"Damn it all, damn it all……!"
A middle-aged man who was a knight spat out curses.
The Heidelberg Fortress Garrison Knight Squadron. They had been driven out of the city in disgrace. They had once numbered close to a thousand, but because their night raid had ended in catastrophic failure, the squadron's numbers had plummeted to two hundred. Of the two hundred who remained, the vast majority were apprentice knights — not only had every veteran knight perished, but the squadron commander himself had been killed in action.
"Damn Bruno's nightmare! May he rot in hell!"
The middle-aged man currently leading the remaining two hundred men was the deputy squadron commander.
He had been cursing Dantalion for several hours already. His face was flushed bright red from having drained bottles of liquor all through the previous night.
The apprentice knights trailing behind the deputy squadron commander muttered amongst themselves.
"Ugh. Why's he been cursing like that since last night?"
"Apparently, the one who predicted the enemy's night raid was a subordinate of that Demon Lord. Well, no wonder he's burning up inside."
The deputy squadron commander had once had a smooth path to promotion laid out before him.
He had been the number two in a knight squadron of nearly a thousand. But the Heidelberg Fortress Garrison Knight Squadron had suffered a defeat so devastating it was almost incomprehensible.
Even if he returned to the capital now, the only thing awaiting him was the disbandment of the squadron.
At the very least, the regular knights and apprentices were in a decent position — they could be reassigned elsewhere. That was far from enough for someone of the deputy squadron commander's rank. He would bear the blame for the crushing defeat and be permanently expelled from the military.
"If only that bastard hadn't been there……damn it!"
If he had been someone of truly exceptional talent, they might have kept him on in a reduced capacity. But the deputy squadron commander had risen to his high position through middling ability, middling connections, and middling political maneuvering. He had neither the skill, nor the wealth, nor the connections to shake off the stigma of a catastrophic defeat…….
As a knight, his life was over here.
"Drop dead……just drop dead like a dog……!"
"Ugh."
This was the reason the deputy squadron commander kept drinking and spewing curses. The rest of the squadron watched his wretched display and sighed, yet at the same time, they understood what he was going through, and so they kept trudging forward in silence.
It happened while the knight order was marching along the dirt road.
Right in the middle of the path, a man of meager build sat perfectly still.
His frame was nothing impressive, but the black cloak draped over his body was plainly of fine quality. The truly strange thing, however, was that he had placed a pristine white marble chair in the middle of a barren dirt road where nothing else stood for miles around. It was, without question, a bizarre sight.
"What the hell is this random bastard doing now?"
The deputy squadron commander growled, his words thoroughly fouled by drink.
"Could he be a mage, sir?"
The attendant explained cautiously, trying not to rile his master any further. The deputy squadron commander's expression twisted into something odd.
"A mage?"
"Yes, sir. Mages are known eccentrics, after all. I've heard that some of them set up in the middle of roads like this and pose riddles to anyone who passes by. Those who solve the riddle are allowed to pass, but those who don't get turned into toads or something of the sort."
"Hmph. Every kind of trashy freak exists in this world."
The deputy squadron commander let out a snort of contempt. But his voice had dropped noticeably lower — he was clearly worried that the mage might overhear. Mages were the sort of people who inspired both fear and awe, no matter when or where.
"Tell them to get the hell out of our way. Now."
"Yes, sir!"
The attendant took the order and sprinted ahead. He exchanged words with the mage in a polite manner, but his expression quickly grew troubled, and he returned to his master.
"My lord. That mage asked whether we are the Heidelberg knight order."
"Huh? So he already knows who we are?"
The deputy squadron commander hiccupped.
"If he knows, then why doesn't he just get off the road like a sensible person? What kind of game is he playing?"
"That's just it, sir… He said no matter what happens, he cannot move from the spot."
"What? Ha. Turns out he really is a lunatic after all!"
The Deputy Knight-Commander leapt down from his horse.
"Let me just ask this so-called distinguished wizard whether he truly cannot step aside no matter what happens."
