*Kingdom of Brotan, Royal Audience Hall* 

“The Empire is attempting to negotiate with Ildemar and Kaen?”  
“Yes, Your Majesty.”  

Antoine reported the news that the Dragonia Empire had sent envoys to the Kingdoms of Ildemar and Kaen.  

“I see. Well, that’s no surprise. We already expected as much. If the Empire isn’t moving its troops immediately, this is the logical next step.”  
“Exactly, Your Majesty.”  

The idea that the Empire might apply diplomatic pressure had already been discussed extensively, so Guillaume reacted nonchalantly.  

“Has there been a response from Ildemar?”  

Having written off the defeated Kingdom of Kaen as irrelevant, Guillaume focused only on the outcome of negotiations with Ildemar.  

“Yes. They have stated that they have no intention of negotiating with the Empire and remain committed to their alliance with Brotan.”  
“As they should.”  

Guillaume smiled in satisfaction, nodding at the response.  

“Ildemar isn’t foolish enough to accept the Empire’s proposal.”  
“Indeed, Your Majesty. If Brotan were to fall, Ildemar would undoubtedly be the Empire’s next target.”  
“Hmm. Cooperating with us is clearly in their best interest.”  

With his worries temporarily eased, Guillaume allowed himself a brief moment of relief.  

---

A few days later, when a report arrived detailing Ildemar and Kaen’s reactions to the Imperial envoys:

*BANG!*

“This… this can’t be true!”  

Guillaume slammed his fist onto the armrest of his throne, his voice booming with rage as veins bulged on his neck.  

“Kaen? Those dogs, fine! They’ve already been defeated; it’s only natural for them to grovel before the Empire. But!”  

With trembling hands, he held up the report and thrust it toward Antoine, who stood before him.  

“Ildemar—traitors! They harbored the Empire’s envoys for several days? Duke Clavier!”  
“...Yes, Your Majesty.”  
“You assured me of their loyalty! How could this happen?”  

As the one responsible for Brotan’s diplomacy with Ildemar, Antoine became the target of Guillaume’s fury, compounded by the king’s long-standing grievances.  

“The Imperial envoys only brought modest gifts. For a neutral Ildemar, refusing them outright—”  
“Gifts? Did you just say *gifts*?”  

Antoine attempted a calm explanation, but Guillaume’s shouting silenced him.  

“Rumors are already spreading across the kingdom that Ildemar is carefully considering the Empire’s proposal! If they had intended to uphold their loyalty, they should have sent the envoys back immediately, no matter what they brought!”  
“...”  
“Testing the waters with the Empire while claiming friendship with us? It’s outright disrespect!”  
“This is my failure. I deeply apologize, Your Majesty.”  

Even Antoine could not deny that Guillaume had a point. Bowing his head in apology, he sought to placate the enraged king.  

“...Hah.”  

Guillaume’s anger subsided slightly as he observed Antoine’s uncharacteristic display of submission, but Brotan’s precarious situation remained unchanged.  

If Ildemar were to truly align with the Empire, Brotan would face total isolation.  

Guillaume felt as if the noose was tightening around his neck.  

“Duke Clavier, send another letter to Ildemar. We must confirm their intentions.”  
“As you command, Your Majesty.”  

Attempting to regain his composure, Guillaume sought clarity from Ildemar.  

---

*Meanwhile...*

“Your Majesty! News from Laieux! Some of the prisoners, including Count Bébys Lefebvre, have returned under a white flag!”  
“...What?”  

Viktor’s next move arrived before Guillaume could act.

---

A few days later, the liberated prisoners from the Empire arrived at the Brotan capital of Leboua.  

“Count Lefebvre has arrived.”  
“...Let him in.”  
“Yes, Your Majesty.”  

Already on edge from reports of the Empire consolidating forces, Guillaume scowled and gave his curt command to admit Bébys into the audience hall.  

*Creak.*  

The doors opened, and Bébys, dressed in the attire of an Imperial noble, entered with a slight bow.  

“I greet Your Majesty.”  
“...You carry a message?”  
“Yes, Your Majesty.”  

Even the sight of Bébys’ attire made Guillaume’s blood boil, but he struggled to maintain composure.  

“You are unaware of its contents?”  
“No, Your Majesty. I have not opened it.”  

Bébys approached Antoine and handed over the envelope containing the Empire’s terms.  

