Imperial Friendship Match (6)
Fortunately, the two of them never actually drew their blades on each other.
It was only because Imperial Princess Lyla stepped between them just as they looked ready to pull out their weapons at any moment.
"……My deepest apologies, Your Highness."
The Southern Legion Commander flinched in surprise and hurriedly bowed his head, but the old knight from Spero, Reno Brutagne, was different.
"I am truly sorry, Your Highness. However, this boar-like fellow has shown such utter disregard for someone who came to offer aid. As a knight, how could I possibly swallow such an insult?"
Perhaps out of consideration for Lyla's status, he maintained a somewhat respectful posture, yet his tone and words were laced with sharp thorns.
A vein bulged on Callios's forehead, and the members of the Southern Army began to twist their faces, radiating a menacing aura. The six old knights from Spero—who could hardly be called young, with half-gray or fully white hair—showed no concern for being outnumbered and stood their ground. The students from Spero looked around in panic, turning their eyes toward Alphonse, but he simply stood with his arms crossed, showing no intention of intervening.
Just as Chrome was about to speak up, unable to watch any longer—
"I apologize."
At the single phrase from the princess, every eye in the conference room turned toward her.
"Though it may only be for the brief period until the friendship match concludes, the Southern Legion Commander is someone who has boarded the same ship as I, Lyla Everblaze Barhart. If that commander has committed rudeness, I cannot claim to bear no responsibility. Once again, I offer my sincere apology for insulting your valor. Knights of Spero."
Not only her words of apology, but the sight of her lowering her head caused the Southern Army's eyes to widen, and even the old knights' gazes wavered. It was not a deep bow or a kneel—merely a light dip of the head—but considering the difference in their stations, it was an excessive display of courtesy.
The heated atmosphere that had been rising moments before vanished, replaced by a subtly chilly air that lingered in the room. A faint sense of dejection and disappointment spread among the members of the Imperial Southern Army, while the knights of Spero looked flustered, clearly not expecting the Imperial Princess to go this far, though a hint of pride crept into their expressions.
The old knight Reno spoke.
"It is quite all right, Your Highness. How could the shortcomings of subordinates be considered the sin of their lord?"
"Will you truly forgive us?"
"Of course."
To the old knight, who wore a satisfied expression, Lyla smiled back in return.
They say you cannot spit on a smiling face. Though it might have felt a bit awkward, a harmonious atmosphere seemed to return…
"Thank you. In that case, you may leave now."
…or so everyone thought.
Reno glanced around, wondering if he had truly heard correctly. Whether it was those detestable Imperial soldiers or his longtime comrades, every single one of them wore an expression of disbelief. It seemed this was no mere hallucination.
Thus, the old knight asked,
"I find it difficult to understand the meaning behind Your Highness's words."
With an unchanging smile on her face, Lyla replied,
"I said you may return to where you belong. Old knight of the Spero Kingdom."
"We have yet to accomplish anything. How could we possibly leave?"
At that answer, the princess tilted her head and asked,
"Then, are you saying you will fight alongside me?"
The old knight answered without hesitation.
"Of course, Your Highness."
The princess looked at each remaining member of the Spero side one by one and asked,
"And the rest of you feel the same?"
The academy students, having been briefed by Alphonse beforehand, nodded obediently. The other old knights looked slightly puzzled but did not hesitate in their response.
"That is correct, Your Highness."
After hearing all their answers, the princess nodded.
"I see. So that's how it is."
Even now, the princess continued to smile elegantly. At least on the surface.
Only those who had spent time with Lyla before—and who were particularly quick-witted—sensed something and moved quickly. Chrome grabbed Fiore and the two of them hid behind Ligret's back. (Due to their builds, the two behind had to crouch down.) Pino dragged Rabaul in front of her. (Rabaul looked confused, not understanding what was happening, but after a single glare from Pino, he shut his mouth and stood exactly where she indicated.)
Lyla spoke.
"Hearing you all say such things brings me joy, as if I have gained a thousand soldiers and ten thousand horses. Then, Sir Reno, I shall issue my first command. In war, the unification of command is paramount. Set aside your personal feelings. For this occasion, follow the Southern Legion Commander's lead."
The old knight frowned and objected.
"That is impossible, Your Highness. We have long coordinated our breathing together and possess tactics built upon that foundation. Receiving commands from an outsider who does not understand them would instead be dangerous."
The smile vanished from the princess's lips.
