How a Wizard Survives (53)
How a Wizard Survives (53)
The inquisitors assigned to greet the neighboring kingdom's delegation began praying in unison.
They weren't praying aloud, but I had no trouble guessing the content.
'Please let it be a worthless prince... something along those lines.'
Prince Marcel the Second's social standing as Alina's prospective husband was unassailable.
That left the citizens of Reshutal with exactly one hope.
That the prince himself would be so hideous or so vicious in character that the marriage would be called off.
Princess Alina wasn't lacking in any obvious way, objectively speaking.
And the king doted on her, so he wouldn't force her into a match with a worthless partner.
But their prayers were met with disappointment.
Prince Marcel the Second, whom we met outside the castle, was a refreshingly handsome man.
He had an almost fairy-tale air about him.
Behind him, the delegation of knights and other attendants stood in orderly ranks.
"Oh, what? He's good-looking."
"Still, isn't his nose a little flat?"
"Not at all..."
Even the Heretic Inquisitors, who had been trying to find any fault they could, were forced to concede.
The two exchanged brief greetings before returning to the royal palace.
The prince looked satisfied the moment he saw Alina, but Alina herself showed little reaction.
It was nothing like her usual attempts to start a conversation.
"Good. It seems Her Highness doesn't fancy him..."
"Stop talking nonsense and focus on your duty."
At Katrina's sharp rebuke, the inquisitors promptly averted their eyes.
The prince's delegation included inquisitors from his own kingdom.
There was a simple reason Heretic Inquisitors had been assigned as escorts.
Most people are far weaker than demons.
Heretic Inquisitors were the ones who fought demons—perhaps 'beat them down' was an exaggeration, but at least they could try.
In other words, if the escort includes a Heretic Inquisitor, no amount of human attackers can cause a problem.
The long peace among humans probably owed something to that fact.
'The Wizardvein ancestors really carved out an excellent position.'
I recalled Ulysses's words and nodded to myself.
At the palace, after the delegation had been received, the upcoming schedule was announced.
"Beginning tomorrow, ahead of the wedding ceremony, a jousting tournament will be held. Inquisitors, please assist with security at the arena."
"A jousting tournament? There was no prior announcement. Is that acceptable?"
"It is acceptable. Only knights from the two delegations will participate."
So they weren't accepting outside competitors.
I'd heard that these tournaments often accepted outside participants in order to scout talent... this was unexpected.
When I admitted that to Katrina, she smiled bitterly.
"Jaeger, your common knowledge is a little outdated."
"They don't do that anymore?"
"They don't. Accepting outside competitors is pointless. The good talents are already being consumed on the Front Lines."
"Ahh..."
It made sense. The war with the demons wasn't a matter of just a day or two.
Every knight who might have distinguished himself in a tournament would have already been deployed there.
This event would amount to nothing more than a chance for both sides to gauge each other's skill.
The palace soon grew livelier.
After meeting Prince Marcel II, the king seemed reasonably satisfied; his expression became less gloomy.
The fact that this doting fool wasn't muttering complaints was remarkable in itself.
The prince stayed close to Alina.
They were undeniably a handsome couple, and yet I felt an inexplicable sense of displeasure.
Katrina, on the other hand, wore a rare thin smile.
She smiled often enough around me...
But for her to do so while on duty was practically unprecedented.
Beset by an irritation I couldn't account for, I reported to the palace early the next morning.
After relieving the Holy Knights who had handled the night watch, I moved straight to the jousting arena.
The arena was already prepared.
I did not want to imagine how frantically the palace servants must have been rushing around.
"Arena check complete. We wait as we are."
"So, Inquisitors can't compete in the tournament, right?"
"Obviously. We remain neutral. By the same token, Einhold can't compete either. If mages get involved, the atmosphere turns strange."
"Ah... fair enough."
As I nodded, the Einhold Family entered the arena, conversing among themselves.
The family head, whom I hadn't seen in some time, greeted us.
"Lady Katrina, it has been a while. Has Sir Jaeger been well?"
"It has been a while."
"Spider Boots, I see. You have a good eye. It would be nice if you became a mage yourself..."
"That's quite enough joking."
Katrina, angered by the familiar suggestion, stepped forward with fire in her eyes.
Still, this was bold behavior in front of Heretic Inquisitors.
The family head appeared to concede the point and quietly withdrew.
"Thank you for recognizing that it was a joke."
"Everyone rise. His Majesty the King enters!"
Then the king, the princess, and Prince Marcel entered, and the tournament promptly began.
I ended up beside the princess, with Katrina on her other side.
Princess Alina responded intermittently to Marcel's chatter, but she kept stealing glances at me.
Her manner suggested she was worried I might not welcome this marriage.
I lowered my eyes to make my feelings clear.
'Whether you get married or not, I don't care...'
The princess flinched as if I'd struck her with a switch and forced herself to turn her head away.
Once the matches started, the prince's side held the advantage overall.
Since the Einhold Family, one of the pillars of Reshutal, wasn't competing, the result was to be expected.
The knights fielded by our side took lances to the chest and were sent tumbling one after another.
Crack!
The tournament lance shattered with a loud report, and another knight fell.
Since this was for competition, the lances seemed deliberately designed to break easily.
Seeing only his allies take hit after hit, Hector Einhold fumed beside the family head.
Luft wasn't visible—he must have been assigned elsewhere.
"Brother, can't I just go out there? I could turn those bastards into minced meat."
"You absolutely cannot go out there if you put it that way. Still, it's a bit much if we only take hits, so..."
