Before dawn, the corridors of Weltheim Castle were still dark. Two sets of footsteps echoed quietly against the stone pavement. Torchlight flickered on the walls. Kenji held a single sheet of paper in his hand. A fragment of the ledger that Reina had brought back the previous night, bleeding—a structural diagram of the embezzlement scheme he'd assembled through the night. The route through which Valdeus diverted the royal domain's tax revenue to his own faction, the flow of funds recorded as fictitious border defense expenses, traces of subsidies flowing to the Iron Crown. It was incomplete. But the numerical contradictions were definitely there. 48 hours remaining. Kenji repeated that number in his head. First house—the head of the Lange family glanced at the structural diagram once, then quietly handed it back. "[cold]The evidence is too thin. Before we can move against the Chancellor, we ourselves will become targets." After stepping into the corridor, Reina spoke in a low voice. "[whispers]Let's move to the next one." The second and third houses were the same. "Insufficient evidence." "We don't want to be dragged into this."—Every head of house took the diagram in hand, moved their eyebrows slightly, and then politely refused. The third head of house added just one more thing before closing the door. "[serious]If His Majesty loses at the inquiry, we will be targeted next. Do not forget that." Back in the corridor, Kenji leaned his back against the wall. He was confronted anew with the depth of their current isolation. Everyone knew what was right. Everyone was too afraid to act. This structure was something Valdeus had built up over years. Binding people with fear—the most efficient form of control, Kenji analyzed coldly. But being able to analyze something and being able to do something about it were different things. Reina said nothing. She simply stood beside him. Her right eye, deep purple, gazed into the darkness of the corridor ahead. "We're going to the fourth house." "[serious]Understood." --- The private chambers of House Volf were at the far end of the western wing of the castle. After knocking on the door, there was a pause before it opened. The man who emerged was a large elderly man. He was a full head taller than Kenji. Broad shoulders, gnarled hands, a face marked with deep wrinkles and old scars. A former military official—his physique matched those words exactly. Ludwig Volf, 62 years old. One of the few house heads who did not belong to the Iron Crown. He took the structural diagram and began reading silently. It was a long silence. The torchlight flickered. The sound of guards' footsteps faded in the distance. Kenji said nothing during that time. He understood there was no point in rushing. This old man was the type to make his judgments at his own pace. Ludwig finally spoke. "[serious]These numbers... they match the amount of administrative subsidies to my domain." "What do you mean?" "[serious]The money that comes down as subsidies is always, for some reason, less than expected. I thought it was strange. I couldn't prove it. But looking at this—" He tapped one point on the structural diagram with his thick finger. "[serious]I can testify to it at the inquiry." Kenji paused for a beat before answering. "I'm grateful." "[cold]I don't need your gratitude. It's years of frustration with Valdeus. Nothing more than that." The door closed. Kenji stared at that door. One house secured. An old man who moved based on facts rather than emotion—that alone was enough. --- Zena, the head of House Kargen, read the structural diagram carefully from beginning to end, then looked up. 47 years old, a female house head with short black hair. Sharp eyes. A different kind of sharpness than the third house head—not fear, but calculation. "[serious]As evidence, it's thin. But..." She paused for a moment. "[cold]If Valdeus loses his position as Chancellor, the trade licensing rights in the northern regions under the Chancellor's influence will be redistributed. My house needs that." An alliance based on calculation—Kenji understood that. There were no people who moved purely on justice. The politics of this world ran on profit and loss. But that was also what made it trustworthy. Calculation doesn't betray. At least, not while interests align. "[serious]I will cooperate. However, I would like to discuss the terms after the inquiry is concluded." "Understood." After leaving Zena's private chambers, Reina spoke quietly. "[serious]Two houses secured." "An alliance based on calculation. But right now, we use everything we can." Reina nodded. She didn't say anything unnecessary. --- Before noon, the front gate of the palace became noisy. The sound of guards running. The scrape of boots on stone. A young knight carrying a report—Bernt—stopped when he spotted Kenji at the corner of the corridor. "[scared]Your Majesty! Emperor Ziegardt Dorgan of the Dorgan Empire has arrived at the front gate, claiming to be a condolence envoy, accompanied by 20 guards!" Something went cold in Kenji's mind. A condolence visit. One week since the death of the previous king, Verner. Coming at this timing. As if measuring the moment when domestic politics were most chaotic—there was no need to search. The timing of diplomatic pressure always aimed for the opponent's weakest moment. That hadn't changed between the modern world and this one. "[serious]Have the audience chamber prepared." --- The audience chamber was vast. The stone arches of the ceiling stretched high, and midday light streamed in through windows on both sides. The moment Ziegardt Dorgan entered, Kenji felt the air change. A massive frame exceeding 190 centimeters in height. Over his black imperial military uniform, a single white mourning band was draped. Dark blue short hair swept back, and his red eyes—held not a shred of emotion. A small black horn tattoo on the back of his left