episode_0072

72. Negotiation

Reina approaches from afar atop a crimson horse.

The allied forces, anticipating her arrival, halt their advance as soon as she comes into view.

“What a fucking shitshow.”

The first words uttered by she who is known as “Peerless Under Heaven.”

Why, you ask?

The core members who had rallied around Kain to command the artillery— Luna, the most exceptional among General Grace’s officers, and Albarn, the White Horse General. Argel and Baldrek, Cecilia’s arithmetic and language tutors. Uncle Reigar, who had marched undefeated until Cedric cut off his supplies.

Even just hearing their names was enough to send chills down one’s spine. Yet here they were, surrounding Reina in a crane-wing formation.

Serena and Iris, Uncle Reigar’s two daughters, stood guard around Kain.

Against such formidable warriors and tactics, even the mightiest would struggle to break through.

Trapped like a fish in a net, the so-called “Peerless Under Heaven” gnashed her teeth, gauging the situation.

Erica, seeing Reina cornered, posed a question.

“What happened to the three generals?”

At her words, Kain’s ears perked up.

There was a chance the figures he had a connection with were dead.

But those worries were quickly dispelled when three fierce women on horseback appeared in the distance, returning unharmed.

Seeing this, Erica burst into mocking laughter.

“Hahaha! So the great ‘Peerless Under Heaven’ turned tail and ran like a coward?”

“Damn right… We should’ve just killed that redheaded bitch from the start.”

Had they taken her seriously from the beginning, Reina insisted, they would have won.

Whether this was arrogance or the truth, the allied forces had no way of knowing.

Reina’s feral eyes darted around as she assessed her surroundings.

To the front, renowned warriors of the Empire had her surrounded. To the rear, the Liriana Sisters stood poised.

By all accounts, the allied forces had the upper hand—but the sheer weight of Reina’s title kept tension thick in the air.

Then, at last, Reina’s grim lips parted.

“I surrender.”

“…What?”

The careless ease of her surrender left Erica dumbstruck.

The same went for Cecilia and the other generals.

But their disbelief must have struck a nerve, as Reina snapped back irritably.

“I said I fucking surrender, you bastards.”

All of us exchanged baffled looks.

Who held the power here?

Clearly, we—the ones holding her life in our hands—were in control, while Reina, surrounded, was powerless.

Yet here she was, shamelessly cussing at us as if she were the one calling the shots.

Flustered, Erica and Cecilia began whispering to each other.

Was she just lacking in intelligence, or was there some scheme at play?

Either way, Reina’s patience seemed to reach its limit first.

“What? Not gonna accept my surrender?”

With that, she threateningly raised her halberd, which she had been lowering.

Her wild, wolf-like black hair bristled as her bestial eyes flashed.

“Then we all die together.”

Such arrogance.

The confidence that, even if she died, she could take down the Empire’s most famed generals and rulers.

The conviction that if she fought seriously from the start, no one stood a chance.

Seeing Reina ready for battle, the surrounding generals raised their weapons in turn.

Watching this, Erica muttered under her breath—just loud enough for Cecilia to hear.

“This is troublesome… Should we just kill her now?”

“…I disagree, my friend. If this is her ‘burning the boats’ moment…”

“So we shouldn’t take unnecessary risks. Got it.”

“Burning the boats”—a desperate last stand with no retreat.

If the so-called “Peerless Under Heaven” truly went wild, casualties were inevitable.

Especially now, when the exhausted troops couldn’t fight further and maintaining the alliance was barely possible, caution was crucial.

“But… letting her go unscathed would damage our standing.”

As Cecilia said, we couldn’t simply release Reina.

We had poured wealth and armies into this alliance-all to save the Emperor.

If we casually let go of Black Dawn’s strongest general like an automatic door, the whole endeavor would become a farce.

Handing over the invader who ransacked the Imperial Palace without consequence?

Unacceptable.

We needed a “plausible” reason to let her go.

As Erica and Cecilia deliberated, tensions reached a breaking point.

Reina, having learned from her earlier skirmish with the Liriana Sisters, was dead serious now.

The allied generals, wary of her title, readied themselves at full power.

Blades were drawn—

“Commander! Are you alright?!”

A voice of salvation rang out.

A woman with dark-blue-streaked hair.

Athena, the “One Against a Thousand,” arrived on horseback, sword and spear in hand.

At the sight, Reina broke into a grin and slung her halberd over her shoulder.

“You show up *now*, when I’m about to die?”

“You’re the one who bolted out saying you’d ‘play around’!”

“Did I?”

Scratching her chin, Reina feigned ignorance.

Athena clutched her neck, grinding her teeth at such shamelessness—but after a calming breath, she turned to the allied forces with polite restraint.

“My apologies, but you’ll have to return our commander now.”

Yet despite her courtesy, Athena was still an exceptional warrior.

Her stance made it clear—refusal would mean blades drawn.

Behind her emerged another woman.

A general draped in equal parts black and red.

The dreaded commander of soldiers who never failed to conquer enemy lines—Carta.

Resting one hand on her sheathed sword, she stood beside Athena.

“Likewise. Hand over Lady Reina.”

“Seems the tables have turned.”

Now, it was the allied forces being encircled—not by mere troops, but Carta’s elite forces.

Two hundred soldiers, each with strength rivaling high-ranking knights.

And among them: “Peerless Under Heaven,” “One Against a Thousand,” and Carta, the commander of soldiers.

