Ashel Gronhilt (2)
Training was over, and the rest of the day was hers to spend as she pleased—but Ashel had barely washed the sweat from her skin and changed clothes before she found herself following someone elsewhere. Walking in Kaylen's wake, she sank into thought.
So that man was the Seventh Lord.
The man who had been watching her with that peculiar gaze during training. She knew the rumors had been swirling through the castle of late—talk of the newly ascended Seventh Lord. Ashel herself had only recently ended her long wandering and become a knight of the Grand Lord Castle; she still knew little of Calderic. But seeing Vice Commander Kamson—a man so vicious toward his own subordinates—go rigid with terror like that had given her at least some sense of what a Lord's stature truly meant.
She couldn't begin to guess why such a person would summon her for a conversation. A faint unease stirred in a corner of her heart. Had he noticed something?
"Please keep firmly in mind that the one you are about to meet is the new master of the Seventh Lord's seat. I ask that you take the utmost care with your words and conduct."
"..."
After Kaylen's final warning, they followed a long corridor into a spacious room. He was already seated inside.
The door clicked shut.
Alone now, facing the Seventh Lord, Ashel offered a formal greeting.
"It is an honor to meet you, Seventh Lord. I am Ashel, an apprentice knight of the Fifth Division of the White Scale Knights."
Gleaming golden eyes stared straight at her.
"Sit."
The Seventh Lord gestured toward the seat opposite him. Ashel sat, feeling awkward and uncomfortable.
Silence settled over the room. The Seventh Lord said nothing, merely savoring his tea, while Ashel—with nowhere else to rest her gaze—stared down at her cup. Before long, an unexpected remark broke the quiet.
"Are you hiding your strength?"
"..."
"I can't understand why someone of your caliber would remain an apprentice knight. I'm curious as to why you're concealing your power."
A considerable shock ran through her, and two questions rose at once in Ashel's mind. How had he known? And why was he asking? If he had noticed it from the moment he'd been watching her train, that was truly astonishing. From that distance, what could he possibly have perceived? Mana? Or some other discrepancy?
"...I don't know what you mean, my lord."
Denial, for now. Ashel calmed the turmoil in her heart and watched his reaction. His expression didn't change in the slightest as he continued.
"If you intend to deny it, I'll get straight to the point."
The point? Even then, she still hadn't realized. That everything he'd said so far hadn't been the important issue at all.
...Her heart plummeted.
"I had heard they were completely annihilated. To think a survivor remained. What brought you to the Grand Lord Castle?"
For an instant, Ashel's mind went white. She couldn't speak.
How...?
She could somehow accept that he'd seen through her hidden strength. But how had he known she was of the White Moon Clan? That was her deepest secret—something no one knew, something no one must ever know. The hostility she leveled at the being sitting before her, who had so casually laid that secret bare, was reflexive, unconscious.
"Don't bother with those pointless thoughts. You don't have the strength."
The indifferent voice at her ear snapped Ashel back to her senses. The Seventh Lord's gaze was infinitely deep and still. Overwhelmed by that quiet pressure, she slowly withdrew her hostility.
"..."
Yes... it was impossible. The being seated before her was a Lord of Calderic. A peak-level powerhouse even by the standards of the entire continent—a being said to be stronger than even those monstrous Five Stars of Seintea. The mere fact that he'd seen through her concealed power in an instant told her the gulf between them was vast beyond measure. Whether she tried an ambush or an escape, it would be futile. That much was obvious.
Feeling the helplessness of it, Ashel bit down hard on her lip. The taste of blood filled her mouth. She had come this far by trampling over despair and emptiness, searching for some path forward—and this was what she got before she could even try anything?
"What is it you want from me?"
She forced the words out, trembling with bitter frustration. The Seventh Lord wore a peculiar expression.
"You seem to be under some misunderstanding. I have no intention of threatening you."
"..."
"Why are you so afraid of having your identity exposed? This is Calderic, not Seintea. In a land without racial hierarchy, what difference would being of the White Moon Clan make?"
At those words, Ashel clenched her teeth. Anyone could say such things easily. No one who hadn't lived it would ever understand. The grief of losing clan and homeland alike. The loneliness and anxiety of being thrown into the world as the sole survivor. The pressure that she had to do something—anything.
This was Calderic, not Seintea. A land of power and opportunity, where anyone with ability could seize glory commensurate with their worth. Intellectually, rationally, Ashel knew this. But the wariness branded deep into her heart from the day her clan was destroyed had made it impossible for her to trust anything easily.
And yet, what would someone like you even know...
"But I understand."
Ashel flinched.
"I can understand. The bitter grudge and the grief you carry in the depths of your heart. The anxiety and the solitude. That excessive wariness you show me now—it all stems from there, doesn't it?"
...What was this man even saying?
Ashel looked at the Seventh Lord with a slightly dazed expression. His mouth opened again.
In the world of RASA, many races exist. Setting demons aside, they range from the most numerous and powerful—humans, elves, and beastkin—to the many lesser and rare races besides. The White Moon Clan was a rare race with an extremely small population. In appearance they were indistinguishable from humans, but they possessed a racial trait that allowed them to convert mana into a quality uniquely their own.
Races of weak standing often lived in tribal units in the wilds rather than mixing with the rest of society. The White Moon Clan, too, had made their home in the Alten Mountain Range in the far west of Seintea, living in peace. But their downfall came suddenly. Just a few years ago from the present, the White Moon Clan was completely annihilated by Seintea for reasons unknown, leaving only a single survivor. The Ashel sitting before me now was that sole survivor.
