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“When you say the Demihuman Liberation Front, you mean that mysterious armed group aiming to eliminate prejudice against oppressed races like elves and beastfolk, improve their social status, and engaging in acts of terror such as threatening, assassinating, or kidnapping officials within the Saintess Church or the Livitium Imperial Kingdom?”

Hearing Viola’s concise explanation:

“Improving the status of elves? That’s the prejudice right there. Who do they think they are?”
“Exactly. It’s that typical ‘hero complex’ logic: any means are justified for a noble cause.”
“What they’re doing is just plain crime. And if people put us in the same category as those people, it just makes things even more uncomfortable for us.”
“How cruel. Assassinations, kidnappings… I can’t believe humans are capable of such acts.”

Pryui, Laika, and Eleanore—the elves and beastfolk directly affected—were outraged. And, as usual, Coppelia was along for the ride.

As expected, Ashimi snorted, muttering, “Ridiculous. You Beans are utterly foolish,” and focused on his garlic rice.

Still, the Demihuman Liberation Front, huh? If they’re targeting even members of the Saintess Church, then…

“—Oh? Could it be… that even I, being the Shrine Maiden Princess, might have been a target for a terrorist attack that day…?”

Unwillingly elevated to the position of the Church’s Shrine Maiden Princess, I would indeed be considered a mortal enemy by extremists like that. I personally want to foster harmony among the races, but the path to being understood is clearly full of thorns.

“Perhaps. Well, yesterday’s welcome ceremony was decided almost at the last minute. The Demihuman Liberation Front may not have had time to prepare an attack on the Shrine Maiden Princess. And King Aulanthia was attacked on the way back from his suburban residence… so in that sense, you’ve narrowly escaped death.”
“That’s right. That was some incredible luck.”

I agreed with Princess Lieselotte, who frowned as she spoke.

Also, if I were potentially a target, that makes Letindüte particularly dangerous, since it has so many unpredictable visitors. It might be wise to increase security personnel and further reinforce magical barriers and protective wards.

Electric currents, barbed wire, land mines, snipers… as I pondered potential self-defense measures, Princess Lieselotte nodded firmly:

“Mm, I agree. Those attackers were extraordinarily lucky.”
“They would have been completely wiped out otherwise.”
“—Tch. Such fortunate terrorists.”

Viola and Coppelia quickly echoed that sentiment—but then…

“Eh—!?!”
You’re talking about them?

“—So, in the end, the culprits are those Demiglace Lickety Fruit, right?”
“The Demihuman Liberation Front. And don’t you dare serve yourself seconds again, Bruno!”
“Right, right, that one.”

Even being scolded by Eren didn’t faze him. Bruno calmly went to the kitchen and fetched another helping of garlic rice.

“Mm. Apparently, leaflets were distributed in the lower town. They read: ‘Death upon Count Aulanthia. He’s the root of prejudice against Demihumans. This is a warning. —Demihuman Liberation Front.’”
“…………”

At that moment, it felt as if the blood at my feet had frozen.

“Was King Aulanthia assassinated?”
Luke asked Lieselotte with an expression so serious it was almost frightening.

“So they claimed, but the Aulanthia family only submitted a request stating: ‘The head of the family wishes to be excused from public duties for health reasons.’”

“—Well, they couldn’t very well announce that the head of the family had been assassinated, could they?”
Viola shrugged lightly.

“The odds are probably fifty-fifty…”
Jesse crossed his arms and muttered.

“No, I think it’s more likely a bluff.”
Those words came from Cestlavie, who had remained silent until now.

He regarded us skeptically—specifically, myself, Coppelia, and Luke—before continuing as if instructing us:

“Did you forget? Emil is always by Count Aulanthia’s side. He’s the demon who became the adopted son of the previous sir Emil and takes his name—Regulus. Thirty human years is only equal to about eight to ten demon years. Even back then, he already possessed mana capacity comparable to yours, Jill. If he’s been training since then, then he must be in his prime now.”

“““—Ah.”””

♦♢♦♢

Outskirts of Cilento Central Capital—

Along a peaceful country road dotted with royal and noble villas, a black carriage reserved for aristocrats sped toward the capital, escorted by ten mounted knights riding ahead and behind.

Inside the carriage sat a gentleman with graying hair, seemingly around fifty, and beside him, a young girl of about ten, dressed in a gown. Facing them were two men: one a youth dressed like a butler in a tuxedo, white shirt, and black tie, the other a middle-aged man with an authoritative air.

“…Good grief, Eloise really is a handful. To feign illness and refuse to leave her room even for me… she clearly has no intention of attending the ceremony.”
“Normally, it would be proper for the Master to be accompanied by his legal wife, Lady Simonetta, so Lady Eloise is likely exercising restraint.”

Recalling the stubborn attitude of his concubine left behind at the now-out-of-sight villa, the graying gentleman—Corrad Simon Hercules Aulanthia, King of Aulanthia and the Count of the Frontier Border—let out a wry smile.
Providing a semblance of support from across was the butler—Regulus, who had officially adopted the name Emil Bourne.

“Hah, it’s nothing that laudable. She’s the one who deliberately returned to the capital, her own home ground, just to outmaneuver Simonetta in the first place. She’s clearly jealous.”
“Jealous of Lady Simonetta?”
“No. Of Clara—and of the new ‘Shrine Maiden Princess Clara.’ No, perhaps it’s not jealousy but fear.”
“Fear…? Is it, Master?”

Regulus’s expression seemed to say, ‘how mysterious’, and Count Aulanthia grinned knowingly.

“It may seem different to you, but eyes accustomed to darkness find a blinding light only obstructive. I’m sure the princesses of the Cultura must be trembling in fear as well right about now.”

Her father laughed cheerfully, while the composed, ageless butler fell silent with a complex expression.
The young girl—Euphemia Lucia Aulanthia, the youngest daughter of Frontier Count Aulanthia—watched the scene, wide-eyed.

She had never before seen her father, the King Aulanthia, so openly cheerful and unconcerned, nor the usually unflappable butler genuinely troubled. Perhaps, she thought without reason, this was the truest expression of both their hearts.

“Even so, she possesses azure eyes, and her name is Clara, is it? Quite intriguing,”
King Aulanthia suddenly changed the subject.

At the mention of that person, Euphemia’s heart leapt. The “Second Shrine Maiden Princess,” now the talk of not just the capital but the entire continent, was the very person Euphemia revered as her ‘dear elder sister.’ She felt as if she were soaring in the heavens.
Ah, she knew her Elder Sister was no ordinary person!

She wanted to proclaim it aloud here and now…but instincts warned her it would be unwise to reveal it.

While she wrestled with that thought, the King cast a meaningful glance at Emil and said:

“I know it’s pointless to ask now, but why did you remain in the capital instead of following Clara and returning to Aulanthia? Were you waiting for someone? There must be a reason you stayed so long.”
“…No particular reason. The previous Shrine Maiden Princess was in Aulanthia, after all.”
“Hmm. Very well, we’ll leave it at that. But come to think of it, Clara also seemed to avoid you at times. She originally brought you along to employ you, yet she was somewhat distant… What exactly was your relationship?”

Emil paused, considering the question, then replied quietly, averting his gaze:
“—I am a co-conspirator, burdened with the same sin as Milady.”

“I see. Then one more thing—this Shrine Maiden Princess who has appeared in the capital now—”

At that moment, one of the horses pulling the carriage neighed loudly, and the carriage jolted violently before coming to a stop.