So This Was a Romance Fantasy? (3)
The urge to return quickly and finally rest burned hot inside her, but a swift homecoming had long since sailed beyond the horizon. It would have been ideal for both sides if they simply withdrew their armies—mutual benefit, clean and simple. Yet the reason they refused to pull back was, if spoken grandly, politics. Put plainly, it was a pissing contest of pride. The first to retreat would feel as though they were running away. Did they truly keep their forces stationed and wait purely for such a petty reason? The cost of maintaining the encampment alone was staggering.
One might scoff at the idea, but it was, shockingly, the truth.
Deciding today was another lost cause, Wolfgang prepared a modest sleeping spot. She had waited late into the night, but Theodore never appeared, and tomorrow’s workload already threatened to bury her.
‘Finally, I can sleep. The best moment is always when I’m—’
BANG!
‘—happy…’
CRASH!
CRACK!
“Fuck.”
Startled awake by the clamor, Wolfgang spat every curse she knew and stormed toward the source of the noise. If they were going to brawl, they could at least raise a barrier. What the hell were they thinking?
Thanks to the commotion, she arrived before the pair could settle into a true life-or-death duel. Of course, that left Galina standing there like a mute who had swallowed a hive of bees. But who could she blame? Only herself.
‘I let my blood run too hot and committed a basic error.’
The monster blood that dominated most of her body granted Galina overwhelming power, but the price was that when it boiled, her mind grew close to a monster’s. In other words, worse than a beast.
Some beasts possessed surprisingly sharp wits, yet most monsters thought only of killing the enemy before their eyes and almost nothing else.
“L-Leader… that was…”
“I’ll deal with you later.”
One light sentence was enough to sink Galina completely. Wolfgang turned her gaze to Theodore. She hadn’t expected him to visit at this hour. Perhaps she should have waited a little longer.
“You’re much later than I expected.”
“There were many matters to handle.”
“What does that mean?”
“That isn’t what’s important.”
Theodore’s calm reply gave Wolfgang the distinct impression that he had changed. In the past he would sometimes wear a distant look or fall into despair, but now—though she couldn’t be certain—she sensed a kind of relief, as though he had finally found an answer to whatever had been troubling him. The feeling reached even her.
Wolfgang let out a deep sigh. After all, she had been the one to ask this of him.
“Very well. Please, come inside the tent.”
“…You mean Sir Leonhardt’s tent?”
“Is there anywhere else?”
“I see. Understood.”
Of course Theodore still saw Wolfgang as Lana Frost. Yet ten years had passed, and an awkwardness he could not name now filled his mind. No matter that she was his blood relative, she was now a proper young lady. Still, Theodore slapped both cheeks hard with his palms, driving the distracting thoughts away. That was not what mattered right now. Focus. Remember why you came here.
Wolfgang returned to the tent with Theodore. When the soldiers, roused by the noise, stood fully armed and ready, she asked Theodore to wait, stepped outside, and settled the matter.
“Is everything truly all right?”
“Wasn’t it the kingdom bastards invading?”
“It’s fine. Just some leftover monsters causing trouble. I handled them myself, so stand down and rest.”
“Loyalty! Understood!”
“And push reveille back one hour. Keep the guard detail as is.”
After finishing the cleanup, Wolfgang returned to the tent. Meanwhile Theodore, who had entered first and looked around, could not hide his admiration. It was an utterly ordinary military tent.
“There isn’t anything particularly worth seeing.”
Feeling an inexplicable embarrassment, Wolfgang cleared her throat and spoke lightly to him. Only then did Theodore realize how openly he had been staring.
“My apologies. I didn’t realize…”
“I understand.”
Wolfgang’s tent was no different from any standard military one. Even setting gender aside, for a general of her rank it was identical to the soldiers’ quarters.
‘…It means she truly stays close to her troops. She has become an excellent general.’
