The Oppressor
The mastermind behind last night's attack remained elusive. It seemed this was the first time such an assault had occurred, and Ricardo appeared quite shaken. On top of that, his wife and child had nearly been killed, so his fury burned like an active volcano. Ricardo dispatched his knights to hunt down the Black Round Table's backers. It was fortunate, at least, that those scum hadn't targeted Airi, Glacia, or Camellia.
"They dare touch my brother, then go after my wife and child... These bastards must have a death wish. I'll grant it."
Ricardo assigned several trusted subordinates to guard Flora and the children. He also offered to escort me all the way to the imperial palace. Honestly, no matter how many of those vermin showed up, I could kill them instantly.
"Brother, I can go alone... You should stay with your family."
"The men protecting Flora are reliable. Their loyalty is unquestionable, and more importantly, they're strong. Besides..." Ricardo paused, then reached out and ruffled my hair the way he always had since our Dragnity Fantasy 1 days, messing up the hair I'd just fixed. "You're family too, Werner."
I couldn't say a word. The sentiment was touching, but I was too busy trying to smooth down my now-disheveled hair. Werner's hair was the type that turned into a mess with the slightest touch. Maybe it had inherited its owner's temper—poke it once and it threw a fit.
Then the carriage suddenly stopped. A noble-looking bastard was berating a merchant right in front of us.
"What the hell do you mean by putting a sign here?!"
"My lord... this is right in front of my shop, and the inspector gave me permission to place it..."
"So you're saying it's my fault my horse stepped on it and broke it?!"
"No, my lord, that's not..."
Even a blind man could see the noble was in the wrong, yet he was the perfect embodiment of the saying "the one who farts gets angry." These oppressors who trample others with power after making mistakes. Spartacus-sensei never forgave such scum.
I stuck my head out the window and called out to the oppressor.
"Hey, looks like you're the one at fault here. Just pay up and be done with it!"
"What did you just call me? Do you even know who I am, spouting off like that?!"
"If you don't know me, why would I know you?!"
This ill-mannered bastard was clearly acting up because we were riding in a carriage without the Carven family crest. Should I just run him over and turn him into kimchi pancake? A carriage pulled by four horses would be more than enough to flatten him into something the horses could eat. Then again, animals don't like spicy food. Kimchi pancake probably wouldn't be good for their health.
A suitable club happened to be inside the carriage. It was probably left there for emergencies. Today, this club would ascend to become the Noble Phantasm of Spartacus-sensei, the rebel against oppressors.
The moment I grabbed the club, Ricardo—who knew Werner's temper all too well—tried to stop me.
"Werner, we're still on the way to the palace. Causing a scene now would be troublesome."
"But that bastard's asking for it, Brother!"
"I don't get the feeling you'll stop at just a light beating."
He was right. I'd been planning to turn the guy into kimchi pancake with the club instead of the carriage. That was the duty of Spartacus's successor and the kimchi pancake specialist of Unam Pavilion.
"I'll handle it. Just stay put."
The noble who was destined to become kimchi pancake eventually approached our carriage, and Ricardo revealed his face.
"D-Duke Ricardo...?"
"How dare you try to crush the powerless. And the one who just warned you happens to be my brother. The punishment for this will not be light."
"Just this once, if you could forgive..."
"If you want forgiveness that badly, then press your forehead to the ground and stay like that until I return to this street."
The would-be kimchi pancake began his punishment in the so-called "Wonsan bombing" posture. As expected, disgusting things spread quickly— even this idiotic punishment pose had become widespread. Still, any weapon or bad habit could change depending on how it was used. If it was being used to punish an oppressor, maybe even the Wonsan bombing could be called divine justice.
"See? This is how you solve problems."
Honestly, it looked like one oppressor being suppressed by an even bigger oppressor, but if it was just, then it was fine by me.
Before we knew it, we had arrived right in front of the Emperor's audience chamber. Ricardo's voice, which had been warm moments ago, turned cold and rigid.
