I had, perhaps, succeeded in deceiving Father.
The evidence was Father's utterly crumpled expression. By now, I had become the principal culprit behind the collapse of Laura de Farnese—and the one who furnished the decisive catalyst for killing Demon Lord Paimon. I had planted a perfect illusion in Father's mind…
Father spoke, voice brimming with rage.
"What exactly are you planning to do?"
"Waiting in anticipation of that is itself a spice that adorns Father's romantic life, is it not?"
I lifted the hem of my skirt and gave Father a courteous curtsy.
There was no more room to hesitate. I looked upon Father one last time. It would be a long while before I could see Father again. I engraved Father's image as vividly as I could into my mind.
Until the day we meet again—farewell, Father.
I seized Barbatos as a hostage and made a great leap.
"Brother."
I landed lightly in the center of the plaza. Luke was already raising a tremendous commotion there. The sudden bloodbath sent the spectators screaming into utter chaos. I tossed Barbatos over to my brother.
"We need to get out of here within one minute."
"Got it."
Barbatos had lost consciousness from the pain and blood loss.
My brother securely strapped her—limbs severed—onto his back. It was a rather barbaric method of plundering a princess, but then again, perhaps this was simply what kidnapping looked like.
"Seize them! Catch those traitors!"
"Not a single one gets out alive!"
Demon soldiers rushed in from every direction.
The encirclement had been complete for some time. The only reason the soldiers had yet to form proper formations was the fleeing spectators trampling over one another. That was precisely where the gap lay—and precisely what I was targeting. My brother and I each drew our dual swords and stared silently ahead.
The surroundings grew quiet.
The noise in my mind subsided. The screams of the spectators, the orders barked by Father or Marbas from somewhere off, the soldiers howling like a pack of wolves—all of it crumbled away like shadows. Only the trajectories of blades and spear tips charging toward us with hostile intent remained, reflected slowly before my eyes.
Allies: two.
Enemies: roughly two thousand.
The ratio of forces was exactly one to one thousand.
In other words—we were overwhelmingly superior.
I spoke.
"I'll take the right side and the upper front."
"Got it. I'll handle the left and the rear."
Our siblings' strategy meeting was concluded with that.
There was no need to psyche ourselves up. We simply stepped forward in silence.
A single streak of gale tore across the plaza.
I closed a distance of dozens of meters in the blink of an eye. As I appeared right before an orc soldier's face, his expression slowly filled with horror. I watched indifferently as the wrinkles on his face creased and folded, then brought my greatsword down in a light chop. The orc soldier died with his expression frozen in that crumpled state.
A little faster.
I swung the greatsword in a wide arc, tracing a semicircle. Blood sprayed into the air in a crimson mist. My brother and I had not consulted each other, yet we executed identical movements, butchering the soldiers on both flanks. In the next instant, thirteen soldiers collapsed, their chests sheared clean through.
I stepped forward once more.
"H-he's coming this way!"
"Form a phalanx—!"
The soldiers scrambled frantically at the sight of us charging in. An elf who appeared to be their commander opened his mouth wide to shout something, but could not continue issuing orders beyond that. By then, my brother and I had already crashed into them. Slaughtering a squad of roughly ten soldiers consumed only a single breath.
I took the right, my brother took the left. With a single strike from each of us, the greatswords cleaved through the soldiers' bodies regardless of whether they raised shields or leveled spears. Once again, blood sprayed upward in a torrent.
The elven commander clutched his stomach. He stared blankly, his eyes wide with disbelief that his entire unit had been wiped out in a mere two seconds. He muttered in a small voice.
"You monster…"
The elven commander's stomach burst open, spilling his innards in a gush.
Perhaps because of the close distance, a few drops of blood splattered onto my clothes. The maid outfit Father had gifted me was now stained. He had personally designed the pattern and commissioned a craftsman to make it. Objectively speaking, its value was probably on par with a nation's national treasure. I was a little irked that such a treasure had been soiled.
"……."
I glanced ahead.
The demon soldiers who met my gaze from a distance visibly flinched. The momentum had clearly shifted to our side. If they had formed proper ranks and engaged us head-on, it might have been a different story, but with countless citizens scrambling in every direction, the plaza was absolute chaos. It was a terrible situation for unit-based troops to maneuver in.
Of course it was. They would have prepared for intrusions from the outside in, but there was no way they had ever imagined a scenario where someone would escape from the inside out. My brother and I gave them no breathing room as we cut through relentlessly.
It took less than a minute to clear the plaza, just as I had promised beforehand. We weaved skillfully through the alleys of Niflheim and finally escaped beyond the city limits.
— SCREECH!
The moment we left the city's labyrinth, wyverns dove from the sky as if they had been waiting. They had to be the elite wyvern squad under Demon Lord Gamigin's direct command. Unable to operate inside the roof-covered city, they were only now taking to the attack.
But it was too late.
I pulled a teleportation magic book from inside my clothes.
A magic circle materialized on the ground, and a brilliant white light erupted forth. In an instant, my brother and I were enveloped in the glow. Just before dozens of wyverns descended upon us with razor-sharp talons, we escaped from Niflheim.
