Interlude: Rivals (1)
The Empire was, by and large, a peaceful place.
From time to time a black mage would raise hell, or some demon contractor who had rolled in from nowhere would sow chaos, but none of it ever amounted to a serious problem.
How many knights and transcendents did the Empire possess, after all?
Most black mages had their necks and heads separated long before they could make any real trouble, and even those who somehow survived found themselves face-to-face with a murderer whose white hair was truly lovely.
Dodging the blade of a Sword Master who had transcended by virtue of being exceptionally good at carving people was no easy feat. Thanks to that, the Empire remained generally peaceful—until the last half-year, when it was forced to endure a rather turbulent stretch.
One of the Three Great Churches—and the largest among them, the Holy Light Church—had made a shocking declaration: We colluded with Camlann and even contracted with a Demon King. In fact, we laid a direct underground road straight to Camlann beneath our feet.
"Why is a Calamity Star rising over there?"
"Huh?"
In the heavens the star of the Knight of Rebellion flashed; neighboring nations chose that exact moment to declare war.
"And what in the world is that?"
"Ah. You don't know? That's the star of the Revelry Emperor. She alone leads a three-digit number of stars."
"Then how are we supposed to record this?"
"If I knew that, would I be standing here looking like this?"
They somehow managed to plug that particular hole, only to find themselves fighting a war against a transcendent who commanded hundreds of stars.
The Demon King who held eleven stars—the Revelry Emperor.
She had set every fire on the continent ablaze and plunged the Empire into chaos without precedent in its history. Rumors swirled that this time the Empire would truly fall and the continent would descend into anarchy…
That chaos, too, was neatly resolved with the birth of a hero. The historians who could once again write the sentence "The Empire is generally peaceful" into the chronicles were obliged to append a single footnote beside that line.
In Imperial Year XXXX, the Empire regained its peace.
"Hey."
"You called, Staff of Selection?"
"Could you get a little farther away?"
"Pardon?"
"I said get away."
"I have no idea what you mean."
*Except for the Arvenia territory.
"I said get away from him a little······!"
Merlin screeched and yanked on Yuel's arm. The seat beside Najin was hers—why was someone else stealing it?
"Ten."
Merlin muttered, eyes wide.
"Nine, eight, seven······."
Najin, who had been peacefully sipping coffee, shot up from his seat and clamped a palm over Merlin's mouth. He had only recently learned exactly what happened when that countdown reached zero.
The hole punched into one corner of the Arvenia Ducal garden stood as proof. Yuel blinked with perfect innocence, Merlin still pointed an accusing finger as if her anger had not yet cooled, and Najin easily restrained Merlin.
"Ahh."
Watching the entire scene, the mistress of the duchy—Dieta Arvenia—lifted her coffee cup with a hand that trembled ever so slightly.
"The coffee tastes wonderful, Najin."
The Empire had regained its peace.
Except for the Arvenia territory.
2.
There existed a person named Dieta Arvenia.
To describe her competence would take forever, and her success story had been published in every conceivable volume, sweeping the Empire's book market (with a modest infusion of Dieta Merchant Group funds, of course), so what more needed to be said?
Her titles and ranks alone were enough to convey her greatness.
Founder and chairwoman of the Empire's foremost merchant alliance.
Head of the Arvenia Ducal House—in other words, a duchess.
Holder of an exclusive contract with the Empire's greatest magic tower, closest friend of the Eternal Brilliance Horn Lady Cypria Gachevska, the great merchant who held the Empire's purse strings, the Empire's richest person, a genius of investment, the only lady with whom the Dawn Horn spoke freely, and so on······
To that long string of laudatory phrases one more line had recently been added.
Currency Eye Horn, Dieta Arvenia.
The Empire's fifth pillar, and the first merchant in imperial history to ascend to a pillar's seat.
First Horn, Gerd Isabalt.
Dawn Horn, Najin.
Eternal Brilliance Horn, Cypria Gachevska.
Pure Horn, Lauren Aresche.
