Chapter 41: Thus Shatters the Oath of Old

“No... No! Impossible! This is madness! How can it end like this? It can’t end like this...”

Her face twisted with hatred, Barbara snarled in a voice so bitter it made Mia’s hair stand on end. The furious woman glared at her, then at Lorenz and Citrina.

“Accursed princess... Ha ha... Ha ha ha... I see. So this is the Great Sage of the Empire. Well played. Your entourage of princes seem satisfied as well. But...” A malicious smile crept across her lips. “Things won’t all go your way, princess. Oh no, they won’t. Because I’m going to slit the throat of these wretched Yellowmoon traitors. Then we’ll see how your plan fares.”

The three men behind her reacted immediately, surrounding their victims in a last-ditch attempt to mar their opponent’s victory. From their position, it was impossible for Mia and her friends to reach the Yellowmoons in time. The only one close enough to act was the butler, Bisset.

The smell of impending violence filled the air. But Mia wasn’t worried. Why? Because the fight was, for all intents and purposes, already over.

And...there he is. I swear, it’s like he can smell violence or something. And I hate to admit it, but I do feel safer when he’s around.

Mia’s gaze soared over Barbara’s head to land on the figure sneaking up behind her. Dion Alaia wore the wide grin of a boy pulling off a hilarious prank. A prank that involved smashing in the faces of three men without their leader noticing. Then, standing behind a yet-oblivious Barbara, he rested his blade on her shoulder.

Ugh, the way he does that scares the living daylights out of you, thought Mia as she watched. Gives you visions of your head rolling off your neck.

A reluctant veteran of decapitation—which had included Dion’s trademark sword-on-shoulder stunt—Mia couldn’t help but feel sympathy for Barbara, but not enough for her to step in and stop him. She was content with sending thoughts and prayers.

“...Huh?”

The sudden developments proved too bewildering for Barbara to process. She stared at the sword, then at Dion, who beamed at her.

“For a group who went out of their way to avoid fighting me, you made a pretty bad call at the end. Got too greedy for your own good. Had you stuck to your avoidance strategy, you’d have saved these three fellows a lot of pain.” He tsked and shook his head. “Gotta learn when to let go.”

Barbara frantically looked around. Seeing the unconscious forms of her henchmen on the ground, she bared her teeth.

“Fools... Such fools! Curse you, Alaia. You imperial dog.”

“Dog, eh? Guess they’ll have to change my title to Empire’s Goodest Boy then.” He smirked. “I hope you won’t mind getting your throat slit by a mutt.”

At that, Mia hastily signaled for him to stop.

“Apprehend her alive, please. We might be able to pull some useful information out of her, so I’d like to hand her over to Miss Rafina.”

“As you wish,” he said before shrugging and binding Barbara’s arms. “Honestly, you’re too soft on these people. But then again, you’re the brains here. I just woof.”

A figure dashed past Mia, toward the now-freed Yellowmoons.

“Rina!”

Seeing that the situation was fully resolved, Bel made a beeline for Citrina, catching her in a running embrace.

“Rina! Oh, Rina!”

As Bel’s arms closed around the slender body and squeezed with all their strength, Citrina’s eyes remained vacant. She stared blankly forward, face devoid of expression, as though she couldn’t process the series of events that had just occurred. But then, ever so softly...

“...Bel?”

...She spoke her friend’s name. Her gray eyes clouded with tears, which soon gave way to a glistening river of emotion that flowed down her delicate cheeks.

“Bel...”

Her lips quivered. Her mouth opened, then closed. An ocean of feelings pushed against her chest, seeking release, but she seemed to have lost all her words. In the end, the only one her trembling voice managed to produce was the name of her dear friend.

“Bel...”

And then, even that was gone, leaving her with only the raw, fitful release of unchecked emotion. She wept. Openly and with all her heart.

“It’s okay, Rina... I’m here. And I always will be.”

With the most tender of touches, Bel patted her friend’s back.

“Does... Does this mean it’s over?”

Lorenz watched his daughter’s tearful outpouring in a daze. His limbs seemed to have lost the ability to function. His life was no longer at the mercy of enemy blades. The hands holding him down were gone. Nevertheless, he remained on the ground, the thought of compelling his legs to stand too monumental a task for his frayed psyche.

In truth, the only person who could void the oath with the first emperor was the current reigning one. Lorenz was fully aware of that fact, and he could only assume Mia was as well. But she’d said it anyway. And there was a significance to that.

Those words of hers are a shield. With them, I can deflect any future demands to carry out assassinations. On top of that, His Imperial Majesty is deeply fond of Her Highness. Should she request it, he may indeed choose to endorse them.

