We're Veterans
When you thought about it, Lulua had always been like that. She was as quiet as Tiel, yet it didn’t seem to come from her true nature. It felt more like she was deliberately keeping her distance from everyone else, always lingering in the background like a shadow. Those perpetually hollow eyes gave her a gloomy air that weighed on anyone who looked at her. The only time this girl had ever taken the initiative was right after the previous professor left, when she simply slept through class and didn’t show up. After my uncle arrived and restored order to the classroom, she simply sat in the same seat every day. Note-taking, shorthand, scribbling… If the days kept repeating like that, it would have been strange for Sion not to notice.
Or rather, it might have only been a matter of time. If the truth turned out to be something utterly ordinary, Sion would feel sorry for suspecting her. But to Sion, who had always stood at the center of every rumor, that watchful gaze could only be interpreted in the worst possible way.
‘Where do you think you’re slipping out of my sight? It’s not like I’ve only seen this kind of person once or twice.’
If it had been anyone else, she might have let it slide. But Sion was far from a fool. She had seen plenty of people at balls pretending to chat while gathering intelligence, and plenty of idiots circling the ducal residence, sniffing around for any scrap of information. As the duke’s daughter—even a rotten one—she had tripped over them so often that seeing the forest instead of the trees was hardly difficult.
So.
After a day steeped in confusion, Sion followed Lulua. In truth, she had already drawn her conclusion. She didn’t know the details, but she was certain Lulua was recording the contents of the Forget-Me-Not Class—whether to smuggle the notes out or to stare at them with perverse fascination.
Yet just as Sion had noticed, Lulua—who had taken assassin classes—possessed a skill of her own. She was exceptionally good at reading the presence of others.
Somehow, the path Sion sensed wasn’t the ordinary route back to the dormitory after classes. It seemed to be drifting toward a dark, secluded place. That was when it happened.
“…Huh?”
Suddenly, Lulua vanished from sight with a sharp twist.
And then—
Hoo—.
She appeared behind Sion and blew a gentle breath against her neck.
“Hiek?!”
“Hello.”
“…What the—what are you doing? Appearing behind someone like that. You were right in front of me just a second ago. How did you do that?”
“Well. You kept following me, so I wondered if something was the matter.”
In reality, it was refraction magic that Lulua could use to hide her position and instantly swap locations. But she had no intention of explaining that, so she casually brushed it off.
“If you have business with me, please speak. This Lulua will assist you with all sincerity.”
Of course, Sion scoffed at that subtle display of composure. She was the one doing the pressing, yet here Lulua was acting relaxed.
‘Hmph. With that tiny body like a dwarf, one good swing of a bat would plant her in the ground like a mole. Who does she think she’s helping?’
As expected, this girl was suspicious. How could an ordinary girl pull off something like this?
With that thought, Sion locked the latch on her heart and spoke.
“…There is something going on. Lulua.”
“I hope it isn’t anything too serious.”
“It’s not that big a deal. I simply followed you because I wanted to ask a question.”
“The noble daughter of the Lagrange family, asking someone like me?”
“Yes.”
“Oh dear.”
Playing innocent. Sion covered her mouth with her fan and glared at her.
“I’ll ask you directly. Are you in a position to report something to someone?”
This little mole didn’t seem inclined to answer easily. She simply adjusted her glasses with a calm expression and said,
“What do you mean….”
“Just as I thought. Of course, I never expected you to answer honestly.”
“…I’ve unintentionally disappointed you. But I truly don’t understand what you’re talking about.”
Still, Sion wasn’t about to let it go. She simply held out her hand and demanded.
“Disappointment aside—if you’re so confident, show me your notebook.”
“Eek.”
“─Did you think I wouldn’t notice? Logically speaking, when the Saintess is in such a shameful state, the correct thing is to step in and resolve the situation. Scribbling away in a notebook from the back doesn’t make any sense, does it?”
“That’s strange. But Lady Lagrange didn’t do anything either, did you?”
“No. I’m different. The reason I didn’t act is because there was no value in getting involved. And unlike you, I really did absolutely nothing.”
“I see.”
At those words, Lulua let out a deep, invisible sigh. In truth, she had also seen no value in intervening, but as a commoner on the surface, she wasn’t in a position to make value judgments about the Saintess. She couldn’t throw those words back.
Rip—.
