Johanna's silver-white hair slowly swayed as she shook her head in denial on my behalf.
“That’s not what I want. Neither you, Princess, nor him.”
"He will return to his original position and carry out his long-held plan. He must do so if a new era is to dawn."
Giving up also requires a lot of courage.
A person possessed by a deep yearning can never maintain their center. Far from maintaining a fair and impartial perspective, they will be blinded by all manner of variables, worries, and fears. In an age of loss, where the state takes precedence over individual freedom, and where far more people die than are born, someone must shoulder the immeasurable weight of sin to prevent tragedy and correct misjudgments. Couldn't we prevent a tragedy that could unfold across the ocean, on the other side of the world? I continued, my voice composed, bearing the weight of choice.
"Johanna, you don't have to follow my choice. I intend to stop the tragedy that will unfold, but people will still die."
We cannot prevent the large-scale air and sea battles and air raids that will kill civilians that will occur in the future.
Even if an evacuation warning is issued under international law during wartime, they are unlikely to be fooled by the lies of the Frogen government and flee. They will die for the crime of believing their country was right, unaware that they were citizens of the aggressor nation involved in the war. The cost and damage of ignorance are purely personal matters, and far from sympathy, they will be ridiculed for reaping what they sow. I, who always considered myself a victim, am also one of the perpetrators, a key member of an imperialist nation, complicit in this tragedy.
"Princess. I became a soldier, willing to take on all the consequences. I'm sure I'll be punished by God. But even if I'm punished, I want to save my precious ones and stay alive with them."
Johanna reached out and pulled me into her arms. I could hear the beating of her heart as she rose and fell. It was pleasant to hear the rhythmic pulse that confirmed the life and breathing of the person before me. She asked.
“Is the Princess also trying to save him with that kind of heart?”
I looked into Johanna's blue eyes. Eyes that searched for a way to survive despite the violence the world inflicted on them. Eyes that had been washed with intense sorrow, yet clearer. She spoke, barely holding back tears.
“Because you are someone so precious that I would trade you for the whole world.”
"That's right. Even if I lose everything, I want to leave behind just one thing I long for. I don't care if we never see each other again."
She, who had lost more than I had, tried to comfort me instead.
"Princess, Miss Barbara said so. As long as you're alive, there's no failure, and you can always try again. So, humans overcome despair and rise again to find another chance to choose."
Barbara's dying words. When I die, everything ends, regardless of whether I've failed or succeeded. I leaned against her, my arm hanging limply, wearing the loyalty bracelet Barbara had given me. I looked listless and collected, but it was more like I was lost in a despair that surpassed all the pain I'd ever felt. She added.
"If we break the cycle of tragedy, won't we find new opportunities? We'll meet again someday. As long as we live."
Johanna laughed pleasantly. Her small body, wrapped around me, swayed to the sound of her laughter.
"I will follow your will, Princess. I will depart for the United States of Eugene with Captain Noah Rotsilt, who is at the front line."
Only then did I laugh.
"Thank you, Johanna. You don't have to be an apostle of justice. It's better to live a cowardly life than die a noble death. You don't have to sacrifice your personal life for a greater cause."
The unprecedented bombing dealt a significant blow to Medea's industry, military, road network, and production, but the risks of returning to Frogen were equally undeniable. The conquering allies were appalled by Frogen's blatant bombing of Medea's homeland.
In particular, the leader of the Lenin Federal Republic expressed great regret over Frogen's arbitrary actions.
Even if Francia and Belford were already in a state of deep internal division, and thus could have been overthrown, Medea remained a viable maritime power, even defending itself against economic depression. This was due to a major setback in the plan to contain the great powers and subjugate the collapsing nations.
Emperor Meyer III ignored the advice of his finance minister and other ministers, who warned that he could no longer afford the costs of further war and that his country's economy was already strained and he would be unable to withstand a retaliatory bombing attack. In fact, he even convened a meeting to discuss a second airstrike.
"Your Majesty, even if the Frogen Empire possesses the world's finest weapons and combat power, isn't this nation geographically disadvantaged and resource-deficient? Splitting the front lines into three and pouring our resources into them is a grave mistake. Medea is likely waiting for an attack on the mainland, seeking a large indemnity. If that happens, Frogen's defeat and collapse are certain..."
