Felt flashed a toothy smile as she watched them get taken away and said, “They came yesterday saying their boss got mad at them and kicked them to the curb, so I let them stay here, but they changed their minds overnight and tried to run away. Pops found them trying to sneak out and really let them have it.”

“Hah. That sounds like something they’d do. Did you see this coming?”

“If they could be talked out of their stupidity, they wouldn’t be here, one way or another. But bringing dumbasses like that along is more fun, y’know?”

Felt enjoyed stubborn, low-down people just fine. After all, the environment she was brought up in was filled with people with one or two screws loose. They were a touch of the place Felt called home. She would never say people like that should be let go, no matter what.

“I dunno whether to call you forgiving or optimistic… Maybe it’s just your blood.”

Her hands clasped behind her head, Felt turned around. “Huh? Say something, old man?”

Rom simply gave a big shrug. “Nope, just hungry. C’mon, hop to it, missy.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.”

Under Rom’s coaxing, Felt walked through the mansion halls. Though she never asked to be brought there, Felt was starting to settle into her new life at the mansion. She had gotten so comfortable living here that there was a spring in her step on the way to a meal.

“Mooornin’.”

Her heart swelling with excitement over breakfast, Felt arrived in the dining hall with Rom in tow. They opened the large door to find an array of steaming dishes arranged on the table. Two people turned and bowed at the cheerful girl.

“Good morning, Lady Felt.”

“”

An elderly woman and man returned Felt’s greeting. They tended to the mansion as well as Reinhard and to Felt’s personal needs. Reinhard referred to them as a nanny and butler, but Felt simply called them Nana and Pops and got along well with them.

“”

Reinhard was already at the table, and seated on the same side with him were three young men with their eyes rolled back. They were easy to differentiate due to their small, medium, and large frames, especially when they were seated in order by size.

Felt sat across from Reinhard, with Rom sitting beside her that morning. Felt pulled out Rom’s chair before taking her own seat.

“All right, time to dig in,” she said.

“Certainly…but would you first explain the state of these gentlemen? I assumed you would be startled by the sight of them at the table.”

Felt sighed, picked her ear, and said, “Well, I saw Pops dragging them out of the garden earlier. Besides, I figured yesterday that this was gonna happen. Remember when we talked about it, Nana?”

Felt’s nanny leaned back in her chair and nodded. “Yes, Lady Felt, you did come to speak with me last night.” Then the woman who had aged so gracefully exchanged smiles with her husband and said, “I’m sure my husband was happy to be of service to you. He got up bright and early to drag his old bones into the garden to wait for those boys.”

“”

The old man silently shrugged at his wife’s testimony. He was a man of few words, so no one present considered his behavior disrespectful.

“But still.” The nanny shot a devilish grin at Felt. “I find this all very amusing. You were so desperate to run away all this time, Lady Felt, yet last night, you set up a trap to keep those boys from escaping.”

“Come on, Nana, don’t blow my spot.”

“Oh? Felt tried to escape? What’s this about?”

While Felt sat there with an embarrassed look on her face, Rom’s eyes sparkled with deep interest. Seeing this, Reinhard said, “Well…”

Then the redheaded young man looked around like he was scanning the entire grounds as he said, “Lady Felt and I made a promise. If she could escape this property while evading myself, the nanny and butler, and any of the other servants, we would simply let her go.”

“A challenge, eh? Makes sense. I can already picture her, fuming her stubborn little head over it. So that’s how ya slowly wore her down, day by day,” Rom said smugly.

Felt blushed and clutched her head in her hands. “D-don’t act all so high and mighty. You weren’t even there… Argh, this is why I didn’t want you to find out, old man!”

Everything began the day Reinhard caught her in the slums and confined her to that mansion. She made that deal with Reinhard just as he said, and every night, Felt plotted ways of escaping until her eyes were bloodshot.

It need not be said that each and every scheme ended in failure, resulting in Felt’s continued residency there—leading up to yesterday’s events.

Yesterday was a day of great significance to Felt—nay, to the entire Kingdom of Lugunica.

“Royal Selection, my foot… A bloody war for the throne is what it is. Thanks for getting me caught up in some crazy shit.”

“Technically, it’s not a war, it’s a sort of contest. You don’t fight, you compete.”

“I couldn’t care less. Don’t twist my words.” Felt sneered and glared at Reinhard, who was as calm and cool as ever. A mysterious illness had been sweeping the castle for the past few months, killing off the royal family one by one, until every last one of them had passed on.

As a result, the throne stood empty, and Lugunica was in incredibly dire straits. They needed to find a new ruler as soon as possible…and as some sort of sick joke, Felt had been declared one of the candidates.

That was the true reason Reinhard had confined Felt to this mansion—he had, without so much as a hint of malintent, pushed Felt into this impossible scenario.

Of course, there was no way anybody would be chosen as a potential monarch unconditionally, much less someone like Felt, a natural-born vagrant pickpocket from the slums. What sort of terrible mistake must have happened to put her in a position to fight for the throne? Doubting Reinhard’s sanity seemed much more reasonable.

However, when he learned of Felt’s unknown birth origins, he had loudly shared the most ridiculous theory ever to the big shots in Lugunica: Felt was the sole survivor of the royal family, kidnapped from them fourteen years ago.

To Felt, it sounded totally ridiculous, lacking even a shred of credibility. But everyone at the royal castle took the theory seriously and had begun to explore the possibility. Felt thought this reaction was equally ridiculous, and she mocked them for it…

“When you came into the picture, Old Man Rom…the chips sorta fell into place.”

Rom had snuck into the castle to rescue Felt, but he failed and wound up captured. So Felt had agreed to participate in the Royal Selection. Rom apologized profusely, but Felt had no regrets.

Felt had chosen this path for herself. And she admonished herself whenever she had any second thoughts. Life was a series of absurdities. Felt had seen countless irrational things happen without any rhyme or reason. And in such a crazy, unreasonable world, who was she to complain about her own choices after the fact?

She’d never do something so stupid. That was Felt’s answer—her philosophy on life.

“I’ll say it again, the only thing I hate is things that make no sense. In other words, you, Reinhard.”

“Harsh words, Lady Felt. Me? Irrational?”

“Don’t play dumb, jackass. And if you really are that blind, I won’t even waste my breath on you.”

“How exacting, my lady,” Reinhard murmured under the continued assault of Felt’s sharp tongue.

Dissatisfaction in Reinhard aside, Felt did not regret her decision. Of course, Rom was the catalyst, and Reinhard was the one who had brought her here.

But when Felt met the four candidates aside from herself—when she heard their speeches and the opinions of the most powerful people in the kingdom—she could not deny that a fire had been lit in her.

The exact details of what she was capable of remained unclear. But as long as that fire pushed her, Felt would keep going.

“Then again, that Royal Selection is all kinds of weird,” she said.

“I take it you have your doubts regarding the Royal Selection?” Reinhard asked.

“Well, yeah, anybody in my shoes would think it’s sketchy. I mean, setting aside the murky details of my birth, what qualifications made me get chosen as a candidate?”

Even an uneducated girl like Felt could imagine there was a mountain of prerequisites to become a ruler. Even though the entire royal family was wiped out, the importance of their bloodline would not disappear. Nominating a high-ranking noble related by blood to the royal family was the natural thing to do. But the other candidates chosen besides Felt, though they each had their own unique qualities, hardly met these conditions.

“We’ve got a merchant from some other nation, the most arrogant woman in the world…oh, and a half-elf chick. There’s one noblewoman among them, then there’s me. If this is supposed to be a joke, it’s an awful one.”

“And everybody is well aware of that,” Reinhard assured her. “However, every candidate, including yourself, was chosen by the insignias…by the will of the dragon protecting our kingdom.”

“So is this dragon just really into girls or what? Wonder why he chose a potato like me.”

Reinhard wasn’t sure how to respond. While he bumbled around, trying to answer, the nanny stepped in.

“Now, now, Lady Felt, how could you say such a thing?” Her eyebrows were scrunched downward, and she was unable to contain her silence any longer.

“Aw, Nana, mad I’m talking shit about the dragon?”

“No, my lady! I’m angry because you disparaged yourself. You aren’t a potato…you’re much too pretty! You’re breaking my heart, child.”

“What, you’re mad I’m bad-mouthing me…?”

This left Felt in a daze while Rom folded his thick arms and nodded beside her. Pops was nodding deeply, clearly also on Nana’s side, and now Felt suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

“Listen to me, Felt. I don’t think you look bad, either—”

“Conversation over! Nobody gives a rat’s ass how I look! That ain’t the issue here! Come on, back to the main topic! Let’s focus, Reinhard!”

“Me, my lady?”

Sensing the conversation was veering into embarrassing territory, Felt threw the reins of the conversation in Reinhard’s lap. Startled by her insistence, he took a quick breath and said, “Well, let’s see. I understand you have concerns regarding the Royal Selection, Lady Felt. I don’t understand the Divine Dragon’s preferences…but according to the ancient texts, this kingdom’s first encounter with the Divine Dragon—when the covenant was forged between it and the Kingdom of Lugunica—was performed by a female priestess who spoke with it.”

“You’re saying we have to hold new talks with the Divine Dragon, and the next priestess is gonna be chosen between five young women?” Rom asked. “That’s what it sounds like.”

“I’m not the only one who thinks so. It is the consensus of the whole kingdom.”

“Yeah, but that’s just the opinion of nobles, knights, and other important people, right?” Felt interjected. “I guarantee street rats like me and Old Man Rom haven’t heard of anything like that.”

As a representative of the lower rungs of society, it didn’t sit right with Felt that this whole idea was getting hand-waved as the will of the nation or something.

In response, a perplexed look appeared on Reinhard’s face. “Lady Felt, are you trying to say you are against the Royal Selection itself?”

“I’m just sayin’ a lot of things don’t add up. I’m not against it, but I’ve got a lot of complaints. I didn’t get to choose my knight. Can’t we do somethin’ about that?”

“As much as I would love to honor your wishes, Lady Felt, I’m afraid you cannot trust anyone else to serve as your personal knight. Pardon my frankness, but you did snap at the knights and powerful people at the Royal Selection, so I doubt you’ll find anyone willing to pledge his sword to you—”

“Yeah, I know. I was being sarcastic, dumbass. Guess I might as well settle for you.”

“Yes, please settle for me. My body, my sword, my entire being exists to serve you, Lady Felt.”

“Piss off, dude.”

Felt stuck her tongue out. Considering Reinhard’s fine reputation in the kingdom, the way Felt spoke to him would make anyone’s jaw drop. But everyone in that mansion, including Reinhard himself—not only did they not find any fault in her attitude, but they also actually approved.

“Well, you made this decision, Felt,” Rom said, when the conversation came to a lull. “I’m not gonna butt in and try to stop you now…though I can’t deny the sense that your crew’s looking a bit weak,” he murmured, scratching his bald head.

Felt’s faction would vie for the crown—with her at the head and her knight, Reinhard, by her side. Beneath them was Felt’s surrogate father, Rom, the elderly caretakers of House Astrea, and—

“What are we doing about this still-unconscious trio?” Rom asked.

“Hey, it’s a good feeling, having nothing,” Felt argued. “I’m actually starting to have a little fun.”

“‘Fun,’ my lady?”

Reinhard and Rom both looked astonished at the smirking Felt. Meeting their gazes, Felt said, “I mean, am I wrong?” Then she smiled and said, “Nobody expects a damn thing from us. Who doesn’t love when the underdog wins it all? That’s our strength.”

Felt bellowed grandiosely, pounding her flat chest with a fist. Her optimism was so unhinged, Rom and Reinhard were speechless. A loud clap of hands resumed the flow of time.

“Come now, let’s stop chatting and eat breakfast. An empty belly makes an empty mind—my husband often says so himself.”

Her husband’s eyes opened wide in silence at his wife’s declaration. And Felt burst out laughing. Then, after some neck cracking, Felt grabbed her fork and knife to dig in at last. (She had learned rudimentary table manners in her time at the mansion.)

“Lady Felt.”

“Mind my manners, right? C’mon, I already know.”

“Perfect. Thank you.”

The fact that even her meals required a lecture from Reinhard irked Felt beyond belief. Reinhard would probably nitpick every part of her daily life from now on, in the name of the Royal Selection. If so…

“Y’know, I think I might regret this…”

Felt’s bitterness was quickly buried in a lavish breakfast and a full belly.

4

After breakfast, Felt returned to her bedroom and kept an eye on the clock, picking the most strategic time to head out to the mansion garden. There, she found the trio, in a heap on the lawn once again.

“Guys, you missed breakfast and haven’t even had lunch yet—isn’t all that running away makin’ your head spin?”

Felt stood on the grass beside the trio, head cocked to the side in disbelief. They were in the exact same mess as they were earlier that morning, the only difference this time being that the butler hadn’t cleared them out, since they weren’t in the way of his garden work. (He likely had also decided that even if he left them be, they wouldn’t move.)

“Sh-shut up… You think we’re dumb…?”

It was the sharp-eyed man who snapped back at Felt as she looked down at them. Of the three men splayed on the lawn, he was of medium build and height and had the shrewdest look in his eyes. His name was…

“I don’t think you’re dumb, Lachins. If anything, I’m impressed. I only had one of me whenever I tried to escape, so I could never split up in three and make a go of it.”

Even if the trio had decent teamwork, the way they were so easily picked off one by one made their efforts a hopeless endeavor.

“Wh-what’s the deal with that old guy? I thought I had him, but he just suddenly disappeared from my grip.”

“I dunno, Gaston, from where I was standin’, it looked like ya leaped out onto nothin’ and biffed it.”

“C’mon, I’d never do something so idiotic…”

The giant Gaston and the compact Camberley quipped listlessly back and forth. They weren’t as hot-blooded as Lachins, but the three balanced each other out. (At any rate, Felt had a considerable amount in common with the men as they considered why their latest escape attempt had failed.)

“I totally get that,” she said sympathetically. “Pops got me real good a couple times. But don’t get the wrong idea. He’s the nicest person here. Nana’s and Reinhard’s asses are much tighter. Especially Reinhard—that guy’s the worst. It’s like he was born to break people’s spirits.”

“O-oh… Gotcha…”

Felt proceeded to rattle off a list of grievances. Her escape attempts numbered ten times as many as the hapless trio’s. Not a single one of them had been successful, and the stories served no purpose other than to vent, so she made no attempts to elaborate further.

“Hold on…” Lachins suddenly looked up at Felt, sat cross-legged on the grass, and said, “Aren’t you here to yell at us?”

“Huh? Why would I?”

“Why? Well…we tried to escape and all.”

Felt smirked at Lachins’s uncomfortably honest demeanor. “I figured it would happen. I never thought that short heart-to-heart yesterday would be enough to convince you.” Felt beheld each of the trio one by one and shrugged slightly.

Adding Lachins, Gaston, and Camberley to her camp—that was the first step in Felt making her decision.

On the way back from the castle, where the Royal Selection candidates and their platforms were presented, Felt’s party stopped by her old haunt—a storehouse of stolen goods. This was where she had first encountered the trio. They pulled knives on her, demanding money…not realizing they’d picked the wrong person to mess with that night.

Reinhard knocked them out with a single move. Under normal circumstances, the three would have been turned over to the guards on the spot. But Felt put a stop to that and offered a lifeline.

She didn’t have a compelling reason nor did she help them out of sympathy. Felt just thought it would be amusing to get them on her side and drag them along wherever she went. If she had to walk the path to the crown, she would rather have an interesting party along for the ride. So she brought them back to the mansion, explained her situation to them, and made them give their word that they would join her. However…

“Anybody’d change their mind once they had a night to cool down and think about it,” Felt said. “I’m from the slums, too, ya know? I can see right through the heart of any poor bastard who comes from there.”

“Wait a minute, is it me, or is she singing our praises right now?”

“It’s just you. So stupid…”

“Well, I admire your spirit, but you guys didn’t really think your escape plan through, right? I mean, it seemed like ya already had somebody on your tail yesterday.”

“Urk…!”

They botched a job and made their boss angry—that’s what Felt remembered them telling her. Meaning, even if they did escape Felt, they were still a loose end and would have to keep running. Their problem would fundamentally stay unresolved.

“Wh-what do we do now?” Camberley asked.

“I dunno, I kinda thought everything would just work out,” Lachins muttered back.

Apparently, there was no real plan.

Their lack of foresight was emblematic of slum dwellers. Though it could be argued that this trio was particularly imprudent…

“There isn’t much I can tell you guys,” Felt said. “All I’m gonna say is, staying here with me is way better than running around like rats in a maze. Besides, it’s not like I’m gonna force you guys to obey my every command or anything.”

After a pause, Gaston stared hard at Felt and muttered softly, “But if we stay…it’s nothin’ but bad news for you. If you really are from the slums like us, I don’t understand why you’d help us out for nothin’ in return.”

“You wanna know why I’m helping, huh…?” As Lachins and Camberley started staring as well, Felt scratched her head.

“Gaston’s right. Nobody would help us unless something was in it for them. Are we just supposed to trust you? You’re just gonna treat us like pawns.”

“Wait a minute. Lachins, didn’t you just say yesterday that you might take a chance and trust her?”

Gaston’s hand grabbed hold of the loose-lipped Camberley’s face, forcefully silencing him.

“Shut up, Camberley.”

The pair scuffled behind Lachins, and he glared at Felt even harder, demanding, “What’s your endgame? Be honest. You want us to do somethin’ for ya.”

“…I already laid out everything for you yesterday.” Felt winked under his scrutinizing stare.

The trio had grilled Felt with the same questions the day before, and she had given them the same answer. She hadn’t begged them to do anything special. She had just casually asked them to join her.

“There’s a lot of annoying shitheads in the world, right?” Felt said. “So I was just inviting you guys to join me in teachin’ ’em a lesson until they cry. I think I know why you guys have your reservations… It’s because you don’t know what roles you’ll play.”

Lachins’s expression changed quickly. Gaston and Camberley cast anxious glances at him. Felt suspected that Lachins made most of the decisions for the group. But Lachins was also the easiest to sway, and the other two helped keep him in check. And given their history with this dynamic, they were insecure.

Felt had asked them to join her on a whim, not because she absolutely needed them. Not to mention, they had spent their lives in the slums—the idea that they could make their own choices was foreign to them.

And that was because they knew better than anyone that they had nothing to be proud of.

“Don’t worry,” Felt assured them. “I don’t really know what I want you guys to do for me, either.”

“Huh?”

“Remember what I said? I was raised in the slums, and now I’m suddenly a candidate for the next ruler. If I was all fired up and had everything I wanted and needed to do all figured out, I’d be a freak. My knight’s the freak, not me.”

And though Reinhard’s abilities were freakish in nature, the other men were unreliable in a number of ways.

“So I’m not gonna demand you guys work your asses off right from the get-go, I swear.”

“O-okay…then what do ya want us to do?”

“Like I’ve been sayin’, we can talk and figure it out later. There’s a lot of shit to learn, which is definitely gonna be boring as hell…but right now, you’re nobody. Maybe this is your chance to change that.”

It almost looked like Felt’s fangs were showing as she gave a toothy smile, and the trio exchanged dazed looks.

Nobody. Felt considered herself one as well. That was why, as fellow nobodies who didn’t know what to do with themselves, they could bounce ideas off one another and figure it out somewhere along the way.

“……Y’know, I wouldn’t mind staying with you.”

Surprisingly, Camberley was the first to speak. Gaston lowered him onto the grass, and he walked up to Felt and made a fist.

“Thinking isn’t my strong suit. But it’s obvious to me which choice is the easiest. Even if we escape this mansion, we’d still be in deep shit. So might as well…” Camberley turned around and nodded at Lachins and Gaston. “We should think this through again. Even if we kiss Russel’s filthy feet and beg forgiveness, we’re still gonna be his goons for life, right?”

Gaston finally smirked awkwardly and said, “Damn, never thought I’d hear you talkin’ sense. Haven’t seen that since the day we found Lachins beat up in the alley like a bloody rag and took him in.”

“Oh, shut the hell up!” Lachins snapped back like a little dog. But from the tension drained from their bodies, it was clear they agreed with Camberley.

The scales had tipped. And it was obvious which way.

“…Just warning you, if things start going tits up, we’re scramming.”

“And we’re taking your money with us!”

“If there’s one thing we’re best at, it’s hauling ass!”

With a galvanizing taunt from each, the trio made their official decision to join Felt. Her cheeks softened into a smile. Then she folded her arms and said, “Just so you know, no matter how much I lower my guard, you guys are never gonna pull one over Pops and Nana.”

“W-we wouldn’t, I swear!”

“We weren’t even thinking about it!”

“Maybe just a little!”

The more they talked, the more their true colors showed.

Well…let’s just chalk up their simplemindedness as another charming trait of slum dwellers.

5

“Y’know, I’m actually surprised at how fired up you are about all this.”

“Old Man Rom?”

After her heartwarming moment with the trio in the garden, Felt went back to her room only to find Rom waiting at her door. His expression was soft despite his rough features.

“You saw that?” Felt muttered and scratched the tip of her nose. “Kinda too late for me to run away now. And if I’m doing this, then I’m in it to win it. You didn’t raise a loser, did ya, old man?”

“Well, yeah, I taught you to never stay down even when the world knocks you on your ass, and it turns out you’re more gifted at it than I first thought.”

“Heh! Don’t give me that prodigy crap. That’s not me.”

With a mischievous grin, Felt shook her head at Rom. The old man narrowed his eyes as a dubious expression appeared on his face.

Felt detected a vague loneliness there, and her smile faded. She spoke again, asking Rom a question she’d been meaning to for quite some time.

“So, hey…everything got so crazy yesterday, we didn’t really get to talk. But you— There’s, uh, something I wanted to ask you.”

“What’s wrong, child? This isn’t like you. You’re almost acting like a normal little girl.”

Felt’s mouth shot open to argue, then she said, “You’re right. I’ve been acting weird. Okay, no more beating around the bush.”

Felt took a deep breath in and out, then looked him right in the eye. Then the declaration she boldly made at the castle, she once again made to him.

“I’m gonna participate in the Royal Selection. Part of me hates letting Reinhard get his way, but I talked it over with Lachins, Gaston, and Camberley. Plus, I kinda mouthed off in front of a huge crowd saying I’d do it. But that’s not enough. I need more.”

“More, huh?”

“See, truth is, I made this decision for me. I’m not gonna force you to come along. But I’m scared, Old Man Rom… I’m scared I can’t make it on my own. So please…”

Rom held his silence.

“I need your help. You’re my only family… I want you with me.”

In Felt’s eyes, he was the only person she could trust unconditionally. The harsh slums were her home as long as she could remember. And Rom was with her through it all. He taught her how to survive, how to fight, how to live.

Even when she got old enough and moved out, it never felt like they grew apart or lost touch. Even now, she felt a strong, deep connection to him.

“……Child, where do you think you were born?”

Felt did not answer.

“Remember what the young Sword Saint said back at the castle? He says you might be the daughter of the highest house in the kingdom, and you were kidnapped as a baby. You had a family. What do you think—?”

“You’re my only family, Old Man Rom!”

Rom’s old, coarse voice was cut off by Felt’s cry. Rom stood frozen, his face tense. She peered up at him, bit her lip, and let everything out.

“Hell if I know where I was really born. Don’t care, either. My family is the man who’s been with me ever since I was a baby—and that’s you. I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about the people who aren’t there—who were never there for me.”

It was neither bluster nor bravado. That was simply what Felt believed in her heart of hearts. Wherever she was born, whoever’s blood flowed through her veins, whatever scandalous revelations shook those around her, to Felt, it was all meaningless.

What mattered most of all was the one who had stayed by her this whole time. And what Felt wanted now was to simply spend the rest of her days with him—that was that.

“…Shit. You really are out of character.”

Under Felt’s adoring gaze, Rom’s grim lips crinkled into a smile. The old man heaved a deep sigh, slowly rubbed his bald head, and said, “Up until just a little while ago, you never would’ve bothered to go out of your way to tell me all that. You would’ve pulled me into your mess and stuck your tongue out at me if I tried to say a word. I still haven’t forgotten how the storehouse with all the loot got blown up.”

“Urgh…well, it was my bad for falling for a scheme that was too good to be true.”

“Sure was. If you’d at least told me about it first, you wouldn’t’ve fallen for that bullshit story. Anyway…”

Felt hung her head shamefully, and Rom rested a large hand on it. Then, to Felt’s surprise, he got down on his knee and said, “Unless I’m nearby, my grandbaby is gonna only cause more trouble. So I can’t retire just yet.”

“Old Man Rom…!”

The words from Rom’s smiling lips shone a light on Felt’s face. Rom shook his head and chuckled at the selfish reaction that erased all the fears and anxieties that she’d been carrying seconds ago.

Embarrassed by her sudden change of emotion, Felt sensed her cheeks turn bright red as she slowly ducked away from Rom’s touch and said, “O-okay, that’s settled, then. Now I won’t have to randomly bump into your shriveled-up body on the street—it’s a win-win.”

“Heh, yeah, yeah, whatever. Either way, I wasn’t gonna leave ya and go back to the damn slums. I’m gonna make my granddaughter wait on me hand and foot and be the laziest old man there ever was.”

“Didn’t you just say you’re not retiring? I’m gonna work you to the bone for a while.”

Three years, at the very least—that was how long the Royal Selection would take. Rom nodded deeply to Felt’s forward-thinking request and said, “I know, I know.”

Seeing this brought Felt a wave of deep relief. While in all honesty, she didn’t think he would say no, she wasn’t sure of what to do if he did refuse. She would fight no matter what enemy came her way, but her hope was that Rom would always have her back.

“Oh, right, sorry to shove this on you outta nowhere, but Reinhard says we’re leaving the royal capital tomorrow. Going to his main family estate in the east, apparently.”

“That would be House of Astrea’s dominion.” Rom put a hand to his chin and murmured, “If you’re gonna compete in the Royal Selection, first you’ve gotta lock down your territory. Reinhard made the right call.”

Felt’s eyes widened. Rom had just repeated the exact words Reinhard had told her. It perplexed her that he already understood everything without needing an explanation.

“Old Man Rom…” She scratched her cheek. “Is it just me, or do you know more about this Royal Selection crap than I do?”

“Don’t be silly. Do you know how many times older I am than you? If you just use your head, it’s easy to figure out.”

“Really? But you seemed damn reliable just now. That’s why you’re my Rom.”

Felt’s primary reason for keeping Rom close was simply for peace of mind, but seeing how capable he was convinced her that he was a powerful addition to her faction.

“Anyway, we’re leaving the capital for a while. You ready for that?” Felt asked.

“The clothes on my back are all I’ve got. Now that the warehouse is gone, I’ve got nothin’ to my name but I’m ready for whatever comes next.”

“All right. We’re all set, then…… Just a guess, but did somebody else tell you about this already?”

“Only that we’re leaving the capital. That lad sure is loyal, isn’t he?” Rom teased.

“What a weirdo…”

Reinhard’s face popped into Felt’s mind. She realized he must have consulted Rom out of courtesy to her, but this only deepened her frown.

“You might not like him, but you won’t find a better knight in the whole kingdom. You’re gonna spend a lot of time with him for the next couple years… Better find a way to get along.”

“Hmm, I guess I could use you as a go-between and never talk to him face-to-face.”

“Do you have to hate him out in the open like that…?”

The main reason Felt found Reinhard disagreeable was because he had kept her from reuniting with Rom, triggering a hostility for him that burned hotter with each passing day.

Of course, that didn’t mean she didn’t have other reasons to hate him…

“Well, since you brought it up, Old Man Rom, I’ll think about it… I’m goin’ back to my room. What about you? Wanna hang with me for a while?”

Rather than stand in the hallway talking forever, Felt pointed to the door behind Rom’s back.

“I’ve got a pile of books that guy said I should read. It’d be a huge help if I had somebody to talk to about ’em.”

“Nah, I don’t wanna get in the way of your studies,” Rom replied. “I think I’ll go get some lessons from an expert on how to be a great assistant to an important little lady.”

“Ahh, you mean Nana and Pops. Yeah, since you got no friends, you should make nice with them. Pops doesn’t really talk, so you can chat with Nana.”

And with that, Felt parted ways with Rom and went into her room. On her desk was a pile of books Reinhard had chosen that would instruct her on what she needed to learn to “be a proper statesman.”

“That weirdo doesn’t pull his punches does he…?”

With a beleaguered sigh at the books, Felt cracked her neck and walked to her desk, convincing herself as she sat down that since she had already decided not to run away, this was another crucial step in her new life.

6

Rom sighed heavily as he watched Felt disappear into her room. Unbeknownst to him, this was the precise moment Felt sighed at the pile of books on her desk, but since there was a door between them, neither knew it.

What’s more, the emotions imbued in their respective sighs were dramatically different. Felt’s was a resigned sigh to hit the books, and Rom’s was a deep sigh of regret and uncertainty.

“It would seem Lady Felt reveres you deeply.”

Just as he left Felt’s room and was starting to ponder what lay ahead of him, someone called out to him. He turned at the sound of the voice to see a silhouette quietly walking toward him from the end of the hallway. She was an elderly lady with a straight back and white hair—Nana, the woman who had earned Felt’s trust and respect.

She had a warm demeanor and an endlessly nurturing kindness about her, but as she walked toward Rom then, she set her peaceful persona aside and donned the gravitas of a lone swordswoman. She wasn’t holding a weapon in her hand, but her gaze was sharp enough to skewer Rom full of holes.

“You’re too kind,” he replied in a passive-aggressive tone. “Am I missing something? I don’t think I forgot to thank you for breakfast.”

“Aren’t you the smooth talker? Did you use that silver tongue of yours to win Lady Felt’s trust? If so, I suppose that despicable character of yours hasn’t changed.”

“Those’re some spicy words. You speak as if you know me, my dear, but have we met? I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about…”

When Rom tilted his head at her in confusion, her eyes narrowed to slits. Her already lethal gaze was growing sharper by the moment, like a naked blade she couldn’t hide. She was on the precipice of surrendering to the urge to fight.

Deeming her an unexpectedly short-tempered opponent, Rom took a step backward. But the moment his foot hit the floor, he noticed another person standing right behind him. It was a person with eyes even sharper than the elderly woman’s—

“”

“So you’re as sneaky as you are silent, eh? What disturbing staff this mansion has. As if that young knight wasn’t strong enough to guard this place.”

“Don’t mock the young master—consider that your last warning.”

Behind him stood the silent gardener. Before him, the old woman with swords for eyes. Rom stood trapped between them, his cheeks stiffening ever so slightly as he watched for their next move.

One wrong move and the gardener could hurt him more than the old woman could.

“You seem awful angry, my dear,” Rom told the old woman. “Is all that niceness just an act?”

“…Don’t you…make my wife…angry,” the old man rebuked Rom in a deep, raspy voice. From the sound of his voice, Rom determined it wasn’t the case that the gardener didn’t talk—he couldn’t talk.

When thinking of the nonspeaking servant of the Astrea family, an old memory suddenly resurfaced in Rom’s mind.

Rom and House of Astrea had a long-standing relationship. And during those years—

“Hah. I thought we’d met somewhere before…so that’s how we know each other.”

When Rom’s murmur escaped his mouth, the old woman’s expression grew even harsher. Rom was right—the wife was the more emotional of the two.

“You’re just as fiery as ya ever were, Carol Fauzen.”

Her eyes shot open. “How do you know my name…?”

“Anyone who was there, especially anyone from the kingdom, is still in here.”

As Rom tapped his bald head with his finger, the old woman stopped breathing. Noting her reaction, Rom turned his gaze out the window toward the garden.

“I’ll bet ya caught that bumbling trio this morning mostly as a freebie. Which means the reason you were up all night on guard was for me.”

“And we have a painfully long list of reasons why that would be necessary,” the old woman snapped back.

“Well, it did seem like that young knight knew who I really was. That damn Sword Devil…you sure built yourself a rotten family, just like I thought you would. Curse of a man.”

Rubbing his bald head with his hand, bitter wrinkles filled Rom’s face. It was an expression he had never let Felt see—at least not when she would be old enough to remember it.

Ever since the stolen goods storehouse was destroyed, every little thing in Rom’s life seemed to go wrong. And now the part of his past he wished he could forget was back in his face, along with all the other trash he wished he could dispose of forever—that’s what it felt like.

The turning point that found Felt, his connection with House of Astrea, his ties with this couple—all of it.

“The past is past. And war is war. I’ve got nothing to say, after how it ended.”

“Are you really in any place to speak on that? Who would possibly believe you?”

“I’m Old Man Rom. I’m just a small-time crook who made a little living for myself in the slums trading stolen goods. Nothin’ more, nothin’ less. The girl…Felt…I never planned to trick or take advantage of her.”

The old man slowly shook his head. If he closed his eyes, memories with the little girl revisited him. He had watched over her ever since she was small enough to fit in the palm of his hand.

Everything in his past—all the hatred, the vindictiveness—everything had been washed away by that little girl.

When she saw the look in Rom’s eyes, the old woman hesitated to say anything further.

“Can you…swear it?”

It was instead the sharp-eyed man with the hoarse voice who asked the question.

And for an instant, Rom caught a glimpse of the soldier with a shield standing beside the Sword Devil.

“Can I swear it…? You seem to be misunderstanding something, old man.”

“”

“I gave my word long ago,” Rom said. “That little girl saved my life.”

Saying this, Rom turned to face the old man and walked over. When Rom reached his side, the gardener did not stop him. And the old woman did not charge at him with the sword she hid behind her back.

And even if she had done that, Rom would blame neither of them. His dark past would have made it more than justified.

But if he were given a deferment on his punishment, he would devote his life to this cause.

The man who once failed both enemy and comrade alike would devote his life to his granddaughter.

And when he turned the corner of the hallway, this gritty resolve of Old Man Rom became an unshakable vow.

7

“Gross…”

As Felt turned the corner of the hallway in the middle of the night, her face suddenly twisted in disgust. There was only one person in the mansion who ever received this reaction from her. And that one person smiled sheepishly at the sight of it.

“Lady Felt, I really don’t think ‘gross’ is an appropriate way to greet a person.”

Her lips twisting into a hard frown over his rebuke, Felt retorted, “Well, ‘appropriate’ can kick rocks. Why’re ya here? I thought ya went out.”

When Felt went to dinner after an afternoon spent poring over the pile of study materials in her room, Reinhard was absent from the table. According to her nanny, he would be back late.

“I’m terribly sorry I couldn’t accompany you for dinner,” he apologized. “I needed to inform the castle of our itinerary tomorrow, and I also had a personal matter to attend to. Was there some problem?”

“Only that the three idiots finally pulled it together and ate like mad.”

The sheer amount the trio ate once they decided to stay was quite the spectacle. Felt was secretly worried her nanny would be upset by it, but she seemed pleased that the young men enjoyed her cooking, so it was a relief to Felt to see her in high spirits from start to finish.

That being said—

“Did ya just get back? There might be some dinner left. Gotta ask Nana about that.”

“Thank you for your thoughtfulness. Lady Felt…did you just take a bath?” Reinhard’s eyes narrowed and scrutinized Felt’s damp hair and flushed cheeks. Felt touched her smooth, freshly cleaned face and answered that she had.

“I mean, this’s my last night with this bath for a while. Plus, I was extra tired from all that brutal studying I had to do—I’m gonna miss that bath.”

“I see. Oh right, please don’t forget to dry your hair before you retire to bed. If you sleep with wet hair, it will become frizzy. I would hate for your beautiful hair to be damaged.”

“Well, thanks for the unsolicited advice.”

As Felt stuck out a sarcastic tongue, the sheepishness in Reinhard’s smile deepened. He walked on past her, with a respectful nod, to head to his bedroom. Felt turned around and gave his back a dubious stare. Something about him was off.

“Hey. Reinhard. Just a stab in the dark, but are you upset about somethin’?”

Reinhard’s eyes widened slightly when Felt called out to him. And Felt was taken aback by the obvious surprise in his reaction. It wasn’t unusual for Reinhard to act sentimental or surprised. But each and every expression his face made always held a base level of confidence and control.

That composure was the main reason Felt disliked Reinhard. He gave the impression that he stood on a completely different level than her, the gap between them impossible to traverse.

But from the look on his face then, it felt like the wall separating them had been taken away. This was probably because in a very real sense, he never would’ve expected Felt to ask him that question.

“What makes you ask that, my lady?”

“Huh? Ah, well, it’s not a big deal, really. It’s just, whenever you go somewhere and come back, ya always talk my ear off about it even though I couldn’t care less. But this time, you haven’t said anything, and then you tried to slink away without sayin’ anything.”

“……Well, I’m surprised. I always assumed you disliked me, Lady Felt.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure I don’t if I were you—but pickin’ up on your mood and askin’ about it doesn’t change that. I’ve spent the past two months losin’ sleep trying to outsmart your ass. If anything, I’m an expert on you now, from all that spyin’ to find out your weaknesses.”

Not wanting Reinhard to be under any strange misapprehensions about her, Felt boldly denied that she cared.

And Reinhard surprised her by simply answering, “Understood, my lady,” with a faint smile on his face. Then he said, “Lady Felt, do you have any plans this very minute?”

“……Mm’nope. Just gonna go to bed early since we gotta be up early tomorrow.”

“Might we have a little chat in my room? There’s something I want to ask you.”

“Did you not hear me?”

She complained when Reinhard made his request anyway, but he did not respond. Instead, he walked to the door of his room expectantly.

Felt stood in silence. She knew she could just say no and go to her own room. If anything, that would be most in character for her, as far as Reinhard was concerned. But Felt remembered the advice Rom had given her earlier that day. She was going to be spending a lot more time with Reinhard. She might as well make it pleasant.

