Chapter 67: The Emperor’s Speech
Pages, fragments—parts of the Book of Truth.
This was an incomprehensible sort of power.
Veritas alone was proof of that.
A grimoire with an ego, no less—an existence possessing immeasurable magical power.
Most people failed to notice Veritas’s existence. Up until now, there had been only one exception.
The spirit Jilp of Hohenberg. He had warned Binaeril to be wary of the fragment.
“Pages are concentrated imaginations. More precisely, you could call them the dregs of manifested imagination.”
“Imagination? Dregs?”
It was an explanation that didn’t immediately resonate, but Binaeril decided to understand it step by step.
“If the essence of Pages is ‘imagination,’ then that means there is a subject to that imagination, doesn’t it?”
“…You’ve gotten sharper. Pages, including myself, are byproducts created by a single mage’s magic.”
There was only one mage in existence who could treat beings like Veritas as mere “byproducts.”
“Is that mage’s name the same as what I’m thinking?”
“Probably. There’s only one person like that.”
The Archmage Dekiplio.
The founder of magic, the builder of the Magic Tower Elphenbain, and the savior of humanity.
At the mention of a name seen only in magic history books, Binaeril’s head grew slightly dizzy.
“You’re telling me you’re Dekiplio’s creation?”
“They aren’t artifacts Dekiplio intentionally created. I told you. They’re merely dregs. Binaeril, what did I say magic is?”
“The belief that makes imagination into reality.”
It had been a long time ago, but Binaeril remembered that conversation clearly.
Veritas nodded.
“That’s right. Magic is the crystallization of imagination and will. The coercion of violent will. The fruit of limitless imagination. That is the essence of magic. And when Dekiplio’s magic was made manifest in this world.”
While still lying down, Veritas spread his arms wide and pointed to the space they stood in.
“Such grandiose imagination couldn’t help but leave behind dregs.”
“Then the tremendous amount of magical power you possess too….”
“Yes. It originally belonged to Dekiplio. Well, does that answer your question?”
He understood it intellectually, but couldn’t readily accept it.
The true nature of Veritas being an artifact of the Archmage Dekiplio.
That was likely also why Veritas lacked a physical form and could change his appearance at will.
“Then here’s a quiz.”
“I explained that magic is the crystallization of imagination and willpower. But was all of Dekiplio’s imagination purely beautiful and peaceful?”
He had spent his entire life battling demonic beasts. Of course not.
Binaeril himself mostly used magic for combat purposes as well.
“I suppose not.”
“Exactly. That’s why many of Dekiplio’s remnants are of the dangerous sort, and they sometimes summon demonic beasts and create singularities.”
Binaeril felt a strong premonition that he wouldn’t be able to obtain future Pages as easily as he had this one.
“And Binaeril, this is a freebie.”
“You aren’t the only one gathering Pages.”
That was… what the spirit Jilp had also said. That Binaeril wasn’t the only one gathering the power of fragments.
“Then are you saying I’ll have to meet whoever has gathered Pages at some point and have them handed over?”
“Well, that might happen. If the other side hands them over willingly, that is.”
“Who is ‘the other side’?”
Veritas’s smile gradually deepened. Binaeril grew anxious.
Whenever that guy was enjoying himself, it always meant bad news for Binaeril.
“Broadly speaking, the Church. That very religious group you call the Vitori Holy Church.”
“The Church is gathering Pages?”
This was no trivial matter. It meant he might have to oppose the entire Church to obtain Pages.
“And to be more specific… there is one individual proactively leading the gathering of Pages.”
“Who is it?”
Binaeril’s pupils shook violently.
“The brother you detest—Nunnaeril Dalheim—is gathering Pages, just like you.”
His vision spun.
He couldn’t tell if Binaeril was feeling lightheaded or if Veritas was playing a prank.
Either way, his vision was spinning.
Binaeril asked in a trembling voice.
“My brother? Why in the world? How many Pages has he gathered? Why on earth is he gathering Pages? No, how does he even know about the Pages?”
Binaeril fired off questions haphazardly.
Only now could Binaeril distinguish the cause. It wasn’t him who was dizzy—the space itself was distorting.
Veritas was preparing to expel him from this space.
“Hey, wait. Veritas, answer me!”
Binaeril’s vision went dark.
Veritas’s voice began to echo from within him once more.
—I told you. You only get one question. If you want to know more, go collect more Pages.
Veritas had said that he would answer any question with only the truth.
There was no chance that guy was lying.
Even if he was a perverse book who loved to mess with people.
“Questions always conform to a person’s stature.” Those had been Veritas’s words.
Just as those words suggested, Binaeril had only grown more curious through his question.
Why was Nunnaeril Dalheim—
—gathering Pages?
How did he know about them?
Was he gathering them on the Church’s orders?
Just as Veritas had made Binaeril grow stronger, had his brother grown stronger as well?
It was truly a situation where one question begot another.
Veritas’s intentions were obvious in this situation of Binaeril falling into panic.
‘He even gave me information he didn’t have to.’
—You’d make a fuss if I told you more. Call it a freebie, a freebie. You could say I’m being generous.
‘Very funny.’
Even if he agonized over it right now, there wasn’t a single answer he could find.
That is, if that wretched book refused to open its mouth any longer.
‘If one Page must always yield one answer, then…’
—You’ll have to try to find the next Page? As it happens, I have good news for you.
