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――The final act of Chisha Gold, posing as the Emperor, was beyond comprehension.
Having been ousted from the throne, Vincent Vollachia began giving his name as Abel, gained support from the People of Shudraq in the large forest to the east, and personally took the lead of a rebellion that had upheaved the Empire.
This was not what he had hoped for when planning for the future, but this was rather Chisha’s plan, who had deliberately gone the full length, committing treason, thus driving Vincent away from the Imperial Capital. He would not do an about-face so easily.
Therefore, he had taken measures to clearly inform him that his actions, that his motives were futile.
Destined death, brought about by the Stargazers, was something that Abel had resolved himself for long ago, from the time he gained self-awareness as an Imperial Prince of Vollachia.
When commandment and forewarning were received, it was foretold that upon the death of the Emperor who had ascended to the throne, the Great Disaster, which was to bring about ruin, would commence.
It was not as though he himself had been mentioned by name.
However, once he laid eyes upon that forewarning, he had been convinced that he would be the one to ascend to the seat of Emperor.
He had been convinced that, were it not him, the Vollachian Empire could not be saved.
To his other brothers and sisters, he could not entrust that great duty.
Putting the entirety of his capabilities and his potential into it, Vincent Abellux would take the seat of Emperor, and as Vincent Vollachia, he would take measures for the Empire to not be undone.
That was the plan that Vincent Vollachia, that Abel had staked his life on.
He had restored the system of the Nine Divine Generals, whom everyone worshipped in the Vollachian Empire where the strong were revered, and upon their apex, he had placed the unmistakable strongest.
Distorting the way of being of the Empire, rife with senseless barbarism as it was, he had guided them so that they would lose their reluctance regarding orderly violence.
Thus leaving as much potential as he possibly could so that the Vollachian Empire would survive, even after his death.
Everything, had been part of the plan on which he had staked his life.
The body, unable to do anything but lie face down, continued to spill vast volumes of blood from its chest, its heart having been pierced.
Black hair and black eyes; each time he looked in the mirror, his face made him feel anger and frustration at his lack of power, his lack of knowledge. That face had been deprived of blood, its expression soaked in blood as it gazed at nowhere in particular.
His current body, manifested through the “ability” which he had professed to have attained while on the verge of death, a time at which his color had vanished, did not return to his original form, even once his life had come to an end.
Nevermore would he lay eyes upon that form, nevermore would that impudent speech strike his eardrums again.
A question that ought not be asked, spilled from his lips.
The one who was to answer that question, would never open their mouth once more. Even so, the lips that were supposed to avoid all that their owner knew to be meaningless, spilled that question.
The prophecy of the Great Disaster, it was conceivable that it could be overturned were one to be aware of its conditions.
He had sought out that method in the past. He had conveyed so to him, that ought to have made him understand that it could not be done. And yet, as Chisha had still not been convinced, he had committed treason in vain.
In this way, the confrontation they’d had within the throne room ought to have been proof that no means with which to avoid the Great Disaster existed.
He had trained Chisha, so that he could entrust him with the Empire after his own demise. To think as he did, to arrive at the same conclusions as he did, in order for him to be able to fulfill being a proxy of Vincent Vollachia.
Therefore, were he truly Vincent Vollachia, he was supposed to have accepted defeat with grace.
Accepting defeat and lowering weapons, putting an end to this futile battle, restoring the throne to the returned Abel so the latter could welcome death, and then, with that, he would supposedly oppose the Great Disaster of ruin.
That had not come to pass. A foolish gamble it had been.
Even if he were to die in Abel’s place, as Vincent Vollachia, were the Great Disaster to not deem it acceptable, it would amount to a foolish gamble that had ended in naught but a useless death.
That especially was what Abel abhorred, a death inefficient to the utmost extremes.
Even though Chisha Gold had presumably been aware of that.
Endless doubt and bewilderment, stained a deep scarlet by the flowing blood.