Despite that knowledge, true relief escaped him. The chains around his soul had been there too long, and their weight, magnified by the empire’s long history, was too heavy to remove so easily. His was an ancient curse, cast upon him in the womb. And that burden, with all its crushing gravity and consequence, was no more? Just like that? Without the shedding of a single drop of blood? It didn’t seem real. He could but stare with disbelief at the dreamlike sequence playing out before him.

“Cursed Yellowmoons... The Serpents will come for you. One day, we shall sink our fangs into your necks.”

Barbara’s contemptuous voice drifted into his ears. Curiously, it was the bitterness of her words that drove the intangible specters of fear from his mind, allowing the solid substance of reality to take their place. It dawned on him then. At last. At long last.

“Ah, Barbara, she who embodies the Serpents’ will... Listen well, for it is now that I can, with the profundity of life lived and fear known, finally speak my mind.”

His next words, he spoke to Barbara, but their essence—the deep poignancy contained within them—was surely not meant for her ears alone. There were many who likely deserved them. The Chaos Serpents who’d tormented his house for generations, for example. Or maybe the first emperor, who’d condemned them to this fate. For whomever the words were meant, he spoke them with verve.

“Eat shit, Chaos Serpents!” he bellowed with the expression of a man experiencing cathartic vindication. “Eat shit, you steaming turd of a first emperor!”

It was the triumphant cry from the soul of generations of Yellowmoons.

Thus shattered the oath of old, its ancient chains severed by the hands of a young princess in whom flowed the first emperor’s blood.

The Yellowmoon manor was quickly occupied by the Princess Guard. Inside, they found only a handful of Serpents, all of whom had already been knocked out by Dion. Presumably, Barbara had preemptively evacuated the majority of her accomplices, with the intent of making a last stand here on her own.

“Huh. The Serpents might be mad, but I suppose there’s a method to their madness,” said a surprised Mia, who’d expected to see every last underling used as sacrificial pawns in a ruthless attempt to escape.

After the commotion had subsided, Lorenz asked to speak with Mia in his quarters.

“While I’d prefer to know as much about the Serpents as possible, it sounds like this is going to involve a lot of internal Tearmoon affairs, so we’ll excuse ourselves from the conversation for now,” said Sion.

Abel nodded.

“Agreed. Someone should probably stay with Miss Bel and Miss Citrina too. We’ll head over to them.”

So, Mia bade a temporary farewell to Sion and Abel, who were followed by Keithwood and Monica.

“Hm... In that case, I guess it’ll be Anne, Ludwig, and Dion who come with me.”

Being accompanied by Ludwig was fine, since he was the brains of the operation, but the thought of Dion looming behind her was still anxiety-inducing. Not having a reliable bodyguard was even more anxiety-inducing though, so she reluctantly chose to endure his presence, figuring she’d rely on Anne for some psychological solace. Anne, catching her glance, beamed.

“Oh, you can count on me, milady! I’ve got your back!”

She gave her chest a confident thump, clearly thrilled to be brought along. Maybe a little too thrilled. Mia gave her a resigned smile.

“Well, my back is clearly in good hands then. Ludwig and Dion, I’m also counting on the two of you. Specifically, I’m counting on you to keep an eye on Anne so she doesn’t get too excited and put herself in danger.”

“Wha— Oh, that’s such a mean thing to say!”

The two girls traded giggling quips all the way to Lorenz’s room, whereupon Mia was greeted by a pleasant aroma upon opening the door.

“My...”

She sniffed a few times. It smelled of something sweet...and fresh out of the oven.

Black tea and...some sort of pastry, I believe. Ah, there they are on the table. If my eyes don’t deceive me, that’s a tart made with Perujin apples.

After quietly studying Lorenz for a moment, she privately murmured, “Hm... This man...knows what he’s doing!”

In an impressive display of perception, it’d taken her all of a second to detect her opponent’s power level. With regard to sweets. Which was just about the most useless type of perception one could display, but anyway...

“I apologize for troubling you during this hectic time, Your Highness, but there are some things that I must bring to your attention.” Lorenz got to his feet and bowed at the waist. “By your leave, I would speak upon these matters.”

Mia gestured at him to be at ease.

“Please, there is no need for such formality. I also wished to ask about a few things, so this is in fact perfect timing,” she said, eyes still laser focused on the steaming tart.

Those taste best when they’re fresh. Ah, I wish I could take a bite right now!

