Seven of us, including myself in a robe, were about to pass through the gates of Central.
I—Lyle Walt—stood in the middle of that group, surveying our surroundings.
All around us, travelers heading to the Royal Capital stood alongside merchants and adventurers, with even a troupe of performers mixed in among them.
The cold had grown more bitter still, and when I looked up, the overcast sky threatened snow at any moment.
Gazing up at that sky, I thought about how we were planning to split off from the group and enter the Royal Capital ahead of the rest.
"...Enter the Royal Capital first, spread rumors about the expedition force. I'm scared by how clever I am."
Nearby, Aria, with her red hair, clouded over her violet eyes and pressed both hands against her ears.
Lately she had been toughening up, but seeing her like this, she looked adorable.
"What's wrong, Aria? If your ears are cold, I'll lend you my hands."
"...You're a stranger... Right now, Lyle is a stranger... In a little while, we'll be fellow comrades, so..."
She mumbled her reply in a small voice, and I found Aria's embarrassment endearing.
Then, nearby, Miranda—with her light green hair—was also staring at the ground, her eyes stripped of their usual sparkle.
"What's this? Miranda's feeling down too."
When I said that, Miranda spoke in a strained, squeezed-out voice.
"L-Lyle... Drop the '-san.' And don't talk so much. I don't want to remember right now. Please."
Hearing that, I—
"Got it, Miranda. My, it feels like the distance between our hearts has grown much closer already. Also... if you want to be a bird that flies freely through the sky, then I'll be your—no! I'll be your birdcage!"
Aria and Miranda, who had talked about wanting to become birds a little while ago.
Miranda, it seemed, wanted me to be her birdcage.
At those words, Miranda's face turned crimson, though her expression was conflicted.
Aria had sunk to the ground right where she stood.
"I'm happy. I really am, but... please, right now... just for now..."
"What's the matter? Your face is completely red. Ha ha~hn, don't tell me you've fallen for me!"
*Pfffooooh!!*
The blue Jewel hanging from his neck was adorned with intricate silverwork crafted from rare metal.
The voice emanating from it belonged to the Sixth Generation—Feinz Walt.
At first glance, the Sixth Generation seemed wild and untamed, but in truth, he could never get the upper hand on the Fifth Generation.
The Sixth Generation's era had been a dark period even for Banseim, with bribery running rampant and the royal court thoroughly rotten.
Because of that, the Sixth Generation had been forced to involve himself in all manner of shady dealings.
As a result, a sinister reputation clung to him, and he was forever branded as the greatest villain in the history of House Walt.
In truth, he was the one who inherited the foundation the Fifth Generation had laid, challenged the surrounding lords to battle, and won—greatly expanding House Walt.
The times certainly had a lot to do with it, but there were circumstances where he simply couldn't have survived without getting his hands dirty.
The Sixth Generation burst out laughing, clutching his belly, and the other ancestors laughed along with him.
The Third Generation, too.
*"Three catches already! 'Sharp and terrifying'—'I'll be your birdcage'—and 'have you fallen for me,' huh! Not bad at all!"*
The Fourth Generation was laughing as well.
*"Best Lyle! So many candidates this time too—that's what I like to see!"*
The Fifth Generation, however...
*"......Lyle, you haven't learned a single thing since last time."*
They can say what they want, but it's the truth, so there's nothing I can do about it.
I pushed my hair back and glanced at Monica, who was pulling a cart.
There, inside a coffin of ice, was the body of a Griffon.
She was making sure to show it off deliberately, and the people around us were looking on with great interest.
Monica, dressed in a maid outfit with a robe thrown over it, was pulling what looked like a heavy load with complete ease. She grinned when she saw me.
"What's with that smug look on your face?"
When I said that, Monica replied:
"You expect me not to laugh? The Chicken I saw the day I woke up has come back! Back then, you said something about flying through the sky, but even I didn't expect you to literally take flight. I thought you meant you'd become something bigger."
When I defeated the Griffon, I had ridden on its back and soared through the open sky.
I thought it was quite thrilling and a lot of fun.
"Don't praise me. I'll have you know I've been promoted to Flying Chicken."
"Too long—rejected. Chicken."
