Trinity of Magic

Chapter 573 B8 - 70: Kingmaker

"What nonsense is this?" the princess spat. This time, she could no longer mask her anger, her perpetual smile twisting into a scowl. "Are you honestly demanding that I, a princess and prospective heir to the throne, hand over command of our armies to a group of outsiders? And you dare call that the greater good?"

Her eyes were as cold as a glacier. Yet her gaze was not fixed on Zeke alone. It swept across the other leaders as well, who had begun eyeing her with undisguised greed. These were the same looks they had directed at Zeke earlier, the eyes of predators sensing prey.

The situation had completely reversed. But, unlike Zeke, it was obvious that she wasn't able to handle the pressure nearly as well.

He saw it clearly. Beneath her outrage, beneath the facade of cold indifference, another emotion had taken hold. Fear. The fear of losing everything she had painstakingly built, the authority she had claimed, and the future she had envisioned. It was all beginning to slip through her fingers.

"...Careful," she warned. "Otherwise, I may be tempted to think that it is not the Empire that poses the greatest threat to our nation, but our so-called allies..." It was a naked threat. She was drawing dangerously close to the point of no return.

"Do not take it personally, Princess," Zeke said calmly. "It is a strategic assessment, nothing more."

"Strategic, my ass," she shot back, glaring at him. "Do you think you are fooling anyone? You are trying to take revenge on me. Is that not the truth?"

Zeke remained silent for a moment, his eyes locked on hers.

He could hear the desperation in her voice. She had her back against the wall, and she knew it. At this point, he had a dozen ways to refute her accusation. He could simply point out that no number of natives could stand against the Legion, otherwise they would never have lost their country in the first place. He could argue that their magic was primarily supportive and would have a far greater impact if distributed among units with stronger combat power. He could even emphasize that their knowledge of the terrain was an invaluable asset to the other forces.

None of this would be a lie. In fact, Zeke stood to gain a great deal by presenting exactly those arguments. And yet, he hesitated.

Something held him back.

From a strategic standpoint, his reasoning was sound. Too sound. The plan he had presented was, by far, the most effective course of action. Any competent strategist would agree, as shown by how quickly the other leaders had aligned themselves with him.

On paper, there was nothing to contest.

Unfortunately, the world was not made of paper, but of people. Of flesh and blood, of hopes and dreams. And this was no longer a theoretical debate. If he spoke those final words, they could not be taken back. The other leaders would surge forward at once, eager to carve up this tempting prize before anyone else could claim it.

In this quiet moment of reflection, Zeke saw the situation for what it truly was. He had his hands wrapped around the princess's throat, holding her suspended above a pit of ravenous beasts hungry for her flesh.

All it would take was a single push, and she would be devoured. She knew it as well. He could see it in the tremor of her pupils, in the faint shaking of her hands. The desperation in her eyes was unmistakable.

They would take everything from her, and it would break her.

Was that truly what he wanted? It had been, at first. Now, he was no longer certain.

In the beginning, aside from any strategic concerns, he had genuinely wanted revenge for her attempt to corner him. That was why he had guided the debate in this direction, cutting off her avenues of retreat and tightening the net step by step. Everything had been arranged so he could end her position with a single decisive blow.

He had felt no guilt about it. She had been the one to strike first, and she would not have hesitated to ruin him or his people if it suited her purposes. Morally, he was justified in destroying her.

And yet, as he looked at the woman glaring at him from across the hall, a different thought took root.

Crushing her would be easy. It might even feel satisfying in the moment. But was that truly the kind of person he wanted to become? Someone who uprooted a life on a whim? Someone who shattered another's future for personal gain? Somebody who destroyed rather than created?

Countless thoughts flashed through his mind as the entire hall waited for his answer. The elven representative remained silent, while the other leaders seemed ready to pounce the instant he spoke.

It was a powder keg waiting for a spark.

At last, Zeke opened his mouth. But the words that followed were nothing like what anyone expected.

"I have met two of your brothers, you know," he said, his tone almost conversational. The shift in subject and tone was so jarring that several people looked at him in confusion. Zeke continued as if he did not notice.

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"When I found your brother Khaelryn, he was imprisoned by the Legion. By the time I reached him, he had willingly cut off his own ears and was licking their boots like a dog. He had even revealed the secret location of your last stronghold and offered to guide them there."

The princess's glare sharpened, but she remained silent.

"Your other brother, Edras, was hiding like a rat. Even under the protection of ten Archmages, his only concern was how to flee and abandon his people."

"What is the point of saying this?" the princess interrupted coldly. "Are you trying to prove that my family is unfit to lead? Or do you simply wish to humiliate me?"

Zeke's expression did not change despite her hostile tone. He met her gaze with calm, steady eyes.

"Miriel Arden Rukia," he said, speaking her full name for the first time. "Of all the members of the royal family I have encountered, you are by far the most remarkable."

Her mouth parted slightly. This was clearly not what she had expected.