Even if he asked once more, there would only be another layer of silence piled on, gone without replies. That too, was what Abel loathed, inefficiency to the utmost extremes, and then――,
???: [――Well, ain’t that just ‘cause it was a bad plan?]
Immediately after, a second shot of white light was fired, zipping straight towards Abel, who stood bolt upright.
Calling it light was no falsehood, the blow that brought death aimed for Abel faster than an arrow.
To begin with, Abel was not a fighter.
Even supposing the shock from the immediately preceding event had already passed, it would have been entirely impossible for him to react to the white radiance that had grazed the edge of his vision for nary a moment.
Ergo, what had saved Abel’s life in that moment, was not a judgment of his own.
It came to pass right as Abel was on the verge of being run through by the light approaching him from the front, about to have his heart extirpated.
A roaring sound and violent tremors furiously shook the throne room―― Nay, the entire Crystal Palace, and a tremendous impact destroyed its firm walls. The origin of the impact did not stop at just destroying the wall, and wedged its way between Abel, who was standing bolt upright, and the corona zipping towards him.
With a sound akin to a splash of water, the white light was scattered upon hitting that interference. And thus, that which had saved Abel’s life by a hairbreadth was――,
Abel: [――An enormous arm, is that Moguro Hagane!?]
Moguro: [Man at throne, protect. His Excellency, ordered me.]
The wall-esque object that had made a sudden appearance before Abel’s eyes, was the right arm of Moguro Hagane, which had been thrust into the throne room.
Moguro, a Meteor also known as the very Crystal Palace itself, was supposed to be participating in a fierce clash unfolding upon the battlefield, having taken in the ramparts of the Imperial Capital of Lupugana as their own body.
Abel: [Was it Chisha…!?]
Moguro’s earlier statement was proof of the fact that they had received orders to protect Abel.
Then, the one to direct Moguro to return from far away had been the one who sat upon the throne possessing the function of exerting influence on the Meteor; none other than Chisha Gold could have done so.
That Abel’s life would once more be targeted right after he himself had been shot, had been his prediction.
Abel: [――Hk, Moguro Hagane! Bring me outside!]
Moguro: [Who, you. My, priority, His Excellency――]
Abel: [The Emperor has died! If I die, his death shall be in vain!]
Taking in those domineering words from Abel, Moguro noticed the collapsed silhouette as they peered into the throne room.
Moguro’s state was such that it was difficult to tell where their eyes were present. Once the green orbs emerging from the city walls flickered, however, they too recognized the death of the Emperor, who had collapsed face-down.
Moguro: [The body――]
Abel: [It is superfluous! Worry not for the dead!]
Shouting at Moguro as they attempted to retrieve the Emperor’s corpse, Abel jumped towards the titanic right-arm before him. As he clung onto one of the fingers of the hand-like shape, Moguro pulled their arm out of the throne room, causing Abel to be bathed in raging winds as he was extracted out into the sky.
Moguro had become one with the ramparts, having altered the latter’s structure to allow themself easier movement.
Moguro’s body was now that of an enormous golem greater than fifty meters tall, and riding on the arm as it was lifted, Abel’s elevation was about the same.
With the cityscape of the Imperial Capital in sight from that height, the path Moguro had taken from the third bastion that they had been protecting alongside the buildings trampled in said path was visible. It was apparent that they had bolted straight towards this place, devoid of any other concerns.
Apart from that, though the battles at each bastion were still ongoing, the reasons for their conflicts had vanished already, and so those who needed to prepare for the upcoming battle were squandering their lives in vain.
In vain, their lives were――.
A disturbance arose in his thoughts, and Abel put strength into his arms clinging onto the gargantuan rock.
This was not the time to cling to bygone events and have his thoughts dispersed into many fragments. Already, events were unfolding. It was just as he had told Moguro. ――If he were to die now, that death would be in vain.