A general’s authority was undeniably important. An army whose command and discipline collapsed would not last long. Yet if that authority grew too extreme, the army would crumble just the same.
‘The supply tent is such bullshit, seriously.’
Naturally, Wolfgang had not chosen this out of some noble ideal. As she had emphasized many times, she possessed the mindset of a civil servant. She fulfilled her responsibilities but did nothing beyond them. That also meant handling every matter strictly by the book.
The reason she deliberately used the supply tent? Military regulations required it. From her perspective it was, of course, utter bullshit, yet she refused to break the rules. She did only what was ordered and nothing that was forbidden. That was her philosophy.
“Then shall we get to the main topic?”
“Yes, please.”
“I will ask you directly. Am I Lana Frost?”
“…….”
Theodore lifted his head and looked at her once more. The voluminous white hair that fell to her waist, the single visible golden eye. Yes, she had changed greatly. Ten grueling years had been more than enough time to transform his little sister Lana Frost into the Empire’s war hero, Wolfgang Leonhardt.
Even so, he could say it with absolute certainty.
“Yes. You are.”
You are my one and only sister. Lana Frost.
Theodore no longer held anything back. The stories of the past he had carried in his chest for ten long years began to flow from his lips.
Until ten years ago, the Frost Duchy and the Mines Kingdom had maintained a favorable relationship. No—far more than favorable. They had been so close they called each other sworn brothers.
Yet their warm bond alone had not decided Lana’s engagement to Crown Prince Zaiha. The only woman permitted to wed the crown prince was the Saintess.
Until ten years ago the Saintess had been little more than a symbolic witness of history, the one who passed down the tales of the Heroes. Even so, it was not a role just anyone could fill.
“Brother, I want to become the Saintess.”
“The Saintess is not a position just anyone can take.”
“It’s all right. I’ll work as hard as I can.”
Come to think of it, the immature girl you had been back then lost interest in things quickly. He had assumed she would give up before long. The path to becoming the Saintess was far too long and harsh.
Court etiquette was only the beginning. Complex studies—history, mathematics, and more—were required, along with cultural accomplishments such as music and art. The virtues demanded of a Saintess were overwhelming. On top of that, because she would inherit the will of the Heroes, she even needed to wield a sword with some skill.
Few noble daughters could meet the criteria, and Theodore had never imagined Lana would be among them.
But his expectations were spectacularly wrong. Through effort so fierce it seemed to carve her very bones, Lana mastered every virtue a Saintess required. She even became competent with a blade.
And after seven years had passed, she had already proudly claimed the position of Saintess—at the age of only fourteen.
Lana Frost, the youngest Saintess in history, became famous across the Mines Kingdom in the blink of an eye. People declared that the Goddess had bestowed her blessing. The Duke of Frost rejoiced as well.
Of course, the Duke was simply pleased that the Frost Duchy’s influence had grown. Even so, Lana’s achievement had been genuinely magnificent.
Yet Theodore could not rejoice so simply. His one and only sister falling in love with another man meant she would leave his embrace and fly to another nest. It was certainly regrettable and left a bitter aftertaste, but he had chosen to bless her rather than interfere. Because when she stood beside Crown Prince Zaiha, Lana had worn a truly happy expression.
Who could have known?
That the position she had seized after seven years of desperate effort would be stolen in a single year by a newcomer. And by a girl who was nearly a simpleton, someone who knew almost nothing.
She was a child Crown Prince Zaiha had picked up in the royal hunting grounds. Normally, unauthorized entry was a grave crime, yet the Crown Prince had shown mercy, and Lana had agreed. The girl appeared to know nothing; it seemed too pitiful to punish her severely.
If only he had known the truth back then. If he could return to the past even now, he would stake everything he had to destroy her.
Even while recounting the past, he could not hide that emotion. Theodore’s lips curved into a bitter smile. His voice caught in his throat as though something blocked it. It was only natural. He remembered everything—how his beloved sister had fallen, and just how wretched that fall had been.