She gulped before quickly taking a seat. Then, with the intent tone of someone who wished to sort things out as quickly as possible, she said, “Oh, in case you were wondering, I’ve decided to overlook the whole business of Rina luring me into a trap. The last thing I want is for father to find out and raise a fuss, so I’d appreciate it if you kept a tight lip. Am I understood?”

It was all too easy to imagine the hysteria that would follow if the doting emperor heard that his beloved daughter came this close to losing her life. She’d just experienced a brush with death and survived. She didn’t want to then die of a headache in the ensuing fallout. To that end, she made it a point to remind everyone that what happened in Bandoor Village stayed in Bandoor Village.

And let’s not forget, there was a tart waiting to be eaten, so the quicker they wrapped this up, the better.

As of this moment, she was no longer just the Mushroom Princess. She was Sweets-Princess-cum-Reconciler Mia! That’s Sweet-Pri-Cu-Re Mia for short!

The casual manner with which she pardoned the offense against her was in sharp contrast to Lorenz, who was moved to tears.

“Words cannot express my gratitude, Your Highness...” he said in a trembling voice.

With the weightier topics out of the way, Lorenz finally sat back down across from Mia as Bisset placed the tart on the table and began to cut it. His knife bit into the crust with a pleasing crunch, releasing a waft of buttery steam that was followed by the tantalizing scent of apples. Mia swallowed a mouthful of drool as the aroma drifted up her nose. Her eyes were glued to the tart. She stared at it as if the force of her will alone could speed the process along. Her muscles tensed with anticipation, and her hands began to shake. Noticing this exaggerated reaction of her own body, a wry smile crept across Mia’s lips.

That reminds me, ever since we rushed back from Belluga, I haven’t had anything sweet to eat...

Already starved for sugar, her brain then suffered through an intense workout. By now, it was running on the wispy fumes of burnt caramel. Immediate refueling was necessary!

She gulped yet again as the plate with her tart slice was finally placed before her. The second Bisset retracted his hand, she devoured it whole. Chewing it chipmunk-style, she savored the crunchiness of the crust breaking apart between her teeth. Its sugary filling flowed across her tongue, enveloping it in sweetness so saturated it bordered on sickly. The rush of tangy apple afterward, however, diluted it just enough to hit the—no pun intended—sweet spot.

Pure bliss permeated her mouth.

“Mmm! I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. Nothing beats Perujin fruits!” she exclaimed, beaming through a mouthful of tart.

Bisset stared at her in shock.

“...Your Highness, are you certain that was entirely appropriate? To simply...eat the tart? It has yet to be tested for poison. Though it gives me no joy to dredge up the matter, I must nonetheless respectfully remind you that you are seated in what was, until mere hours ago, still enemy territory.”

The curious tilt of Mia’s head suggested she couldn’t fathom his concern.

“Hm? What an odd thing to say. Poison? And ruin such a delicious tart? Why would anyone do that? I fail to see the point,” she said, asserting that no one in their right mind would do something so wasteful to a good tart.

Which made perfect sense in her head, because she wasn’t in her right mind either. The long drought of sweets had robbed her brain of all reason and composure. In her current state, she’d gladly sell her palace for a cake. She was nearing the “a cake is worth a thousand forts” stage of sugar deficiency. That is, the terminal stage.

“I must say though, I was quite astonished to discover that you’re a former Wind Crow. The way you fooled those Serpents earlier was simply marvelous. A brilliant display of skill and wit.”

Having enjoyed a tasty tart, Mia’s mood experienced a significant upswing, and she showered Bisset with praise.

“I’m most flattered, Your Highness,” said Bisset with a calm and respectful smile.

At that point, Ludwig interrupted the conversation.

“My deepest apologies, Your Highness. I should have notified you as soon as Duke Yellowmoon spoke to me. It is—”

“No, the good gentleman did nothing wrong, Your Highness.” Lorenz held out a hand to appease Ludwig. “It is I who requested him to keep this entire affair a secret...in order to ascertain your character. For us Yellowmoons, the true nature of your person was very literally a matter of life and death. We needed to be absolutely sure. Nevertheless, it is a deep affront to have tested you in this way. Please accept my sincerest apologies.”

He lowered his head to within an inch of the table. Ludwig followed suit, adding, “Lord Yellowmoon asked to witness your natural disposition. To see whether you would take their side without any foreknowledge of their plans. In order to gain Lord Yellowmoon’s trust, I decided against notifying Your Highness of our correspondence. Though I regret the necessity of such secrecy, I did so in the knowledge that your brilliance would surely prevail. Your Highness is, after all, the kind of person who, when given a single piece of information, will infer ten facts and see a hundred futures.”

“Am I now? Well... In that case, I suppose it was a necessary evil. You did the right thing.”