Someone's realistic objection was silenced by a sharp gunshot. Everyone's mouths dropped open as the head of the shot slammed against the conference table, but no sound came out.
The only thing filling the vast conference hall was the Emperor's mocking voice.
"Defeat? Tell me again, are you saying the great Frogen Empire has lost?"
The Emperor's mad eyes gleamed as he twirled his pistol, his finger on the trigger. Soon, loud laughter erupted, shaking the room. The Emperor, laughing so hard his forehead grew veins and his face flushed, rubbed his eyes with the back of his pistol-holding hand and spoke gleefully.
"Ah, I can't answer. I'm already dead. Just like my son, who used to nag and rant. Everyone, feel free to say whatever you want. I hope it doesn't offend me. This will be my last will and testament."
The ministers exchanged silent messages, watching each other closely. They had long known that the Emperor leading the empire was in a precarious state. Ever since Crown Prince Sebastian was captured and executed, he had become utterly deranged. The court ladies testified that he would mutter to himself in his bedroom every night, calling out the Crown Prince's name.
The ministers clearly felt the need for a new leader to replace the now-mad, useless Brain Emperor, but faced with his omnipotent power, they were powerless. They simply hoped someone would step forward. More specifically, they hoped for a coup—a revolution, a rebellion, an assassination. Mastiff, sitting in the conference room, sneered at them as they fiercely debated their options.
Returning from the palace to his own mansion, Mastiff sat on the sofa and lit a cigar. His expression was impassive, but his turquoise eyes, the color of flame, seemed to glow like boiling molten iron.
He lifted his sharp chin, ran his hand through his golden hair, and exhaled a thick puff of smoke like a sigh. A man who had been quietly watching him muttered a quiet sigh.
"Even if Princess Medea was a corporate raider... Since it's clear that Noah Rotsilt gave the Princess and emerging-market capitalists bonds at a low price, if things continue this way, he'll become everyone's target. Not only Frogen, but also the Queen of Medea, who's trying to protect the Princess."
He was Cesare Andrea Conrad, the eldest son of Duke Conrad, who had become the head of the Belford puppet government. He had flaxen hair and dull green eyes, just like his father. Mastiff's brow furrowed at Cesare's words, predicting Noah's death. It was clearly Princess Medea who had caused the private companies to go bankrupt to monetize the bonds, and she was the target of immediate elimination. However, with her now under strong protection, the Emperor became convinced that Noah had intended to protect the Princess. He had concluded that the previous outcome had also been planned by him, and that he was now completely on Medea's side.
"Are you still insisting this wasn't an act of betrayal, but part of a strategy? Bring Noah Rotsilt to me immediately, Mastiff. I'll feel better if I hear it from him directly. Otherwise, I'll consider you complicit and kill you first."
Mastiff gritted his teeth, recalling the Emperor's fury as he commanded. He realized that Noah had turned his arrows on himself and muttered in a dejected voice.
"I gave him a chance to come back, and he threw it away like that. He must be crazy about women."
"I think that's possible. I've had similar experiences. It's certainly difficult to be rational. The Emperor, who was so cold to his son that he wouldn't even agree to a prisoner exchange, completely lost his mind when he heard the news of his death."
Cesare's eyes, hidden behind his clear glasses, darkened. He was thinking of her older sister, Celine. The woman he had written countless letters to, but never even replied. The pitiful woman who married a man who didn't love her, and ultimately perished in a bombing. He loved Celine. If Princess Diana hadn't been involved, she might have come to him, weary of a man who didn't love her. Just as Cesare's yearning faded after watching with longing, the smoke from the cigar in Mastiff's hand faded. Mastiff, tossing the extinguished cigar into the fireplace, remembered Diana's indifferent gray-green eyes as she stabbed the fork blade into the back of his hand.
"The Princess is no ordinary person. She fed the dog I planted to her full capacity and then threw her in prison."
“I also have someone planted in Medea, and I have recently planted a new person.”
“Yes, what do you think?”
"Now that things have come to this, we must create a pretext for Noah Rotsilt to return. If things continue this way, the Emperor's vengeful, clouded judgment will lead to the collapse of the great Frogen Empire. Everyone knows that the Empire desperately needs him."