He drew the hand-and-a-half sword hanging from his seal — a weapon designed to cleave through human skulls with ease.
To avoid being outdone in presence, the Deputy Knight-Commander deliberately radiated his Aura in thick waves as he approached the man seated in the chair.
"I am the Deputy Knight-Commander of the Heidelberg fortress garrison knight order."
The bear-like frame of the Deputy Knight-Commander cast a shadow across the ground.
"No matter how special a treatment wizards may receive, there is a limit to the rudeness of blocking a knight order's procession. Step aside at once!"
"Hm."
The man leisurely interlocked his fingers.
"Seems you've come to the right place. To put it more precisely, it is you who have arrived exactly where I need you to be. Well, the way I phrase it probably doesn't matter."
"Huh? What kind of nonsense are you spouting?"
"I was waiting for you."
The man smiled brightly.
Even with a knight blazing with a tremendous Aura right before his eyes and hundreds of knights arrayed behind him, the man showed not the slightest hint of fear or unease. If anything, it was the Deputy Knight-Commander who felt uneasy. Could this fellow be some outrageously high-ranking wizard?
Most of all, his manner of speaking was far too familiar. Without being an accomplished expert or a noble of considerable standing, it was nearly impossible to address a Deputy Knight-Commander so casually.
"...What exactly did you need our knight order for?"
The Deputy Knight-Commander's tone had noticeably softened. The political instincts that had carried him to his current position were sounding a warning.
"Fool."
In an instant, the man's gaze turned ferocious.
The mild, leisurely man who had been smiling moments ago had vanished without a trace. A deep, crimson killing intent poured out of him. His stare was so sharp and fierce that the Deputy Knight-Commander — a man who had never backed down from anyone in terms of nerve — faltered.
"What would I be waiting around for a filthy swine like you?"
"Wh-what did you say?"
"You can't even properly carry out the orders given by His Excellency, yet you have the nerve to saunter around under the sun."
The Deputy Knight-Commander sucked in a breath.
He realized who he was speaking to. Only one sort of person would speak to him of "His Excellency's orders." This had to be a secret envoy sent by the Consul, the great leader of the Republic!
The Deputy Knight-Commander immediately withdrew his Aura.
"I-I failed to recognize your esteemed presence."
"You even reek of alcohol—what a sight. You clearly know the guillotine in the capital is waiting for you, don't you? Drinking your farewell liquor in this world."
"Gasp!"
There was no need to see more.
The Deputy Knight-Commander abandoned his pride as a knight, throwing his greatsword to the ground with both hands.
"Please forgive me!"
Perhaps sensing the turn in atmosphere, his subordinates were murmuring behind him.
Without hesitation, the Deputy Knight-Commander knelt on one knee and prostrated himself. Pride was important. But while pride could be reclaimed later, a life once lost could never be taken back.
"Forgive? What is there to forgive?"
The man smiled cruelly.
"Do you even know what wrong you've committed against His Excellency and the Republic? Very well. Why don't you recite your crimes with that drunken mouth of yours."
"Failed to assassinate a key figure of the Demon Lord's army..."
"Then how dare you show your face in the capital, you wretch!"
A roar erupted.
It was a spine-chilling shout, so thunderous one might have mistaken it for the vast sky itself reverberating. The vice-commandant was so startled that his head bowed of its own accord, and the knights behind him nearly fell from their horses. Whoever had spoken had clearly used a magic spell to amplify their volume.
"You pig of a man! Go on, try to give me an excuse!"
"I-I did everything I could to be included in the delegation… but that cunning Saggal bunch declared that the knight order could not take part in the delegation… so there was nothing I could do, and the market master had to go alone…"
"Hmph."
The man's voice softened, if only slightly.
"The Consul bestowed a secret order upon your knight order. Is that correct?"
"Y-yes. Of course."
"In other words, you too bear responsibility for the assassination incident."
"That is quite correct…."
The man's question sounded somewhat odd, but the vice-commandant bowed his head without hesitation. One wrong word and he could be executed on the spot. Getting out of this situation alive was the only priority right now.
