Editor : Amethyst00



The capital of Davienne, Daeng.

It had currently been declared a neutral zone in an effort to prevent the worsening of the civil war between the First Princess faction and the Second Prince faction.

Of course, the declaration of neutrality wasn't the result of voluntary negotiations between the First Princess and the Second Prince.

A nation's capital is the city where the monarch—the pinnacle of power—resides.

For the First Princess and the Second Prince, who both coveted the throne, it was inevitably a place they would want to seize, no matter the cost.

The civil war in Davienne had even started in Daeng, the capital.

A brutal battle had taken place right in the heart of the capital.

But the fierce fighting in Daeng soon came to an end, and both the First Princess and the Second Prince were forced to flee the city with their respective factions.

That was because of a third force within Davienne.

The loyal retainers, who had been guarding the eastern front against Tartaros and held Davienne's core military strength, had intervened in the civil war.

That first and only intervention by the heroes of the eastern front of Tartaros was the only time they took part in the civil conflict.

"Why don't the loyalists of the eastern front get further involved in the civil war?"

Eiran asked with a puzzled expression.

The elves, with Lunia at the lead, also looked curious.

Though they had intervened in the civil war at the request of the Second Prince, as members of another race, they couldn't quite understand why the heroes and loyalists—considered Davienne's core military power—weren't taking further action to mediate the civil war.

In response to Eiran's question, Leo crossed his arms and glanced over at Celia.

Lordren, the western hegemon of the continent, had political entanglements as complex as those of Davienne.

And Celia was a top-ranking military noble from that very nation.

She was well suited to explain the situation to the elves.

"It's because the nobles guarding the eastern front of Tartaros have no justification."

"No justification?"

"Right. Both the First Princess and the Second Prince have legitimate claims to the throne. But in contrast, the loyalists of the Tartaros eastern front were all those who had sworn allegiance to the now-deceased Crown Prince."

As such, they had no justification to participate in the war for the throne.

Their involvement in the battle for the capital was merely an attempt to create a justification where there was none.

They simply couldn't stand by and watch the capital be destroyed.

"Wasn't there any way to determine the successor to the throne peacefully? Like, maybe the princess and prince could just duel or something?"

Leah from Seiren, her body wrapped in bandages, asked with a curious look.

Elena, watching Leah, burst into laughter with a "Pfft!"

Leah's face bore clear teeth marks—traces from when she had been bitten by Lysinas earlier.

Of course, it wasn't a major injury with torn flesh or blood pouring out that required stitches.

If Lysinas had truly meant it, that could've happened. But she had only lightly bitten her to scold her for spreading absurd rumors about her.

Still, it was unavoidable that the bite mark remained visible.

"Leo, you think it's funny too, right?"

"I do."

'That damn witch from Zeron!'

Leah glared at Elena with fire in her eyes.

It was already embarrassing, and Elena's emphasis on her humiliation in front of the respected Leo made her all the more infuriating.

Of course, Elena was a fifth-year student, but what could she do about being glared at a bit?

After all, Leah was a Seiren student.

Even in terms of family background, she wasn't easily outmatched.

If the Zeron family was a disciple house of Lumene, then she was from the family of the Comet Mage.

Both families had strong ties to the heroes of Dawn, so there was a fierce rivalry between Zeron and Tingel.

"Oh my~ how scary."

Elena feigned fright.

"Ahem! To answer Leah Tingel's question… if they were that confident in their abilities, they wouldn't have started a civil war in the first place."

Celia continued the explanation, clearing her throat to prevent the conversation from veering off track.

If even one of the two—Princess or Prince—had been more wise and capable, the loyalists of the eastern front, who had followed the Crown Prince, would've supported them.

Unfortunately, neither the First Princess nor the Second Prince resembled their father, the late king, nor their older brother, the Crown Prince, in the slightest.

They had no ability—only greed.

The nobles around them were also incompetents who buzzed around royal authority like flies around rot.

People who normally would've had no ties to the royal throne had gone crazy at the sight of a shaken crown.

And if the loyalists picked one side, they'd inevitably face a bloody purge from that side—even if they were warned otherwise.

The opposing faction, then, would resist with everything they had, just to survive.

At that point, the country would truly be split in two.

That's why the loyalists of the Crown Prince couldn't easily get involved in the current civil war.

With the front line against Tartaros unstable, any further internal strife would plunge the continent into unpredictable chaos.

