Despite the arrival of an Imperial Knight Commander, I couldn’t muster so much as a twitch in response.
My mind was already a labyrinth, hopelessly tangled with the possible connections between Artezia and the Demonkin.
There simply wasn’t enough of me left over to revise my plans.
But then, the baron came running up to me and promptly burst into tears, exclaiming, “Thank you! Truly, thank you!”
His sobs were laced with relief. He looked as if a great weight had been lifted from his heart, all because his people had been spared.
…If only every lord were like this.
I sighed, thinking of the other noble fellows.
Then I reached out and took the baron’s hand. “Please get up. If a lord bows and scrapes before someone barely old enough to shave, his people are bound to be unsettled.”
“…”
“The soldiers are watching, you know. They’re your subjects too. Don’t let a moment of emotion tarnish your reputation.”
It’s said that nobles have blue blood… which is naturally utter nonsense.
Nobles are human, and humans bleed red.
This saying, you see, has nothing to do with anatomy and everything to do with how nobles are supposed to behave.
Showing emotion is considered a breach of etiquette. Even if someone saves your life—or, more importantly, the lives of your people—you must never express your gratitude too freely.
A noble is supposed to be like the sky: always above, always apart, never to be mistaken for the common herd.
A creature of perpetual composure.
That, at least, is the ideal.
Of course, there are those who live like scoundrels—myself included—but surely we can agree to set them aside for now.
In any case…
By that standard, the baron’s current display was not exactly a shining example of noble conduct.
Surely his people must be disappointed…?
“…Hm?” I blinked, noticing the soldiers looking this way with eyes shining with what could only be described as admiration.
Why was that? Why were they looking at their baron—their lord—with such gratitude?
It was Rom, who had sidled up beside me without a sound, who answered the question. “Father isn’t just a lord—he’s the father of his people. What child would point a finger at a father who tried to protect them?”
“…Is that so?”
Looking back, my previous life was well and truly broken.
I spent my days as a scoundrel, got tangled up with Hera in all the wrong ways, and in the end, died living the life of a mercenary.
Maybe that’s why the people of my domain never seemed all that important to me. Only the safety of my family and revenge against Duke Artezia’s House ever truly mattered.
But what about Father?
If I recall, my father was always desperate to protect his people. He seemed to believe they were worth safeguarding, even if it meant burning up his own life to do it.
…A father to his people.
Was it not just a duty expected of a lord, but something he did out of genuine feeling for his subjects?
It was still a difficult idea for me to accept.
However…
Perhaps it’s worth thinking about.
I nodded and patted the baron on the back.
Just then, a man addressed me. “May I ask which House you serve as a knight?”
The man in question was the commander of the Imperial Knights who had just arrived.
To be precise, he was the Second Imperial Knight Commander.
“I didn’t expect to see a knight of your skill here. Honestly, I’d believe it if you told me you were with the Imperial Knights.” The commander gave a booming laugh as he spoke.
I bowed my head respectfully to him and replied, “Sir Chorian, isn’t it? I’ve only ever seen you from afar, so meeting you like this is quite something.”
“…You know who I am?”
“How could I not? You’re the backbone of the Imperial Knights, Sir Chorian. Who wouldn’t know your name?”
The commander tilted his head in puzzlement. “Hmmm…? You say you’ve seen me before?”
“Forgive me for not introducing myself sooner. I am Louis Berg, third son of Berg County, currently attached to the Ducal House of Praha.”
For a moment, the commander’s expression twisted into something rather odd. “So you’re that Louis Berg?”
That Louis Berg…
I gave a bitter little smile and nodded. “Yes, I am indeed that Louis Berg.”
“Well now…” The commander let out a noise of admiration and gave me a once-over, as if trying to determine the truth.
But it didn’t take him long to decide I was being genuine. He gave a dry chuckle and started patting me on the shoulder.
“To think the youngest of Berg would turn out like this. Your father must be pleased.”
“Oh, I imagine he’s always worried about me.”
