Coming of Age
…This is exactly why I hate closed-eye characters.
Agreed. Seriously, I can't stand kids like that.
If you didn't want to answer, you could just keep your mouth shut. Instead, this closed-eye type twisted every reply just to mess with your head.
Jun's already rock-bottom opinion of the guy punched straight through the floor and kept digging. The sight of him now was thoroughly unpleasant — but Jun didn't let it show.
Nine times out of ten, people like that were sadists who lived to torment others. Show them irritation and they'd light up, stoking the fire even higher.
Our Juni is so, so smart. But what do you think? Could what that closed-eye said be true?
Unfortunately… yeah.
Ugh! Who was it? Fortuna's gonna teach them a lesson!
Who knows?
Jun had joined this war solely to protect the people he'd formed bonds with. Whatever his reasons, his presence had been a boon to Leon. There was no reason Leon would sell Jun's information to the enemy.
Well — if Leon ever learned that Jun had awakened a Third Core, jealousy might push him toward discarding a used tool. But Leon still didn't know.
The boss has Giath, so he's out. What about the Order?
Not impossible… but Leon still doesn't know I awakened a Third Core. Looking at that, it probably wasn't them either.
The Order's priests were assigned as Leon's bodyguards. From time to time, though, they joined the fighting in the mountains for support — and that was how they'd come to know of Jun. More precisely, of the Blue Flash.
In peacetime they worked as ordinary priests, so they would know of Jun's existence. Watching someone freely traverse space as the Blue Flash, they would naturally have connected the dots. The fact that they hadn't even reported it to Leon — who wasn't an enemy — made it safe to assume they hadn't handed the information to the other side either.
So the answer was basically fixed from the start. Why even ask?
There could have been another route.
Over four years of combat, a fair number of assassins had survived — but not a single one had ever escaped. Jun had caught every last one of them before they could leave the mountain.
That was why he'd sighed and suspected his own side from the beginning. No enemy had fled, yet the enemy knew his information. That meant someone on his side had sold him out.
That possibility's higher, sure — but I can't be certain. There are no satellites here, but there are supernatural abilities.
A clairvoyant-type psychic power, or a magic that read the earth's memories, could have spied on his battles. Even clairvoyance couldn't pierce pitch darkness cleanly, and earth-memory magic lost accuracy after roughly half a day — so the odds were low. Honestly, though, Jun had hoped the enemy had learned about him through those kinds of abilities.
He preferred not to suspect his own allies if he could help it.
Unfortunately, it seemed that hope had been empty. The closed-eye character's heart rate had quickened — just a fraction — the moment Jun asked the question.
"Haaah…"
What a pain. Let's wrap this up and rest.
Learning that an ally had betrayed him drained what little motivation he'd had left. Wanting nothing more than to return to the cabin, wash up, and sleep, Jun prodded the closed-eye man in a listless voice.
"You waited here because you had something to say to me, right? I'm tired, so just spit it out."
"You seem rather troubled. A pity — I was hoping to chat a little longer with young Jun."
"I'll have to decline, firmly. Talking with you would only make me more exhausted. Oh — one thing does have me curious, though. Do you have any friends? New Year's coming up. How many well-wishes do you think you'll get?"
"…"
"…Pfft!"
For a single instant, the smile the closed-eye man had worn the entire time vanished, and his brow furrowed hard. The knight who had been watching him out of the corner of his eye — apparently curious about the answer — saw that expression and let out a small laugh.
Then he began looking at Jun with the faintest trace of goodwill.
Because I landed a hit? Looks like he's been bottling a lot up. Could be the Social Butterfly's Blessing, too.
Anyway — enemy or not, I feel for him.
"…I will not be answering personal questions."
"Not because the reality is too depressing to face, right?"
"Pfft! Puhah!"
"…We've worked together a long time, yet I never knew Sir Matthew was such a cheerful man."
"Maybe it's just that you're not a very funny guy, old man?"
"Khahaha!"
"Sir Matthew."
"Ahem. I'll restrain myself."
"You aren't exactly refuting young Jun's words, I notice."
The knight — Matthew — clamped his mouth shut and avoided the closed-eye man's gaze. The closed-eye man glared at him for a moment, veins standing out on his forehead in a way that clashed with his smiling face, then finally heaved a deep sigh and spoke.
"Dear me. People around me have always said I was rather witty, but it seems Sir Matthew never thought so."
"Guess not. So who told you that you were witty, old man? Your mom? Your dad?"
Crrk.
"I said I would not answer personal questions. And do not call me 'old man.' I am still unmarried."
"That…"
"In case you didn't know — I will make this clear. It is not that I couldn't marry. I simply chose not to."
The closed eyes opened, revealing sharp pupils, and Jun shut his mouth without a second thought. He'd worked off a decent amount of stress already. Time to stop.
Our Juni's a bit of an S himself, you know.
Me? No way.
Liar. Even when I tell you to stop, you just keep grinning and zapping me over and over.
Ahem.
At Fortuna's scolding, Jun cleared his throat awkwardly. In the meantime, the closed-eye man — having somewhat reined in his agitation — cleared his throat as well, resetting the mood.
