Prince Frederick insisted on departing for the capital despite the late hour, and he set out as the night had already fallen.

By the time they saw him off, it was already quite late. Sir Gareth remarked,

“Why does Prince Frederick look like he’s swallowed something bitter? Does anyone know?”

Sophia replied, “It’s been that way since we spoke. His expression didn’t change even after speaking with Prince Robert.”

“What did you say to him? Did you call him a traitor?”

At Sir Gareth’s jest, Sophia nodded. Sir Gareth, now wearing a more serious expression, said,

“The Saturn delegation can provoke us all they like; they’re vile enemies, and that’s clear to everyone. But Prince Frederick… What are we going to do about him?”

“That depends on Prince Frederick’s actions. His future hinges on how he handles things now,” Sophia said firmly.

The Marquis of Ariel sighed. “It’s about Cressida, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Lord Cressida showed up, but only three days after the attack—later than even Prince Robert. Whatever preparations Lord Cressida needed, he had the time to make them. If Prince Frederick had been injured in the slightest…”

The Marquis picked up where Sophia left off.

“They’d have accused Ariel and Sir Gareth of conspiring to harm Prince Frederick and elevate Prince Robert to crown prince.”

Sophia nodded. “And they would have leveraged testimony and cooperation from Saturn to attack us, Prince Robert, and House Gareth. Cressida has already crossed the line. Prince Frederick will have to make a choice: either punish the Cressida family himself or use their hands to strike against Uranus.”

Alex shook his head. “If that’s his face after hearing such sound advice, maybe he’s hopeless. He probably just harbors resentment against us.”

The Marquis of Ariel replied, “Even so, he’s still part of Uranus. We must give him the chance to choose the right path. We’ve done what we could. If he bears resentment, then his character is simply too small for anything greater.”

Sir Gareth admired the Marquis’s noble approach but found it reckless at the same time. Yet, it reinforced his trust in the Marquis.

“No matter the situation, he speaks honestly. I like that,” Gareth thought.

***

A week after the Saturn delegation left, the Titania Mountain Range flared red once more. Though the snow had stopped, a gentle spring rain fell briefly before ceasing altogether.

The drizzle ended, but the Titania Mountains began to crumble again. Standing on the castle’s watchtower, the Marquis of Ariel felt the rumble and said,

“They must have thought it’d be fine once winter passed.”

Sophia added, “Now they’ll know we triggered the landslides on purpose.”

“Then they’ll think twice before trying to climb Titania again. If they come back, we’ll do it again.”

“They’ll likely prepare traps of their own next time. They tried it several times before, and we only managed to avoid disaster because we were prepared. We nearly wasted a valuable opportunity.”

“The garrison did an excellent job. They also said your maps were a great help,” the Marquis praised.

Sophia smiled at the compliment and gazed out at the mountain range.

“What do you think will happen now?”

“They’ll look for another route since the landslide blocked this one. But they’ll never find a path into Ariel.”

“That leaves Umbriel and Oberon. They won’t give up just because they couldn’t seize Oberon before.”

“You’re right. They’ll try again. I’ve heard troops have already started stationing at Oberon’s harbor. Gunther said there was even a surprise attack, and the delegation left a terrible impression on the capital. No one opposed sending reinforcements.”

“Why did Saturn’s delegation act that way? Weren’t they trying to sow discord in Uranus? Instead, all they did was provoke the Emperor’s wrath. At least it’s helped stabilize the northern situation, so there’s that.”

“Who knows? Will their king personally step in to soothe tempers? I don’t understand Saturn’s logic either.”

“What about the Saturnian priest, Methone? What do you think is going through his mind?”

The Marquis sighed and replied, “Saturn has such strict social hierarchies, yet they entrust war planning to a priest. How does that even work?”

Sophia shared some additional details she’d learned from Gunther. “Apparently, he comes from a prestigious family and only became a priest because of his strong faith. But he’s quite talented, too. They say competition among priests for high positions in Saturn is fierce. He’s already crafted several strategies that worked well, so his skills are undeniable.”

“Using faith to wage war… They must believe their god will grant them victory. It’s a selfish kind of faith.”

“Isn’t faith inherently selfish? We pray to the goddess, don’t we? We ask her to protect Ariel.”

“True, but we don’t expect the goddess to swing a sword for us. Never mind, there’s no point blaming anyone. By the way, is that man—what was his name, Dionen or something—still alive? The one who dared mock my son?”

Sophia laughed as she responded.

“The king of Saturn once said that when he is angry, the army finds a place to vent that anger. Who do you think will bear the brunt of it? Since Sir Dione and Sir Enceladus are relatives, this war likely puts not just their lives but their entire family line at stake. They’ll fight with everything they’ve got, that much is certain.”

“Indeed. Summon them. They’ll finally understand what it means to fight for their necks and their family’s survival.”

“I hope so, but I have my doubts,” Sophia replied.

“Why?”

“Gunther predicts they won’t receive proper support. Considering they embarrassed the king and Sir Enceladus is the commander of the Titanian Knights, the king likely told them to fight using every resource they have. Other noble families and commanders probably don’t want to be associated with them, leaving them isolated on the battlefield.”

The Marquis of Ariel looked at Sophia, prompting her to cautiously share her opinion.

“The ideal scenario would be for them to turn their swords against Saturn, not us. But they’re not capable of that. According to what Gunther said, Saturn’s king would never let them have that kind of power.”

“It’s not uncommon for a king to pit noble houses against each other to weaken their influence, but placing the burden of war on an individual’s shoulders? It makes me wonder how Saturn even functions. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised to hear that their king has been assassinated someday.”

Sophia nodded in agreement with the Marquis’s observation.