Seeing Monica looking pleased and flustered, I drew the attention of the surrounding crowd.
Thinking *good grief*, I waited for the guard to grant us passage.
Clara looked even more apologetic than usual, clutching a large staff, her dark navy, disheveled hair hanging over her face.
From between those strands of hair, her red eyes were watching me.
"What's wrong?"
"I...I wanted to say I'm terribly sorry for the other day, but at the same time, I feel like I don't want to get involved right now."
Seeing Clara looking so conflicted, I figured some days are just like that, and I offered her a smile.
Clara pulled her hood down low, trying to escape my gaze.
Shannon, Miranda's sister with pale purple hair, was nearby, and she looked at me with pity in her eyes.
"You really are the worst, aren't you?"
"What, are you at the age where you pull pranks on the girl you like? Sorry, but if you want me to notice you, come back when you're older."
"...We're only two years apart, you know? Are you stupid or something?"
"Should I shut that mouth of yours?"
When I leaned in close, Shannon frantically clamped her hand over her mouth.
I lightly flicked her forehead with my finger, then looked at her with a grin.
"Just kidding. You're on hold until you become a proper lady. Make sure you grow into a splendid one."
A voice came from the Jewel — the Seventh Generation.
"Something explosive is missing this time. The candidates keep piling up, one after another!"
He sounded genuinely frustrated, but I wasn't about to keep mass-producing unwanted memories for all eternity.
Shannon spoke up.
"...Novem, this guy's crazy."
"And with your cheeks all red, no less... Ah, I see! You're hiding your embarrassment. How cute, Shannon."
Novem — long brown hair in a side ponytail, violet eyes — looked at me and spoke.
"Lyle Walt, let's book an inn right away. It'll really be dangerous if we stay out any longer."
Seeing how worried Novem looked, I felt a warm little burst of happiness — wondering if I was the only one she fretted over like this.
"Sure. If you say so, we'll go to whatever inn you like. A twin room works, too."
"No, I'll book separate rooms. That would be more appropriate."
Watching Novem get all flustered and thinking to myself how adorable she looked, our turn finally arrived.
Those were Novem's words.
"Come on, it's getting dangerous to stay here any longer. Let's get to the inn quickly."
I passed through the gates of Central in stride, watching as Novem hurriedly issued orders.
Having arrived at the inn sometime past midday, I was about to head out to put my plan into action.
But Novem and the others stopped me.
In the end, the only ones who stayed behind at the inn were me, Monica, and Shannon.
The inn had private rooms, each equipped with its own shower and toilet.
It was a standard Central inn with a dining hall on the first floor—and when I thought back to how things were in the beginning, I could finally afford to stay at this caliber of inn without worrying about the cost.
"Brings back memories. A lot has happened since then."
I'd been thrown out of House Walt, my family home, and become an adventurer alongside Novem, my former fiancée.
Back then I didn't know a thing about anything, wanting to rely on the Jewel that let me use Skills when I could hear the voices of my ancestors.
In the town of Darion, I met Aria, and from there I moved to Aramsass, the academic city, where I encountered Miranda, then Shannon, then Monica, and Clara.
Recruiting people hadn't exactly gone smoothly, but even so, I could feel a genuine bond with my current companions.
"...And yet here I am, a terrible flirt when I've got Novem."
I said that to my reflection in the mirror in the room, and then the Fourth Generation spoke up.
"Absolutely. Why don't you think about the situation you're in? You're going to get stabbed in the back. Well, I guess it's fine since you have Novem, though."
"Are you jealous? I have to say, it's oddly flattering."
When I said that, the Third Generation burst out laughing.
"No good! Oh, Lyle, you're the best!"
Hearing that, I couldn't help but blush at the praise.
"I appreciate the kind words, but I really can't offer anything in return."
Just then, a knock echoed through the room.
Shannon appeared carrying a tray, Monica by her side.
"Lyle, it's lunchtime. I bought sandwiches from the cafeteria so you wouldn't have to go outside and cause any trouble."
The small round table in the room was laid out with two servings of food.
Monica, built with ancient technology, didn't need to eat to survive.
However, it seemed there was a line between her and me, and she lived off my magical power as sustenance.