Mia nodded, her ego swelling. She was the kind of person who welcomed praise. She was also the kind of person who, when given a single piece of information, would infer maybe half a fact from it, then see visions of a hundred sweets from the sheer effort it took. Frankly, even if Ludwig had spilled the beans, it probably wouldn’t have changed much.

“In any case, now that there’s no longer any need for secrecy,” said Mia, “I believe it’s time you told us the full story, Duke Lorenz Etoile Yellowmoon.”

There were countless things she wanted to know about the Serpents, the House of Yellowmoon, and all the untold stories that had occurred behind the curtains of the empire’s history.

“Very well. Where shall I begin...” Lorenz took a moment to consider, took a long breath, then nodded. “Perhaps...the beginning would be best. At the oath between the House of Yellowmoon and the first emperor...”

Lorenz was thoroughly astonished by Mia’s actions.

The possibility of it being poisoned...wasn’t even a consideration...

She’d eaten the tart without the slightest hesitation and beamed as she declared it delicious. Admittedly, the likelihood of them trying to harm Mia at this point was close to nil. As things now stood, opposing the princess would be an act of suicide for the House of Yellowmoon, likely dooming not only Lorenz but also Citrina. This was a self-evident fact, easily revealed by a rational analysis of the situation. Therefore, she’d harbored no doubts when reaching for the tart...

No, that’s not true...

Lorenz knew better, for he’d seen evidence to the contrary. His wary eyes had not missed the slight trembling of Mia’s hands. Nor the way her eyes had tracked Bisset’s fingers with an intense, unblinking focus.

But of course... A wise person wouldn’t ignore the possibility of poison. It’s unlikely, yes, but the suspicion remains. There’s no way to dismiss it entirely. Only the blithest of fools could be completely ignorant of the risk.

It wasn’t a lack of hesitation. She’d felt, wrestled with, and defeated her hesitation, all so she could take the first bite of a tart that might kill her. Mia hadn’t been ignorant of a potential poisoning; she’d done so in spite of that possibility, out of necessity—the necessity to demonstrate her unequivocal trust in Lorenz.

It wasn’t foolhardiness. She’d weighed the risk of being poisoned against winning the trust of us Yellowmoons...and chosen the latter. And that was after she’d declared that Citrina’s grievous treachery was all water under the bridge. The lengths she’s going to, it’s... I can’t even...

He closed his eyes, taking a moment to delve into past memories. The face of his teacher, to whom his teenage self owed so much, materialized in his mind.

“If you wish to accomplish something, then arm yourself with knowledge. Even if you don’t currently know what to strive for, don’t stop accruing knowledge. Keep learning, keep studying, tirelessly, in preparation for the day when you do know. All that remains after is to wait for your opportunity to arise.”

He opened his eyes, the vision giving way to reality. Before him stood the young princess, her visage so reminiscent of the one in his memory. A surge of emotions welled up in his chest, and he exhaled them through a long breath. Then...

“Perhaps...the beginning would be best. At the oath between the House of Yellowmoon and the first emperor...”

...He proceeded to tell the story.

The story of the curse that had bound the House of Yellowmoon for a long, long time.

“As I understand it, the first emperor and our Yellowmoon ancestor were kin. The two had both despaired of the world and resolved to destroy it.”

The establishment of anti-agriculturalism and the founding of the Tearmoon Empire were all but means to accomplish one initial goal. It was a revenge plot of epic proportions, devised to drag the entire world into mayhem.

“The Yellowmoons were given two roles to play. The first, which Your Highness likely already knows, was to secretly eliminate threats to the empire and the Serpents. The second...was to become the next imperial family.”

“The...next imperial family?” asked a baffled Mia. “What does that mean?”

Lorenz shrugged.

“Exactly what it sounds like. Specifically, when the current imperial family is toppled by famine and revolution, our family is supposed to claim the throne, continuing the dynasty not in name but in essence. And we’re meant to be constantly maneuvering behind the scenes to ready ourselves for this eventuality. Then, when someone from our lineage becomes the next ruler, they shall continue the effort to disseminate anti-agriculturalist beliefs throughout the land. We are to reign until revolution claims us again. That is both our role and our reward.”

The system known as the Tearmoon Empire was designed to fail. Catastrophic collapse was not a fault but a feature. Anti-agriculturalist beliefs would spoil vast amounts of farmland. The ensuing famine would then give rise to revolution, leading to a messy, protracted civil war in which widespread slaughter would taint the land. And like an undying curse, it would occur again and again, drenching this fertile crescent with endless tears of suffering. The Tearmoon Empire was a self-repeating mechanism, meant to unleash recurring cycles of tragedy upon its victims.