“…Fine, you win.”

Shrugging with her warm-from-the-bath shoulders, Felt followed Reinhard. His room was at the end of the hallway, on the opposite end of the mansion from Felt’s.

“This way, my lady.”

“Heeeh.”

Felt slipped through the door Reinheld held open for her and entered his room for the first time.

She glanced around, and the utterly uninteresting room stared back at her. It was arranged the same as her own room, with the furniture placement more or less the same. His bed was the same shape and design as hers, too, and an old writing desk sat in the corner. The bookshelf beside it was filled with books that seemed incredibly difficult and boring, and the walls were adorned with mundane art. Cleanliness and order permeated the air—it was the room of a quintessential overachiever.

“I don’t believe there’s anything unusual about my room…”

“No shit. It’s boring as hell.”

“Harsh words, my lady.”

Reinhard’s usual confidence and composure had returned as he smiled awkwardly. Not that Felt minded, exactly, though she was unamused that he had rebuilt his walls just after she answered his call. So Felt’s eyes wandered away from him and stopped on a certain spot on the wall. That was the only thing that hinted that this was not simply an overachiever’s room.

It was a single sword hanging on the wall. It was a smaller sword—adorned but in a way that did not seem pragmatic. The first impression Felt got from it was that it was rather expensive.

“What’s that? It’s nothing like the sword you usually carry.”

“Ah yes, indeed. Unlike my Dragon Sword, that is just an ordinary, uninscribed sword.”

As he said this, Reinhard caressed the white sheath that held his sword at his hip. Tales were told in dramatic whispers at night that this sword he carried every day had once slashed a witch. Compared to that, many a famous sword would pale in comparison—

“When I was still a little boy…my father gave me that sword.”

“Huh.”

Reinhard’s words sank into Felt as she stared hard at the well-maintained sword. She had met Reinhard’s father the day before at the castle, very briefly. He was not at the Royal Selection, but he did pop into the waiting room beforehand.

He was not exactly a pleasant person. Frankly, he seemed like a rather scummy man. Because of this, when Felt saw how much care Reinhard put into displaying a present from that man, she felt it wasn’t her place to say anything, good or bad.

“Y’know, you’re crazy, readin’ all these impossible books.”

Changing the subject by pulling a few books from the shelf, Felt plopped onto the bed without being invited to do so and flipped through the pages. Every book was either historical or academic. Reinhard pressed a hand to his forehead as he watched her.

“Your behavior is unbecoming of a lady, Lady Felt.”

“C’mon, even the ladiest of ladies doesn’t put on airs after she’s had a bath in her own home.”

“Now, that isn’t true. I hope you’ll be more considerate of this in the future.”

“You got any proof? Is that sorta thing in any of these hoity-toity books? Yeah, I don’t trust your collection.”

As Felt sat herself up (upsetting the bedding in the process), Reinhard’s lips pinched shut. Though the exact source of his discomfort—either Felt’s accusation of his lack of proof or her lack of faith in his books—remained a mystery.

“Judging by their covers, all your books are the same boring crap. You’ve got the money, so you should get some better books. Don’t ya know how to have any fun?”

“Books exist for the acquisition of knowledge. Isn’t that why you learned to read and write—?”

“I learned ’cause Old Man Rom kept hounding me about how important it was. And it was true; being able to read billboards and letters turned out to be a great investment. I could go over the details of a job and avoid getting swindled, and I also learned my numbers and sums. But I only learned what I’d need to survive.”

“”

“I doubt you were strugglin’ every day just to eat. So your way of thinkin’ just makes my skin itch. You’re right—but that’s all you are. All these books on your shelf, and I’m sure you never jumped for joy when you got any of ’em.”

Reinhard fell silent. He didn’t argue, either because he couldn’t find the words or because his mind was a cesspool of abusive words he could hurl at Felt. She would prefer the latter. He had every right to be fuming with anger at the little brat who mocked him incessantly.

If only Reinhard would express himself with the colors that were conspicuously missing from this dull, lifeless room…

“……I’m finding it difficult to form a reply. But I shall give you one later.”

“…Will you, now? Well, okay then.”

If he wasn’t going to gloss over her taunts with some polite niceties, Felt considered that a win. She sat cross-legged on the bed, and Reinhard pulled a chair out from his desk and sat facing her.

“So? You said you wanted to talk?”

“First, I have news. I received an official letter of appointment at the castle today. For the three years leading up to the Royal Selection, I shall be transferred from my position in the royal guard to become your personal knight and bodyguard. What happens after that depends on how the Royal Selection goes, but I hope you and I can have a good relationship. Though I am unworthy in your—”

“For the last time, cut the formal bullshit. And I already knew all that. After that duel, my ears were bleeding with the news.”

Ordinarily, Reinhard’s place was in the royal guard. In principle, he would never be allowed to leave. But as he became the personal knight of one of the candidates in the Royal Selection, he was given a three-year leave of absence as a special exception—in other words, he was recognized as an independent knight.

When it came to the minor details that his new assignment entailed, Felt shut him down, having no interest in it whatsoever. A faint shadow fell on Reinhard’s expression at her response. Felt thought back to all the moments his expression changed like this—conversations about the castle, the Royal Selection, and the events of the day prior…

“Just a stab in the dark…but does your bad mood have somethin’ to do with that fight yesterday?”

“I would be hard-pressed to say no. Or rather…yes, there is a connection.”

Reinhard considered denying it, but he quickly resigned himself to simply telling the truth.

The fight of which Felt spoke was a disagreement that broke out behind the scenes when the candidates in the Royal Selection announced their platforms. Briefly put, the knights of two other candidates butted heads, but the particulars of what led to the clash and the positions of the two involved was much more complicated.

Particularly the knight who was beaten handily—he was no stranger to Felt.

“You know both of those guys, don’t you? I only know the weak guy, though.”

“Julius took full responsibility for the commotion, and the captain of the knights has confined him to house arrest. Luckily, he emerged from the fight unscathed…but I do believe he deeply regrets his dishonorable behavior.”

“Hmm.”

The renowned knight was, at a glance, the knightliest a knight could be.

While the title of “a knight among knights” technically belonged to Reinhard, in Felt’s eyes, Julius seemed to fit the description better. It was probably a matter of speech and of how he carried himself—Felt could find little fault in him.

However, when Reinhard said he believed Julius deeply regretted his dishonorable behavior, Felt had a difficult time agreeing with him. She didn’t think that knight regretted his actions in the slightest.

“And regarding your friend Subaru, he is presently staying with the Duchess Crusch Karsten at her house. The reason of his visit remains unknown, however.”

“Setting aside whether that guy is actually a friend or not, how did all this even happen? He fought that knight to protect that half-elf chick, right?”

Of course, it could be argued that he fought the knight because of his self-serving belief that he was protecting her.

That being said, while he had found himself in a rather strange position, to Felt, Subaru was like a savior. It was an undeniable fact that the Bowel Hunter would have slain her if not for him.

Yet despite their personal relationship, the thing stopping her from fully defending him was that fight at the training ground.

And just as Felt’s mind reached this thought, an unpleasant idea struck her.

“Please don’t tell me you went to comfort that guy?”

“That’s exactly what I did. I believed he was in torment, both physically and spiritually…”

“Yikes, so you did comfort him! C’mon, even you should know that would only twist the knife harder…”

When Reinhard gave her an oblivious look, Felt sympathized with Subaru for the first time. That explained the disheartened look on Reinhard’s face when he returned home.

“Even I’ve gotta sympathize with Subaru on this one… He turned you away at the door, right?”

“It was not quite that extreme, no. However, our good-byes were anything but pleasant. And when I think of how I might not see him for a while, I feel disappointed.”

Seeing Reinhard sulk caught Felt off guard yet again. Why did her knight look like a completely different person when he worried about his shaky friendship?

“So you’re sad because you left on a bad note with a friend? Guess you’ve got human qualities after all. So wait, do you and that guy go back a ways?”

“No, I met Subaru the same day I met you, Lady Felt. And yesterday at the Royal Selection was the first time I had seen him since.”

“What?! Wait a minute, you guys barely have a history at all!”

“A relationship needn’t be long to foster feelings of respect. Subaru has what I lack, and I most certainly respect that. There is nothing unusual about seeking a friendship with someone whom you like.”

“Y’know, this all sounds sarcastic, coming from you. Don’t you think that maybe Subaru got that impression, too?”

Felt muttered tiredly under her breath. Reinhard had a talent for delivering the most cliché lines with a straight face. And as for Subaru’s reaction…Reinhard’s tense expression was all she needed to know how that went.

Felt understood exactly why Subaru reacted the way he did. She really could see no other way.

“So you didn’t get closure. That’s why you’re upset… So what’cha gonna do now?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t really care if we show up late at your family home. And if you’re gonna suck at your job if you don’t patch things up with Subaru—I mean, I’m just sayin’…”

It wasn’t quite empathy, but even Felt had a basic compassion for her fellow man. And the fact was, Reinhard was so shaken up that his emotions were showing. And if that compromised his work performance, that would be a problem for Felt as well as for him.

But Reinhard shook his head at Felt’s offer. “Er, thank you for your consideration, my lady. But I’m all right. This is a personal matter—I don’t want to delay the crucial first step of your journey.”

“And I’m sayin’ that crucial first step is hard to take right now!”

“Besides, just having you lend an ear has already lifted my spirits a little.”

Felt was at a loss for words. Here she was, trying to get through Reinhard’s skull that he didn’t get it, but he just smiled softly.

—And she sensed that as the walls crumbled away a little, she could glimpse a hint of his true smile.

“Well, fine. Suit yourself!” With that, Felt twisted her back and jumped off the bed. Then, as Reinhard looked up at her from his chair, she stood up very tall and said, “We’re done here, right? Not a bad way to kill some time before bed. And I found out that my esteemed knight is even more of a clunker than I thought.”

“‘Clunker’…? Now that’s a word I’ve never heard used to describe me.”

“Oh? Then lemme make up for all that lost time. Clunker, clunker, clunker!”

Immediately following that wave of insults, Felt let out a yawn. Reinhard stood with a quiet chuckle and opened the door for her. And since it felt like he was going to accompany her all the way to her room, she turned around, stuck a finger in front of his nose, and said, “Don’t follow me. I’m goin’ to bed. You need to hit the sack and forget everything, too.”

“But forgetting would not be very upright…”

“There’s no point in bringing yesterday’s baggage into the next day. Next time you see him, say you’re sorry. Until that day comes, you can just read all the books on how to apologize or whatever.”

Shoving a book against the wide-eyed Reinhard’s chest, Felt pushed her startled knight back into his room. Then she turned around, beating a silent retreat—

“Lady Felt.”

Suppressing every urge to curse at him, Felt stopped in her tracks. “…What?”

“Thank you very much. I would be honored if the two of us could chat again like this sometime.”

“You dumba—!”

Reinhard had just invited Felt to visit him in his room at night again, with a perfectly innocent face. And in frustration over his obliviousness (and in her own personal embarrassment), she stuck her tongue out.

“As if, dumbass!”

And with that, Felt plodded roughly back to her room.

Though all the warmth from her bath had long since cooled, a faint fire remained burning on her cheeks.

8

The next day, Felt woke for the last time in the royal capital. With Reinhard by her side, she finished packing to leave for his ancestral home in the dominion of House of Astrea.

“Lady Felt, do be mindful of your health.”

“Nana, Pops, thanks for everythin’. And you guys be mindful of your health, okay?”

She was saying her good-byes to the elderly pair who had cared for her the past two months. As the teary-eyed nanny and silent butler watched her go, Felt shoved her own tears back inside.

“I have granddaughters at the main house. I’ve told them by letter to serve you well, Lady Felt, so do give those little girls a lot of love.”

“You guys have granddaughters? Well, I can’t wait to meet them… Thanks, guys.”

This elderly couple was a big part of why the past two months of Felt’s confinement—a confinement that began in an unexpected way—was more than just a bad memory. So her gratitude was sincere.

And she hoped to see them again someday, too.

“Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap, what even is this carriage?! I already knew aristocrats were rich, but damn!”

“Nothin’ to lose your shit over, man! Now c’mere—let me make sure I’m not dreamin’.”

“I’ve got ya, buddy! Graaah! Ooow! You pinched me! My cheek feels like it’s on fire!”

The trio of idiots and their foolish antics was sure to be a good source of entertainment on the road. A world of challenges would await those three comedians at the Astrea estate…but that was a story for another time.

“Y’know, I still can’t get used to you dressin’ like that, child,” Rom said.

“Well, I can’t help it. I don’t wanna dress like this, but somebody might see me ridin’ in this carriage. And when Nana offers to help, there’s no way I can say no.”

“Well, yeah…I guess you can’t just keep wearing those old rags I sewed up… Ya look good.”

“……Meh.”

Felt blushed and turned her back on Rom when he praised her. She had many things to worry about, but Rom’s presence made her feel safe. This moment made her realize that even more.

And then Reinhard said—

“When we arrive at the estate, I’m afraid there will be many things you may find difficult, Lady Felt. Now, I cannot say this loudly, but Astrea’s family lands are—”

“Bother me with the serious stuff later, will ya? That pathetic story you told me last night was much more fun.”

“You would rather…I tell you about my blunders?”

As Reinhard stared at her in surprise, Felt leaned back in her carriage seat. Though she was wearing a fine dress, the crude smirk on her face revealed all too well that the girl inside remained exactly the same at her core.

“You’ve gotta find your fun, too,” she told Reinhard. “If you’re my knight, you’ve gotta. I’m not gonna do all the work for ya. You’re a knight among knights—it’s your job, right?”

As Felt grinned, Reinhard fell silent for a few beats. Then, as he slowly ruminated on Felt’s words, he nodded.

“Understood—I shall try. You have my word as a knight.”

“This guy’s hopeless…”

As Felt rolled her eyes and sought support, Rom and the idiot trio rolled their eyes and sighed in turn. As she pondered over their reactions in surprise, Felt gazed quietly out the window.

The carriage slowly rode along the paved road, outside the royal capital—taking Felt away from the place where she was born and raised, where an indescribable something was about to fundamentally change.

The knight among knights and the royal candidate completely lacking in self-awareness. And with an old man with a dark past and a trio of punks in tow, the carriage proceeded to the east.

Thus, the setting of their tale was thrust outside the capital’s walls. Their path would diverge with the one at the center of a great change that would shake the kingdom days later—but that’s the tale of a different boy.

Felt and her party had their own unique story to tell.

THE GOLDEN LION AND THE SWORD SAINT, STARTING THE ROYAL SELECTION FROM ZERO

Original Publication: Monthly Comic Alive, Vol. 132, 133

1

Ca-clunk, ca-clunk went the carriage as it shook and raced along the road.

Ordinarily, dragon carriages did not jostle on the road. This was because the land dragons pulling them possessed the wind repel blessing. However, blessings were not all-powerful. Even the wind repel blessing lost effect when a land dragon stopped running, and its effects did not return again until an amount of time had passed. Because of this, the carriage shaking was proof that the blessing was askew.

And as for why the blessing was askew—

“Ahh, Young Master! You have returned!”

“Ooh, it has been far too long, Young Master! I am s-so happy to see you—eek!”

“Lord Reinhard! You must watch me practice my sword sometime. Promise me!”

—it was because with every adoring shriek, the carriage would stop, and an occupant would lean out the window to converse with his adoring fans. The occupant in question waved to the people outside, exchanged kind words, and flashed a dazzling smile.

As news of this spread quickly, more and more people gathered to greet the dragon carriage. With this many stops, it was inevitable that the land dragon’s blessing didn’t have enough time to reactivate. Because of this, shaking and wind had become close friends with the dragon carriage ever since it entered the Astrea dominion.

“I am so sorry for all the starting and stopping, my lady.”

As a chorus of adoring sighs rose behind them, the dragon resumed moving at a canter. As the carriage shook slightly, the redheaded young man lowered himself into his seat again and bowed apologetically to the person across from him.

His face was astoundingly handsome. With his flaming red hair and his eyes as blue as the sky, his charming smile could bewitch anyone, regardless of their gender. And his voice was so soft and sweet that it tickled the heart of anyone who heard it.

Reinhard van Astrea was the young man’s name. Naturally, the girl he just apologized to blushed red with—

“If you’re really sorry, then let’s see some remorse in those damn eyes!”

Blushing red with anger, the girl in the dress yelled rudely at Reinhard.

Like Reinhard, the girl was also extraordinarily beautiful. Her sparkling golden hair was tied back with a black ribbon, and her brilliant eyes were a fiery red like the sun. Adorning her face was her trademark smirk, and she wore a yellow dress on her still young frame.

Her name was Felt, and she was the only other person in the dragon carriage besides Reinhard. But the atmosphere in the intimate carriage could not be any less romantic. And this was only natural. Before they were man and woman, they were master and servant…though the former’s criticisms of the latter was more savage than necessary.

And as they sat in the tense carriage, Reinhard gave Felt a perplexed look and said, “Lady Felt, these are the people of House Astrea’s domain. They are a rock’s throw away from the mansion, so we must maintain good relations with them. Besides…”

“Besides what?”

“Tilmi is the most trusted village gossip, and Jonas wishes to join the royal guard in the future. Also, Lowell’s bread is divine. They are all very good people.”

“……Well, you could’ve mentioned that sooner.”

Spreading her legs wide enough to put her dress in a tragic state, Felt propped her chin on her elbow and muttered under her breath. Hearing this, Reinhard raised a curious eyebrow.

“Lady Felt, should I take it that you aren’t angry with me?”

“If there’s one thing you do that makes me angry, it’s that nasty habit of yours where you lead with all the annoying crap and save the good things for later. And I know the people outside weren’t exactly doing anything wrong.”

“Yes, but you seemed quite restless, so I was concerned that there was a problem—”

“Aw, shaddap—it’s ’cause I gotta piss! I’m almost bursting here! This damn dress! It’s a pain in the ass to take a piss in it! If I wet this dress, who’s gonna say sorry, huh? You?”

“Well, I…I think you’ve still got a big problem regardless of whether I’m sorry.”

“Like I care! If you don’t like it, go faster!”

Felt flailed with her legs, trying to kick Reinhard. He dodged her without rising from his seat, smiled, and said, “As you wish.”

Then he looked out the window, running his eyes along the dragon carriage’s path, and said, “Fear not, Lady Felt. Your wish shall be granted sooner than you think.”

With an unceremonious snort at his dignified tone, Felt looked out the window from beside him. And the view that expanded before her was an iron gate at the end of a gentle upward slope. The gate was wide open and sported a slight patina of rust.

Zipping through the gate that had relinquished its only task, the dragon carriage entered the property, bringing the mansion into view—

“Huh. So this’s your family home.”

Reinhard smiled and nodded. “Yes, this is the main Astrea family estate, the place where I was born. And this will be your place of residence for a while, Lady Felt.”

As Felt listened to him, her crimson eyes stared straight ahead, taking in the mansion in its entirety. Though she grew up in the slums, Felt was a bona fide capital girl. She was accustomed to seeing the houses of the nobility, and she had even been confined to one for the past two months. So when taking all those mansions and the home of the so-called Sword Saint Reinhard into account, she had imagined the main estate of the Astrea family would be a blinding monument to opulence—

“……It’s kinda smaller than I imagined.”

Felt’s honest first impression spilled out. Compared to their villa in the royal capital, House Astrea’s main mansion was quaint. Of course, it was still large enough to qualify as a mansion, but it exuded a frugality that was impossible to find in the aristocratic neighborhoods of the capital.

Echoing the impression of the rusty iron gate, the house itself showed the ravages of time, and the spacious gardens had been allowed to grow wild, making it clear they were completely unmanaged.

Felt had worried that upon her arrival, she might be surrounded by a horde of servants, but what she saw now raised totally different worries.

“This might surprise you, but this is how our family home always looks,” Reinhard told her.

“Wait a minute…are you one of those broke nobles?”

“Please don’t look at me with such pity in your eyes.”

Reinhard smiled uncomfortably at the solemn tone in Felt’s voice and eyes.

“I can understand why you would misinterpret, but sympathy is a little premature. Now, it’s true that our home is not as lavish as many noble residences in the royal capital. Our domain is also not all that large.”

“Huh…gotcha… Well, chin up, kid. Gotta live strong,” Felt said, giving him a thumbs-up.

“Uh, thank you?”

With a confused tilt of the head, Reinhard accepted Felt’s condolences.

All things aside, the two arrived safely at the Astrea family’s main home. Reinhard stepped out of the carriage first, then turned around and softly offered Felt his hand. “Lady Felt, your hand.”

“Kiss my ass.”

Pushing aside his gesture of chivalry, Felt nimbly jumped out of the carriage and landed beside Reinhard. As she stuck her tongue out at him, Reinhard withdrew his hand, and with a sheepish smile, he looked back at the mansion.

Returning to the Astrea family mansion was like a long-awaited homecoming for Reinhard. Suspecting he might have a thing or two on his mind, Felt snuck a glance at his face…

“I don’t see the trio anywhere. They should have arrived before us…,” he remarked.

“Eh? Oh, you mean Lachins, Gaston, and Camberley? You’re right. Where’d they run off to?”

Prompted by Reinhard’s remark, Felt quickly scanned the property. The three street toughs, frustrated by the slow progress of the dragon carriage once they entered Astrea lands, had jumped off and run on ahead.

She had been happy to let the trio go on the condition that they would alert the mansion staff of their arrival.

“They might already be inside,” Reinhard proposed. “It concerns me that nobody’s come out to greet us, but I can show you around, Lady Felt. Rest assured, our staff is small in number but very accomplished.”

“Nana did say her granddaughters work here. If they’re anythin’ like their grandparents, they’ll be solid.”

Felt’s mind wandered to the elderly couple who took care of her back at the Astrea family home in the capital. They were kind and gentle, and Felt liked them very much. And when they had parted ways, Nana had told Felt about her granddaughters.

“I’ve been lookin’ forward to seein’ what they’re like. Especially since Nana and Pops treated me so well—”

“GEE-YAAAGH!!!”

Just then, the mansion’s front doors were flung wide open, and a scream reverberated through the garden. Reinhard swiftly shielded Felt with his body. And as the pair stood on guard, a man—nay, men—tumbled out of the house with a bloodcurdling scream.

There was a big fellow, a medium fellow, and small fellow. Each of them exuded the vulgar aura of street hoodlums—which was exactly what they were.

It was Gaston, Lachins, and Camberley, their would-be advance party. As they continued tumbling into the garden, battered and bruised, they screamed and wailed like toddlers over how much pain they were in.

Reinhard’s eyes shot open in shock as he hurried over to them. “Gaston, Lachins, Camberley, what is the meaning of this?”

“Y-you tell me, asshole!”

The pile of punks turned their battered faces on Reinhard as he ran up to them. Then they pointed in unison at the mansion and said:

“We just went in to catch our breath! That’s all!”

“Yeah, he’s right! We knocked, but nobody answered, so we went in…”

“Then these random-ass twins came out of nowhere and…”

“Hello there. I’m the random twin on the right.”

“I’m on the left.”

“Eeep?!”

The damaged trio flung their arms around one another in terror when the pair of silhouettes popped into the frame. Reinhard’s eyes drifted over the trembling trio to behold the pair. The two identical short girls with pink hair stood by the front door to the mansion. From the way the idiot trio described them and from their own introductions, they were clearly twins.

“Flam, Grassis—did you do this?” Reinhard asked, his shoulders sagging.

The twins answered one after the other. “They looked suspicious, so we did our duty.” “Thugs…”

“They aren’t thugs,” he told them. “I told you about them in my letter. They are Lady Felt’s guests—er, her servants. This makes them your coworkers, starting today.”

“I’m so sorry, Young Master. A lapse of judgment.” “A slipup, Young Master.”

Reinhard beheld the unapologetic twins with a look of bewilderment. But Felt quickly broke the awkward silence with a loud chuckle.

“Hee-hee! Well, ya gotta admit, they do look like thugs. If guys like that crept into my house, I’d kick their asses out, too.”

“Lady Felt…”

As Felt folded her hands behind her head and gave the twins a mischievous grin of sympathy, the frown lines in Reinhard’s forehead only deepened.

“What, you got a problem? Just so we’re clear, I’m not disciplinin’ these twins. That definitely falls under your list of duties.”

“That wasn’t my concern—I just think it’s improper for a lady to laugh so vulgarly…”

“Can’t ya gripe at someone else for a change?! Guys! Stop your whining and get your asses inside!”

With a click of her tongue at Reinhard’s misplaced rebuke, Felt yelled at the trio and ruined the impression of her dress with a wide marching gait as she headed into the mansion. Watching Felt’s shameless display, Flam and Grassis quietly parted like curtains and welcomed her as mistress of the house.

“Lady Felt, your arrival is an honor indeed.” “Indeed.”

“Hey there.”

Felt smiled cheerfully at their welcome, without a hint of fear in her face, and gave their shoulders on either side of her a pat. “Your gramma and grampa took good care of me in the royal capital. Happy to be here.”

“Grandmother said we must serve you well.” “Grandfather said you’re a flower to be nurtured.”

With a nod at the pair, Felt slowly set foot into the mansion.

“Oooh.”

Felt surveyed the house interior and nodded in approval. The interior did not betray the house exterior—the house was just as quaint on the inside as it was on the outside. It was baffling how this house could be so different from the mansions in the royal capital.

“Properties in the royal capital take the neighborhood into consideration when being built,” Reinhard explained to Felt. “This mansion was originally a gift to my grandmother from the king for her meritorious achievements, so when compared to modern buildings…”

“It pales in comparison, yeah. So what you’re sayin’ is, this house is a reflection of your family’s true power?”

“I suppose so, yes. Our villa in the royal capital needs to evoke a grandness befitting of the Sword Saint. In simple terms, it’s all for show.”

“For show, eh? Yeah, you nobles really love showin’ off, don’t ya?”

With a snort at Reinhard’s lecture on mansion size, Felt walked farther inside. She had found the idiot trio and she had Reinhard in tow, but there was one more person Felt needed to reconnect with…

“Hm…you’re finally here. Took ya long enough.”

“Old Man Rom!”

Felt’s eyes lit up as she looked up at the towering man. He waved at her from the staircase opposite the front entrance. His enormous size was a sign of his giant heritage. Felt called him Old Man Rom because he was her surrogate father and the only family she could trust wholeheartedly.

Rom had also traveled from the royal capital to the main Astrea mansion by dragon carriage, but his reason for arriving earlier was a mystery.

“I hear ya folks had a little detour with some important people. How’d that go?” he asked Felt.

“It was the worst! Then again, all I really did was stand next to Reinhard.”

Rom nodded generously, chin in hand. “Did ya now? Well, you gain somethin’ from every experience.”

Felt’s lips twisted into a bitter smile as she recalled her suffering. Along the way, they had taken a very minor detour to pay their respects at a house of some very influential people. It was a family that House of Astrea had long-standing ties with, so they visited to ask for their support in the Royal Selection.

And while Felt and Reinhard were busy with that, Rom asked to move separately and head to the Astrea family home first. At the time, he said it was because groveling for support made his skin crawl, but even Felt understood that there was more to it than that.

The longer you lived, the more complicated your life inevitably became. Even to someone who had only lived fourteen years like Felt, it was an obvious fact of nature. If Rom wanted to talk to her about it, he would, eventually. So Felt put Rom’s feelings first and decided not to press him for any answers.

“I carried our belongings inside,” Rom said. “The twins said we can use the rooms however we like—that okay?”

“Yes, no problems there,” Reinhard answered, nodding. “You may use any room in this house as you see fit, as long as it’s not the personal quarters of my family or the servants. Ah, but that’s odd—” He turned to the twins behind him. “Why did you kick out Gaston and the others but let Rom inside?”

The twins took one look at the giant who had made himself at home, then at Reinhard’s demanding gaze, then at each other.

“Well, Lord Rom looked very strong.” “We don’t like being hurt.”

“……Well, please don’t only do your job when it’s convenient. That won’t help any of us, moving forward.”

“C’mon, yell at them more!”

“I demand justice!”

“This is criminal!”

The idiot trio all cried in disapproval over Flam’s and Grassis’s work ethic. As Reinhard looked on in discomfort, Felt gave his cheek a teasing poke.

“Well—with characters like that, it’s safe to say this house’ll be anything but boring, eh?”

“If you wish it, Lady Felt…” Reinhard cut himself off there and looked over the sea of faces gathered at the mansion. Lastly, his gaze fell onto Felt’s daring smile. “Then I shall do everything in my power to see that you smile.”

2

With her few belongings carried into her room, Felt was finished moving in no time. As a child of the slums, Felt owned no heirlooms or assets. Most of the furniture she used, she left behind in the royal capital. Of the items she kept, most were clothes Rom had made her or her trusty knife she carried for self-defense.

There was also the small savings Felt had scraped together. Aside from that, all she had were the spare dresses Nana had given her in the capital.

“I don’t wanna wear any of ’em, but at least they’re better than the ones Reinhard picked out…”

Felt had spent the past two months in the frilly garments, but she showed no affinity for the ill-fitting life of an aristocrat any more here than she had at the other mansion. That being said, she couldn’t shun the finery forever. Even Felt understood what was expected of her.

This was the path she had chosen. She knew what she had signed up for.

So as a compromise for her embarrassment and pride, she would wear the dresses her nanny had chosen. If she let Reinhard decide everything, all the way down to her clothing choices, it wouldn’t be surprising if the sheer disgust sent her to an early grave.

“Then again, when I’m chillin’ in the mansion, I’m gonna wear whatever I want, whether they like it or not.”

And with that, she peeled her dress off and threw it onto the bed. She changed into her nicest slum clothing, which had become her trademark outfit in the capital. With gloves on her hands and boots on her feet, she could jump and dive without any problems. Just when Felt was giving her shoes an approving nod—

“Lady Felt, may I come in?”

“Hell no.”

“Understood. If you’ll excuse me…”

When she heard the knock and voice at her door, Felt knew immediately who it was and flatly rejected the request, but he ignored her and came into her room all the same. Felt’s lips twisted into a sharp frown.

“Asshole. Why even bother knocking? What if I was naked?”

“I heard you jumping… Lady Felt, when you said you were changing clothes, I had my suspicions, but those clothes—”

“Stop. I’m in no mood for a lecture! Can’t a girl dress the way she wants in private? I promise I’ll wear dresses when I have to. That’s my final offer!” Felt declared, pointing a finger at him.

After a moment’s thought, Reinhard nodded. “So those are your conditions. Very well…”

Surprised by how quickly he agreed, Felt folded her arms smugly and said, “There. Was that so hard? So why’re ya here? I wanna take a nap.”

“Well, I thought I might show you around the property. But I understand that you are tired from the journey here, so I wouldn’t mind if you had a rest.”

“Ew. Why’re you bein’ so understanding? It’s creeping me out.”

“You met me halfway, Lady Felt, so I merely wished to return the favor. I will come fetch you for supper later, so until then, have a nice rest.”

“Huuuh?”

As Reinhard swiftly withdrew, Felt closed one eye and sank into deep thought. The truth was, she didn’t want to take a nap. She wanted to sneak out of the mansion and scout the area. Reinhard’s proposal lined up perfectly with what Felt wanted to do, excluding the part where he would accompany her.

And upon closer observation, Reinhard had changed out of his stuffy knight’s uniform and into a white coat and black pants. He could reasonably pass for an ordinary young man.

Though it went without saying that a simple outfit change would do little to dim Reinhard’s dazzling appearance and extraordinary nature, his clothing choice showed that he was being considerate in his own way.

“……Okay, I changed my mind. You’re on, Reinhard. A tour, right? Lead the way.”

“Are you sure, my lady?”

“Just do it before I change my mind again. I thought everything looked interesting from the dragon carriage window anyway, and it’s not like I’m busy, either.”

With a twist of her neck and a light poking on Reinhard’s chest, Felt headed for the door. Brushing a hand over his chest, Reinhard replied, “Understood. I shall do my utmost to see that you are satisfied, Lady Felt.”

“That stick up your ass is giving me second thoughts. Let’s just go.”

With a short “All right” in reply, Reinhard hurried to her side. When he walked with her, out of his knight’s uniform, Reinhard seemed much more like a normal young man. Clothing choices were more than enough to change a person’s facade. The way he dressed now no longer clashed with Felt and her commoner clothes—

“Whoa, hold up. If you came to my room dressed like that, it’s almost like you knew I was gonna change into these clothes. Were you peeping?”

“You misunderstand, my lady. It was pure conjecture, I promise… I noticed you tugging on your dress several times when we were in the carriage, so I had a feeling you wanted to take it off.”

Felt’s lips twisted into a dissatisfied frown over Reinhard’s explanation. She wasn’t amused that he still seemed to have her in the palm of his hand.

“Ah, right. Just for the record, we’re asking Old Man Rom and the idiot trio to join us! Nobody said anythin’ about it just bein’ you and me!”

“Of course, Lady Felt. It will be much easier for me to protect you that way as well.”

And Reinhard’s shrewd reply was yet another reason Felt’s good mood had turned upside down.

3

Considering the kingdom-wide fame the Sword Saint enjoyed, the Astrea family domain was surprisingly modest in comparison. It was nothing more than a tiny plot of land with the small town of Hakuchuri, with the Astrea manor in its center. Hakuchuri itself could not be called large, either. Its main industries were agriculture and animal husbandry as well as their land dragon industry, which was a distinguishing feature of the region.

“Across from the Highclara Plateau, you’ll find Flanders, one of the five greatest cities. Flanders is known as the land dragon capital of the world, as it has always had a thriving land dragon industry. Hakuchuri craftsmen carry on that tradition by producing reins, saddles, and other related items.”

“I remember you talkin’ about that earlier. Can we ride land dragons? I’m kinda lookin’ forward to that.”

“I shall see to it. Please allow me to find you a sturdy land dragon,” Reinhard promised.

“Suuure thing.”

As she drawled a half-hearted reply, there was a new spring in Felt’s step as she walked down the street. As Reinhard noticed the unspoken joy in his mistress’s heart, he smiled softly.

Reinhard was taking Felt on a survey of House of Astrea’s domain. To Felt, who was born and raised in the royal capital, this was—to put it dramatically—a whole new world to her. There was a freshness in everything she saw, so it was inevitable that everything felt new and exciting.

With the way her eyes darted to and fro at just about everything, the walk was clearly quite entertaining for her.

“Hey, Reinhard. What’s that thing? What’s it for?”

Felt would point and ask eager questions whenever anything piqued her curiosity.

“That’s a black sheep. It’s not for eating but for wool.”

And Reinhard would always have an answer ready. What’s more, every time he noticed a hint of confusion in his mistress’s eyes, he would elaborate as needed.

“The wool on the sheep’s bodies is shaved off for fabric and yarn production. The majority of the farms in these pastures raise black sheep. I’m rather certain there’s some wool in your clothes that originally came from black sheep much like these, Lady Felt.”

“Damn, that’s neat. But if they just let the sheep roam, aren’t they ever stolen?”

“Unlike the royal capital, everyone knows each other in a small town like this. More people worry about demon beasts breaking into their pastures, not thieves. Though wild dragons usually pick off the demon beasts anyway, so losses are usually very minor.”

Felt pursed her lips. “If they’re wild, why do they bother protecting farm animals?”

“Land dragons are friendly with humans. Friendly enough to nestle in our lands.”

Felt turned a scrutinizing gaze on the pasture as she let Reinhard’s answer sink in. The fluffy black animals munching on the grass in the fenced-off pasture were sheep. According to Reinhard, they were just about fluffy enough for shearing season.

Felt was an endless well of questions regarding other livestock and farming tools and every little thing about the farms or the nearby town. All in all, she had no complaints about Reinhard’s tour.

If she had to pick one thing that was less than satisfactory…

“This would’ve been much nicer if there were someone else here besides you and me.”

“Well, that’s a rather hurtful thing to say so openly, Lady Felt.”

Reinhard smiled sheepishly at Felt’s insensitive way with words. But Felt’s complaint was correct; it was just her and Reinhard walking down the street together—Rom and the classic trio were not with them.

Of course, Felt had asked the others to join them before they left. But everyone was busy unpacking from the move and couldn’t come.

“Then again, I didn’t wanna call off the outing ’cause of that. I hate being a coward.”

“If you didn’t want to go out, Lady Felt, I wouldn’t force you—”

“It all. Depends on. My mood. You don’t matter in my decision-making. It’s just a question of which side of me wins the argument. Besides, I’m havin’ a pretty decent time right now.”

With a flippant wave of her hand, Felt scoffed at Reinhard’s worries. It was a mystery how Reinhard felt about her response, but he did not stop walking. That was answer enough.

“………”

As Felt walked with her hands clasped behind her head, she stole a glance at the tall figure beside her. His strength was self-explanatory, and if she asked him questions, he answered most of them. As a personal attendant, there was probably no one better.

And yet Felt experienced an itching discomfort around him that refused to go away. This was why Felt constantly felt the need to keep him at arm’s length.

“Lady Felt? Is something troubling you?”

“Meh, not really. Anyway, this is your hometown, right?”

“I was born in the royal capital. But when I was a child, I was raised here at the main family home, so you would not be wrong in calling this my hometown. Why do you ask?”

“Well, it just seems you aren’t exactly…” Felt closed an eye, searching for an answer. But just then—

“Oh! Lord Reinhard! You’re back!”

The two looked up to see one of the townspeople waving. Just as in the dragon carriage, Reinhard’s distinguished appearance always drew attention from the locals. Reinhard waved back, and the man hastily gave a proper bow.

“That is Cochran. His father owns the pasture we just passed. One of his friends is a craftsman of land dragon equipment, so I was thinking we could have them make you your supplies, Lady Felt.”

