The Shield
Moron.
…You utter, absolute idiot.
Those were the words the female knight Celine swallowed down as she glared at the back of Rufus Wainwright’s head.
Granted, when it came to swordsmanship alone, he was an unmatched transcendent. He had once cleaved through seven ogres single-handedly, and some twenty years ago, he had quashed a bloody civil war within a ducal domain entirely on his own.
Yet what good was supreme strength when he couldn't even see through Eric’s transparent ploy, nodding along like a gullible fool?
"…Eric. I will see your name cleared one day, no matter what. Though I know my word carries little weight with you now."
The commander had followed him all the way outside the barracks just to offer heartfelt comfort. Watching Commander Wainwright clasp Eric’s hands tightly with an earnest, sorrowful expression, Celine felt her blood boil to the brink of madness.
She wanted nothing more than to rip off Eric's mask right this second, to scream that he—that despicable rat—was spewing nothing but blatant lies. But for the life of her, she couldn't figure out how to dismantle the trap he had laid under the noble guise of 'refugee relief.'
Only after being held back for several more minutes of the commander's rambling did Eric finally step away from the barracks. Outwardly, he looked utterly destitute and gaunt. He had returned his standard-issue armor and sword, and his two warhorses had already been surrendered. All Eric had left now were shabby civilian clothes and a single sidearm blade for self-defense.
Above all, he had relinquished his knighthood.
A knight was, after all, an office rather than a noble title. As long as one remained under the banner of the Imperial Guard Knights, one could command respect even from highborn lords, but once discharged, he was nothing more than an ordinary commoner.
Yet what did status matter? Eric was already sitting on a staggering fortune of forty billion liras.
Celine could not stomach the sight of Eric hoarding that immense wealth all to himself. She had to make him cough up at least a share of it before he walked away... No, it wasn't just about the money; she needed to hold him accountable for the despicable scheme he had pulled.
I can't just let him walk away.
She resolved to tail him.
"Commander," Celine said smoothly. "Though we may have had a minor falling-out over a misunderstanding, Eric was still our comrade. Allow me to bid him a proper farewell."
"Very well. Go."
True to form, the commander agreed without a shred of suspicion. Celine hurriedly took off after Eric’s retreating back.
"Eric!"
"……."
"Stop right there. We need to talk."
"I have nothing to say to you."
Eric didn't spare her so much as a glance. Despite walking away from the order he had served for years, there wasn't a hint of lingering regret in his stride. If anything, he looked eager to clear out as fast as his legs could carry him.
Like hell you'll get your way.
Celine quickened her pace and forcibly cut in front of him. Only then did Eric halt, his face settling into a sullen scowl.
Look at that smug look on his face. If there weren't so many prying eyes around, she would have slapped him across the cheek then and there. But right now, confronting him calmly took priority.
Fortunately, Celine had patience to spare. Attaining upper-tier Expert rank as a woman and earning recognition as one of the Empire's premier young swordswomen were feats impossible without extraordinary grit. Grilling Eric with cold logic should have been child's play—
Wait.
What exactly was she supposed to accuse him of? Her mind drew a blank.
The other knights caught up a moment later, out of breath, but they were struck dumb as well. All they could do was contort their faces in fury and spit out curses.
"You son of a bitch..."
"A bit aggressive for a farewell address, don't you think?"
As Celine and the others stood frozen in awkward hesitation, Eric let out a heavy sigh. He waved his hand dismissively, gesturing for them to get out of his way. It was a thoroughly insolent gesture, yet the words that slipped from his mouth were surprisingly polite and formal.
"Sir Knights, if you would be so kind as to clear the road."
"What the hell do you think you're—"
"Back when we were comrades, I took the liberty of speaking casually thanks to your grace. But circumstances have changed, haven't they?"
"...Ha."
If he had snapped back with venomous defiance, they could have lashed out in return. But Eric didn't display the faintest flicker of anger. Being kicked out of the order, turning his back on comrades who had lived like brothers-in-arms—none of it seemed to faze him in the slightest.
That serene, nonchalant face made Celine’s stomach churn with even greater fury.
"Did you have anything else to say?" Eric asked.
"...Eric."
"If not, I shall take my leave. Countless refugees are out there awaiting a helping hand. I must distribute whatever rock-hard crusts of bread I can find, and offer a chance at learning to children desperate to break free from the chains of poverty."
Maintaining his brazen act to the very end, Eric slipped past them like an eel. Celine and her companions stood in stunned silence, staring blankly at his back.
"That parasitic piece of filth..."
"Should we just chase him down and beat him to death?"
Celine glared daggers at Eric’s departing figure as well, but she didn't waste time indulging in useless fury. She had spent months snooping into his affairs, gathering intel. Now was the time to put that knowledge to use.
Without missing a beat, Celine began barking out assignments on the spot.
"Morgan, have the squires tail Eric. Don't make direct contact, just track his movements. He'll likely relocate his residence soon."
"Understood. I'll get on it."
"And Senior Alan? Your cousin is a senior administrator in the records department, right? There's a low-level clerk named Bingo under him. He's close with Eric, so we'll use him."
"Good idea. That bastard Bingo is treated like garbage in administration anyway, so squeezing him won't cause any blowback."
"Let's move, then."