With no other choice, she unzipped the small backpack she carried every day and reached for her notebook. As she did, she eased her tension a little and thought,
‘Just do as I was doing… After that written exchange, I’ve been following Professor Joseph’s instructions. It seems Lady Lagrange doesn’t know anything about me at all. The professor really did protect me.’
Back then in the cafeteria, while eating curry, she had let slip that monitoring Lagrange was her primary duty. Honestly, she hadn’t known how she should behave afterward. It had been an act of considerable trust in Professor Joseph, but later she regretted it deeply. Why? It was simple.
As everyone at the academy knew, the fierce white tiger of a girl before her was very close to Sir Joseph. They were uncle and niece, after all. Lulua knew because she had been watching. Publicly they used “professor,” but in private she called him “uncle” without hesitation.
And arms always bend inward. No matter how much she trusted the professor and revealed her true mission, every single letter of her reports could threaten Sion’s position. In the end, wouldn’t the professor choose Sion? Had she ruined everything by panicking from the start—?
She believed him, but it still felt like a mistake. It made her uneasy.
That was the mindset Lulua had carried. So when Sion approached her like this, it actually helped her regain some composure. The promise the professor had made back then was undoubtedly unconditional trust directed at her.
So Lulua straightened her neck without the slightest hint of intimidation. She had the professor. She might seem like his favorite doll, but the trust was real. Do as you were doing. She would keep that promise. From beginning to end, like a crow.
─But, like Joseph’s disciple, if there was anything that shouldn’t be known, she would shorten it just a little….
Thud—.
“Here is my notebook. I don’t know what you think you saw, but please check it.”
“Good. Let’s see…”
Yet as Sion took the notebook and flipped through the pages with confidence, she soon realized every page contained nothing but genuine class notes. She tilted her head.
This wasn’t it.
“It’s definitely the same notebook. There’s nothing here.”
“Because I really was taking notes at the time. My mind was completely empty.”
“Hmm.”
“Has the misunderstanding been resolved?”
No. It had not. Maintaining the dignity of a duke’s daughter, Sion glanced past the still-open backpack and caught sight of something else. A spare notebook. A switch.
“It seems I’ve fallen into a pit of suspicion and look pathetic for it, but did you prepare a backup in advance for a situation like this? Well, using several notebooks of the same design is perfectly possible. For example, that identical notebook inside your bag.”
“Ah… ah……”
“How sloppy. Did you think I wouldn’t notice? If it’s all right with you, show me that one too. …If you don’t want to, you don’t have to. I’ll make my own judgment.”
“…This one is a bit embarrassing. But if you really want to see it.”
Looking slightly bashful, Lulua surprisingly handed it over without much resistance. Sion couldn’t hide her confusion.
Flip—.
What she saw when she opened it was…
“Oh my.”
“…Hehe.”
“What is this? You drew these pictures so well with just a pencil.”
It was the scene of the Forget-Me-Not Class from Lulua’s perspective. Interspersed were sketches of the students’ faces. Moreover, they could hardly be called mere doodles. These were drawings of exceptional quality.
“…What is this? Why did you draw my professor so well?”
Daring to recognize what’s mine?
“Well, Lady Lagrange would know better than anyone, but Sir Joseph is quite a distinctive handsome man, isn’t he? The feeling came out nicely, so I couldn’t stop my pen.”
“You have better aesthetic sense than you appear. …Tsk. It makes me look like the fool for suspecting you. You have uselessly good skills.”
“Shall I take that as a compliment?”
“If you didn’t mean it sarcastically toward me, it would be an honor.”
Normally, Sion would have pressed further. Had she done so, she might have noticed the real notebook hidden beneath Lulua’s skirt, pressed against her stomach. But after pushing so hard already, saying anything more felt awkward. And more than that, her gaze had been captured by the portrait of her uncle, where even the fine veins were vividly depicted. Sion no longer had the energy to interrogate her.
Lulua had read that fact as well. She secretly rejoiced at having successfully deflected Sion’s suspicion and showed a touch of friendliness.
“You seem to like it quite a bit. If you want, I can give it to you.”
“…Are you usually this brazen? You never speak, so how was I supposed to know?”
“I’m not sure. I’m just a commoner, so speaking to esteemed people so far above me has always felt burdensome.”
“You don’t need to act that way. According to the academy’s first rule, we’re classmates treated as equals now.”