“Y’know, you sure do let everyone’s names just roll off your tongue, huh?”

“Well, it’s a small town. Besides, they are the subjects of House Astrea. And to me, they are my hometown friends. My knowing their names is nothing worth boasting about.”

“Friends…interesting.”

With a tilt of her head, Felt turned around and looked at the young man who had just greeted them. Since he had been the one to speak first, he was clearly very friendly. But did he consider Reinhard a friend? Though he appeared to be the same age as Reinhard, due to family, class, and all sorts of other considerations, it looked to Felt like the man kept Reinhard at a respectable distance.

As Felt mulled this over, Reinhard smiled sadly and said, “We can’t help what positions we’re born into. I cannot deny that it is difficult for me to make casual friends, though I feel no reluctance opening my heart to others.”

“But you’re the strongest knight in the kingdom, a nobleman, and basically the lord of this land, right?” Felt pressed, suddenly in a foul mood for seemingly no reason. “I think I understand how the other guy must be feelin’…oh, wait, I got it. You don’t have a single friend here, do you?”

Reinhard shrugged. “If by friend you mean a person with whom I could share a drink…then I’m ashamed to admit it, but yes. While it isn’t quite such an issue in the royal guard, my title is a burden in a place like this. But it isn’t something I can cast aside, even if I wanted to.”

He seemed unfazed by Felt’s attitude, but the words he’d said at the end tugged on her conscience.

“You say you can’t cast it aside, but have you ever considered just doin’ it?”

“No—my destiny is bound by it.”

The shameless, bold way he declared it made that prickly irritation return to Felt. But she shook it off, flashed a grin, and said, “But wow, you’ve got no friends, eh? That explains why nobody came to visit ya even though ya finally came back after all this time away.”

“When you put it that way, yes. Though it’s distasteful of you to smile at such a revelation.”

“Sticks and stones, buddy. Nothin’ you say can bring me down right now.”

Reinhard was a man of no discernible weaknesses, and Felt had finally found one. She would be able to milk it for fun for a good while. But Reinhard nipped Felt’s plans in the bud.

“But, Lady Felt, I didn’t see you exchanging any heartfelt good-byes with anyone when you left the royal capital.”

“Urgh!”

“If you don’t have anyone close to you besides Rom, then you are every bit as—”

“Sh-shaddap! Old Man Rom’s all I need!”

Felt blushed red and snapped at Reinhard’s counterattack. He had hit a nerve. They were at a perfect stalemate. This made Reinhard break into a wide grin, his lake-blue eyes filling with peace.

Felt’s lips twisted into a frown. “What?”

“Nothing. I just find it adorable how deeply you revere Rom.”

“Well, he’s family. I’m sure even a perfect Sword Saint like you has somebody ya look up to. Ya kinda gave me that impression with Nana and Pops back at the house in the capital.”

The elderly caretakers of the Astrea villa called Reinhard “Young Master” and treated him like a son. While their relationship was master-servant, surely Reinhard regarded the pair as family. That was exactly why he acted so natural when he was around them.

“In terms of respect, I do respect my butler and nanny, as well as my family and ancestors. I particularly revere my great-grandfather.”

“Your great-grandfather?”

“My grandmother’s father. Veltol Astrea—master of the family two generations ago.”

“Was he also a Sword Saint?”

Felt was not knowledgeable in how blessings worked, but she had heard that the blessing of the Sword Saint was passed down only through House of Astrea. If the present-day Sword Saint Reinhard revered his great-grandfather, it seemed inevitable that he was a Sword Saint as well.

But Reinhard shook his head. “My great-grandfather did not inherit the blessing of the Sword Saint. But he was loved by his people and revered as a virtuous governor. For some reason, I have no memory of his swordsmanship, but I’ve heard that my swordsman grandfather revered him, so I imagine he was also skilled with a sword.”

“Huh. A virtuous swordsman, eh? Hah! I can’t even picture that.”

Felt fought with a knife, but her fighting style was far too idiosyncratic to be regarded in the same category as swordcraft. To Felt, Reinhard was the definition of a swordsman. And since she found many faults in his character, it was difficult for her to imagine a swordsman being regarded as virtuous.

“Then again, the townspeople don’t seem to hate this guy… Maybe I’m just a mangy stray who wouldn’t know virtue even if I tripped over it…”

“Lady Felt?”

Reinhard stopped in his tracks, peering into Felt’s thoughtful face. When their blue and red gazes locked up close, Felt’s lips twitched into a sneer. Then she said—

“Get your gross face away from me.”

“Ha-ha, pardon me, my lady.”

Felt shoved Reinhard away with a palm to the chin and muscled her way ahead. Reinhard smiled sheepishly and turned his gaze up to the sky. The sun was already tilting well toward the west, dyeing the sky orange with each passing minute.

“Lady Felt, we should head back to the mansion. Dinner will be served shortly.”

“Hm, guess so. Good timing. All that walking made me hungry anyway.”

“Flam and Grassis are preparing the meal. I will introduce you properly then.”

“Right, we did exchange hellos, but we barely talked.”

The twins looked younger than Felt, but being the granddaughters of that tough elderly couple, they had the strength and skills to handily beat up the idiot trio. Surely a gift from their grandparents.

“They will care for the property as well as guard you as needed, Lady Felt. Their family has always served the Astrea, and as such, they are quite capable.”

“I wasn’t ever worried they weren’t. All I care about now is how they cook!”

“My nanny taught them well, so you can expect a delicious feast tonight.”

“Yes!”

Reinhard’s rave reviews received a fist bump from Felt. This was her biggest grin of the day, but she didn’t notice Reinhard return it with a soft smile of his own.

That being said, as Felt turned back on her way home, she had attained an inner peace of which even she was unaware. She had traveled to an unfamiliar land, surrounded by unfamiliar people, and she would have to learn everything about this new, unfamiliar world. Felt possessed a fierce desire to never let her fears defeat her.

And most of those fears were dispelled in that half day.

The house wasn’t too spacious. It contained only the minimum required staff, and the domain was not too vast, and its people were friendly. The list of concerns was endless, but we’ll leave it at that.

The more she saw for herself what life was like here, the more reality swept away the fears that lived only in her imagination. And thanks to that, she was ready to face the coming weeks and months with much more optimism.

“Y’know, the thought that this is all going according to your plan kinda scares me.”

“Lady Felt, you think too highly of me. I am not capable of controlling anyone’s thoughts or actions. It’s merely a coincidence, I assure you.”

“Well, I’ll just pray you really mean it.”

Though Felt never prayed to anything in particular, she stuck out her tongue and teased Reinhard all the same.

Reinhard had everything in the palm of his hand. And with this paranoid delusion still dragging her down, the pair left the town, climbed up the hill, and returned to the Astrea mansion.

“Be honest—this isn’t your doing, is it?”

Reinhard looked at Felt with a quizzical frown. “…I am just as perplexed as you are.”

Standing before them at the mansion gate was a basket with a baby inside.

—And with it was a letter that said simply: “Please take good care of Ilya.”

4

“This baby’s name is Ilya. She was abandoned in front of the house.”

Felt set the baby basket in the center of the table and gave a brief explanation. The baby girl with blond hair, only a few months old, was sleeping soundly in the middle of the dinner table. They had brought her inside, as there was nothing else they could have done with her.

Everyone in the house exchanged uncomfortable looks after Felt introduced the baby. Including Felt and Reinhard, everyone was in attendance, from Rom to the idiot trio to the twin maids. But the full attendance did nothing to soften the blow.

As the heavy silence cut through them, the first to speak were the pink-haired twins, who looked first at Felt, then at Reinhard, and said:

“Young Master, Lady Felt, that was far too fast to make a baby.” “Too fast to birth it, too.”

“You. Little. Shits! I’m not in the mood for your awful jokes right now!”

Felt pounded her fists and screeched at the twins’ joke that was very much not a joke. The jab was justified, as Felt and Reinhard had come home with a baby in their arms, but this was no laughing matter.

However, Felt’s violent reaction to the joke was too intense for the baby.

“Wahh…”

“Ah! She’s woken up, Lady Felt.” “Prepare for doom.”

“Shit.”

Slowly, the baby’s eyes opened, the blue irises taking in all the faces in the dining hall. Then, after one second…two seconds…three seconds passed—

“W-WAAAH!”

“Aaagh! Damn it, now she’s crying!”

As Felt shouted out in anger, the baby—Ilya—cried even harder. Her voice was loud enough to resonate through the entire mansion.

Felt’s hands leaped to her ears. “S-somebody! Do somethin’!”

“We would, but we have no experience…” “We give up.”

“Some help you are! Hey, Reinhard!”

“I’ll see what I can do…”

Flam and Grassis raised a white flag, and Felt was never that keen on the baby in the first place. With all the women deserting the battle, Reinhard picked up the baby instead. He gently rocked her, patting her back.

“There, there, don’t cry. You’re a big, strong girl. You’re beautiful, Ilya.”

“I didn’t say seduce her, you creep! Aren’t you supposed to, like, feed her or somethin’…?”

As Reinhard spoke gently to the baby in hushed tones, Felt raised her voice in frustration. But in no time, the sobbing in Reinhard’s arms subsided.

“Go to sleep, go to sleep…go to sleep—there. Good girl.”

“W-wow, you’ve got a gift,” Felt said, her eyes wide. “That shocked me almost as much as the time you blew up the stolen goods storehouse.”

“Ahh…,” Ilya cooed, patting Reinhard’s cheeks as he smiled in relief.

“She is a girl, after all. Seein’ a handsome man must’ve made her feel better,” Rom said, folding his arms and nodding at the baby whisperer in understanding.

“If that’s why she stopped cryin’, then babies are actually insane.”

But one of the idiot trio, Camberley, put up a hand in interruption. The little man stepped forward and thrust both his arms out toward Reinhard. “Lemme have her. I’ve got lots of younger brothers and sisters. I’ve taken care of lots of babies!”

“Well, that will certainly help us out. But Ilya has already stopped crying.”

“Never mind that! I’m gonna show ya the real way to soothe a baby!”

Since Camberley’s face was brimming with that much confidence, Reinhard surrendered the baby to him. Camberley looked into Ilya’s face, opened his eyes wide, and said—

“Bugga-bugga-bugga-boo!”

“WAAAH!!!”

“Real, my ass. Now she’s cryin’ even harder!”

The strange faces Camberley made had ruined Ilya’s good mood. As the baby wailed, Camberley hit her with his best baby-soothing techniques, but Ilya’s tears did not stop. Diplomacy had failed, and he was entirely at the baby’s mercy.

“Shit! What do you even want?! Gaston!”

“Y-yeahh? Uh, don’t give her to me, I can’t…uh, bugga-bugga-boo!”

“WAAAH!!!”

Gaston tried his best with the opponent that Camberley flung into his arms, but he met the same fate. As Ilya turned red and screamed, Gaston threw her to the next in line, Lachins.

“Lachins! You’re our only hope!”

“Whaaa! No! Not so damn fast! N-no way can I soothe a bab…y?”

“”

Lachins wailed pitifully, a pathetic look on his face. But as soon as Ilya was slipped into his arms, she stopped crying. With a nervous laugh at the baby’s unexpected reaction, he said, “W-well, I dunno how, but she stopped cryin’. Now we can finally—”

“WAAAH!!”

“—Don’t give me false hope, damn it! Why was that reaction so delayed?!”

“I think she probably just had a hard time makin’ up her mind,” Rom said. “But she finally decided to cry after all.”

“Oh, shut up, ya old fart! If you’re so smart, then you do somethin’, Cromwell!”

Upon barely failing to meet the baby’s seal of approval, Lachins shoved Ilya into the elderly man’s experienced hands. Rom’s face wrinkled into a smile as he cooed, “Oooh, there, there, there, there. Don’t cry, little one.”

“Ha! What’re you even doin’? If that makes her stop cryin’, we wouldn’t—”

“Oooh, ahh.”

“Why did that work?!”

Though the idiot trio had failed, Ilya seemed to have given Rom a pass. In the end, only two had earned Ilya’s approval: Rom and Reinhard.

“Well, since she is a girl, I can understand her choosing Young Master, however…Lord Rom is a mystery.”

“How is that a mystery?!” Felt demanded. “Choosing Old Man Rom just proves she’s got good taste. Though it pisses me off that he’s in the same category as Reinhard!”

As the girls in the group gave their expert approval (ironic, since they were themselves completely useless), the three stooges hung their heads in shame. Meanwhile, as Rom soothed Ilya beside them, he gave a thoughtful tilt of the head and said, “So aside from her name, we’ve got no clues about her. Wasn’t there anythin’ else in the basket with her?”

“Just a bib and a swaddling blanket. There wasn’t a sender’s name on the letter, either,” Reinhard said, his eyes dropping back into the basket.

“Her parents abandoned her,” Felt spat. “Why would they reveal their name? Man, you’re so stupid.” As Reinhard gave her response a perplexed look, Felt stuck up a chiding finger and said, “Listen close, okay? This baby’s parents threw her away. They probably noticed you came home to this big house and thought somebody’d take care of her here. Makes me sick to my stomach.”

As Reinhard sat in an uncomfortable silence, Rom offered him a constructive question. “Is it possible…that her parents are in a nearby town?”

Reinhard considered Rom’s question for a moment, before giving the expected response. “That would be difficult to find out, given the possibilities. There were many pregnant women in this town, but…”

Reinhard’s words cut off there as he scrutinized Ilya. She wore a white dress and was twirling Rom’s arm hairs in her fingers. It was clear she wasn’t even a year old.

“Judging by her size, Ilya was born a few months ago…,” Reinhard said. “If we’re looking for a woman who gave birth, then that narrows down the list of candidates a bit. Plus, there’s her looks—”

“The blond hair and deep blue eyes, right?” Felt interrupted him, pointing at her own hair. “Blond hair isn’t all that rare, ya know. I mean, look at me.”

As far as Felt knew, blond was not a rare hair color for Lugunica. In her line of work—her former line of work—observing people had become second nature to her. Blond hair and blue eyes were common.

“Yes, people with blond hair like yours might not be all that rare, Lady Felt,” Reinhard conceded. “But this fact only applies near the royal capital. In eastern regions like Hakuchuri and Flanders, brown hair is the norm… Didn’t you notice everyone we passed on the way here had brown hair?”

“…Now that ya mention it, yeah.” Felt pictured all the residents of her new town. And he was right. Everyone she met had brown hair, aside from the elderly with their white hair. “But what’s your point?” she asked.

“The young man’s point is this,” Rom said. “This baby girl’s hair and eye color means she came from the royal capital… If she was born around these parts, she would stand out.”

“Rom’s analysis is precisely right. I only hope my worry is unfounded…,” Reinhard muttered meaningfully.

Felt folded her arms and considered his reasoning. She tilted her head, moaned softly, then growled and tussled her hair. “Agh, all your yappin’ is making my ears bleed! Spit it out. What’re you tryin’ to say?”

“I’m saying it’s possible that Ilya’s problems might go beyond her being abandoned,” Reinhard replied. “And I have a question to ask you regarding that.”

“Meh? What?”

“Lady Felt—what do you wish to become of Ilya?”

Reinhard’s quiet question took Felt’s breath away. And with her air still trapped in her lungs, she looked at the baby in Old Man Rom’s arms. She was still obsessed with Rom’s arm hair, completely oblivious to the fact that the people around her were deciding her fate that very minute.

She was abandoned by her parents, left at a mansion’s doorstep, without the power to decide her own destiny—

“Lady Felt—please make a decision,” Reinhard pressed her.

Making this Felt’s decision was likely an expression of his respect for her. Either that or he was using this situation to test Felt. To test whether Felt could make the decision on her own, without any input from Rom or himself.

“If your theory is right…her parents are bastards.”

“Huh?”

“Nothin’. So. You want me to decide what happens to this little brat.”

Regardless of Reinhard’s expectations, Felt’s mind was already made up. With a twisted, devilish grin on her face, she pointed at Ilya and said, “I don’t have any feelings whatsoever for that baby. But I hate her parents for abandoning her. So I wanna find ’em and have a chat.”

“You wish to…have a chat?”

“That’s right. I wanna chat. Part of me wants to hear what parents who abandoned their own baby have to say. Like, ask ’em why.”

After she spat out the words, Felt’s cheeks twisted dramatically into a grimace. She wanted to hear them out. She wanted to know how it felt to abandon your own baby. And for that to happen—

“If we’re gonna scare the shit out of her parents, we’d better take real good care of this baby!”

As Felt proudly puffed out her chest, Reinhard fell silent. And he wasn’t the only one who was lost for words. Each had their own unique expression, but the look in their eyes was more or less unified.

Overall, they were not very impressed.

“Why’re you lookin’ at me like that, assholes? You got a problem? Say it to my face!” Felt demanded.

Rom answered, “I’m mostly to blame, but it’s almost impressive how disingenuous you are…”

“Um, shut up?! I’m being serious here! Don’t put words in my mouth!” Felt barked at Rom’s pruney face. But Felt’s outburst was once again too cruel for the little infant—

“WAHHH!!”

“Agh! You little shit!”

And with that, the baby’s screams rang from the predinner dining hall throughout the mansion yet again.

5

It wasn’t until deep in the night that Ilya finally cried herself to sleep.

“D-dang, babies are hardcore… Just where do they get all that energy in those tiny bodies?” Felt grumbled, flopping onto the couch in exhaustion.

“When considering the tiny size of your own body…” “You’re one to talk.”

Felt glared at the twins. “Aw, shaddap. You guys are both smaller than me. Just how old are you anyway?”

The twins stood proud.

“We will turn twelve this year.” “An age of independence.”

“Can you be independent when you’re attached at the hip?”

Felt’s words stunned the twins.

“Now that you mention it…” “What a blind spot.”

Felt ignored them and turned her eyes toward the back of the room.

Atop the table in the conference room sat a basket, and beside it, Reinhard was at work. And as for what it was he was doing—

“Dang, who’d have thought you could change diapers? You really can do anything, can’t ya?”

“You flatter me, my lady. I learned how to change diapers long ago, when I took care of an acquaintance’s babies.”

“Huh…so you’ve taken care of babies before?”

Felt propped her chin up on her hands from her reclined position on her side as she pondered this unexpected new side of Reinhard. And in the corner of her eye, she could see the twins blushing and fidgeting ever so slightly.

With a dubious look at their behavior, Felt stared back and forth between the twins and Reinhard until it hit her.

“Hah! I think I know whose babies they were!”

“Lady Felt, please don’t speak of such embarrassing things…” “The pinnacle of shame.”

Their faces bright red, the twins nervously shied away. As Felt took their behavior as confirmation, Reinhard smiled sheepishly.

“Ah, you’ve caught me… Yes, I’ve known Flam and Grassis since they were babies…”

“Don’t tell me you made moves on babies, ya perv?!”

“Please, be patient. At least give me a chance to clarify.”

“Hah! I was only joking.” Felt lowered her accusing finger and blew on the tip. “You confining me in your house and you changing these twins’ diapers when they were babies are different matters. So’s you changing this baby’s diaper right now.”

“Well, that’s a relief to hear,” Reinhard said, finishing the job. “There. All changed. Flam, Grassis, did you remember all that?”

“Yes, Young Master. Perfectly.”

“Diaper Master…”

“I’ll be counting on you both,” he said. “Now, let’s change her bib and blanket. However, the unfamiliar textures might make her fussy, so let’s include her old bedding with them at the start.”

After receiving Reinhard’s snappy orders, Flam and Grassis bowed and left the conference room. Since the others weren’t in the room to begin with, that meant Felt and Reinhard were the only two people there—three if Ilya was included.

“The boys…Old Man Rom excluded, of course…you can’t rely on them for anything,” Felt grumbled.

“Though caring for Ilya may be a stretch, I do believe they will prove useful in the search for her parents,” Reinhard assured her. “I was thinking we should put them to work with the rest of us tomorrow.”

His hands on the basket, Reinhard defended the idiot trio from Felt’s slander. Felt’s face twisted in discomfort. (She hadn’t intended for Reinhard to hear that.)

“Tomorrow, eh?” she said, nodding in approval. “But will they be able to handle the parents? They abandoned their baby. They might just run away.”

“I’ve already spoken with the townsfolk and the dragon carriage stops. Any travelers or people with features similar to Ilya’s will be stopped, and they’ll report back to me. I’ve also looked into pregnancies in town during our target time frame. For better or worse, we could not find anyone who could be Ilya’s mother.”

“……After all that work you did, is there anything left for the idiot trio?”

Felt’s gaze was filled with doubt, bewildered by Reinhard’s productivity. It was mostly Reinhard who had cared for Ilya after dinner, to boot. She couldn’t help but wonder where he found the time to do everything he claimed he did.

“If this makes you uncomfortable, Lady Felt, would you like to try changing her diapers?”

“Eh, I’ll think about it. I basically remember how to do it.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” he lied brazenly.

Felt’s lips twisted into a frown. Under the pretense of teaching Flam and Grassis how to change diapers, Reinhard had angled himself in such a way that Felt could also watch and learn. Even Felt didn’t feel right pushing all the duties onto Reinhard, however, and she intended to learn how to change diapers all along.

“You knew I’d never ask you to teach me how, so you taught me anyway. Damn it. You seriously piss me off.”

“Something the matter, my lady?”

“Nah, it’s nothin’…” Felt propped her chin up in her hands. “No, it’s not nothin’. Tell me the truth, how do you really feel?”

“Lady Felt?” Reinhard raised an eyebrow.

Felt remained splayed on the sofa in the most unladylike manner, scratching her head with an open palm. “Taking in the baby…lookin’ for its parents…takin’ care of it…I made all those decisions on my own. You made me choose. But I was just wondering…how do you feel about all this?”

“………”

“For the record, I don’t want my opinions to play any part in yours. I’m me. You’re you. Remember that. Otherwise, you’ll creep me out.”

Felt slid her legs down, letting the momentum sit her up. Now seated properly, she turned to face Reinhard. And as she stared at him, one of his eyes squeezed shut. Then, keeping an eye on Felt, he softly gestured to the baby.

“For now, Lady Felt…I’ll say that if you commanded me to leave the baby on the street, I would have obeyed. In this matter, there is no correct answer.”

“But that’s not your opinion—”

“I also believe I would have snuck Ilya into the house, cared for her, and looked for her parents.”

“Huuuh?”

Reinhard spread his arms wide, smiling softly. And as she sat there, sucker punched, she slowly realized he had played her. Her cheeks quickly flashed red in anger as she said—

“You son of a—!”

“Lady Felt, Ilya’s sleeping.”

“Urgh…! Wipe that…smug grin…off your…face.”

The second rebuke managed to stop Felt from another angry outburst, but her anger remained channeled at Reinhard in a death glare and in a cutting retort delivered in short, sharp phrases.

In the end, Felt had played right into Reinhard’s hands. No matter what choice Felt made, Reinhard would have done everything he could for the baby. (Though whether that was his true desire or not remained a mystery.)

“Are you gonna say you’d do that for the baby’s sake or some shit?”

“I acknowledge, it is in my nature to help someone in need, but in this case, does one need a special reason to save a baby’s life?”

Felt had no answer.

“Besides, if you’ll allow me to speak personally for a moment…”

The word personally made Felt’s eyebrow raise. Reinhard rarely expressed personal opinions. And his personal opinion was exactly what Felt was looking for at that moment in time.

Reinhard turned a thin smile toward Felt’s eager eyes and said, “Nothing honors me more as a knight than your opinion aligning with mine, Lady Felt.”

“What the—?”

“I remembered the moment you gave me the order at the Royal Selection. And I can’t deny that, if possible, I wish to always agree with my mistress.”

Reinhard’s shamelessly heartfelt words left Felt opening and closing her mouth like a fish. But Reinhard answered her reaction with his usual nonchalant confidence.

So he hadn’t played Felt after all; neither had he played along with her. Those were his sincere feelings, without question. And it was the sincerity of his feelings that caused the tremors in Felt.

And as the tremors still held her captive, she snapped, “You asshole—you really creep me out when you’re like this!!!”

Felt’s savage shriek boomed throughout the entire Astrea mansion.

And barely a second later.

“WAHHHH!!”

And as a reward for forgetting her lesson, the loud cries shook the house to its foundations and shattered the quiet night sky.

6

Deep in the night, while the baby’s cries shook the Astrea house…

“The woman and the baby—did you find them?”

The deep voice sounded sharp in the dimly lit room. The voice was raspy and evoked a sense of age, but it was powerful. It was a power that could only come with years of experience standing above others—it was called gravitas.

By necessity, the owner of the voice had people serving him. As proof, the quick breathing of several people filled the room shortly after his voice sounded.

“My deepest apologies. We are still looking, my lord. We fear they are no longer in this town…”

“Then look harder. Do you have any leads on where they might have gone?”

“She had nobody to trust, so she couldn’t have gone far. Searching every building near here one by one would be standard procedure.”

“That’ll take too long. Narrow down the possibilities—starting with Hakuchuri.”

When a subordinate delivered the report, the dignified voice gave the order after only a moment’s decisive thought. The room filled with unease in reply, but the subordinate who received the order quietly bowed.

“As you will, my lord. I will dispatch people immediately. Things may get a little messy…”

“So be it. Capture is our top priority. Even if you can’t get the woman, bring the baby back.”

“I shall keep that in mind.” And with that short, reverent reply, the subordinate turned to someone, grunted, “We’re going,” and left the room. The door to the dark room closed, leaving only one man.

“Where did you run off to…?”

He stared out the window at the skyline framed by the dark of night—it was Flanders, one of the five greatest cities. The man’s room was in a lavish house, high enough to overlook the city. And in his room on the highest floor of the house, the man pulled a cigar out of his desk drawer and lit it. The light flickering from the cigar illuminated the deep wrinkled features of the man.

His blond hair was fading to gray, and his blue eyes were filled with brutality.

“I will find you, Ilya…”

The man’s growled words rose up and vanished into the black starry sky over Flanders.

7

Over the past few days, a certain activity became a daily routine in the town of Hakuchuri. From Astrea manor, positioned high on a hill overlooking their land, sounds of a baby crying and a heated argument between a man and woman could be heard.

“WAAAH!”

As the baby cried with all her might, the townsfolk stopped what they were doing. Then they exchanged looks, laughed, said, “There they go again,” and got back to work.

It had quickly become a part of daily life.

“Lady Felt—I don’t wish to repeat myself, but please pay close attention to what I have to say this time.”

Reinhard sternly broached the subject, opening with a ceremonious preamble. His voice held an unusual firmness in it, lacking in its customary warmth. Reinhard used this tone not because he was getting emotional, but because he would simply not be heard otherwise.

And as for why—because the baby’s cries were bouncing throughout the entire mansion.

“WAAAH!”

Ilya the baby wailed, shouting her grievances with all her might. Since their decision to keep Ilya, Felt and the rest of the household did everything in their power to care for the baby, but—as petty as it was to accuse a baby of such—Ilya used her status as an infant to refuse making any concessions to her caregivers.

“I don’t care that she’s a baby—that’s too much cryin’! She cries all damn day!”

“All day is an extreme accusation, Lady Felt. Her actual crying time is in intervals that occur every few hours. It merely feels like she’s crying all day, since babies cannot tell the difference between night and day.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, does it look like I care about technicalities? If you’ve got time to waste lecturing me, you should spend it making the baby stop crying.”

With her hands over her ears, Felt carelessly hurled that order at Reinhard. But Reinhard shook his head and said, “My stopping her crying here would only be a temporary measure. Unless we address the root of the problem, Ilya will keep feeling the need to cry. That I cannot bear to see.”

“Oh, don’t be so melodramatic. And whaddaya mean, ‘address the root of the problem’?”

“Why, it’s you, Lady Felt. You’re the reason Ilya is crying right now.”

“Me? So it’s my fault? What the hell’s wrong with me…?”

“Just look.”

As Felt bristled under the surprise accusation, Reinhard pointed to Ilya, who was crying on the bed. “Ilya’s diapers. You were the one who changed her last…and look at how shoddily you’ve wrapped her. It’s only natural for Ilya to feel uncomfortable.”

Felt’s lips twisted into a frown. “Meh, who cares? As long as diapers cover the butt and keep stuff from leaking out, it’s all good.”

Felt denied Reinhard’s accusations, but the cloth they used as a diaper was indeed sloppily applied, and it was indeed Felt who was responsible. Of course, it was rather unusual that Felt was changing a diaper in the first place.

“Lady Felt…please try to be empathetic to Ilya. The crown will only grow further from reach if you aren’t.”

“You’re graspin’ at straws, asshole! How are kings and diapers related?! What, you want me to imagine how a baby in diapers feels?! You’re sick!”

Twisting Reinhard’s argument into an extreme shadow of itself, Felt rubbed her head as hard as she could.

“Why do I have to take care of her anyway?! The twins! The idiot trio! Where are they?! What are they doing right now?!”

“Flam and Grassis have household chores to do. And the boys are searching for Ilya’s parents as we speak. As for Rom, I assume you are well aware…”

“Mrrrg…”

Backed into a corner by Reinhard, Felt could hardly growl in reply. Meanwhile, Reinhard asked Ilya, “You okay, little one? Don’t worry, I’ll make you more comfortable,” and gently rewrapped her messy diaper.

Though Reinhard’s words had annoyed Felt, Rom was currently away from the Astrea home. He had hurried off by himself to visit an acquaintance outside the royal capital.

This had left Felt without her Rom and in charge of a baby…and her spirit was about to break.

“In any case, you and I are the only ones free at the moment, Lady Felt.”

“Then why didn’t you go looking for her parents instead of the idiot trio…?”

“They have a difficult time tending to Ilya, which would leave you to care for her on your own… Unless that’s all right with you?”

“What did I do to deserve this…?!” Felt clutched her head and wailed at the freshly changed Ilya.

This was Ilya’s fifth day at the Astrea house, and her infant outbursts were skirting the line of deviousness. No matter how much trouble she caused for those around her, if she smiled like an angel, all would be forgiven. It was an easy life. Nobody would blame her for mistaking herself for a queen.

“If we don’t find her parents quick, there’s no tellin’ what I’ll do to them… I’m starting to not feel like myself anymore.”

“Whenever you feel that way, just look at Ilya’s little face. See how her pure smile cleanses the soul and eases your anger?”

“Her smile is the main reason I feel so hopeless right now.”

While Felt had the natural impulse to snap back at Reinhard no matter what he said, she had more reason than that this time. Taking care of a baby seemed to consume every waking hour—and quite a few sleeping hours as well. There was no way around that. Ilya was so overwhelming that Felt was starting to think her parents left her not because of any particular hardship, but for her nightly crying.

“Shit, if that’s true, then somebody just kill me now…”

Of course, if every baby who cried at night was abandoned, the streets would be overflowing with them. Royal Selection candidate or not, Felt did not want to think the kingdom she lived in was such a brutal place.

“Oooh, what a nice blue sky…”

Felt mindlessly gazed out her window while, in her periphery, Reinhard soothed Ilya. Above was a blue sky with white clouds, and beneath her lay an idyllic landscape. It wasn’t uniquely soothing, but as Felt was sleep-deprived from the nights of crying, a yawn escaped her mouth.

“If you’re going to lie down for a nap with Ilya, shall I sing a lullaby?”

“Don’t patronize me. I’ll kick you out the window.”

Reinhard’s keen senses irked Felt. How did he know she had yawned? Did he have eyes in the back of his head?

She leaned against the windowsill, letting the breeze flow through her blond hair and sleep’s spell take her—

“Huh?”

Felt’s dozy-eyed reverie in the gentle breeze and warm sun was interrupted by a sudden sense of wrongness. Sneaking beneath the hill on which the house stood, there was a silhouette. And when he noticed Felt, he hastily turned his back and ran.

“That son of a—!”

“Lady Felt?!”

The next thing Reinhard knew, Felt had jumped out the window. Stunned momentarily, Felt was just out of his reach as she landed in the garden. As she hunched on all fours, glaring down the slope of the hill, the retreating male figure came into view. She lunged to chase after him, when—

“Lady Felt, when there’s trouble, command me to act. That is my job.”

The next thing Felt knew, Reinhard was beside her, grabbing her shoulder. Her first instinct was to shove him off, but after she reined in that impulse and assessed the situation, she simply pointed down the slope.

“Some shady guy was staring up into the house. Go get him!”

“Yes, my lady! Please look after Ilya in the meantime,” Reinhard assented, transferring Ilya from his arms to Felt’s. No sooner had the warm baby hit her arms than Reinhard disappeared like the wind. He launched himself forward, and within seconds, he was right behind the man. The latter seemed confident in his legs, but even Felt was faster than he was—there was no way he could outrun Reinhard.

“Whoo-hoo! We got ’im!”

Felt stuck her hands under Ilya’s armpits and let her little legs swing in celebration. A dust cloud rose in the distance, and inside it, a man lay pinned beneath Reinhard, unresisting. Everything had happened too quickly for Felt to fully understand how it had gone down, but she had no complaints.

She stood there, bouncing Ilya in her arms as she waited, until Reinhard marched back to her, dragging the man by the scruff of his neck.

“Lady Felt, this way.”

Without even breaking a sweat, Reinhard tossed the man onto the ground. He was middle-aged and dressed inconspicuously. He stared up shakily at Reinhard, his eyes big and beady.

“Wh-what…are you that monster everyone’s talking about?”

“I am accustomed to being called that, yes. I am Lady Felt’s knight at present.”

“Could you maybe stop answering that way every single time? You’re makin’ my ears bleed.”

With a snap at Reinhard’s dutiful answer, Felt turned her attention on the trembling man. She tilted her head quizzically at the strained grin on his face.

“Maybe I’m wrong, but it looked a lot like you were staking out the manor. What are you up to?”

“Heh…heh-heh. Well, when I heard the Sword Saint was back in town, I just had to get a glimpse of him with my own eyes…”

Felt glanced at her knight. “Reinhard—have your way with this scumbag.”

The man’s face turned white. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, stop! No, no, no, what do you mean, ‘have your way’?! What’re you gonna do to me?!”

The man was clearly more than terrified of Reinhard and couldn’t take it anymore. Reinhard pinched tiredly between his eyes. “Lady Felt, you just gave him the impression that I’m quite the dangerous character…”

“Yeah, it’s the obvious thing to do, my guy. Use your head.” Shrugging at the perplexed Reinhard, Felt bared her fangs in a grin at the man and said, “Either way, your turn to talk. Who are you? Why are you here? Tell us, or else…”

“O-or else…?”

“I’ll sic Reinhard on ya.”

Reinhard raised no protest this time. With a cynical smile, he nodded and said, “’Tis my duty as your knight,” and stood poised to carry out her order.

Sensing something beyond a mere threat in the exchange, the man let out a flustered yelp. “Okay! I’ll talk! I’m with the Black Silver Coin! The boss sent me here to find the baby!”

8

“The ‘Black Silver Coin,’ you say…?”

The man promised to spill everything. And once he was finished, Felt put a hand to her forehead in thought. Truth be told, Felt was not all that knowledgeable on happenings outside the royal capital. But she still had a good idea of what this Black Silver Coin might be and of what sort of business they might be into.

“The Black Silver Coin is a crime organization based in Flanders. It fronts as a tavern or as a land dragon accessory dealer…,” Reinhard said.

“But actually, they’re king of the black market, right?” Felt interjected. “I’ve heard this story a million times.”

There was another crime organization by a different name in the royal capital as well. Felt tried to avoid them, but the interconnected nature of a city made it impossible for her to avoid contact completely.

“I guess a common goon like him wouldn’t know much more beyond that,” Felt said, sighing. “He said he didn’t know who at the Black Silver Coin ordered him to find Ilya or why. And besides…”

“Why Ilya was left at our doorstep still remains a mystery, yes,” Reinhard finished for her.

In the end, they didn’t get any further information on why Ilya was a target. They tied up the goon and shut him up in a storehouse, which was its own issue.

They always had the aggressive option of storming the Black Silver Coin stronghold, using Reinhard as a shield and demanding information from them directly…but Felt wasn’t too keen on following through with that. Felt hated relying on Reinhard for anything, but that wasn’t her only reason. It was simply because she could see no scenario where such drastic measures would yield a satisfying resolution.

“But if we do nothin’, we’re just stuck…” Felt sank into the sofa, wondering what to do. As Reinhard stood at attention by her side, he cast a tender glance at Ilya, who was sleeping soundly in the bed.

A plan to break free of the stalemate—that was what Felt’s brain was longing for in that moment…

“Hey, hey! We’re back! Where’s our adoring welcome?!”

“……Those stooges.”

The cocky voice sailed all the way from the front door up to the second floor. It was from one of the idiot trio tasked with finding Ilya’s parents. Seeing Ilya’s sleeping face twitch from the thoughtless shouting, Felt cursed under her breath and ran out of the room.

She looked at the front door and furrowed her brows and yelled, “Shut the hell up! You’ll wake Ilya!”

“You’re one to talk. Are you sure you should talk to us like that?!”

“Huh? What the hell’re you say—?”

Camberley proudly puffed out his chest and smirked smugly at Felt. Using the full extent of his tiny frame, he turned dubious Felt’s attention to the front door. And there were Gaston and Lachins—and with them, a beautiful woman with long ash-brown hair.

She was about twenty years old and had a warm aura about her. She was also nervously fidgeting, overwhelmed by the splendor of a lord’s house. Then, when she noticed Felt staring straight at her, she frantically bowed her head.

“………”

When Felt observed the woman’s behavior, the wrinkles between her skeptical brows got even more pronounced. The trembling woman, the proud idiot trio… Well, these idiots…they were thugs.

“Reinhard. Tie ’em all up.”

“Yes, milady—”

“Wait, hold on!” Lachins howled, interrupting him. “Use your eyes, dummy! She’s the brat baby’s mother!”