Almost like a thread of fate.
Shannon sat down in a chair and began eating her sandwich.
"This is so dry — it's not tasty at all."
To Shannon's remark, Monica offered me the condiments.
"Chicken, here are mayonnaise, ketchup, and mustard."
Shannon looked at the offering.
"...Why is it for Lyle? It should obviously be for me!"
Shannon protested in irritation, but Monica responded with a smile.
"I said, come back the day before yesterday, you little brat! That's what I said. My number one is Chicken, and even in his current deplorable state, that hasn't changed. Do you understand? There's love here. Love!"
"You're an Automaton... Fine, whatever. Lyle, I'm borrowing this."
With that, Shannon proceeded to douse the filling between her bread with a generous amount of mayonnaise.
The condiments Monica made were almost always delicious.
They were ancient condiments, the kind you couldn't buy anywhere else.
She seemed to know the recipes by heart, which made sense — she'd been meal-prepping all along.
"You little brat! That belongs to Chicken!"
Shannon ignored him entirely, stuffed the sandwich into her mouth, and kept right on eating.
This was Shannon — the same woman who'd been playing the part of a blind young lady not so long ago.
She'd been turned over to a new leaf by Miranda, and now she was one of our companions.
According to the ancestors within the Jewel, she apparently had some kind of mystic eye.
(If only I had a mystic eye too...)
I was a little jealous.
I brought the sandwich to my mouth, and sure enough, it tasted stale.
"Honestly, it's not great. Novem or Monica's cooking would be way better than this."
When I said that, Monica looked delighted as she swept back her golden twin tails.
"Obviously! I hate being compared to that old fox, but my cooking is made with love, you know. My dishes are tailored to Chicken's taste — and for some random nobody to just—"
Before Monica could finish, I spoke up.
"Thanks as always, Monica... I love your cooking. Tonight, I want to have one of your carefully made meals again for the first time in a while."
Monica froze for a moment, then looked at me and started stammering.
"Th-th-that means! You want to eat my cooking? You want to eat my love-packed meals, is that it?! I'll pack it in. I'll stuff them so full of love you won't know what hit you!!"
I gave her a grin.
"Yeah... load me up with a double portion of your love."
At that, Monica turned and marched straight out of the room.
"I'm starting prep right now! I need to factor in the prep time, and for ingredients... at this rate, I'm blowing every last bit of my savings on the finest stuff there is!!"
The sound of Monica shouting as she dashed off could already be heard from outside the inn.
Shannon munched away at her sandwich and was seasoning the second one with ketchup.
I speak up.
"Heh, what a cute kid."
And from the Jewel, it was the Seventh Generation who spoke.
'…There it is. "Load me up with a double portion of your love" — there's no other possibility, is there?'
To those words, the Sixth Generation responded.
'Not yet! There's still time. This is where the prodigy of House Walt really shows off!'
The Fourth Generation says,
'Jealousy that actually feels pleasant — I think that's perfectly fine!'
The Third Generation speaks,
'Hold on! This space… right now it's just Lyle and Shannon! Something's coming, something's definitely coming!'
I feel bad for my fired-up ancestors, but this makes the third time for me now. I won't repeat the same mistake again.
(Sorry, but I don't think I can meet those expectations.)
Shannon is staring at my sandwich.
I'm using mustard on mine, so it seems to have caught her interest.
"Want some?"
"N-No, I don't!"
She says that, but keeps glancing over, so I bring the sandwich up to Shannon's mouth.
She parted her small lips and took a bite out of my sandwich.
Mustard is stuck to the corner of her mouth.
"Oh, this is tasty too."
"In the end, you ate it anyway. Well, that's fine."
I wiped Shannon's mouth, then shoved the remaining sandwich into my own.
"Ah, I'm full. I can't eat anymore."
To Shannon, who said that, I—
"I'm still not satisfied. I'd like to have something to look forward to tonight... hmm."
"What?"
Looking at Shannon resting her chin on the table, I say.
"No, I was just wondering when a lady would be edible. It seems it will be a while yet."
Shaking my head wearily as I said that, Shannon stood up and put distance between us.
From the Jewel, the Fifth Generation spoke.
