in the manor?’

From what I’d observed so far, Jinoru didn’t seem particularly affectionate toward Reika. He neither disliked her nor treated her lightly; rather, he regarded her more like an important strategic tool than a cherished daughter. He showed absolutely no concern for her personal life, focusing solely on her magical abilities.

But keeping her cooped up indoors felt strangely reminiscent of an overprotective father…

‘Is there some other reason?’

Just as I was pondering this, Reika broke the quiet air.

“…Still.”

“Still?”

“I’ve been happy lately. I got to go outside with Sir Swoen… getting stronger with magic was good, but since Father allowed it for the first time… so, in many ways… um… thank you?”

“You don’t have to explain further.”

I smiled at Reika, who hesitated to find the right words.

“I enjoyed it too. You’re someone worth teaching, Lady Reika.”

“A… Thank you…”

She said this quietly before once again hiding her face in her knees. Though I couldn’t see her expression, her ears were unmistakably bright red.

Speaking of which, a thought suddenly struck me.

“Right. Lady Reika.”

“Yes?”

“Have you thought about how to handle marriage proposals?”

“!!!”

With a jolt, Reika abruptly lifted her head and exclaimed in shock.

“Gyuh… m-m-marriage!”

“No, no. Just asking since the topic came up. You don’t need to decide right away, and you shouldn’t worry too much about it.”

I carefully chose my words to ensure she wouldn’t feel pressured.

“This is your life, after all. Whatever decision you make, I’ll relay it. If you refuse, just say so, and I’ll reject any marriage offers on your behalf.”

“…”

Reika remained silent, staring at me intently.

“Sir Swoen… what do you think…?”

“Huh?”

“Sir Swoen… Do you… want to marry… me?”

“…”

Was it just my imagination, or did her usually pink eyes seem unusually shiny?

And furthermore, was it just my imagination that I was hesitating to answer?

Marriage to Reika? There was nothing inherently bad about it. My way of thinking might not differ much from Jinoru’s earlier musings. After all, she was an excellent mage, and having ties with her would surely prove convenient.

Initially, my desire to get closer to her stemmed from thoughts like, “It’d be useful if Lunarien Army had a mage like Reika.”

But…

Had spending time with Reika changed something within me?

For some reason, it felt strangely difficult to blurt out a sly “Sure, sounds great!” response. It didn’t feel like the right way to address her feelings.

‘…’

I slowly examined her appearance. A girl who loved baking cakes but had no one to share them with, trapped inside the manor. Someone who dreamed of helping others through magic despite lacking proper companionship, yet never complained, quietly following even my absurd training regimens.

Perhaps now it was my turn to ask myself.

Do I want to marry Reika? Even if she weren’t a mage, would I consider her as a wife, as a lifelong partner?

“I… ”

At that exact moment, a familiar voice called out from behind.

“Swoen. There you are.”

An elderly man’s voice.

“Father…!”

“Jinoru-sama?”

The owner of the voice, Jinoru, gazed at us with an unusually serious expression. This was the first time he’d personally shown up during our training sessions.

“What’s the matter?”

“There’s something I wish to discuss with you… How’s today’s schedule looking?”

“All important matters are complete.”

“Good. Then I’d appreciate it if you could follow me for a bit.”

Jinoru spoke, then turned his gaze toward Reika, speaking in a stiff tone.

“You’ve worked hard today. Feel free to rest now.”

“…Yes, understood.”

Reika bowed respectfully to Jinoru before giving me a meaningful look. Though I regretted not answering her earlier, surely there’d be time later…

With that thought, I followed Jinoru to his study.

*

“Word has it that Raclaine Castle deployed troops?”

“Just received news from a messenger. They seem to have launched an attack on Hisfil Castle with over fifty thousand soldiers.”

Upon hearing Jinoru’s words, I fell deep into thought.

‘To initiate battle under these circumstances?’

Currently, Serpina Army is stationed near Jestrom Castle. With Hisfil Castle presumed empty due to their deployment, this must have been a calculated move. Not entirely a poor decision… but should we really be moving first?

Given our numerical disadvantage compared to Serpina Army, our strategy should focus less on expanding territory and more on conserving forces while defending existing lands.

“Did the Lord approve this action?”

“It seems not. Though, given the authority granted to Miss Anima, the Lord hasn’t raised any objections.”

‘…’

While I suspected this might be the case, actually hearing it left me feeling deflated. I recalled the eyes of Anima from our previous encounter. She wanted to help Yuri, and this decision likely stemmed from her desire to achieve something significant.

Our army will ultimately triumph against Serpina Army. After all, with Divinity 100 proclaiming ‘We will win,’ that outcome is already set in stone.

Yet, I couldn’t shake off the discomfort growing in my mind.

The result wasn’t simply [We will win], but rather [We will win—for now].

Could this scenario, including Anima acting independently, have been fully accounted for in the prediction?

Recalling the events at Jeilrant Castle made me suspect it might indeed have been foreseen.

We will win—for now.

We will prevail—for now…

‘Wait…’

Hold on.

Could it be… ‘We will win—for now’ means exactly that?

As if sensing my sudden realization, Jinoru asked me a question.

“Swoen. What’s your opinion? Is Miss Anima’s choice appropriate under these circumstances?”

‘Is Anima’s choice correct?’

Even inputting this question yields the same predictable result.

[Unknown.]

Just as I couldn’t predict whether Cham Army’s or Alepel Army’s strategies were sound earlier, my foresight fails to produce definitive answers unless asked point-blank.

But that doesn’t matter.

Since the predetermined outcome already exists, it suffices to base my thoughts on it.

“…”

“…Swoen?”

“Jinoru-sama, may I ask you a question before responding?”

“Ask me something? What’s on your mind?”

“It may seem unrelated, but please answer seriously. When do you use the word ‘for now’?”

“…What?”

Confused, Jinoru looked at me oddly. I repeated my query with utmost seriousness.

“Let me rephrase. Consider the sentence: ‘It will succeed—for now.’ What kind of follow-up statement do you think fits best?”

Jinoru stared at me for a long moment before finally speaking.

“For now we win… So, maybe it succeeds, but suggests another outcome besides winning?”

As I continued questioning Jinoru—

The vague discomfort I’d felt began crystallizing.

“Now, onto another question regarding the possible outcomes: Between [It will succeed—for now, along with additional positive results] and [It will succeed—for now, but negative consequences arise], which seems more natural to you? Assuming there’s a more efficient alternative available.”

“In that case, obviously the latter. If a better solution exists, as you suggest, it’s more logical to expect unfavorable results. But why are you asking this now?”

“Do you really think so?”

That’s precisely why I questioned him. Yes, I agree with that assessment. I’m not alone in thinking this way.

Upon hearing Jinoru’s response, another sentence sprang to mind.

My prediction wasn’t limited to [We will win—for now] against Serpina Army. There was also [Negotiate with Serpina Army. That’s the most efficient method].

If negotiations occur, the battle itself won’t happen. The army would retreat based on negotiation results.

Initially, I assumed ‘winning—for now’ referred to the unnecessary loss of soldiers in a conflict that could end peacefully.

Though it wasn’t a perfect explanation, it was the best conclusion I could draw from the information available at the time.

However, things change if Anima independently mobilized troops from Raclaine Castle. Given that Jestrom Castle’s battle isn’t concluded yet, assuming my predictions based on that fight hold true… only one outcome remains.

Standing up, I declared:

“We don’t have time. Can you accompany me to the Royal Palace immediately?”

“The Royal Palace? Right now?”

Addressing Jinoru, who appeared confused, I said with unprecedented seriousness:

“Lady Anima will lose this battle.”