"There is one thing you did well. Do you know what it was?"
Was there finally a reward for casting aside every last shred of his pride and dignity? The man's voice grew markedly more pleasant. The vice-commandant rejoiced inwardly and answered humbly.
"I-I am but a fool, barely able to count the sins I have committed."
"That you readily spilled classified information the moment I asked."
"…?"
The vice-commandant raised his head.
The man was laughing cheerfully.
'Wait a moment.'
The vice-commandant's expression froze.
'Come to think of it, that bastard hasn't revealed his affiliation yet—.'
The vice-commandant couldn't continue his thoughts. His vision suddenly inverted, and moments later, everything went pitch black. Only silence blanketed the world.
"I had a feeling Elizabeth hadn't given secret orders to just one person. Thank you for answering so kindly, Vice-Commandant Friedrich."
*Thud.* The vice-commandant's head hit the ground and rolled away.
The greatsword that had erupted from the man's shadow retracted after claiming its prize, sinking back down. The knights were horrified by the massacre that had unfolded before their eyes. But they weren't given even enough time to be horrified, because greatswords began bursting from their own shadows as well.
"M-Magic! He's using magic!"
"The vice-commandant has fallen!"
The knights fell into chaos.
The man pocketed the vice-commandant's head, then pulled an artifact from inside his coat. He tore the artifact in two with both hands, activating a teleportation spell that transported him along with his chair to a nearby forest.
The man concealed himself in the undergrowth and watched from afar as the knights were cut down.
Powerless, the knights fell before the greatswords that surged relentlessly from the shadows. If there had been a seasoned veteran among them, he might have pointed out that this wasn't magic but a Monster known as a Death Knight, and that a host had to be nearby—they needed to find the host first. But the company was already reduced to half strength, and no such veteran remained.
In the end, roughly a hundred of the two hundred were slaughtered, and the rest fled without even gathering their weapons.
"……."
The man peeled the skin mask from his face. Dantalion's features were revealed underneath.
Dantalion murmured, as if trying to steady himself.
"……This war is me paying back the debt I owe Paimon for my catastrophic failure in the Frankish civil war."
Both the glory of victory and the purpose of the war rightfully belonged to Paimon.
If Dantalion had grown furious over the assassination attempt and publicly screamed for vengeance, Paimon would have had no choice but to hear him out. Dantalion and Raura had been instrumental in the fall of Heidelberg.
Dantalion held back.
Just as Paimon had forgiven him without any repercussions during the Frankish civil war, Dantalion likewise refrained from raising a single complaint, considering only the political advantage. Even if his subordinate had nearly been assassinated, he absolutely could not pursue a public act of revenge…….
"Still, you lot touched my subordinate."
Dantalion calmly looked down at the severed head of the deputy knight commander, which he had placed on the ground.
Dantalion knew well that Laura was not the type to demand revenge. She was content as long as she served her master, and if her master wished to help Paimon, she would willingly set aside any notion of revenge.
But had Dantalion not made a promise long ago? That he would exact revenge on behalf of the insults his subordinates had suffered.
It was by no means a trivial promise.
To keep that promise, Dantalion tracked the knight order for two days and nights without sleep, and finally chose the most opportune spot for an ambush to carry out his revenge.
Dantalion secretly placed the severed head of the deputy knight commander in Laura's room within the dungeon.
Laura was puzzled by the sudden addition to her collection, but she recognized that the cloth wrapping the head was the banner of the Heidelberg fortress garrison knight order. And she immediately figured out who had done this, and why.
"My master is even more of a pervert!"
"No, Laura is the bigger pervert!"
Yet Laura made no mention of it to Dantalion. Nor did Dantalion drop any hint to Laura. The master and servant spent the day as they always did, exchanging barbs and laughing together.
That was how the two of them exchanged their feelings.
============================ Author's Note ============================
─ Chapter 'Farnese of the Blue Water Chrysanthemum' END.