She asked the others,
"Do the rest of you share Sir Reno's opinion?"
"We do, Your Highness."
The old knight spoke up again.
"Your Highness, it would be better if instead—"
But that was as far as he got.
A mass of flame carrying terrifying heat descended upon his head.
BOOOOM!
The shockwave and heat that erupted in the center of the conference room caused many to lose their balance, and some even fell backward. An enemy attack? An assassination? Who? Why now? All sorts of questions flooded their minds, and that hesitation slowed their actions. It was a fatal opening.
The cold that followed the heat engulfed the people of the Spero Kingdom. Ice pillars rose at various angles, restraining them firmly without causing injury. It was magic—and not just any magic, but high-tier spells cast with a chilling speed and precision.
Only after seeing the princess standing proudly at the center did they finally understand the situation and spring into action.
The academy students, having completed their Coloring, released vivid red mana, while the old knights emitted a slightly murkier hue. They shattered the restraints formed of ice pillars in an instant. Even after being completely caught off guard and unable to move their limbs properly, their skillful response to high-tier magic truly deserved to be called elite.
But the princess was no ordinary person either.
The very moment they regained their freedom, an impromptu prison created with a high-tier mana barrier had already trapped them all.
The princess immediately formed a massive sphere of magical power above her palm, while the knights poured mana into their swords and bodies, clearly intending to slice through such a wall.
Slash!
Had it not been for Reno—who, despite being scorched by the initial flame ambush, had responded to the successive spells and charged at the princess with his blade—the direct confrontation might have actually taken place.
The old knight, his body marked with burn scars, shouted in fury.
"What the hell is this?! A member of the imperial family setting such a despicable trap—"
"A trap? I'm not sure if you people are even worth the effort of setting one."
"Have you lost your mind?!"
Even with a blade pressed close to her throat, Imperial Princess Lyla did not waver in the slightest. It was neither arrogance that looked down on the old knight's skill, nor confidence that she could easily block any attack.
No matter how exceptional a mage Lyla was, simultaneously defeating dozens of skilled individuals capable of responding to high-tier spells in such a confined space was impossible.
But what did that matter?
"Yes, I have finished speaking. What value could there possibly be in a knight who cannot even cut the throat of a mere young girl?"
Despite Lyla's cold sneer, the old knight could only flush red; he could not swing his sword. How could he possibly do so? Cutting the throat of an imperial royal in the heart of the empire? Even a gruesome execution would be considered light punishment. The entire clan would be wiped out, and the kingdom itself would face devastating consequences.
"You hide neither mockery nor hatred toward your comrades, yet you agree to fight together only to change your stance when it comes to actual policy. And when the time to fight arrives, you hesitate out of fear of repercussions. With behavior like this, should I truly trust you?"
"It was none other than you, Princess, who summoned us here!"
"That is precisely why I apologized. That is why I told you that you could leave. Yet you refused."
Finally, Reno fell silent, and those trapped within the barrier lowered their heads. The Southern Army looked as though they might rush in at any moment, but the Southern Legion Commander was holding them back, preventing them from acting.
The only ones observing from the position of true bystanders were Chrome's group and Alphonse.
"You must resent the empire. You must despise me, who carries its blood. Do as you wish. That is your right."
She spoke to the knights of Spero—to the people of the nation that had been the first to fall and submit to the empire during the Hegemony War.
"But is that enough for you? Will you let it end with a lifetime of hatred? Do you intend to vanish into the back alleys of history without ever displaying the martial prowess you have honed, without showing the loyalty you hold for your country?"
At some point, everyone in the room was staring at Lyla as if entranced. Their eyes were stolen by her every word, every gesture.
"Southern Army. The same goes for you. Is this truly acceptable? Being scorned as the weakest, mocked even while faithfully carrying out your duties, and envying the other legions—have you not grown tired of it?"
Her words, fierce yet gentle, scolding yet comforting, like flame and like water, carried two opposing natures that made them forget even to breathe.
"If you desire a legitimate opportunity to swing your swords at the empire, the right to proudly declare that you have claimed imperial land, proof that you are not mere rabble, and the pride of having defeated the strongest—"
"—Then offer your swords to me, Lyla Everblaze Barhart."
Later, one knight would recall that moment like this:
"There was not a single person who raised an objection."
"There was not a single person who spoke of being outnumbered."
"Not one among them even considered the possibility of defeat."