‘What news?’
—I’ve found the location of the nearest next Page.
‘Where?’
—A city called Rotpalen, located to the southeast of here.
Binaeril spread out a map and searched for the place name Rotpalen. That place was,
a region belonging to the territory of Duke Dukseu.
The moment dawn broke, Binaeril went straight to Duke Dukseu.
“You wish to accompany us?”
“Since my business in the empire is finished, I must return to Elphenbain anyway. My schedule is not urgent, so there’s no need to cross through Hohenberg. I believe it would be safer to pass through Your Grace’s territory and loop around to the south.”
It was a reasonable argument.
Lady Vivian was beside them, sending a wordless, overjoyed gaze toward her father.
Duke Dukseu felt an inexplicable sense of foreboding toward Binaeril.
A strong premonition that he absolutely must not allow them to have time alone together like this…
Vivian ruthlessly jabbed the duke in the side from an angle Binaeril couldn’t see.
“…Very well, Sir Binaeril.”
“You may speak comfortably.”
Having obtained the duke’s permission, he also had to bid farewell to Rike and Silvia.
“You’re leaving already?”
“Yeah, I don’t think there’s any reason to stay here longer.”
In a place without the regent or other retainers, Binaeril still called Rike comfortably by her nickname.
‘There’s no reason to stay here longer.’
Rike felt a pang of disappointment at Binaeril’s words.
“I’m not leaving right away. Duke Dukseu said he’ll return after the coronation, so I’ll go back with him then.”
“Yes, I understand.”
Unlike Binaeril, who had delivered his business in a light tone and left, Friederike’s heart was heavy all day long.
“Rike?”
“Your Highness?”
No matter what she did, she often found herself spacing out.
As the coronation drew nearer, Rike found it harder to make time. Her encounters with Binaeril also gradually decreased.
Thus the days passed, and finally the day of the coronation dawned.
On the morning of the coronation, an envoy delegation dispatched from the Vitori Holy State arrived. The timing was rather coincidental.
When informed that the conflicts over succession had all been settled, the priest from the Holy State nodded.
The coronation was conducted simply.
The crowning ceremony of placing the crown upon the head was omitted as well; very few people attended, and the two emperors stood before the bifurcated imperial throne and swore their oath.
They each took one half of the royal scepter that had been split in two. It was the object Binaeril had returned.
First Princess Charlotte continued with a short speech.
Friederike looked around at the people gathered for the coronation.
Her older sister. Silvia. Duke Dukseu and Lady Vivian. The soldiers of the ducal house. Count Palatine Brante.
And the remaining people entered her eyes like passing background extras in a novel.
Soon, her gaze reached Binaeril.
“…Rike?”
Someone poked her in the side. It was her older sister, Charlotte.
“Huh?”
“It’s your turn.”
The First Princess stepped back, and now it was her turn to speak.
Rike—Empress Friederike—organized the words she wished to say.
She opened her mouth to speak.
“I stand here as the Second Princess of the Empire, and as the legitimate successor to the imperial throne.
But looking back on the past, what I have done as the Second Princess is far too little.
For much longer, I was a student of Elphenbain, a single mage, my sister’s younger sister, and a friend to Silvia and Binaeril.
And when I returned to the position I had left behind, the heavy responsibilities and duties I had cast aside in fear remained like shackles.
Because of the shackles called ‘princess,’ I suffered much hatred and violence without reason.”
What had Rike felt, downing the poisoned cup the lady-in-waiting brought her every day with a smiling face?
What had Rike felt when she leaped from the royal palace bedroom holding her sister?
“I confess that for a long time, I regarded my position as a wasp.
There were more days when I swallowed words I had to say because I feared being hated. I lived feeling that my very existence was a nuisance.”
The people grew solemn. Or perhaps they were doubtful.
That one who would soon sit upon the imperial throne would utter such weak words from the very coronation.
Even if they didn’t show it outwardly, some harbored such thoughts.
“But after leaving the empire and living as a single human being rather than a princess, I realized that the thoughts I held were incredibly immature.
Some children slept under roofless skies more often than not.
And some lived without ever knowing their parents’ faces or names.
And some had to hide deep in the mountain forests, shunned by people.
They were none other than the citizens of our empire.”
Rike’s figure conversing with the street children. She had always shared everything she had with them.
Had that been sympathy, or responsibility?
“Complaining about one’s circumstances is something anyone can do. But complaining about one’s circumstances while possessing the power to change them is an opportunity not everyone can have.
And that was the true nature of what I had thought were shackles.
I was a student of Elphenbain, a mage, a friend to someone, a disciple, a younger sister, and at the same time, I was a princess of the empire.
It is only now that I give thanks for the opportunity given to me. It was an opportunity impossible without the sacrifices of the many people who believed in my sister and me and followed us.
The empire will change. I myself intend to make it so.
I hope for a nation where citizens do not starve, where they do not tremble in fear of demonic beasts, and where those in power are not arrogant.”
Friederike looked toward her friend, her savior, the person who would soon leave and become nothing but a figure of longing.
…It won’t be long.
Until she met him again.
Friederike believed so. She wanted to believe so.
The audience was so focused on her speech that they forgot to breathe.
Something faint began to bloom among those present.
From the two girls before their eyes—from the young princesses who would now become emperors.
A faint premonition that something would begin to change little by little.