"Your Majesty, Knight Commander Ricardo and Archmage Werner Alton request an audience."
"Enter."
Enter my ass. The massive doors opened, and Ricardo strode forward with dignity before kneeling on one knee. I had no choice but to follow and assume the same posture.
"Rise and face me."
Following his command, I saw an elderly man with a long white beard like Guan Yu seated on an ornate throne. Beside him sat a dignified woman with wrinkles on her brow.
"Archmage Werner Alton."
Shit. Was he about to start grilling me in earnest now? He'd probably rant about how the runaway ninja had shamelessly returned, how no one would flee the empire unless they looked down on the imperial family, or why the hell I dipped tangsuyuk in sauce... The old sauce-dipper tyrant would go on and on. The kind of guy who'd ruin the mood by pouring sauce over tangsuyuk the moment it arrived.
Given what kind of emperor he was, it made sense Werner had holed up in a single room while preparing for revolution to solidify his political image.
"Congratulations on your return. I have no doubt you'll show results worthy of the long vacation I granted you."
He hadn't chewed me out as much as expected, but the demand for "results" bothered me. He really intended to treat me like a slave! Like a grad student! Maybe imperial mages, like grad students who weren't even recognized as people under mental health laws, weren't considered human either.
"By the way, what brings you back? It's embarrassing to say this myself, but... I hear mages would rather beg than become imperial mages. There's even that joke going around. Could it be there's a lady in the imperial family who's caught your eye?"
This bastard was clearly trying to sell me his daughter. It was obvious he wanted me to say I'd returned because I couldn't forget the princess. Good thing I'd brought three women with me. If Zoro wielded three swords with his Three-Sword Style, then I was the man who handled three women with my Three-Woman Style... wait, Three-Lady Style.
"Unfortunately, this humble servant already has someone in his heart. And for someone as lowly as me to even consider an imperial lady... it's unthinkable, Your Majesty."
I wasn't some pure-hearted fool who clung to first love and refused to meet other women, but I also wasn't a horny dog who'd jump at any girl. When Werner rejected confessions, hadn't he pointed out the princesses' looks and personalities? Imperial women were already troublesome enough—I had no desire to take on someone with flaws. Besides, the women I'd brought were overwhelmingly superior in appearance.
"Haha, that's a shame. There are still many princesses after you, so I thought you'd make a fine son-in-law."
"I'm certain Your Majesty will find a better son-in-law than me."
Better than me? Maybe. But they'd definitely be pitiful—especially the guy who'd marry that fat princess with skin problems all over her body. Unless he had some bizarre fetish for that type. But having that kind of fetish in the first place meant he'd been born with a serious condition, so it was still pitiful.
"By the way, Knight Commander Ricardo, I heard there was an attack on your residence last night. Are your family members safe?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. Thanks to Sir Werner dealing with the assassins all at once, we were able to minimize the damage."
Because we were before the Emperor, he'd even added "Sir" when referring to me.
"Minimal damage... Still, it's surprising. Assassins infiltrating your home? You personally select every servant and maid, don't you?"
"The assassins killed my former servants and wore their faces as disguises to carry out the attack. As a result, around ten servants lost their lives."
Ricardo looked somewhat sorrowful as he reported the servants' deaths. Even if they were just servants, they were his people.
"And yet, you managed to resolve the situation even though ten assassins attacked. Impressive."
"Yes. It happened while I was delayed leaving the residence because I had documents to retrieve from the palace. I was worried, but if it weren't for Sir Werner, it would have been disastrous."
We'd killed about ten of them. Of course, I'd left Flora with Camellia and taken care of the ones hiding inside the mansion. Except for the guy who got temple-twisted by my fist, they'd all been turned into super red masks, so they wouldn't be too lonely in the afterlife.
"Have you identified the mastermind?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. I came to report on that matter. Could you dismiss everyone else for a moment?"
"Very well. Everyone except Knight Commander Ricardo, leave us."
Dismissing even the guards and staying alone with him—he really was a trusted loyal subject. Now then, where was this going?