Pitiful Souls (1)
Vincent attempted to eliminate the guard who had witnessed him as swiftly as possible and flee from Sigmund. For that purpose, he unleashed the most readily available spell at his disposal: Meteor Strike. Yet without the elaborate incantation and preparation required, its power was perhaps only a tenth of its usual output. Even so, Vincent merely gathered star droplets in his hand and flicked them with his fingers.
BOOM! The entrance gate was obliterated. The very gate that had never once fallen since Sigmund’s founding—the gate that had stood unchanged for centuries because there had never been any reason for it to fall—vanished without a trace at his mere whim.
It seemed only Vincent remained unscathed by the aftermath.
“…Blowing up the entrance gate. How crude. At this rate, the idea of slipping in unnoticed has become meaningless.”
……
…….
However.
Ziiing—.
“Oh my. You… wield quite an intriguing power, don’t you—?”
“…What? There was a surviving insect?”
“I’ll admit it honestly. That was difficult to block….”
Before Vincent, who sought to make a leisurely escape, stood a figure with light-green hair fluttering in the wind, both hands spread wide with defensive magic circles that had intercepted the meteor he flicked.
“………If I were not an Archmage, I would have died.”
It was none other than Gremory Aregore, the youngest Archmage and the most skilled among all students currently present in Sigmund.
Gremory had just blocked the falling star. Behind her stood the checkpoint guard who had been moments from death while faithfully performing his duty.
“Damn it, I thought I was finished…! Thank you, Lady Gremory.”
Well, even the most upright person could not help but fear death. Yet that was only natural, and no one who witnessed the scene would blame the guard.
Since he was safe, Gremory forced a slight smile in an attempt to maintain her composure. The reason she had been able to cast a protective barrier over the guard was simple.
“The sky is high, so it was fortunate I took a stroll on my broom. That fellow tried to conceal his presence, but he was visible even from afar. A demon of that caliber could never escape my eyes.”
“…Understood. Then please step aside now, Lady Gremory.”
“I cannot! I have a duty to stop that creature for everyone’s sake. If you tell me to run, what will you do?”
And at that moment, the academy—previously shrouded only in night—lit up as searchlights activated in sequence, brighter than anything else.
Flash, flash, flash—.
Actual situation. Emergency situation occurred, emergency situation occurred. Suspicious individual spotted near the checkpoint.
“…Well, I intend to keep running until the security forces I summoned arrive.”
“So fast! How…?”
“There is always a way. Therefore, you need not remain here either, miss.”
But Vincent had no desire to entertain such chatter.
“…How noisy. If you had simply let me pass quietly, everything would have ended peacefully for both sides. Why must we shed blood like this?”
“How would I know what you intend to do if I let you in? I do not even know what you are, and I have no wish to converse with you. Now, prepare yourself—.”
With that, Gremory shifted her objective from allowing the guard’s escape to buying time until the security forces arrived. She deployed a splendid magic circle, intending to raze the ground where Vincent stood.
However.
“—Daughter of Aregore. Do not act presumptuously. Did you think I would not know of the curse upon your heart?”
“…How do you know that?!”
The instant Vincent spoke, Gremory’s combat stance crumbled. Many knew of her, yet almost none knew of the bloodline “curse” resting within her heart. Thus, her mind could only fill with confusion.
Seeing her reaction, Vincent let out a dry laugh and shook his head.
“How do I know? The Aregore family owes me a debt from hundreds of years ago. So it is not strange, is it?”
“………Who are you?”
“Ask your questions to someone worthy of being questioned, you damn cow of a woman. I have no desire to waste any more time here, so die quietly.”
Pababak—!!
And at that moment, an arrow flew toward Gremory’s heart with the trajectory of a beast’s shot… embedding itself so swiftly it was invisible and with tremendous force. Though he held no bow, Vincent possessed the ability to manifest one in midair. He must have utilized that power.
“Kh, ruk—.”
Srrrk—.
The sensation of something piercing her chest prompted her to immediately extract her soul from her body and cast Great Recovery; otherwise, the wound would have caused instant death by shock. Yet by the time Gremory regained her composure, Vincent’s figure had already vanished—along with the sight of a meteor falling from the sky.
“………Kh. What in the world was that—.”
However, there was presently no way for Gremory alone to uncover his existence. Had she not preserved the scene with memory magic—as was her habit of thorough preparation—Vincent’s visit to Sigmund might have remained buried solely in the memories of the guard and herself.
***
Meanwhile, turning the clock back to Fralbert.
In response to His Majesty the King’s summons, I hurried toward the audience chamber with Hawk at my side.
‘Somehow, it feels as though I am only ever summoned to the audience chamber….’
