Chapter 37: A World Without Punchlines

With the Holy Eve Festival concluded, it was time for the winter holidays at Saint-Noel Academy. In previous years, Mia had always left for Lunatear ten days after the festival, after which she’d attend her birthday festival. This year, she departed early, for there was something she had to get done.

Mia and her entourage made their way not toward the imperial capital, but to the Rudolvon Outcounty. The route took them through the south of Belluga into Tearmoon. It was, as a piece of time-leaping trivia, the same path through which the Sunkland army had invaded when revolution had consumed the empire. From there, they proceeded in secret toward the Yellowmoon domain.

You know, there’s something really satisfying about marching down this route. This is what I call poetic justice.

After all, it was through this very route that the Chaos Serpents had—indirectly but still unequivocally—cornered Mia. Now she was using it to corner them back. Every step she took filled her with vindictive glee.

Bypassing the Sealence Forest by following its perimeter, their carriages headed due north, soon arriving at a village near the Yellowmoon capital. There, they rendezvoused with Ludwig and the Princess Guard, who stood in a line at the village entrance to greet her.

“We are overjoyed by the safe return of Your Highness,” said Ludwig, taking a knee before Mia as she stepped out of the carriage.

“Yes, it’s certainly good to be back.”

Despite gesturing for him to rise, Ludwig continued kneeling and kept his head down, prompting a curious frown from Mia.

“Is...there something else you wish to say?”

After a period of silence, Ludwig replied in a grave tone, his gaze still downcast.

“No, Your Highness. I have nothing to say for myself. The blunder I have committed is inexcusable, and I can only apologize.”

“Oh? A blunder, you say?”

“Despite anticipating the fact that that assassin’s path would lead him through Belluga, I failed to keep Your Highness out of harm’s way...” he said, voice heavy with regret.

Mia’s eyes widened at the sight.

My! A glum Ludwig? Now that’s not something you see everyday! Fascinating!

She couldn’t help but stare. After all the lectures and admonishment she’d suffered from him in the previous timeline, the sight of him dejected was downright novel.

With that said, I can’t exactly leave him like this. He doesn’t look very...productive. There’s still going to be a famine to deal with soon, and I’m going to need him at his best...

She nodded to herself in thought. Then she spoke in a gentle voice.

“Arise, please. If not for you, then for me. What you speak of is not your fault, Ludwig. There will always be events that defy our expectations. As you can see, I have returned unharmed. Is that not enough?”

“But...”

He remained kneeling. Seeing this, she placed a hand under his arm and gave it a gentle tug, prompting him to look up.

“Unfortunately, we don’t have time to split hairs right now. We need to rescue Citrina as soon as possible. I’d appreciate it if you’d join me in the carriage and brief me on the situation.”

Ludwig held her gaze for a moment, then breathed a short sigh.

“I thank you, Your Highness, for granting me this chance to atone for my failings,” he said, bowing his head once more.

Mia shook hers.

“Enough with the failings. Less atoning, more rescuing. Come on, hurry up.”

Stepping into the carriage, Ludwig took note of the people inside.

There was Prince Sion and his attendant Keithwood, along with Prince Abel. These were familiar faces. The fourth person, however...

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Ludwig Hewitt. I’ve heard much about you from Princess Mia.”

Dressed in a maid’s uniform, Monica Buendia gave him a courteous smile.

“Likewise, Miss Monica. The assistance you have been providing in this matter is greatly appreciated,” replied Ludwig, returning her smile.

After exchanging friendly greetings with the other passengers, his expression sobered.

“Now, pardon my bruskness, but let us get down to business. I have it on good authority that Lady Citrina and her attendant Barbara have already returned to the Duke’s residence.”

As soon as he said that, tension filled the air.

“By returned, do you mean they’re still there, Ludwig?” asked Abel. “They’re staying at the Yellowmoon manor?”

Ludwig nodded, saying, “They arrived there yesterday.”

“A trap, then? It seems to me that they’re waiting for us...” Abel said as he crossed his arms. “I thought for sure they’d try to raise an army out of desperation.”

In taking Citrina back with her to the Yellowmoon domain, Barbara had already limited her own options. They could either force the empire into civil war or uproot their whole clan to escape abroad and live in hiding.