At the very least, he must ascertain whether that death had held meaning or not.
Abel: [I shall not die.]
Voice leaked as if being wrung out, and Abel bit down on his molars and stared downwards, intently.
Even if he raised his voice here, it would not reach those whose lives were clashing on the battleground. However, he must inform them that the meaning in this battle had been lost, by any means necessary.
As Abel was thinking, Moguro’s gale-like voice struck his eardrums.
Their difference in their physique was so significant that each and every single one of Moguro’s actions was akin to a human’s actions towards an ant. However, it was not as though Moguro had rocked his eardrums without purpose.
Gyrating their colossal frame, Moguro turned their back on the Crystal Palace with Abel protected in their right hand. As sounds of successive impacts resounded from the exterior of the right hand he was held in, Abel’s cheeks contorted.
The sequence of strikes came not from one direction, rather, they were raining down from all angles.
The enemy was simply great in numbers. ――No, a collection of magic users that could aim for their enemies with such precision, would be infeasible on this soil of Vollachia.
That was to say, this was not a group large in number, but the mastery of a single person.
A truly powerful individual who lent the illusion that a great number of people were performing a simultaneous attack from all directions―― resuscitating the memories of the time when his thoughts had ground to a halt due to shock just before, Abel raised his face.
That fighting style, the voice of that undesired reply, were present in his memories.
Moguro twisted their body, defending Abel from the downpour of bullets, and descended.
Looking up at the sky from within that fist, he saw the traces of a shadow moving too fast for eyes to fix upon. Albeit exceedingly rare, it was a form that could be seen within the Vollachian Empire.
Soaring by means of flying dragons, ‘twas the acrobatic flight of the flying dragon riders able to control them―― Nay, there were currently no riders in the Empire capable of gliding through the sky at this speed.
To be precise, that was the level of ability known as the “utmost limits of flight”, the domain where the Empire’s strongest flying dragon rider was without peer.
In an instant, white light dispersed, the sound of Moguro’s enormous body being broken by the impact reverberated, and a part of the broken wall grazed Abel’s cheek. Without distorting his countenance due to the pain, he saw it.
The flying dragon rider passed by the vision of his black eyes covered by the oni mask―― Ashen-brown hair, cracks running through his features bereft of color, and dark eyeballs, akin to a moonless night, with a golden radiance looming therein.
His form appeared far too unrecognizable, but even so, there was no mistaking him.
Abel: [――Balleroy Temeglyph! For what reason are you alive!?]
Balleroy: [I ain’t gonna talk to ya, Mister Oni-Mask.]
Producing a beautiful voice that gave off an elegant impression, he refused to reply while still affirming his existence.
Fading from sight once again, the enemy that steered his flying dragon to slice through the air―― Balleroy Temeglyph, was unmistakably the perpetrator who had aimed for the throne room of the Crystal Palace from the outside, the one who had shot the fake Emperor through the heart.
Known as the Magical Sharpshooter, he was the man who reigned supreme at the apex of all flying dragon riders. 
The former Ninth of the Nine Divine Generals, who in the past, during a rebellion that had occurred within the Empire――,
Moguro: [Balleroy, died. You, fake.]
Their perception the same as Abel’s, the giant Moguro fired a counterattack.
With Abel enveloped by their right-hand, Moguro swung the left arm of their huge body, and quite literally mowing down the air, they launched an attack towards Balleroy’s flying dragon.
People would tend to believe that big things moved sluggishly, but that was but an illusion originating from their viewpoints being far away from the events.
In addition to protecting Abel from the magic sniping, they had blocked the entirety of the enemy’s attacks until this point. Moguro’s movements were keen, nimble, and precise.
Moguro: [Fast. Meticulous.]
However, even with Moguro’s reflexes and agility, subduing Balleroy, who made the entirety of the sky into his domain as he flew around it, was unfeasible.