Cesare, who had been sighing with his eyes closed, added with an expressionless face.
"If the Princess dies at the hands of Medea, there's no need for protective laws or regulations. Even Noah Rotsilt would turn against Medea. Furthermore, the Emperor's judgment is clouded, and he's a man who values only the results, regardless of the means. He might even accept that it was all part of a plan."
"It was Noah Rotsilt's long-held plan to kill Medea's successor, so to speak. The Emperor is very emotional about that woman."
If he unleashed the great thing he had in his head and brought down Medea and the Allies, Mastiff's eyebrows rose. Somewhere in his subconscious, a faint voice was urging him to stop, holding him back.
“Lady Diana is a good person. She was kind to me when I was alone.”
Cesare, who had been staring at him with a frown as if he had a migraine and remained silent, concluded in a dry tone.
"Yes. Dealing with Princess Diana is the top priority. If you want to become the leader of the Frogens, Major."
Mastiff tilted his chin and stared into the corner of the study. His gaze landed on a one-eyed cat doll sitting on the bookshelf.
“There are people I want to protect, too. One is Lady Diana, and the other is...”
She's dead. What's the use?
Mastiff's mouth twisted as he remembered the poor woman with her loosely tied, jet-black hair, small lips, and pale cheeks. He couldn't understand why he was so angry. He picked up a crystal glass from the table and slammed it down, revealing a fierce expression as he muttered.
"Why is it all about her? Why would they all risk their lives for a single illegitimate child, just like me?"
Diana Spencer Grace. To Mastiff, she was a harmful presence and the source of all misfortune.
Now, even Noah Rotsilt is going to die. The thought is unbearable. He doesn't want to experience that humiliation, bordering on contempt, ever again. Even if he no longer needs him, even if he deems him useless. Dark red blood trickled down the hand that clutched the broken glass.
Mastiff's voice dropped sharply, giving him an eerie tone.
“I left her alone until now because she was my friend’s wife, but I guess it doesn’t matter anymore.”
Cesare nodded, adjusting his glasses.
"On the day of the second blitzkrieg, we will take advantage of the confusion and execute it."
“That’s not what I want. Neither you, Princess, nor him.”
"He will return to his original position and carry out his long-held plan. He must do so if a new era is to dawn."
Giving up also requires a lot of courage.
A person possessed by a deep yearning can never maintain their center. Far from maintaining a fair and impartial perspective, they will be blinded by all manner of variables, worries, and fears. In an age of loss, where the state takes precedence over individual freedom, and where far more people die than are born, someone must shoulder the immeasurable weight of sin to prevent tragedy and correct misjudgments. Couldn't we prevent a tragedy that could unfold across the ocean, on the other side of the world? I continued, my voice composed, bearing the weight of choice.
"Johanna, you don't have to follow my choice. I intend to stop the tragedy that will unfold, but people will still die."
We cannot prevent the large-scale air and sea battles and air raids that will kill civilians that will occur in the future.
Even if an evacuation warning is issued under international law during wartime, they are unlikely to be fooled by the lies of the Frogen government and flee. They will die for the crime of believing their country was right, unaware that they were citizens of the aggressor nation involved in the war. The cost and damage of ignorance are purely personal matters, and far from sympathy, they will be ridiculed for reaping what they sow. I, who always considered myself a victim, am also one of the perpetrators, a key member of an imperialist nation, complicit in this tragedy.
"Princess. I became a soldier, willing to take on all the consequences. I'm sure I'll be punished by God. But even if I'm punished, I want to save my precious ones and stay alive with them."
Johanna reached out and pulled me into her arms. I could hear the beating of her heart as she rose and fell. It was pleasant to hear the rhythmic pulse that confirmed the life and breathing of the person before me. She asked.
“Is the Princess also trying to save him with that kind of heart?”
I looked into Johanna's blue eyes. Eyes that searched for a way to survive despite the violence the world inflicted on them. Eyes that had been washed with intense sorrow, yet clearer. She spoke, barely holding back tears.
“Because you are someone so precious that I would trade you for the whole world.”
"That's right. Even if I lose everything, I want to leave behind just one thing I long for. I don't care if we never see each other again."