What did Lachins just say? This woman…is Ilya’s mother?

“Ilya’s mom…how exactly d’ya figure that?”

It was undeniably good news. But Felt was sick of getting her hopes dashed. Knowing those boys, it was likely a misunderstanding. As Felt frowned doubtfully at him, Lachins smiled smugly.

“To the untrained eye, it wouldn’t be so clear, but I knew it right when I saw her clothes. Most parents abandon their kids for money. So most abandoned babies are dressed in filthy rags, but that baby’s clothes and basket were clean and nice-lookin’. I knew somethin’ was amiss from the get-go.”

“This guy came from a good home, unlike us,” Gaston added, in support of Lachins’s conjecture.

“That ain’t important,” Lachins sourly muttered back. Then, with a hasty cough, he said, “Anyway, she clearly wasn’t hurtin’ for cash, and she left the baby at the house of the Sword Saint… Can it be any simpler? Her life’s in danger. That’s why she abandoned her baby.”

Leaving her baby at the Sword Saint’s home would eliminate the fear of anyone coming after it. And indeed, she had avoided the Black Silver Coin’s assassins. If Lachins’s theory was correct, everything must have proceeded according to plan.

“Okay, it’s impressive that you figured out that much…but is there more?” Felt asked.

“What would any mother do after the Sword Saint took in her baby? Run as far away from the baby as possible to be a decoy! Spying on the dragon carriage stops wasn’t a bad idea, but we went a step further than that! We set our sights on the long-distance dragon coaches and found the final piece of the puzzle!”

With an overdramatic wave of his arms, Camberley thrust them both in front of himself. But Felt failed to see what this monumental discovery of theirs was.

“Just look! Look! It’s this—this!”

“Whaddaya mean this… Wait, huhh?”

At Camberley’s insistence, Felt finally noticed. He was gripping a thin string in his hands—rather, it wasn’t a string. It was a human hair. A long ash-brown hair. Gripping it in his hands, Camberley smiled smugly at Felt.

“It was somebody else’s hair in the baby’s basket! Now, it’s not the same color as the baby’s hair, so it had to be from her parent! And her mom, at that…”

“That’s…kind of a gross way to find her,” Felt said.

“Is that the thanks we get for our thorough detective work?!”

Offended by Felt’s simplistic reaction, Camberley snapped the hair in two and snarled. But Felt quickly laughed and apologized with a casual wave of her hand.

“Either way, good job,” she told him. “But that still isn’t enough…”

Gaston butted in, counting on his fingers, “An outsider, a strand of hair, a dragon carriage destined for a long trip. And to top everything else off—” Then he pointed at the woman with his chin. Felt looked at her again…and that’s when she finally noticed.

The petrified woman was bandaged beneath her clothes, from her neck to her chest.

“So the mom was in danger as well as the baby…,” she muttered. “Hey. Twins!”

“You called, my lady?” “A summons from Lady Felt.”

The moment Felt barked her call, the twins appeared like a puff of smoke. The idiot trio recoiled in surprise, and the woman’s eyes also shot open.

But Felt treated their entrance like it was perfectly normal and said, “Get the first aid supplies. That bandaging is even worse than my diapering. It’s so clumsy, I can’t stand to look at it.”

“Oh my, Lady Felt, aren’t we self-aware.” “Burn in the hot coals of thy sins.”

“Oh, shaddap!”

With their hands to their open mouths, the twins casually roasted Felt before walking over to the young woman. Then they took her trembling hands and tried to escort her to the parlor.

“Uhh, wait, before you take her… You. What’s your name?”

“”

“Your name, girl, your name. Your kid has one. Don’t you have one, too? Everybody does…”

While Felt demanded she speak, the young woman pointed at her throat. Then she slowly shook her head and looked down. I can’t speak—that’s what she was signaling.

“When we asked about her wound and said we needed to talk to her, she looked scared. Think she mistook us for assassins at first,” Lachins told Felt as the young woman disappeared into the parlor.

“Of course she would.” Felt nodded in understanding. “No matter how ya slice it, you guys don’t look like you work in the Sword Saint’s mansion… But thanks for finding her, guys. You really pulled through for me.”

“Heh!”

For a moment, Lachins was dazed by Felt’s sincere praise. But a smirk quickly filled his face. Gaston and Camberley donned the same smug expression behind him.

And as for the character who was completely absent from the scene from start to finish—

Felt spun around and asked him, “So why’re you making that dumb face? It’s not like you.”

Reinhard answered hesitantly. “……To be honest, I’m stunned.”

The young woman’s grand entrance, the idiot trio’s stroke of genius, the twins’ swift work—everything had left Reinhard speechless. Apparently, seeing all this had given him a rare shock.

“See? Thugs from the slums can bring it when they have to, huh?”

“”

“Then again, I was just as surprised by all this as you,” Felt admitted. “Anyway, just remember, sometimes other people are more useful than you. Not as omnipotent as ya thought, eh, Sword Saint?”

Felt clasped her hands behind her head and shot Reinhard a devilish grin from the depths of her soul. With a short sigh, Reinhard said, “Yes, of course. However, can we really be certain that young woman is Ilya’s mother? If she can’t speak, she can’t answer any of our questions. We will need to obtain—”

“Proof, right? Sure, proof. Easy-peasy,” Felt said, callously waving off Reinhard’s needless worries with a wink. “We’ll just have her see Ilya. Then we’ll know right away.”

9

“Aaah.”

As Reinhard watched Ilya sigh contentedly in her mother’s arms, he graciously admitted defeat.

“Oh, I hardly feel defeated,” he insisted. “Ilya is safe in her mother’s arms again. It is an unexpected joy. A victory for us all—rather, a victory for Ilya.”

“Enough with the pretty words already! You’re makin’ me regret the fact that I can hear… Anyway, now that’s made things clear.”

The woman sitting on the sofa in the center of the parlor was Ilya’s mother. The tender look in their mutual gaze confirmed that. There was no longer any room for doubt.

“She loves her baby so deeply. I see now that there’s no way she could have abandoned her…,” Reinhard remarked.

“She’s also a beauty.” “Yes, a very important point.” “I’d gladly date an older woman.”

Felt couldn’t help feeling that the idiot trio’s remarks greatly cheapened Reinhard’s sentiment.

The three mood killers shrank back under the twins’ judgmental gaze. Felt snorted at the sight, then turned back to Reinhard. He respectfully bowed his head to her and said, “Fear not, my lady. I am your knight. My loyalty shall never falter.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth—I’m not worried. Anyway, it’s Ilya and her mother you should be worried about right now, not me.”

If the young mother came to the Sword Saint for help, answering her wish was indeed the best choice.

The young mother’s wound had been treated, and she had calmed down. Ordinarily, this was where the party would have asked her how she was wounded and who had put her and Ilya in danger…

“If it turns out her husband was beating his wife and child, our job’ll be easy,” Felt said.

“How could that possibly be easy? I cannot imagine a bigger tragedy in this world,” Reinhard protested.

“Hey, I’m not sayin’ I want her to come from a broken home,” Felt said with a shrug. “I’m just sayin’ it’d be easier to resolve.”

What she meant was that if the family were confined to a father, mother, and child, the problem would be fairly straightforward. There would be only one scumbag to smite. However—

“The Black Silver Coin is wrapped up in all this. Better to assume it won’t be so easy,” Felt said, sighing.

“What?! The Black Silver Coin?!”

When the trio heard the news Felt and Reinhard had obtained while they were out searching for Ilya’s mother, they howled in shock. Felt explained in brief to the trio what had happened. That an assassin came for Ilya and that the assassin was working for the Black Silver Coin.

And when the trio heard the news, they muttered, “This ain’t funny…” as their faces drained of color.

“Felt—the Black Silver Coin is the head of the mobs in the five great cities. The head!”

“They show no mercy to anyone who crosses them!”

“Anyone who does winds up sleepin’ with the fishes!”

The three implored her to consider that they were in over their heads. Felt nodded, then roughly messed up her blond hair and said, “When your enemy is crazy-big, you’ve gotta do something crazy-big if you wanna get anywhere.”

“That’s your takeaway?!”

But not even the three stooges’ combined outrage could sway Felt.

“If you need me to cut a path through the enemy, I would gladly lay down my life in the line of duty—”

“This ain’t that kinda problem, dude.”

“Yes, my lady. I am painfully aware.”

If this was a situation that could be overcome by brute force, Felt could think of nobody more qualified than Reinhard. But reality would not make it so easy for them. That was the main issue at hand.

“Huh?”

Then Felt looked up from her thoughts, sensing a pair of eyes on her. It was none other than Ilya’s mother, holding her daughter close. Her green eyes were filled with fear and hope—and bewilderment. And the reason behind her conflicting emotions was—

“You wanna know why we’re botherin’ to help ya?” Felt asked the woman, who nodded in turn. “Don’t get it twisted. We’re not…well, at the very least, I’m not tryin’ to help ya. If there’s anyone I’m helpin’, it’s Ilya.”

“”

“I mean, we had to deal with her cryin’ every day and night for days. I’m so sleep-deprived, I’m about to explode. I always thought I’d show no mercy if I ever found her parents…but then we found her mother, and she came with some pesky baggage. I’m gettin’ real tired of all this crap.”

Felt’s tone was so harsh, the young mother’s cheeks tightened, fearful for what she might say to her next. But Ilya reached her little hands out to Felt from her mother’s arms, smiling and carefree.

“Well, shit…”

The sight instantly curbed Felt. Unlike her mother, Ilya was used to Felt’s outbursts.

After all, Felt was constantly letting all the anger pent up in her small frame fly free and shouting.

“I’ve been really pissed off… So I won’t feel better until I’ve given the one who did this to me a piece of my mind. And you…? How do you feel?”

The young woman pointed at herself with bewildered wide eyes.

“You abandoned your baby and tried to lure her assassins away, right? Aren’t ya pissed that you had to go so far just to protect her? Aren’t ya pissed that you had to be on the run all this time?”

“”

“Do you want Ilya to grow up hearing her mom was the poster child of losers?”

“!”

It was the provoking tone in Felt’s voice that finally got a reaction out of the young mother. Her cheeks reddened, and her eyes opened wide. Her arms around Ilya were gentle, but everything else about her was tense and strained.

I don’t want that for my daughter. She said it not with her voice but with her entire body.

Felt smirked at the sight of this and said, “Hey, twins! Paper and pen, please!”

“Here is some paper.” “And here is a pen.”

Felt’s outstretched hands were quickly filled by Flam and Grassis. Taking the pen and paper, Felt shoved them at the woman. “Write some names. Ilya’s mother and Ilya’s father—both, please.”

“”

“Everybody reaches a crossroads in their life at least once. A moment to make a choice. This is your moment.”

The woman closed her eyes. Then when she opened them, she handed Ilya to Reinhard. He gently took the baby and held his breath. And as everyone watched, the woman ran the pen along the paper. Under the mother’s name, she wrote “Kalifa.” And under the father’s name—

“Doltero. So that’s the father’s name.”

“Nooo!!!”

The moment she read the name, the idiot trio broke behind her. They were shrieking like babies, grabbing one another’s hands, and fiercely shaking their heads in protest.

“What gives?! Don’t you guys ever shut up?! You tryna lose all that respect I just gained for you?!”

“Fine, lose it! Whatever! But Doltero? Are you stupid?! That’s the boss of the Black Silver Coin! Oooh, wait! It could just be someone with the same name! Phew, don’t scare me like that!”

The revelation was so devastating that the trio were desperate to avoid reality staring at them in the face. But the young mother—Kalifa—added the surname after Doltero.

“Doltero Amule—that’s his name,” Felt informed them.

With no means of escaping the truth this time, the trio sank to their knees. Evidently, the full name matched that of the boss of the Black Silver Coin.

“In other words, Ilya is the heir of the boss of the Black Silver Coin…,” Reinhard murmured.

“That explains why she’s a target… Wait a minute, isn’t somethin’ fishy here?” Felt asked.

There was nothing strange about Black Silver Coin henchmen trying to retrieve the boss’s daughter. But his daughter’s mother, Kalifa, was probably his lover or mistress. Regardless of the terminology, the fact remained that she had determined she was in danger and escaped.

But that seemed to be the complete opposite intention of someone who wanted to bring her back.

“If the people after you weren’t from the Black Silver Coin, this would make sense,” Felt said. “But the guy we tied up said he works for the Black Silver Coin. How does that make any sense? Why…?”

“”

“Why didn’t you ask the Black Silver Coin boss for help?” she asked Kalifa.

If his lover and daughter were in danger, a crime boss would not stay silent. And Kalifa would have presumably sought out his protection for the sake of keeping Ilya safe. That was the obvious choice.

And yet she hadn’t done that—or there was a reason she couldn’t.

“Things’ve gotten real fishy here,” Felt mused. “I’d love to go beat the shit out of that Doltero guy right now…”

“I understand how you feel, Lady Felt, but that won’t be so easy. We’re dealing with the Black Silver Coin and their leader. A direct confrontation would require quite a bit of planni—”

“Were you guys talking about Doltero?”

Just then, an old, wrinkled voice butted into the conversation, turning every head in the parlor. And there was Old Man Rom, back from his visit with an old acquaintance.

“Old Man Rom…you’re back!”

“Yep, just got here. So why are we talking about Doltero? And who’s the girl…?” Scratching his bald head, Rom raised an eyebrow at the strange girl.

The scene was certainly an odd one. All the residents of the mansion were gathered in one room, each with a grim expression on their face. The three stooges who had worked hard for once, the twins, holding up pieces of paper with names written on them, Reinhard holding a baby, and Felt sitting cross-legged on the sofa—after Rom took it all in, he nodded deeply in understanding.

“I take it you made some progress. So what does Doltero have to do with it?”

“I’ve got a question for you, too, Old Man Rom, and if you can answer it, you’re the best,” Felt said, jumping off the sofa and eagerly running over to Rom. She then looked up into his old eyes and asked, “Old Man Rom, do you know Doltero of the Black Silver Coin?”

Rom closed an eye. “Know ’im? He’s the guy I just visited.”

“Yay!” Felt literally jumped into his arms for joy.

“Whoa there!” Rom grunted, quickly catching her. “What’s your deal?” he said, sighing.

“That’s the best news ever, Old Man Rom! You really are my savior, every time!”

“That’s some high praise, but can you finally explain to me what’s goin’ on?” As he held Felt in his arms, Rom looked at Reinhard, prompting the knight to fill him in.

Ilya shook slightly in Reinhard’s arms. “Lady Felt.”

“Oh, didn’t ya hear? We got all the important pieces of the puzzle now. All that’s left is to put the pieces together and see what picture we’ve got. So let’s all work together and get it done!”

Felt’s red eyes sparkled, a satisfied smile on her face. Reinhard bowed respectfully to her, then said, “Lady Felt—I see Rom is holding you the same way I’m holding Ilya right now.”

“Grah! Shut your face and get ready!”

10

“”

A strange sense of déjà vu filled Felt as she tasted the tension in the air. The suffocating sensation that filled the large room was coming from the bizarre pressure spreading through it. The walls were thick, the lights were dim, and the rugged furniture seemed to be intentionally intimidating. The room was clearly designed to receive guests, yet there were no chairs for anyone to sit in—that was what clued Felt in to what this room reminded her of.

The royal castle.

The painful atmosphere of this room reminded her of the stage she was forced to stand on at the Royal Selection.

“In other words, we’re surrounded by enemies,” she said. “That’s exactly the same as last time… Then again, I came here on my own two feet this time. That alone makes the whole thing feel much better.”

“Rest at ease, Lady Felt. No matter what happens, I shall protect you and everyone in this room. And if that requires swooping you off the ground, I’d prefer it if you refrained from shrieking in protest.”

“Yeah, you breathing down my neck is giving me déjà vu, too.”

With a snort at Reinhard’s trademark pledge of loyalty, Felt leisurely crossed her arms. And Reinhard grinned at Felt’s trademark huffy response. From the way they exchanged these now familiar quips, one could say they were made of harder stuff than most.

They were standing in a room of a mansion in a prime location in Flanders—belonging to Doltero Amule. In other words, they were in the heart of the Black Silver Coin.

It need not be stated that most guests would be turned away at the gate upon sight. But that night, Felt and her party were escorted inside and given an underworld-style welcome.

And this was thanks to—

“So sorry to have kept you all waiting.”

The door to the giant room opened, and they were greeted by an icy voice and a stern bow. In walked a lean man in a black suit. He exuded an aura as hard as nails, and his snakelike eyes gave him a distinguished look.

The snake-eyed man stood in the middle of the room, glanced at Rom standing behind Felt and Reinhard, and said, “The boss will see you now… Cromwell, just this once.”

“Thanks, Serfis. I owe ya one. Besides, we’re bringing your boss a bargain.”

“Hah.”

Rom called the snake-eyed man Serfis. His snake eyes turned toward Felt’s party’s companions, Kalifa with Ilya in her arms. His impression of the mother and child lurking behind his icy gaze was inscrutable.

And any answer he might have given was obscured from everyone by the sound of the big door creaking once again.

The moment the man appeared, the air in the room felt twice as heavy as before. If the air were a flavor, it would be bitter. If it were a color, black. If it were a sound, a rumble. The overpowering air filled the room as the man heavily lowered himself into the one chair set at the very back of the room.

The man’s glittering golden hair was tied back, and his eyes were a deep blue. Those features in isolation were the spitting image of Ilya. However—in all his other features, there was a great difference.

For this man’s outward appearance was anything but that of an ordinary human.

“Whoa, you a demi-human?” Felt asked.

“Indeed. But why is blood important here, human girl?”

Felt snuck a peek at Ilya sleeping soundly in Kalifa’s arms, then replied, “Meh? It’s not, really. Though I’m kinda glad you didn’t pass on too much of your blood.”

The man grunted deeply in reply. “That’s some brazen honesty you’ve got there, girl. Though I do agree with you.”

After giving her rude response an unexpected endorsement, the man playfully tapped his nose—a pig’s snout, rather—and smirked in amusement. At a glance, it was clear he was a pigman.

Doltero Amule, the Pig King—the outward appearance and dignity that title implied—was on full display.

“So now that we understand each other, I’d like to get the ball rollin’ here… You know why we bothered comin’ all the way out here, right?” Felt asked him.

“Of course I do—” With a heavy nod at Felt’s question, Doltero called the silent woman’s name, “Kalifa.”

Kalifa’s cheeks tensed, but she bravely looked at the man. They were man and woman, father and mother. The complicated feelings embodied in the gaze that passed between them were, to everyone besides them, beyond comprehension.

“Why did you run away?”

Kalifa did not answer his question.

It was impossible for her to speak. Both because of the state of her throat and because of how painful it was to leave her daughter in the Sword Saint’s care and then lure the assassins away herself.

And there was only one reason Kalifa could have felt forced to make such a decision.

“You ran away with Ilya. I sent someone after you, but they said you weren’t coming back. I thought I’d never have the chance to ask you, but now that you’re back, tell me.”

To Kalifa, who couldn’t speak, Doltero’s question was cruel. And from her body language, the hidden circumstances were starting to be visible—the circumstances surrounding the old Pig King Doltero.

“Why did you run? Why did you bring the Sword Saint back with you?”

“Please, don’t blame her for running away,” Reinhard answered for her. “It was her only recourse. Her life and the life of her daughter were in danger, and the first place she could seek help was Astrea Manor. That’s all there is to it.” Eyeing the sleeping baby in her mother’s arms, he continued, “Knowing her own life might be forfeit, she entrusted her daughter to us. That was why she left you.”

“Ridiculous—her life was in danger, so she ran? Then why did she ask you lot for help? If she was in any danger, she should have come to me first. I—”

“Don’t be stupid, king of the mountain,” Felt butted in. “Can she really trust a guy who can’t even see what’s going on right under his nose? That’s why your woman and your kid left you.”

Felt’s provocation filled the air with tremendous rage. But not from Doltero, the slandered—

“I would choose your words wisely, little girl. Have you forgotten you are standing in the home of the Black Silver Coin? You may be our guests, but there is a line… I recommend you not cross it.”

With an icy voice and a piercing stare that could turn air to ice, the man who snapped back at Felt with a snake-eyed glare was Serfis. Standing in the corner of the room, he was the sole member of the Black Silver Coin that Doltero permitted to attend the meeting. That proved just how trusted he was.

“Do you believe the Sword Saint’s presence absolves you of any danger? If so, you underestimate us. We have our own way of conducting business. How you fail to—”

“Whoa, this your idea of a joke? You think I’m some spineless brat who can’t pick a fight without her guardian there to wipe her ass? Him being here’s got nothin’ to do with it,” Felt cursed, pointing sharply at Reinhard. “Besides, aren’t you ashamed of yourself, talkin’ out your ass like that? You’re one evil snake.”

“…What in the world are you talking about? I don’t appreciate the baseless accusations.”

“That so? Well, from where I’m standin’, I’d love to give that act of yours a standing ovation.”

As a deep crease formed between Serfis’s white brows, Felt praised his craft. And as his subordinate and guest walked a diplomatic tightrope, Doltero’s bony hand brushed against his snout in thought. And as his friend pondered, Rom spoke up from behind him. The wise old man, who had been observing the exchange from behind Felt and Reinhard all this time, lowered his eyes and said:

“If this mother and child are in danger, Doltero, there’s no way it doesn’t involve you. They must be objects of envy, in the eyes of your enemies. But she didn’t ask you for help, and I doubt it’s ’cause she didn’t want to trouble ya. Which means the real reason has to be…”

“…because she can’t rely on the Black Silver Coin to protect her.” Doltero’s blue eyes glowed as he finished Rom’s sentence.

If the head of the crime organization that ruled over Flanders’s underworld had a weakness that could lead to his downfall, any enemy of his would salivate. There was no rule that this “enemy” had to be someone outside the organization.

If the boss fell, somebody within the organization could benefit, too.

“Serfis—you’re the only one I confided in about Ilya being my daughter…correct?”

The deep rumble in Doltero’s voice pressed heavily upon Serfis, his right-hand man. The snake-eyed man looked his boss dead in the eye. Doltero saw no hesitation or confusion in his subordinate’s eyes, nor could he find any trace of anger or desire to make things right.

“If the Black Silver Coin was targeting her, Kalifa’s only choice would be to take our daughter and run. And you are the only one who knew they were my weakness. Isn’t there something you’d like to say to me?”

It was not an invitation to give an excuse, but a merciful offer to hear his last words.

Betrayed by his most trusted subordinate surely left Doltero feeling prickly. And Felt subconsciously held her breath, feeling everything hitting a little too close to home.

After a few moments, Serfis rubbed his dark green hair and answered the Pig King, “It’s all true—nothing to correct, boss.”

“I had high hopes for you. You were one of our group’s earliest loyalists. I thought the same was still true now,” Doltero spat out, a deep anguish in his voice.

In reponse, Serfis laughed—a bitter laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Doltero demanded.

“Your judgment was not wrong, boss. I am still loyal to this organization—to you. I swear on my life that I remain faithful to you and this organization. There is no falsehood in my statement.”

“Uh—what? The hell’re you sayin’?” Felt seemed unamused by Serfis’s strange attempts to backpedal after admitting to his own treachery.

If he was trying to make amends, this would not help. How could he claim loyalty when he had just admitted to the highest betrayal?

“That woman and child are your boss’s weakness. I’m sure you were gonna exploit it to take over the organization,” Felt said. “And what, you really think that flimsy excuse will work after everything?”

“Correction—only part of what you just said was true. Yes, the boss’s weakness is the mother and child. For the security of this organization and its boss, that mother and child were a serious problem. That much is true.”

Felt’s face twisted dramatically in disbelief over what she had just heard. As a giant question mark filled her empty head, Rom nodded deeply in understanding beside her.

“If you really are the man I think you are, you would never incite a rebellion. Now, as to why you schemed up something so outrageous…Serfis, I think your loyalty went too far.”

Serfis stood tall and answered in agreement. “I owed a debt to my boss, and I swore my loyalty to the organization. I entrusted my life and my pride to this place. I don’t own a thing I would call my own. It’s my duty to eliminate any threats to the Black Silver Coin’s security.”

Then Serfis dropped to a knee, waved his arm, and like magic, a dagger appeared in the palm of his hand. “Boss! I am prepared to pay for my disloyalty with my life. But as you behold my corpse, I implore you to consider what it means to keep young Ilya by your side!”

“Shit! Reinhar—!”

Felt barked at her knight to stop Serfis. But before he could act, the blade swiftly raced toward the skin of the man’s thin neck—and then a storm surged through the room.

There was a shock wave, followed by the delayed boom of something hard hitting flesh. Felt looked up to see what had happened and was surprised to discover that Serfis was not lying in a pool of blood.

The man had received a punch to the face and was splayed against the wall, his eyes rolled back. And as for the one who had knocked him out with one punch—

“—The Pig King still lives up to his name.”

“If that were true, I wouldn’t have let Serfis get away with something so foolish.”

Despite the pigman’s large frame, rivaling Rom the giant in size, he had moved with explosive speed. The Pig King looked down at his knocked-out subordinate, then slowly turned around.

His quiet blue eyes beheld Kalifa and Ilya. The latter’s face twisted a little at the tremendous sound, but she was still in a peaceful slumber.

“Dang…she’s a queen,” Felt remarked.

“Yeah, she sleeps through anything. Probably got that from her father.”

Doltero’s lips twitched into a self-deprecating smile over how soft he was with his subordinate. But that sentiment was fleeting.

“Boss! What was that noise…?”

The guards stationed outside the great door in wait ran into the room. They took one look at Serfis on the floor, then at Doltero’s raised fist…and could do little to hide their shock.

“B-Boss…what did you do to Serfis?”

“Keep cool, we’ve got guests. Take Serfis away. He and I still have to talk. Patch him up so he won’t die.”

With a command to his distraught underlings, Doltero elaborated no further. And they asked no more questions as they hoisted Serfis over their shoulders and rushed him out of the room.

After they were gone, Doltero trotted on heavy feet back to his seat and sat down. As he folded his thick arms and rested his elbows on the armrests, Doltero—the Pig King—turned his gaze on Felt. When she saw the color in his eyes, the unpleasant sensation of somebody scratching her heart filled her chest.

And the source of that unpleasantness was—

“Thanks for troubling yourself to help me, Royal Selection candidate. However—your efforts were in vain.”

“Huh?”

“I have no daughter. That’s why your efforts were in vain.”

For a moment, Felt’s mind went blank, not understanding what he had just said. Seeing the change in her expression, Doltero asked, “Don’t you get it? I’ve never seen that strange woman or baby in my life. Get them out of here. They disgust me.”

“You asshole…stop screwing around!”

The moment she realized his scheme, Felt bared her fangs and howled in anger. Doltero had heeded Serfis’s warning. He recognized that Kalifa and Ilya were a weakness. And so that nobody in his circle would become wise to that weakness, he was going to cut them out of his life.

This man was abandoning his lover and daughter.

—A parent was abandoning his child.

“I didn’t come here so you could cut Ilya out of your life!”

Felt had only come to chew him out. Why had it come to this?

“You’ve got a house, money, and power, right?! If you’re a parent, take care of your child! That’s the bare minimum! If you were gonna cast her aside when things got hard! Then why…why did you even have her in the first place…?”

“Felt.”

Right as Felt seemed ready to pounce, Rom’s large hands clamped on her shoulders from behind. As Felt’s red eyes burned with rage, Rom gazed calmly at her and shook his head. He wasn’t telling her to accept defeat. The wise old man was telling Felt to withdraw. And though his pacifism covered Felt’s heart with a blanket of fury—

“……Yeah, you’re right. I get it… I get it, okay?!”

Her anger quickly simmered down, and Felt’s fists unclenched with a grumbled curse under her breath. The rage in her eyes was now gone as she looked at Doltero. All that remained was despair…and contempt.

“She’s better off without a shitty parent like you. That’s what I think.”

If a parent didn’t have the backbone to protect his child, his child was much better off without him. As somebody who was also abandoned by her parents, Felt empathized deeply with Ilya. And now she needed to get Ilya away from this man as quickly as possible.

There would be no happiness for Ilya in this place. Not a single thing in her father’s world belonged in her life. Spitting out a final curse at the pigman, Felt roughly grabbed Kalifa’s arm to drag her away.

“Lady Felt,” Reinhard called out from behind her.

She angrily looked up at him, her red eyes clashing with his quiet blue ones. Felt waited, expecting him to say something more. But Reinhard’s lips trembled…

He had no words.

Not even the knight among knights—not even the Sword Saint—could find the words.

“……We’re going.” Felt silenced Reinhard with a gruff nod.

Reinhard’s eyelids lowered as he turned to follow behind her in silence.

“Thanks for the help, Royal Selection candidate.”

“……Was that sarcastic? I didn’t help you, scum. I don’t ever wanna see your ugly face again. I hope our paths never cross.”

Felt rejected Doltero’s casual good-byes without even looking over her shoulder. She tugged on Kalifa’s arm again, to take her and Ilya away.

“”

Just before they left the room, Kalifa paused, turned back to Doltero, and bowed her head. To show him the sleeping baby in her arms once last time.

On the way out, Rom offered Doltero one final piece of advice. “……Trust me. You’ll regret this someday.”

“No. I won’t.” Doltero’s answer was firm, leaving no room for argument.

Rom sighed and left the room.

And once all the guests had left and Doltero was alone in the room, he pressed his hands to his face. He stared into his wrinkled hands and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Ilya…”

His voice was swallowed by the emptiness, heard by no one.

11

“So I never got to do the cathartic ass-kicking I thought I’d get…”

After the danger had passed and the party had returned from Flanders to Astrea Manor, Felt stood in the overgrown garden, scratched her head, and let out a sigh.

The words exchanged in the headquarters of the Black Silver Coin had become truth—there was nothing tying Doltero to Ilya.

They were unrelated strangers. Ilya was now a free baby without a father. And thanks to that, the mother and child were no longer in danger, and all was well. Simply by severing one thread connecting lives, it was almost like nothing had even happened.

“…Still, a part of me feels like we have unfinished business,” Reinhard murmured beside Felt, echoing her internal musings.

Reinhard and Felt were alone in the garden. Ordinarily, she detested his company, but she let it slide that time. In that moment, she needed to talk to somebody. Even Reinhard would do.

“You’re at least slightly better than talking to a wall,” she said.

“I’m honored that you would open up your heart to me, Lady Felt.”

“Could you please stop wording things in a way that pisses me off? ……Hey, Reinhard.”

After the exasperation faded from her face, Felt looked up at Reinhard and called his name. She remembered how he had called her name to stop her, just at the end of her confrontation with Doltero. But Reinhard had said nothing then, and Felt had said nothing back to him.

Either there was no answer to give in that moment or Felt or Reinhard simply couldn’t find it. Either way, she was remembering how she’d had no words of encouragement for him.

“Y’know…I’ve got no parents, and you’ve got your fair share of family drama, too. Just sayin’, since we’ve both got dysfunctional families, that whole ordeal was probably a lot for us to handle.”

Reinhard smiled uncomfortably. “……When you put it bluntly like that, I’m not sure how I should answer.”

Felt knew a little about Reinhard’s complicated family history. When he was little, his mother fell into a deep sleep from a mysterious illness and never woke up. Meanwhile, to say his father had a rotten personality was putting it charitably. Put less charitably, he was an absolute scumbag.

Between Reinhard’s shaky family history and Felt being abandoned by her birth parents and raised in the slums by Rom, “dysfunctional family history” was the perfect expression for them both.

“You may be a matchless Sword Saint, but if you’re up against an enemy you can’t defeat with violence, you’re surprisingly helpless. Think maybe it’s time to reconsider your title of knight?”

“I agree, my performance in this matter was disappointing. And I deeply regret my unworthiness as a knight causing you so much trouble—”

“Wow, don’t take me seriously, idiot. I was joking,” she snapped. “Then again, I’m not exactly satisfied by your performance, either. I ain’t satisfied…but I guess I’m okay with havin’ ya as my knight for now.”

Felt plopped down onto the greenery growing unchecked in the garden. Reinhard’s expected lecture about dirtying her dress didn’t materialize this time. The pair just sat together in silence, letting the breeze carrying the scent of the garden wash over them.

“…I wanted to punch him in the face, but I had to take a knee before I could even take my first step.”

“But that’s… Well, Lady Felt—”

“—So next time’ll be different.”

“Eh?”

Reinhard’s jaw dropped at the sight of Felt’s clenched fists. Giving his dazed face a disgruntled “What’s your problem?” Felt flipped herself over on the grass and weeds and peered up at Reinhard’s upside-down face.

“Why’d ya grunt like a moron? Did I say something strange?”

“Not at all. I just thought you were feeling depressed…”

“Me? Depressed? Now wait just one damn minute…”

Felt righted herself and scooted backward on her butt to sit up cross-legged. She looked up at Reinhard standing over her, his face shaded against the blazing sun. And when she saw the shadow cast on her knight’s face, she nodded in realization.

“Ahhh, I’m not the one who’s depressed—it’s you, Reinhard.”

“Me…my lady?”

“Lack of self-awareness is a serious illness, my man. Well, then again, I doubt you’ve ever experienced defeat before.”

With a frustrated shake of her head, Felt stood up and dusted off her behind. Then she turned to her perplexed knight, thrust a fist toward his chest, then gave it a little poke.

“Ooh. Gotcha.”

“I didn’t think there was any need to dodge… I don’t mind if it’s you, Lady Felt.”

“I didn’t need that last part. Also, I’ve got a warning for ya—if you’re gonna be my knight, you’re gonna run headfirst into failures like this time and time again.”

“………”

“Whoa, don’t tell me you thought I was gonna breeze through every battle victorious and effortlessly ascend the throne?”

Felt’s declaration that they were going to lose sometimes amazed Reinhard. It was a flippant way of talking, but Felt was also pretty sure it was true. Reinhard surely never even considered defeat to be a possibility. This confidence came not from his trust in Felt, but from a tremendous sense of security in the path he walked.

He would never taste defeat—he was burdened by that brand of omnipotence.

But Felt made his life unpredictable. And this reality had been thrust upon him, right after the Royal Selection began. He had confusion over the gap between his ideals and reality, yet the man himself was unaware of this.

“Y’know, sometimes you really are like a kid. Makes me almost think Ilya’s more mature than you.”

“I…believe that’s a bit extreme.”

“Nahhh, I said what I said. I’m sure there’s tons of things you haven’t realized still. Need your diaper changed, widdle Weinhawd?”

“Lady Felt!”

Felt snorted at Reinhard’s slight outburst. She wasn’t trying to pick a fight. She just wanted him to be mentally prepared for what was to come.

“Reinhard, what exactly did you want to happen with Ilya anyway?”

“I wanted…for Ilya to return safely to her parents. The very premise of her parents abandoning her was a mistake. Kalifa and Doltero surely loved Ilya…”

“Kalifa, yes. But Doltero abandoned Ilya. He cut her off.”

Even Felt could comprehend a little what Doltero was thinking. His decision to distance himself from his child and her mother was not simply to protect the Black Silver Coin and his position in it.

“But even if your decision to abandon a baby tears you up inside, even if you did it for the baby’s safety, those reasons don’t mean anything to the one you abandoned.”

“”

“Once you go down that road, it’s too late to say you loved her. I’ll never forgive anyone who does that.”

The suppressed anger in Felt’s voice silenced Reinhard. Though his family situation was complicated, he had never been abandoned like Felt. He could not speak on Ilya’s experience the same way Felt could as a fellow abandoned child.

“……Agh, damn it! I didn’t wanna talk about this.” She sped up, embarrassment overtaking her. “I’m not tryin’ to be all woe is me because my parents were never around. I mean, that’s how I got to meet Rom.”

Felt didn’t know her parents’ names or faces. She didn’t know or care why they had abandoned her. If she had died as a result of it, she might have left a curse or two behind.

But luckily, Felt was rescued by the greatest man in the world.

“Blood doesn’t give you a choice in who’s related to you. I care way more about the family I chose for myself. And since Ilya lost her dad, now she can choose her own family, too.”

If Reinhard’s theory was correct, Felt’s birth parents were part of the royal family of Lugunica. But everyone in the royal family was dead. This meant she could never talk to them, but it was no reason for her to deny that they were related. And even if they did survive the mysterious plague, she still didn’t ever want to see them.

Not for a negative reason but for a positive one.

She had found her own family. She was happy. So she had no reason to meet her birth parents. Nothing more, nothing less.

“I don’t know what was on that pig bastard’s mind, and I don’t want Ilya to ever know, either,” she growled.

“But what if Ilya wishes to meet her father someday?”

“Then Ilya can make that decision when she grows up. And if I lose my mind about it, she can ignore me and do whatever she wants.”

At the end of the day, it wasn’t Felt’s place to interfere, even if she had no intention of saying it out loud. Ilya’s life was hers to live as she saw fit.

Doltero’s thoughts, Kalifa’s hopes for her daughter—none of those things mattered to Felt. And how Ilya chose to deal with all this was not for Felt to decide.

All Felt needed to think about was how to give Ilya the best chance at a good life. This left Reinhard speechless once again. But not out of surprise or bewilderment.…

He nodded approvingly to himself over and over.

“I am honored, Lady Felt.”

“……Huh? About what? Don’t go all gooey on me, you’re makin’ me sick.”

“You just said that the choices you made matter very much to you, correct?”

“Y-yeah…sure. I think so, at least…”

When Felt nodded timidly, without any sign of denying Reinhard’s claim, he smiled faintly, then pressed an open palm to his chest and said, “I am your knight because you chose me, Lady Felt. I’m just appreciating this fact…”

“Mmf—?! Don’t twist my words, asshole! Also, when did I choose you?! You basically forced me to!”

