Penalty Hour (3)
House Kent was a family with a long history.
During the age of chaos when the Evil Gods sought to bring this land to ruin, a nameless man carved out his legacy with nothing but his own sword — and that man's name became Kent.
As descendants of a hero who had trained with the blade for generations upon generations, House Kent lacked nothing to deserve being called a family of the sword.
True to a house that had gripped a single blade for centuries, the Kent territory was steeped in everything sword-related. Dojos upon dojos dedicated to teaching swordsmanship. Forges that hammered out blades. Beyond even that, shops that catered to those who came to train their bodies.
The scenery of this place — a stop any sword-and-shield character would have visited at least once — looked almost exactly as I remembered it from the game.
Which meant, presumably, that the various settings baked into this region were identical to the game's as well.
"...I hate teleporting."
Just as I was admiring the view, Frey grumbled her way out the carriage door.
Even Frey, indifferent to most things in this world, apparently found whatever had just happened to her insides too much to bear.
'A little rest...'
"You can't even endure this much, Frey unnie? That's totally pathetic. What are you gonna do? If you begged me nicely, I might've let you rest a bit~?"
"...No. I'm fine. Let's go."
Staggering, Frey nonetheless guided me across the street.
'Um, Frey unnie...'
"Frey unnie. Nobody's told me what we're actually doing here yet. Don't tell me you're dumb enough to have forgotten what you were supposed to ask me for?"
What on earth was she dragging me to the Kent estate to do?
I genuinely had no idea.
If the girl in front of me had been anyone but Frey, I could have made predictions based on the game's lore — but this four-dimensional gremlin was not a person such guesses worked on. Even I, a certified rotten-water veteran of Soul Academy, hadn't the faintest clue what went on in her head.
"A duel."
'...I'm sorry, what?'
"What?"
"A duel. We're going to duel."
A duel? She dragged me all the way to her family's estate... for a duel?
We could've done that at the academy's training grounds just fine, couldn't we?
While I was tilting my head, unable to tell whether Frey was joking or dead serious, the entrance to House Kent came into view before I knew it.
"My lady. And the person beside you?"
The guard at the gate trembled at the sight of me standing next to Frey.
Did this man also know of Lucy's infamous reputation?
Accustomed as I was to earning strangers' fear, I merely shrugged and kept my mouth shut. Whatever I said was bound to make things worse.
"This is Lucy. My friend."
"Your... friend?"
"Yeah. A friend. Right?"
'That's right, Frey unnie.'
"If a friend counts as someone who clings to you one-sidedly, then sure. I suppose that works."
"This is unbelievable! My lady has brought home a friend instead of another victim!"
It was I who was flustered by the guard sobbing and shouting.
Wait — his eyes weren't shaking because he was scared of me?
He was just shocked that Frey had gotten into trouble yet again?
...Something's wrong here. There shouldn't be a single soul who doesn't know the infamy attached to the name Lucy?
"Ahem! Please wait just a moment! I shall report this moving development to the lord of the house at once!"
I stared blankly after the guard, who dabbed at his tears and hurried off into the distance, until Frey's shoulder taps barely jolted me back to my senses.
"Let's go in."
'That man just now...'
"He told us to wait, didn't he? Can't dumb little Frey unnie even understand that?"
"It's fine. No problem at all."
No matter how I looked at it, there were problems everywhere, but unable to refuse Frey's orders, I let her lead me through the estate's gates.
"Oh my, my lady! What brings you here? And the person beside you — hmm? A friend? A friend?!"
"The lord's efforts have finally been rewarded! My lady has brought a friend home!"
"Please take good care of our lady, Lady Aln!"
"Sniff! How can we ever repay this gratitude!"
The servants of House Kent were, without exception, people with not a single wrinkle of caution to be found. On hearing the name Lucy Aln, rather than showing fear, they had all tried to smash their heads into the ground shouting, Thanks to you, my lady has changed!
Naturally, I now understood why Frey's little sister had been so deafening at the Partran festival. Growing up in this household, that was simply the norm.
"Frey unnie! When did you get here?! You should have told us you were coming! And the person beside you is—"
Ugh, damn it. The loudest person in this entire mansion had appeared, somehow having sensed I was thinking about her.
Parna Kent.
Frey's younger sister.
Unlike the silent, do-things-at-her-own-pace Frey, this girl was an energetic my-own-pace — so noisy in the game that her dialogue text seemed to render in a larger font than everyone else's.
And that hadn't changed much after becoming reality.
No — it had gotten worse. Text on a screen had turned into an actual voice.
"...You're Lady Aln, aren't you?!"