Yet, as I had thought, the suddenness of it all was incomprehensible. During the conversation with Lord Rexas that night, he had spoken as though he would never see me again. Was this whim of calling for me now even possible?
That question, however, was answered the moment I opened the door to the audience chamber.
The throne where Rexas should have sat with dignified bearing was empty.
“……?”
“Your Highness, have we come at the wrong time?”
“No, it does not appear so. Look properly to the side.”
And instead…
Beside the throne stood a boy fidgeting awkwardly. A frail youth with thin features, somewhat resembling Lady Karalin.
Abel von Vitagarte.
While I stood momentarily flustered, a bureaucrat from the Ministry of Internal Affairs who had been waiting quietly nearby leaned in and whispered.
“…Your Highness. I only just learned of this myself, but His Majesty the King has declared a period of rest and remains shut away in his chambers all day without emerging.”
“………Is that so?!”
“Even when requested to attend to urgent state affairs, he merely replies, ‘There is a capable prince, so tell that fellow to handle the state affairs.’ There is no other way to interpret it.”
“…Understood. I shall handle this myself.”
“Thank you for your consideration, Your Highness.”
Upon hearing those words, I immediately grasped the situation.
In short, this was a regency.
‘…Why? Did my implicit declaration of taking his daughter truly shatter his mentality?’
Yet since that could not possibly be the case, I set the thought aside and, with an empty mind, simply offered my respects to the small boy, Abel, who now occupied the position that should have belonged to the lady.
It was not a pleasant feeling, but I had already accepted for some time that he was the heir.
“R-Raise your head.”
And, surprisingly, Abel seemed to have practiced extensively; he accepted my greeting with perfect composure.
‘Good. It would have been pointless otherwise.’
Soon Abel clumsily read through the report documents on the table and asked me in a timid voice.
“The Steel Knight and the one called Hawk… captured the subordinate of the 6 Swords, Grespara… is that correct….”
“Yes. Their whereabouts were confirmed in Mihelrn, a village near Fralbert. Casualties include half the village population dead, with most facilities collapsed….”
To him, I merely reported the facts in the same detached manner I always used with Lord Rexas.
“Together with my collaborator Hawk, we cornered Grespara and captured her alive rather than executing her. Considering the number of casualties, summary execution on the battlefield was considered, but upon review we judged her interrogation value to be high, so—”
However, Abel sharply cut off my unwavering report, as if deliberately.
“…Good! It matches exactly what I read…!”
“…Yes, it does.”
And naturally, such an awkward display could only be interpreted one way.
‘…He wants to assert who holds authority, doesn’t he?’
This situation was not merely listening to a report of achievements in his father’s stead. It was a stage upon which he could display abilities that had been completely overshadowed by his parents—and even his sister—never allowed to shine.
Otherwise, it made no sense that someone so indecisive and pathetic before his father could change so drastically.
Abel spoke to me.
“Both of you have performed a great service…! Preventing the northern calamity once more is the greatest blessing. I shall personally report this and bestow a grand reward upon Hawk in my father’s name. And for the respected—no, the magnificent Steel Knight….”
‘Respected…?’
I thought I had heard a strange word that would never come from a ruler’s mouth.
“…W-What do you desire! Speak it. As long as it is within my power, I shall prepare it somehow.”
Anyway, to this barrage of questions I simply shook my head.
“…Your Highness. I am satisfied with my current position. I desire nothing.”
“I-Is that true. How loyal.”
Abel either truly did not know I would make no demands, or he believed without doubt that things would change if the heir of the North spoke. With an extremely anxious expression, he continued.
“Even so… there must be at least one thing, surely? As a warrior who leads troops, you must want weapons, equipment… or financial support…!”
“No. If needed, I will prepare it myself. What I desire is clear. The peace of the North. And the opportunity to protect her.”
However, I firmly cut off that sentiment.
“Since both have already been fulfilled, I said I desire nothing.”
“……….”
As I spoke, his expression gradually twisted into something grotesque, as though he might burst into tears or rage at any moment….
It could only be explained as his prepared cards—his means of persuasion—failing to work.
‘…This man, perhaps.’
Thus, I sensed it.
‘Is he trying to win me over? Since Rexas is past his prime, he wants me to side with him?’
….
Yet to attempt it directly with me.
‘Why is he so clumsy?’
If change were possible, it should have happened years ago—much like those foolish opportunists who flipped sides like a coin the moment the lady was removed from succession.
There had certainly been a change of heart, but regret had come too late. No matter what this fellow said now, my stance would remain: “No. I will not change. Go back.”
“………Yohan.”
Then, Abel spoke to me in a voice brimming with tears.