Chapter 74

Around that time.

A messenger arrived from the Britannian independence forces who had entered the imperial territory, bearing a proposal for Philip’s ransom. And the ‘price for Philip’ they demanded was by no means mere gold or precious goods.

Food and weapons. Military supplies to continue waging war.

“My, what a pity, Count.”

Upon hearing this, Lady Scarlet opened her mouth with a sneer. The ransom the Britannian Independence Army demanded for Philip.

Military supplies.

Granting their demands is tantamount to admitting defeat in this war. It would provide the enemy, whose offensive is gradually nearing its end, with the capacity to continue fighting.

However, sacrificing the Count’s family’s reckless Philip here would effectively mean the immediate end of the proud Brandenburg Count’s lineage.

Above all, even if he could lay hands on the ‘virgin maiden,’ there was no guarantee that the ‘seed’ he planted within her would function properly. That was precisely why Philip, even if he was a good-for-nothing with not a shred of talent, still clung to life. It wasn’t because of any lingering affection between father and son.

But if they were to hand over military supplies to preserve the count’s lineage and get Philip back… the blame for the war’s defeat would fall squarely on the paladin’s shoulders. The entire empire would point fingers at him.

It was the worst possible dilemma.

“……”

The holy knight bit his lip until it bled. It was at that very moment.

“──We’ll pay the ransom and get Prince Philip back.”

Dale spoke up. At those unexpected words, the Holy Swordmaster momentarily doubted his own ears.

“What did you say?”

“It seems you’re weighing the responsibility for the Count’s family’s defeat against the consequences.”

Dale said. As if he could see right through the Holy Knight. It hit the nail on the head.

“But there is a way to save Prince Philip safely and avoid defeat in this war.”

“Wh-what…?”

Dale’s genius for military strategy, demonstrated long ago, was beyond doubt, even to the knights of the castle.

“Speak now.”

That was why the Sword Saint asked again.

“Ah, that is impossible.”

But Dale let out a cold sneer.

“After shoving me aside to monopolize the credit early on.”

“……!”

“Don’t you find that utterly shameless?”

The Holy Knight’s expression froze coldly.

“…State your demand.”

But now was no time for hesitation. Even if he was merely a 12-year-old brat, before the talent of the ‘Black Prince,’ even the world’s greatest swordsman would be powerless.

“Promise me two things.”

“What promises do you demand?”

“First, in all future battles and operations, you will obey my orders absolutely.”

In other words, officially appoint Dale as the supreme commander of this battle.

“Second, entrust the treatment of all prisoners captured in this battle entirely to my decision.”

“Ha!”

At those words, the Holy Knight burst out laughing in disbelief. How dare he spout such reckless nonsense before the world’s greatest war hero.

“How dare you, you insignificant brat, not know your place…!”

There are limits to how far one can overstep. Even if the eldest son of the Saxon family was a ‘military genius,’ he could not accept such an outrageous humiliation.

“Are you not afraid?”

But Dale retorted without a care.

“A future where the bloodline of the Count’s family vanishes into history, bearing the sole blame for defeat.”

With an expression as if peering into the heart of a holy knight.

“The nobility are truly a cunning and despicable lot, aren’t they?”

“…….”

“Even those who now hail the Count as the empire’s great war hero—it would take but a single trivial incident for that praise to turn to mockery.”

It hit the nail on the head.

“But there’s no need for concern.”

“What exactly is there to not worry about?”

“If the Count accepts my proposal, I too am prepared to bear the corresponding ‘price’.”

A price.

“Even if he accepts my proposal, should this war still end in defeat.”

No matter how seasoned a knight he was, he couldn’t help but laugh at the words that followed.

“I’ll stake my heart on it.”

Heart. A sudden, chilling silence fell.

“Ah, that’s not all.”

“……!”

“Along with my heart, the entire responsibility for any defeat we suffer in this battle will be mine alone.”

Not the Holy Knight, but he himself would bear the responsibility for defeat. A wager staked on his own heart and honor. Even Lady Scarlet couldn’t smile in the face of Dale’s words.

“……”

For the first time, her smile vanished before Dale.

“The elders of the White Mage Tower happen to be here, don’t they?”

“Surely not…”

It was precisely that impossible scenario. The White Mage Tower’s pride: contract magic, Geas (the bond of oath).

“What do you say?”

Should he fail to lead the battle to victory, Saxon’s Dale pledged to bear the responsibility for defeat by offering up ‘his own heart’.

“What on earth is he doing that for?”

“Because he can win, of course.”

He was utterly certain, without a shred of hesitation.

“What do you gain from this?”

“I shall claim the glory of victory entirely for myself.”

Dale replied.

“Not the victory of the Count of Brandenburg, but solely as the ‘victory of the Black Prince.'”

“…….”

Half the truth.

“But whether he wins or loses, His Highness will gain something in his own way.”

Dale continued.

“If victorious, he can safely retrieve Prince Philip and be freed from responsibility for defeat.”

Even if he loses, nothing changes. It will be Dale who safely returns the eldest son of the Count’s family and takes the blame for the defeat. Unbelievable nerve.

“Do you truly believe victory is possible?”