“That’s just the way of parents with children, isn’t it?”
The commander chuckled, giving my shoulder another friendly thump as he continued. “Well, isn’t this something. To run into a scion of House Berg in a place like this… His Majesty will also be pleased. But what’s this about being attached to House Praha?”
His eyes suddenly sharpened, like a hound catching the scent of politics.
The 2nd Imperial Knights were, after all, part of the Noble Faction, sworn to the Second Prince. He was probably wondering if I’d thrown in my lot with the Royalists instead.
Most people, faced with that look, would have confessed to anything just to get it over with. But I knew something the others didn’t.
The commander of the 2nd Imperial Knights—he was actually a Royalist spy.
Which is why I answered without so much as a flicker of hesitation, and told him the truth. “I am engaged to a daughter of Praha.”
“…But isn’t House Praha with the Royalist Faction?”
“Aren’t we all just walking beneath the same sun? The rest is just chatter about which of the little stars is rising.”
Maybe my answer was a bit much, even for him.
The commander let out a short, incredulous laugh and looked me over again. Then he remarked, “You sound just like one of those sly old aristocrats.”
“Thankfully, the Goddess saw fit to bless me with a talent for words.”
“Ugh… noble talk gives me a headache.” He pressed his fingers to his forehead in a pained manner.
A moment later, he sighed quietly and asked, “Then tell me just one thing. Are you with the Royalists, or the Nobles?”
“I am merely a subject of His Imperial Majesty. Ants don’t concern themselves with who shines brightest—they just follow where the light falls.”
“…Simply follow, huh.” The commander paused, lost in thought for a moment, then let out a brief, incredulous snort and nodded. “Well, I hope you never lose that conviction.”
“How could I possibly forget?”
“Heh… You’ve become quite the respectable noble. Those who used to call you a scoundrel must feel rather foolish now.” The commander said this with a satisfied grin.
Well, fair enough.
Right now, I probably looked more like a noble than any of the actual aristocrats haunting the central political scene. His reaction was only natural.
Imagine that… something to thank those rotten Artezias for.
After spending decades in that nest of intrigue, this level of political finesse came almost too easily.
I was frowning, lost in thoughts of my life before I turned the hourglass over, when…
“By the way, after pulling off something like this, you can expect a reward from the Imperial Family. You’d best pay a visit to the Imperial Capital soon.” The commander glanced around as he spoke.
I couldn’t help but let the corners of my mouth twitch upward. I’d been waiting for him to bring this up. At last, he had.
I kept my face carefully composed and replied as if it were nothing out of the ordinary. “Then let us go together.”
“Hmm? Go together? Don’t you have other plans?”
“Plans can always be changed, can’t they? There’s nothing more important than an audience with His Imperial Majesty.”
“…Hah.” The commander let out a sigh of admiration.
In his mind, I was probably the very picture of loyal devotion to the Emperor.
“All right, let’s go together. I’m headed to the Imperial Court myself, so it wouldn’t hurt to travel together and file my report.”
“Thank you for your generous offer.” I bowed my head in gratitude.
The commander let out a booming laugh, waving his hand as if to brush my thanks away.
“No need for thanks. Compared to what you’ve accomplished, it’s not even worth a firefly’s glow. Still, to pull this off with a spear—why, it’s like seeing Berg in his prime all over again.”
A spear?
I cast a confused look at him, then explained, “Not a spear—a bow.”
“Mmm? What was that?”
“I said, I used a bow, not a spear.” I replied, lifting the Divine Archer’s bow for all to see.
The bow caught the sunlight and sparkled, as if it too wished to set the record straight.
“…Huh?”
The commander blinked dazedly, like he’d just hit a wall.
* * *
After penning Rom’s letter of recommendation to House Berg, we set off toward the Imperial Palace.
The commander was still muttering to himself, unable to make sense of it.
“…An archer, from House Berg?”
From the look on his face, he was thoroughly, existentially flummoxed.
And really, who could blame him?