Internally and externally, the political situation was already unstable.

With no best choice remaining, the only thing left was to choose the lesser evil over the worst option.

Such is the weight of justification and legitimacy in human royal society.

Ignore it, and the entire nation could crumble.

"Bloodlines mean more to humans than you might think. Sometimes more than individual ability."

Celia gave a bitter smile.

In fact, among all races, the one that values bloodlines the most is none other than the elves.

But there is one crucial difference between elves and humans.

Elves have no principle of primogeniture.

They value noble bloodlines, but don't pass on status to someone who lacks ability.

For elves, noble lineage means "a bloodline from which excellence is born."

In a human noble family, if the heir lacks ability, they wait for the next generation.

But in an elven noble family, if someone else in the same generation is more capable, they take over—or, if no such person exists, the family loses its status entirely.

'That must be why elves, despite being the fewest in number, are the most powerful of all races.'

Unlike other races that spread across the continent, elves held power only in the north.

In terms of territory, they had the smallest share—and the harshest, being confined to the cold north.

Yet, despite that, elves were still the strongest race of all.

"So humans think the one born first has more legitimacy than the one with more ability, even if they share the same bloodline."

Leah nodded in understanding.

The famous twins, the Trina siblings, also looked intrigued.

"Why is that, I wonder?"

"Yeah, why?"

Seeing their reactions, where they understood the answer but not the reasoning, Celia let out a quiet laugh.

"Well, I guess from your perspective it doesn't make much sense. I think so too…"

"Maybe it's because the firstborn is around longer, so there's more time to observe their development?"

At that moment, a Seiren student proposed a hypothesis.

More precisely, the earlier a child is born, the more likely they are to develop the skills needed as an heir.

Unlike the magical elves, humans often produce average offspring.

But the elves didn't seem interested in thinking that far.

They just interpreted it in their own convenient way.

"Right. Since they're around longer, the parents naturally grow more attached to them."

"Mmm! That makes sense!"

Watching the elves form their own hypotheses, the Lumene students thought:

'They'll probably conclude that human culture is irrationally sentimental.'

'Well, it's not the first time elves have been arrogant.'

"Humans really are a race that values love! Choosing love for their children over the fate of their family line!"

"A race of love!"

"No wonder Luna's partner was Kyle!"

"A race of faith, too!"

"Ahh. Even if someone is a bit lacking, they embrace them with trust!"

"Exactly! It may seem irrational, but that trust must be why human noble families stand shoulder to shoulder with elven ones!"

"So cool!"

"A race of love and faith!"

At their conclusion, the Lumene students were left speechless, their mouths agape.

Why had they arrived at such a twisted conclusion?

Watching this, Elena muttered with an indifferent look:

"Sometimes I wonder if elves are just racially hardheaded."

"Are you insulting our race right now?"

Lunia snapped in a fierce voice.

But Elena calmly continued her thoughts.

"Think about it. Your race has been blessed with magic since ancient times. Has there ever been a time in history when elves were considered a weak race?"

"……"

No, there hadn't.

Despite being the fewest in number, elves had always been among the strongest.

Exceptional mana sensitivity.

Physical abilities close to beastkin in strength and speed.

Craftsmanship second only to dwarves.

And outstanding intellect.

Elves had always had pride in their culture and strength—and rightfully so.

Humans, beastkin, and dwarves had all faced extinction crises. Elves never had.

Conversely, while humans, beastkin, and dwarves had sometimes ruled the continent, elves never had.

"I'm not saying you're dumb. Just that your thinking lacks flexibility—like a rock."

Lunia couldn't argue back.

"Maybe the creator gave your race that personality as a final act of conscience—because otherwise, you'd be too overpowered."

It was hard to argue, especially with classmates and juniors enthusiastically idolizing humanity—people who, until recently, firmly believed elves were superior.

Now, overnight, they had become "humanity fans."

Better than looking down on humans, sure…

'But seriously, do these damn pointy-eared people not understand moderation?!'

Letting out a groan, Lunia grabbed at her hair.

Watching her, Leo said:

"You're going through a lot."

"…What would Lady Luna have done?"

Lunia muttered with a gloomy expression.

She didn't expect a reply.

Unfortunately, someone did reply.

"She'd probably knock you on the head with her staff and tell you to get a grip."

"……"

She wanted to deny it—but couldn't. Again.