The Royal Wedding
"What kind of name is Lanche Casper?"
"It's a name I received when I was in Dithmarschen."
Dithmarschen? It was a name from a past far shorter than she had expected.
"As you can tell from the surname, the one who gave me that name was a mage. Do you remember what I said about Galua, who controlled magical beasts not long ago? I told you there are several sects doctrinally opposed to Kormillius."
"You said they were heretics… separatists or non-deificationists."
"You remember."
With a doubtful expression, she turned her gaze to him.
"The mage Casper, who gave me the name Lanche, is one of those non-deificationists."
At the word non-deificationist, Roberta's eyes narrowed.
Ulrich had spoken of them just a few days ago. These non-deificationists were a sect that opposed the deification of Hestio—in other words, heretics.
When the Third Empire was established, the First Council was convened, and multiple sects united to form the Ecumenical Church. At that time, the central issue of the council was the deification of the human Hestio.
Before the Church was established, humans did not regard Hestio as a god. Officially, most sects treated him ambiguously. They had no choice. Though he had lived in the heavens among the gods, he was not their blood, nor was he omnipotent—he was human.
Humans themselves were a race whose origin remained unknown. They appeared later than dwarves, fairies, and countless other races that had perished over time.
According to scripture, at some point a group—neither fairy nor dwarf—arrived by a riverside. They were the first humans. Ganymea discovered them and took in one infant from among them. That child was Hestio.
No one knew who created humans, or when, or why. Because of that, humans could not regard Hestio lightly.
Their creator was unknown, yet Hestio was the first human witnessed by the gods. He was the only human to live among them, and the one who spread civilization to his kind.
"How could we not regard him as a god, when he was raised among the heavens and lived with them?"
Thus spoke the Kormillius clan, who convened the First Council and placed Hestio's deification on the agenda.
After fierce opposition, Kormillius's doctrine of deification prevailed, and the human Hestio was elevated to Hestio, god of humanity. The non-deification doctrine was declared heresy.
Kormillius secretly tracked the non-deificationists, Roberta recalled.
That was why she had never known of their existence. Or rather, it was natural not to know—and strange that they still existed at all. The ruling clan had hunted them for over a thousand years, yet they had endured. It was almost miraculous.
"Why did that person give you the name Lanche?"
Ulrich had received a name from a heretic.
He had been given the alias Lanche Casper by a non-deificationist.
"Before that, we should ask how we met. The answer to that requires some explanation."
Fritz, who had been listening to their conversation, read the mood and dismissed the attendants. The servants cleared the dishes, replaced them with teacups, and left the dining room.
Only Ulrich, Roberta, and Fritz remained. Sunlight streamed through the windows and fell across the table.
"To be honest, my memory isn't very clear. Back then, summers were shorter than they are now. The seasons hardly changed, so each day felt the same—and when everything is the same, it's easy to forget."
"That's alright. Just tell it roughly."
Ulrich lifted his teacup and paused for a moment in thought.
"Hmm… as I said earlier, I met the mage named Casper in Dithmarschen. If I recall correctly, it was over a hundred and fifty years ago. I went there alone."
He added that he only vaguely remembered the man's surname and appearance.
"Did he come looking for you, Sir Ulrich?"
"No. He came to find a guide to the Ice Peninsula."
"The Ice Peninsula? Like Duke Vailen from Carbonihar?"
"For the same reason, as it turns out. He was trying to meet Narbakayani."
She looked at Ulrich in confusion.
Narbakayani was the name of a dragon that lived on the Ice Peninsula—the father of the Duke Vailen just mentioned, and the very reason the duke had traveled there. As far as she knew, Narbakayani had only one human descendant: Duke Vailen.
"Did Narbakayani have another descendant?"
"That's impossible."
Ulrich shook his head lightly with a smile.
"Think about the time period. What state was the Pantheon in back then?"
"Ah…" She nodded. "It was the era of pillow politics."
It was a time when the Pantheon had lost its ability to self-regulate and had fallen into corruption. From about two hundred years ago until just before the current Pope Marcello was elected, the Pantheon had been irredeemably corrupt.
