I Made a Mistake
In a village not far from the capital, the 4th Corps had made camp and was, under Reinhardt's orders, indiscriminately requisitioning and slaughtering the village livestock.
"Bring more cattle!"
"This is the last one we have left..."
"I don't care—bring it!"
"Y-yes, sir..."
The meat, butchered in an instant, went straight onto the campfires, and the soldiers of the 4th Corps were enjoying a feast of meat and liquor requisitioned from the village. At the center of it all sat Reinhardt, tearing meat from the bone with his bare hands. Having spent most of his youth on the battlefield, he had long since lost any trace of imperial dignity—no matter how hard one looked.
"Um, Commander..."
"Ah, Village Chief! Thanks for setting this up! Thanks to you, my men are eating and drinking their fill! A toast to the chief who so freely handed over the village's supplies and food!"
"Cheers!!!"
The soldiers raised their cups as one and roared, completely drowning out the chief's voice. Already trembling, the man shrank even further, unable to get a word past his throat.
"Now speak your business!"
"W-well... I heard that this evening there's a banquet at the Imperial Palace to welcome you, Commander..."
"That's correct!"
"It would be terribly presumptuous of me, but... considering the meal at the banquet, perhaps it wouldn't be wise to eat so heavily now..."
"Hoh. Are you giving me advice?"
"N-no, sir! I was merely a little concerned...!"
"You were worried about me. Is that it?"
"...!"
Cold sweat poured endlessly down the chief's spine. Reinhardt frowned for a moment, then smiled as if amused.
"What a loyal subject I've found. Already planning to abandon the Emperor and hitch yourself to me? How admirable—I'm quite moved. Sefirot."
"Yes, Commander."
"Escort the chief to headquarters and have him draw up a contract. One and a half times the usual rate... no. Double should be about right. I won't entertain any objections."
"Y-yes?!"
"Understood, Commander."
"W-wait a moment, Commander! Double is too—!"
Dragged away by soldiers gripping both arms, the chief's desperate voice faded into the distance. The soldiers paid no mind, pouring liquor and gulping down meat as if nothing had happened. These were men who for five straight years had rolled through barren deserts, living more ascetically than monks. They had been promised all the meat and drink they could want once the war ended—and a promise had to be kept. Figuring that no matter how much meat the Imperial Palace had, it would never be enough to fill an entire corps, Reinhardt had decided to stop here and throw a proper feast.
A strong army is a well-fed army.
Unlike my elder sister, who can't rest until she's squeezed every last drop out of her people, I prefer to give my subordinates a longer leash. Capable subordinates produce far better results with reasonable autonomy than under micromanagement. Thanks to this policy of Reinhardt's, the 4th Corps had been able to roam the battlefield at will.
"Commander. The investigation report you requested."
"Hmm."
A bundle of documents was thrust at Reinhardt. He flipped through them roughly, scanning the pages. What on earth had happened in the Empire while he was gone? The report mainly concerned how that scoundrel Aslan Belmont had managed to get so close to his sister. Before long, shock spread across Reinhardt's face.
"What? Aslan Belmont only started moving three months ago...?"
He had wondered how much must have happened during his five-year absence. As it turned out, four years and nine months had been perfectly peaceful—all the chaos had been concentrated in the last three months. Count Belmont's construction of a highway straight to the capital. The public reveal of a necromancer and dark knight under Count Belmont's command. The launch and booming success of a security company owned by Count Belmont. And recently, even signs that he had begun serious research into black magic...
Each one was hard enough to believe on its own—and all of it had been done by a single man, Aslan Belmont? Was this even possible? The shame of House Belmont, the discarded son—could someone like that really change this drastically? This was beyond change. This was becoming a completely different person.
Wait. A completely different person...?
