Jeanne looked at the elderly Sankta as he chuckled heartily, sensing the genuine joy radiating from his spirit. He seemed thoroughly content with the answer she had offered.
Part of her understood the depth of his satisfaction, while another part found his inner world difficult to fully grasp. Yet seeing his spirited smile brought warmth to her own heart as well.
"Then I have one final question," Agenir said, his tone softening as his clear, piercing gaze met hers. It felt as though those eyes could look straight through a person's soul. "If the world drifts to that extreme, and Laterano abandons its strict neutrality to pursue absolute hegemony across the continent... what will you do?"
"I will do everything within my power to stop it," Jeanne promised solemnly, meeting his gaze without hesitation. "Even if it is Laterano itself that strays into darkness, I will move heaven and earth to halt its path."
She refrained from guaranteeing ultimate success, knowing full well that when such dire times arrive, nothing in this world is ever certain.
"And that alone is more than enough," Agenir replied gently, nodding in quiet approval. "If such a tragic day ever comes, it will merely reflect the dark choices made by a portion of this world's people. It is not a burden you ought to carry on your own. So long as you stand firm in the middle, you have fulfilled your purpose."
Agenir turned and began to walk away, his purpose for the evening complete. Every doubt he harbored, every truth he sought, had been made clear.
"Oh, and do tell that old friend of mine that I accept his initial proposal," Agenir paused, glancing over his shoulder with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Though if he wishes to push matters further, he must speak directly with Madam Sicilia. For all my high standing, I am not the ruler of Siracusa. If I exceed my authority, that woman will have me tossed into an elder care home and set ablaze!"
The aged statesman offered the dark joke before disappearing into the crowd. Jeanne chuckled softly, suspecting the legendary Madam Sicilia was hardly that terrifying.
Still, the news was a immense triumph. After Jeanne conveyed her gratitude on Pope Yvangelista's behalf, Agenir slipped quietly out of the venue, completely unbothered by the grand banquets and glittering halls around him.
Around the same time, Speaker Welsh of Victoria hurried toward the exit as well, his drawn expression revealing deep preoccupation. Whatever the Pontiff had whispered to him had clearly struck a resonant chord.
"I merely dropped a few discreet suggestions into his ear," Pope Yvangelista remarked, stroking his white beard as he watched the departing Victorian statesman with a dry chuckle. "It seems the old fellow takes these matters to heart! He couldn't even stay to finish his drink."
The Pontiff let out a soft sigh, a flicker of sympathy passing through his eyes. Given the aged Feline's frail health, long-distance travel across mobile cities was an immense burden, yet he had been forced to endure the grueling journey to represent his fractured homeland.
Among all the great power envoys, Welsh was perhaps the most tragic figure. Even High Inquisitor Carmen marched under the banner of his own high ideals, whereas Speaker Welsh had made the journey solely out of grim duty—enduring bitter exhaustion just to maintain a fragile illusion of Victorian dignity.
If Laterano ever deteriorated to such a desperate state, Pope Yvangelista would sooner resign than suffer such indignity.
In Laterano's terms, it was as if the city officials had gone off to enter an arm-wrestling tournament, leaving behind a past champion to drag his tired bones across the finish line alone.
"I have no idea what is running through your mind, Your Holiness," Jeanne said, observing his dramatic expressions with an amused look. "But my instincts tell me your imagination has strayed quite far from reality."
"A minor detail, nothing more," the Pope dismissed with a wave of his hand, though his eyes dimmed with concern. "While I knew Victoria's internal state was fragile, it is clear from his words that a full-scale civil war is brewing."
A major civil war breaking out in Victoria would severely disrupt the grand coalition against the Seaborn. Internal strife meant that joint efforts might be abandoned before they even began.
"What exactly did you say to him?" Jeanne asked, intrigued by his confident demeanor. He looked like a master strategist who had already won half the board.
"I suggested that if there are factions at home causing friction—troublemakers he cannot easily handle—he might consider offering them up for this continental expedition," the Pope whispered, winking at Jeanne with playful trickery. "Who knows? They might never find their way back to Victoria."
Jeanne blinked in surprise at his cunning display. For a revered Pontiff, he certainly retained a mischievous streak.
Yet what faction could Victoria dislike so intensely while remaining completely powerless to remove? To someone unfamiliar with Victoria's delicate political balance, it remained a complete mystery.
"You will see when the time comes," Pope Yvangelista said with an air of complete certainty, as though the outcome was already written in stone.
"Now then, what did my old friend talk to you about?" the Pope asked, changing the subject with a curious grin. "He seemed quite pleased when he left. I wonder how that old fox maintains his appearance—he looks years younger than me!"
Jeanne ignored his self-deprecating mutterings and recounted the details of her conversation with Agenir.
Listening closely, the Pope stroked his beard with a satisfied smile. Today had indeed been a triumphant day; major obstacles were resolving with astounding speed. It seemed Jeanne truly carried a uncanny stroke of good fortune wherever she went.
Meanwhile, an elderly Feline walked briskly down the bustling avenue outside, his heart weighed down by complex thoughts. Gazing at the vibrant, cheerful Sankta passing by, his eyes burned with quiet envy.
Decades ago, Victoria had brimmed with that very same vitality—before the opportunistic grand dukes launched their betrayals and turned the glorious capital into a private arena for personal greed.
"Oren, I know you are there," Speaker Welsh spoke into the seemingly empty shadow beside the street, aware that his Sankta escort was hovering nearby.
"Indeed," a green-haired Sankta stepped out from a dark alleyway, his expression solemn and attentive.
"You may take the evening off to visit your friends," the old statesman said softly. "I have urgent matters to discuss with my colleagues in Victoria. The details are... somewhat inappropriate for your ears."
Recognizing the boundary, the envoy named Oren gave a silent nod. After escorting the elder back to his temporary residence, he bowed and took his leave.
"May the late Emperor watch over us," the old Feline muttered, staring at the communications array in his hand with hesitation. Gritting his teeth, he initiated the secure channel.
"Speaker Welsh, what is your status?" a voice answered almost instantly. The operator had clearly been standing by the terminal all night.
"Are those individuals available right now?" the elder asked, adjusting his robes to project an aura of unyielding authority, even though no one could see him. "There are critical matters we must settle."
"A few are available, sir," the voice replied hesitantly. "However, several grand dukes are currently attending a private salon banquet, so..."
"Then tell them to cancel their banquet!" the old man snapped, dropping all traces of his fragile, pitiable exterior. His voice rang out with sharp, imperious command. "Make them realize what matters more—my report from this summit, or their worthless parties!"
The operator panicked at his fierce tone. "Understood, sir! Please hold!"
In truth, the grand dukes were not entirely lost in idle luxury. Within ten minutes, several powerful figures gathered before their respective communication terminals, ready to receive the Speaker's update.
"I have intelligence that requires an immediate consensus," Speaker Welsh stated coldly, his tone dripping with subtle disdain. "Which is why I summoned you all. After all, you gentlemen are the true masters of Victoria now, are you not?"
Hearing his sharp sarcasm, the grand dukes at the other end suppressed their irritation. None of them dared provoke the old statesman at such a critical juncture.