Even today's conflict between the Empire and the Pantheon had its roots in the seeds sown during that era.
The mage Casper was a non-deificationist—a heretic. There were only a few reasons why such a man would seek out a dragon of the Ice Peninsula during a time when the Pantheon was devouring itself.
"It seems he intended to borrow Narbakayani's power, but of course, he failed. It was impossible to begin with. Why would a dragon intervene in human affairs? Still, in that failure, he uncovered an unexpected truth."
That mage had discovered Ulrich's true identity.
"You didn't reveal it yourself, did you?"
"Of course not."
No one hands out an alias out of the blue. You only do so when you know the other person lives under changing names.
"Both of us were trying not to reveal ourselves. But just as I saw through Galua's identity, he showed me several clues on the Ice Peninsula."
"About you, Sir Ulrich?" Fritz asked.
"Who knows? It seems he heard something from Narbakayani. As I recall, his attitude toward me changed after he had a private conversation with that child. But that's only a guess."
Ulrich said that neither of them shared their personal histories.
"He didn't mention knowing me or anything about his sect. He was a strange man. Most people aren't like that—they try to bring up past connections to steer the conversation."
"So he pretended not to know?"
"Most likely. Like closing a box you accidentally opened."
And when he left Dithmarschen, he handed over the alias, saying he would register Ulrich as a disciple in the city of mages—so he could use it if needed.
Ulrich had no idea how much the man knew about him, nor how deeply he was involved with the non-deificationists. At the time, Ulrich had simply regarded him as a fleeting acquaintance from the past.
"Have you ever used that alias before?"
"No. This is the first time I've used it since coming here. I thought using it would reveal my existence. There was no reason to use it—until now."
Until now—true to those words, Ulrich had used that name yesterday to seek out the mage.
His purpose was to meet the non-deificationists.
"I went looking for Casper's disciple. Mages live long lives, but there aren't many of them. If a large number had gathered here, I figured at least one would be among them."
Roberta recalled the middle-aged man who had politely received Ulrich under his alias at the mage's estate.
"Was the mage who guided you the one you were looking for?"
"He was the person I was looking for—but not the group I was seeking."
"…Pardon? What do you mean?"
"He wasn't a non-deificationist."
He let out a quiet "hmm," saying the man didn't even seem to know.
"He said he had only been told by his master to treat any mage named Lanche Casper with the utmost hospitality, but wasn't told why. Isn't that interesting?"
"It is… interesting. I thought that heretic group gave you that alias to make contact with you, Sir Ulrich."
"I'm not sure. It's entirely possible that upon hearing the alias, he deliberately avoided meeting me. On the other hand, he might truly have pretended not to recognize me."
He added that such cases, while rare, weren't unheard of.
"In any case, from what I confirmed, the mages gathered here in Iselburg have no connection to the non-deificationists—or to the culprit we suspect. They've simply gathered in hopes of becoming the king's advisors."
"Now that you mention it, I heard the court mage died."
"He was assassinated."
Roberta frowned.
"Are you certain?"
"Hmm. More likely it's bait to lure in the surrounding mages."
It didn't surprise her. She had vaguely suspected as much and inwardly thought, as expected.
"There are too many problems. That heretical group—the non-deificationists—seems like the culprit, but there's no apparent way to find them. Wouldn't it be better to inform His Highness Richard?"
"Richard… that child has no power. He probably doesn't even know that magical beasts have appeared near the capital. And even if he did, he wouldn't have the ability to respond."
"No ability?"
"The rumors are already widespread. They say even the capital guard no longer listens to the king."
"…That's serious."
She clicked her tongue and frowned.
It felt like standing atop a pile of burning firewood. The flames were already consuming it, yet few people even realized it—and even those who did had no one capable of extinguishing the fire.
For the next few days, Ulrich and his group lingered in the capital, unable to find any lead on the incident, and eventually turned their attention to receiving the wedding guests.
The guests entered through the north gate.