There was no time to delay. At Celine's low command, the knights sprang into motion with disciplined precision. Their resolve was far grimmer and more earnest than when riding out to save a village engulfed by a monster wave. The singular obsession that Eric could not be allowed to get away with this drove their every step.
However, their scheme to exploit Bingo collapsed right out of the gate.
"Bingo? He resigned."
Bingo had tendered his resignation at the exact same time as Eric.
While nowhere near Eric’s level, Bingo was another bastard who had struck it rich overnight. Back when Kodana hovered under ten million liras, he had gone into debt to purchase nine coins, raking in tens of times his investment. Cashing out those coins alone would net him more than a century's worth of a regular guard knight's annual salary.
With Bingo gone as well, there was no obvious leverage left to pressure Eric.
What now?
Could they use his family as leverage?
Unfortunately, the whereabouts of Eric’s family were unknown. His parents had died before reaching their forties, and his siblings had scattered to the winds for various reasons. It wasn't due to any extraordinary tragedy; that was simply the mundane reality of impoverished commoners.
Threatening him with authority or raw force wasn't a viable option either.
The commander is standing right behind him now.
Though Wainwright had been persecuting Eric only recently, he now looked upon him with endless pity. For a while—no, for quite some time—the commander would undoubtedly keep tabs on Eric's situation, looking for any opportunity to look out for him.
"We just need to overpower him by force," ground out Ramsey, his seaweed-like wavy hair hanging limp as he gritted his teeth. Celine threw him a look of utter disdain.
"Are you insane? You want to draw steel inside the Imperial Capital?"
"When he lets his guard down..."
"He's never going to let his guard down! And even if we could overpower him, what then? Threaten to lop off an arm? Drag him to the Imperial Bank with a blade to his throat? Talk some sense for once!"
"……."
Only then did Ramsey realize the sheer stupidity of what he had said, clamping his mouth shut.
If Eric were intoxicated by newfound wealth and frequented brothels unarmed, that would be one thing. But right now, he was on high alert against his former comrades. His stated plan to open a swordsmanship clinic was likely rooted in a resolve never to let his blade stray far from his side.
Faced with a complete lack of viable answers, the knights exchanged glances and let out heavy sighs. Celine decided to smooth over the tension first.
"I'm sorry for raising my voice, Senior. This isn't the time for us to be fighting amongst ourselves."
"...No, I spoke without thinking," Ramsey conceded.
Having traded harsh words, the knights quickly reclaimed their sense of camaraderie.
They couldn't exploit his personal connections, nor could they take him by force. If the knights fragmented into bickering factions amidst all this, it would only play right into Eric’s hands. Whatever happened, they needed to maintain a united front.
Cooling their heated tempers, the knights put their heads together once more to brainstorm a way forward.
Or rather, they intended to.
Unfortunately, the very next morning brought a sudden mobilization order.
"Fuck. Why now, of all times?"
Celine grumbled foully as she answered the muster. Excluding personnel deployed off-site, all eighty knights had assembled in the courtyard. Commander Wainwright stood before them, his expression grim and subdued. Celine gritted her teeth, praying the briefing would wrap up quickly.
Yet the commander had not summoned them merely to give some tedious lecture.
"We have deployment orders."
"Pardon? So suddenly?"
"Suddenly? Since when has the Demon King's Army ever checked our schedule before making an appearance?"
"Ah, that... A slip of the tongue, Commander. My apologies."
"Tsk... Reports indicate that the Rancart Margraviate is under attack by hundreds of lizardmen. The Four Heavenly King recently slain by the Hero's party was a beastman, was it not? Usually, once one of the Four Heavenly Kings falls, the forces under their banner quiet down for a time, so the situation is somewhat puzzling."
"……."
Hundreds of lizardmen, each possessing physical strength several times that of an ordinary man, were assaulting the margraviate. Naturally, the Imperial Guard Knights were expected to mobilize.
Yet the knights, their minds utterly consumed by Kodana, dragged their feet with faces that practically screamed: Why the hell now?
The commander looked curiously at the sour expressions plastered across several knights' faces before letting out a solemn sigh of understanding.
"...Yes, I understand. Your hearts are heavy over Eric’s departure. But that burden is mine alone to bear. You need only focus on fulfilling the duty before you. Let us resolve to carry Eric’s share of the load as well, and ride out to save the Rancart domain!"
Oblivious to the truth, the commander consoled his subordinates with noble sentiments before ordering the march.
It was a perilous deployment, and they would be tied down in the borderlands until the lizardman horde was completely eradicated. Considering the marching distance alone, the expedition would take at least three weeks, if not longer.
No... I can't leave like this! Not now!
Celine racked her brain desperately, searching for any excuse to remain behind in the Imperial Capital—
"Crushing the Demon King's assault is a mission far nobler than even aiding refugees," Wainwright declared, deliberately singling Celine out for the vanguard. "Rest assured, I shall watch over Eric from afar, so do not worry about him."
"...Commander."
"I know. For now, put it all from your mind and dedicate yourself entirely to the mission. The day will come when you can reconcile."
Celine stared at him dumbfoundedly, while the commander gave her a warm, magnanimous smile—as if asking what in the world could be more glorious and rewarding than saving an imperiled realm.
In the end, without being able to utter a single word of protest, Celine was forced onto the expedition trail with tears of bitter frustration welling in her eyes.