Each one a monstrous existence comparable to S-class adventurers.

But the allied forces were no pushovers.

Among them were Luna, the strongest of Grace’s army; Reigar Steelwind; and the White Horse General Albarn.

Even the Liriana Sisters, who had halted “Peerless Under Heaven” herself, stood ready.

As the battle teetered on annihilation, a sly voice cut through.

“H-Hold on… Might we discuss this?”

Gabriel.

Once a lackey of the Five Glories and the woman who incited Black Dawn.

With an ingratiating smile, she trudged forward through the soldiers—unarmed, unarmored, devoid of even notable mana.

She had walked right into the enemy’s reach, where even the slightest sudden movement could end her life without a sound.

Bowing deeply to Erica and Cecilia, she addressed them with practiced etiquette.

“This humble one greets Former Duke Erica Grace and Marchioness Cecilia Raxia.”

The negotiation to end the war had begun.

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A temporary tent was raised to ensure secrecy.

Inside were only three women:

The alliance leaders, Erica and Cecilia.

And Gabriel, here to negotiate.

With talks that must never leak, they began.

Gabriel wasted no time.

“We request you let us go.”

Direct to the point.

Cecilia, seemingly impressed, arched a brow and countered.

“What would our alliance gain?”

“Nothing.”

“Excuse me?”

Erica barked in disbelief, but Cecilia silenced her with a raised hand and pressed on.

“Then why should we spare even a minute of negotiation?”

Her tone was sharp—both rulers clearly irritated.

Yet Gabriel remained unfazed, continuing with her honeyed words.

“My lack of education and time spent among the brutish Five Glories leaves me unable to speak with noble refinement.”

“Are you implying we should release you without compensation?”

Gabriel nodded, then laid out her reasoning through questions.

Why ending the war without gains was actually preferable…

“I heard Lord Cedric Raxia withdrew from the alliance.”

“He did.”

“Then alas, advancing to Baltazar Black Dawn’s stronghold is now impossible.”

“…True.”

“And even if you defeat us, the cost would be dire.”

“….”

Erica and Cecilia fell silent.

They understood the implications laced in Gabriel’s questions.

Without Cedric, the alliance’s funding was crippled.

Meaning reclaiming the Dragon’s Nest was impossible.

Fighting to the death here would gain them nothing beyond empty posturing.

Gabriel smirked, seeing they grasped her meaning.

“Don’t some battles favor a stalemate over victory?”

The two rulers could only concede.

With Cedric gone, funds were insufficient.

Even if they crushed “Peerless” and reclaimed the Dragon’s Nest, key figures would die.

Rebuilding the plundered capital would then fall upon them.

To abandon the ruined throne after preaching loyalty to the Empire?

Unseemly.

But if they settled for a negotiated peace?

They could frame it as an unavoidable compromise against Black Dawn’s impregnable fortress.

They had already slain Grorn, the “General Killer,” and toppled walls—feats beyond reason.

They could claim the glory and avoid the burdens of reconstruction.

“And haven’t you demonstrated your might against Baltazar’s forces? Irregulars, yes, but still.”

Was this war truly a loss?

No.

The alliance had marched undefeated to the Dragon’s Nest.

Their generals had proven their mettle.

“Lord Cedric remains, does he not? A man as vast as the ocean.”

Indeed.

Cedric, their benefactor.

The one who funded the alliance—yet vanished at the critical moment.

The duo known as Fork and Knife—Generals Lyke and Targon—had severed Reigar’s supplies, ensuring his defeat.

And after Cedric left?

They beheaded Grorn, the “General Killer.”

Their strength was undeniable—yet due to Cedric’s absence, compromise became necessary.

“Doesn’t the painted picture seem… perfect?”

Gabriel concluded with a sly grin.

Erica and Cecilia could only chuckle ruefully.

“Damn fox… We planned to extort concessions, but she saw right through us.”

Erica clicked her tongue, arms crossed.

Truthfully, they had already known everything Gabriel laid out.

But her framing—especially mocking Cedric as an “S-class meat shield”—had disarmed them.

Had their opponent been less sharp, they could’ve forced a favorable deal.

Yet in the end, Gabriel’s words won out.

“We gained nothing, just as you said.”

“I’m undeserving of such praise.”

As Gabriel rose to leave, Erica called out.

“With a tongue like that, you must be from a noble house. What’s your name?”

“Gabriel.”

“Not your alias from the Five Glories.”

Gabriel hesitated under Erica’s glare.

Watching her evade, Erica pressed harder.

“Refuse to answer, and this negotiation is void.”

“How childish.”

“And yet our impulsive nature uncovered a fox like you. Hardly a flaw, no?”

“…No argument there.”

After a pause, Gabriel relented.

“Fuerin.”

“Never heard of it.”

“I left before inheriting my family’s name.”

Rising, Gabriel posed one last question.

“I’ve left the Five Glories, and my past name brings me no pride.”

“So?”

“An odd idea, but… Taking the first syllables of ‘Gabriel’ and ‘Fuerin’…”

She smirked.

“‘Gafu.’ Strange, isn’t it?”

“Very.”

“And utterly unremarkable.”

Erica and Cecilia delivered blunt verdicts.

Yet Gabriel merely smiled.

“A strange, flawed woman who wishes to live quietly… Perhaps it fits.”

“‘Strange’ definitely fits.”

And with that, the three women exited the tent.

The tedious two-month war ended—

All thanks to the silver tongue of one woman.