"You have not only avoided capture, but you also refused to hide or cower as your siblings did. Instead, you gathered a considerable force and chose to fight back. You have done more than most in your position ever could."

He paused, holding her gaze. "I applaud you."

Her eyes trembled, a storm of emotions flashing within them. Anger lingered, mingled now with surprise, suspicion, and the faintest trace of hope.

Zeke smiled at her. It was a genuine smile, free of mockery or hidden intent. "It must have been difficult."

She held his gaze for a moment before slowly lowering her head, unable to meet his eyes any longer.

Silence settled over the hall. No one knew what to say. The atmosphere, charged with hostility only moments ago, had shifted into something strange, as though a battle had been suspended mid strike.

Zeke continued. "You asked whether I was targeting you out of revenge. The answer is simple. I am not targeting you at all."

The princess spoke, her voice trembling slightly, though she managed to keep it steady. "If that is true, then why would you ask me to disband my forces?"

This time, Zeke did not hesitate. "Because it is the best choice."

"...So, my presence can only be a hindrance?"

There was no anger left in her words, only quiet resignation. She seemed to have accepted that he was presenting what he believed to be the optimal strategy, without any personal scheme against her. Yet she had reached the wrong conclusion in the end.

Zeke offered a faint smile. "Not at all. I simply believe your talents are being wasted in your current role."

She gave no visible reaction. He could not blame her. Even to his own ears, it sounded like hollow consolation. But he meant it.

"Princess," he said gently, waiting until she lifted her head before continuing. "You are intelligent, resourceful, and you understand the broader picture. But that is where it ends. You are not the best strategist here, nor the strongest commander or warrior."

Though his words could have been taken as a string of insults, she did not look away. She listened.

"But there is one thing you can do better than any of us," he went on. "It is the very reason you were able to gather thousands under your banner in such a short time."

A flicker of expectation entered her eyes.

"You are the only princess who still stands strong, who still dares to fight. Only someone like you can restore the spirit of the countless men and women who have lost hope," Zeke said. "You must become the soul of Rukia. You must guide them. You must lead them into a new future."

Her eyes widened as understanding dawned. She could see where he was leading, and he did not leave her waiting.

"Half the country has been reclaimed," he said. "It will need a queen to rule it."

"...My mother is the queen," the princess replied.

Though phrased as a statement, her words were a question. She was asking what she was meant to do.

"It is not the title that grants authority," Zeke said. "It is those who hold authority that are granted titles."

Her eyes trembled. Zeke continued, his voice steady. "When the people speak with one voice, no one will be able to deny your position."

His words were not meant for her alone. They were for everyone in the hall. He was drawing a line.

"I, Ezekiel von Hohenheim, representative of the Fourth Branch of Yggdrasil, declare my support for Her Highness Miriel Arden Rukia as the next Queen of Rukia," he proclaimed solemnly. Having chosen his course, he would commit to it fully. "Furthermore, I promise that at the end of this war, I will return all forces currently serving under me. That includes two princes, eleven Archmages, and one hundred fifty-nine Grand Mages as of today."

From the corner of his eye, he saw the smile that blossomed on Irisen's face. He had noticed earlier how conflicted she had been about standing opposite the princess. They must have shared a close bond. That, too, had been one of the reasons he hesitated to crush her outright. Anyone capable of earning Irisen's loyalty was not to be underestimated.

And now that he had decided to stand with her, it was time he bullied the other leaders into following suit. Fortunately, there was a simple way to do that. After all, nobody would willingly sit out when such a tempting meal was put right before their eyes.

"Your Highness," he said, deliberately elevating her status. "Now that you have my pledge, there should be no hesitation in lending your forces to me, correct?"

A slow smile spread across Princess Miriel's face. "Naturally, I have no reservations about lending my forces to you, Lord Ezekiel," she replied sweetly. "Simply tell me how many you require, and I will issue the order at once."

"Good, good," Zeke said with an eager nod. "How many Archmages do you have at your dis—"

"Your Highness," Marek Volst of Tradespire interrupted, cutting him off. "Before you make any rash decisions, the rest of us should be allowed to speak."

The princess turned to him, waiting.

Marek glanced between Zeke and the princess, then let out a measured breath. "My pledge mirrors that of Lord Ezekiel. I will support Your Highness, Miriel, and upon my departure, I will return any forces lent to me."

Silas Dorn, Marek's longtime rival, spoke next. "I make the same promise..."

It was as though a dam had burst. Within moments, most of the twelve leaders had offered their pledges.

Zeke watched in silence as the princess, moments ago on the brink of ruin, rose higher with every new pledge. Whenever her gaze drifted toward him, it carried unmistakable gratitude. This was a debt she would remember for the rest of her life.

He had made the right choice.

Instead of destroying an enemy, he had gained an ally. Instead of tearing her down, he had raised her up. Instead of earning the resentment of a princess, he had secured the favor of a queen.

When he returned to this country one day, he would be welcomed as an honored guest.

Now, only one question remained: how to ensure there would be a country to return to.