Long-Term Assignment (5)
Aldred felt a flicker of surprise, but it quickly turned into a hollow laugh.
"You said you'd resolve it in three days?"
"Yes."
"Why? By rounding up the villagers in one place and slaughtering the demons?"
The Windsor Knights. Experts in demon hunting who tolerated no followers of Tae. But Aldred knew all too well the hidden meaning behind that: by any means necessary. He'd experienced it firsthand, down to his bones.
"Do you think my knights staked their lives on this just for that?"
"I don't know what you're getting at."
"I'm asking if you really think people will just accept their families being killed for no reason other than being demons, without any explanation."
"If we get emotional about it, there's no end to the problems. Cut it out now, or it'll spread."
Aldred swept a hand over his face as he gazed at Sisilia, who genuinely seemed unable to comprehend. "You have no heart for people."
Frustrated, Aldred lit another cigarette. "You seem to think you're perfectly suited for this mission. Well... you're the last person in the world who should be taking it on."
"If you're not going to cooperate, that'll be a problem."
"No cooperation. Stand by until full-scale combat breaks out. No other actions permitted."
"I object. This type of demon won't show itself until the town is completely overrun. By then, it'll be too late."
"Just one question, Sisilia Windsor."
Aldred's voice grew icy. "Do you think killing the demons who've infiltrated will end it all?"
"......"
Sisilia clamped her mouth shut. Aldred turned his back entirely, gazing out the window as he smoked. A long while passed before her reply came.
"Understood."
The soft rustle of clothing brushing together. Probably a salute. And without hesitation, Sisilia left the room.
'Orders, my ass.' Even her graceful retreat was just proof she hadn't grasped the situation. If she hadn't accepted it, she'd have marched straight to the village and started a massacre with sword in hand. That was the Windsor way—mission above all.
"Goddamn Windsors."
Border Count Aldred Gartan stubbed out his cigarette roughly.
**
"Lady Sisilia... are you sure you're okay?"
Nom nom. Sisilia was happily forking bites of tonkatsu into her mouth.
A delicious apple pie sat before Beatrice, but she fidgeted restlessly. Kicked out by Aldred's eviction order, Sisilia had shown no worry or concern—just a casual "Let's eat first" as she found the nearest inn.
"The count issued a stand-by order."
"I know, but..."
"You don't become a border count without real ability. It's the one title in this kingdom that can't be inherited."
Sisilia focused intently, sawing away at her knife. This pseudo-tonkatsu hadn't even had the tough membrane removed, making it a real chore to cut.
"The count must have his own plan. Shame he won't share it, but nothing we can do."
'She's hopeless with meals.' Beatrice swallowed hard. She could slice a demon's throat clean, but butchered tonkatsu like a disaster.
"...So we just wait?"
"Waiting for the enemy to move first is the worst option, but it doesn't matter. In this mission, it might actually be the better choice."
'Man, why won't this cut?' Sisilia was at war with her tonkatsu. Was she lacking strength? But pushing harder might shatter the plate.
Unable to watch, Beatrice spoke up. "Um... here, let me cut it for you."
Sisilia looked up like a startled rabbit. She glanced around shyly, then timidly slid her plate over.
Beatrice sliced it into perfect, bite-sized pieces with practiced ease. Sisilia's eyes sparkled. The makings of an excellent adjutant.
"Thank you."
Now Sisilia ate comfortably. Her blissed-out expression left Beatrice momentarily dazed before she snapped back.
"Still, will real combat even happen like this...?"
"It will."
Even in a modern world where science had advanced to its limits, infantry on two legs ultimately conquered territory. Demons were no different. No matter how they flew or schemed, they'd have to lead monsters to breach this castle in the end.
'If the border count isn't an idiot, he won't let the demons multiply further.'
"If the demons can't grow their numbers anymore, invasion is their only option."
"Ah... I hadn't thought of that. You're right."
But something nagged at her.
'What did the vice-captain do here? And... did I miss something?'
Anything involving Edward could wait until the mission ended. He wouldn't tell her now anyway.
What bugged Sisilia was the latter. But rash action didn't sit right. Planting more bad impressions would make things hell. With demons, patience was always best.
Sisilia decided to observe for a while. Train Beatrice, sleep in late like she couldn't in the capital.
'Hm. Not bad.' A faint smile played on her lips as she ate her tonkatsu. Tastier than before.
