"I cannot possibly satisfy everyone with my rule.
All I need is to ensure that others appear worse than I.
A gift in the snow is always more valuable than a flower tossed onto a feast.
But… Natalya seems to be in that 'sacrificed' city as well.
Natalya… perhaps she could become the next Duke Kashchey."
---
Lately, Natalya had sensed something was wrong in Chernobog.
The streets had grown crowded with unfamiliar faces, and her father had begun assigning bodyguards to escort her to and from school.
"Natalya," he warned gravely, "many outsiders of unknown intent have arrived in Chernobog. You must take care of yourself."
He made her promise: if she ever saw an 'X'-shaped symbol, she was to avoid it immediately.
Natalya knew that symbol well.
It was the mark of the Reunion Movement, founded by Duke Kashchey's foster daughter and former heir—Talulah.
But she could not understand. Why would Talulah choose to become an Infected and form an organization for their sake?
"...What's wrong with the group that Sister Talulah founded?" Natalya asked her father.
"Do not call that leader of Reunion your sister. She is no longer the good girl who grew up with you in the Duke's household. She betrayed Duke Kashchey. She betrayed Ursus. And now… I've received word that Chernobog may be her target. Be careful, my daughter."
"..."
Natalya could not make sense of it.
She had once asked Kashchey himself about Talulah.
After all, Talulah had been her childhood playmate—it was only natural for her to be concerned.
"...She has simply taken the wrong path," Kashchey said with a sorrowful expression.
It was the look of a father watching his daughter stray deeper into rebellion, helpless in his disappointment.
"Natalya, promise me you will not follow in Talulah's footsteps. Her heart may not be evil, but she is far too naïve, far too reckless."
"I won't let you down, Duke Kashchey."
"Hehe… Words are the weakest of bonds. Only action can prove anything. Enough talk of Talulah."
Kashchey brushed aside Natalya's promise without much regard.
Over his long life, he had seen far too many oaths spoken in vain. And such words… were always the easiest to betray.
"Natalya, tell me—do you wish to become a hero?"
---
"Given the circumstances, we can only wager that the Duke staged all this to distance himself from Reunion. As long as the common folk believe some discontent exists against him, every conspiracy will be spun around that idea. At that point, even if it's revealed that Reunion's founder was his former heir, it won't matter. People will simply assume it's an attack on him, a plot to frame him."
"But weren't we the ones framing him in the first place? And didn't we originally just want to force Kashchey into a corner—only to go too far and enrage him instead?"
"If you don't know how to speak properly, keep your mouth shut!"
"Alright, uncle."
"Call me commander!"
"Yes, commander!"
"...Still, there is one piece of good news. According to some whispers from the higher circles, Duke Kashchey doesn't seem eager to handle this matter directly."
"Why not?"
"You think in all of Ursus's thousand-year history, there haven't been similar upheavals before?"
"I see… so there's a good chance Kashchey will choose self-preservation over involvement. But if he decides to interfere? Uncle, you know I studied history—there were indeed uprisings in our history that Duke Kashchey personally crushed."
"Don't be absurd! Those were dangerous revolts that threatened the state itself! What we seek is to restore Ursus to the glory of the First Emperor!"
"But… what if Duke Kashchey doesn't see it that way?"
"...Shut your mouth!"
---
In a wooden hut at the Reunion Movement camp, Talulah sat with Frostnova, Patriot, Alina, and the two talented youngsters—Ino and Sasha. They'd shown such promise they'd already been given code names and promoted as cadres of the movement: Mephistopheles and Faust.
"Talulah, a letter from the Duke has arrived for you."
A scaly-skinned figure materialized abruptly in the hut, interrupting the meeting. He handed a sealed missive to Talulah.
"...How do you always manage to find me?" she asked.
The scaly one remained silent. Talulah broke the seal in front of him and read. The pleasant mood she'd had moments earlier vanished at once.
"Anyone can be the Reunion Movement if they just put on a mask," the letter read.
"Child, I warned you — you will pay for your reckless words."
Kashchey's note told Talulah bluntly that a spectacle was about to play out in Chernobog: the Reunion Movement would be used to trigger unrest there.
Talulah clenched the envelope until her knuckles whitened. She passed the letter around for the other cadre members to read.
"I'm sorry, everyone," she said in a low voice. "It seems we're in trouble."
---
By contrast, Kashchey Manor itself was calm and industrious. Builders and laborers were hard at work clearing debris and rebuilding the collapsed building. They hated the Sarkaz mercenaries who'd executed the terror attack and the count suspected of orchestrating it—but more than that, they wanted to reassure their sorrowful duke. They meant to show Kashchey that Ursus contained far more gratitude than ingratitude, and that not everyone was a backstabbing noble.
Kashchey had not shown himself in days; even his other bodies were absent. Still, the people left cards and gifts piled high at the manor gate—small tokens to comfort the duke who'd sheltered Ursus for centuries.
---
In a jail that wasn't recorded in Kashchey's ledger, a red-haired Sarkaz in a suit stood at the bars, looking in at W, who was imprisoned inside.
"...Satan, you disgust me," W spat.
"Come now, I'm saving your life," Satan said breezily. "If you were out there now, the furious people of Ursus would tear you apart—after all, you're one of those responsible for the destruction. A certain Sarkaz mercenary lady."
"...And the other was you, wasn't it?"
"You got it. No prize, though. Don't worry—after the storm passes I'll let you go. Satan always cares for his customers' safety."
"You treat the people under your care like fools. How can you bear their reverence for you?" W demanded.
"Please don't lump me together with Theresa; that's nauseating," Satan replied. "I've never treated them as fools. On the contrary, I deeply trust their abilities."
(But in his mind, he added: it's precisely because I trust their frightening power that I must clamp them under my control. I trust their strength, not their hearts.)