That was why the ensuing dynasty must not be led by a wise ruler. The revolution had to be championed by agents of pure chaos who wished to destroy order, and nothing more. Those who sought the destruction of an old order to instill a new one would not do.

“After the fall of the Tearmoon line, the Yellowmoons would reign. And when the Yellowmoons fell...another destroyer of order would take the throne. That way, dynasty after dynasty, blood and death would continue to stain the land. Such is the creation of the first emperor.”

“Hmm... But why would you continue to participate in such an awful scheme?” Mia asked with a puzzled frown. “It’d make some sense if the imperial family is still following in the first emperor’s footsteps, but I’d never heard of any such plot. I’m pretty sure fa—His Majesty doesn’t have the foggiest clue any of this ever happened.”

“Indeed. The imperial family has, as of a number of generations ago, forgotten about the first emperor’s ancient will. We Yellowmoons, however, have not. That original oath has become our dream. Our hope. The irresistible light at the end of a long, dark tunnel. Lured by it, we’ve continued to maneuver in secret throughout the ages.”

And that was the curse placed on the Yellowmoons by the first emperor.

The one to inherit the crumbled throne had to be the weakest and most ridiculed of the Four Houses. Those who benefited from the established structures would never start a revolution to destroy it. Thus, the Yellowmoons were made to suffer the denigrating disdain of their peers, year after year, generation after generation. Over time, the malice and humiliation they endured gave rise to a deep desire for a future in which they ruled.

“Our circumstances are but a stepping stone! We endure our current weakness and indignity so that we may prosper in the future. The day this empire falls will be the day our era arrives!”

The more they clung to this hope, the firmer their alliance with the Serpents became.

“Our mothers and fathers, grandparents and ancestors...they all suffered. And they all endured. So that our descendants can thrive. So that one of them becomes the next emperor. Our forebears bore their humiliation for us. We must not let their resolve go to waste.”

Part of the curse was their own inability to cut their losses. The heads of Yellowmoon were all faced with the same question. Knowing their clan had endured so much to get to the current point, could they abandon the goal, quashing with their own hands the culmination of lifetimes of effort? How could they allow a wish—a vital hope—harbored by and inherited from their parents to end unrealized with their generation?

“Even so, there have been other heads of Yellowmoon like me, who resented the deeds of death and destruction. But...none of them could escape the Serpents’ hold. Once was enough. Stain your hands with blood once, and the Serpents would forever use it for blackmail. A single assassination became a lifelong shackle, and these good people were worn down by their futile struggle against the snakes’ demands. They grew tired...and embraced the promise of future glory, however fleeting it might prove to be, in exchange for peace of mind as they ceded control of their lives to the Serpents.”

That was why Lorenz wanted no part in any assassination.

“I see. So that’s how it was...” said a pensive Ludwig. “All the more impressive, then, that you’ve managed to avoid taking a life all this time. Had it been me, I suspect I would have folded long ago.”

His sober tone elicited a calm smile from Lorenz.

“I managed, Ludwig, because of the encouragement I received from a certain individual. This person told me that if I wanted to accomplish something, then I should acquire knowledge. I should seek it out, tirelessly and ravenously. Then, I should wait for my opportunity to arise.”

True to the advice, he devoted himself to his studies.

“My, what a fascinating individual,” said Mia with a sense of wonder.

Lorenz’s smile deepened.

“Yes, Your Highness, your grandmother was indeed a fascinating individual. Her Majesty was undoubtedly one of a kind.”

“My...grandmother? I see. I never knew her, but...”

“I can see traces of her in you, Your Highness. She...was also a wise woman.”

“Wise like me, you say?” Mia pursed her lips and nodded thoughtfully. “Hm, I wish I could have met her then...”

Note that she made no attempt to deny the “wise” part. Not even out of modesty. Mia took her wins where she could get them.

“Ah, but I digress. Let us return to the issues at hand. I believe you still have plenty of questions for me?”

“True. Back on topic then.” Lorenz’s comment prompted Mia to straighten herself and refocus. “First, the Chaos Serpents. I’d like you to tell us everything you know about them. What kind of an organization are they?”

“An organization? Hm...” he murmured before sinking into silent contemplation.

“Oh? Did I say something strange?”

“...No. But I’m not entirely sure if the Chaos Serpents can be accurately described as an ‘organization.’”

“Then...they’re not an organization?” asked Mia, frowning.

Lorenz frowned as well.

