Lana Frost (1)
After long and agonizing deliberation, the Emperor’s permission for the delegation to remain was finally granted. For Crown Prince Zaid, it was an enormous relief. Had things gone even slightly wrong, they could have been expelled from the Empire on the spot. Some might argue that even in a near-hostile relationship, expelling an envoy that included not a mere prince but the crown prince himself would be no simple matter. Yet for the Empire, it was entirely possible.
The Empire’s military might rivaled not only the Mines Kingdom but even the Blood Alliance—the loose confederation of orc tribes in the west. A hundred years earlier, even when weakened by the apocalyptic winter, the Kingdom had only managed to seize a tiny sliver of imperial territory. Now that the long winter had ended, the disparity would only grow starker. A few more years and the gap would become utterly insurmountable.
Of course the Kingdom had its own secret weapons. They would not fall easily. Still, the prospect of catastrophic losses remains unchanged. Whenever Zaid pictured a future clash between Empire and Kingdom, no matter how optimistically he tried to frame it, the same horrific conclusion always surfaced. He would shudder without realizing it.
“We will now conduct a thorough body search. Your cooperation is requested.”
The moment the Emperor approved their stay, Wolfgang immediately ordered the search. Every weapon was confiscated, and every possibility of hidden armaments was checked with meticulous care. As he endured the pat-down, Zaid quietly raised his estimate of the chance that Wolfgang Leonhardt was Lana Frost. He was not certain yet. Her appearance had changed far too drastically.
Zaid had been a close friend of Teodore von Frost, so he naturally knew Teodore’s younger sister. They had met often at social gatherings and spoken at length. In fact, it had been none other than Crown Prince Zaid who had arranged the meeting between Lana and Teodore’s older brother. Had he known their relationship would collapse so catastrophically, he would never have introduced them.
Damn it all.
The search of nearly thirty people finished surprisingly quickly—within the hour. Wolfgang, having examined each person with painstaking attention, glanced at Leypen. Leypen gave a small nod. Though he truly despised the situation, the knight had no option to refuse her request. In the end he could only follow the group.
It happened in the blink of an eye. One moment they stood on a rugged imperial mountain path; the next, they were greeted by the dazzling streets of the capital, far more advanced than anything they had imagined.
“So this is the teleportation I’ve only heard about!”
“Hah, I close my eyes and suddenly we’re in the capital.”
…Stop admiring it and start panicking, you idiots!
Watching the knights stroll through the capital streets and marvel at the Emperor’s power, Zaid felt as if his insides would burst. Did they truly not understand what this meant? He could comprehend their awe; teleportation was a high-level spell normally limited to moving the caster alone. For ordinary knights, the chance to experience it was vanishingly rare. Their wonder was understandable.
The problem was who possessed that power.
The Emperor had not only moved himself—he had casually flicked one finger and transported more than thirty people at once. What kind of absurd, cheating ability was that? Dozens of wartime strategies using such power to inflict devastating damage flashed through Zaid’s mind. He also considered how one might defend against them. The conclusion was always the same: most tactics could be countered, but one could not. An unbeatable move. For the crown prince of a kingdom on the verge of rivalry with the Empire, it was the worst possible news.
And then there was the Vendetta legion, whose full strength could not even be estimated.
The Empire and the Kingdom must never go to war!
At least not now. The Kingdom could not defeat the Empire by force. That was the grim conclusion Zaid had reached. Yet even in despair he refused to break. Instead he steeled himself.
“You have traveled far, so I will grant you a short time to catch your breath. However, only one delegate may meet with me.”
“Such outrageous tyranny—!”
“Enough. From now on, speak only when I permit it.”
The knights tried to protest the absurd decree, but Zaid silenced them with a single sentence. As crown prince, he had realized what he must do to save his kingdom.
Crown Prince Zaid, was it? A slippery one. I’ll have to remember that.