“But I asked you to make a choice, Lady Felt. And though you were reluctant, you still chose me. Of that, I am very proud.”

“Grr-grr-grr…!” Felt grunted, red in the face over her knight’s relentless retorts.

But as he teased her, she sensed his usual confidence was returning. The gloom had left him a little.

“…Humph! Well, your mistress just declared you’re gonna fail again and again. Are you sure you won’t eventually rue the day you became my knight?”

“That will never happen. Our time with Ilya and Kalifa made that very clear.”

Ilya and Kalifa severed ties with Doltero and returned to the mansion with Felt and her party. Though they were no longer the target of assassins, the lone mother and child had a difficult life ahead of them with nobody to rely on. Though they had only been in Felt’s reluctant care for a few days, if they were turned out onto the streets, Felt would not be able to sleep at night.

“You secured them livelihood as ranch hands,” Reinhard reminded her.

“You were the one who put in a good word for them. I didn’t do anything.”

“Then what about the money you gave them to cover their immediate expenses?” Reinhard smiled, playfully leaving Felt no room to play dumb.

A look of utter disgust filled Felt’s face. It was true; Felt had given Kalifa some money to get back on her feet. It was some money Felt had, at one time, planned to use to get out of the slums. When she got out in a totally different and unexpected way, both her plan and her funds ended up collecting dust.

“I want Ilya to have a happy life, too,” Reinhard said to Felt’s spitefully turned back.

This sounded for some reason like a fleeting hope, which made Felt feel strange all over.

“We can see ’em whenever we want, idiot,” Felt sassed. “It’s not like they’re moving far away.”

“Yes, that’s true,” Reinhard answered with a smile.

The pair always reverted to this dynamic. But Felt did not notice how she was starting to enjoy it. Her eyes simply focused on the wild garden before her, and to break the uncomfortable silence, she said, “Totally unrelated, but this garden! Don’t people talk about how neglected it is?”

“This used to be filled with large flower beds. My grandmother liked them. But once my family stopped coming here, the land grew wild…until it became what you see right now.”

Felt crouched down and parted the greenery, finding the remains of rectangular bricks peeking out from beneath. These must have been the original flower beds. Though there was hardly any trace of them anymore…

“—Why do you think flowers wither away? Why don’t they just keep blooming forever?”

There was an unexpected sadness in Reinhard’s voice as he stared at where the flower beds once stood. Felt cocked her head and ruminated on those words. But she quickly righted her head and said, “Dunno. Maybe because they want attention? If they always bloomed no matter what, we’d probably stop taking care of ’em. That’s why they keep blooming and withering all the time. Just like Ilya.”

Felt’s answer left Reinhard speechless. She scratched her cheek, realizing that she had probably soured his mood.

“Lady Felt—do you like flowers?”

Which was why she was slow to react when he suddenly asked her this. She touched the bricks buried in the earth and answered, “Nope. I don’t…”

“………”

“…Or so I thought, but y’know, I never had much time to look at flowers, so I don’t really know if I like ’em or not. I guess it’s neither.”

Just as this apathetic answer escaped her lips, Felt suddenly got an idea. Before them sprawled a sea of withered flower beds. How they existed in Reinhard’s memories aside, now they were empty. And so—

“You should plant some flowers here,” Felt told Reinhard. “Then I’ll decide whether I like flowers or not.”

“Me…plant flowers?”

“If you want me to say I like flowers, then make a bunch of pretty flowers bloom here. But until you do, my lips are sealed.”

Standing tall, Felt hurled her random idea at Reinhard and worded it as an order. Just the thought of her dignified knight tilling the soil at her command made Felt chuckle. And this would improve the mansion’s overall appearance; it was the perfect idea.

And as Reinhard stood there, dumbfounded by the unexpected command…

“Wait, is that a twinkle in your eye?” Felt demanded.

“No…well, yes. You see…I’ve never gardened before.”

Felt’s eyes widened at Reinhard’s nervous admission of inexperience. Then she flashed a toothy grin. “Hah! Well, you’ve got a lot of failing to look forward to, then. Oh, but that doesn’t mean you’re gonna win in the end. Don’t get it twisted.”

“Yes, Lady Felt,” he assented with a smile.

Felt gave his chest another jab, which he once again did not dodge. Noting this, Felt rose to her feet.

She looked to the mansion just in time to see Kalifa emerge from the front door. The idiot trio was following close behind, carrying her belongings and making eyes at the timid young woman.

For the past few days, the trio were tasked with acquiring everything Kalifa and Ilya would need for their new life at the ranch and to deliver it… They seemed pleased with their job.

Meanwhile, Flam and Grassis (who had done all the actual work procuring the items) looked upon the three stooges with open disdain as Rom gently patted their heads.

This irked Felt a little, but when her eyes met with the baby slung over Kalifa’s back, her anger quickly subsided. Ilya’s blue eyes watched Felt and Reinhard stand in the garden; then she smiled and waved her little hand good-bye.

Have a happy life—that was Reinhard’s wish for her.

Felt had the same wish, and she knew how to make it come true. So she decided to give a loud parting word of advice to the girl who shared her circumstances.

She opened her mouth and yelled, “Ilya! Live strong!”

PRIDE, PREJUDICE, AND ZOMBIES

Original Publication: Monthly Comic Alive, Vol. 152, 153

1

The boy was running for his life across the mountain.

Gasping for air, his entire body dripping with sweat, with complete disregard for appearances, he just kept running along the dark path, unaware of the little red cuts the branches and twigs were making on his cheeks and neck.

He was desperate. He was running faster than he ever had before.

He had to—if he slowed down, he’d be caught. He had abandoned everything to flee from his pursuer.

From the familiar face…and the unfamiliar thing on it.

“Shit… Shit…!”

The boy’s pitiful emotions spilled as he ran, bitter tears pooling at the corners of his eyes. In his mind, visions of his dear hometown returned to him—memories of the place he left behind.

It was nothing but farmland. He never liked it there. But he ran away when he was fifteen. After, he traveled from place to place, working hard and steadily building experience as he became a man. He eventually found a place to settle down for a time, and that was when images of his hometown surfaced in his mind.

His parents, who opposed him leaving; his siblings, who helped him sneak out; his old friend who cried when she said good-bye.

After so long away from home, he wasn’t sure how he could face any of them again, but work was going well for him. So he decided to lean into it, and he made a triumphant return several years later.

And now that same young man was rushing over the dark mountain, tasting blood deep in the back of his throat as he ran.

How did this happen to him? What should he do now?

Only one thing was clear. That place…that land…his home… He couldn’t leave it the way it was.

His family…his siblings…his friend… He couldn’t leave them in such a terrible state—

“Somebody…somebody, please…!”

One thought kept the young man running—he must do something.

Dreaming of the sun’s warm touch, the man kept running.

2

Sun Princess of the Bariel Barony.

Priscilla Bariel’s subjects honored her with this name due to her disposition, abilities, and beauty that was as dazzling as her namesake.

Lyp, the former baron of the Bariel domain, had been incredibly cruel to his people. He was Priscilla’s husband who died before the Royal Selection began. He was not without merit, but ultimately, he was a heartless old man who regarded empathy as a character flaw.

Because of this, when Priscilla took over the barony after his death, the destitute peasants saw her as a messiah—like a bright sun, bringing light to the darkness.

And that was why, as a sign of affection and loyalty, they revered her as the Sun Princess.

“If you ask me—when it comes to lacking empathy, the princess and Lyp are like fifty-fifty,” a man muttered to himself as he leaned against the railing of the breezeway, looking down at the main entrance hall to the mansion.

He was a man who possessed a very bizarre and unique appearance. His muscular body was clad in crude light armor, and on his feet, he wore sandals called zori. His left arm was missing from the shoulder down. But what made him stand out even more than his one arm was the jet-black iron helmet that covered him from the neck up.

This man with eccentric clothing, a missing arm, and a helmet hiding his face was in Priscilla Bariel’s employ as her personal jester—and his name was Al.

At a glance, their relationship seemed somewhat degrading, but Al was rather fond of being called a jester. He would much rather keep that and ditch the title of Priscilla’s number one knight and all the attention that came with it.

It wasn’t because he didn’t like Priscilla. Al simply detested the title of knight. Knights were good for nothing.

“If anything, I’m more than happy to have the princess. I get to enjoy the view of Cleavage Valley without being yelled at.”

“There you go again—the mistress will be angry with you, you know?”

“Whoa-oa-oa!”

Al whirled around, interrupted from his personal musings by a mischievous voice. Standing behind him was a girl dressed in a maid’s uniform with primarily red and white livery—

“Oh, it’s you, Yae. Don’t listen in on a guy when he’s monologuing. That’s creepy.”

“You ought to apologize, for making me hear such awfully vulgar ideas.”

“I’m talking about the decency of the listener. As for the decency of the speaker, we’ll have to save that for another day.”

“Aaagh, Sir Al, you are so nonsensical…”

The girl squirming in disgust was Yae Tenzen—one of the attendants at Bariel Manor and a coworker of Al’s.

She was a beautiful young woman in her early twenties with fair skin, a slender frame, and her long hair tied back in a ponytail. Her eyes were fiercely playful, their catlike quality one of her most distinguishing characteristics.

Given that the oddity-loving Priscilla appointed her as grand chamberlain, she was undoubtedly a very strange person herself. For one thing, she had immediately accepted Al, bizarre appearance and all. The openness she exhibited around him gave a glimpse of this.

Having said that…

“The visitors downstairs—they’re all here for the princess, right? They never learn, do they?”

Al pointed to the downstairs hallway with his chin as he spoke. Below them was the scene Al had seen earlier—some peasants crowding the mansion and the servants trying to shove them away.

Ordinarily, a crowd of peasants pushing against the house of their fief lord would be the prelude to an uprising. However—

“They come bearing gifts and begging to catch a glimpse of our mistress…and she does not take their goodwill for granted. That is why I worship her, too, after all.”

Yae stood beside Al, boasting grandly as she beheld the scene below. And just as she said, the peasants gathered in the entrance hall below were there not for war but for worship. And the walls of the entrance hall were stacked with gifts, while pleas for an audience with Priscilla rang out with no end in sight.

Of course, giving the common people direct access to their ruler’s manor like this had the possibility of becoming very ugly, very quickly. This made it all the more critical to take great care in how they handled the visitors. However…

“So why are you not down there getting a handle on the situation, Grand Chamberlain? Aren’t ya supposed to put your life on the line to protect the name and safety of the princess you worship so dearly?”

“Well, they just keep coming! And yours truly doesn’t do work that’s above her pay grade. Besides, I want to give the younger maids a chance to grow, y’know?”

“I’m not sure which of those excuses is genuine, if any. What a cunning maid…”

The phrase talking out both sides of the mouth was made for Yae. As she unapologetically stuck out her tongue, Al put a hand to the visor of his helmet, playing with the fittings with a soft clang. He often assumed this posture when thinking, but lately, he had come to touch his helmet more often. Now that the Royal Selection had officially begun, Al was aware that he had become more anxious.

“Throwing people off their groove and messing with them is supposed to be my thing. Now my groove is all over the place, and nothing’s going my way.”

“Sir Al, outward appearances aside, you’re a pretty sincere person. Just like our mistress, I like it; you’re easy to talk to.”

“Don’t you mean, easy to mess with?”

“Huh? Is there a difference between the two?”

“The fact that you think they’re the same is scary as hell.”

As Yae cocked her head quizzically, Al shrugged and shook his head. He was just surprised that she would describe him as sincere, despite his appearance. As somebody who served Priscilla, it was difficult for him to take that as a compliment. The lady in red had a knack for discovering every good quality in a person, but the ability was very ephemeral and vague.

The moment she deemed Al a bore, it would not be at all surprising if she had his head lopped off.

“Well, I think you have too little faith in our mistress.”

“She freaks me out just the right amount, keeps me on my toes— Huh?”

Just after Yae read his innermost thoughts through his expressionless helmet, things suddenly got rowdy downstairs, bringing Al’s attention back to the entrance hall. It was a young man, jumping into the rows of peasants and pushing through them. Covered in sweat and dirt, he looked quite filthy.

The other peasants were dressed nicely for their visit to the baroness’s residence. They considered this the bare minimum, yet this young man had come in an unacceptable state. In other words…

“Unless this guy lacks brains or common sense…”

“He must be in a big hurry to deliver some very important news, yes…,” Yae casually answered, running a hand through her red hair as she watched closely.

Then, the next moment, the silly atmosphere vanished in a flash, and Al’s hand unconsciously floated up to his helmet. Then the seedy young man arrived at the maid’s feet, and he raised his voice in a desperate shout.

“I beg of you, let me see the baroness… My…my home…it’s full of the walking dead!!”

The man’s voice rang through the entrance hall, bringing the commotion to a screeching halt. And as everyone looked on, the man fell to his knees and began to weep, unable to hold it in any longer.

As she watched the young man break down, Yae stared at the tears rolling down his cheeks and said, “Well, well, well. That’s just the kind of cry for help our mistress loves.”

“……Guess I’ll go get the princess.”

With a final glance at Yae’s inscrutable smile, Al fidgeted with the fastener on his helmet, clinking and clacking.

3

“Four years ago, when I went back to my home village…that’s when it started. At first, I thought my family was standoffish with me because they hadn’t seen me in a while.”

The kneeling young man slowly began to explain what had brought him to the Bariel residence. They had moved from the entrance hall and into the large parlor that Priscilla had come to use for audiences with her people. The floor was draped in red carpet, and lining the walls to the left and right was the Crimson Battlefront, Priscilla’s house soldiers clad in blindingly bright red armor.

And deep in the intensely crimson audience chamber, a young woman in a gallant red dress sat atop an ornate chair. She—Priscilla Bariel—was the one in the mansion whom red suited the most.

Under Priscilla’s crimson gaze, the young man desperately groveled as he told her his sad story.

“The first thing I noticed that was wrong was the unnatural way people responded to me. People said a surprising number of things that didn’t match my memories, and conversations were full of inconsistencies…”

“Okay, so we can’t just write this off as forgetfulness. But a village of living corpses? That’s a stretch.”

The one who interrupted the young man’s story was the only person in the house not dressed in red—Al.

The Crimson Battlefront standing at attention, Grand Chamberlain Yae standing behind Priscilla at the ready, and the young attendant Schult—the boy with crimson-red eyes whom Priscilla took a liking to—everyone in the audience chamber had donned red.

Meanwhile, Al exemplified otherness. He was alien. The groveling man must have also had a similar impression of him, as he eyed Al warily and said, “O-of course, that wasn’t the only reason I reached that conclusion. I saw something…something unmistakable.”

“Something unmistakable, eh? So what did you see?”

“Well, I…”

The man’s face turned white as his eyes danced around the audience chamber. It was the look of a man terrified by his own memories. His parched lips opened and closed several times, unable to form the words. Or conceivably, his feelings for his homeland were on the brink of withering away along with his ability to speak.

“Don’t fall silent on me, foolish commoner.”

The shot was fired at the silent man by Priscilla, leaning on an elbow. His shoulders shook from the merciless tone of her voice, and his eyes filled with terror.

Priscilla eyed him with scorn. “If you let cowardice defeat you, then your foolish lips will never move again. It’s outrageous that you appeal to my mercy in such a manner. Keep your conceit in check.”

“Um…”

The fiery words, devoid of even a shred of kindness, burned the frightened young man’s heart white-hot. And in that moment, as a wild gale of wind burst through his heart and dyed it in the painful colors of despair, Al sympathized with him.

And that was why Al shrugged in exasperation and called out to Priscilla.

“Princess—look how weak the poor guy is. Don’t hound him like that. Couldn’t you use softer phrasing?”

“Softer phrasing? No. All I have is the truth. Listen to me, commoner.”

With a cynical snort at Al’s attempted reprimand, Priscilla folded her arms, amplifying her ample bosom. Then she stared straight through the stiff young man and said, “If your mouth remains shut, all that desperate running day and night to deliver the news of your home village will have been for nothing. Ask your heart if you could live with yourself if that happened.”

“”

“Come now, you already left your home once before. Wiping the slate clean and starting a new life is an option. Now, whether it’s the wise or cowardly option remains unknown.”

Priscilla kept her phrasing harsh, burning the young man’s heart to a crisp without hesitation. If only a mountain of ash remained when she was finished, she couldn’t care less.

But the wide-eyed boy on the receiving end of those incinerating words felt distinctly different from her.

“Now what’s your decision? To be a coward?”

The man looked up and answered her question. “……I am a coward. I’m not…wise… But I refuse to abandon my people.”

Priscilla nodded generously, as if she already knew his answer before he spoke it.

In the end, Al’s words had served as a stepping stone, which irked him a little inside. And that feeling only got worse when Yae shot a mischievous grin his way. (It made Schult, who was anxiously fidgeting beside Priscilla, seem downright angelic in comparison.)

“The night I left my village, everything felt so wrong…that I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat with my family, either. I just went to lie down in my room…and then I suddenly noticed somebody left the house. It seemed like they were sneaking out. So I followed…”

With a look of grim resolve on his face, the man began to tell his story. And then, after a faint moment’s hesitation, he uttered the decisive words.

“I found villagers…sewing their rotting limbs back together.”

“”

“At first, I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. But they weren’t. Their limbs were falling off, and they were trying to sew them back on again. And I saw it.”

He saw what he should not have seen. In most horror stories, only one fate befell such a witness. But the man had broken the laws of storytelling and had managed to escape with his life.

“I stepped on a stick, and they heard me. But I just started running…and I escaped. I used the secret path up the mountain that I’d used when I left my village the first time. And I just kept running…”

He had run his lungs dry of breath until he arrived at his baroness’s home to beg for help.

“How did you know they were, um, undead?” Yae asked. “Did they tell you that’s what they were?”

“Long ago…there were stories of an animated corpse attacking people near my village. So whenever parents wanted their kids to obey, they’d scare them by saying the undead would come after us. That’s why—”

“So these undead that you thought were only a superstition actually appeared. I seeee…”

Yae quickly exposed his leap of logic. She glanced at Priscilla to see her reaction—then shut her mouth. Al said nothing, either. They both understood that it was Priscilla’s decision how to handle the young man’s plea.

But there was one person in the room who couldn’t keep their heart and head separate.

“Princess Priscilla…”

The owner of the raspy voice and dewy eyes was Schult. The young, tenderhearted boy had empathized with the young man’s harrowing tale and was asking his mistress to show mercy. It was a plea filled with a sense of foreboding, knowing that he might earn Priscilla’s wrath and scorn for it.

But Priscilla merely looked at the boy and ran her fingers through his peach-pink hair. She caressed it, saying nothing, but that action alone was enough to fill Schult’s face with relief.

“Now, what exactly do you wish of me?” she asked the young man. “You’ve just delivered the harrowing news that your home village is filled with living corpses. What would you have me do?”

“I implore you, please restore my village… No, wait.”

The man bit his lips and shook his head. He had just realized that his answer to Priscilla’s question was an empty wish, untethered from reality. Priscilla was not offering to grant an impossible wish. What she wanted to hear from him was not of an intangible fairy tale.

What’s done was done. It could not be changed. Any attempt to do so was an act of arrogance, no matter who tried. And because of this, the young man’s plea for salvation—remained unspoken.

“Please destroy the corpses. My village…my family, my siblings, my old friend… Put them to rest. I beg of you.” The man bowed his head and uttered his anguished yet determined wish.

As Al stared at his mistress from behind his helmet, he knew at a glance what her answer would be. Everyone in the audience chamber who served her reached the same conclusion.

Her sadistic, smug smile said it all.

4

The young man’s home village of Coffleton was a sleepy southside hamlet in the Bariel Barony. It was disgustingly dull, just as the young man had said, with no distinguishing characteristics, and its conditions were quite different from those of Ladrima, another village Priscilla had personally visited before.

During that visit, Priscilla had her sights set on the kurenai, the bright red blooms Ladrima grew, but Coffleton had nothing enticing whatsoever. Because of that, the most obvious course of action would have been to send a portion of her Crimson Battlefront to investigate the anomaly in the banal portion of her lands. However…

“Why is the princess personally tending to the problem again?” Al murmured as he looked up at the ornate interior of the cart pulled by a crimson land dragon.

Without a shake or bump in the wind, wind repel blessing made the ride in the dragon carriage supremely comfortable. But when one was not keen on making the trip, the journey itself was anything but pleasant.

As Al muttered in discontent, Priscilla raised an eyebrow and said, “What, does my way of thinking displease you? You’re certainly eager to court death, Al.”

“Can’t a guy grumble a little without his mistress threatening to kill him? Aren’t ya bein’ a little harsh with me lately?”

“Nonsense. I always view things impartially. If you find fault in the way I treat you, you need only blame your own behavior. Shifting the blame onto me is the height of stupidity.”

Elegantly uncrossing and recrossing her long legs, Priscilla retrieved her fan from her cleavage and hid her lips behind it.

Al waved a dismissive hand and said, “But isn’t it a bad move? The baroness personally touring her lands without bringing along her private army…? I mean, if we were dealing with common villagers, they’d have no choice but to prostrate themselves before your glory, but we’re gonna run into some zombies, right? I doubt you can use your authority to whip those sponge brains into submission.”

“Once again, you insist on using nonsensical words. What are these spunges and zombees of which you speak?”

“Oh, zombies are corpses that walk around. And sponges…well, uh, they’re tools you use when you wash dishes and stuff. Basically, I meant their heads are empty.”

“Hm. Spunges aside, I like the sound of zombees.” With an amused smile, Priscilla’s crimson eyes softened. “Now, regarding why I am tending to the matter personally—have you any idea why?”

“I haven’t got the faintest clue, except that this sounded fun to you. Unless you’ve got another reason?”

“I do. Naturally, the main reason I’m helping is because it sounded amusing to me—but it’s not my only reason. I advise you to guess at my expectations while the matter is resolved. And if you fail to give me an answer before the matter is resolved, know that my treatment of you will become even worse.”

“What is this, a game show? Well, if there’s gonna be a penalty for losing, there’d better be a reward if I win.”

“You are just insufferable in every way, aren’t you? Fine. If you guess my intentions correctly, then you may lick my foot.”

“That a fetish of yours, Princess? I’m starting to worry that you meant that literally.”

Al wasn’t sure whether that constituted a punishment or a reward. Were his mistress one of unique tastes, it could be a reward, but fundamentally, that sort of thing fell into the punishment category. (Though Al could make himself believe this punishment was really the gift of beholding Priscilla’s bare foot up close if he tried hard enough.)

“Sooo I’m sorry to interrupt your flirtatious banter, but…”

A voice timidly nudged itself into Al and Priscilla’s conversation. It came from Yae, who sat beside Priscilla in the dragon carriage. Her hands in little fists and a goofy smirk on her face, she gave her head a coquettish tilt and said, “Why have I been brought along on this adventure? Usually, you’ve got Al and Schult, a veritable bank of flowers… Well, one of them is technically carnivorous…but anyway, why not the usual entourage?”

“You callin’ me a carnivorous plant?” Al demanded. “Actually, I guess you could argue Schulty meets that description, just barely…”

“Oh, Al, you’re definitely a carnivorous plant. And I say that with love.”

“Mhmm, I see…”

As Al’s shoulders slumped from Yae’s merciless slander, he secretly had the same question as her. Priscilla had not brought Schult along on their excursion to Coffleton. As a rule, Priscilla rarely traveled anywhere without him.

And this was Priscilla’s first time leaving the mansion with Yae instead of with Schult.

“To begin with, I was hired as an attendant to serve at the mansion by the master…by the late master…and I tend to your personal needs, don’t I, Mistress? Wouldn’t you say what I’m doing now falls outside my job description?”

“What’s your point exactly? Do you want to quit on the grounds of your contract being violated?”

“Oh nooo, I wouldn’t go that far. It’s just, I’m the type of girl who doesn’t do overtime or tasks outside my job description. If I’m coerced into doing so—”

“This will not go uncompensated. Rest assured. I reward good work. And it was my decision to bring you along. Are you accusing me of being deceptive?”

For a second, the dragon carriage interior smelled like something was burning, and Al clenched his buttocks in trepidation. Even Yae’s expression tensed at the threatening tone of her mistress’s deep voice.

But she quickly regained her usual composure, pressed her hands to her cheeks, and said, “Oh no, no, no, heavens no, of course not, Mistress. Doubt you? I would never be so brash! I was merely clarifying my position. But with your reassurance, Mistress, I’ve nothing to fear. I am your loyal dog. I shall happily water your precious flowers and your precious carnivorous plant, too.”

“Just FYI, you’d better feed that carnivorous plant more than water, otherwise it’ll be clearly weaker than the ones that get insects. It’s in the data—”

“Don’t interrupt her, Al. I couldn’t care less about your carnivorous plant expertise right now. But if you’ve had a change of heart, Yae, then show me with hard work. Now—what do you know about Coffleton?”

With a rebuke at the grumbling Al, Priscilla roughly tossed the question at Yae, who bundled her red hair in her hands, brushed its tips against her lips, and replied, “Weeell, uh, there’s nothing noteworthy to tell you, really. Right, except that the man who delivered the news of the undead to us is named Array Denkutz. He’s the second eldest of Charon and Monet Denkutz. His elder brother is Riddle Denkutz…aaand that’s all we know. There’s nothing else much of interest, y’know?”

Yae sounded apologetic for not being of much help, but the thoroughness of her memory was more than enough to marvel over. It need not be said that none of what she said was made up. Everything was accurate.

Censuses were conducted in the villages throughout the barony, recording the number of subjects and their names. And naturally, as lord of the land, Priscilla had these records, but not only had her Grand Chamberlain Yae memorized them, she could recite the names effortlessly.

She was skilled, so Priscilla made use of her. There was more to Yae than met the eye—but that was the reason she was so highly valued.

“Oops! Looks like we’re heeere.”

Meanwhile, the dragon carriage slowly came to a stop. The driver gripping the reins opened the door, and in burst a cool breeze to welcome the party. It was the only thing worth calling a welcome that they received.

“As far as I can tell…it’s nothing but fields,” Al remarked.

“Well, yes, that’s a farming village for you,” Yae said. “It has a population of only eighty-eight, and compared to the manor, this settlement is on the small side.”

As they stood on a hill overlooking the hamlet, Al and Yae openly shared their first impressions. It was an idyllic landscape rich in green, but at a glance, it was clearly a Podunk that would bore youngsters to tears. It was understandable why the young man had been so keen to skip town.

“What a cozy little cluster of cottages. And yet…”

Al cut himself off there and took a holistic view of the village. They were standing a ways away, yet they could still see signs of life and industry in the village. Smoke rose from the chimneys, and there were villagers walking about. It looked nothing like a village that had been overtaken by the undead.

“It looks like a normal village, at least so far,” Al said. “I can’t exactly imagine zombies cooking or doing laundry.”

“According to history, the undead army that wreaked havoc in Lugunica forty years ago was in no shape to go about their daily tasks. Their bodies were rotting, and they were consumed by a singular desire: attacking the living. The undead army was more powerful dead than they were alive.”

Yae answered Al with a smattering of trivia. Either way, the idea of somebody controlling people after their deaths was not all that appealing.

Al fingered the flap of metal on his helmet and muttered, “Y’know, I think just being dead would be an upgrade. If their brains don’t work, they can’t realize how bad they have it.”

“What a very bizarre position,” Yae teased.

Saying nothing in return, Al silently turned to look in Priscilla’s direction in an attempt to figure out their objective. “Just a thought, but maybe the guy who showed up at the mansion is sick in the head? Might be worth our while to check him out more… Princess?”

Priscilla ignored his question and continued to stare down at the simple little settlement in silence. But in her crimson eyes burned a flickering flame of anger and contempt. She clearly had a different sort of conviction burning in her breast.

“I don’t know who’s behind this…but how dare they visit such an outrage on my lands?”

Her lips twisting into a sharp frown, Priscilla began to march sharply forward. Slow to react to her confident stride, Al and Yae ran to catch up with her.

“Hey, Princess! I can tell you’re pissed off, but why the sudden burst of hostility?!” Al shrieked.

“Can’t you see it? There’s a stink in the air. If you strain your ears, you can hear the strains of an inhuman puppeteer at play. It is an affront to me in every regard.”

“Nothing you just said made any sense!”

Priscilla’s phrasing was so esoteric that it took Al’s brain some time to parse what she had said. But Priscilla’s stride was swift and did not grant Al the time he needed to understand her.

Priscilla boldly descended the hill and set foot into Coffleton without hesitation. And the man at the village gate raised an eyebrow at the sight of her and her two companions.

“Oh, we don’t get outsiders here much. What’s a lady in a pretty dress like yours doin’ here—?”

“Silence.”

Priscilla lightly raised a hand, and the polite man’s eyes opened wide. Barely a moment later, Priscilla drew her crimson blade from midair and slashed the man from his shoulder to his waist.

“Kgh—!”

Emitting a sharp cry, the man’s body instantly burst into flames. Priscilla’s Sunlight Blade incinerated anything upon contact. The flames burned on until whatever it was they touched turned to ash.

The man’s body brilliantly burned to crumbling ash in the blink of an eye—

“Whoa, whoa, whoa?! Are you shitting me?! Did you really just incinerate the first villager we bumped into?!”

“Technically, she slashed him to death, but oddly enough, I suppose either is fine. Ew.”

Even Al and Yae couldn’t hide their shock over the sudden outburst of violence. But without a glance at her companions’ stone faces, Priscilla looked down at the burnt corpse by her feet and snorted.

“No zombee talks to me with such familiarity. Now, I do grant shelter to my subjects, but this kindness does not extend to empty shells that merely took on their appearance. Learn to tell the difference.”

“Uh, but he talked, and he even had a polite smile on his face! Was he really a zombie?!”

For what it was worth, Al deemed the incinerated man as human and a friendly one at that. To burn him to death so indiscriminately could only be described as a tragedy.

“I’ll reiterate that I personally think she slashed him to death… Oh, dear. The other villagers.”

As Al clutched his head in agony, Yae’s cheek twitched as she looked at their immediate surroundings from beside him. It was the villagers, restless over the arrival of their mysterious visitors.

Since their fellow villager’s death had happened in the blink of an eye, none of them had witnessed it. That being said, as there was a human-shaped pile of ashes lying on the ground, it was only a matter of time before they put two and two together.

“Sooo there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for this…” Yae’s brain whirred at full capacity, desperately searching for a way to pull the wool over their eyes. But while her brain stalled over the dilemma, Al had a slight edge on her when it came to understanding Priscilla.

“Princess—”

“Humph.”

But even his slight edge was not nearly enough to bring him up to Priscilla’s speed.

The tiny, defenseless elder was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. With a merciless flash of light, Priscilla’s sword cut the leader of the pack’s body in two and then made it burst into flames.

“A-aaah!!!”

Panic surged through the villagers as they witnessed the sudden act of brutality. But the screaming subsided quickly. The head of the screaming man snapped off, silencing his voice.

“Take a look, Al. That man’s testimony was correct.”

“On what planet?! I can’t shake the sense that you just pulled a deranged-mob-boss-silences-the-wrong-guy-on-false-pretenses trope!”

“Why is there not a single woman or child here? What reason is there in only men surrounding me?”

Twirling her bejeweled sword in hand, Priscilla poked the headless man’s chest with the tip. And as one might expect from the impact, the headless body fell—except it didn’t.

There was no blood emitting from the severed neck because the Sunlight Blade cauterized the wound while slashing…but there was more to it than that. Something wriggled from the headless neck, and the body leaned toward Priscilla.

“Shit!” Cursing under his breath, Al tackled the headless man. Without his head, the man fell easily backward, but his four limbs quickly pressed against the ground and stood him back up again.

“Gross,” said Al, groaning and staring directly at the severed neck’s surface.

Emitting from the wound were countless tentacles, growing like roots. The dancing seaweed froze Al to the spot, looking like they would spring at him at any second—then they burned.

“Don’t embrace any delusions that you’ll survive a cut by my Yang Sword. Burn to ash, you forgery.”

As Priscilla sneered, the man let out a voiceless death cry and crumbled to ash. And while it happened, the other villagers did not run. Instead, their emotionless eyes stared at the enemy from the outside.

Impressed by Priscilla’s sharp intuition, Al pulled the liuyedao from his waist. “Shit, so they are literal zombies?! Princess, behind me!”

“Indeed, the fight is yours. I cannot stand to behold these vile creatures any longer.”

“Wha—? For real?”

Al’s wager that he could look cool and still get help from Priscilla was way off. Priscilla shut her sword away into thin air, tapped Al on the shoulder, and stepped back, leaving Al to face an army of over thirty faceless undead.

“So, uh…I’m dead, right?”

“Whoop! You’re the man, Sir Al! This is your time to shine! When they gnash you to death, I’ll tell Schult you went heroically…”

“Stop messing around and gimme some help!”

“Wh-whaaat?!”

His liuyedao at the ready, Al howled at the flippant maid. Taking this as his cue, a man charged at him, wielding a plow. And the black blade pierced sharply, straight into his forehead.

His head spun backward from the impact, and the man’s feet stood still. But his head snapped back like a rubber band, and he resumed his plow charge at Al. The latter lopped his arms off with the liuyedao, then back-slashed his neck, torso, and knees.

“After all that song and dance…I finally got one!”

“Eep, I feel faint. Aren’t these chipper gentlemen a tad incompatible with me?”

As Al breathed heavily, rejoicing in his first laborious zombie kill, Yae’s lips pursed. Her hand held a black kunai, just like the one that had been thrust into the man’s forehead.

The kunai was a concealed weapon originating from the west, and there was more where that came from, hidden beneath her red maid’s uniform. Naturally, this was because her true job was a battle maid.

But Yae’s fundamental attack styles depended on subterfuge and the element of surprise, so it was highly incompatible with zombies who had no hearts or brains or other vitals to attack. Her grief was understandable.

“Princess! Hey, Princess, listen to me!”

“Cut that chatter. If you serve me, fight proud. Do you want to downgrade me?”

“Are your beautiful eyes incapable of seeing it? I’m gonna die here, man!”

Al cut down two more during his lament as he desperately fought his way through the herd of undead. As the score of zombie villagers attacked him, Al found himself in literally a life-or-death situation. But it was only a matter of time before the sheer numbers of his enemy would crush him.

And yet Priscilla seemed amused by his struggle.

“Sir Al, you can do it! Sorry all I can do is cheer you on…”

“Shut your face!” he screamed at Yae, who mysteriously had also found herself on the spectator side. And with the oblivious pair at his back, Al’s unprecedented death battle wore on. It wasn’t until Al truly was on the brink of death several seconds later that Priscilla finally drew her Sunlight Blade again.

5

“But wow. Who’d have thought it was literally a zombie village…?” Al muttered as he kicked over the corpses of the villagers he’d just killed. They were far from resting in peace, and all Al could do for them was pray Amitabha have mercy.

After all, unlike the average slashed corpses, these were brutally butchered beyond recognition. You wouldn’t see carnage this extreme unless the victims were killed by anomalous means. Naturally, Al had no intention of doing so, and he could excuse himself in saying he did what he had to do to survive.

“Then again, when there’s, like, dozens of burnt corpses by your feet, little good my excuses are gonna do.”

Saying this, he took a panoramic look at the piles of burnt corpses. The villagers kept coming, until their corpses numbered greater than fifty—90 percent of which were burned to death, vastly eclipsing Al’s body count. All Al and Yae had contributed were cries of encouragement while Priscilla’s Sunlight Blade danced.

That being said, this was the optimal solution. The endurance of the undead villagers was extraordinary. Even if their hearts or heads were crushed, they still kept going strong. The Sunlight Blade seemed to be the only truly effective countermeasure, and killing them any other way would indeed require an inhumanly brutal amount of damage.

That supernatural life force and the way the flames consumed it. More and more, they were resembling the zombies Al knew of. Though the word parasite seemed to suit them better…

“I’ll call them zombies in the interest of simplicity…but you’re right, Princess, there aren’t any women or children zombies. Let’s hope they weren’t snuck off somewhere in the village to be fed upon—”

“Eeew, please get that scary image out of my head. I found them, by the way.”

While Al compared the burnt corpses to the images of zombies from his memories, Yae returned from her patrol of the village. She twisted her face in disgust at Al’s ramblings and pointed behind her to reveal women and children, residents of Coffleton.

“They were all shut up in their family sheds and storehouses. They said abominations taking the forms of their family members forced them to go about their daily lives normally…”

“Son of a bitch…”

Truth be told, it was a disgusting demand. Monsters with the faces of their beloved family members ordering them to act normal—hypocritical. That’s all Al could say about it.

But forced into it, they were. And at night, they even had to sew the rotting zombie limbs back on.

“I always saw myself as the sort of guy who could stomach horror stories like this…”

“I can’t tell, since you’re wearing a helmet, but I couldn’t possibly work with anybody who didn’t so much as raise an eyebrow over this. I’d be scared out of my mind. So don’t worry, Sir Al, it’s okay for you to be freaked out.”

“I’m not freaked out. Though I will admit it’s a creepy scenario.”

Al unceremoniously cracked his neck at Yae’s cheerful attempt at praise. She then asked Al with a glance what they would do about the villagers. She wanted to know how they would break the news to the rescued women and children that the rest of their families were dead. Though since they had been transformed into zombies, revealing the truth that they were ashy debris might be the better thing to do.

Perplexed by the unimaginable crisis, Al silently twiddled his helmet…

“What’s this—survivors?”

Just then, Priscilla, who had returned to the dragon carriage atop the hill, approached the group. As she stared at the survivors, Al nervously grabbed her shoulders and said, “Princess—I know how you feel. But please, keep it together. If you tell these poor saps you gleefully exterminated their family members, you’ll have over twenty enraged girl and lady ash corpses on your hands.”