It was the same entrance Ulrich's group had used when they first arrived in the capital, Iselburg. The broad road stretching from there to the royal palace was the most direct route.
The guests had been arriving in the outskirts of the city one by one over the past couple of days, but they had not entered immediately. Only after their numbers swelled into the tens of thousands did they coordinate and march in together in orderly sequence.
The crowds parted along both sides of the avenue, while the guests advanced through the center.
"O Deus! Protect Osnover!"
"Grant divinity to this noble blood!"
As the vanguard passed through the north gate, flower petals began to fall. Children ran alongside the procession, scattering petals from baskets, while people on rooftops showered them down amid hymns of praise.
"It looks more like a victory parade than a wedding," Fritz muttered, leaning against the window frame of a second-floor building with a bored expression. Roberta, standing behind him and looking out, replied, "It really does."
"What kind of guest brings an army all the way to the royal palace?"
"A show of force. The nobles are pressuring His Highness Richard."
The marching groups were no ordinary guests. Their attire was not ceremonial—they were fully armed, with troops stationed outside the city. At a single command, they looked ready to storm in.
Just like the rumors—the royal authority is being completely ignored.
Roberta clicked her tongue inwardly.
Conflicts between royal and religious authority were common, but the balance here was far too skewed. It no longer seemed like pressure—if a coup were to break out right now, it might not be stopped.
It was because the king had fallen out with the Pantheon. The Pope had excommunicated him and issued a recall of priests across the nation. Those with faith turned their backs to preserve it, and even those with weaker faith were compelled to abandon the king to protect what was theirs.
Her gaze shifted to the palace at the end of the road.
Originally a lord's estate that had become a palace when the city was designated as the capital, its front gate was now where the King of Osnover stood. Beside him stood the queen, the crown princess, and a few vassals—an almost pitiful retinue.
King Richard was not standing on a platform or stairs. Nor on higher ground. Just flat earth.
Meanwhile, none of the "guests" dismounted from their horses. The king had to lift his head to look up at them.
"How rude…!" Fritz gritted his teeth.
At last, when half the procession had passed through the gates, Count Wilhelm of the Meyer family appeared, leading his clan. He marched forward with even more men than those before him, armed more heavily and more firmly.
Wilhelm's expression was solemn. Gone was the drunken, pitiful man who had once wept. His sturdy build, sun-darkened skin, and blazing red eyes exuded an oppressive presence.
Those red eyes swept across the crowd, met Fritz's gaze, then moved to Roberta—and finally stopped on Ulrich, who stood in disguise.
Wilhelm gave a slight nod.
"..."
The procession reached its end. The vanguard turned their horses and circled the palace walls, and the following ranks coiled around it like a serpent, surrounding the palace.
Not a single one dismounted. Even as they halted, they simply raised their chins and silently looked down upon the excommunicated king.
The crowd murmured. They knew the ruler of this city had been cast out by the Church, and that the nobles had turned their backs on him. Amid the unrest, Roberta sensed tension.
At this rate, the nobles might depose the king right here.
"By the grace of the Father, we greet His Highness Richard Dithmarschen, King of Osnover and head of Hilderson."
But at that moment, Wilhelm dismounted, knelt on one knee, and bowed his head. One after another, the Hilderson clans arriving before the palace followed suit.
Silence fell over the crowd.
Half the procession had surrounded and humiliated the king—but just as many had bowed before him.
Some among the crowd looked confused. As far as they knew, the king and the count were supposed to be on bad terms.
"I knew you would come, Wilhelm."
Richard stepped forward and raised him.
"Even if the blood we bear and the names we carry differ, our origin is the same."
The two embraced deeply, lightly touching cheeks. As they exchanged formalities, Wilhelm whispered something.
At that, Richard's eyes widened, and he quickly glanced around.
Roberta realized who he was searching for and stole a glance at Ulrich. Watching the two from afar, he spoke.
"Fritz, tell Wilhelm to come see me when night falls."
He added,
"And Roberta, deliver the same message to the archbishop. Tell him I have something urgent to discuss."
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