He died during the castle repairs——those words still echoed in Kuro's mind. Kuro had witnessed Prevarn Kingdom's surrender ceremony eight days after Deluxia's fall. The ceremony was held in a castle seized from the north of the old Deluxia, taken from Felnork——the Goldra Coalition's main camp sprawling across a basin in the southern Volgarn Highlands. A stone great hall. Groflik sat upon the throne, with Kuro standing to his right rear as strategist. Tribal chiefs lined both sides. The doors opened within that gloomy scene. Silver hair. Hair like a polished blade, silver and straight from shoulders to waist. Height nearly equal to Kuro's. Dressed in formal attire bearing a knight's crest at the chest, she walked with perfectly controlled steps. The princess of Prevarn Kingdom——the continent's mightiest military state, home to the knight training ground "Cresta's Circle"——a nation of war. According to what Kuro heard later from his aide, her swordsmanship was such that she could fight to a draw against five regular knights. She stepped forward before Groflik. She did not kneel. Instead, she drew a short blade from her bosom and pressed it to Kuro's throat. The great hall froze. The tribal chiefs rose as one. Groflik's yellow eyes narrowed. (Am I dying? Is this the end of a traitor?) A voice screamed inside Kuro, but his face didn't move. It wasn't so much composure as his legs literally wouldn't obey. The blade tip stopped three centimeters short of his Adam's apple. Her hand trembled slightly——with anger, not fear. Groflik raised one hand. That alone stopped the tribal chiefs' movements. Silence continued. Five seconds? Ten? The short blade was lowered. She placed it on the stone floor as if hurling it down. The sound of metal striking stone echoed through the great hall. "[cold]I will never forgive you for as long as I live. But——" Her gray eyes met Kuro's. Contempt and something she didn't want to acknowledge mingled there. "[cold]You might be better than Groflik" With only that, she mechanically completed the ceremony's formalities. (I never thought I'd be acknowledged like this) Kuro writhed inwardly while playing the role of ceremony conductor, maintaining order. No one had taught him, but he had no choice. From the edge of the great hall, Solange watched the entire exchange. The moment Kuro's gaze flickered toward her, she looked away. Her profile was expressionless——not her usual innocent smile, but a different face entirely. --- What came after was a digest. The surrender ceremony of Melistia Duchy——an eastern mystical small nation with a culture of fortune-telling. The fortune-teller princess, dressed in pale purple robes, appeared at the ceremony cradling a crystal ball. Flax-colored soft hair, eyes unfocused and gazing somewhere distant. "[gentle]Since we're here, allow me to divine your future" She said it with a smile. She held her hand over the crystal, and seconds later, still smiling, she said: "[gentle]It's the worst" (Don't say it with a smile!!) Kuro's insides exploded, but his surface remained unmoved. As the general's right arm, he maintained composure. "[gentle]Well, but——there might be something beyond the worst. The crystal won't tell me that far" With what could barely be called a follow-up, she concluded the ritual. --- The princess of Gardion Kingdom——the continent's greatest weapons exporter, the nation of smithcraft——came to the ceremony with reddish-brown hair tied short and leather gloves still on. Work gloves, rough and worn. Sweat marks on her forehead. It was obvious she'd been making something right up until moments before. She held in both hands the ceremonial offering prepared——a famous sword, forged by Gardion's greatest craftsman——and stood before Groflik. Then she turned on her heel and threw it into the furnace in the corner. "[serious]I have no sword to offer" She declared firmly and performed the surrender ritual empty-handed. (That sword was supposed to be offered to Groflik!! I'm going to get chewed out for this!!) Kuro's face went pale. Already calculating the aftermath, he kept the ceremony conductor's smile fixed on his face. Groflik watched the entire exchange without speaking. He wasn't laughing, but he wasn't angry either. He simply observed the smith princess with his yellow eyes as if taking her measure. (He thinks there's a use for her, doesn't he) Kuro understood. And the fact that he thought that judgment was correct made him feel slightly sick. --- The princess of Florensstadt Commercial Federation——the only nation governed by a merchant council——raised her hand before even stating the surrender ritual. "[serious]Please clarify. What amount will my ransom be set at? Is there room for negotiation?" "[angry]This isn't a negotiation venue!!!!" It came out. The first time he'd raised his voice since the ceremony began. The Commercial Federation princess——with light brown curled hair and calculating green eyes——glanced at Kuro and said matter-of-factly, "Then we shall consult individually going forward," and continued the ritual. Every time Kuro returned to the tent, he muttered. Everyone was openly hostile. --- Princess Lumina of Tolmia Coastal Kingdom——a southern realm prospering through maritime trade——was lowering a rope from the castle window just before the ceremony. She was caught by two guards with both arms seized, and participated in the ceremony soaking wet. Apparently she'd tried to descend along the castle's outer wall by rope but fell into the moat filled with rainwater partway down. Lumina's blue eyes were bloodshot, water dripping from her wet golden-brown curled hair, and she stated the ceremony's ritual without a shred of contrition. (Starting next time, I'll have to write instructions to lock the windows) Kuro thought this while handling administrative work. --- The sixth nation. Solange's surrender ceremony was the first ritual. The day Deluxia fell, when they faced each other in the great hall. Eight days had passed since then. Smoke from the conquest route of five subjugated nations continued to appear at the edge of Kuro's vision. Each time his orc aide brought reports, Kuro lowered his eyes to the documents and processed them. "Leave border control to the tribal chiefs." "Excessive resource requisition will strain supply lines."