“As expected of a strict adherent to principles. Though that rule is largely a dead letter, isn’t it?”
“…Whatever.”
In any case, Sion had followed Lulua with every kind of resolve. Being sent away empty-handed was exhausting in its own right.
“Are you really giving this to me?”
“I can always draw another.”
“Then I’ll take it. May I tear it out?”
“You can tear it five times if you like.”
“Hmm.”
Still, retreating now felt like a loss. So Sion tore out the drawing as Lulua suggested. This was absolutely—not because she wanted a picture of her uncle. Absolutely not because she wanted the portrait of her uncle with his prickly, uncut beard and burly, muscular frame. It was simply… recovering spoils of war.
“Let’s leave it at that for today. But don’t misunderstand. My suspicions aren’t completely gone, so I will remain on guard.”
“Please do. If you have more questions next time, you don’t need to follow me. Just call for me. Or shall I approach you first?”
“Hmph. Do as you please.”
“……”
Still, the entire process had not been entirely meaningless. For Sion, it held meaning in discovering a suspicious individual she could point to the moment something went wrong. For Lulua, it was a reconfirmation that the professor would offer perfect protection as long as she acted properly.
“By the way, Lulua, where are we?”
“I’m not sure either?”
“Stop lying and escort me back to the dormitory. I hate places like this.”
“Then shall we go together?”
The funny thing was that even after all that mutual scheming, they walked back almost hand in hand, sticking close together. It felt rather ridiculous. Yet even if Lulua’s mission had been exposed, the result would likely have been the same. The relationship dynamics within the Forget-Me-Not Class—excluding Usteria—were improving more than expected.
Meanwhile, in the Ainhart Margraviate. Beneath the heavenly city known as the Iron Fortress, inside a shabby tavern that showed not the slightest trace of management—
Several dozen knights were drinking together. Their equipment no longer gleamed; at first glance they looked like a bandit troupe. But the imperial dog tags still hanging around their necks had not been broken, so their origin was easy to guess. They were former imperial soldiers. Now that the war had ended, they were warriors who had lost their homes and their battles. Having obeyed the fate that forced them to become soldiers, they now had nothing left to do. They survived day by day on the meager goodwill of an employer who barely existed… an honorable knight order.
“—Fuck.”
They huddled together and cursed in one voice. Because it really was fucking awful.
“They told us to fight like dogs. Now that the war’s over, everyone’s acting like they don’t know us.”
“Goddammit. Does it make sense that even our last financier is abandoning us? And it’s a financially rock-solid firm like the Rothschild Trading Company— They’re saying they won’t even use us as escorts anymore?”
“No matter how peaceful the world has become, there are still bandits. Does Rothschild have no sense of fear?”
“We did our best. To keep what few employers we had left from disappearing, we honestly protected the wagons and fought with everything we had.”
“Why are we always the ones abandoned in the end?”
The moment that question left someone’s lips, another slammed his hand on the table.
“It’s because that Inspection Bureau was created. That’s why.”
“…You mean the thing His Majesty the Emperor newly established? What does that have to do with us?”
“From what I hear, the Inspection Bureau is a group hunting down the Demon King’s remnants. Its influence is so enormous that any organization with its own military is staying out of sight on purpose.”
“…What are you saying?”
“—We’re a long-term contracted knight order. In effect, we were Rothschild’s private army. If a mere upstart house gets on the Inspection Bureau’s bad side, it becomes complicated. So they’re releasing cheap private soldiers like us who came from the imperial army and hiring a proper imperial knight order instead.”
“Fuck. Does that make any sense? We’re veterans. We crossed countless lines of death on His Majesty’s orders. Comparing us to those greenhorn bastards—”
“How dare they even put us in the same category?”
The atmosphere inside the tavern shifted. It might have looked like an ordinary drinking house, but the air inside was a giant bomb packed with flammable material. It felt more like a prison for political criminals.
“The old days were better. When we fought under Sir Laval.”
“But now… we… us—”
“…No one looks after us anymore.”
And.
Even if none of the veterans said it aloud, the moment those words surfaced, someone muttered softly.
“Everything…”
Softly. Above all, softly. But the weight behind it was solid.
“Wouldn’t it be fine to just destroy it all?”
A disaster was looming. The neglect of those who had rendered distinguished service to the nation was not limited to Joseph alone.