An Unwelcome Guest
Let’s review the situation.
Urtega had set out to find an assassin guild just as I’d asked, and through means no ordinary mortal could fathom, he actually managed to track down an exceptionally skilled one.
The problem was that this particular guild was an organization founded by none other than the default heroine herself, Third Princess Galante von Kerkion Arpe.
Fortunately for Greenjack, Urtega hadn’t discovered that they operated under the Third Princess’s banner. Unfortunately, thanks to Urtega’s loose tongue, they now mistakenly believed they had been exposed because of the uncanny abilities whispered to belong to Stanashila Aljen.
"......"
That was undoubtedly why Berick had come.
Having originally hailed from House Stanasila, he would have been the most natural fit for the assignment. In that case, Berick’s objective was to determine whether my alleged abilities were genuine, and if so, just how much I actually knew.
"This is enough to drive a man insane."
In this empire, assassins were treated with as much contempt and persecution as black magicians. If word got out that the Third Princess had established such a syndicate, the fallout would be catastrophic. To prevent that from happening, the princess and Greenjack would move with deadly earnest.
Which meant that, if push came to shove, they were fully prepared and willing to slit my throat.
Hell, Greenjack assassins might have already infiltrated the Duke’s Castle for all I knew.
"...Lord Patriarch. You’ve really stepped in it this time, haven’t you?"
I exhaled a long plume of cigar smoke. Urtega merely maintained his silence, his expression as stiff as carved wood.
"I mean, uh... damn it all, haah..."
Frustration and annoyance surged through me, and I had to fight tooth and nail to swallow down the stream of curses clawing at my throat.
"...First off, Father. There’s a very real chance I might get assassinated in the near future. Do you have any intention of protecting me?"
"No one shall bring shame upon House Stanasila. Under no circumstances will I permit such absurdities as an assassination within the walls of this castle." His cold, unwavering gaze bore straight into me. "Even if... they are not of my own blood."
"...Does that mean you'd protect the butlers and maids too?"
"...Precisely."
"Heh, heheh. Could you please not phrase it in such a confusing way? You make it sound like I'm not your son or something."
"......"
Even when I plastered on a broad smirk and mocked him, he remained steadfastly silent. I studied his stony face and took another drag from my cigar.
"Phew... Anyway, it's nice to hear you’ll keep me alive, but to be blunt, it’s a little hard to put my faith in a father who’s this prone to dropping the ball, you know?"
"......"
Urtega glared at me with blatant displeasure, but I simply gave a sly shrug.
"So let’s throw everything we've got at this. The Shadow Knights, the mage division, even the knight order."
"That is excessive."
"Is it? Against Greenjack, I doubt it’s excessive in the slightest. If you weren’t here serving as an asymmetric deterrent, I’d have already been dragged off to some torture chamber or interrogation cell, full garrison or not."
"...You hold them in that high regard?"
"Of course I do. They were built by the Third Princess, of all people. Don’t you know who she is?"
"I am aware. An unprecedented prodigy, the Heavenly Voice, the Piercing Eye... She answers to many epithets."
"Glad to hear you’re briefed."
In the game's lore, the Third Princess was a remarkable figure—or rather, an absolute monster. Her talent had begun showing at an early age, drawing people to her like a guiding star burning in the night sky, and by honing and studying that gift, she had accumulated an endless list of achievements.
However, her accomplishments rarely saw the light of day, simply because her abilities weren’t the flashy, overt kind.
She was a genius tailored specifically to assist, support, and lead.
That was Third Princess Galante von Kerkion Arpe.
From the start, her classification in the game was that of a Bard—a thorough, unadulterated support specialist. Crowd control skills like paralysis, confusion, and disruption; party-wide buffs that inflated stats to absurd proportions; debuffs that gutted enemy combat strength; and on top of that, her lore-specific exclusive skill, Forced Awakening.
The moment she joined even the most pitiful, ragtag party, combat transformed into an effortless, breezy cakewalk.
Her contributions might not turn heads, but the moment she was gone, her absence felt like an insurmountable void. In short, she wielded the exact kind of ability tailor-made for high-angst, obsessive regret fiction.
"...Knowing her temperament, she’s definitely going to stick her nose into this. I’d strongly recommend coming up with a countermeasure in advance."
"I shall keep that in mind."
He seemed to ponder something for a moment before letting out a soft sigh. Hearing a sigh escape his lips was rare enough that I arched an eyebrow and swirled my bottle of liquor.
"Hmm. I doubt a sigh like that is just over the princess... Looks like you've got other troubles on your mind. Care for a drink?"
"...I wouldn't mind."
Seeing him lean comfortably back against his chair, I smirked. When I casually extended my hand to the side, a pale hand emerged from the shadow beneath my chair, offering up a clean glass. Truly, a sharp and capable maid.
I poured it full to the brim and handed it over, and he tossed the entire contents down his throat in a single gulp.
"...Potent."
"Haha! Even a Demi-God finds this stuff stiff, huh?"
Grinning cheekily, I moved to pour him another, but he waved a hand in refusal. Shrugging, I simply tipped the neck of the bottle to my lips and chugged straight from it. His face twisted slightly at the sight.
"Do you have no intention of displaying a shred of refinement?"
"Pfft... It feels a little embarrassing to start acting all polite this late in the game."
"Haah..."
Another heavy sigh leaked from his chest.
"Did that sigh come out because of me? Or is there another reason?"
"...The latter."
Now I was genuinely curious. What on earth could possibly wrench a sigh from the lungs of a Demi-God?
"What on earth is eating at you so much?"
"......"