——there was always a rational reason. And with those rational reasons, reports of scorched earth were filed away. Willful blindness accumulated. --- The night six princesses gathered, the luxurious tent at Felnork was quiet. Quality wine——taken from the underground storage of a conquered castle——poured into a glass, Kuro sat before the campfire. The liquid in the glass was red. It resembled the color of dust from the day Blanche's castle walls collapsed. (This is what you wanted. Six beautiful women, the right arm of the continent's ruler, a place you never dreamed of in your past life. Isn't it the best?) No answer came. The other five princesses either slept in their own quarters or cast hostile glances, and none visited Kuro's tent. Naturally. They all hated Kuro. That was natural too. Fabric rustled. Solange stood at the tent entrance. Not in armor. Nor the negligee she often flew out in from the castle. Everyday clothes brought from Deluxia——thin fabric, without luster, just clothes——draped over her. Long golden wavy hair swayed gently on her shoulders. "[serious]What do you want" He asked. His voice was slightly dry. Solange stood at the entrance without hostility or reproach. "[gentle]Hey Kuro, are you happy right now?" A quiet question. Not an accusing voice. Just a question. Kuro couldn't answer. He tried to tilt his glass, but his hand stopped midway. The flame wavered. The wine's red wavered. "[gentle]Father said——even after you betrayed us, not to blame that young man. He said anyone cornered like that would do the same" Kuro looked up. Solange was smiling. Not her usual innocent smile. Something deeper——a tired, sad smile, yet one maintained so it wouldn't crumble. "[sad]But——Father died three days ago" Blood drained from Kuro's face. "[sad]During castle repairs. Crushed under a collapsed beam" King Philibert. The white-bearded, gentle old king who had formally requested his aid in the war council. The king who doted on his daughter so much that when she committed a diplomatic blunder at an audience, he said "please take it as a compliment." That king. The castle walls of Blanche were collapsed by the army Kuro had buffed. Under those collapsed walls, under that beam—— A single tear streamed from Solange's eyes. She didn't wipe it. "[gentle]I decided not to cry. Because if I cried——you might forgive yourself" --- Kuro burst from the tent. He broke through Felnork's outer walls. He ran across the night wasteland. He ran until the light of the orc soldiers' bonfires faded into distance, then fell to his knees. He vomited. Everything in his stomach came out. It tasted of wine. Even after it stopped, he couldn't stand. Both hands pressed to the ground, a sound came from him. At first low, then becoming a wail that spread across the night wasteland. Thirty-five years. All the memories from his past life suddenly became heavy at once. No one had chosen him. After reincarnation, gaining buff magic, he was needed for the first time. To protect that power——no. It wasn't to protect. He just wanted six princesses. He wanted to gather everything he couldn't obtain in his past life all at once, and for that he moved forty-eight thousand soldiers, collapsed castle walls, and a king died under a beam. It was all about his own inferiority complex. "[crying]What am I doing" The words came out. That voice disappeared into the wasteland. For a while, he just cried. Cried until his eyes were swollen, until he was a mess, and still couldn't lift his hands from the ground. He relaxed them just slightly. He looked up at the night sky. Stars gazed down quietly from far away. In that moment, one idea raced through Kuro's mind. (If I could strip the buff from the target in an instant) A kill switch in the program. An exit trigger embedded in the buff. Activate it, and all buffs on the target disappear. If he could strip the buff from all forty-eight thousand at once. With tears and snot covering his face, Kuro stood up. --- When he returned to the tent entrance, Solange was sitting there. Directly on the ground, hugging her knees. Night wind stirred her golden hair. "[gentle]You took a while" "[serious]……Why are you waiting" "[gentle]If you ran off into the night wasteland alone and didn't come back, I'd be troubled" Not a reproach. Not forgiveness either. Just a fact, stated plainly. Kuro had no words to return. The two sat together before the tent. The sky before dawn began to whiten ever so slightly from the eastern edge. Only the sense of light being born came from beyond the Eldia Plain. For a while, neither spoke. "[gentle]Kuro——you really can get angry, can't you" Solange murmured, still gazing into the distance. "[gentle]I heard you shouting far away earlier" Kuro's face grew hot. Blood rushed to his head. He hurriedly turned his face away. "[gentle]But——that's so much better" Her voice was small. Kuro couldn't say anything. But in this silence, he felt something transform. His feelings toward Solange——from that night when he first received the secret letter, from the impulse to have six princesses, into something entirely different. The shape was changing. Only, Kuro didn't yet have the vocabulary to put it into words. Light from dawn touched the horizon's edge. Solange stood up. "[gentle]Good night" With only that, she returned to her quarters. Kuro remained alone. In his clenched right hand, the outline of the curse network——the technique to embed an exit trigger in the buff——slowly began to take shape in his mind. The concept existed. But the methodology