“Who do you think I am? Do you honestly think I would brag to the woman whose husband I just killed, to the daughter whose father I just slew, and to the girl whose brother I just laid low and laugh in their faces?”

Truth be told, Al did think that was precisely what she was capable of, but he held his tongue. As he stood in uncomfortable silence, Priscilla made her way to the surviving girls and women. The girl listlessly standing at the head of the pack nervously piped up when she saw Priscilla.

“Array…is he all right, my lady?”

“Array…?” Al tilted his head.

“The man who delivered the news. Array Denkutz,” Yae whispered in his ear.

Right. He’d heard the visitor’s name when they rode in the dragon carriage. And she was concerned for his welfare, which meant…

“He’s fine,” Priscilla answered. “Were you the one who helped him escape the village?”

“The impostors…I distracted them. But I’m so glad he’s alive.”

With a soft sigh, the girl let the news of Array’s safety soothe her soul. She must have truly been worried about the young man. So worried that she would risk her life to help him. But in the end, her actions had alerted Priscilla to the quiet undead invasion.

“You shall be rewarded. Come closer,” Priscilla commanded.

“Oh—um—yes, my lady…”

Priscilla beckoned the girl over to her. Intimidated by the grand summons, the girl stepped meekly toward Priscilla. And then—

“Don’t bite your tongue.”

“Hngh?!”

The next thing she knew, Priscilla was kissing her on the lips, without hesitation.

Without introduction, without explanation, girl on girl—pushing past all kinds of problematic issues, the girls and women beside Priscilla were astonished from a different angle. (Naturally, Al and Yae reacted much in the same way.)

“Whoa, whoa, whoa…what the hell is this?!”

“Ah—! Sir Al, look!”

“Huh?! What now…oh—OH?!”

While Al demanded to know the logic behind this “reward,” Yae called his name, the surprise on her face transformed. Just as Al raised an eyebrow at what he saw, Priscilla’s lips left the girl’s…

Her white teeth still clenched the alien tentacles.

And with that, Priscilla yanked the tentacles from the girl’s body in one fell swoop. The tentacles, about a yard long, wriggled and lashed out at Priscilla with limbs that ended in sharp points.

“Uryah!!”

But Al’s gleaming liuyedao put a stop to them. In one simple slash, the tentacles snapped like tree roots, crashed violently to the ground, and writhed in agony. The tentacles squirmed, like a beached fish drowning in the air.

“You are undeserving of life.”

Without another word, the writhing tentacles were burned to a crisp by the crimson sword. And just like the zombie villagers, the tentacles froze unceremoniously the moment they were burned.

“So this is the source of the zombies. A parasite… It was a parasitic life-form all along?”

With anticlimactic scorn in his voice, Al looked at the ashen tentacles on the ground and stopped breathing. He remembered the writhing alien being rising from the severed head of the man. Something similar to the zombie men’s bodies was also feeding on the women and children.

But the girls didn’t turn into zombies. Where was the difference?

“Probably a matter of body or blood type. Or more simply put, the parasite can’t snatch female bodies?”

“Either that, or it feeds on female hosts so it can crawl up onto land—how revolting.”

As Yae tended to the coughing girl, Priscilla narrowed her eyes and spat. Then she took the Sunlight Blade in her opposite hand and rained crimson light upon the cowering women and children.

“—Ah.”

In a flash, the survivors collapsed to the ground—and vomited in unison. As Al beheld the scene, dumbstruck, Priscilla gave a snort of her nose. Then she gave the blade of her crimson sword a gentle caress and said, “My Sunlight Blade cuts what it wants to cut and burns what it wants to burn.”

“So what you’re saying is…you cut only the tentacles and burned them?”

“You are quick on the uptake. I praise you for it.”

“For a minute there, I almost shat my pants. I thought you were gonna cut down all the survivors.”

But without Priscilla’s Sunlight Blade, something similar would have been necessary. Worst-case scenario, she would have to kiss the parasite out of every single villager’s mouth.

“So wait, is the reward a kiss, Princess? Y’know, I wouldn’t mind having that instead of licking your feet.”

“Nonsense. My lips are divine. But her reward was her life, of course. She valued her feelings for a man over her own life. This incident exposed that. A job well done.”

Priscilla chided Al, then praised the girl’s initiative.

“So a girl’s love nipped tragedy in the bud… Pretty damn cliché if you ask me. Then again, the casualties could have been much worse…”

“No. It’s too early to celebrate.”

Coffleton’s death toll was already quite painful, yet Priscilla shook her head at the notion of it being over. Upon hearing the assertive claim, Yae turned away from the villagers she was watching over and asked, “Does this have something to do with you ordering the dragon carriage driver to hustle earlier, Mistress?”

“Of course. I sent the dragon carriage to the Crimson Battlefront at the mansion. They are to arm themselves, then make way to the other three villages besides Coffleton along the Tenrill River.

As she answered, Priscilla opened her crimson fan and pointed at the river flowing beside the village. Grasping the meaning behind the action, Al and Yae both shuddered.

“Our mistress believes the river is the source of the infection,” Yae said.

“But according to my limited knowledge, zombies are supposed to spread by biting people.”

“But nobody was being bitten in this village. What’s more, they were trying to go about business as usual.”

“Fair point.”

That was the clear difference between the zombies Al knew and the parasite-infested villagers. Instead of attacking people, the parasite became them and tried to defend their territory. It was as if instead of stealing bodies, the parasite stole lives.

“If all this is true, our little parasite is anything but cute.” Al grimaced.

“And even if my theory is wrong, don’t drink the river water,” Priscilla commanded. “Avoid touching it altogether, if possible. Any food grown with that water ought to be burned as well.”

“Dang, you’re thorough,” Al marveled. “In that case, we should also be wary of any insects close to the river. Bloodsuckers tend to congregate around water, and insects spreading disease is all too common.”

Priscilla spoke softly. “Well, in either case—” She cut herself off there, narrowing her eyes.

From behind Al rose a chill—rather, something close to a chill but also different. It was not cold. It was hot. Incandescence was caressing his spine.

The smoke he’d smelled in the dragon carriage once again tickled the insides of his nose. It was a sign of Priscilla’s spirit, determined to smite the perpetrator of this outrage in her lands. In other words—

“That fool, whoever they are, shall pay for what they’ve done. With their life.”

6

The Crimson Battlefront leaped to carry out Priscilla’s order immediately.

And as their master commanded, the soldiers donned their crimson battle garb and made their way to the Tenrill River to investigate the three villages along it besides Coffleton. And just as expected, they discovered the parasite had spread to two other villages as well, living in the bodies of the women and children and killing the men.

“Princess, couldn’t you save the men with your Sunlight Blade, just like you saved the women and children?” Al asked.

“My Sunlight Blade has its limitations. I could kill the parasite inside their bodies, but I lack the ability to fill the holes eaten out of them. Put in your terms, a brain cannot be salvaged once it’s a spunge.”

Al nodded in understanding. In other words, the parasite used the men’s brains as seedbeds to slowly take over the entire body. And since their brain was the first to be taken over, their memories and behavior would only become hazier with each passing moment.

It was consistent with the testimony given by that young man who delivered the news to Bariel Manor.

“That guy said when he saw the villagers sewing their rotting limbs together, he ran away without having anything to eat. Let’s just hope he didn’t drink any water, either…,” Al said.

“The women of the village covered all the bases for him,” Yae assured Al. “I’m sure they all wanted to make sure he escaped. They boiled his water and gave him preserved rations to eat…so he avoided consuming anything tainted.”

“Whoo, mad props. That’s love for ya.”

Thanks to the quick thinking of the young man’s old friend, he was now safe. And thanks to Priscilla, his friend was safe, too. The village may have lost all its men and nearly fallen to ruin, but not all was lost. They had a chance to rebuild. And they surely would.

“Okay, now that it’s established we’ve avoided some nasty aftermath…why do you keep staring at that map, Princess?”

They were at the home of the deceased village head in the village center. Priscilla leaned over the map spread on the table and answered, “Don’t you find it odd? There are four villages near the Tenrill River, yet only three of them fell victim to these zombees. One of the villages somehow managed to avoid it.”

“Uhh,” Al mumbled. “Maybe all the villagers were fasting? Some religious people do that. You don’t eat, drink, or have any fun, but that’s a sign of your devoutness.”

“Well, if that’s how they avoided harm, they have another problem besides the zombees,” Priscilla said. “My theory is the flow of the river… The unharmed village is upstream of the others.”

Priscilla pointed at the map, showing the divide between the infected and uninfected villages upstream and downstream of the Tenrill River. And since the water was shallow, if it was contaminated, the victims would spring up downstream of the contamination site, not upstream.

“Thus, we’ve investigated the area between Coffleton and the unaffected village to see if there was anything suspicious.”

With that, the door to the village head’s house opened, and in popped Yae’s red head. She cheerfully skipped between Priscilla and Al and put a mark on the map.

“What does this symbol mean?” Al asked.

“A waterwheel,” Yae replied. “The timber cut from the surrounding forest is sent down the river by boat. This waterwheel is meant for milling flour, but something about it stinks.”

“Yes, it’s a cunning cloak to conceal crime,” Priscilla answered.

Yae nodded proudly in reply. But Al raised his arm to point something out. “Sorry to rain on your crime-concealing cloak parade…but aren’t we jumping the gun here? How do you know with absolute certainty that this zombie outbreak was an act of terror?”

“It’s the natural conclusion to make,” Priscilla replied. “I know you’re a dimwit, but how could this have not been orchestrated by human hands? Don’t be ridiculous, Al. There’s a time and place for tomfoolery, and now isn’t it.”

“The first thing you said was valid, but the second thing is worthless without any concrete evidence.”

It was a blunt rebuke, but when considering how Priscilla usually spoke, it was relatively considerate. One thing was clear, Al had his reasons for being skeptical about the situation.

He had never heard of a zombie rebellion in the Bariel Barony before.

“Sir Al, what a menacing look! Come on, now, smile!”

“You can’t even see my face.” Al snorted at bitter Yae’s attempt to insert herself back into the conversation. He then turned to the map Priscilla was studying and said, “So if you say this is cover for a crime, do you suspect the waterwheel operator or logger of foul play?”

“It is the natural conclusion to make, yes. Yae, who’s our delegate?”

Without consulting any records, Yae answered, “Edda Rayfast. She’s a gritty woman well-known for whipping wild men into shape. I think you and she would get along swimmingly, Mistress.”

Priscilla squinted an eye at Yae’s prompt reply. “Hm. Compatibility aside, she does pass our first test.”

Upon hearing her answer, Al and Yae both tilted their heads and asked, “What test?”

Priscilla’s red lips softened into a smile. “Everyone who became a zombee was a man. If prior experience has any bearing, it’s unlikely this gritty woman’s brain has turned into a spunge.”

“Oh, now I get it. Yeah, that makes sense,” Al replied.

“However—” Priscilla cut herself off there, closing her other eye in thought. Dreading the silence, Al considered calling out to his beautiful mistress when she said, “No matter. We’ll wait until I ascertain everything with my own eyes first.”

Deciding everything on her own before anyone could give any input was very true to form for Priscilla. She was perfectly aware of Al’s reservations, yet she paid them no attention. And yet she did notice he wasn’t following her when she began to walk away.

“What are you doing? Al, be a good dog and follow behind me.”

Casual abuse like this was irresistible.

“Maybe I really should lick your foot. Like a dog. Loud and wet.”

“Eeeew, Sir Al, what a turnoff,” the redheaded maid sneered back as he started to walk boldly behind his mistress. And as Al fiddled with the metal latch on his helmet, he started to dearly miss the little pink-haired boy.

7

Edda Rayfast seemed cold-blooded rather than gritty. One could almost see the black tar flowing through the veins beneath her dark skin instead of blood. She was sturdily built, with thick arms and legs. Over her dress, which was so tight, it looked as though it might rip open at any minute, she wore a fur coat, and the thick wall of makeup on her face was for battle, not beauty.

At a glance, she emitted a level of aestheticism far deviated from the norm.

She stared down at Priscilla, who was sitting in the parlor, and said, “So you must be Priscilla Bariel, eh?”

It was the sheer difference in body size, rather than chair height that made Edda look down on the baroness. Priscilla was far from being a short woman herself, but Edda was so tall, Al had to crane his neck just to look up at her. This proved unacceptable for Priscilla.

“You raise yourself up far too high in my presence, woman. Do you know who I am?”

“Why are you mad?! She’s just tall! She can’t help it!”

“Why are you screeching? If she doesn’t wish to offend by towering over me, she need only bury herself halfway into the ground. The distinct lack of any trapdoors in this floor has earned her a black mark in my book.”

“Yeah, nobody takes such an elaborate precaution when there’s, like, a zero percent chance they’ll ever need it! Imagine, burying yourself in the floor so you don’t risk offending some big shot… That’s no way to live!”

Priscilla covered her hands with her ears as she sat on the sofa. “Oh, quit your incessant yapping. You’re being uniquely annoying lately, dog.”

“Well, I’m…just worried about you, Princess,” Al fumbled.

He wasn’t lying when he said he was worried. But apparently that was no excuse to cramp Priscilla’s style. He could clearly see Yae sighing in disapproval beside her.

As expected, Priscilla gave a dainty snort of the nose and turned back to Edda. “I am here for one reason alone: The timber business and waterwheel you supervise—some scoundrels have conspired to do evil with either one or both. Have you noticed this?”

Edda raised a thick eyebrow at Priscilla. “Conspired to do evil, eh?”

“Including Coffleton, three of the villages along the Tenrill River have been affected,” Yae added. “Have you noticed anything strange about your employees’ behavior?”

Edda stuck a finger that looked like a caterpillar to her lips in thought. It was clearly the face of a woman who was involved somehow. Under ordinary circumstances, Al would have told her that wasn’t the best expression to make. But Al was in no position to give Edda such advice.

And because of this, Edda’s gaze turned Priscilla’s mood even sourer.

“You know something. I can see it in your eyes.”

“I do—as long as this stays between us.”

Edda’s answer was prompt, as if she knew she couldn’t escape Priscilla’s keen eye. It was likely this massively built woman had an instinct for making the optimal choices for survival. And indeed, if she had feigned ignorance again, Priscilla would have drawn her Sunlight Blade without mercy. Al took a breath of relief that such carnage had not unfolded.

Of course, he had been a little too complacent.

“Uh—”

Al’s legs suddenly wobbled, and he noticed his feet were no longer on solid ground. He immediately looked down and knew the reason why—the floor was gone, along with the carpet, the sofa, and the table. The floor had opened up. And just like that, Al plunged into a pitch-black basement.

“Princess—!”

“Sir Al, I’m so sorry!”

The moment he fell, Al tried to call out to Priscilla, when he received a sharp blow to the shoulder. It was Yae, who had narrowly escaped the same fate by kicking off him and clinging to a light on the ceiling.

Al lost any hope of recovery and inevitably fell into the hole. His eyes flashed, desperate to make certain of at least one thing before he fell—

He exchanged a glance with the crimson woman before flipping over.

He fell…and fell…and kept falling. Al’s body plummeted and flipped over.

And with a silent scream, Al was hopelessly swallowed by the darkness below.

8

A yawning hole had opened up in the floor.

Without warning, the abyss had swallowed everything above it. The red carpet, the large sofa, the table filled with tea and cups for guests—and the man in the jet-black helmet who was too slow to react.

As she watched the man disappear into the bottomless pit, leaving only a faint scream trailing behind him, the crimson woman—Priscilla Bariel—narrowed her beautiful jewellike eyes to slits.

“You really…let your guard down, eh?”

“Let my guard down, you say?” Priscilla pulled her eyes away from the bottomless pit and turned to the person speaking behind her. There stood the grand conspirator Edda, her blood-colored lips twisted into a smile. Without so much as a flinch at the woman’s cruel smile, Priscilla said, “To show such hostility toward me from the very start, I doubt you have a shred of sanity left.”

“That so?”

“What’s more, you see how I stand, and you accuse me of letting my guard down? You deserve a thousand deaths for that.”

“Oh, really now?”

Priscilla’s judgment was merciless, yet the flesh on Edda’s body shook with inappropriate levity. The shaking of her iron-blooded skin only further soured Priscilla’s mood. Without hesitation, she reached her hand right up into the sky where her Sunlight Blade was sheathed. But then—

“Mistress!”

Just as Yae called out to her, a black blade slashed through the air. Then came the sound of tearing flesh. Yae, who had avoided the plunge by jumping off Al’s shoulder, had thrown a kunai. And her target was behind Edda—the foreheads of two men who had entered from a concealed door in the wall.

The kunai blades were not long, but they sank deep into the men’s heads, scrambling their brains and cutting their lives short.

And Edda, who received a blade in the center of her neck, was no exception.

“Yiiikes. Sorry about that, Mistress. My hand just sorta slipped.”

Softly landing beside Priscilla, Yae apologized for the swift execution. Priscilla lowered her sword arm and said, “No matter. Though I did wish to punish them personally, it wasn’t worth belittling my grand chamberlain’s display of loyalty. Now, we have more important matters to tend to…”

“Umm, you mean Sir Al? We’re pretty high up, though… Eeep, I can’t see the bottom.” Yae’s face twisted into a perplexed frown as she peered down the trapdoor beside Priscilla, who stood with her arms crossed. That was the natural reaction. After all, the underground space was so dark and deep that the floor could not be seen. Yae dropped a kunai as a test, but she couldn’t hear it hit the bottom. Realizing this mechanism was purely meant to use as a trap against enemies, there was no telling what dangers lurked at the bottom.

As far as they knew, since he had fallen down, Al’s odds of survival were bleak.

“Mistress, it pains me to say this, but I think Sir Al has passed…”

“Hmm—those imbeciles. What were they thinking? Attacking me like that…”

“Mistress?”

This confused Yae, who was fairly sure from her assessment that Al had met a tragic end. Meanwhile, Priscilla stared intently at Edda and her lackeys, collapsed on the floor, pondering their line of thought. Yae could detect no traces of grief for Al in her face.

“Mistress? Ummm, that’s no way to send Sir Al off to a peaceful afterlife…”

“Nonsense. Neither I nor you have time to waste pondering trivial matters. Now, don’t you find it odd?”

“Odd? How?”

“If she wanted to harm me, why did she set off the trap while I was on safe ground? That makes no sense.”

Priscilla’s argument finally made Yae’s face tighten in discomfort over the strangeness of it all.

It was a good question. Priscilla was originally right over the trap-door. If Edda’s target was Priscilla’s whole party—or Priscilla herself—there would be no point in springing the trap without Priscilla in it. And yet their enemy had set off the trap right at the moment when Priscilla wasn’t in danger…

“Well, y’see, it’s ’cause I didn’t wanna damage that pretty body of yours.”

Priscilla and Yae looked up sharply at the sudden booming, deep voice. A giant was standing there with a kunai embedded in her neck. Her thick caterpillar-like fingers grabbed the black blade and pulled it out without any hesitation. The movement was unsettlingly inhuman, and eerily, no blood spilled from the wound.

Yae quickly grasped why that was.

“Just a wild guess, but are you undead?”

“Now that’s a surprisin’ way of wordin’ it. I just don’t have any blood in me,” the undead Edda teased with a sinister smile. There was not a trace of pain in her expression, and if not for the gaping wound in her neck, she still looked like an ordinary living person. But as previously mentioned, there was a gaping wound in her neck, which was all the more bewildering.

“………”

And as they faced the talking corpse, Yae casually positioned herself protectively in front of Priscilla. Without acknowledging her vassal’s chivalry, Priscilla snorted at Edda and said, “I’m of the same opinion. Undead is most unappealing. You should consider calling yourself a zombee instead.”

“Mistress, is this really the time or place?!”

“No matter what time or place, I am always true to myself and my desires. If I bend in any way, I am no longer me. Though I will acknowledge this is an unexpected turn of events.”

It was unusual for Priscilla, a woman who projected such unshakable confidence in everything she said and did, to admit her own surprise. As Yae stared at her in surprise, Priscilla shrugged with her thin white shoulders and said, “If you merely talked and took on human form, I could simply call you repulsive and leave it at that. But the label of zombee clearly opens up far more possibilities. You said you didn’t want to damage my body, yes?”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“I see. So I suppose you want my body next.”

Edda’s blackish-red lips twisted even further when Priscilla said this. Just then, the two men on the floor sprang to their feet and lunged at Priscilla, the kunai still embedded in their foreheads. Yae elegantly kicked one of them aside with a sweep of her long leg. Then she gripped the other by the scruff of his neck and expertly tossed him over her shoulder. In the end, both of them fell right down the pit.

However…

“I’ve got more goons, y’know? Didya really think you could escape?”

“Eeegh!”

As Edda guffawed, the doors to the room opened simultaneously. The proper entrance, the hidden door, and even the ceiling opened up as Edda’s underlings spilled out of them. Yae’s expression was tense as she saw their overwhelming numbers and counted the remaining kunai in her pouch.

“Geez, this army’s so big, it’s kinda funny. Mistress, do you have a plan?”

“You’re my grand chamberlain; you should be the one charting our course, yet you immediately beg me for one? Pathetic.”

“Awww, you didn’t need to be so blunt about it…”

Yae lobbed her kunai at the approaching undead, slashing their arms, legs, necks, and toppling one after another, quickly filling the room with piles of rotting corpses. But the more she defeated, the more kept coming, with no end in sight.

Beholding the futile scene before her, Priscilla sighed and said, “Yae—leave me and withdraw. Go look for Al.”

“What?! But, Mistress, I thought you forgot Sir Al existed.”

“I merely said it was pointless worrying about him. Don’t speak such nonsense. I am perfectly capable of opening an escape path for you. Feel honored…and kneel before me.”

“Kneel before—? Eeep!”

Right after that grand proclamation, a flash of crimson zipped past Yae’s cheek. She impulsively dropped to her knees as Priscilla’s Sunlight Blade swished just above her head. Gouts of fire shot out, and all the undead who stood in the way were slashed and reduced to ash.

“Now go.”

“Oh, Mistress, do be saaaaafe!”

Meanwhile, Yae, who had jumped up to the ceiling, slipped away. And with that, she swiftly escaped the parlor that had become a war zone, leaving Priscilla alone.

“Hm.”

After she’d made sure Yae was gone, Priscilla’s red blade slashed a second time…then a third, engulfing the sinister undead in flames. However—

“It’s time we bring this to a close…eh?”

“Yes, indeed.”

Edda chuckled as she leisurely watched her corpse lackeys fighting. The gleam from Priscilla’s sword darkened in Edda’s gaze, its wavering flames losing all sense of shape or form.

“Hah, there must be a cloud covering the sun. This sword never cuts the way I wish it would.”

And with that, Priscilla unceremoniously tossed her sword into the sky. It slashed the neck of the corpse standing behind her, then vanished into thin air. The sword had returned to its invisible sheath. Now unarmed, the undead surrounded Priscilla.

“I don’t wanna hurt you, believe me. So can ya come quietly?”

“Don’t let any of those filthy creatures touch me. And handle me with care,” Priscilla demanded boldly, folding her arms to lift up and accentuate her bountiful bosom.

Edda raised an eyebrow, then her face collapsed into a big sneer. “So full of yourself—I like it. Perfect quality for a leader of paradise.”

9

In the bottom of the deep, dark cellar, Al wallowed in despair…and filthy water.

“Are you shitting me? Dang…how did I even survive that fall?”

There was a squidgy sound wherever he stepped, and when he pressed his hands to the ground, it felt lukewarm. With a grimace, Al wiped his hands on his trousers and did his best to clean the mud from the seams in his helmet.

Meanwhile, he tried to look around and cursed the lack of light. He couldn’t see a thing. He stopped picking the mud out of his helmet and fished a white stone out of the pouch at his waist.

It was called ragmite, a special stone that glowed when struck. The stone had differing properties from magic ore and was prized for its ability to emit off light without needing a fire. Al banged it against his helmet and illuminated his surroundings with the dim white light.

“Well, I don’t wanna consider myself lucky just for surviving that, but…”

Back in the parlor of the Rayfast home, Al had fallen through a trapdoor into the cellar. Edda had probably meant to kill him, but he had somehow managed to stay in one piece.

Be that as it may, he had not dashingly bested the trap. It had been pure chance that he had landed on a cushion, which softened his landing.

As for the identity of that cushion…

“A pile of sludgy dead bodies… Smells awful.”

Realizing the sludge seeping through the cracks in his helmet was not “mud,” Al’s face twisted in disgust at the pile of long-expired humans that had broken his fall.

There were at least twenty bodies. They were probably some of the workers from Edda’s village lumber business. Every dead body was still clothed, and no jewelry had been stolen, so they were clearly not killed for money. The way they were disposed of was callous, but the reason they were killed was probably not so simple.

“My best guess is animated corpses don’t last long—that’s their weakness. Hardly a way to run a successful undead business, if ya ask me. And the business model is packed with stuff high society types would hate.”

Since she had attacked him, it was obvious that Edda Rayfast was involved with the undead. And when considering her level of influence and wealth, it was entirely feasible that she was the mastermind. And if that were the case, Priscilla’s safety was in jeopardy, since she was presumably still up in the house—

“Yae, since you used me like a friggin’ trampoline to escape, you’d better be doing your job up there. Then again, I’m sure our princess can save herself without our help……eh?”

Just then, Al detected a strange presence in the pile of corpses he was observing under the glow of his ragmite. He looked in its direction and shone more light on it.

Then the next thing he knew, his gaze met with a pair of hollow eyes, and he jumped backward.

“Whoa?!”

“Ah—ahhhh!”

The shapeless corpse gave the harrowing wail of the undead. Its bone-exposed arms shot forward as it tried to drag Al down to hell.

For a split second, Al stopped breathing and failed to react. As he stood rooted to the spot, the corpse reached for his eyes to gouge them out—

“—bm.”

“Huh?”

The next thing he knew, the corpse’s rotten head unceremoniously dropped off its body thanks to a kunai hurtling down from above. (This was the kunai Yae had dropped to see how deep the cellar went, but there was no way for Al to know this at the time.)

He quickly celebrated his random turn of good fortune after narrowly escaping with his life.

The corpse stopped moving after its head was gone—perhaps because they still had brains. Its rotten arms fell off, and without even so much as a faint howl, the corpse returned to its eternal rest.

However, this was just one of many corpses.

“Oh, fuck me…”

As he cursed under his breath, the pile of corpses undulated, freeing bits of rotting flesh and sludge that soaked into the damp ground. Al pondered the grotesque mass’s true identity as the overflowing stench assaulted his nostrils, and he scooted backward, trying all the while to keep his focus on that thing as much as was humanly possible.

But Al’s trial of life and death was cut short by an unexpected intrusion.

“Dwah?!”

Something slammed into the heap of corpses with incredible force, scattering rotten flesh in every direction. This made Al wonder if there was any point of him taking all that effort to not disturb the rest of the gory mass. Upon closer examination, he discovered it was two unfamiliar people who had smashed into the corpses. He also noticed there was a kunai buried in at least one of their foreheads. Clearly Yae had sent them. It was a sign she was indeed fighting hard up there, but her timing couldn’t have been worse.

“Wh-whoaaaa!”

The weakly wriggling pile of corpses suddenly started moving with a burst of speed. It appeared as though the pile of corpses was moving as a singular giant body. The heap of twenty-some-odd tangled corpses came together to form a grotesque hulk that no longer resembled anything human. And then it began to roll at Al.

“Y-you’ve gotta be shitting meeee!”

Al turned his back on the heaving mass and ran with all his might. He couldn’t remember ever running in worse conditions or worse visibility. And he hadn’t run this hard since the day he escaped the colosseum on Gladiator Island. The only difference was, his pursuers back then were living human beings, so the horror element was on a whole different level.

“Is this a sewer? A wastewater treatment plant?! Does this place even have an exit?!”

Open-toed zori and raw sewage really did not mix, but he somehow managed to keep running without falling. Since the wide tunnel only traveled in a straight line, he didn’t have the luxury of ducking into a side passage to let the giant corpse ball harmlessly pass.

Running forever without a map or any clue where an exit might be was not very practical. He would at least have a chance if his pursuers could run out of breath, but up against an undead monster with unlimited stamina, his chances seemed slim.

To make matters worse—

“Argh! Are you kidding me?!”

Up ahead, several silhouettes were starting to come into view. Their arms were thrust forward, and they were wobbling stiffly forward in stereotypical zombie style. The talking variety back in Coffleton was a rarity to Al. He gnashed his teeth at the arrival of the mindless zombies.

Naturally, given the numerous splashing sounds and flying rotten flesh from the rolling corpse ball, there was no way the zombies ahead weren’t aware of it. In front of him were zombies, behind him, the corpse ball. If the zombies ahead got him, his life was in danger, and if the corpse ball flattened him from behind, his life was in danger—and Al had not a single soul he could rely upon for salvation.

Only he could save himself. By using every tool he had.

“Shit, I don’t know how much space I’ve got! The odds are against me…but I guess I’ll have to roll with it!”

He was closing in on his last stand, with the zombies ahead and the corpse ball behind. Desperately scanning the shape of the ground around him, Al bit his lip inside his helmet. Then he let out a determined howl.

“Screw it! Expand…domain!!”

The moment he screamed, the space around Al rippled, as if it were being cut out of thin air…then it warped.

It was like some supernatural entity had altered the dark, putrid space, changing the balance and shape of things until it was like looking at the world through the lens of bubbles that rose to the surface of a lake or ocean.

And then…

And then…and then…

And then—

10

“You see, we’re plannin’ on making a paradise for the Creator here.”

Edda sat on the floor of the room and looked up at Priscilla. The latter elegantly crossed her legs, propped her chin on her hand, let out a soft murmur of wonder, and said, “That is not something I find at all interesting. So how exactly do you plan on accomplishing this?”

“Aw, you’re no fun. But you’re consistent, and I appreciate that. You’re always proud and mighty, no matter who you’re dealin’ with, and you’ve got the position and power I need…you’re perfect.”

“Hah—I think I’ve figured out your intentions.”

“Ooh, really?”

Edda tilted her thick neck in confusion. She didn’t remember revealing any special information to Priscilla. Regarding this not-even-slightly cute gesture with a look of contempt, Priscilla turned her gaze outside the window.

Priscilla was being confined in the deepest room of Edda Rayfast’s home. She was not restrained, and she could walk about the room freely. She was on the third floor, but she could easily escape out the window. However, there were guards outside the door, and she could see at least ten undead on patrol outside the window.

The sun had already been covered by clouds once. And once it set, it would be some time before the next sunrise. Even Priscilla wasn’t arrogant enough to think she could escape a swarm of undead without a weapon. (Nor was she at all keen on breaking a sweat trying to outrun them.)

“When I leave this house, I shall exit through the front door with a brilliant flourish.”

“Bold, I like it. But you won’t get your way. ’Cause you see—”

“You’re planning to defile my brain and body with that disgusting parasite, I take it?”

“Hee-hee—”

Priscilla’s sharp, smoldering crimson gaze made Edda’s giant body shudder. Then her fat fingers set a comically tiny glass down on the table. Into it, she poured an amber liquid. From its faint aroma, Priscilla knew it was a fine liquor. But she did not drink it.

Judging by the time it took for the glass of liquor to be poured, it couldn’t possibly be an ordinary glass of liquor.

“You’re smart. So you don’ need me to ’splain anything, right?”

“You spilled some imbecilic poison around the Tenrill River and contaminated the water. I’ll wager this liquor is tainted in the same way, right? Crude. Completely lacking in finesse.”

“I’m so sorry, dear. I promise I made your drink extra special.”

It was curious how hollow the words special drink sounded.

Considering that the infected villagers drew their water from the Tenrill River, that was almost certainly the main vector of infection. That was something they had concluded in Coffleton…but one aspect of the theory was problematic.

The parasite only targeted adult males and spared the women and children.

And if that parasite controlled Edda Rayfast and now sought to take over Priscilla’s body…

“Some species of insects or vermin survive by forming colonies,” Priscilla said. “For their societies to be sustainable, they need something. Even to wild animals with little pea brains, the answer is crystal clear.”

“Oh…? And what’s it they need?”

“A queen.”

Amused by her own answer, Priscilla smiled for the first time since entering that house. Organisms who lived in a colony needed a queen if they were to propagate their species far and wide. A female specimen was necessary for birthing children—this was true for virtually all living things, no matter how big or small.

Not a king but a queen. It seemed bizarre, but it made the most sense in the present situation.

In other words—

“You revolting parasites are trying to create a queen but your body no longer has any life inside, and any notions of propagating your species are a distant dream.”

“Aww, I wouldn’t be too sure ’bout that. We’re maturing fast. At first, we rotted the brains and made animated corpses; then came the parasites with knowledge and wisdom… At this rate, it won’t be long before we eventually take over somebody while they’re still alive.”

“And then you’ll give birth to a new race of zombees? What an acute case of millenarianism. So this is the paradise you seek…and you want to turn me into its keeper?”

“I won’t deny it. And you know you can’t escape, right? That maid of yours hasn’t been caught yet, but it’s only a matter of time.”

Though Yae had barely managed to escape, security was tight in this area. The surrounding forest in particular was a place where Edda’s lumber workers felt right at home, and it was not suitable terrain for Yae to fight.

As Priscilla calmly analyzed the situation, Edda smiled at her and said, “Mm-hmm, don’t fight it, honey. It’s not like I’m a totally different person now. It’s just that my priorities changed.”

“Enough of your rubbish. What you are is as good as dead.”

“Ga-ha-ha…”

Edda cackled deeply, spewing putrid breath from between her thick lips. Upon hearing the disgusting sound, Priscilla lowered her sculpted eyebrows into a frown. Then her thin white fingers reached for the glass—

“Mm!”

“You glugged it all down…didn’t you? I thought you might try to throw it away. Good girl.”

As Priscilla tipped the amber liquor back and licked her red lips clean, Edda regarded her with a look of surprise. She didn’t believe Priscilla would be so compliant.

But she had engaged in no crafty trickery. She had drained the glass, without spilling a drop on the floor. Therefore, the same parasite in Edda’s body ought to have invaded Priscilla.

“The effects should show soon. Then you and me can have a much nicer conversation. Let’s have a good, long chat about the Creator.”

“Again with that name. You seem quite devout.”

“Well, this is the Creator we’re talkin’ about. Our birth parent…” The flesh on Edda’s entire body trembled as her deep voice boomed with dark reverence. “More accurately put, the catalyst that’ll bring about our rebirth. Building a paradise where the Creator can be safe…that’s our sacred mission.”

Priscilla shrugged. “Building a paradise for your so-called creator… What an extremely boring idea.”

Edda’s eyes narrowed with hostility at first, but the emotion quickly disappeared. She faced Priscilla, who had resumed sitting cross-legged and resting her chin in her hand, and beholding her beauty, she said, “Your words’ll have no power after you’ve fled from us in fear. As grand as you are, I imagine you’ll be a sight to behold when you surrender your life to the Creator.”

“Ooh, sadism becomes you, hideous crone. I’ve finally found some middle ground for Yae’s rubbish jokes. You might even say you and I are compatible.”

“Oh my, my, my… So are you ready to cooperate with me now?”

“Nonsense. I shall execute you with my bare hands. Your grotesquely portly body will tremble, and tears will stream down your face as you beg for mercy—what a pleasing sight that will be. Well, might I make an offer? Since I find joy in this, perhaps I’ll comply with what you said earlier?”

Priscilla parted her lips into a seductive smile—this ghastly beauty was her true essence. It was then that Edda shook. For the first time, she was frightened of Priscilla. She looked down at her own hands, unable to believe it.

Her body had already begun to transform, releasing itself from the pains of this world. And yet she was trembling. Why?

Priscilla looked up at Edda, who should have had the clear advantage, and sharpened her eyes into a frown. Then she pulled her fan from her cleavage, hid her mouth behind it, and spoke.

It was her motto, her absolute truth that she never once doubted:

“Remember these words well—this world bends itself to suit me.”

“”

“And because of that, no matter how hard you struggle, you will meet a pitiful demise and burn to ash. Spend what remaining time you have wisely—until my jester’s performance reaches you.”

Priscilla pointed the tip of her fan toward the floor, saying not another word.

There was no need to say anything more.

11

Yae Tenzen did not set foot underground until everything was already over.

“Yeeep! My nose is gonna fall off.”

The mixture of rotting flesh and soiled water assaulted Yae’s sense of smell so violently that her face twisted into a prune.

Since her eyes were built for the night, she did not bring a light with her into the darkness. But the sight before her was so horrifically hellish that she regretted training herself to see in the dark.

Corpses, corpses, and more corpses. Everywhere she looked were piles upon piles of the dead. Looking back on her life, Yae had seen her fair share before, but not so many corpses without a trace of humanity to them. This was not the product of torture or even sexual deviance. They had been ripped to shreds and cast aside like so much meat and gristle. It was a pitiful way to go.

“Look at me, following Mistress’s orders in these disgusting conditions—I sure am loyal, aren’t I? But this is definitely a once-in-a-lifetime sort of thing…”

She had come down to find her fallen coworker, but his chances of survival were slim. It was a struggle for her to reach the underground space, and now that she was finally down there, she was utterly exasperated by how deep it went.

Just the thought of what it took to dig a cavern so deep under a house made her stomach churn. The dead bodies piled up must have been what remained of the workers who put in their hard labor to build the place. The dead couldn’t complain, and it was arguably very economical for them to dig their own mass grave.

“Weeell, when it came to grooming, he was a failure as my coworker. In a way, Sir Al was evenly matched with you corpses, but I guess he barely has you beat when it comes to hygiene.”