The special trait of a flying dragon rider was not restricted to just speed, but extended to having the potential to move up, down, left, right, front, and back. To move in every conceivable direction, was their greatest advantage that could not be taken away lest they were felled to the surface.
On top of that, Balleroy was no ordinary flying dragon rider, he was their apex.
Abel: [He’s clad himself in wind…!]
Balleroy’s tactics excelled in sniping while moving via the use of magic, but his strengths as one of the rare wielders of magic within the Empire were not limited to only offensive implementations.
By shrouding wind around the flying dragon he steered, he actualized a maneuver that other flying dragon riders could not, increasing its speed and softening the impacts it took, making himself unable to ever be caught.
However, in order to put it into practice, a strong coordination with his flying dragon was indispensable.
Abel: [Has that flying dragon also soared back from the beyond!?]
Flying dragon riders boasted tremendous strength in battle, but their greatest drawbacks were that it took time to cultivate them, plus that flying dragons would not let anyone apart from the one they chose as a partner ride upon their back.
To kill a flying dragon rider, their flying dragon must first be killed. The cause of Balleroy’s death was no exception.
However, Balleroy had soared back. Quite literally, he was soaring through the sky together with his beloved dragon.
Abel: [The Great Disaster――]
It was not as though any clear or observable damage had arisen.
However, since Chisha had lost his life as Vincent Vollachia, there was no choice but to suspect that the events transcending human comprehension that had ensued thereafter were related to the Great Disaster.
Even so, it was nonsensical for Balleroy Temeglyph to be the bearer of the Great Disaster.
Of course, Balleroy was the apex of flying dragon riders, a truly powerful individual amongst the Empire’s strongest.
Were he inclined to do so, he would have no trouble in doing away with Abel’s life.
Moguro: [Shaking. Endure.]
Abel: [It matters not, do it!]
The inorganic voice sent forth an intense wind, and Abel raised his own voice in response.
The following moment, Moguro, lunging with the enemy as their aim, thrust their arm down to their own feet. Even if those were called “feet”, looking at Moguro’s currently enormous body, it appeared as if they had become one with the street.
Posterior to being plunged into a street of the Empire, the left arm produced a creaking sound, and after a moment of resistance, the street that had been uprooted was magnificently heaved into the sky.
The sight of parts of a district being sent flying was something that Abel had laid eyes upon a short while at Chaosflame, priorly. It had been an absurd sight back then as well, but it had been nothing more than the city’s residents coming together to hurl demolished buildings.
However, in Moguro’s case, that was a feat of strength devoid of intricacy, an unmistakable act of violence.
It was a sight that proved that Moguro Hagane was extraordinary, that proved that he was one of the Nine Divine Generals.
Without doubt, Balleroy too was an extraordinary individual, but Moguro, in addition to the other Divine Generals, also possessed those same qualifications. Therefore, Balleroy could not be capable of being the bearer of the Great Disaster.
Of course, were the street that had been ripped from the ground to be hurled and nothing more, the astute Balleroy would just evade and be done with it.
Hence, with the block of the city that could be called a cannonball having been thrown, Moguro――,
A slam of their left arm, and it was turned into innumerable projectiles obstructing Balleroy’s aerial escape path.
Shrapnel scattered in all directions, each piece a mass of rock or clump of soil even larger than a human. Thus dispersing with that singular blow from Moguro, it was such that an ordinary human would be quite likely to suffer fatal injury with even a mere graze.
Naturally, if Balleroy were to be struck by it, even he, who had mastered the Flow Method, would end up showing a fatal opening in midair. In order to avoid that,
In accordance with the sharp voice amidst the windstorm, his flying dragon soared in order to slip past the bullet rain of boulders.
Flapping its wings as it diced the air, his flying dragon aimed for the one area in the world where the incessant downpour of boulders was slightly weaker――,
Abel: [Obviously, that is a trap.]