Emperor Leypen of the Empire lived up to his title of Iron Blood. His eye for judging people was exceptionally sharp. Even by his standards, Zaid was remarkably capable. Few could set aside personal pride for the sake of the greater whole. Add to that the ability to read the political situation. Once the crown prince had spoken, none of the knights dared object.
Except for one.
Teodore von Frost alone ignored the order and spoke directly.
“That is too dangerous, Your Highness. At the very least allow me to accompany—”
“Sir Frost, your loyalty is admirable. But do you not have your own duty to fulfill?”
“…!!”
Instinctively Teodore’s gaze flicked to Wolfgang, who stood glued to the Emperor’s side. Or perhaps it was the Emperor who clung to Wolfgang’s side. Zaid smiled bitterly.
“Carry out your own duty. I will carry out mine.”
God, I really fucking don’t want to do this.
While a fierce political battle between Kingdom and Empire unfolded, Wolfgang’s mind was occupied by the same weariness that plagued old generals on the verge of retirement. She would not slack in her duties, of course. She performed her obligations faithfully and took her responsibilities seriously. Yet even she found that after an event like the one that had just occurred, the last remaining drop of motivation in her body evaporated completely. In technical terms, it was what one might call the sage’s time.
I even acted cute to find out whether I’m Lana Frost or some kind of protein shake?
Calling someone by a pet name could, broadly speaking, be considered acting cute. It was far from ordinary coquetry, but since she herself had thought of it that way, Wolfgang’s enthusiasm had burned away to pure white ash. As a result, even with a guest sitting in front of her, she said nothing. She simply sat there puffing away on a cigarette.
“Smoking is bad for the health, Sir Leonhardt.”
“…My apologies. How rude of me, Sir Frost.”
“I don’t mind.”
Teodore had spoken out of genuine concern. The knowledge that tobacco was harmful was common sense in both her previous world and this one. Wolfgang immediately corrected her behavior. She had lived long enough to know better than to let her reluctance show so plainly while working. In her past life she had received excellent performance reviews and had the actual skills to match. But what earned her the highest praise of all was her attitude: she drew a strict line between public and private matters. No matter how much she disliked a task, work was work.
She extinguished the cigarette at once.
I am unworthy as a vassal.
Teodore’s own heart was far from at ease. The lord he served had chosen to face the Emperor alone. It was obviously insane. What if the Emperor assassinated the crown prince? Or took him hostage and issued threats? Every worst-case scenario was possible, and none of them were particularly unlikely. Yet Zaid had stepped forward anyway. He understood his position perfectly. On the surface the two nations appeared equal, but in reality the Empire—unlike Zaid’s own fractured homeland—was entering a golden age. An iron imperial authority that even the nobles could not openly oppose, and the great hero and soldiers who had won the Winter War.
His Highness has staked his life. And yet here I am, so distracted by this child that I cannot do anything at all.
Self-loathing washed over him. But stronger still was the overwhelming gratitude that she was alive.
That was why the first question he asked was far too personal. At first he had simply been overcome with joy that she lived and let it pass. But as time went on, the worry became unbearable.
Wolfgang answered with surprising calm.
“…What happened to your eye?”
“You mean this eyepatch? It is a type of sealing tool.”
“A sealing tool…?”
“If I leave it unsealed, the flames grow too strong to control.”
The power of the flames she possessed had grown steadily stronger with time, as though feeding on the Wendigos she had burned as fuel. Eventually it reached a level even she struggled to restrain. For that reason Wolfgang normally used the seal to suppress more than half her power. Too much of anything is bad. Excessive strength could easily become poison.
“You answer more honestly than I expected.”
“The reason I answer your questions honestly is because I expect honest answers from you in return.”
“…”
“What goes around comes around.”
Her single remaining golden eye burned like living flame. The will contained within it was pure confidence. Wolfgang looked directly at Teodore and asked the question that cut like a razor.
“Do you know anything about Lana Frost?”
To some it would have been an arrow straight through the heart.