"Since the matter of titles has come up, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Ehiru Ludendorff. I am a Viscount of the Empire, and I serve under His Highness the First Prince. The knight beside me is Matthew Godoi — one of the Four Swords His Highness holds dear. And lastly, these three…"
"Do I really need to know?"
"No, you needn't. Saves me the trouble of explaining. How convenient."
"…"
Crrk.
A low, ominous thrum of killing intent.
At the blatant dismissal, the three black-clad figures made no effort to hide their displeasure. Objectively speaking, both Jun's and the closed-eye man's attitudes had been thoroughly offensive.
You two act weirdly alike.
Fortuna, that crossed a line. Apologize.
Ugh. Sorry. That was a bit much, huh?
After accepting Fortuna's apology, Jun studied the three black-clad figures. A killing intent so faint yet so sharp it evoked a dagger waiting for an opening. That distinctive aura alone, combined with their attire, marked them as the assassins' handlers.
Judging by the murderous looks, they wanted to tear Jun apart right then and there. Fair enough — four years of shadow war had cost them their entire force.
Next battle, he'd probably be facing them. Three assassins each a notch below Robin. Just thinking about it made his head hurt already.
"You seem to have guessed why they are here. Then do you also understand why Sir Matthew and I have come?"
"Recruitment?"
"Precisely. Though you are an enemy, His Highness the First Prince was considerably impressed by young Jun's exploits. And at the same time, he was saddened. A child who would one day set the continent ablaze, he said, had boarded a sinking ship."
Gesturing theatrically as if performing on a stage, Ehiru at last extended a hand toward Jun — like offering a party invitation.
"His Highness then commanded: Bring young Jun to me. I shall raise that child to even greater heights."
"And the past four years get swept under the rug?"
"Yes. His Highness declared he would never hold young Jun accountable. On the contrary — he would lavish you with wealth, power, and women to your heart's content."
"That's… generous. Almost unbelievably so."
"Haha. I thought you might say that — which is why His Highness gave me this."
Ehiru rummaged in his coat and produced a rolled sheet of paper, unfurling it wide. It was a contract. Not just any contract — a Sacred Contract, the kind that brought down divine punishment upon anyone who broke it.
Everything Ehiru had just described was written there. Of the two signature lines beneath, one already bore an ornate, flowing signature.
Forgery… unlikely. Sacred Contracts can only be drawn up through a priest.
"…So he really means it."
"Heh heh. Don't be so astonished already, young Jun. Our magnanimous Highness instructed me to grant, as far as possible, whatever else you might desire beyond what is written here. Come now — if there's something you want, speak up. No need to be shy."
"If you wish it, I will take you as my disciple."
"Ohhh! Sir Matthew, young Jun seems to have made quite an impression on you. Young Jun, do not let this chance slip by. Sir Matthew is a scion of the Godoi family — one of the Empire's most renowned sword lineages. Become his disciple and you will receive training and sword arts of a quality incomparable to anything you've known."
Ehiru pressed the pitch like a door-to-door salesman pushing a product. Matthew, for his part, pretended indifference while his eyes glittered, silently urging Jun on.
Toward the two of them, Jun bowed at the waist.
"I'm sorry."
"Mm…"
"Young Jun, why refuse?"
"The adults around me always said so."
Jun pushed back his hood, revealing his face, and continued.
"If some overly friendly old man is being really nice and tells you to come along — never, ever go with him."
Matthew and Ehiru nodded blankly.
"He refused?"
A dry, emotionless voice. Precisely because it carried no feeling at all, the pressure hit harder. Ehiru swallowed for no good reason and, without thinking, pulled the communication crystal he had let drift slightly away back up to his lips.
"That is correct, Your Highness. However, room for persuasion still remains. A great deal of it, one might even say."
Jun — that monstrous orphan — had sworn before the gods themselves that he was neither a vassal of the Bastard Prince, Leon, nor a secret weapon of the Council or the Order.
He had also stated that he fought solely to keep innocent people from dying, caught up in a power struggle — and that whether the Bastard Prince lived or died chasing the throne was of no concern to him whatsoever.
Troublesome news, and yet, in another sense, welcome.
Originally, they had intended to eliminate the church in Primuni Village and everyone belonging to it — orphans and priests alike. To erase every possible trace that the Bastard Prince had ever existed there.
If even a scrap of evidence remained, and if the current Emperor learned of it, things would become complicated in any number of ways. In the worst case, His Majesty might break the secret pact he had made with the Empress and back a prince other than the First. The imperial throne might have become largely ceremonial, but its authority had not vanished entirely. The moment the Emperor named another prince as Crown Prince, various factions would rally to that prince.
Such an outcome had to be prevented at all costs. So the correct course was to ruthlessly kill everyone who knew of the Bastard Prince — even the children.
But if they could recruit a freak of a child who had reached the Green rank before even undergoing his coming-of-age ceremony… then keeping the orphans alive, risk of exposure and all, would be the wiser choice.
That was how Ehiru saw it. The one he served, however, seemed to think differently.
"Hmm…"
"Your Highness — surely you do not mean to abandon the recruitment of that child?"
"No. That is not it. How could I discard a weapon of such quality? However…"
"However?"
"…And so?"
"…Understood."
The communication crystal, which had shone brightly, lost its light. Even so, Ehiru stared down at it for a long while without a word.