“I suppose it depends on the definition...but at the very least, they’re nothing like the heretical cults that we’re familiar with. I’m sure you’re aware of this, but unlike cults, the Serpents don’t operate as an orderly whole. Each Serpent has their own goals and acts according to their own plans. They might cooperate with other Serpents at times, but not through any hierarchy or power structure. They all move independently, by their own guiding compass, which all happen to point in the same direction.”

Lorenz paused for a breath, then concluded, “Which is why...my personal understanding of the Chaos Serpents is that they are not so much an organization as a trend.”

“A trend?”

“Yes. Not the reed in the river, but the current that pushes it. A current flowing within the larger course of history...which seeks to destroy order.”

Mia visualized the metaphor, imagining herself trying to push back a river. No matter how hard she fought it, how much water she scooped out, she could not stop its flow. If Barbara and Jem were just drops of water in that mighty stream, then foiling them might ultimately be in vain. The stream would keep flowing.

“Pardon. I’m beginning to speak in the abstract. Let me give some specific examples. The people who make up the Chaos Serpents can largely be divided into four categories,” said Lorenz as he took a nearby cookie and placed it on the large plate in front of him. The cookie was round, and a small fruit sat at its center.

My, where did that come from? I was so focused on the tart I must have missed it. Mmm, it looks good...

All this serious talk had depleted the sugar she’d consumed from the tart, and she was running on caramel fumes agai— Ah, just kidding. Her sugar mileage wasn’t that bad. Anyway.

“First, there are those like me. Reluctant collaborators, who had their arms twisted into helping. Next, willing collaborators. Those who are using the Chaos Serpents in an attempt to further their own ends. The first emperor, for example, would in my opinion belong to this category. As far as I can tell, he didn’t seem to resonate with the philosophy of the Serpents. He was either using their philosophy for his own purposes, or found that their goals aligned with his, so it made sense to cooperate. In any case, there exist people who assist the Serpents of their own volition,” he said, placing a second cookie on the plate.

“Hmm...”

Her arms crossed, Mia nodded along. Her eyes were glued to the new cookie. It was also round, but bore a crosshatched pattern. What fine handiwork. Was it made here? If so, the Yellowmoons must have a pretty good pastry chef in their service.

If her thoughts seem a little distracted, know that her brain was to blame. It was craving sweets, but it wasn’t getting them! An inadequately fueled brain was going to lose focus. That’s just how brains worked.

“Then, there are those who resonate with the Serpents’ beliefs and work proactively to further their ends. These, we call adherents. The three men Barbara brought were likely adherents.”

Lorenz added a third cookie. This one was covered with white powder, almost as if it were adorned with snow. It was something Mia had never seen before, and it caught her attention immediately.

Fascinat— Whoops. Okay, focus. I need to focus on the conversation... Where were we again? Right, Serpent adherents!

“Finally...”

Lorenz took a fourth cookie but paused before placing it down. It was large and leaf-shaped.

My... That cookie...it looks exquisite. Delights both the eyes and the tongue. A work of art, doubtlessly made by a true artisan... That reminds me. I wonder if they can make a horse-shaped cookie. Or maybe a mushroom-shaped cookie. Oh! What if the bottom part of the mushroom is a plain cookie, but the cap is covered with some sort of chocolate or jam? I think I’m onto something here...

There was a surprising prescience to this idea of hers—albeit of the far, far future—but she shook her head and dismissed it.

Ack, come on, focus! We’re talking about the Serpents right now! Focus... Focus... Okay. So, Serpent cookies. What’s the deal with them again?

Oblivious to the intense battle between a brain and the allure of sweets being fought in front of him, Lorenz continued his explanation.

“There are those who preach the ideology of the Serpents. They go from place to place, spreading the teachings of The Book of Those Who Crawl the Earth. These, we refer to as Serpent shamans.”

Lorenz added the leaf-shaped cookie to the plate. Then, as Mia eyed the mouth-watering quartet, he snatched them all up in one fell swoop and stuffed them into his mouth. As he munched on them, cheeks even more bloated than Mia’s had been, pure delight radiated from his expression.

“Mmmm... The one thing I’ve always believed about cookies is that nibbling does them a disservice,” he said after a satisfied gulp. “Nothing beats the bliss of biting down on a great mouthful of doughy goodness.”

Spoken like a true gourmand. Lorenz was clearly a veteran of the F.A.T. lifestyle.

“I... I see...”

Mia managed only a perfunctory response before hanging her head in silence, crushed by the sad reality that those cookies would never be hers.

They looked so good too... Aaah, I wish I could have tried them...

“Serpent shamans... Would it be appropriate to consider these individuals the main body of the Chaos Serpents? Their true essence, so to speak?” asked Ludwig who, noticing that Mia had retreated into quiet contemplation, picked up the conversational slack.