Because of that, Al’s appeal as a coworker had barely tipped the scales in his favor. Though to be honest, it does make you wonder if it’s a fair competition, pitting Al against the undead…

“When you’re comparing me to zombies… I’m not exactly thrilled even if I do win.”

“Whoa!”

Yae, who was walking on the edge of the path to avoid the putrid bodily fluids as much as possible, yelped and looked up in surprise at the sudden snide remark…and was even further surprised to see the silhouette in the darkness.

With a floating gait evoking a spectral quality, the figure wobbled creepily to her through the sludge—

“Sir Al, is that you? Are you safe to approach? Haven’t you turned completely into an undead?”

“Well, with all the biting and yanking they did, I can’t exactly guarantee I didn’t catch anything, even though I’ve got no symptoms. Most of the time, people are done if they get bit even once.”

“If Mistress and I are correct in our theory, the parasite is not transmitted through wounds. As long as you didn’t drink any water… Then again, to be honest, I wouldn’t want to go near aaanybody who would drink the water down here, even if they weren’t a corpse.”

“I’m not above drinking dirty water to survive, but even I’m not touching this shit.”

As he said this, the black-helmeted one-armed man stepped out of the shadows. He was a gruesome sight, covered head to toe in sludge, but at a glance, he had no life-threatening wounds. There weren’t any obvious injuries from the fall, either.

“Sir Al, can you by any chance fly? I hear the marquis in the west is good at that.”

“I may be called a jester, but I’m nothing like that clown. I just had a bit of good luck. A pile of corpses cushioned my fall.”

“Uhhh, can you really call that good luck?”

“Whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger; that’s a saying from where I’m from.”

Al cut himself off there, leaned his back against a wall, and slumped to the ground.

For all his banter, it was obvious to Yae just how exhausted he was. And no wonder. Several hours had passed since his great big fall, and he had been fighting for his life the whole time.

And above all else…

“So all the corpses around here… Were they all undead that you attacked, Sir Al?”

If her deductions on the way here were correct, some of the corpses were the hard workers who had built this underground space—sacrificial pawns. However, the number of corpses used for other purposes was by no means small, and she sensed there were major differences in the conditions the corpses were in.

Simply put, there seemed to be some intelligent animated corpses like the ones they’d encountered in the house above or in Coffleton that were mixed in with the brainless corpses. The one thing they all had in common was the thick slash marks of a sword.

“Aaargh, I’m beat. It’s a miracle I’m even alive. A real shocker. Thank you, heavens up above…”

“………”

As Al heaved a long sigh, weighted with exhaustion, Yae stared at his helmeted face. Al had managed to overcome every hellish danger in this underground sewer, and she could hardly believe it.

By Yae’s honest appraisal, Al was not that skilled a fighter. At most, he was second-rate as a knight, perhaps even somewhere between second- and third-rate considering he was missing an arm. She couldn’t imagine he was all that gifted a tactician, and he was difficult to comprehend even at the best of times.

Practically put, he was expendable. The best he could do was to shield Priscilla from death should the need arise. And yet such a man had defeated a massive army of undead, imperfect though they were.

“Guess it’s the power of looove…”

“Stop it, you’re creeping me out…” Al grimaced. “Uhh, so where’s the princess? She okay?”

“Yeah, about that, we’ve kind of got a weee little problem…”

“Huh?”

With a shrug at Al’s suspicious tone, Yae filled him in on everything that happened after his fall. Adding to Edda Rayfast’s evil plot, the entire area was under the undead’s control. Priscilla had been taken captive by the enemy, and only Yae and Al could move about freely.

“That being said, we’re grossly outnumbered. I could easily run away by myself, of course, but by the time I returned with reinforcements…”

“It’s more than likely the parasite will have taken over the princess by then.”

“Yeah, and if that happened, everything else would kiiinda be meaningless.”

Yae looked at Al meaningfully, begging for input. They didn’t have many potential moves to begin with. They only had two trump cards to deal with the herd of undead. Al’s survival was worth celebrating, but it was hard to imagine that would drastically tip the scales in their favor. Yae’s thoughts went beyond outside the immediate area—to the villages along the Tenrill River where the red-clad Crimson Battlefront was mopping up the undead.

If she could summon them somehow, the herd of corpses would prove short work for them. The only issue was Priscilla’s consciousness would be stolen by the parasite, and she would be turned into a puppet long before the army could reach them.

Their only hope was to bank on Priscilla’s resilient mind and spirit—a baseless hope. The idea of relying solely on that was something Yae resisted with every fiber of her being.

Ignoring Yae’s complicated inner turmoil, Al said, “Why’d you come looking for me anyway? If you want to save the princess, shouldn’t you have slipped outside and led the Crimson Battlefront here?”

After a silent pause, Yae answered, “That was my first idea, you know? To be honest, I was not at all hopeful that you’d survived that fall. But Mistress said…”

“What?”

“She said I should find you. She said it was pointless to fret. It seems she trusts you quite a bit… Sir Al?”

Priscilla’s final daring command returned to memory. It was a lousy strategy that Yae would have never obeyed if it had not been Priscilla’s will. And since Al had indeed survived, her coming down there had not been in vain, but Yae had absolutely no idea what this could possibly lead to. And as she pondered all this, Yae suddenly noticed the change in Al’s mood and narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

“Sir Al?”

In silence, Al slowly rose from his slumped position on the floor, fiddling with the latch of metal on his helmet with a clinking noise. A weak, metallic clink.

It was a frequent little quirk of his, but for some reason, in that particular moment, it gave off a different impression…

“That sly fox… She’s good.”

The exhilaration in his voice only confused Yae further. And as her confusion bound her, Al slowly began to walk away, dragging his feet as he went. He was going the way Yae had come—back toward the mansion on higher ground.

“Ummm, Sir Al? There’s kind of a lot of enemies up there, you knooow?!”

“Yae—haven’t you noticed it?”

“Excuse me? Noticed what…?”

“Would our princess make some dumb move that resulted in us wandering around aimlessly? Would she make a move so bad that you and I would notice right away? I don’t think so.”

“Well…”

At a loss for words, Yae began to doubt her own actions. Al had a point. Even Yae had considered the possibility that her search for Al was pointless.

Yet she had obeyed Priscilla’s command anyway. And that was because—

“In the end, this world bends itself to suit her.”

And if such a woman had chosen Al, then there was no reason to doubt that he was their greatest weapon in this fight.

Al drew his sword and painfully hobbled toward the surface. Yae jumped frantically to follow him, screeching, “What exactly is your plan here?! There’s a ton of enemies up there. Sir Al, do you honestly think you can win a fight where you’re outnumbered a hundred to one?”

“Just two against one is more danger than I’d like. I know my own limitations. But here’s the thing, I’ve been in this sort of situation many times before.”

“You mean these terrible odds?”

“I mean the situation where I’m outnumbered. There’s a huge difference between there being a hundred enemies and taking a fight against a hundred guys at once, Yae.”

Yae just stared at him.

“I can’t win against a hundred all at once, but what about a one-on-one, one hundred times? I’m still at a disadvantage, but doesn’t it seem like we at least have a chance?”

That was indeed a prime strategy when greatly outnumbered, but considering the gap in combat ability, it was a wildly optimistic plan.

And yet this man boldly claimed it could work, as if he had been struck by a lucky star.

“You’ve got a one-in-a-million chance of winning, so basically, zero… Besides, I made the same wager earlier myself. I thought the chances of you still being alive were one in a million…”

“So that just means I’ve got to make two one-in-a-million shots. And as a man, I can’t help but feel fired up by that. As long as my chances aren’t zero—I’ll rip and tear my way through to victory.”

The spiral staircase that led to the surface appeared in the distance as Yae and Al talked and walked. Once they reached the top, they would be at ground level. But what awaited them was a swarm of undead straight out of hell.

“While I raise a ruckus, you slip out of the mansion and bring the Crimson Battlefront here. Either way, we’ve gotta nip this in the bud before it spreads.”

“……So we’re really going through with this?”

“Don’t make me say it again. I don’t wanna fall short of breath when I deliver my signature phrase.”

Saying nothing more, Al stepped onto the staircase. Knowing any further attempts to stop him were futile, Yae bowed politely where she stood and said, “You know, I’ve actually grown rather fond of you and our mistress, Sir Al.”

“Hey, don’t make it sound like you’re saying good-bye forever. Way to jinx a guy.”

And as they exchanged their final bit of banter, Yae swiftly dashed up the staircase, slipping past Al. It was a mystery what trick Al had up his sleeve, but even if he was simply putting on a brave face as he faced certain death, she wanted to honor his intentions. She would summon the Crimson Battlefront and destroy the undead inside the mansion.

So they could exterminate the stomach-churning source of the stench without dragging it outside the filthy garden.

And as Yae ran, she heard Al murmur something behind her. The words were utterly meaningless to her—

“Expand domain—commence thought experiment.”

12

As he sent the head of yet another undead flying, Al thrust his sword into the torso of the corpse behind him without turning around. He twisted his sword free, easily snapping his rotted foe’s body in two and sending it tumbling to the ground.

Then he killed another…and another… He had no idea how much time had passed, but the mansion was filled with corpses in his wake.

The dead bodies had been animated in a pale imitation of life, so it could be said that he was simply returning them to their natural state.

Either way, corpses were corpses—they weren’t meant to be getting up and walking around.

The more Al fought, the less clear it was to him what exactly he was doing.

“This ain’t an exorcism or helping souls move on. It’s an uprooting of the poor bastards who wandered into the cul-de-sac of fate… Then again, it’s beyond ironic that I’m the one doing it.”

Or perhaps even what he was doing would be child’s play to Priscilla, the owner of those crimson eyes that can see through everything. Not even Al knew the depths of her true abilities lurking behind that ample bosom.

He could rely only on the fact that Priscilla, who could only measure her own fate by her own scale, had chosen Al as her pawn to move them out of this stalemate. That alone had amplified his foolishness and unbridled fury to fight himself to death.

“Okay…I killed…killed some more…one hundred fourteen… Damn you, Yae. You fudged the numbers. There’s way more than a hundred… But…we’re almost…”

“Almost at the end of my patience.”

Al’s sludge-stained sword parted the curtain, and he spun around to see a giant silhouette standing there. The creature was far too big to be human and had a hideous face. And its voice hurt his eardrums like nails—

“Y’know, just between you and me, maybe you should drop the gritty woman title. Gritty? More like shitty.”

“Ooh, you got a tongue, you. Do you have any idea how hard it was getting together this many people? They were all valuable laborers for our paradise.”

“Labor? They just drank water, fat ass. All you did was force them to stand in sewage, and you’re praising them like they’re just as hardworking as marathon runners.”

Al could not care less about a zombie master’s musings on building a paradise. Unfortunately for Edda, taking the rantings of a villain seriously was not in his training.

“I’m gonna kill you and take my princess home. It’s high time I actually get my tongue on those slender white feet of hers.”

“Ooh, you lout. I won’t let our sacred mission be stopped by the likes of you.”

As Al thrust his liuyedao at her and declared his obscene intentions, Edda Rayfast let out a gruesome chuckle. Then her steely skin swelled, and strange bumps began aggressively popping up under her clothes, which ripped right off to reveal an unwelcome amount of skin and her revoltingly grotesque form.

Edda had absorbed numerous undead inside her body. Legs and arms thrust awkwardly out of her from head to toe, and the moaning faces of the dead surfaced on her belly and back. Her monstrous appearance filled Al with disgust as he grimaced and spit out of his helmet.

“Gross.”

“You’re gonna become a part of me and take that arrogant woman down a peg. Then we’ll use her beauty and title to build the most beautiful paradise on earth!”

Edda’s body snapped sharply, breaking the laws of gravity that should have held its immense weight down as she lunged at Al. It was likely made possible by taking advantage of the unnatural muscle strength that came from the dead bodies she had absorbed. As she flew, spewing putrid juices profusely from every inch of her body, she was truly the worst enemy Al had ever fought.

So this is what happens to a big mass of dead flesh when you give it a single mind…

The corrupted hulk that was brutality incarnate narrowly missed Al when he jumped backward.

As he retreated, he imagined not the enemy chasing him but his captured princess on the other side of it.

Of all the luck… Why did this have to happen to me? Crossing paths with her must’ve been a mistake from the very start.

And so…

“Drop deaaad!!!” The giant corpse flew at him, spewing putrid liquid and rotting gas while reaching for him with countless hands.

As Al beheld the sight, he softly shrugged and said, “You and me both—we were born under a bad star.”

13

“Took you long enough, Al. Just how long were you going to keep me waiting? Could you be more insolent?”

“……Is that the only thing you have to say to the dashing knight who won the battle and finally reached you?”

Al’s shoulders fell dejectedly as he walked his soiled self through the door. He was met by the judgmental gaze of a woman with elegantly crossed legs, playing the part of the princess imprisoned deep in an enemy castle who was none other than Priscilla. Seemingly unconcerned by her plight, she was as brazenly arrogant as she ever was. That truly embodied who Priscilla Bariel was as a person.

“Meanwhile, I’m too relieved to even be mad at you. I really am a stupid man…”

“And a man who must kneel before me, at that. No need to wallow in self-pity. Learn the natural course of things. Now, what became of that insufferably rude corpse ringleader?”

“It was the most brutal fight of my life. I knew I had a million-to-one chance of winning…but I figured you’d want to kill her personally, so I just knocked her out.”

“Hm. Good. You have my praise,” she said, slowly rising to her feet and boldly marching up to Al. He watched her walk by him with a quizzical look on his face, then sighed and followed after her. They left the deepest room in the house and walked a while until they reached—

“Ngh… Ah… Nh…”

“Hmph. What a wreck you’ve become.”

At Priscilla’s feet lay Edda Rayfast. In a word, she was pitiful—her body was not much to look at even before it absorbed a mountain of corpses, but the way their flesh had been gouged out, their limbs cleanly picked off, evoked a true resemblance to a massive engorged caterpillar.

Her fingers once resembled caterpillars, so it was rather poetic that the rest of her body seemed to match now.

“I was going to gratify myself with the sight of you blubbering and begging for your life…but the dreadful way you look, I won’t even grant you that.”

“You… Wha…happened? Was so…everythin’…was…”

She had become a living corpse and boasted of severing herself from the woes of everyday mundane life. But now Edda shook her head in disgust, shaking with terror over what had happened to her.

Priscilla knew she was referring to Al, the one who had reduced her to this state, but she gave no answer, drawing her beautiful crimson sword from the air.

Just like the last time she put it away, the red gleam of its blade had not yet returned…

“Even when the sun is shrouded, the smoldering flames do not extinguish. This won’t be easy, but I did promise I would burn you to ash. I am a woman of my word. You shall burn here and now—dreaming of your paradise as you go.”

“Doesn’t…matter… You’ll be…same…as me…”

As she tried to give voice to her parting curse, the tip of Priscilla’s sword stabbed Edda in the face. Silenced by force, Edda felt her eyes peeling back, and they burned a faint red as her body gradually ignited.

The flames raced ravenously from Edda to the walls and floor, fuel that would grow the fire big enough to burn the entire mansion to the ground.

“Princess—do you feel okay?” Al asked from behind Priscilla as he watched the fire spread.

It was difficult to believe Edda and her minions had done nothing to Priscilla while she was held captive. As far as he could tell, she was not wounded, and she was behaving as her normal self. Because of this, it was hard for him to imagine she was infected with the parasite that would turn her into a zombie. However—

“Didn’t they do something to you? Like, you know…?”

“Like vulgar rituals to turn my perfect body into a zombee?”

Priscilla turned around and looked Al in the eye, silencing him. If only there were anger in her crimson eyes. But staring at him were two opaque orbs of eerie calmness. And as Al faltered under her cool gaze, Priscilla’s lips softened into a smile.

“Don’t worry. Even if my body were consumed by a foreign body, you know the means of exterminating it—do you not?”

“‘The means of exterminating’…oh!”

As Priscilla smiled at him, Al recalled the events at Coffleton. Priscilla had forced a kiss upon the infected girl, yanking the parasite from her. That was a surefire way to exterminate a parasite that had already taken root in a body.

However—

“B-but Yae and Schulty aren’t here. And the only other woman left kinda just got burned to death…”

“Nonsense. Even if she were still alive, I would never press those rotten lips to mine—that’s wrong in more ways than one. Now gird yourself and do your duty. Don’t you care what happens to me?”

“Uh, well, I never said…”

Al scooted backward under Priscilla’s judgmental glare. But one bold step from Priscilla easily closed the gap again, trapping Al against the wall.

“W-wait, Princess! Look, the mansion is kinda on fire; now’s not the time or place to—!”

“You bravely put your life on the line for me. I’m rewarding you. Hold still.”

Al slowly shook his head, but Priscilla did not even acknowledge his protest. She touched the unspeakably filthy man, her thin white fingers reaching into his helmet.

And then—

“—A hideous gaze, no matter how many times I see it.”

The only sound that followed was the clang of the black helmet landing on the floor, echoing throughout the burning mansion.

14

“Oh, Mistress, nobody does it like you. You’ve saved both yourself and your allies—I’m in awe.”

“Of course you are. Though your praise is music to my ears. So praise me all you like.”

“Yes, milady.”

Back in a room at the Bariel Manor, Yae gushed to Priscilla as she gave her a manicure. The plot of Edda Rayfast, ringleader of the undead, had been foiled. All that remained was to dispose of the remaining undead in the surrounding areas, and the crisis would be completely wrapped up.

From beginning to end, Priscilla solved the mysteries mostly on her own. Of course, she granted a sliver of credit to Yae, but truly only a sliver.

Everything had danced in the palm of Priscilla’s hand and ended without ever leaving it. This included Edda, the undead, Yae, Al, everything—which was just a little unnerving.

“Why did you stop, Yae?”

“Oopsie, sorry, Mistress. Just had something on my mind.”

“Oh? Insolent of you to daydream while you’re tending to me. What in the world was on your mind?”

“Weeell, you know, when I returned to the burning mansion with the Crimson Battlefront and rendezvoused with you and Sir Al. Was it just me, or was Sir Al weirdly skittish? I mean, not that he’s exactly Mr. Calm and Cool most of the time.”

Naturally, Yae concluded that Al was just jittery after fighting for his life. After all, he had just survived a solo fight against a massive army of undead. Those were one-in-a-million odds, and he had survived.

Truth be told, Yae was confident that the sight of the pair in front of the mansion had given her the biggest shock of her life. She deserved some praise, not letting it show on her face.

Her only reservation was that she sensed something in Al then that could not be explained away by post-battle jitters.

“Oh, that’s because he’s a stupid man.”

Priscilla’s reply fell slightly short of answering Yae’s question. But she showed no signs of elaborating.

“There, Mistress, your nails are all done. Bafflingly beautiful as ever.”

Still feeling a little wool over her eyes, Yae put away the manicure set. And it was not an empty compliment. Priscilla’s innate beauty truly did extend all the way to her fingertips. Allure dripped from every part of her body. As a fellow woman, Yae found her beauty implausible.

“Shall I summon Schulty? I imagine you’ll want to snuggle up with him as usual…”

“Not tonight. I’d like to closely observe myself overnight as a precaution. The foreign body I drank in my liquor glass ought to have been burned completely away, but there’s no need to terrify Schult over it.”

“I see… Ooh, those zombies were way out of their league, trying to take over your body.”

With the power of her Sunlight Blade, Priscilla could burn anything she wanted with surgical precision. If she ingested a foreign body, she needed only to burn it straightaway. It wasn’t difficult for Yae to imagine Priscilla burning the parasite to death immediately after she drank it through the liquor.

“Well then, Mistress, you must be tired, so I’ll take my leave. Sir Al was exhausted as well… Have a good night.”

“Mhmm. Yae, you fought well.”

As Yae bowed and turned to leave the room, Priscilla bid her good night. Yae gave an even deeper bow in reply and disappeared without a sound.

It was only then that she suddenly realized that was the first time Priscilla had given her any word of appreciation. It showed that Priscilla acknowledged her contribution that day had been great. Receiving acknowledgment for her efforts beyond serving as a maid, Yae was filled with a sense of accomplishment and fatigue.

Truth be told, this was the worst day of her life—though it wasn’t all that bad. Arguably, it was the most exciting day since she came to serve at Bariel Manor under Priscilla.

“I am what I am, and there’s no changing it. But…”

She had fun. She wasn’t bothered. And a part of her wished her life would go on this way forever. And so—

“—It’s the end of the road for you.”

Clouds covered the moon. The night was quiet, without even so much as an insect’s song. Yae clearly heard the voice behind her.

She stopped walking. Stopped breathing. Stopped her heart from shaking. And turned around.

The voice sounded familiar. But she had no recollection of that voice ever sounding so cold. Feeling a sense of unease over the voice—let alone the situation she was in—Yae forced her usual smile and said, “Sir Al, is that yooou? What brings you out so late at night?”

Silence.

“You must be tired. I assumed you’d be long asleep by now. Unless all that killing riled you up so much you can’t sleep? Well, you mustn’t be here. Now, if you were a maid, I’d let you off with a warning, but this area is—”

“The princess’s bedchamber. Yeah, I know.”

His quiet reply left Yae at a loss for words. She forced another dumb smile on her face.

Not yet. This isn’t over yet. Nothing’s decided yet. I can still salvage this.

I still have time… My days here…my time here…it doesn’t have to be over yet.

“Well, if you already know that, even more reason you shouldn’t be here. I mean, suuuure, if you’re gonna pounce on a lady’s bed at night, it makes sense to go for a beauty, but Mistress is a tall hurdle to clear. Shall I help you? I mean, you know, after everything that happened today, you’ll probably seem extra dashing to her—”

“Dang, you sure talk a lot when you’re in trouble. But it’s pointless. You won’t lower my guard.”

“………”

“I’ll say it again. The princess’s bedroom is just down the hall. What are you doing here so late at night?”

Hearing the conviction in Al’s voice, Yae took a sharp breath in and relaxed her shoulders. She slowly shook her head no, her red ponytail swaying cruelly in the night.

It’s over—that was the conclusion Yae’s stubborn disposition gave her.

Deception would not work on Al. He would not even hear any excuse she could give. Al knew. He knew everything.

“Y’know, I thought my disguise was perfect… How did you find out?”

“Don’t worry, your cover was top-tier. I just used a cheat code. Y’know…I didn’t want to believe it, either.”

“You always use such complicated words, Sir Al. An uneducated maid like me simply can’t understand.”

The jester took a firm and cool stance, guarding Priscilla’s safety even harder than usual. Yae came to realize then that Al had been wary of her all along and had trod carefully around her.

Whether he acted out of hostility for Yae or something else, she did not know. And their relationship would end without her ever knowing.

“……If you let me go, Sir Al, no harm will come to you.”

“If there were something in it for me, I might’ve heard you out.”

“Ha-haaa, I see. Well, too bad. But if that’s your game—”

Yae lowered an eyebrow, feigning a change in topic while she swung her arm. The next instant, the blade of a kunai protruded from Al’s chest.

“Grgh.”

“Sir Al…you really weren’t all that bad.”

As Al grunted in pain and fell from his stab wound, Yae offered him a short condolence. She attacked without hesitation. After making sure Al was dead, Yae sighed softly, then turned around and headed back toward Priscilla’s bedroom.

Priscilla’s intuition was sharp. There was no guarantee her little skirmish with Al had not woken the baroness. And though Yae was ashamed to admit it, if Priscilla was awake, it would be game over for Yae. She needed to act quickly—

“—I really do wish I could have fulfilled my job, you know.”

When the liuyedao pressed to her throat from behind, Yae’s kunai lifelessly dropped to the floor. She glanced over her shoulder to see the black-helmeted man standing there.

As she watched her kunai fall from his heart to the floor, she could see the slanted wound the blade had made in his chest. It was as if Al had known exactly where Yae was aiming.

“Didn’t I tell you? I used a cheat code. I know all your moves in advance, right down to when you’re gonna kill me.”

“You’re not making any sense… If I promise I’ll throw in the towel, will you let me go?”

Al smirked grimly and gave her desperate question a curious answer. “If you really were going to call it quits, I might have said yes. All the way up till this morning.”

If she had asked the same question that morning, things would have gone differently. He might have agreed to Yae’s proposal.

But now he wasn’t at all conflicted.

“Even when I was on a pile of rotten, sludgy corpses, Priscilla chose me. It’s time I return the favor. Yae Tenzen—you’re here to kill Priscilla. I won’t let you kill her again.”

“…Um, but I haven’t killed her yet.”

“True. And to make certain of that, I’ll crush every last bit of uncertainty.”

Al’s cryptic reply sent shivers of terror down Yae’s spine. And not because she sensed a hostility in Al that would bring about her death. It was the otherworldly tenacity in Al that was beyond comprehension.

It was not out of a sense of duty or professional obligation. Yae’s intuition and skills told her she had to kill that man.

“Sorry, Yae. Both you and I just have bad luck…rather—”

“Die!”

Yae’s body twisted, hurling a blade from her sleeve toward Al’s throat.

And in the split second where the black gleam of her bade failed to reach its target, she heard a voice.

The voice said.

“You were born under a bad star.”

The next day, one of the chamberlains turned in her resignation to take care of her family.

It was the most disrespectful way to resign, not offering even a word to her mistress Priscilla, but when she received the resignation, Priscilla merely uttered, “I see,” and said nothing more.

Rumor had it that the man in the iron helmet who served Priscilla said the maid was deeply traumatized by the supernatural incident that had occurred in the barony the day prior. Her fellow maids sympathized deeply with her, but one by one, they fell back into the busy grind of daily life, and any compassion for their coworker slowly faded away.

Only the pink-haired little butler carried regret in his heart over never saying good-bye.

And with that, Yae’s existence slowly faded, until her sudden resignation was her only mark in history.

15

The anomalous incident at the Bariel Barony was over, and everything was back to normal. It was as if the whole thing had been pointless.

Deep in the dark bottom of the musty space sat a tiny human. The little girl was bound heavily in chains.

In the darkness, she sat quietly without squirming, waiting for time to pass.

In time, a swarm of rats scampered quietly toward her. Rats were cute in their own way if there were only one or two of them, but their numbers had far exceeded that.

They were a giant mass surpassing one thousand…two thousand in number. They surrounded the captured girl in the darkness; then without raising a squeaking cry, they froze still.

A rat swarm that size could have easily consumed the girl in a matter of minutes, leaving nothing but bones. But the rats had not come to feed.

It was the opposite. The rats didn’t see her as prey—they worshipped her as a special being.

This was a display of loyalty for a queen, the sort of control that could only be successfully gained by instinct, the result of an impossible madness. The rats, devoid of their own free will, stared at the girl with the gaze of a corpse.

To call what they felt for their queen “loyalty” would be a gross understatement. It was an intense devotion to a god—to the Creator who had made them.

Ruling over everything, exploiting all things, she would create a paradise for them. And so they were here to welcome their Creator.

She understood the meaning behind the sudden outburst of her children, but the girl quietly remained in wait.

Until the day came…

“Deliberation…required.”

OTTO’S BITTERSWEET MERCHANT’S LOG

Original Publication: Monthly Comic Alive, Vol. 134

1

“Rather noisy, isn’t it, Young Master?”

The young man on the loading platform tilted his head curiously at the familiar voice.

“You think so?”

He was slight of frame, with ash-colored hair. Though he had a frail air about him, his handsome face made up for that and then some, and his immaculate appearance never left a bad impression on others.

He valued being not disliked over being liked—mainly because he wanted to avoid stimulating his hypersensitivities. That was why the young man put great care into his appearance.

His desire not to stand out wasn’t so he could sneak about undetected. Interpersonal relations were very important in his line of work—after all, he was a merchant. Trade was his livelihood.

This young man’s name was Otto Suwen. He set off as a merchant, wandering the lands with his beloved land dragon by his side. He was one of those rootless dream-chasing boys who lived his life on the road.

Otto was currently in the process of securing the goods on the bed of his dragon carriage. He would deliver these to another place, trade them for coin and more merchandise, and turn a profit. It was a simple business model, and Otto’s trade was no exception.

On this particular delivery, Otto had stopped by a town nestled between the mountains with the intention of retrieving some liquor and luxury items he’d recently purchased. He had just completed that deal, making this trip a huge success. All that remained was to hit the road and enjoy a leisurely ride back.

“Young Master, why is your head in the clouds? You’ve just made such a great trade, but the quality of this hay is not very good.”

“So you pretend to worry about me when all you really want is better hay? You’ve become quite the smooth talker.”

“Do I have ulterior motives? Sure! But I really am worried about you, Young Master. Though I would never say no to quality hay…”

“All right, all right, I’ll get you some better hay. Though we’ll have to wait until we get to a bigger city for more of that sort of luxury—harvests haven’t been all that great lately.”

“So you want to make me wait longer so we can leave immediately? Something stinks…”

The voice suddenly turned suspicious. Their long friendship had made them sensitive to the most subtle changes in each other’s moods. It was a trusting and sometimes troublesome relationship.

Determined not to let his internal turmoil show, Otto raised his voice higher than normal and said, “It’s nothing, okay! Anyway, we’re done with business here! You know the Hoshin saying, ‘Time is money’—”

“Merchant! Is there a merchant nearby?!”

An impudent man’s booming voice drowned out the rest of Otto’s excuse. It was unceremonious, both in volume and in expectation.

“Young Master, look.”

“I know, Fulfew, you don’t need to tell me.”

Otto lowered his voice, covered his face with his hands, and ducked, hoping that he wouldn’t be noticed. But his hopes were in vain.

“Aha! There you are, merchant! This is great news! An omen of hope!”

The man flipped the hood of the dragon carriage, peered inside, and burst into a smile when he saw Otto. It was common courtesy not to snoop in another’s dragon carriage without permission. Otto was tempted to scold him…but the will to do so did not find his vocal cords.

With a defeated sigh, Otto stood up. “Hello there, um—”

“Collin! Collin Labrille! I’m the rep here in Ginev!”

“Uh-huh…”

Compared to Otto’s complete lack of enthusiasm, Collin was overflowing with the stuff. His thinning hair and goatee were turning white, hinting at his age, but he was so vivacious that the spit flying from his mouth reached all the way to the back of the cart where Otto stood.

Otto timidly wiped his face and said, “So, Mr. Collin, what business do you have with a lowly merchant such as myself—?”

“Right! Well, you see, I had an important matter to discuss, so I was looking for you!”

Otto was already well aware Collin had been looking for him.

“After all, I could hear a voice clear from the other end of town…”

“Did the voice say anything to you?!”

“No, not especially. Perhaps I misheard.”

“Aha, yes! Misheard it! But if we perceive that as a divine revelation, then it is indeed a good omen!”

With that incredibly convenient interpretation, Collin firmly clenched his fist, then offered his free hand to Otto, who was standing frozen to the spot.

“Come, now! Let’s not chat in a cramped space like this! Let’s go to my house, merchant! Then I’ll tell you the very important matter I wish to discuss!”

Otto realized he couldn’t refuse. But he wanted to avoid having his dragon carriage getting soaked by more of Collin’s flying spit. He didn’t care if people mocked its cramped size, this dragon carriage was a beloved companion of many years on the road with Otto.

“My condolences, Young Master.”

A voice called out to Otto as he turned to follow the exultant old man out of the cart. His companion’s sympathy was sincere.

Otto sighed heavily. “This is why I wanted to hit the road quickly…”

“A few seconds wouldn’t have made a difference. You really do have bad timing, Young Master.”

“Can’t say you’re wrong there…”

At a loss for words, Otto raised both hands in defeat.

“Hmm-hmm? Merchant, who are you talking to?”

Collin suddenly stopped in his tracks, his eyes darting around in confusion. He couldn’t see anyone Otto might be talking to. For there wasn’t anyone there.

There were no people nearby with whom Otto might be speaking.

Unfortunately, Otto had no reason to explain everything to him. So he simply shrugged and replied, “I wasn’t talking to anyone, sir. Maybe you misheard?”

“Hmm-hmm, a lot of mishearing today, I see… A succession of good omens! Our stream overfloweth with hope! You’ve got good fortune, merchant!”

Otto thought mishearing things again and again wasn’t a sign of good fortune but one of illness. He didn’t press any more, smiling weakly and saying, “Thank you, sir,” instead.

“Good grief…”

Only the blue-scaled land dragon offered a sigh at Otto’s forced smile.

2

Ginev was an inconspicuous town nestled between the mountains in southern Lugunica. Originally, a nearby magic crystal mine had prompted the founding of this town to house the miners and their families. It started as a small settlement, then grew little by little into the town it was today.

“The only problem was, the ore vein they built this town for dried up. Oops! My grandfather moved here, hoping it would be like a second Costuul—what a disappointment that must have been!”

“The mining city of Costuul? Well, yes, the kingdom’s magic crystal industry does mostly have a monopoly on their bottomless vein of ore. It’s rumored a dragon used to nest there.”

“Ooh! How knowledgeable you are! Just what a man who makes a living by trade needs to be!”

Collin hurled compliments and spit as he sat across from Otto. It was all the latter could do to keep his forced smile as he dodged the spit and conversation flying at the sofa where he sat.

Collin had interrupted Otto’s departure and brought him to the biggest mansion in the town—that being said, it was no comparison to a real mansion in the royal capital, but it was certainly the most luxurious house in Ginev.

It appeared Collin was not lying when he said he was the town representative. Ordinarily, Otto would gladly welcome becoming acquainted with more influential people across the land, but this time, the circumstances were slightly different. Because of that, Otto indulged the old man in the obligatory small talk before lowering his eyebrows into a serious expression and plunging into the topic at hand.

“Now then, Mr. Collin… Why did you wish to speak with me here?”

Collin grunted.

“As you know, I’m a merchant… I don’t like to stay too long in one place, especially when there’s no coin in it for me. I’ve already finished my business in Ginev. I would like to cross these mountains as soon as possible—”

“That’s why.”

This stopped Otto’s quick yet carefully worded excuse in its tracks. Collin had thrust out a palm in front of Otto’s uncomfortable face. As Otto awkwardly closed his mouth at the man’s coarse manners, he repeated the words, “That’s why,” then followed them up.

“I wanted to consult you, merchant, because you’re going to cross those mountains!”

Here it comes…

Otto steeled himself, hoping to hide his anxiety.

The mountain pass—currently the only way to reach Ginev. The only way in and out involved taking the road from the foot of the mountain. Along the way, there was a bridge spanning a river at the bottom of the valley, but at present, the bridge was uncrossable.

“I’m sure you’re aware of this, merchant, but the big storm we just had swelled up the river at the bottom of the valley. The bridge connecting with the road at the foot of the mountain got washed away, so now there’s no way for anyone to get on the mountain road that leads to this town!”

As Collin said, the bridge was washed away by the flooded river, essentially turning Ginev into an island. That said, it was not entirely cut off from the outside world. Instead of the path by the river, there was a steep, twisting mountain path that could be taken.

However, this path was not only dangerous, but it also took several times longer than simply crossing the bridge. Ginev’s commerce was hardly enticing enough to go to such lengths.

Being a mountain town, Ginev was always self-reliant to an extent. The absence of merchants for a few months did not trigger a life-or-death situation. That was why the people of Ginev simply assumed they wouldn’t see merchants for a while—and yet Otto had come.

“I thought I’d have to wait until the bridge was repaired, but your arrival here was truly a good omen! I may have plenty to eat, but I have no way to get luxury goods here!”

“Then that’s fortunate for both of us. It’s been a while since my wallet has been so full…”

“Oh my, oh my! Well, merchant, you are a strange fellow! The bridge fell a few days ago, yet here you are in Ginev—I can only assume you chose the treacherous mountain path before the bridge fell! For a businessman who detests hassle, it seems like such an unnecessary detour!”

Otto said nothing.

“Unless you know something? Something that avoids the treacherous mountain road? A way that lets you cross the bridgeless river without magic, hmm? I do say, I believe you must know a special way to cross the mountain and reach Ginev!”

Otto sighed as Collin leaned forward, opened his bloodshot eyes wide, sending spittle flying as he rambled. What he lacked in social graces, Collin more than made up for with his deductive reasoning.

The truth was that Otto made the decision to do business in Ginev because he heard the bridge had fallen. He realized he could mark up prices there and turn a huge profit, so he hurried there as quickly as he could.

Yet Otto had not crossed the flooded river, nor had he scaled the treacherous mountain path.

His successful business venture had come about by a means inaccessible to anyone else.

“Yes, but this is a trade secret… I can’t tell anyone. It’s only an advantage if I’m the only one who knows about it. If I shared it with others—”

“Oh, of course! Of course, of course! But why don’t you hear me out and see if you can’t bend the rules a little? I’ve got special circumstances!”

“Special circumstances?”

Otto’s eyes widened. Collin eagerly nodded in reply. Then, turning to face the door to the parlor, he yelled, “Come on out!” louder than necessary. The door timidly opened to reveal a thin young man, white in the face.

He was probably about five years older than Otto. He had a strikingly large mole beside the bridge of his nose, and he appeared very frail. He stared down at the ground and mumbled, “N-nice to meet you…”

“This is Arhim, my son! You see, this all affects Arhim! Come, now! Explain everything to the merchant!”

“Oh-ohh…”

Collin firmly grabbed his son by the shoulder and sat him down beside him. Shriveling completely under his father’s treatment, Arhim glanced at Otto, looked away, then repeated this.

The needlessly energetic father and the lethargic son…were polar opposites.

“So, Arhim, I suppose you want to talk with me…get my help, rather.”

“W-well, yes…um, so…in the mountains…um…Marone is… Well, you see…”

Otto raised a questioning eyebrow.

“There’s this girl named Marone, you see! She’s my son’s fiancée!”

