I Was Excommunicated from the Order of Holy Knights

The scene before my eyes was like a bustling market filled with countless people gathered from all corners of the continent.

Men and women, young and old, swarmed together in a lively crowd.

Taking in the scene, Cazerose, who was beside me, spoke with genuine amazement.

“Wow… I never expected this many people to show up. Honestly, this feels more like a festival than a conference.”

“I agree,” I replied.

The road leading to Westphalia Castle was packed with throngs of people.

Most of them displayed their national pride with flags and attire, allowing us to quickly recognize how many foreign representatives had come.

Among those were not only the lords from within and beyond the Sacred Empire related to this war, but also a delegation from the Franz Kingdom and the Kalmar United States, even coming from the distant Britten Kingdom across the sea.

Although they carried the title of ‘delegates,’ they were definitely not just a handful of folks.

Their numbers ranged from dozens to hundreds, and some groups were so scattered that the visible crowd was merely the tip of the iceberg.

However, the number of people who could actually enter the conference hall representing their countries was barely over a hundred.

Even then, that included a minimal escort and staff. The actual decision-makers numbered around twenty, and only about five held meaningful influence.

Still, the reason behind the overwhelming turnout at Westphalia was simple.

Everyone gathered here was essentially the face of their country.

Their size and accompanying presence revealed their nation’s power, thus having many attendees was not just for practicality but primarily to showcase their nation’s strength to others.

In a way, it was like children flaunting their nice clothes at school and comparing them to their friends.

Yet, it was a juvenile act that often kick-started the very serious power struggles between nations.

Even during the conference, battles over who gets introduced first or who sits in the highest position — essentially protocol — dragged on endlessly.

The thought that this place resembled a festival or marketplace wasn’t just a feeling; most attendees arrived with plenty of free time.

Whether they left satisfied or not, their common mindset was that they wouldn’t rush back.

To put it differently, this place was filled with guests ready for a long stay—each representing their country and with fat wallets.

As a result, merchants eager to sell items and others hoping to snag some crumbs from that wealth were also flocking to the area.

I even felt tempted to set up a stall myself if it weren’t for my current position at this “marketplace.”

‘The real problem is that I have to conduct this meeting, which makes all of this less than delightful…’

Once the political dance begins, there’s no end to it.

In fact, since the Westphalia Conference began in the original work, its main preoccupation for six months was that ridiculous protocol order.

A childish pride battle just to slightly elevate their nation’s status.

Furthermore, the discussions about the war’s causes and related responsibilities consumed another year before they could finally start the actual meeting.

‘They had their reasons back then, but even though the situation is a bit different this time, I can’t let my guard down…’

It looked like a pointless time was wasted resembling the original work’s Westphalia Conference.

However, it wasn’t just because the attendees were a bunch of idiots.

Despite appearances, they were individuals with respectable knowledge, eloquence, and power to represent their countries.

True, the names currently present were far more glamorous, but those who participated as ambassadors then were noteworthy figures too.

Still, the main reason they dragged out the meetings was probably due to a cunning tactic to hold the council at a time most favorable to them.

‘In the original work, battles continued even while the Westphalia Conference was ongoing…’

In the early meetings, when things were going in favor of the Franz Kingdom and the Kalmar Kingdom, the Sacred Empire’s delegation seized every opportunity to delay proceedings.

However, midway through, the Sacred Empire launched a full-scale counteroffensive, gaining the upper hand, at which point the Franz Kingdom and the Kalmar United States initiated their delays.

And that aggravating, ferocious back-and-forth ultimately ended when the Sacred Empire’s strength was completely depleted, losing all combat capacity, leading the meeting to conclude quickly at the last moment.

‘From that perspective, I doubt this Westphalia Conference will drag on that much this time. Unlike the original, the war is currently at a stalemate.’

Of course, if a spark were ignited during this meeting, the potential for war to reignite always existed.

So, in that sense, this place was like a massive powder keg, but thankfully, I assessed the chances of an explosion to be relatively low.

I had a pretty good idea of what was on everyone’s mind.

And I had a decent grasp of the shared interests that could bring people together.

Although about 60% of that understanding relied on insights from the original work.

‘Short at least a few months, no more than half a year. Since those among us include ministers and officials, they wouldn’t want to drag things out too long…’

With those thoughts, I began to escape the marketplace-like scene and headed toward the Lord’s Castle, which was under stricter control.

From there, only select individuals I had previously arranged could enter, not just any delegate.

Thus, I left my ostensible servants and soldiers behind, bringing only my trusted comrades.

Cazerose, Polena, and my escort, the sisterly Vicer Andreas and Freddy, accompanied me.

After verification, the four of us started to enter the Lord’s Castle.

Then…

“Oho… My friend! Santana Andreas!”

“Ah… His Highness Friedrich.”

A familiar yet bright voice called unexpectedly.

I politely offered my greetings to Friedrich, the Lord of the Sacred Empire and the nominal representative of the Heretic Alliance, who I hadn’t seen in a while.

“Oh come on, let’s skip the formalities. We don’t need that pretense between us anymore, do we?”

Friedrich, showing a friendly demeanor with genuine delight, made me smile as I regarded this lovable yet somewhat dim, ‘friend.’

“Well then, you’ve got a point. I’ll speak comfortably like before. How have you been?”

“Ha, of course! Honestly, I had a few close calls, but thanks to you, I managed to get through them. I’ll never forget that.”

“I appreciate your kind words. Now let’s discuss in more detail inside.”

“Absolutely! I’ve got so much I want to talk about!”

With Friedrich radiating pure joy, my party and I moved toward the Lord’s Castle.

And alongside our meeting, my wife Cazerose and Friedrich’s wife, Elizaveta, began their somewhat awkward introduction.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Elizaveta Stuart.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you. Nice to meet you, Lady Cazerose Sophia Andreas.”

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