She, who had lost more than I had, tried to comfort me instead.
"Princess, Miss Barbara said so. As long as you're alive, there's no failure, and you can always try again. So, humans overcome despair and rise again to find another chance to choose."
Barbara's dying words. When I die, everything ends, regardless of whether I've failed or succeeded. I leaned against her, my arm hanging limply, wearing the loyalty bracelet Barbara had given me. I looked listless and collected, but it was more like I was lost in a despair that surpassed all the pain I'd ever felt. She added.
"If we break the cycle of tragedy, won't we find new opportunities? We'll meet again someday. As long as we live."
Johanna laughed pleasantly. Her small body, wrapped around me, swayed to the sound of her laughter.
"I will follow your will, Princess. I will depart for the United States of Eugene with Captain Noah Rotsilt, who is at the front line."
Only then did I laugh.
"Thank you, Johanna. You don't have to be an apostle of justice. It's better to live a cowardly life than die a noble death. You don't have to sacrifice your personal life for a greater cause."
***
The unprecedented bombing dealt a significant blow to Medea's industry, military, road network, and production, but the risks of returning to Frogen were equally undeniable. The conquering allies were appalled by Frogen's blatant bombing of Medea's homeland.
In particular, the leader of the Lenin Federal Republic expressed great regret over Frogen's arbitrary actions.
Even if Francia and Belford were already in a state of deep internal division, and thus could have been overthrown, Medea remained a viable maritime power, even defending itself against economic depression. This was due to a major setback in the plan to contain the great powers and subjugate the collapsing nations.
Emperor Meyer III ignored the advice of his finance minister and other ministers, who warned that he could no longer afford the costs of further war and that his country's economy was already strained and he would be unable to withstand a retaliatory bombing attack. In fact, he even convened a meeting to discuss a second airstrike.
"Your Majesty, even if the Frogen Empire possesses the world's finest weapons and combat power, isn't this nation geographically disadvantaged and resource-deficient? Splitting the front lines into three and pouring our resources into them is a grave mistake. Medea is likely waiting for an attack on the mainland, seeking a large indemnity. If that happens, Frogen's defeat and collapse are certain..."
Someone's realistic objection was silenced by a sharp gunshot. Everyone's mouths dropped open as the head of the shot slammed against the conference table, but no sound came out.
The only thing filling the vast conference hall was the Emperor's mocking voice.
"Defeat? Tell me again, are you saying the great Frogen Empire has lost?"
The Emperor's mad eyes gleamed as he twirled his pistol, his finger on the trigger. Soon, loud laughter erupted, shaking the room. The Emperor, laughing so hard his forehead grew veins and his face flushed, rubbed his eyes with the back of his pistol-holding hand and spoke gleefully.
"Ah, I can't answer. I'm already dead. Just like my son, who used to nag and rant. Everyone, feel free to say whatever you want. I hope it doesn't offend me. This will be my last will and testament."
The ministers exchanged silent messages, watching each other closely. They had long known that the Emperor leading the empire was in a precarious state. Ever since Crown Prince Sebastian was captured and executed, he had become utterly deranged. The court ladies testified that he would mutter to himself in his bedroom every night, calling out the Crown Prince's name.
The ministers clearly felt the need for a new leader to replace the now-mad, useless Brain Emperor, but faced with his omnipotent power, they were powerless. They simply hoped someone would step forward. More specifically, they hoped for a coup—a revolution, a rebellion, an assassination. Mastiff, sitting in the conference room, sneered at them as they fiercely debated their options.
Returning from the palace to his own mansion, Mastiff sat on the sofa and lit a cigar. His expression was impassive, but his turquoise eyes, the color of flame, seemed to glow like boiling molten iron.
He lifted his sharp chin, ran his hand through his golden hair, and exhaled a thick puff of smoke like a sigh. A man who had been quietly watching him muttered a quiet sigh.
"Even if Princess Medea was a corporate raider... Since it's clear that Noah Rotsilt gave the Princess and emerging-market capitalists bonds at a low price, if things continue this way, he'll become everyone's target. Not only Frogen, but also the Queen of Medea, who's trying to protect the Princess."