Moguro had deliberately left a region in which the downpour was slightly weaker, however, even if Balleroy and Carillon were aware that it was a ruse, they could not afford to be hit by the shrapnel, so they had no choice but to fly into it.
What remained was whether Balleroy, riding his beloved dragon at a high speed, would be victorious in evading the blow expected from Moguro.
With his flying dragon wrapped in wind, Balleroy accelerated, soaring through the sky as he obliterated the obstructive shrapnel with lights.
Moguro gyrated the left arm they had drawn back, and a blow that could drill a hole through the world burrowed through the sky of the Imperial Capital.
As mutual Divine Generals, a duel that could have never been realized in Balleroy’s lifetime unfolded, and as both of them crossed with all of their might up high in the air, they began their showdown――,
――That instant, faster than they could crash into one another, the clouds of the Imperial Capital were blown away with the sound of an explosion and its shockwave.
Though direct damage from the explosive power had been averted, the aftershock was so intense that it seemed like it would tear Abel’s body away from clinging to Moguro.
But, no matter how harsh a situation his slender body faced, Abel would never close both his eyes. Henceforth, his eyes firmly grasped the events of that moment.
Abel: [Moguro’s, arm――]
Just before Moguro’s gyrating left arm was able to display its might by pulverizing Balleroy, an interference occurred, and the part equivalent to a human’s brachium was torn asunder.
Spinning with vigor, the arm of Moguro, humongous enough to rival the castle’s own size, danced through the air. Leisurely slipping out by flying under the damage, Balleroy had survived the rain of shrapnel―― Not just that, he had escaped completely unharmed.
Then, the one that had destroyed Moguro’s arm, thus saving Balleroy from his predicament was――,
???: [Oh, OHHHHHHHHHHHHH――!!!]
As a deep voice that rumbled the atmosphere was raised, there was a fierce collision, an impact from the side. Arm demolished and posture broken, Moguro’s green orbs scintillated at what had barged in.
For Abel too, this interference had been unforeseen. Though, it was something to be expected.
After all, if the opponent was Balleroy Temeglyph, who had soared back from death.
???: [BASTARD! GET THE FRIG’ AWAY FROM THIS DRAGON’S DARLIIIIIIING――!!!]
Brandishing claws of a dragon, it easily tore through Moguro’s body, fashioned from the city walls, and alongside a roar, a blow from its tail slammed against Moguro, destroying one part, the latter’s mass being reduced in the blink of an eye.
It was extremely abrupt, but that was a matter of course. ――The opponent was of the strongest lifeforms in existence.
Abel: [The Cloud Dragon, Mezoreia… is that which resides within, Madelyn Eschart!?]
The howling Dragon raged with its whole body, and with a collision caused Moguro’s enormous build to sway greatly. With each blow the ramparts fissured, its broken pieces plummeting onto the Imperial Capital.
The Crystal Palace, extolled as the world’s most beautiful castle, had its gardens trampled upon, subjected to devastation, while the cityscape of the Imperial Capital, constructed in a well-arranged, orderly fashion, met its demise with each passing second.
In addition, the catastrophes assailing the Imperial Capital did not end there.
Indistinguishable amongst the thunderous sounds of the Dragon’s wrath as it laid waste to Moguro’s body, what had reached Abel’s ears was the sound of destruction, akin to the world crumbling, originating from a distant location.
Thus directing his gaze there, to behind the Crystal Palace―― where a reservoir was present, a cistern which made use of springs amidst the mountains and was utilized as a water source for the entire Imperial Capital, had its bulwark pierced through by Moguro’s left arm, that had been cleaved just moments before.
A beat later, fissures expanded from the point the arm had penetrated, and the water from the reservoir began seeping out from the cracks. Gradually amassing vigor, before long the entire dam would crumble and become a stream of mud flowing through the Imperial Capital.
Guiding the residents of the Imperial Capital, as well as the Imperial Soldiers and rebels participating in the battle, to refuge as soon as possible was――.