Unable to stand the suspense any longer, Collin butted in and explained for his son. The latter looked relieved, and Otto politely listened to Collin tell the rest of the disjointed story.

“So if I’m understanding correctly, Arhim’s fiancée Marone was kidnapped by ruffians in the mountains. And you want me to help rescue her…”

“Exactly! Of course!” Collin barked, red in the face. “I went into town hoping to hire a local hero for a scouting mission led by my son…but all I did was learn the town is full of cowards! A tragedy!”

“Hm, cowards, you say…?” Otto mused.

“A fragile young woman was taken away by horrible men! Were I young again, I wouldn’t take it lying down! I would gather all the people in town and rip those fools limb from limb!”

And the person who seemed to be the biggest coward in town was shrinking smaller and smaller beside Collin. But Otto sympathized with timid Arhim and with the townspeople as well. He couldn’t blame them.

It was common for people to take up arms and fall into banditry when they were at the end of their rope. And a bandit’s willingness to risk life and limb was completely incomparable to someone with a family and a steady job. Cowardice was sometimes necessary for survival.

Otto did not think it shameful to avoid a fight if it meant he could live another day. That was why he sympathized more with the townsfolk lumped together as cowards, rather than with Collin.

“But still…” Otto put a hand to his chin and pondered the ruffians who had brought the crisis to Ginev. Of course it was unfortunate, but Ginev was always a haven for bandits, since it didn’t have much contact with the outside world. If anything, it was miraculous that nothing of the sort had ever happened here before.

Therefore, it was necessary to devise a countermeasure for the present and for the future.

“Merchant! Are you listening?!”

“Huh? Oh, um, yes. Sorry. I was just thinking…”

Otto was under no obligation to rack his brain and solve the security issues of a town he had no relation to, but he had the nasty habit of needing to fill any holes he happened to spot.

Of course, he spent most of his time trying to convince himself the most important thing in life was self-reliance…

“Point being! This is an urgent emergency! Miss Marone was kidnapped two nights ago! The longer it takes to save her, the greater in danger she is…and lo and behold, I cross paths with a merchant who braved the mountain! Now, what else could you call this but fate?!”

“A coincidence, maybe…?”

“What else could you call it but fate?!”

He repeated himself, his expression growing even wilder. Collin’s sheer fervor shut Otto’s mouth.

Putting aside his annoyance at Collin’s aggressiveness, Otto was genuinely concerned for the kidnapped girl’s well-being. He was not so heartless to dismiss the plight of a fragile young girl as a matter of self-reliance. Aiding Collin’s efforts to form a scouting team held far more humanity than giving up and abandoning her did.

“……Hngh.”

Now if only the man gallantly rallying people for a rescue party was not his father but the whimpering, shriveling fiancé instead, this would be the stuff of legend.

“Now, merchant, what say you?!”

Otto was between a rock and a hard place—the appeal to his humanity versus his business sense. But the choice was made for him the moment he set foot in that mansion. If he refused Collin’s request, that would most likely doom the fiancée of the son of the village head, and Otto would never be able to do business in Ginev again.

Yet if he agreed to Collin’s request and revealed his secret, he would be giving up the one advantage he had, which would be a major loss.

Otto had one viable option.

“I cannot tell you the method I used to get here.”

Collin frowned sternly. “Oh! Merchant, are you saying you will abandon an innocent young lady—?”

“—Let me finish!”

Otto thrust out the palm of his hand, silencing the village head. Collin balked in surprise, and Otto chuckled at getting one over on him.

“I will personally deliver your request for help to the outside. Meanwhile, the villagers must do everything to get that bridge repaired as quickly as possible.”

With that, Otto had amended the proposal so that he would incur a small loss instead of a large one.

3

“Young Master… Nothing’s changed. You’re still being taken advantage of.”

“Rude. I think you meant to say I made a great decision that will reduce harm as much as possible. Even I’m well aware I’ve taken on a needless burden.”

As he gripped the reins and sat in the driver’s seat of the cart, Otto pursed his lips and argued with his partner. The land dragon merely sighed tiredly and replied with a knowing “Yeah, sure.”

Otto growled in protest, but secretly, he agreed. He knew he was being exploited. That was a fact. As a merchant and as a human being, Collin had completely outplayed him.

“I should have pretended I didn’t hear him and left town. But my slow reaction got me caught up in trouble. Then again, if I’d left, then that poor kidnapped woman…”

“Now that you know she’s in trouble, you can’t turn a blind eye. You could never play the villain, Young Master.”

“Oh, please. I know what’s most important. And if what’s important to me is threatened, I’ll fight back. You’re near the top of that list, Fulfew.”

“Yes, yes, thank you so very much.”

The dragon’s perfunctory response earned another growl from Otto, but the former couldn’t stop smirking.

At present, Otto was traveling to the town closest to Ginev, per Collin’s request. He would aid in the kidnapped young woman’s rescue but not reveal his secret route. Caught between people and profit, Otto had been forced to make a difficult choice.

Naturally, he was not helping out of the goodness of his heart. The Labrille family promised Otto in writing that he would receive preferential treatment in all business dealings in Ginev. Looking at the facts, it was a strategic negotiation that not only saved a life but gave him an edge in business. Yet he felt a great sense of defeat…because of his pettiness, perhaps.

“No, that’s not it. Isn’t it simply because the deal came with a ball and chain?” Otto’s companion asked, reading his mind.

Otto sighed. Behind him in the dragon carriage there was a person, not cargo. It was a young man, hugging his knees to himself and shrinking into a ball—Arhim, the pitiful man whose bride-to-be had been kidnapped.

When drawing up the agreement with Otto, Arhim’s accompaniment was the one provision Collin refused to budge on.

“With his fiancée kidnapped, he’s already a laughingstock as the Labrille heir! If he sat on his hands while somebody else rescued her, the shame would stain his reputation forever!!”

That was Collin’s argument as he gruffly pushed his son forward and sent him flying. Otto did see the merit in his argument, but that meant the role of restoring Arhim’s reputation would fall on him. He pushed back hard, but in the end, he was forced to allow Arhim’s company on the journey. Because of this, Otto’s dragon carriage was the gloomiest it had ever felt.

Arhim didn’t speak much after he got in the cart. Since the wind repel blessing was activated in the coach, the ride was perfectly smooth, so his silence must have come from an emotional issue.

“When family matters and lady troubles collide, it’s just one hassle after another,” Otto remarked.

“That remark has hidden implications, coming from you, Young Master. I reckon if you went back home now, that girl would huff and puff and boil you in oil.”

“The very idea is demoralizing, so I don’t even want to think about it.”

The problematic matter Otto had left behind in his home village made him twist his face and shake his head in protest. His profession as a traveling merchant was part of it, but Otto had not been to his family home in years. If he went home, he would burden his family. (Also, his life would be in danger.)

“What cruel circumstances. I’m used to it, though…but I don’t like that I’m used to it.”

“Wh-who are you talking to?”

Otto’s shoulders tensed as he looked behind him. It was Arhim, who was no longer curled up in a ball in the wagon bed but hovering over the driver’s seat.

Arhim nervously looked around to make sure nobody was around and frowned dubiously. “Nobody’s here, but it sounded like you were talking to somebody, so…well, it just felt unsettling.”

“Oh, don’t mind me. I have a bad habit of talking to myself.”

“Oh, r-really?”

“The majority of a merchant’s life is spent on the road with nobody to talk to, you see. Apparently, many people like me have adopted the habit of talking to the air.”

“Huh…that’s rather sad. I’m glad I’m not a merchant.”

The sympathy in Arhim’s voice made Otto sense a strong blood connection between him and Collin for the first time. Their mannerisms couldn’t be more different, but at their core, the father and son were very similar.

“What do you need?” Otto asked him. “We won’t arrive in town for a while yet…”

“I n-need to pee… Could we pull over somewhere?”

“Oh. Okay. Yes, that’s definitely important.”

When it came to necessary bodily functions, even Arhim could muster up what little courage he had. Otto and his dragon carriage would both be devastated if it were defiled first by the father’s spit and next by the son’s piss.

Otto immediately tugged on the reins and pulled the dragon carriage over on the edge of the mountain road. Arhim thanked him, climbed down, and retreated into some bushes.

“Ideally, he would have taken care of that before we left…”

“He’s not used to travel like we are. Go easy on him.”

With a smirk at his grumbling companion, Otto quietly waited for Arhim to return from doing his business. The thought that they still had a long, silent journey ahead of them filled Otto with a heavy sense of dread—

“H-hey! Come here a second!”

“Huh?”

Arhim’s shouting from the bushes yanked Otto out of his thoughts. Otto’s eyes darted from the driving platform to the trees, but he couldn’t see Arhim.

“Arhim? Is something wrong?”

“P-please come! There’s an insect I’ve never seen…a-and it bit me in a strange place!”

“What ‘strange place’ is that, dare I ask…? Ugh, give me a break…”

Otto scratched his head in disgust and jumped off the driving platform. He scurried into the bushes and wandered for some time before he spotted Arhim from behind.

Otto’s shoulders slumped in annoyance. Why did he need to go so far away to pee? Insect bites were par for the course when traveling, but getting bitten in a strange place was a rather big deal.

“Arhim, show me where…no, scratch that, don’t show me the bug-bite. It’s just…if it’s swollen, that might be deadly, so we need to treat it as soon as possible—”

Otto carried basic medical supplies in the carriage, so he could handle simple first aid. That was what he had meant when he said that.

But the next thing he knew—

“Gwuh?!”

He crouched in the grass, then sensed a presence. Not a moment later, he felt something heavy deliver a sharp blow to the back of his head, and his vision blurred.

He grunted in pain and tried to regain his footing, but it was no use. The heaviness of his head caused his body to pitch forward. And unable to stop himself, he fell down.

His face hit the ground. He was in pain. He tasted dirt.

As his consciousness faded, a passing thought entered Otto’s mind.

Ugh…I hope I didn’t fall next to the spot where Arhim peed.

4

“You awake?”

“…Hngh?”

Otto let out a dumb grunt as his face was rubbed by a cold cloth. He opened his eyes. His vision was blurry. After many blinks, his eyes gradually focused, and he slowly noticed the face of a red-haired woman peering into his.

Her red hair was abundant with luster and tied back behind her head. She was a beauty with a spirited glint in her eye. She was gorgeous, but her faint fatigue and the filth on her clothing shadowed that.

“Where…am I?”

“Shh, quiet. The people upstairs will hear you.”

Otto was so parched, the first thing he said came out raspy. The beautiful woman pressed a finger to her lips and dragged the water bucket from her side to him. Then she scooped some water in her hand and moistened Otto’s gasping lips. After tasting the beauty’s kindness many times, Otto finally managed to settle down.

“Thank…you. Um…who are you?”

“Slave Number One, also known as ‘Captured Princess Number One.’ You’re Number Two. Choose whichever you prefer.”

“Wow, what a choice. Don’t think I can really pull off ‘Princess Number Two,’ so I’ll go with the other one.”

For all the banter, it was clear they were in a rather grim situation. The forced cheer in Otto’s voice earned him a small smile from the woman.

“You’re tougher than you look. I’m Marone. Welcome, junior.”

“That’s the most horrible welcome I’ve ever received. Junior, my… Wait, did you just say your name was Marone?”

“I did.”

The beauty tilted her head inquisitively, and Otto attempted to clutch his head, but the restraint on his right arm wouldn’t allow that. That’s when he noticed he was chained to the wall.

“……Well, this is awful.”

“Is it? Better than a collar, though, don’t you think? I begged and begged and finally improved the conditions down here.”

“Improved the conditions? More like a stopgap request to trick the people above… Hold on, if you’re Marone, and I’m chained up here with you, that must mean…”

It was times like this that made Otto resent his average intelligence.

Otto’s brain immediately connected the dots on the information Collin gave him back in Ginev and the situation he was in right then. Marone was captured, and Otto got knocked out and captured. He was chained to the wall and awarded the title Slave Number Two. No mistaking it—he was in the base of the ruffians.

“I can see what’s happening… Yeesh, what a dreadful sight.”

Otto took in his immediate surroundings, which only made his mood nose-dive. Understandably so. After all, they were locked in a cell made of stone and closed off with iron bars.

On the icy-cold stone floor were dirty cloths and fragments of elaborate pottery strewn about. There was a passageway on the other side of the iron bars, but it was not lit, so Otto could not see where it led. Based on the chill in the air, he sensed they were locked up deep within a cave.

“Just a wild guess, but…does that passageway lead to the old mine?”

“Oh, you’re smart. Let me guess, you had a stroke of bad luck and got caught up in all this?”

“Well…I’m not too sure. Stroke of bad luck doesn’t sound too far off, though.”

He flashed a cynical smirk and looked about the area to see if there was anyone else in there besides them. Judging by the layout, it was hard to imagine there was another cell right beside them…

“So, um, was I the only one who was taken? Was there someone else with me?”

“It was just you… Did you have a friend with you?”

“Well, not a friend, exactly, but he’s not somebody I’d feel good about abandoning… He’s a lanky man, a little taller and older than me.”

“Lanky and older… Any other defining characteristics?”

As Marone fell into thought, Otto put his free hand on his chin and said thoughtfully, “Now that you mention it, he has a big mole beside his nose. He also looks a little sickly…”

“……Yes, that’s enough information. That’s plenty.”

Otto raised an eyebrow.

“That coward—don’t tell me he abandoned a total stranger this time?!”

“Whoa, what’re you—?!”

As Marone let out a red-faced howl of anger, Otto nervously looked up at the ceiling. The same person who told him to quiet down moments ago was now shouting at the top of her lungs. Otto’s gasp of shock had been every bit as loud. Both voices had echoed dreadfully down the corridor.

“Um, aren’t there a number of reasons we shouldn’t be screaming right now?!”

Marone huffed. “I’m sorry. I just lost my temper there… I still have much to learn as a senior slave.”

“Um, I’m sorry, is this really a matter of slavery?! What the hell is going on here…?”

Otto’s rebuke was cut short by the sound of several footsteps—followed shortly by the entrance of some savagely dressed men beyond the cell. With sinister sneers on their faces, they clapped their hands when they noticed that Otto was awake.

“Look who’s up. Widdle Slave Number Two!”

“…So I really am Slave Number Two?” Otto muttered to Marone.

“They say it’s tradition. I wish the tradition would just rot away along with these scumbags.”

“Spunky as ever, aren’t we, Number One?”

The men laughed off Marone’s insult with a whistle. From the filthy clothes and unrefined manners, they were the sort of bandits you’d expect to find in a fairy tale. They surely had to be the rumored ruffians of Ginev. And their hideout was in a dried-up mine shaft—considering the history of Ginev’s founding, it was laughably ironic.

“I suppose it’s a rather pleasant place to live, if you ignore the lack of light.”

“Oh, harsh words! I’m glad you don’t keep your trap shut, Number Two. After all, if you were tight-lipped, it’d be hard to get information outta ya. I don’t enjoy torturing guys, you know.”

“Dear sirs, might I ask where my land dragon and carriage may be? I do believe I parked them near this very mine shaft.”

Otto ignored their teasing and asked about the things most important to him in as polite a tone as he could muster. It was hard to believe the bandits had not seen his dragon carriage parked by the side of the road. Surely they would have taken his cargo, too. And they had no logical reason to kill a tamed land dragon.

“Don’t worry. Your merchant’s equipment, your cash, each and every item… Well, let’s just say we’re taking good care of it. Your land dragon probably doesn’t like you anymore now that you’re a slave. It just snubbed you and started working for us. We’ve been wanting a land dragon, so this is perfect timing.”

“Is that…so? Well, I’m glad to hear it…”

The men chortled over Otto’s dejection as he bitterly bit his lip and looked down. Hearing their reactions, Otto quickly put a lid on the emotions swirling in his heart. He was already in a terrible situation, but there was still something he needed to find out.

“And what became of the gentleman who was with me?”

“Huh?”

“Now, don’t try to tell me you were so distracted by me and my carriage that you didn’t see him.”

He needed to find out if Arhim was safe. But Otto’s assessment of the situation was rather grim. Arhim wasn’t in the cell. Had he been captured alive, there was no reason he wouldn’t have been enslaved as well. Here, beside him and Marone, presumably. So his absence had dark implications…

But as the worst-case scenario entered Otto’s mind, the men glanced at one another and betrayed his expectations.

“Oh right, him. That guy with you. We let him go. He’s probably run back to his village and is crying to his annoying daddy.”

“……You let him go?”

“Yeah, we sent him home with a gift. He had a real scare, and we can be merciful when we want to. Right, guys?!”

The man’s hammy line was answered by rambunctious laughter and agreement from his buddies.

But Otto didn’t have time to play along. The men released Arhim—that was what they said. They let a man go who saw their faces and knew their crimes.

He knew what that must mean. And when he arrived at his conclusion, Otto was in a daze.

“Arhim was…colluding with you guys the whole time?”

“Oh, don’t make it sound so sinister! Call it a mutually beneficial relationship, Number Two!”

Most of the puzzle pieces fell into place for Otto after that confirmation. The reason Arhim had joined him on the road, the reason he lied about needing to relieve himself by the side of the road, and the reason he called Otto into the bushes—everything was to silence a man who stood in his way and to secure another slave.

Otto fell right for that young man’s ploy. Assuming Arhim was a frail coward was his biggest miscalculation. Suddenly, he didn’t find Collin funny at all anymore.

“Well, you just stay right there for a while, okay? We were just thinking it was high time we moved on to a new town anyway. Just sit back, relax, and enjoy your time as an aspiring slave.”

Seeing the silent Otto in a daze, the man tapped the iron bars and laughed.

“Enjoy what, you bastards…? The next time you come near me, it’ll be death by a thousand bites for you!”

“Whoo-hoo, I’m shaking in my boots, Number One. See, that’s why your man tossed you aside.”

And with that goofy insult, the men walked away, leaving the slaves behind in their cell. Until the sound of their footsteps disappeared, neither Otto nor Marone said a word.

Before long, the light in the corridor went out, plunging the cold dungeon into darkness once again.

5

“That guy and I were never engaged in the first place.”

“Even that wasn’t true…?” Otto meekly murmured, still reeling from all the shocking revelations.

His expression was every bit as pathetic as his voice would suggest. A while after the bandits’ taunting, Otto spoke up to Marone in the darkness so they could exchange information and learn more about each other.

Otto had been explaining that he had taken on a job request in Ginev involving Arhim and Marone, only for her to reveal that she had had been duped from the very beginning.

Just how deep did the lies go? Just how shady of a place was Ginev anyway?

“So were Collin and Arhim both in on it? They joined forces with the ruffians living outside their town to prey on their own subjects?”

“I don’t think the situation is that helpless. Collin never listens to people, and he’s unconsciously passive-aggressive, but he hates crime.”

“Well, he also seems like he’d be bad at acting anyway…”

He was certainly a man who didn’t seem like he would keep secrets. But it also meant he was honest to a fault. When Marone confirmed Collin’s lack of involvement, Otto pondered Arhim’s one-man crime—well, many-man crime, now that it was clear he was working with the bandits.

“But if all that’s true, then doesn’t that conflict with what Collin said?” Otto asked.

“Hmm… Well, pardon me for saying so, but I’m pretty, aren’t I?”

“It’s a level of self-praise that’s infuriating to agree with—but sure. You’re pretty.”

“So Arhim and his father both probably thought if they told people he was engaged to a beauty like me, they could both avoid being a laughingstock. That’s the kind of relationship they have.”

“Oh, please, that’s…ridiculous………”

Otto held his tongue as he remembered what the father and son were like together. Collin had tried to take away his son’s right to choose for himself. And Arhim the doormat probably harbored resentment over that. Otto wished, however, that he and Marone could have been spared becoming sacrifices for their egos.

“Days ago, Arhim took me into the woods to tell me something. I didn’t want to go. There’s bandits in the mountains, obviously, and more than a few girls had already been kidnapped.”

“W-w-wait. Just wait a minute.”

As Otto abruptly stopped her, Marone gave him a wary look back. But he had to stop her. The casual way with which she’d tossed out the bombshell was just too shocking.

“So…you weren’t the first person to be kidnapped by the bandits?”

“Of course I wasn’t. There’s way more besides me. When I first came here, I was Slave Number Two… Get my drift?”

“We can get promotions…?”

Otto did not want to imagine what had happened to all the Slave Number Ones before her. Young women kidnapped by ruffians usually wound up becoming prostitutes or sold as slaves.

“Don’t worry, they haven’t laid a finger on me. I’m high-quality, you see… They say I’ll sell for a lot of coin.”

Otto pursed his lips in silence.

“They brought you here for questioning; that’s what they said when you arrived. They say they need your cooperation to make it safely over the mountains.”

“……And only Arhim and Collin know about this?”

“I’m afraid so.”

With a clanging of the chains that bound her, Marone drove the final nail into Otto’s coffin of misfortune. But thanks to that, the pieces of the puzzle had all fallen into place.

He did think it odd once before. That Ginev, a village that was a perfect target for villains, had miraculously not once fallen into crisis. He now knew the reason why—and it was no miracle. The villagers just conveniently ignored when harm was visited on their neighbors and took solace in the fact that not everyone had fallen victim.

“But this time, Collin took action,” Otto said. “When his son’s fiancée was kidnapped, that was the last straw.”

“Then again, his son was the one who handed the aforementioned fiancée to the bandits on a silver platter. Did the idea of his father finding out really scare him that badly? Meanwhile, Number Two, you were just caught up in all this.”

“So were you, Marone.”

Everything started with that father-son feud. The son’s self-serving facade, fueled by his immature ways, and the town’s top beauty being used as a convenient excuse. Then there was Otto, the poor innocent bystander.

“I don’t think my bad luck can get any worse…”

Marone was unlucky to get caught up in the chaos, but her misfortune didn’t hold a candle to Otto’s. What started as a profitable business trip only he could pull off quickly became a disaster that resulted in his dragon carriage being stolen and his own life being put in jeopardy.

“Th-there, there, don’t be such a worrywart. As long as you’re alive, good things will come your way. Maybe we’ll get lucky, and somebody will come to our rescue.”

“Rescue us? The poor saps who got caught in an idiot’s face-saving ego trip? Who would rescue us?”

“M-maybe a wandering knight?”

Hah, what a lovely fantasy.

Otto had to give credit where it was due—Marone was resilient. She had been locked up in this cell and suffered much longer than he had, but the part of her that was not bound in chains—her spirit—had not been worn down in the slightest.

That was a virtue. A virtue polished to a miraculous shine, considering it came from Ginev.

“But remember, I’m a merchant.”

Fatalism suited him very well. Merchants did not believe in absolutes. They also didn’t take their safety for granted.

Because of this, Otto grew more and more pessimistic by the minute, dreaming up awful scenario after awful scenario. Nobody would come rescue them. Convenient plot twists like that never happened in real life. As a merchant, he needed to trust not in fate but only in the solid assets within his reach.

6

“Still can’t believe the last guy we captured has a blessing. We sure are lucky!” one of the bandits said, with a smile at Otto, who was tied to the bed of his carriage.

The morning after their little exchange in the cell, Otto was stuffed in his own carriage as cargo and coerced by the bandits into helping guide them safely over the mountain road.

He had only been imprisoned for a day, but the sunlight and outside air already felt like lost old friends to him.

But there was no time to wallow in self-pity.

The bandits had decided to move on from Ginev. So before Collin could manage to send someone after them who was a real threat, they would need to cross the mountains and set up camp in their next hunting ground. Otto’s carriage was perfect for this, and Otto and Marone themselves were treated as spoils. Their misfortune had peaked.

“Hey, Number Two, can’t your blessing get us out of this mess somehow?” Marone whispered to Otto as they lay huddled in the dragon carriage. She was their prized merchandise, which meant the bandits didn’t treat her too poorly. At the very least, she rode in luxury compared to Otto, who was haphazardly tied up and tossed in the back. Still, one was hardly better than the other.

Otto took Marone’s hand and managed to sit himself up against the wall. “What do you mean ‘somehow’? What exactly are you hoping for?”

Marone pondered Otto’s question. “I dunno, like maybe the next time I blink my eyes, all the ruffians will explode…?”

“Isn’t that an awful lot to demand of a blessing?!”

“Don’t get me wrong. I’m not pinning my hopes on your blessing. I’m putting my faith in you, Number Two.”

“You’re counting on me, a guy whose name you don’t even know?! How crazy are you?!”

Marone smiled faintly. She spoke of hope with that fragile smile on her face, but really, she was just desperately trying to stop her heart from shattering under the weight of despair.

“……Your blessing is guidance, right? That’s what I heard you say.”

“Yes, that’s right. Sorry to say, it’s not particularly powerful. I don’t think it can blow up our enemies.”

The blessing of guidance—that was what Otto had told the bandits. The bandits had heard from Arhim that Otto knew a way to cross the mountains without taking the fallen bridge or the treacherous mountain path—simple trickery would not work on them. So before they tortured him, Otto decided to preemptively reveal his blessing.

Blessings were something a person received at birth, and generally speaking, they were supernatural abilities. This rare power, granted to one in a thousand, gave its keeper unique abilities. It was different from magic, and more than a handful of the effects surpassed the bounds of common sense.

The blessing Otto spoke of could only be described as one of those supernatural abilities that fell outside the norm.

“It’s a tricky blessing to actually use,” Otto informed her. “It’s not as powerful as the name implies.”

“But you made it from the underground cell to the exit blindfolded because of it, right? I think that’s pretty darn impressive.”

Mistaking his attitude for modesty or self-deprecation, Marone immediately leaped to Otto’s defense. Marone was referencing the moment when Otto revealed his blessing to the bandits.

When they found out the bandits planned on crossing the mountains to skip town, Otto had to prove to them that they needed his help to escape. So Otto revealed his blessing to them, and to prove he had it, he had demonstrated he could traverse the mine shaft effortlessly from the underground cell in the hideout all the way to the exit while blindfolded.

“Because of my blessing, I know the safest way out. We’ll be going on an animal trail, not a proper mountain road, but I know what I’m doing.”

“Besides, now that they know you’ve got a blessing, they won’t kill you. They were really excited about it. Apparently, you’ll sell for a lot of money.”

“Yaaay, that makes me so happy I was born with my powers!” Otto joked. “If I didn’t have my blessing, I wouldn’t have been captured in the first place.”

While most considered a blessing as nothing but a convenience, those who had one knew it often came with a lot of hardships. And many of those hardships could not be understood even by others with blessings of their own.

The struggles of people whose blessings made them see too much and people whose blessings made them hear too much were like night and day.

Otto decided to vaguely laugh off Marone’s claim with a sarcastic joke. She meant well, but his blessing had endangered his life—that was a fact.

“If I didn’t have a blessing, then…”

“Huh? Did you say something, Number Two?”

“Nothing worth repeating. Can I ask you a favor…?”

As far as Otto knew, in the whole of history, never once had complaining gotten someone out of a bad situation. Otto masked his grumbles behind a cynical smile and instead asked Marone one simple favor.

“…!”

When she heard what it was, her eyes shot open. Then she stared hard at Otto, trying to determine how serious he was being, when…

“Hey, time to go! Squeeze in tight, slaves! We can’t fit everyone in unless we squeeze!”

Spit flying, the bandits ambled into the carriage. Otto and Marone were yanked apart, and the cart was filled with the loudness and stench of the men.

One of the bandits sat on the driver’s platform, gripped the reins, and commanded the land dragon to take off. The land dragon hesitated for a moment but quickly began to trot.

“Okay, we’re counting on you to navigate, Two. You’re all we’ve got to rely on. Otherwise, poor Number One is gonna be in for a world of hurt.”

With a sadistic smile and a savage demeanor, the bandit threatened Otto by putting a knife to Marone’s throat. Otto obediently used his blessing to guide the carriage.

“Good thing you’re cooperative. Now we don’t have to resort to drastic measures.”

“And what do you mean by ‘drastic measures’…?”

“Rough you both up a little, of course. We’re peaceful guys. Resortin’ to violence would just break our widdle hearts!” The man beside him smirked, griping his dirty club in hand. Upon closer inspection, the tip of the club was dyed in dark red, revealing just how “peaceful” they were.

“Take the next right,” Otto said. “After a little while, you’ll come upon an animal trail. The dragon carriage can just barely fit, but keep going.”

Before the driver could ask, Otto took the initiative and told them the way. The bandits were a little guarded at first, but with each new naturally hidden path Otto revealed to them, they understood the power of his blessing and came to accept it.

“I’m still surprised by this last-minute treasure we stumbled upon. That coward really pulled through for us, huh?”

Feeling more relaxed and confident, one of the men let out a boastful chuckle. Otto had an idea of who this “coward” was.

“May I ask, exactly what sort of deal did you gentlemen have with Arhim?”

“What, wonderin’ about the guy who sold you out? Well, I guess you would.”

Sensing negativity in Otto’s gaze, the man smiled thinly and continued. “A while after we started messing with Ginev, he brought a woman with him to our hideout. He said he would let us have her if we promised to stop harming the town—can you believe the nerve?”

“…And you agreed to his terms?”

“Don’t be stupid. You think one woman was enough? We told him to bring us booze and food, too. That was the sorta deal we had with the kid. Though I guess his daddy got mad about it after what we did this time.”

In other words, Arhim was the architect of their arrangement, and until Marone, business had been going well.

Peace in exchange for the common sense of the townsfolk.

Otto nodded. “Thanks for the information… That’s all I need.”

The bandit smiled smugly. “Oh yeah?”

Otto thanked him and glanced sideways at Marone. She was blue in the face, hearing what had been going on in the town she called home. She knew the truth, but it did little to comfort her. Comfort was a sentiment that would only have meaning to a certain person afterward. The end of the road for Otto and Marone was nigh.

“Mh… Ngh… Zz…”

Otto’s strange sounds received no particular reaction from the bandits. He had told them this was important when using his blessing—a necessary ritual, essentially.

And that was a lie.

“Number One.”

Otto’s strange chant abruptly cut off, and his speech reverted to normal. As soon as she heard it, Marone lifted her head. He had asked her for a favor earlier.

If he called her “Number One” as they traveled the mountain path…

“…!”

Marone gritted her teeth, grabbed the chains tying her arms, moved over to the wall of the carriage, and held on tight. While the bandits were startled by her actions, Otto firmly yanked the chains around his wrists.

Before the bandits could mull over exactly what he was planning—

“Young Master—please don’t get yourself killed!”

His partner’s voice was a perfect mixture of trust and reckless abandon. The next thing anyone knew, the dragon carriage violently lurched sideways, sending the unrestrained men screaming and hurtling out.

Everything flipped upside down as the carriage tumbled toward the valley nestled in the trees.

7

“So how’d we wind up getting rescued…?” Marone asked him in the hospital waiting room, her head bound in bandages.

She was right to ask that question. But Otto—his neck and head wrapped in bandages and one arm in a sling—raised his uninjured shoulder in a shrug.

“Eh, no need to worry yourself over the details. A wandering knight didn’t storm in and rescue us, but we survived, so all’s well that ends well.”

“You know, I get the feeling you’re playing me, Number Two…”

“We just happened to stay in the cart since we were chained to the wall, and the others unluckily fell out. And right by a cliff, at that. Super bad luck.”

“Well, what goes around comes around, but still. Hmm…”

Marone didn’t look entirely convinced. Otto smiled sheepishly at her.

Otto was in a hospital at his destination, a town at the foot of the mountain. Just as he planned, he had successfully crossed the mountains. However, the passengers who were supposed to be with him were not there, and only his senior slave he met along the way—now free from captivity—was with him.

“I filled them in on all the necessary details while they were treating you, Marone. I explained how the bandits were using the abandoned mine shaft and that Arhim was secretly helping them.”

“……So is the crown going to send their army to Ginev?”

“It probably won’t escalate into something big, but the authorities will conduct a formal investigation, yes. And I’m certain Arhim will be arrested; he can’t talk his way out of this.”

As soon as the bridge was repaired, investigators from the capital would arrive in Ginev. Arhim might be able to escape via the treacherous mountain path before they arrived, but Otto knew he lacked the courage and spirit to do so.

Arhim had been directly involved with the slave trade, but the root cause of his brashness was his feud with his father. The future of the Labrille family looked very bleak indeed. Then there were the villagers who had ignored the plight of the poor young women who were being victimized. There was no way things would ever be the same.

“By the way, Marone, you do have the option of returning to Ginev and assisting with the investigation if you’d—”

“Ha-ha-ha, no chance in hell.”

“I figured you’d say that.”

Even if Arhim were arrested, she would surely be treated differently if she returned to her hometown. Marone sat up straight, primly refusing to go back.

“It’s fine. I’ve got no family to miss me if I’m gone anyway. This is actually a great opportunity for me… It’s my chance at a new life.”

“That’s an awfully optimistic way of putting it, seeing as how you were almost sold into slavery by some guy you didn’t care about.”

“I know, right? It’s okay, you have Slave Number One’s permission to offer her your respect.”

“Sure, sure. Well, Slave Number One, as my senior slave, there’s something I’d like to give you.”

Marone gasped in surprise as Otto handed her the leather pouch he had behind his back. She quickly took it, peered into the heavy bag, and gasped again. “Is this…?”

“See, the bandits we got captured by actually had quite the stash. I was able to identify them from all the tools they left in the dragon carriage. And even though it was technically by coincidence, we did play a role in taking them down… We earned ourselves a reward.”

Marone stared at Otto in silence.

“Ah, but considering our achievements, we’re not splitting it fifty-fifty! I’m going to take a slightly larger cut. I have to repair my carriage; I’ll at least need enough to cover that.”

As Otto quickly rattled off the disclaimer about why they weren’t dividing the reward equally, Marone noted that while he had indeed given her the smaller share, it was still more than enough money for a single woman to start a new life.

“That really was the most horrible experience of my life…but thankfully, we both gained something from it. So that’s how it is, Marone. I’ll avoid going into the red, and you have everything you need to start over. And it need not be said, we’re also still alive!”

“……That’s right. We’re alive. Thank you. Helping me survive would have already been more than I deserved.”

“Yes, in fact, this whole transaction actually put me in the black so—what?”

Otto’s flippant voice caught in his throat. The reason behind his surprise came from the arms wrapped around his neck. Marone’s face was red as it could be as she hugged Otto tightly against her big bosom.

“Take care… I’m praying for your success in life.”

“Thanks, Number Two… No, wait.” Marone leaned back and tearfully shook her head. Then she asked him, “What’s your real name?”

Otto smiled and answered, “—I’ll always be your Number Two.”

8

The hastily repaired dragon carriage creaked as it rolled along the path.

“You know, Young Master, you worry far too much about looking like a hero.”

“Please don’t tell me that. I already know, and I’m already regretting it…”

Otto sighed and hung his head in the driver’s seat. And returning an expected sigh was his land dragon Fulfew, who was clearly annoyed by the young man’s lack of expression.

With a piteous look at Otto, who always seemed to find himself stumbling into one disaster after another, the land dragon said, “Why did you tell her there was a reward? They all fell in the valley and left nothing behind that could possibly identify them. You didn’t earn a single coin from the ordeal.”

“Urgh…”

“What’s more, you lost your profits and cargo from this trade, yet you gave half of your secret funds to some girl you’ll never see again… Young Master, are you stupid?”

“I’m not stupid. Or at least, I don’t think I am…… Am I stupid?”

“You’re terribly stupid.”

As Fulfew communicated with Otto via his blessing of language, he gazed up at the sky. Most of what he told Marone back at the hospital was a lie. Naturally, the part about the capital sending people to investigate Arhim and the bandits was true, but anything he said about his profits or their reward was completely fabricated.

His cargo and everything he earned in Ginev had fallen to the valley floor with the bandits, and there was no way to retrieve it. Thanks to his constant worries about money, Otto kept a secret stash of cash beneath the floorboards of the cart, but he had given a good chunk to Marone. All in all, he was close to being broke.

“I mean, how could I sleep at night if I abandoned an innocent woman…?”

“Young Master, it was that sort of thinking that got you caught up in this mess in the first place.”

Fulfew was not wrong. He had been worried about losing some sleep over all this and ultimately wound up losing almost everything. This wasn’t the first time Otto’s conscience had made him suffer loss after loss.

By exposing the wrongdoings of the Labrille family, his business interests in Ginev were almost certainly ruined. Truly, this trip had resulted only in wasted time and lost profits.

“The only profit I made from the whole ordeal was Marone thanking me, I suppose.”

“Ha-ha-ha! Oh, Young Master, you sound like a knight, taking solace in that.”

“Surely you jest!” Otto scowled, denying Fulfew’s teasing claim with a look of disbelief. “I’m a merchant from the crown of my head to the tips of my toes!”

Otto could not fathom why anyone would choose a knight’s life. And he would never become one himself.

“Befriending a knight would bring me nothing but hassle—I don’t even want to cross paths with one.”

“Oh, what a thing to say. I guess that means in the not too distant future, you’ll probably meet a knight or someone like one and have a really bad time.”

“Could you please not prophesize my doom like that?!”

Otto’s voice cracked at his companion’s less than encouraging prediction. It was no joke. Otto just wanted to be a successful merchant. He was trying to avoid as much hassle as possible while pursuing his goals.

“It would sure be great if there were some reliable, safe, profitable deal lying around somewhere for me…”

Otto knew his dream was just that, a dream, but he said it all the same.

Fulfew’s head shook with a sigh. “As long as you’re you, Young Master, nothing will ever come that easy. But I like you just the way you are.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“After all, if you settle down and have a store, you won’t need to travel, and I’ll be out of a job. So I hope your dream comes true as slowly as possible.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

Otto’s protest echoed across the vast sky. Fulfew shook with a deep, throaty laugh and said, “Let’s take our time while we make your dreams come true together, Young Master.”