He was Cesare Andrea Conrad, the eldest son of Duke Conrad, who had become the head of the Belford puppet government. He had flaxen hair and dull green eyes, just like his father. Mastiff's brow furrowed at Cesare's words, predicting Noah's death. It was clearly Princess Medea who had caused the private companies to go bankrupt to monetize the bonds, and she was the target of immediate elimination. However, with her now under strong protection, the Emperor became convinced that Noah had intended to protect the Princess. He had concluded that the previous outcome had also been planned by him, and that he was now completely on Medea's side.
"Are you still insisting this wasn't an act of betrayal, but part of a strategy? Bring Noah Rotsilt to me immediately, Mastiff. I'll feel better if I hear it from him directly. Otherwise, I'll consider you complicit and kill you first."
Mastiff gritted his teeth, recalling the Emperor's fury as he commanded. He realized that Noah had turned his arrows on himself and muttered in a dejected voice.
"I gave him a chance to come back, and he threw it away like that. He must be crazy about women."
"I think that's possible. I've had similar experiences. It's certainly difficult to be rational. The Emperor, who was so cold to his son that he wouldn't even agree to a prisoner exchange, completely lost his mind when he heard the news of his death."
Cesare's eyes, hidden behind his clear glasses, darkened. He was thinking of her older sister, Celine. The woman he had written countless letters to, but never even replied. The pitiful woman who married a man who didn't love her, and ultimately perished in a bombing. He loved Celine. If Princess Diana hadn't been involved, she might have come to him, weary of a man who didn't love her. Just as Cesare's yearning faded after watching with longing, the smoke from the cigar in Mastiff's hand faded. Mastiff, tossing the extinguished cigar into the fireplace, remembered Diana's indifferent gray-green eyes as she stabbed the fork blade into the back of his hand.
"The Princess is no ordinary person. She fed the dog I planted to her full capacity and then threw her in prison."
“I also have someone planted in Medea, and I have recently planted a new person.”
“Yes, what do you think?”
"Now that things have come to this, we must create a pretext for Noah Rotsilt to return. If things continue this way, the Emperor's vengeful, clouded judgment will lead to the collapse of the great Frogen Empire. Everyone knows that the Empire desperately needs him."
Cesare, who had been sighing with his eyes closed, added with an expressionless face.
"If the Princess dies at the hands of Medea, there's no need for protective laws or regulations. Even Noah Rotsilt would turn against Medea. Furthermore, the Emperor's judgment is clouded, and he's a man who values only the results, regardless of the means. He might even accept that it was all part of a plan."
"It was Noah Rotsilt's long-held plan to kill Medea's successor, so to speak. The Emperor is very emotional about that woman."
If he unleashed the great thing he had in his head and brought down Medea and the Allies, Mastiff's eyebrows rose. Somewhere in his subconscious, a faint voice was urging him to stop, holding him back.
“Lady Diana is a good person. She was kind to me when I was alone.”
Cesare, who had been staring at him with a frown as if he had a migraine and remained silent, concluded in a dry tone.
"Yes. Dealing with Princess Diana is the top priority. If you want to become the leader of the Frogens, Major."
Mastiff tilted his chin and stared into the corner of the study. His gaze landed on a one-eyed cat doll sitting on the bookshelf.
“There are people I want to protect, too. One is Lady Diana, and the other is...”
She's dead. What's the use?
Mastiff's mouth twisted as he remembered the poor woman with her loosely tied, jet-black hair, small lips, and pale cheeks. He couldn't understand why he was so angry. He picked up a crystal glass from the table and slammed it down, revealing a fierce expression as he muttered.
"Why is it all about her? Why would they all risk their lives for a single illegitimate child, just like me?"
Diana Spencer Grace. To Mastiff, she was a harmful presence and the source of all misfortune.
Now, even Noah Rotsilt is going to die. The thought is unbearable. He doesn't want to experience that humiliation, bordering on contempt, ever again. Even if he no longer needs him, even if he deems him useless. Dark red blood trickled down the hand that clutched the broken glass.
Mastiff's voice dropped sharply, giving him an eerie tone.
“I left her alone until now because she was my friend’s wife, but I guess it doesn’t matter anymore.”
Cesare nodded, adjusting his glasses.
"On the day of the second blitzkrieg, we will take advantage of the confusion and execute it."
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