“Not exactly. This is only my personal opinion, but I believe the true essence of the Serpents is something that flows in the deep underbelly of people’s hearts. It joins them to one another.”

“By which you mean...”

“By which I mean...the Serpents’ bible, The Book of Those Who Crawl the Earth.”

A soft clink entered Mia’s ears, pulling her from her misery. She blinked to find a plate had been set on the table before her.

“Ah—”

On the plate was a heaping myriad of cookies! With bountiful representation of each type of the Lost Quartet to boot! Apparently, Bisset had removed her empty tart plate and replaced it with a cookie platter.

What exemplary butlering! This man clearly knows what he’s doing!

She had every intention of reaching for them immediately, but the sudden awareness of a number of intent gazes on her stilled her hand. Both Ludwig and Lorenz were eyeing her expectantly. Even Dion was regarding her with interest. And a smile that somehow conveyed less humor than a glare would have.

U-Uh oh. Something tells me this is no time to be fooling around.

She sighed. With great reluctance, she pulled her eyes away from the cookies.

It’s okay. The cookies won’t run away. I can always eat them later. It’s just a matter of waiting for the right moment. For now, I need to be patient...

She forced the idle clockwork of her brain back into motion. It did so with a crunch, recalling the details of their ongoing conversation.

“...The Book of Those Who Crawl the Earth.”

The title rang a bell.

“I remember Miss Rafina talking about that. That Jem fellow had a copy with him, didn’t he?”

Though she hadn’t flipped through it herself, she remembered feeling uncomfortable around it. There was something about the book that, even when recalled through memory, gave her the creeps. There was a crunch as she shuddered.

“Yes,” answered Lorenz. “Like you said, it wasn’t the original, but he did indeed have a copy.”

“What kind of book is it?”

He shook his head.

“Unfortunately, I’ve never seen the book myself. Only the transcription of ‘Kingdombane’ that Jem used to have,” he said, before letting out a weary chuckle. “Barbara didn’t quite trust me enough to divulge any more information. Which was probably justified, considering this long-planned betrayal I’ve just sprung on her.”

“I see... That’s a shame. But the way you describe it, with how it joins people and controls them, makes it sound like magic. Is The Book of Those Who Crawl the Earth actually some sort of magical tome?” asked Mia, remembering that such things had appeared in Elise’s drafts. There was a crunch as she pursed her lips in thought.

“Magic, you say?”

Lorenz frowned, taken aback by the suggestion. However, he soon chuckled.

“Oh? Did something come to mind?”

“No, no. I was simply surprised to hear from Your Highness’s mouth the word ‘magic.’”

His expression then sobered.

“But...perhaps you are right. Wise, even, to call the book magical. In a way, it’s the perfect description. It does, after all, affect the mind in a most mystical manner, transmuting normal people into destroyers of order. The way it drastically changes the lives of people it touches... It might indeed be fitting to consider such power sorcery.” Then, noticing Ludwig’s expression, he held up his hands and added, “Oh, do not misunderstand me, Ludwig. I’m not suggesting the existence of warlocks and wizardry. Especially when it’s perfectly possible to manipulate the hearts of man with techniques far more earthly.”

“My, is it? How would one go about doing so?” asked Mia.

Lorenz chuckled at her dubious look.

“How indeed. Let’s see... Does Your Highness read at all?”

“Read? Well...I certainly do read. More than most, I’d say.”

There was a crunch as she counted with her fingers the books she’d recently read.

“Lately, I’ve been enjoying a number of romance novels I borrowed from a friend,” she said, growing more talkative as the topic shifted to a field of her expertise. “In particular, this one about a knight and a princess in love is just— Hnnngh! There’s this scene at a lake, and it’s so good!”

“Ha ha ha, I see. Then let me ask again. While you were reading that book, did you ever wish you could experience such love yourself?”

“Experience such love for myself? Hmm... I guess that would be very nice.”

Mia imagined herself walking along a lake at night with Abel while gazing up at the moon and stars, the air thick with romance as they indulged in saccharine banter...

Yes! Yes! Sweet moons, that sounds amazing!

She was promptly and profoundly influenced by the book.

“Then suppose there was a book that made everyone who read it wish for love. Could you therefore say that this book was a magical tome that had the power to exert influence over the minds of its readers?”

“Huh. Well...”

She found herself seriously considering the question. Framed in that fashion, it did make sense. If the condition for being magical was the ability to exert influence over minds, then regular novels certainly fit the bill. There was a crunch as Mia leaned back and withdrew into her memories.