Faced with the direct question, he fell silent for a beat before opening his mouth in mild resignation.
"I suppose there is no harm in telling you. To put it bluntly, we have no funds."
"...What?"
It was so completely out of left field that I stared at him in utter disbelief. Yet, perfectly serious, he tapped a finger against the documents resting before him.
"You are aware that Pitra is hosting a banquet in Berick’s honor."
"Yeah."
"Under normal circumstances, I intended to adjust the budget and hold a moderately sized gathering. Even that was quite tight, but... it was within manageable bounds."
"......"
"However, now that we know Her Highness the Princess is attending, we cannot avoid hosting an event befitting her station. That is where my headache lies."
Was the duchy’s financial situation really backed into that tight of a corner? Post-war reconstruction must have drained far more coin than I’d realized.
Still, to think that filthy lucre could back even a Demi-God into a corner... While I couldn't help being impressed, a flicker of doubt rose in my mind.
"Wait... there’s really no need to fret over it that much. The Third Princess probably knows our situation anyway, so she won't be expecting an opulent feast."
"Operating under that assumption would cost us dearly."
"Why? What’s the catch?"
"Because, by an extraordinary stroke of coincidence, the Saintess is currently residing within the Duke’s Castle."
"Ah."
Wait... was I partially to blame for that?
"If rumors were to spread that I, a noble of the Empire, gave Her Highness the cold shoulder right before the living symbol of the Holy Church, our prestige and honor would plummet."
"...Who cares if it takes a little hit? Can't we just let them flap their gums and ignore it?"
"That would invite severe repercussions. Some subtle and underhanded, others delivered straight to our front door."
"Haah... damned politics. Keep me as far away from that garbage as humanly possible."
Shaking my head in disgust, I took another swig from the bottle when a thought suddenly struck me. I glanced down toward my shadow.
"Muriel."
"You called, Master?"
The instant her name left my lips, Muriel slipped out from the darkness, offering a crisp, courteous bow.
"Don't we have a bunch of precious metals stashed in our Subspace Pouch?"
"We have a great deal. An immense amount, in fact."
I gave a satisfied nod. The gold bullion we had looted from the Bottom of Rancor dungeon—by breaking what were supposed to be indestructible environmental objects—was by no means a trivial sum. After all, it had been stuffed to the brim inside that massive sarcophagus.
"Pull it out."
"Understood."
Reaching into the Subspace Pouch hanging from her waist, she began hauling out thick, hefty bars of solid gold, stacking them neatly on the office floor. On and on she went.
Within moments, the pyramidal stack of bullion had already grown taller than me. Even though Urtega’s office was by no means small, the mountain of gold threatened to cramp the entire room.
"......"
Wait, something felt off.
No matter how much we looted, there couldn't have been this much, right?
"...Stop."
"Yes, Master."
Stopping Muriel just as she prepared to start a second pyramid, I beckoned her closer with a subtle wave. When I leaned in and pressed my lips against her ear, she gave a tiny start, a faint shiver running down her frame.
"Hyaah...!"
"Don't make weird noises... Muriel, did we really recover this much gold?"
"The gold from the royal tomb was far less than this."
"Right? My memory isn't playing tricks on me, is it? Then where the hell did the rest of these bars come from?"
"They were already inside the Subspace Pouch when we acquired it."
"...They were?"
"Yes."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I assumed you were already aware, Master."
Her cool, matter-of-fact reply left me completely speechless.
"...Just to be clear, how much is left?"
"Enough to construct roughly ten more piles of that size."
"......"
I stole a sideways glance at the golden pyramid. Looming so high that I had to crane my neck, the immense heap of treasure gleamed brilliantly in the office light.
"Is that so..."
Turns out, I was absurdly wealthier than I’d thought.
Even I had no idea.
"Ahem. Well... Father. This should be more than enough to cover the banquet expenses, right? Consider it a loan. Zero interest, no deadline. Just put it on my tab."
"...This will certainly suffice. Did you acquire this from the dungeon you conquered recently?"
"Yeah."
"That is a weight off my chest. Very well. I shall record this as a debt to you."
"Sounds good. Then I'll leave this matter in your capable hands, okay?"
"...I believe you are the one who ought to be taking action, rather than I."
"I know. I'm just saying I expect maximum support and backing from you. Oh, and I’d like to wrap up my original errand as quickly as possible too."
"...Must you truly go through with that?"
"Yes. So make sure you brief Berick properly. Steer him toward recommending a different assassin guild instead. You know why, right?"
"Understood. Ah, and one more thing."
Just as I moved to rise from my seat, his voice froze me in place.
"You will also be required to attend the banquet this time, so make sure you are properly prepared."
"...Do I really have to go?"
"You ask the obvious."
"Haah..."
A throbbing pain was already creeping up the back of my neck from pure stress.
"...Then make sure you screen the guest list thoroughly. If any two-bit parasites or opportunists try to sidle up to me looking for scraps, I might not be able to hold my temper. And no, I'm not just saying that for effect."
"I shall take it into consideration as much as possible."
"Much obliged for your hard work. Later."
Stepping out of the office, I let out a heavy sigh as I made my way back to my quarters.
How were Berick, Greenjack, and the Third Princess going to move... and how the hell was I supposed to counter them?
Just turning it over in my head made my temples throb with a vicious headache.
"Oh, look who finally decided to show up. I was wondering what on earth you and Father were whispering about for so long."
"...Haah."
Waiting inside my room, lounging around as if he owned the damned place, was Berick.
All I wanted was to rest my pounding head, but the universe clearly had no intention of cutting me any slack.