“...”  

Antoine, already uneasy about the Empire’s tactics, reluctantly accepted the envelope and extracted its contents.  

As he scanned the letter, his face turned ashen.  

“Duke Clavier, read it aloud.”  
“...Yes, Your Majesty.”  

With cold sweat dripping down his back, Antoine steadied his voice and began to read:  

“To King Guillaume Châtillon of the Kingdom of Brotan, from Gerhardt Weisschild, Commander of the Dragonia Empire.  

The Dragonia Empire desires an end to unnecessary bloodshed. In the interest of peace, we propose the following terms:  

First, the Kingdom of Brotan shall grant the Empire unrestricted military passage through its territory.  

Second, the standing army of Brotan shall be limited to no more than 40,000 troops, with their training and deployment overseen by Imperial military advisors.  

Third, control over Brotan’s key ports and trade routes shall be transferred to the Empire, and 20% of the kingdom’s tax revenue shall be paid annually to the Empire.  

Fourth, all diplomatic decisions by Brotan shall be made in consultation with the Empire.  

Fifth, Brotan shall provide military and economic support to the Empire as requested. In return, the Empire guarantees Brotan’s autonomy and the dignity of its royal family.”  

---

The room fell silent as Antoine finished reading.  

Guillaume, his face red with fury, crushed the armrests of his throne with his grip.  

“Duke Clavier.”  

“Yes, Your Majesty.”  

“Give me that.”  

Snatching the letter from Antoine with trembling hands, Guillaume read through the terms himself. A heavy, ominous silence enveloped the hall.  

Then:  

“AAAAAAARGH!”  

Guillaume’s furious roar shattered the silence.  

*BANG! BANG! CRACK!*  

His scepter struck the ground repeatedly until it broke apart.  

“...”  
“Damn it, damn it, damn it!”  

While Antoine might normally have attempted to calm Guillaume, he now remained seated, too paralyzed with fear to act.  

“These wretched dogs mock me!”  
“Eek...”  
“Your Majesty...”  

Bébys prostrated himself, and the nobles held their breaths, afraid to meet Guillaume’s gaze.  

---

As Guillaume panted heavily, leaning back against the throne, the tension in the audience hall became unbearable.  

“Duke Clavier. What do you think? Is it still time to endure?”  
“...”  

Before Antoine could respond:  

*THUD!*

“Your Majesty! News from Pirot Castle!”  

A messenger burst into the hall, kneeling before the king.  

“...Pirot Castle? Speak.”  
“Imperial forces are massing in large numbers at Aniak!”  
“The Empire?”  

Guillaume shot to his feet, his rage reigniting.  

“So, the Empire truly intends to fight. Duke Clavier.”  
“Yes, Your Majesty.”  
“It seems this is the opportunity you spoke of.”  

Antoine froze at Guillaume’s words, his mind racing.  

“How many troops have we gathered?”  
“Nearly 60,000, Your Majesty.”  

Although 60,000 seemed substantial, Antoine knew that after deducting the 20,000 stationed at the Kaen border, the remaining troops were little more than a hastily conscripted militia. Losing them would spell the kingdom’s doom.

“But...”  
“But what?”  

*Shing.*

Guillaume unsheathed his sword and pointed it at Antoine.  

“Continue, Antoine. Are you suggesting we endure this insult?”  
“That’s not...”  

Antoine hesitated, scrutinizing Guillaume’s expression. If the king’s decision stemmed from blind rage, Antoine resolved to stake his life on stopping him.  

However—  

“After hearing the Empire’s terms to turn us into their puppet state, do you still dare speak of patience? Is it because we are too weak? Because we cannot win?”  

Guillaume’s voice, laced with venom, contrasted with the calmness in his eyes.  

“If not now, then when? Their reinforcements continue to arrive, and their defenses grow stronger. Waiting only ensures our destruction.”  

Neither Antoine nor Guillaume could have known that the "reinforcements" entering Aniak were the same troops quietly withdrawing at night.

Understanding that Guillaume had no other options left, Antoine knelt.  

“Your Majesty has made your decision.”  

Guillaume turned to the gathered nobles and roared:  

“Hear me, all of you! The Empire masses its forces at Aniak! I will personally lead our troops to reclaim Saint-Toir!”  

The King of Brotan declared his march to war.