The scenery changed in a single instant.
From the bleak, barren earth of the Demon Realm to the endless green foliage of the Human Realm. As if the desperate chase just moments ago had been a lie, the landscape before us was the picture of tranquility. We had simply arrived at a slightly unfortunate time.
"Uh, uh… uh-uh-uh."
A farmer stared at us, dumbfounded.
Had he come here to gather wood for fieldwork, perhaps? I had deliberately chosen a remote forest clearing as our teleportation destination, but unluckily, we had an eyewitness.
The farmer was clearly startled out of his wits, dropping the hand axe in his right hand to the ground without realizing it. He had surely never witnessed teleportation magic in his entire life. The honest, simple years etched into his face could not have been more apparent.
I let out a soft sigh.
"I'd like to ask your name. What should I call you?"
"M-me, Milady?"
"Yes. There's no one else here."
The farmer stuttered. He spoke Habsburg, but with a thick western accent. I, on the other hand, had learned Habsburg directly from Father in the imperial accent. To the farmer's ears, my Habsburg probably sounded like half a foreign language.
"My name is Proscho, Milady."
"Proscho. Do you have a wife and children?"
"Y-yes. We don't have much, but I have three sons."
The farmer shrank back and bowed deeply. He had recognized me as nobility. In truth, I was a rather precious princess—my father was the Duke of the Teuton Kingdom, and I was his sole heir.
I nodded.
"I see. I'm sorry, Proscho. I'm going to have to kill you."
"...Pardon?"
"We're being pursued by someone at this very moment. Even to eliminate the faintest possibility, we cannot leave any witnesses alive. That is why I must kill you."
Proscho opened his mouth to say something.
But by then, my greatsword had already cleaved through his chest. The simple farmer couldn't even let out a scream before his body split in two and crumpled lifelessly to the ground. Blood spilled across the green meadow.
Luke murmured beside me.
"...Was it really necessary to kill him?"
"We have to face Father from here on out. If we leave even the slightest risk, Father will definitely sniff it out and come after us."
I gazed at Luke. His expression was grim.
"Luke. Do you honestly think Father is so weak that we could beat him even with our guard down?"
"……No. Absolutely not."
"Father won't let his guard down — he'll come tearing after us to tear us apart. So we absolutely cannot afford to let our guard down either. Bury your guilt, your hesitation, everything — at the very bottom of your hearts. Such feelings are nothing but luxuries for us now."
That was right. We had made an enemy of none other than our own father.
Plenty of people had turned Father into an adversary before. They all shared one thing in common. Every last one of them had underestimated or dismissed Father, and their heads had rolled for it. I had not the slightest intention of repeating that precedent.
Luke nodded grimly. I could sense that he was fully convinced. That was enough.
We used dozens of teleportation scrolls, hopping from place to place. The idea was to confuse the mage corps' pursuit in case they came after us. Habsburg, Franque, Sardinia, Helvetica — we looped in every direction. The excessive drain of mana in such a short time left my stomach churning, but I could endure it just fine.
Just when I thought we were done, we came to a stop at our final destination.
"……."
It was already deep into the dark of night.
In the pale moonlight, a reasonably massive castle wall loomed into view. Occasionally something glimmered atop the walls — the torches gripped by patrolling guards, flickering as they burned.
Without exchanging a single word, the two of us trudged toward it.
"Consul, forgive the late hour."
Kurz Schleiermacher had come to the Consul's office. It was a time when everyone should have been asleep, but Consul Elizabeth, who required little rest, was still hard at work. Consul Elizabeth removed her monocle — her eyesight had been declining somewhat lately — and looked at Kurz.
"Breaking into a woman's room at this hour isn't exactly a wise move, General Schleiermacher."
"I wouldn't have come if I could help it."
"Oh my. Would I be justified in taking that as an insult to my person?"
Consul Elizabeth smiled. She was wearing a fluttering nightgown. She dressed this way so that if sleepiness hit her while she worked, she could simply collapse face-first onto her desk and pass out. She had even prepared a fluffy pillow on her lap.
Kurz Schleiermacher gave a bitter smile. If the citizens of the Republic knew that the dignified Consul hugged a pillow every night and slumped over her desk… No — perhaps they would actually find it endearing.
"I will gladly accept any reprimand for my department at any time. The issue is with the Guard. Two well-dressed attendants arrived at the outer gate, and in the blink of an eye they took the Guard Captain hostage — threatening to let them see the Consul."
"Is it time we replaced the Guard Captain?"
"I will submit the new list of candidates tomorrow."
Consul Elisabeth nodded. She looked down at the documents once more and began to move her quill.
"It's absurd that the Guard Captain was taken hostage. Ignore them and fire the arrows. For a man like that, becoming fertilizer for the earth would be the best contribution he could make for the citizens of the Republic."
"I was going to do just that, but—"
What Kurz said next made Consul Elisabeth's quill stop dead.
"Those attendants claimed to be the ones who served the Demon Lord, Dantalion. Their appearances and attire also match the files our intelligence division had on record. I believe it would be best if Your Excellency met with them in person."
============================ Author's Notes ============================
- Chapter <DAISY> END.