Chin in hand, Reinhardt pondered—and arrived at a plausible hypothesis. It was common knowledge that the people of House Belmont had long ago learned how to summon Evil Gods and form contracts with them. Evil Gods usually only inhabited vessels that could withstand them. But sometimes, greed got the better of them and they shattered the vessel instead. That was the case of those who researched black magic, suffered mental damage from an Evil God, and went mad. Take it one step further, and the mind might not merely be damaged—it could collapse entirely. And if an Evil God simply took over a body whose mind had collapsed and vanished?
The Aslan Belmont of today is being controlled by an Evil God...?
The lazy, violent, dull, and stupid Aslan Belmont was dead. And his body had been completely possessed and was being run however the Evil God pleased. Even as he told himself the idea was absurd, Reinhardt shuddered and trembled with goosebumps.
Right. There's no way a human would take in pure, unspoiled commoner orphans, thoroughly train them to his tastes, and raise them as bride candidates. Only a monster would do that.
If this hypothesis were true, the mortal world was no longer safe. When Evil Gods manifested as avatars, they looked grotesque enough that anyone could tell what they were. But an Evil God wearing a human skin? That was a nightmare.
I thought my sister had finally gone blind. Turns out she knows and is looking the other way.
At last he understood why the Emperor kept Aslan Belmont close. His sister would sense that foul aura better than anyone—and she had chosen to ignore it for the sake of immediate gain. Yes. Of course his sister wouldn't be so easily managed. He had been worried that if a creature like Aslan Belmont was running around unchecked, the Empire he planned to conquer might already be past its prime. Apparently he could set that worry aside. An Evil God standing behind the Empire! Not only his sister, but an Evil God as well—he'd have to bring both down to seize the Empire! At the steadily rising difficulty, Reinhardt felt his heart pound with excitement.
"Wrap it up! It's almost time for the event!"
"Yes, sir!!!"
Reinhardt wiped his mouth and stood abruptly. It was nearly time to march.
"As I recall I've told all of you this already, but I'll say it once more. We are not going to enjoy a banquet. As Her Majesty's secret escort, if the guard is neutralized, we are responsible for ensuring Her Majesty's safety. You all understand the weight of that role, correct?"
"Yes!"
"Of course we do. ...Yo."
In the carriage heading for the Imperial Palace, when I started the final briefing, Charlotte and Yulia answered with confidence, while Yuri, wearing her mask, simply nodded in reply.
In the worst case, we may have to face the entire 4th Corps.
If Reinhardt truly intended to stage a coup, the 4th Corps currently entering the capital to a hero's welcome would flip into a rebel army on the spot. If the crisis hit while the 4th Corps was already inside the Imperial Palace, the palace would be helpless. Now I understood why, in the original novel, the Imperial Palace had been so thoroughly destroyed and set ablaze. No matter how many elite guards protected the palace, they couldn't hold against a full corps pushing with sheer numbers. This was looking like the most serious crisis I had faced yet. Perhaps because of that, the children—usually so noisy—were quiet. Were they scared?
"Mister! So why did you tie Yuri's hair earlier?"
"Ah!? Charlooot! We agreed you wouldn't ask that out loud...!"
"But no matter how hard I think about it, I just don't get it! I can't take the curiosity anymore!"
"..."
...Or so I had thought, before the noise started right back up. Apparently they weren't scared at all. Well, this was far better than pale faces and trembling from fear. They had already been through so much that ordinary tension no longer affected them.
"Why did I tie her hair? Because she came running and the wind left it a complete mess, that's all. Attending an Imperial Palace event with a disheveled escort would just make us a laughingstock."
"That's not what I mean. You could have had a maid do it. The fact that you did it yourself was unexpected. You've never personally tied a knight's hair just because it was messy, have you?"
"...Huh?"
Charlotte puffed her cheeks slightly as she spoke. I was left speechless, realizing my mistake. Thinking about it, if it was just a matter of tying hair, having a maid do it was the rational choice. The other party was merely an employee of my company. For a Count to personally tie it himself was practically advertising, I am extremely interested in this girl.
I made a mistake!
And of all people, Charlotte and Yulia had seen it. Regret flooded me—I should have done it somewhere more private.