'...When will she be edible, is that still not good?'
The Seventh Generation said.
'You can't omit love with extra-large servings!'
The Fifth Generation also subtly joined in.
(Really, what are they doing?)
Exasperated with my ancestors, I dealt with Shannon's attempt to flee.
——The highway.
The group progressing along it had an ornate carriage in the center, with knights and soldiers marching in formation around it.
Even from their equipment and the quality of the soldiers, they were clearly well-trained, and the groups traveling along the highway moved carefully to keep their distance from the formation.
Those traveling behind the group — travelers, adventurers, and merchants — kept a steady distance, knowing that following the ornate carriage meant a safe journey.
Seeing this, Meizel Walt looked thoroughly displeased.
"Hmph! It's because the highway isn't safe that more and more groups keep tagging along behind us. Let's pick up the pace and shake them off."
His wife, Claire, shared his sour mood.
"Ceres is in such a rush to reach Central! How is this even possible — you'd never see this kind of thing on Walt domain lands!"
The one who soothed their irritated parents was a beautiful girl.
She carried an alluring air about her, and despite her young age, every gesture she made was enchanting.
Her golden hair was lovely — long and wavy, gleaming as it caught the light.
Over her white dress she wore a white fur coat, and her smile was utterly innocent.
"Father. Mother."
"What is it, Ceres?"
Receiving their smiles with satisfaction, Ceres spoke.
"I'm awfully bored."
At that, her mother Claire began to panic.
"Oh dear, what shall we do? We don't have any new toys... What would you like to do, Ceres?"
At her words, Ceres turned to look at the groups trailing behind the carriage.
"I want to see the knights and soldiers who protect people from Monsters."
Hearing this, Meizel smiled and replied.
"Is that so? You truly are a daughter of House Walt. But if there are no Monsters..."
Meizel made a troubled face, and Ceres spoke.
"...Is it not possible? Are the knights and soldiers of House Walt not reliable?"
Hearing her pleading voice, Claire glared at Meizel.
"You! How could you make poor Ceres feel this way! Cannot the knights of House Walt manage even this much for her!"
"I-I'm sorry. It's an important request from Ceres. I'll have them prepare right away."
Saying that, Meizel called out to a knight on horseback near the carriage.
When he opened the carriage window, the knight approached.
"What is it, Sir Meizel?"
"...It looks like Monsters might attack that group behind us. Ceres wants to see what you can do. Understood?"
Hearing this, the knight—.
"...I'll have them ready immediately! Alfred!"
A young man with long, flowing black hair on horseback quickly approached.
"Right here!"
At his waist hung a saber, and he moved with the grace of a refined young knight.
**Alfred Baden.**
He was a swordsman senior to Lyle and a young man from a family that had served House Walt since its founding.
The knight relayed the order.
"Monsters might attack the group behind us. You are to secure the perimeter. ...Sir Ceres wants to see us in action. Find a big one and bring it down!"
"Leave it to me!"
With that, Alfred spurred his horse and quickly rode off from the group.
"Find some Monsters and have them attack the group behind us."
That was Maisel's order.
Ceres watched Alfred ride off into the distance, a satisfied smile on her face.
Seeing that, Maisel felt a sense of relief.
"Good grief, that Ceres is really something."
At those words, Claire responded with a warm smile.
"It's all for the sake of her beloved child, isn't it? Every girl dreams of admiring knights from their stories. But if she does well, we'll have to give her a reward—right, Ceres?"
Claire was told by Ceres to award the knight a reward.
Ceres reached into the cargo stored in the carriage and pulled out a short sword.
It didn't look particularly expensive, but it was a dagger forged from rare metal with a Skill imbued in it.
It was just the right size for a reward.
"I'll go with this!"
Maisel said.
"A short sword would make her happy. As expected, Ceres understands the heart of a knight. But where did you get that? I was planning to prepare something more valuable..."
Claire tilted her head as well.
"You're right. It's not really fitting for Ceres to have."
Ceres—
"……Well? But if I have it, then it's mine."
She smiled innocently.
The short sword Ceres held had once belonged to an adventurer named Rondo, whom Lyle had met in the city of Darion—