Currency Eye Horn, Dieta Arvenia.
She had placed her name among those illustrious figures. Dieta figured she had scored highly for the massive quantities of supplies she had provided when the Empire prepared for war. She was rather happy about it.
It felt like compensation for her harsh childhood!
No matter how healthy her mind had become or how excellent her character, the wounds of childhood remained wounds. And she was resolving those wounds in a thoroughly healthy and wholesome manner.
Namely, by taking walks through the duchy.
The walking route was always the same.
Dieta had poured her heart into designing a course that passed directly in front of the residences of the former ducal family members—every last one of them now demoted to commoners.
And every single day, without exception, she went out for her stroll.
When the Duchess herself walked past their door, how could the residents of the territory fail to rush outside? The former duke, the former sons, the former daughters of Arvenia all came flying out barefoot if necessary and bowed their heads.
"We greet the master of Arvenia!"
As former nobles they bowed as prettily as etiquette demanded, and every time she heard that cry Dieta's mood brightened.
How satisfying it was to watch those very older sisters and brothers who had once shouted such things now pour cold sweat and cry, "We greet the master of Arvenia!"
A somewhat shady method of catharsis, perhaps, but so what?
If you didn't like it, you should have won the succession war.
This was the rightful privilege of the victor, and Dieta was thoroughly enjoying that privilege.
"Hmm, hmmm."
A tune rose unbidden to her lips. Every day was happy, and the days ahead were scheduled to become even happier. Because that person would soon arrive.
That person was none other than Najin.
Having ended the war and returned to the Empire, Najin had immediately promised a visit to the Arvenia Duchy and had gone so far as to declare—before the Emperor himself—that he would reside at the ducal house for the duration of his stay in the Empire.
"Hah."
Recalling the moment, Dieta swallowed a breath. Of course he had meant nothing by it; finding new lodgings was simply bothersome, and he intended to do as he always had······
Judging by the Emperor's expression, he had taken it "that way." Dieta, present at the same audience, had broken into a cold sweat trying to keep her face under control.
Wasn't this practically dating?
No—wasn't it already the same as being married?
There was no one to correct her delusion. Who would dare scold one of the Empire's pillars? In any case Dieta waited for Najin with a fluttering heart······
"Hey."
"You called, Staff of Selection?"
"Could you get a little farther away?"
"Pardon?"
"I said get away."
"I have no idea what you mean."
And so.
"I said get away from him a little······!"
The situation had arrived at its present state.
What am I even looking at right now.
Watching the successive bouts of squabbling, cold sweat ran down Dieta's spine. Actually it was running down her forehead as well.
She herself had obtained a single star, yes.
But one of the people before her eyes was a legendary archmage who held eleven stars, and the other was an infamous Sword Master who held six. Dieta's pupils trembled.
"The coffee tastes good, Najin."
Still, after watching this spectacle for several days running she had begun to adapt. Dieta drew a deep breath and steeled herself.
Merlin dragging Yuel off with the words "You and I need to have a talk" and leaving the table also contributed greatly to Dieta's mental equilibrium.
Leaving behind Merlin, who was now gesturing with both arms as she explained something to Yuel a short distance away, Dieta fixed her gaze on the man in front of her.
"Um, Najin?"
"Yes."
"Just what on earth happened?"
In other words: what could possibly have happened for that notorious killer to become this obsessed with you? No—simple obsession she could have understood. She had often seen Yuel shouting for duels.
But······
This time the texture was different.
"Don't tell me."
Dieta's eyes narrowed. Through half-lidded lids she stared straight at Najin.
"Najin. You."
"I can more or less tell what you're thinking, but it isn't that."
"You know what I'm thinking?"
"There's that promise we made back then. That even if I started seeing someone, I would tell you first."
Najin took a sip of coffee.
"That promise is still in effect. It isn't that I failed to mention it to you, Dieta. I simply haven't thought in that direction yet."
Unclouded eyes. The attitude that he still had no intention of dating anyone else seemed unchanged. Dieta let out a sigh of relief and sipped her coffee.