It wasn’t just romance novels. She knew better than anyone how the simplest of tales could have a lasting effect on one’s heart. During her hopeless time in the dungeon, Elise’s story had been a small but radiant beacon in the darkness. The influence it had exerted on her mind was unquestionable, taking what had and would have continued to be endless days of despair, and changing them, just a little, for the better.

“But surely, it doesn’t have the power to change objective reality. To refer to it as ‘magic’ seems a touch like hyperbole,” said Ludwig.

Lorenz smiled at this critique and shook his head.

“I suspect, Ludwig, that you are under a slight misconception. You wouldn’t be the first either. Many smart thinkers succumb to the same error. Our minds and the objective reality around us are far more interconnected than you may think.” He closed his eyes. “Consider the world. What comprises it? People. People build towns. Erect kingdoms. Create cultures. Amass knowledge. What guides people then? What determines how they act? It is their minds. Or, you could say, their philosophies, values, and faiths.”

“So you mean to say that the Serpents’ bible, this Book of Those Who Crawl the Earth...is a text that embeds the desire to destroy order in the minds of those who read it?” Ludwig frowned at his own comment. “But wait... If memory serves, the copy held by that man Jem was, if anything, a dissertation of methodology on how to topple a kingdom.”

The version of the biblical text obtained by Rafina was more of a practical guide, detailing ways to bring a kingdom to its knees. It didn’t contain anything that read like an attempt to brainwash the reader.

Lorenz readily affirmed this apparent contradiction.

“You’re absolutely right. What was written in that copy were the actual steps one should take to destroy the form of order we know as a kingdom. As you mentioned, it’s a how-to, not a manifesto. But consider this, Ludwig. Between handing you a sword and tempting you to kill someone you hate, and giving you nothing and simply telling you to do so, which method do you think would be more likely to entice you to action?”

It was a question of effectiveness. Writing a vaguely-worded call-to-action that amounted to “go out there and wreck yourself some kingdoms” was one thing, but providing a detailed instruction manual for getting it done was another thing entirely. The latter was clearly superior.

“I see,” said a contemplative Mia. “Who would have thought something like that exists... And where might these copies be?”

“The Serpent shamans I mentioned earlier are said to always keep a copy on their person. To use when preaching their beliefs, presumably. Those contain only a portion of the actual book though. I’ve also heard that higher-ranking shamans have memorized the book’s contents and can recite it by heart. As for the exact location of the book itself...it remains a mystery to this day.”

Though discouraged by this answer, Mia perked up when Lorenz continued in a lower but more compelling tone.

“However... Just as the Central Orthodox Church has Saint Rafina, I’ve heard that the Serpents also have their own icon who rallies the shamans. She is known as the high priestess.”

“The high priestess...of the Chaos Serpents?”

“Yes, and it is my personal suspicion that this person is holding the original manuscript of the Book of Those Who Crawl the Earth.”

Mia gulped at this ominous revelation as her hand slid across the table toward the plate. On second thought, maybe she gulped for other reasons. Regardless, she made her move, pointedly not looking down to avoid drawing attention to her action. It wasn’t, for the record, because she’d identified the most opportune moment. She just couldn’t resist anymore. Figuring she’d waited long enough to have earned at least one bite, she reached for the plate...and felt nothing but empty air.

Huh? M-My... That’s odd. Where did all those delicious-looking cookies go?

Surprised, she glanced at the plate, only to find it...

“Milady... You’ve had far too much to eat,” said a frowning Anne. “A tart and five whole cookies... You’ve been eating through this whole conversation.”

“...Huh?”

Mia lifted a questioning eyebrow. Eating? When? It sounded absurd. At least until she touched the corner of her mouth, where she discovered what felt very much like a large crumb. She pushed it into her mouth and bit down. There was an audible crunch.

Wha— But, how? When did I— Huh?

“You’re going to start putting on weight if you eat any more.”

“But... But...”

Due to having unconsciously eaten the cookies, their taste was entirely lost on her. Just as her expression began to cloud with sorrow, a single cookie was held out to her.

“Oh, milady...” said Anne in a kind but mildly admonishing voice. “Last one, okay?”

She smiled. Mia beamed.

“Oh, you really are the best, Anne! My absolute trustiest subject!”

...Same old Mia, same old exchange. Some things never change.

But some things do.

And so it went. After abolishing the ancient oath, Mia took leave of the Yellowmoon manor. Unfettered from the bonds of old, she was now free to drift with the current of the times. Where it would take her...was still anyone’s guess.

Part 3: A New Oath Between the Moon and Stars II Fin

Part 3 will continue for a tiny bit longer.