Right after hearing Moguro’s whisper, a mutter not all that quiet, a feeling of floating assailed Abel’s body.
Looking over his shoulder as he felt his insides rising up, Abel saw that it was not that he had been thrown, but rather, that Moguro’s arm, the hand of which Abel had been held in, had been crunched through by the Dragon above the wrist.
It was not that he had been targeted. Rather, it had been nothing more than a result of a foolhardy attack.
Engulfed by the momentum of his freefall, Abel’s body spun around over in midair.
His arms, which had been clinging onto Moguro’s arm, had been detached from it, but even if he were still hanging onto it, given the arm had originally been the city’s walls, it would have ended up being his cause of death, most likely.
However, even if Moguro’s arm had not become his cause of death, at this rate, Abel would slam into something that was very much similar to it, and similar his fate would be.
Abel: [I need to――]
Find something; looking around, Abel’s eyes were drawn to one point.
However, that point was not a source of aid.
What had entered Abel’s vision was the large hole in the Crystal Palace through which Moguro had pulled him out.
The hole led to the throne room. He was unable to peer inside, yet his attention was drawn to it.
He had been the one to say “worry not for the dead”, yet he too had pretty much drunk from the same poison.
He did not know whether he had found a way to break through the deadlock or not, even with that sole second.
But that he had not squandered that one second was proof of Abel’s unrelenting spirit, the indelible scar engraved upon his soul for all perpetuity.
Then again, if he were to plunge to his death like this, discussing the scar engraved upon his soul would have no merit.
Lost in what he ought to do, Abel arranged his limbs as to diminish the impact, but before that could happen, he was forcefully met with a soft sensation.
Unconsciously holding his breath, Abel’s body rebounded, and he fell on top of that sensation once again. Repeating that countless times for a brief moment, Abel came to notice he was bouncing on a spread-out cloth.
Someone had spread out piles of cloth beneath the descending Abel, thus catching his fall.
Digesting the reality of his narrow escape from death, Abel rolled off the cloth right away, and off its edge he placed a foot on firm ground. While on one knee, he raised his face in order to ascertain the doer of said deed――,
???: [――Weeeell~, the time for the commandment has arrived!]
???: [Are you His Excellency, or perhaps His Excellency? Either way, the Great Disaster has come around! Won’t you fight against the Great Disaster together with me!?]
Are you really so delighted with the fulfillment of the prophecy?
Spreading his arms, both his demeanor and voice were joyful and far too out-of-place, with the battle between the titanic Moguro and the Cloud Dragon causing the demolition of the city to his back, the man―― Ubilk, smiled.
Celebrating the moment in which the commandment he had been granted as a Stargazer, had, without a doubt, been materialized.
The thunderous boom of the walls breaking reverberated, violently shaking the Crystal Palace. Upon being convinced that something decisive had occurred, Berstetz Fondalfon entered the throne room.
Berstetz: [――Is that, Chisha-dono?]
The wall of the throne room had crumbled, and amidst the freshly scattered dust, Berstetz found the form of the black-haired Emperor toppled atop the scarlet carpet, thus lowering the corners of his slit eyes in gloom.
Walking closer towards it, he saw that the body, collapsed face-down, had been punctured on its chest. The heart that ought to have been beating within had exploded, the thread of life had been cut.
Though he was not a military officer, he understood with a glance. It had been an instant death. There had been no time to even feel pain.
Berstetz: [Considering what we have done, this could be said to be quite the merciful end.]
Ever since he had committed treason, raising a rebellion against the Emperor, Vincent Vollachia, Berstetz had resigned himself to the fact that his death would not be a peaceful one whatsoever.
As an accomplice, Chisha should have steeled a similar resolve as well.
But then again――,
Berstetz: [Though, from my discussion with the Stargazer, it seems you had set your eyes on something different than me.]