"Although I did receive a confession."
Drip.
She had barely begun to savor the coffee when it streamed out between her lips. Noble etiquette proved useless in this particular case. Hastily wiping the coffee from her mouth with a handkerchief, Dieta tilted her head.
"What did you just say?"
"It's a little complicated to explain, but I think I received something like a confession. Given the circumstances at the time I couldn't answer, though."
Najin made an awkward face. Dieta's lips trembled as if she had just been struck on the back of the head.
"No—just what have you been doing that the infamous executioner of that church would confess to you?!"
"That's a question I have as well."
From Najin's perspective there was something rather unfair about the whole affair. He had merely done as the other person wished, and as always he had faced them with complete sincerity. Merlin had occasionally screamed, "You seduced them, you lunatic," but those words were difficult for Najin to understand.
He still lacked the experience to grasp the subtle psychological dynamics between men and women.
Right. This person was always this kind of person.
Dieta clutched the stiffening nape of her neck and looked up at the sky. Well, was she really the only one who had fallen for him? Looking at the man named Najin objectively, it wasn't that strange.
Looks, personality, sincerity in everything he did, and now fame that towered high. On top of it all he was still so young it was almost unfair.
Of course, any nobles who had presumptuously floated marriage talks in Najin's direction had been cleanly disposed of by Dieta, but a church executioner was not an opponent even she could handle lightly.
Moreover······
Najin did not seem to have noticed, yet Merlin—who had gone so far as to materialize and stick right to his side—was no ordinary presence either. With the number of rivals steadily increasing, Dieta's head throbbed.
He was originally this kind of person, but.
Dieta's eyes narrowed.
It was a little······ annoying, wasn't it?
Her head understood that this man was not at fault, but her heart appeared to hold a somewhat different opinion.
Swoosh.
Dieta rose from her seat. Smoothing her skirt, she moved not back to the place opposite him but to the seat right beside him. Then she stretched out both hands and seized the front of Najin's clothes.
"Why do you go around dressed like this? It's a complete mess."
Under the pretext of straightening his attire she closed the distance. Close enough that if she leaned even a handspan farther their faces would touch, Dieta looked up at him.
"Najin."
Her eyes glistened.
"I won't make a long speech."
"Yes? A speech about what?"
"I don't know about other people, but when it comes to you, Najin, my heart is truly as broad as the sea. Even if you do something somewhat outrageous, my sea will never dry up."
She smiled, soft and bright.
"Just one thing."
She seized the necklace around Najin's neck with a firm grip. The ring dangling at its end chimed. When she pulled, his head dipped a little. Meeting his eyes from point-blank range, Dieta whispered.
"The first is mine."
Do you understand?
"As long as that much is kept, yes—everything else is fine, whatever it is."
If she had said this much, he ought to understand.
Satisfied, Dieta took a step back—and that was when she realized the voices that had been drifting from a distance had suddenly fallen silent.
Merlin and Yuel, who had been talking some way off.
Both had stopped their conversation and were staring fixedly in Dieta's direction. The archmage's deep lake-blue eyes and the executioner's vivid red eyes flashed.
Ordinarily a commoner would only shrink before the gazes of transcendents, yet Dieta received those looks with practiced ease.
I know you are transcendents and that you are great. I understand that much.
But so what?
I liked him first.
I confessed first, too.
You two are second and third.
The first is me.
The ancients had said that the first to act claims victory. Regardless of the field, the one who lines up first reaps the benefit—that was a truth of the world. Dieta smiled radiantly.
"······."
Merlin was not smiling. The words The first is me, though? I met him earlier than you did rose all the way to her throat, yet she succeeded in swallowing them through superhuman patience.
Getting heated against someone so much younger than herself—and not even a constellation, but an ordinary person—felt a little undignified.
Surprisingly, Merlin possessed a sense of shame as well.
Wait. Didn't that kid obtain one star?
Probably.
Oh, now I'm getting mad.
Yes. She did have some.