The king, starting to feel embarrassed himself, was eyeing the possibility of letting Einhold compete.
Prince Marcel, quick on the uptake, played along.
"Reshutal's knights seem not quite warmed up yet. If it's not too much trouble, might we see a little of the Einhold Family's skill as well?"
"If you put it that way..."
While this discussion was going on in the stands, a knight from Reshutal scored a point for the first time in a while.
Crunch!
With a violent noise, the opponent was unhorsed in satisfying fashion.
Applause was just about to erupt from the stands when a shard of the shattered lance came flying viciously in this direction.
"What!"
It was just a piece of wood, but it was sizeable and extremely sharp—more than enough to kill a person.
The trajectory of the wooden fragment was aimed squarely at Alina and Marcel.
The Einhold Family couldn't recklessly use magic because of the Heretic Inquisitors.
Alina was technically a demon and wouldn't die from being hit by something like that... but her identity being revealed here wouldn't be ideal either.
If things went wrong, it would ruin Ulysses's and Ash's plan.
After a moment's hesitation, I simply drew my sword.
Swish-swish...
"Whoa..."
"H-he deflected every single piece?"
Once I had knocked aside all the fragments that had been flying in a straight line, exclamations of admiration burst out about two beats late.
Prince Marcel, nearly flattened against his chair, finally breathed again as the owner of the broken lance came racing over.
The knight, who had nearly become a royal murderer, dropped to his knees in the dirt without hesitation and pressed his forehead to the ground.
"M-my deepest apologies, Your Majesty!"
"W-why, you worthless wretch!"
Proving every rumor about his doting nature, the king lost all reason and began cursing viciously.
Reinhardt, who was guarding his side, pressed lightly on his shoulder to calm him.
"Compose yourself. The honored guests are watching."
Truthfully, anyone could see it wasn't intentional.
Doing that on purpose would have been far more absurd.
The king's rage only subsided once Princess Alina personally stepped in.
In the meantime, Marcel turned toward me, abruptly took my hands, and expressed his gratitude.
"S-sir Holy Knight. You saved my life."
"Not a Holy Knight. A squire."
When I awkwardly corrected him, Marcel's eyes widened further.
"A squire? With that level of skill? If you ever grow weary of burning heretics, perhaps you might come and become a knight under me..."
He was surprisingly frank and decent, this man.
I was thinking that to myself when Reinhardt cut in like a hawk.
"Jaeger will be formally invested soon enough. And one can never grow weary of burning heretics. Isn't that right, Jaeger?"
"It is. Every moment is enjoyable. Each time feels fresh."
When I gave the model answer, Reinhardt, for once, gave me a thumbs-up.
Thanks to Marcel's generous laughter, the jousting tournament ended on a reasonably warm note.
It could easily have been taken as an assassination attempt, so this was a great relief.
After being summoned separately by the king and promised a reward, I was on my way out when Prince Marcel caught hold of me again.
Unlike earlier, this was a place with only the prince's own people around.
He stood me before him and spoke with a pleased expression.
"Sir Jaeger. Allow me to thank you once more for your splendid performance earlier."
"No, I merely did my duty..."
"No, modesty must have its limits. You're embarrassing our knights. Haha! I wish to repay you by any means... For a knight, how about a sword, as is customary?"
Shing.
Marcel had already prepared a blade...
But I answered by drawing my Adamantite sword instead.
The prince's aides, who had stirred slightly at my side, soon recognized the sword.
"That's the Wizardvein Family's..."
"He received the Lion's Sword!"
"Good heavens, to hand such a treasured blade to a squire..."
Once Marcel recognized the Adamantite sword, he could no longer press a sword on me.
I managed to decline his reward.
Truthfully, I wanted to accept it, but it carried the risk of causing problems later as a violation of political neutrality.
"The Inquisition Branch already receives support from each kingdom, so further rewards are unnecessary."
"Still, to send you away empty-handed..."
"It's fine. You've already thanked me enough."
At last, I understood the source of my displeasure.
Marcel was too decent a man to marry a demon.
I stepped closer and spoke before thinking.
"Her Highness Princess Alina is a demon. Please be careful."
"Wha? Wh-what is the meaning..."
His aides were appalled at my bombshell.
They weren't going to believe me even if I told the truth anyway.
The prince would probably figure it out eventually.
Prince Marcel's eyes flew wide open as if he'd been nailed to the spot, then he smoothly settled the situation.
"Haha! What a wicked joke. The citizens of Reshutal must truly love Lady Alina. Seeing how reluctant they are to let her go..."
"Winning the Saintess Election six years in a row is no small feat."
"I understand Sir Jaeger's meaning. It makes me envy the Inquisition Branch. To have a warrior like you at one's command—no amount of gold would be a waste."
The prince ended up pressing a bottle of fine wine into my hands.
It wasn't to my taste, but Lady Ash would probably like it.
With that thought, I accepted the situation.
Contrary to Ash's concerns, Marcel's side didn't seem likely to attempt an assassination right away.
And why would they?
What would killing Alina right after marrying her achieve?
Marcel had nothing to gain by pulling something like that.
Without Alina, he would be nothing more than a foreign-born hanger-on.
Assassinating the princess would mean undermining his own foundation.
'Even if he were to attempt an assassination, it would only be worth trying after he'd gotten a child with Alina.'
The thought of the two of them having a child made my chest feel strangely tight again.
I left the palace with a faint, oppressive feeling.
A hunting competition was scheduled for tomorrow instead of jousting, so it would be best to hurry and get some rest.