“Personally, I figured they’d up and vanish,” said Sion. “They might be one of the four, but I can’t see them achieving anything but their own demise through an open revolt right now. On what grounds would they rise up? Without just cause, how many men could they possibly rally? It would be a waste of soldiers’ lives. The way I see it, they’d be better off lying low somewhere and planning their next move...”

At that, Sion fell into silent contemplation. The Serpents were frightening because they lacked a fixed identity. Their shapeless, enigmatic nature meant they could be anywhere, hiding just out of sight. That uncertainty was a source of fear. Equally vexing was the fact that they seemed to operate largely as a loose collection of lone actors and displayed no tendency to gather in one place. Eliminating one or two of their members did little to the whole.

But it would do a lot to those one or two members. Once any single Serpent’s identity was revealed, they became only a minor menace. They were, in a way, like a swarm of locusts; eradicating the swarm is challenging, but each individual locust poses little threat on its own.

“Judging by the fact,” Sion finally continued, “that they’re not coming out of the manor, it might indeed be a trap...”

It was a difficult situation that furrowed the brows of everyone in the carriage, Mia included. For her, there was an added layer of complexity. Normally, in a situation like this, she’d simply tell her father that there was an attempt on her life. He’d doubtlessly mobilize the imperial army in response. Even the most devious of traps couldn’t possibly stop an army from razing the whole manor.

However, if she were to take that approach, Duke Yellowmoon’s family, for their complicity in orchestrating the incident, would be sentenced to death. Barbara, along with Duke Yellowmoon’s whole family, would be sentenced to death for their complicity in orchestrating the incident.

I won’t be able to save Rina.

She thought of Bel, who sat in the carriage behind theirs. For the sake of her granddaughter, she needed to bring Citrina back safe and sound.

Besides, if we got the army involved, Duke Yellowmoon would probably respond by raising his own troops.

She knew that if it came to war, her side was guaranteed victory, but winning wouldn’t lead to a bright future. The death of Duke Yellowmoon would cause widespread chaos throughout his domain. People would die. Fields would burn. And the next war would become that much harder to fight...because the next war would be against the great famine.

This whole affair, in other words, was nothing but a preliminary skirmish in Mia’s eyes. What mattered was securing as many advantages as possible for the true battle ahead. To that end, she couldn’t afford an extensive military engagement. If a fight was unavoidable, its scope had to be small and victory had to be swift. The only forces she could move freely were the Princess Guard and...Dion.

The Princess Guard and Dion.

She paused to consider the absurdity of that thought.

Well, I mean, Dion’s pretty much a one-man army anyway. It makes sense to think of him in the same category.

While she was affirming her belief that Dion was more military unit than man, Ludwig spoke.

“Have no fear. Should obstacles appear, I shall see to it that they are removed.” His voice was quiet, but it didn’t contain a shred of doubt. “The Princess Guard are already in the process of apprehending members of the Chaos Serpents in the empire.”

The statement elicited a round of gasps. Everyone in the carriage—save for one individual—understood how immensely difficult it was to ferret out Serpents hiding among the populace. They all wished to know how it was being done.

Naturally, all eyes shifted toward Mia, who declared, “Are they now? That’s certainly reassuring. Good work.”

And that was it! She made no attempt to inquire further, offering only a few words of appreciation. Nevertheless, no one protested the absence of details, interpreting her laissez-faire attitude as a sign of absolute faith in Ludwig’s ability to get the job done. There was, they assumed, a simple and tacit understanding between them; she spoke her wishes, and he made them come true. She gave him her trust, he lived up to it. Therefore, he did not and need not explain.

Or, some then inferred, perhaps she didn’t ask because she already knew, and it was her own meticulous instructions that Ludwig was carrying out.

The truth, though...

My, it sounds like finding Serpents is actually pretty easy. That reminds me, weren’t they supposed to reveal themselves if you read them the Central Orthodox Church’s Holy Book? Frankly, they sound like pushovers. Maybe I should give reading to them a go next time.

...Was that Mia hadn’t the foggiest clue what was going on. The backbreaking efforts of her subjects were entirely lost on her. And her profound ungratefulness was lost on them. Meanwhile, the rest of the carriage had all drawn their own misguided conclusions. Frankly, it was hard to tell if anyone correctly understood anything. The whole conversation was a long joke waiting for its punchline. But alas, it would never be delivered.