She'd wandered for a long time searching for other surviving kin, hadn't she.
But Ashel never found them. Even after years of searching, traveling the continent and taking every risk, she found not a single one. At the end of that long wandering, the place she settled was here—Calderic. Because she still couldn't abandon that last thread of hope. That somewhere, other surviving kin of hers must still exist.
Calderic was a land that valued ability above all else. If she could prove her worth here and establish herself—if she could spread her name across the continent as a warrior of the White Moon Clan—perhaps surviving kin would hear of it and come find her. And even if they never came, she might at least accumulate enough power and influence to seize a chance at revenge against Seintea.
...That was why Ashel had come all the way to Calderic. The reason she was hiding her power and identity as an apprentice knight was that she had only recently arrived and was still carefully reading the atmosphere. The White Moon Clan were indistinguishable from humans in daily life, but when they unleashed their true power through their racial trait, their entire skin turned white. In the near future, she would fully reveal herself and become a member of the Grand Lord Castle's Black Scale. But...
"I will help you."
For now, I would pull her to my side before that happened. I continued.
"I have a rough idea of why you came to Calderic."
"..."
"To spread your name so that surviving kin would come find you, or to take revenge on Seintea, or both... judging by your expression, I seem to have hit the mark."
Ashel's face was now steeped in shock. A natural reaction, given that her innermost thoughts had been completely seen through. It was time to get to the real purpose of this conversation.
"If that's your goal, then I propose you become my escort knight."
Ashel looked momentarily stunned. She must have been wondering what this sudden nonsense was.
"What do you mean..."
"I am going to do a great many things from now on. So become my escort and stay by my side. As the sword of Calderic's Seventh Lord, as my closest aide, and as a warrior of the White Moon Clan—it would be an excellent opportunity to spread your name across the continent."
"...!"
"Don't you think borrowing my name would be far more effective in achieving your goals than relying on your own strength alone?"
It was a perfect pretext. My proposal would be an extremely effective way to achieve her goal of spreading her name as widely as possible across the continent. Ashel blinked wordlessly. Then, with a face that said she couldn't understand—wariness settling over her features once more—she asked me.
"...Why?"
Yes, of course she would ask that. It was the reaction I'd expected. To her, my proposal would feel like unsolicited, one-sided goodwill. She would assume a being of a Lord's stature wasn't doing this because he actually needed an escort. Of course, I genuinely did need an escort—I needed her combat power—but I couldn't say that truthfully.
"There's no particular reason."
I spoke dryly.
"If I had to say, it's what I already mentioned. Because I understand your situation. And because I happened to notice your ability. That's all—it simply drew my interest."
"..."
Ashel still looked unconvinced. As expected, such a vague answer wasn't going to satisfy her.
A proper reason. I'd spent a full hour before this conversation trying to come up with one, but I hadn't found a suitable excuse. I'd considered the typical scenario of having some connection to her clan, the White Moon Clan... but it didn't feel right. What connection could I, a human, possibly have with a small race that had been living among themselves deep in the mountains? And even if I cobbled together some story, a clumsy lie carried a high risk of being exposed, now or later. I didn't know that much about the White Moon Clan to begin with.
So the conclusion I'd reached was to just fudge it, even if I couldn't earn her trust. For now, it was enough if I could get Ashel to accept my proposal somehow. Trying to earn someone's trust after laying bare all their circumstances and secrets from the very first meeting was arrogance anyway. I could build a friendly relationship with her slowly after I'd brought her on as my escort.
"It seems that wasn't an answer. But does the reason even matter?"
I emphasized the core point once more.
"I want you to become my escort knight, and you would thereby gain an opportunity to achieve your goals more easily. That's all there is to it."
Whatever the reason, my proposal was an incomparably good opportunity for Ashel. There was no way she currently had a better option than this—one that would let her borrow the prestige of a Lord, no less.
Ashel's brow furrowed. She looked to be thinking deeply. Any more words would be superfluous, so I quietly sipped my tea and waited for her answer. After a long silence, she spoke.
"If you wished to take me as a subordinate, you could simply do so. Why make this proposal and ask for my acceptance?"
It was a question of why a Lord, who could take an apprentice knight as he pleased, wasn't simply doing so.
"Because I respect your will. As I said, I am not threatening you with your secret. If you have a better plan of your own, you may refuse."
I said this, but honestly, a refusal would be inconvenient. I had deliberately slipped in the words "secret" and "better plan" with a slight intent to pressure her.
"...One last question. How did you know I was of the White Moon Clan?"
"It's part of my ability."
I dismissed the question concisely. In a world of magic, Mysteries, and all manner of abilities, a vague deflection was enough. Ashel looked at me with slightly dissatisfied eyes, then spoke as if she had finally made up her mind.
"I will accept your proposal. I will become the Seventh Lord's escort knight."
...Yes!
Inwardly, I smiled in complete satisfaction.
"Your name was Ashel, was it? Do you have a surname?"
"...Gronhilt."
Ashel hesitated a moment, then spoke her full name.
"Ashel Gronhilt."
Ashel Gronhilt. The sole survivor of the White Moon Clan. In the game, she had played the role of a powerful ally to the player—a force for good. And a person with the potential to become as strong as the Lords themselves. She wouldn't fully trust me yet and would remain wary, but we'd be together from now on, so there would be plenty of time to build trust.
In any case, I now had a reliable escort. It was about time to head for the Seventh Lord's territory.