As I’d mentioned before, it was hard enough for an archer to reach the level of an Aura Expert. Becoming a Master Archer was like trying to pluck stars out of the sky.
And a Grand Master? Only one had ever existed in the entire universe.
So to find an archer of such extraordinary skill coming from none other than House Berg—well, the commander could hardly help his confusion.
“…Did Count Berg, by any chance, possess a deep knowledge of archery?”
Yes, just like that.
I let out a dry chuckle and replied. “No, nothing like that. I simply had the good fortune to learn from the Divine Archer.”
“Ah yes, the Divine Archer… Wait, what?”
The commander grabbed his horse’s reins so abruptly that the poor beast whinnied in shock.
He whipped his head around to stare at me, eyes wide as he stuttered, “W-what did you just say?”
“I said I received instruction from the Divine Archer.” I answered as casually as if I were discussing the weather.
The commander, now thoroughly rattled, pressed on. “But how?! Don’t tell me the Divine Archer is living with House Berg?”
He was practically spraying syllables in his excitement.
I shook my head and explained, “No, not at all. I only learned from reading the Divine Archer’s book.”
“…So you didn’t actually receive personal instruction?”
“Of course not. I don’t even know where the Divine Archer is.”
Of course, I knew perfectly well.
I knew exactly where my mentor was, and what he was up to.
But there was no need to share all of that with this man, now was there?
Information shines brightest when you keep it all to yourself.
I shrugged, and the commander sighed, nodding in understanding.
“Well… I suppose you’re right. Still, try not to say things that could be misunderstood next time. If you’d claimed to have been personally taught by the Divine Archer in front of His Majesty, you’d have been charged with insulting the Imperial Family.”
Would I really have said something like that in front of the Emperor?
I nodded, watching the commander grumble for no reason at all, like a man determined to be contrary for the sake of it.
“Yes, I understand.”
“Ugh… Let’s get moving then.” With another sigh, the commander loosened his grip on the reins.
And so, just as we picked up speed toward the Imperial Capital, a splendid city appeared before us, as if it had been waiting for its grand entrance.
The most dazzling city on the continent spread out before us—the Imperial Capital of the Empire.
* * *
Meanwhile, the Veilmaster fell silent as he listened to the news brought by the assassin Rique.
A Slayer’s Birthright had emerged, and its inheritor might even be his own flesh and blood.
“You are certain?”
“…Not entirely, but the boy possessed a talent that only someone with the Slayer’s Birthright could have.”
“…Then we should assume it’s true.”
Of course, he’d have to confirm it himself, but for now, it was reasonable to accept.
After all, it wasn’t as if one of the Death Veil’s top agents would make such a mistake.
Which meant—
“In effect, the contract is forfeit,” The Veilmaster muttered, gazing at the badge marked with Death Veil’s insignia.
No matter how absolute a contract might be, one simply couldn’t kill their own child.
Especially when there was a rule that those who bore the badge must not be killed.
He certainly had grounds to refuse. The only problem was that he’d have to return the badge…
“Tsk, I suppose there’s no helping it,” the Veilmaster muttered under his breath.
Just then, a servant raised a hand and pulled a slip of paper from their robes.
“Sir.” The servant handed the note to the assassin, who then passed it to the Veilmaster.
The Veilmaster looked at the note, his face a picture of puzzlement.
“What’s this, then?” he asked.
“It’s a note from the woman who came with the client. Looks like a commission letter. Couldn’t we treat this as an official request under the badge?”
“Hmm… I suppose we could.” The Veilmaster nodded, finding the suggestion reasonable.
After all, she had been brought along by the one carrying the badge.
If the first commission was impossible, then accepting a second one seemed perfectly plausible.
Besides, the badge itself had been left here.
It was a bit like playing peekaboo with the rules, but perfectly within the loopholes.
“Change the target. Even if Verick Dragunov is off the list, make absolutely certain Duke Artezia dies.”
“Yes, Veilmaster,” the assassins replied.
And so, the continent’s most lethal assassins set their sights on Artezia.