***

For a while, the mountain range was quiet. Then, a week later, Titania burned once again. Sir Gareth, the Marquis of Ariel, and Sophia ascended the castle’s watchtower to look out over the mountains.

With a worried expression, Sophia said, “Saturn set the Titania Mountains on fire.”

The Marquis, his face darkened with anger, replied, “Their last resort, I see. And to think they claim to have faith. How dare they commit such blasphemy against the goddess Titania…!”

“With only combat troops, they probably don’t have the manpower to put out the fire. We need to evacuate our people.”

“Deploy the reserve troops immediately. We’ll see how well our training pays off.”

“Yes, let’s hope the damage is minimal. Do you think they did this to gain better visibility?”

“Whatever their reason, it was clear they were rotten from the start when they let a priest plan their war. Blasphemous fools. They dare accuse Uranus of lacking faith!”

“Saturn won’t give up easily, will they?”

Sir Gareth, observing the fire, said, “No, they won’t. From what I hear, policy failures in Saturn often result in the death of those responsible.”

Sophia, now visibly annoyed, remarked, “If Sir Dione, Sir Enceladus, and Priest Methone’s lives are tied to this, they’ll fight with everything they’ve got. We can’t count on luck.”

The Marquis spoke firmly, “Wars are never won by luck. They’re won through meticulous preparation. While our preparations may not be the best, we’ve done our utmost. Thanks to Sir Gareth’s assistance, and because everyone here fights to protect their home without any thoughts of losing, we stand a chance.”

“Yes, that’s true,” Sophia acknowledged.

Though Sophia often clashed with Sir Gareth, she had learned a great deal from him. She appreciated his systematic training, and it was starting to show results.

It wasn’t as immediate as Sophia had hoped, but she accepted his logic.

Sir Gareth joked, “If the Titania Mountains were truly the goddess herself, wouldn’t she strike down those who dared to set fire to her?”

“Even if not lightning, rain would do,” Sophia replied. “That would at least slow them down and help extinguish the fire.”

“I heard your name, Sophia, was inspired by the first head of House Ariel. Why don’t you try asking the goddess for rain?”

With a deadpan expression, Sophia raised her hands and said, “Grant us rain, Goddess Titania. So that we may sweep away those who dared set fire to your lands.”

Sir Gareth chuckled at her sarcastic gesture, but suddenly, a rumble of thunder echoed from the sky.

The two looked at each other before glancing up. The other people on the watchtower, watching the fire, also turned their gazes skyward.

Sophia, skeptical, remarked, “If it really rains, should we offer a sacrifice? Maybe another landslide on Saturn’s side would put out the fire.”

Sir Gareth, still staring at the sky, said, “If it rains, that might be a good idea. But didn’t we just cause a landslide not long ago? Saturn probably accounted for that and timed their attack.”

Sophia shook her head. “Even so, we can trigger a smaller one. If it rains, it’ll make it easier.”

Sir Gareth, his face filled with hope, said, “If it rains, it’ll be great for morale.”

Sophia began singing, “Saturn’s wretched scoundrels. Struck by lightning for their misdeeds, punished by the goddess herself.”

“Childish, but not bad,” Sir Gareth said with a grin.

“It’s an old Ariel war song. It’s time we revived it.”

Inspired, Jack enthusiastically led the song, and soon, the soldiers around the watchtower joined in with cheers, laughter, and song.

As if by a miracle, rain began to pour. That night, another landslide struck.

The next morning, Sir Gareth remarked.

“If Saturn truly fails to cross the Titania Mountains, I imagine a new religion will emerge. Even I might start believing in the Goddess Titania.”

***

In Saturn’s camp, Dione stormed into the command tent, covered in mud. Frustrated, he wiped the mud off his face and flung it to the ground.

“I wish those Ariel bastards would stop with their landslides. The fire barely burned anything before the rain extinguished it. Instead, the wildfire ended up wiping out Saturn’s trees, and now the mud has swept into our encampment!”

Sir Enceladus replied, “Is it the wrath of the goddess?”

Dione snapped, “Even you’re saying that? Please, don’t. I’ve just finished disciplining the soldiers who were spreading such talk. The landslides have thrown us into chaos, and now rumors like that are spreading. And that damned song isn’t helping either.”

“Could spies be spreading it?”

“Possibly. Ariel is close to us, even with Titania between us. There’s been no shortage of interaction and trade. Plenty of people here don’t even know why we’re at war. It’s hard to care about a war that offers nothing tangible to gain.”

“They say Saturn will gain salt mines.”

“But it’s not like the money from those mines will go into their own pockets. Why would they fight passionately for that?”

“Well, that’s true.”

Dione glared at the still-indifferent Sir Enceladus and said, “You’re still holding a grudge, aren’t you? Tying down the Titan Knights… do they even intend to win this war? Do they really want victory?”

“The king has long sought to weaken the Titan Knights. He wouldn’t want to lose this opportunity. Even if we lose the war, he’ll only lose money or resources at most. Uranus won’t cross the Titania Mountains, so there’s nothing to fear. Many of those in power, including the king, have nothing to lose. Why would his hangers-on be any different?”

Dione, now sounding despondent, said, “They’ll make us pay for all their losses. This war was designed to sap our strength from the beginning. It’s only because the priest Methone got involved that it even looks halfway respectable.”

“The chaos of Uranus isn’t true chaos. The real chaos lies here in Saturn,” Enceladus muttered.

As they spoke, a man entering the tent interrupted, “Watch your words. After all, your head is still attached to your body, isn’t it?”

Methone, the priest in white robes, parted the tent flaps and entered. His large, rotund figure resembled a boiled egg. His face gleamed with an unnatural smoothness, and his pristine white robes shimmered as though polished.

Even in the mud-covered camp, it seemed as if not a single speck of dirt dared touch him.