"If spreading this rumor thins out the Dead Apostle population in the Far East, then so be it."
Alice's voice drifted through the dense, chilling fog, utterly devoid of warmth. "You have twenty-four hours to warn your stray friends and vacate my city."
"Y-Yes... understood..."
The rogue magus swallowed hard. He was terrified that mishearing a single syllable would cost him his life. Yet, for some reason, the Witch's cold dismissal ignited a tiny, desperate spark of hope in his chest, like a freezing man spotting a campfire through a blizzard.
"P-Please..." he stammered, clutching his bleeding arm. "Who... who is offering us sanctuary?"
Germany was legendary for being the White Wing Lord's territory. But Ortenrosse was an Ancestor; his ranks were filled with the elite of the underworld. Why on earth would a faction like that offer mass sanctuary to pathetic, bottom-feeding strays like him?
He looked up to beg for a name, but the heavy mist had already swallowed her.
She was gone.
Left entirely alone in the damp alley, covered in jagged lacerations from her fairy-tale monsters, the rogue grimaced. He began carefully channeling his meager remaining mana to patch his wounds. The Witch hadn't explicitly spelled it out, but he wasn't an idiot. If he dared hunt a human tonight to replenish his mana, he wouldn't live to see the sunrise.
And the black market? Tightly regulated blood packs cost a fortune he couldn't even dream of possessing.
Five minutes later, leaning heavily against the brickwork, he limped out of the alley and vanished into the night.
As soon as he was gone, Kuonji Alice materialized from the fog.
She cast a cool glance over the pulverized concrete and bloodstained walls, then lowered her gaze and began the tedious process of cleaning up. Repairing structural damage, scrubbing blood from the asphalt, these mundane cover-ups were never her specialty.
But lately, she was getting rather good at it.
Above her head, a frantic fluttering broke the silence. The Blue Robin, her incessantly loud, gossipy familiar, finally saw an opening and swooped down, landing squarely on her shoulder.
"Squawk! You broke your own traditions! You rebellious little witch, caw!"
"..."
"I'm telling you, you're spending way too much time with that boy! He's completely corrupting you! I am genuinely worried about your future!"
"..."
"Speaking of which, why did you send that stray to Germany? Your little paramour is in Cornwall, isn't he?"
Alice's hands paused. The repairing concrete settled into place. After a long, heavy silence, she finally spoke.
"Cornwall is a disposable pawn. Against the combined might of the Association and the Church... it cannot be held."
The Einzberns' destruction had ignited a massive, nationwide purge across Germany. While the White Wing Lord was currently taking the brunt of the Burial Agency's fanaticism, Rimuru had deliberately reached his hand into Britain, loudly slapping the Mage's Association right across the face.
The Association wouldn't take that sitting down.
Rumor had it a Grand Resolution was being convened. The Church would be sending their own representative magi to attend. It was a clear signal that the two superpowers were preparing a joint crusade.
But Rimuru had intentionally pissed off both superpowers at the exact same time. Why?
Given all the cynical, ambitious theories Rimuru used to casually drop back when they lived together, Alice knew exactly what kind of play he was setting up.
She looked up at the moonless sky.
The Association and the Church only saw their own absolute superiority. They believed their overwhelming power could unilaterally crush the Dead Apostles. But they forgot basic physics. When you compress a spring past its limit...
It violently rebounds.
"Caw! Hmph, I knew that!" Robin squawked, puffing out his blue chest. "I just wanted to test you, little Alice! You ignore everything else I say, but the second I mention that guy, you immediately start explaining! Oh, I'm so worried!"
"...Can you shut up for a moment?"
"ABSOLUTELY! NOT! I am your mother's legacy! I promised her I would be your guardian! As your parental figure, it is my sworn duty to properly vet your future husband before, caw?!"
Snap.
Alice cleanly, ruthlessly snapped the bird's neck.
Instantly, the familiar reverted back into a strange, blue porcelain statuette. The Blue Robin was indeed one of her mother's relics, and her most trusted familiar. Its only flaw was that it was incredibly annoying and painfully stupid.
"Breaking tradition for him..."
Alice murmured, gently placing the statuette into her handbag. She let out a soft sigh.
If she could, she would have gone to Britain to help him. But he was operating under the guise of the White Knight right now, completely burying the identity of Rimuru Tempest. If she showed up by his side, the Church would instantly connect the dots. She would only be a liability to his cover.
...
Meanwhile, far away in Cornwall.
Rimuru was up bright and early, waiting for his drafted undead workforce to finish excavating the entire county. His quiet morning, however, was interrupted by the heavy doors of his office swinging open.
Her Highness, Altrouge Brunestud, trudged in. She was rubbing her eyes, wearing a sheer, aristocratic nightgown, and looking incredibly cranky.
She yawned widely, tossing a crumpled intelligence report directly onto Rimuru's desk.
"That damn White Wing Lord completely ignored my advice!" she huffed, crossing her arms and pouting. "Not only is he refusing to withdraw his presence from Austria, he actually escalated his offensives there! Is he seriously trying to retaliate against me for what we did in Germany?"
"Oh? He moved that quickly?" Rimuru picked up the report, a satisfied smirk curling his lips. "I figured he'd at least wait until the Church wiped Cornwall off the map before making his play."
Altrouge's sleepy, puffed-up cheeks deflated. She stared at him blankly. "???"
"He isn't retaliating against you, Princess. Quite the opposite." Rimuru flipped through the pages, leaning back in his chair. "It's an invitation. Austria is the most heavily contested border between your two factions. It's the perfect neutral ground for negotiations... and the perfect foundation for a Dead Apostle Nation, wouldn't you agree?"
…
"A Dead Apostle... Nation?"
Altrouge's blank expression vanished. Her delicate face hardened into absolute, glacial cold. "What exactly are you trying to do?"
"When I first ran into you, you were on your way to negotiate with Ortenrosse, weren't you?" Rimuru ignored her sudden hostility, speaking in a calm, measured tone.
"..."
"Your talks failed, but your core objective was just to get him to back off Austria." Rimuru set the dossier down. "Now, let me ask you a question. What if you had succeeded?"
"What?"
"If he agreed and backed off, then what?" Rimuru pressed. "You treat his invasion of Austria as a personal insult, but you completely ignore whyhe turned against you in the first place, or whyhe's invading."
"This is why I said you're terrible at negotiating. If you don't understand the baseline motives and core interests of the person sitting across the table, how do you expect to convince them?"
"I know exactly why he does it!" Altrouge snapped. Her crimson eyes flared with haughty arrogance, cutting Rimuru off. "He's driven by an ambition as insatiable as a black hole. It's that simple."
"Exactly. Ambition." Rimuru stood up, meeting the Black Princess's piercing gaze head-on. "So, tell me. What right do you have to ask him to abandon that ambition?"
….
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