But trouble always strikes at times like these.
—Son...! Where have you been, coming back now?
"...Demon presence."
"Ah."
'I'm not Conan.' Sisilia rose sluggishly. Beatrice followed with tense eyes.
"You're back alive—thank the gods, you're safe."
A middle-aged man sobbed, clutching a boy of about fourteen. The boy showed no emotion, but his gaze fixed intently on Sisilia—suggesting he felt something.
Sisilia's pupils darkened.
"Do you know how much I've missed you? I prayed so hard just to see you in my dreams. The goddess has finally answered."
The boy's eyes shifted back to the man. A faint smile tugged at his previously blank lips.
"Sorry I'm late, Father."
"Yes...! Don't go anywhere again."
"I'm home."
"Hnggh."
The man pulled the boy's head to his chest, weeping. Onlookers teared up. Some gripped their own children's hands tighter, as if they'd never let go again.
"Th-this is..."
"Now I get it. How it all works."
Demons didn't infiltrate the village by killing people. They impersonated the dead to slip in.
'Not simple doppelgangers.'
The demon's presence was clear. But it was fading bit by bit. Mimicking. Learning fast. Pulling the precious person from the target's memories—the moment they longed for most.
Eventually, even Sisilia wouldn't detect it easily. It'd become indistinguishable from a real, living human.
How utterly...
'Disgusting.'
Shing. Sisilia drew her sword and pushed through the crowd.
"N-no! Stop!"
The weeping man blocked her path.
"Step aside. That's not your son."
"I know that much!"
Resolve burned in him. He'd protect it, even at the cost of his life. The unshakeable conviction of someone who'd lost what mattered once.
"You think you know? The nights I cried in my son's empty room? A parent's pain after losing their child?!"
"Doesn't change that it's a demon. If not now, it'll be even harder to cut out later."
The man flinched at Sisilia's words. He bowed his head. His lips trembled.
"Doesn't matter. You wouldn't get it. How I envied those whose dead returned."
'Tricky.'
Demons had ranks. This was the worst kind—the ones that manipulated emotions. They knew humanity's greatest weakness. Maybe even harder to deal with than the Demon King. Because you had to fight the humans too.
"Fake happiness or not, I don't care. The moment I lost my son, I died anyway. So please... please... just leave it be. I'm begging you."
The man dropped to his knees.
"If you must kill it, kill me first."
Sisilia held her sword steady. Losing someone precious brought immeasurable grief. Even claiming to understand was arrogance; comfort felt presumptuous. They'd hate her to death. Fine. Expected.
But Sisilia couldn't afford that. She knew: sparing the demon out of emotion here would spawn countless more like this man. To prevent further sorrow, she had to sever this one.
"La-Lady Sisilia!"
As she swung, Beatrice blocked her.
"Better stop."
"You'll regret it if you don't kill it now."
"But..."
Beatrice clutched Sisilia's hem, hesitating. Sisilia sighed, about to shake her off—but froze at the next words.
"You look... so tired, Lady Sisilia."
**
"Back sooner than expected."
Count Aldred sipped wine in his office under the hazy moonlight.
"I figured it'd take at least three days. Guess today was 'that day.'"
"...You knew."
"It follows a cycle. Once a week, the dead return to life."
Sisilia emerged from the shadows. She said nothing. But Aldred answered.
"Judged it'd be faster to see for yourself."
"Original plan was to kill the caster, right? They'd recall the domain's demons once the main body was threatened. But that's impossible."
"If it can create minions, it's at least upper-rank."
"That's why you obsessed over a Sword Emperor."
"Yes. With one Sword Emperor, combined with my forces, I thought we could manage."
"Do you know the enemy's location and intel?"
"Priscilla of Deceit. That's what we call her."
Aldred drained his glass and tilted the bottle.
"Cooperate."
"......"
"Sorry for the insult earlier. You're definitely not like the Windsors back then."
He gave a bitter smile. "My judgment rarely fails. But when it does... I'm glad."
Sisilia stared at the floor. Without Beatrice, she'd have killed it. But her intervention led here.
'Owe her one.'
Force would work, but it'd exhaust her. Emotional drain was the greatest foe on long missions. Better options deserved choosing.
"My Extreme Art is domain-type."
Aldred's eyes widened.
"Somehow get me alone with that Deceit bitch. I'll kill her for sure."
This time, Sisilia was fully committed to the mission.