Though a clear act of treachery, Berstetz had no intent of condemning it.
Rather, his true feelings were those of admiration.
In order to gain that which one desired, they must exhaust all of their strength in attempted pursuit; such was the Empire’s essence.
Neither Berstetz nor Chisha possessed the fighting strength needed to abide by the Empire’s mantra, but they were alike in the sense that they both compensated for what they lacked with their ingenuity.
The new form of the Empire constructed by the Emperor, Vincent Vollachia, had also recognized and certified that as a form of strength.
Berstetz had also approved of that way of doing things in the Empire, and adhering to it, Chisha had made a magnificent example.
With his own strength. ――As a man of the Vollachian Empire, that was a deed of honor.
Berstetz: [Although, it seems it will be difficult to find the time to speak words of praise.]
Looking down at the corpse, Berstetz gazed at the hole in the wall where a gale was blowing in. On the other side, he could ascertain the presence of an enormous body, colored like rocks, in motion―― the presence of Moguro Hagane.
Given these circumstances, it would be strange if Moguro had killed Chisha.
In his position, Moguro was supposedly an ally of Chisha, the latter playing the part of Emperor. Chisha’s cause of death had been a blow through the chest, but it would have been impossible for Moguro’s giant body to execute a strike with such precision.
If there was concern to be had, it was of the strange words that the Stargazer―― that Ubilk, had left behind as he passed by Berstetz, the outside of the Crystal Palace the place he was heading to.
Berstetz: [The Great Disaster, and the ruin it brings… Just, what is it that I am unaware of in the Empire?]
???: [――My my, has nobody informed you? In that case, shall I fill you in?]
His cheeks stiffening upon suddenly hearing a voice, Berstetz slowly turned his gaze back.
His eyes, directed towards the large hole, turned back to the collapsed remains of the Emperor. Then, he cast his gaze further upwards, to the deepest part of the throne room―― to the throne.
Even as the entire castle yet shook from the impacts, the throne went without moving, firm in its position. As the national flag depicting the Sword Wolf swayed in the wind, before it was a silhouette, resting chin in hand.
Augustly sitting on the throne where His Excellency the Emperor ought to be sat, the figure looked down upon Berstetz. 
Properly speaking, Berstetz should have raised a stern voice, should have reproached the disrespect of the person sat upon the throne.
However, he was incapable of doing so. It was true that he had been rendered speechless due to the shock, but above that, Berstetz did not possess the qualifications to reproach them.
In this Vollachian Empire, the position of Prime Minister ranked second after the Emperor and the Imperial Family in terms of authority.
It was possible to say that the Generals of the First-Class extolled as the Nine Divine Generals held a similar rank, but more important was the fact that there was almost nobody in the country that Berstetz, with the position of Prime Minister, could not reproach.
Nevertheless, Berstetz had been unable to rebuke the other party.
The reason was――,
???: [To think you would yet live, you are quite tenacious, Berstetz. ――Say, who won the Imperial Selection Ceremony? Vincent-niisama? Or was it Prisca?]
Cracks formed on her pale and beautiful face, the member of the Imperial Family of Vollachia spoke.
The master whom Berstetz Fondalfon had served priorly, the Imperial Princess who was supposed to have perished, having suffered defeat in the Imperial Selection Ceremony, Lamia Godwin, leisurely crossed her legs atop the throne.
 – Balleroy’s title of “Magical Sharpshooter” (魔弾の射手) directly translates to “Marksman of Magic Bullets”. However, the Japanese title is also the localized name of a German Opera called “Der Freischütz”, which itself is based on a tale in German folklore of the same name. As the tale goes, a marksman obtains several magic bullets through a contract with the devil, which will always hit the desired target of the marksman, however, the final bullet is controlled by the devil. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Freisch%C3%BCtz
 – Though translated here as “augustly”, the japanese term (畏れ多くも) can mean both “gracious” and “discourteous”.