hand. His gait was different. Simply by walking, he seemed to push the air aside. The courtiers unconsciously stepped back. He stopped before the throne and gave a light bow. "[serious]I humbly offer my condolences to the new King of Grandveld, His Majesty Alexis. The passing of His Majesty Verner is surely a loss to the entire continent." His voice was heavy. Rather than the meaning of the words, it was a voice that dominated the space through its sheer weight. Reina remained motionless by the wall. With one hand resting on her sword's hilt, she tracked the movements of Ziegardt's attendants with her eyes. Her expression was stone-like. Kenji answered from the throne. "I thank you for the condolence." --- After the ceremonial words were exchanged, Ziegardt moved. An attendant brought forward a piece of parchment. Ziegardt placed it before Kenji. "[serious]The Valken iron mines in the Greyfolk highlands—the mountain range that supplies seventy percent of the kingdom's iron production—I propose a joint development agreement. With imperial technology and capital, we can dramatically increase mining efficiency and divide the profits between our two nations. A rational proposal to resolve the kingdom's financial difficulties, would you not agree?" Kenji took the parchment. He read line by line. Imperial mining rights. Imperial technician residence rights. Duration—perpetual. Mining rights and residence rights in perpetuity. In other words, imperial personnel would remain stationed in the Valken mountains forever. The wording of the clauses was gentle, but the meaning was singular—effectively, territorial cession. Kenji's mind ran a search. Imperial residence rights, precedents, withdrawal, joint development, sovereignty infringement, treaty conventions—a flood of examples from modern international law appeared. But that was not this world's law. Search results for treaty interpretation precedents in this world: zero. Ziegardt continued in a quiet voice. "[cold]The weak are taken from. Young king, that is the order of the continent. I do not rush your answer—but the empire's patience has its limits." A man who wielded the word "order" as a weapon. Kenji placed the parchment back on the desk. He set it down quietly. Then he met Ziegardt's red eyes directly. "[serious]I thank you again for the condolence. But—the resources of my nation belong to my nation. I cannot accept this proposal." The courtiers murmured. Ziegardt's expression didn't change. Not a single eyebrow moved. Only the corner of his mouth rose slightly. "[cold]...I look forward to a wiser judgment." He said only that and stood. There was composure in his departing back. The composure of one who had no need to hurry—the kind that silently declared that it would be obtained eventually. The composure of a great power observing a small one. That very composure dropped something cold into the depths of Kenji's stomach. Reina kept her hand on her sword's hilt until Ziegardt's entire entourage had completely left. --- After Ziegardt's party had withdrawn to the palace quarters, Kenji and Reina entered the executive office. Once they were alone, the air in the room changed. A heavy silence returned. Outside, in Weltheim, the midday market should have been bustling, but beyond the stone walls, that sound didn't reach them. Reina spread out a map. "[serious]The layout of the great hall. I want to confirm the placement of the knights Valdeus will use for security and where the witnesses will stand." Kenji looked at the map. The great hall of the noble council—a long table with the heads of 12 houses on either side. Valdeus at the chairman's seat. Kenji standing at the head. "The timing of the testimony will be after Valdeus refuses to disclose the ledgers." Given that physical evidence was insufficient, there was only one strategy Kenji could employ. Draw contradictions from Valdeus's own words in a public setting. Demand the ledgers be shown, have him refuse—use that very action as evidence of guilt. "First, I present the numbers for the fictitious border defense expenses. The moment Valdeus denies it, Ludwig backs it up with the subsidy numbers. Then Zena presents the cross-reference with northern trade records. I demand the ledgers be shown. If he refuses—" "[serious]The fact of his refusal remains." "Exactly. An innocent man does not fear showing his ledgers—I make all 12 houses see that." Reina was silent for a moment. Her fingertip traced the edge of the map. "[serious]...What do you estimate our chances of victory to be?" Kenji paused. "Fifty-fifty." He said it honestly. Even with his search ability, he couldn't predict how these people would judge. How many of the 12 house heads would move in that moment. What counterattack Valdeus had prepared. Too many variables. Fifty-fifty wasn't optimism or pessimism—just reality. Reina nodded. "[serious]Then I will hold a sword to fill the remaining fifty percent." It wasn't emotional encouragement. Not a reassurance that everything would be fine. Simply a practical statement of intent. Kenji said nothing. He looked out the window. The sunset of Weltheim stained the stone pavement red. From the direction of the Frontier River, the sound of a low wind could be heard. Internal strife and external threat—Valdeus's trap and Ziegardt's pressure. Both would have answers by tomorrow morning. For just an instant, his gaze turned to Reina's profile. Her silver hair caught the torchlight. Her odd eyes gazed at the map. The scar on her cheek was still red. Kenji quickly turned his gaze back to the window. --- The next morning, as the sun rose, the castle began to move. The attendant Ehrik carefully placed the crown on Kenji's head. The old attendant's hands trembled slightly—whether from tension or worry, Kenji couldn't tell. Either way, it didn't matter. Walking through the stone corridors toward the great hall. Footsteps echoed. Th