The Northern Assembly (4)
The old knight, Sir Deri, had intended to lose to Adel.
He did not know why Adel was at Lichtenauer — and as an attendant, of all things. The particulars escaped him, but they hardly mattered. As a former comrade-in-arms, he wanted to convey his gratitude and his respect.
And so he had meant to bestow upon Adel the distinction of having defeated a retired Imperial Knight.
He had his pride as a knight, of course. But given who stood across from him, that pride was no obstacle at all. If anything, winning would have been the greater humiliation.
A dull, heavy clash rang out.
"…"
"Hah…?"
What followed, however, left even that seasoned Imperial Knight faintly bewildered.
Why…?
Wary that it might show — that someone in the crowd might notice — he had received Adel's blade with the utmost care. The ideal picture was a loss by the slimmest of margins.
And yet, at some point, his own sword was pointed at Adel's throat. Adel's blade, in turn, rested against his chest.
This was not a victory for either side. A draw — and Adel had intended it from the start.
"Thank you, Sir Deri."
"…"
"But I will accept only the sentiment."
What heart Sir Deri had carried into the bout, what purpose had guided his blade, even the precise moment he had meant to fold and concede defeat — Adel had already read it all.
"…Heh heh."
His move had been seen through. Perfectly. Was there anything more absurd for a knight? Anything that could wound his pride more deeply?
But Sir Deri, now fully aware of who his opponent was, merely shook his head. Even if he had still been an Imperial Knight — even if someone else entirely had stepped onto this floor — the result would have been the same. Adel had been thinking of him. If anything, he ought to be offering thanks.
"Have you, by any chance, revealed your identity?"
With cheers pouring in from every side, Sir Deri put the question to Adel with quiet care.
"…"
Adel gave a slight shake of his head. Someday the time would come to speak honestly. Someday the moment would arrive when his secret could no longer be kept. But not now — and that much, he made clear.
"…I see."
Relief settled over Sir Deri's thoughts. He understood now why the Emperor had buried their existence in secrecy. For the imperial family? For the empire? Neither. It had been for them — for those pitiful souls.
They had not charged at the demonic beasts out of ambition, or justice, or loyalty. They had hurled themselves forward on nothing but vengeance and hatred.
Even now they still grappled with those monsters. But the Emperor had hoped that someday they would live as people — live as human beings. When they finally laid down their swords, thinking it was time to rest, he had not wanted their past to drag them back onto the battlefield at someone else's urging.
That was why the Emperor had kept Ulfhedinn a thoroughly guarded secret.
If he wasn't bound to this place because he's Ulfhedinn, then I'm truly glad.
Anyone who had witnessed their combat even once would tremble at the desperation of it, at the sheer wretchedness. And so the Imperial Knights, too, had kept their existence hidden — not merely by imperial decree, but because they wished for those warriors to live as people, as human beings.
"…And. Actually."
Sir Deri had been about to offer his respects when Adel spoke again.
"Lady Sien told me to take it easy. Or rather, to go easy."
"…Pardon?"
"So it would have been rather inconvenient if I had won."
Sien. Sien — that was the head of House Lichtenauer. Why her name, of all names, should surface now, Sir Deri could not immediately say. He tilted his head, and then a sigh escaped him.
So that was it.
The strangely bright energy he had sensed from Adel. The old knight finally understood where it came from.
"I-impossible…"
Meanwhile, the northern family heads were letting out exclamations of their own. Sir Deri was Sir Deri — but the young man named Adel was astonishing in his own right.
Age aside, this was a man who had risen all the way to Imperial Knight. A veteran of the Great War who had cut down countless demonic beasts. And against him, Adel had not yielded an inch — and had even forced a draw.
It was a feat that even knights could scarcely hope to achieve, let alone an attendant. And this young man had done it.
Naturally, every manner of praise spilled from the family heads' lips.
"Magnificent! Truly magnificent! Sir Deri was already serving as an Imperial Knight before the Great War even began. To display swordsmanship of that caliber against a man like him…"
"A genius. The word hardly does him justice. This is talent bestowed by the heavens themselves, without a doubt."
Sir Geon of Fiore had been a knight in his prime, true enough — but he fell well short of Sir Deri, a former Imperial Knight. Deri had been active as a knight since before the Great War, and when the fighting against the demonic beasts had been at its fiercest, he had thrown himself into battle after battle. Experience, technique, temperament — in every respect, Sir Deri stood a full step above.