Already, Philip had lost half his forces. Even if the Empire possessed ‘powerhouses beyond the norm’ like the Holy Sword or Lady Scarlet.

The enemy was no exception in possessing such extraordinary powerhouses.

The Holy Maiden Aurelia. And the mighty warriors of the former Kingdom of Britannia who followed her. Precisely those mighty warriors refused to remain silent under the Empire’s tyranny and had joined the independence army.

Thomas Becket, the Archbishoph of Britannia Island and a High Elder of the 7th Circle of the White Tower, was one of them.

In that situation, even if Philip were returned and a large quantity of military supplies provided, victory could not be guaranteed, even for the greatest warrior in the world.

“Do you truly… believe we can win in this situation?”

“It’s not impossible to win.”

In that very moment, Dale offered up his own heart and all responsibility for defeat as a sacrifice to Gias. He was utterly certain of victory, without a shred of doubt.

The one who would later become the greatest threat to the Empire. That very being was offering up his own heart.

And he did so with near-impossible certainty of victory.

As Dale said, it was a deal where there was something to gain whether they won or lost.

“I accept the offer.”

For the Count of Brandenburg, there was no reason to refuse this offer.

But if Dale truly achieved this near-impossible victory—that is, if the glory of victory fell solely and entirely to that ‘Black Prince’ alone—

He deliberately turned his head away from the repercussions that act would bring.

Immediately afterward.

The Empire’s ‘new commander-in-chief’ headed to the independence army’s prisoner negotiation table to retrieve the count’s wayward son Philip, held captive, and pay the ransom.

To the heart of the enemy, where the banner of salvation, the holy maiden Aurelia, awaited.

“Prince Dale of Saxony.”

She was a noble and dignified lady knight.

She wore pure white armor, her flawless golden hair flowing freely. Her sword was sheathed in a scabbard embroidered with gold thread, slung diagonally across her belt.

She was so beautiful and elegant that it was impossible to believe she was the daughter of a serf, and even the young ladies of noble families could not adequately describe her grace and refinement. A princess of a nation? An imperial princess? No, that was not it.

There was only one word that could describe her.

“The Maid (La Pucelle)……”

Dale murmured softly. Yet, overwhelmed by her presence, the illusion of walking in a dream was fleeting.

Soon, his mind cooled sharply, and Dale bowed his head.

“I greet you, Lady Aurelia, the Maid.”

“For someone of the Empire to call me ‘The Maid’.”

The Maid of Orleans replied, sounding surprised.

“How unexpected.”

“Because this war is to prove Lady Aurelia’s claim.”

Dale replied coldly.

“Until the side that spills the last drop of blood is decided, there’s no reason to deny that claim.”

Placing the blame for all the blood spilled on this island squarely on her shoulders.

“…….”

For a moment, the Holy Maiden Aurelia remained silent.

“Are you prepared to grant our demands?”

“Do you intend to advance to Reims as planned?”

Dale countered.

“Regrettably, I cannot answer your question, Your Highness.”

“Recapture Reims, and there, crown Charles VII as king…”

Dale continues.

“What do you plan to do after that?”

He unilaterally steered the conversation.

“That depends entirely on His Majesty the King’s will.”

Aurelia replied.

“I am merely a servant carrying out the revelation of Sister Sistina.”

“Since you claim to have received a divine revelation, I have something I wish to ask.”

“Speak.”

Dale tilted his head as if puzzled.

“Why would the all-knowing, all-powerful goddess above the heavens concern herself so deeply with the quarrels of mere mortal nations?”

“……”

“The sister goddesses… remained silent even when the goddess’s realm fell.”

He tilted his head, then continued speaking matter-of-factly.

“Is there any particular reason to regard the Kingdom of Britannia as special?”

Aurelia’s expression froze coldly.

“Is not the Empire, too, merely one among countless nations born and perishing?”

But the sacredness Dale was blaspheming against was not just Aurelia’s faith alone. His words denied both Aurelia’s faith and the Empire’s faith—the sacredness of both great powers. It was a danger beyond compare.

“After completing the coronation of Charles VII according to the goddess’s will, whose command do you intend to follow, Lady Aurelia?”

Dale continued calmly.

“Will you uphold the command of Charles VII, King of the newly established Kingdom of Britannia, as if it were a ‘divine revelation’?”

“……Thinking is not my role.”

Merely as one who claims to be the goddess’s sword and the banner of national salvation, as if his virtue lay solely in execution.

“No, Lady Aurelia, you must think.”

“Enough of this small talk.”

Aurelia coldly cut off Dale’s words. This was, after all, a negotiation to pay the ransom for ‘Prince Philip’. She refused to be drawn into the other party’s schemes.

“Ah, needless to say, the ransom is ready.”

Dale smiled as if he had expected it.

“At this point, it’s nothing but a minor detail.”

“What do you mean trivial?”

Dale answered Aurelia’s question.

“The capital of the former Kingdom of Britannia, where the royal line held coronations for generations…”

Reims. The ultimate goal of the Britannian independence army. As he uttered the name of that very city, Dale smiled.

“I intend to offer that very Reims to you, Holy Maiden Aurelia.”

“……!”

Leaving behind the ‘Geass’ engraved upon his heart, from which he could never be free of the responsibility for defeat.