And Adel had drawn even with a knight of that caliber. Had the bout been allowed to run just a little longer, the family heads suspected, it might not have ended in a draw at all — but in Adel's victory.
"Now I understand why she brought an attendant as her escort rather than a knight."
"Indeed. Talent like that could fairly be called genius. Hahaha!"
"A genius attendant of a renowned swordsmanship family! How remarkably fitting!"
In the midst of it all, Adel finished the bout and returned to Sien's side. Words flew at him from every direction — well done, magnificent, the best they'd ever seen. Adel offered only a slight bow in answer, then took his place beside Sien once more and resumed his duties as her escort.
Sir Deri stepped before the family heads in turn. A faint smile hung on the old knight's face, and the lords took it for the simple joy of having found an excellent junior. That, of course, was not quite the reason — at least not from Sir Deri's point of view.
"You truly worked hard today, Sir Deri."
"Not at all. I may have grown old, but swinging a sword remains a joy as ever. If anything, I am thoroughly delighted — to have crossed blades with such an excellent opponent."
"So even Sir Deri, a former Imperial Knight, found it impressive?"
At one family head's remark, Sir Deri smiled as if to say that stating it twice would be stating it too much. Then he cleared his throat, as though something had been on his mind.
"My lady of Lichtenauer. May I ask why such a fine talent occupies the position of attendant rather than knight?"
"Ah… I felt I couldn't make an exception. As everyone knows, knighthood is an honor that can only be taken after serving as an attendant, receiving at least a year of training, and passing the examination."
Sir Deri nodded at Sien's answer. Indeed — if one appointed anyone a knight on skill alone, one could never take the measure of what mattered most: the heart. These days, with so many dead, replenishing the ranks of knighthood had become the first priority. But before the Great War, temperament had been valued even above ability. That was how honorable — and how noble — the station of knight was meant to be.
"I understand. A decision worthy of a renowned swordsmanship family. I'm impressed."
"It's nothing special. More than that, thank you once again for showing us such splendid swordsmanship."
In that warm and easy atmosphere, the day's official schedule came to a close. All that remained was the Northern Festival — the true flower of the assembly, thrown by the crowds that had poured in from every house.
The festival belonged not to the family heads, but to the ordinary people of the empire. There, if only for a little while, they could set down their fear, laugh and talk, and hold onto some hope for living. In hard times, nothing mattered more than soothing the hearts of the people. Nobles lingering in a place like that would only get in the way.
And so Sien returned swiftly to Lichtenauer.
"You worked hard today, Adel."
"Thank you."
Sien looked at him — at Adel, who always finished things with a word or two and nothing more. It had been the same when he had driven back Sir Geon of Fiore and taken the man's arm. It was the same now, against Sir Deri, who had once been an Imperial Knight. No matter how she looked at him, this was no ordinary man.
It was not simply that his talent with a sword ran deep. Even through her own limited insight, she could tell that something far greater lay beneath it — a foundation of real combat experience so vast she could scarcely imagine it.
"Adel. I think you're truly remarkable."
"What do you mean?"
"Your skill, of course — but that unshakable heart of yours. I've watched you for a while now. You never waver, no matter the situation. Even with demonic beasts before you. Even facing skilled knights. Your eyes don't even flicker."
"…"
He knew perfectly well what she meant by it. But Adel offered nothing further. And Sien, for her part, did not press. To say more would have meant talking about Adel's past.
"Thank you again today. Adel — thanks to you, we were able to show Lichtenauer's strength."
"Was that thanks to me?"
"Of course. What attendant could fight on equal terms with a former Imperial Knight? Even most knights would struggle with that. And you did it with your head held high."
"I am sorry, but I cannot agree with that."
Could not agree? What was that supposed to mean? Sien blinked and looked at him.
"I merely showed my sword. I merely fought. And the one who demonstrated Lichtenauer's strength was not me — it was you, Lady Sien. You were the center of everything. So I have done nothing."
"That's…"
If any other retainer had said such a thing, she would have simply smiled. She would have taken it as words offered for her sake. But coming from Adel, it felt different. A quiet relief in herself. A sense of pride. And…
"…Thank you."
Not loyalty. Not some hidden design. Just a man speaking simply, calmly, exactly as he meant it. Sien looked at Adel, and a very small, thoroughly happy smile touched her lips.