'Yes, I am.'
"You can tell just by looking, can't you? That I'm on a whole different level from you scrubs."
"Waaaah! You were soooo pretty before, but now you're sooooooooo..."
This girl's lung capacity is incredible. Is it because she's a warrior too?
"...Soooooooo much prettier now! You look like an angel descended from heaven! The goddess of beauty must be jealous!"
'Thank you.'
"Do you have to loudly state the obvious? A noble lady who can't mind her manners like this. Truly pathetic."
"Hahah! I hear that a lot, but it never sticks!"
Impressive — not a flicker of change in her expression despite the insult.
She looked so unfazed it was as if she hadn't even comprehended that it was an insult.
...Hold on. Could it be she genuinely didn't understand? Is that it?
"Move. I'm busy."
Just as I was thinking she really might be exactly that type, Frey wedged herself between me and Parna.
"Why?"
"I have things to do with my friend."
"A friend! The word 'friend' came out of unnie's mouth! I'm so moved!"
"So has this mother of yours! Parna!"
Onto Parna's commotion was piled yet another commotion.
Countess Kent had appeared from behind her younger daughter.
The countess, a woman whose bearing perfectly suited the word "matriarch," arrived with thunderous footfalls, seized Frey in her two massive arms, and crushed her in an embrace.
"Our Frey brought a friend home! Sniff! I think I might cry!"
"Um. Mom? I—"
"Waaah! To see you change like this, unnie! I'm so proud of you!"
"No, I can't. Can't... breathe..."
Watching the color drain from Frey's face until it turned deathly pale, I simply gave up on trying to speak. Whatever I said was clearly going to be swallowed whole by that ruckus.
<This takes me back to Farun. The man was a dreadful fuss-maker.>
'...He's probably the founder of House Kent, isn't he?'
<Ho. Is that so? The power of blood is a remarkable thing. To think a few centuries would leave that temperament untouched.>
'Then why haven't I grown any taller, though? Considering Father's size, I should be far bigger than this by now.'
<...A fine question. That may be something only the Chief God knows.>
The moment Grandpa said that, I very nearly blurted out — Is that because the pathetic Chief God is a pedophilic sexual criminal?! — but I barely managed to swallow it.
I couldn't very well spout blasphemies about the Chief God to Grandpa, a devout holy man.
The chaos generated by Parna Kent and Countess Kent only swelled as time went on.
First, belatedly noticing that Frey had nearly fainted, they fussed over her with elaborate apologies. Then, thanking me for "changing Frey," they moved on to attempting my death by suffocation.
The instant they heard me call her "Frey unnie" —
"If you call her 'Frey unnie,' that means I can call you 'Lucy unnie' too, right?! May I call you my suuuuper pretty Lucy unnie?!"
"Then does that mean this cute, adorable young lady becomes my daughter?! Absolutely welcome! Won't you call me Mama?!"
— they shrieked loud enough to burst my eardrums.
I wasn't sitting idle either, mind you.
I tried, here and there, to cut the conversation off with the mesugaki skill's signature abuse.
But those two, who heard everything through their own creative reinterpretation filters, paid zero attention to whether they were being cursed at or not. In the end, Frey and I weren't set free until Count Kent himself finally made an appearance.
Judging by how cleanly he handled it, this was evidently not the first such incident. The moment he arrived, he sternly rounded up Parna and the Countess, dispatched them back into the mansion, and then bowed his head to me again and again.
"I am truly sorry, Lady Aln! Those two mean no malice, I assure you — but that doesn't change the fact that it was discourteous! Please accept my apologies once more!"
Watching the Count apologize for his family's rudeness, I found myself thinking of Benedict. Back when Lucy ran around causing one disaster after another, surely Benedict did this too, didn't he?
'It's quite all right. Please don't worry about it.'
"It's fine. What can you do with such a sloppy man as head of the house? Think nothing of it."
"Thank you so much for your understanding!"
Just how much trouble did this man's family cause, that a trace of the long-suffering office worker showed on the face of a sword family's patriarch?
...I should arrange for this man and Benedict to have a conversation sometime. I have a feeling the two of them would get along spectacularly.
"Er. Lady Aln. Might I ask what business brings you to our estate?"
'That would be Frey unnie's...'
"I got dragged here by my hopelessly dumb Frey unnie, so I don't really know either. Sloppy Count~."
Hearing my explanation, Count Kent studied my face with watery eyes, then slowly turned his head to the side.
"...Frey? Is this true?"
"Yeah. It's true. I brought Lucy here."
"Why?"
"I want to watch you and Lucy duel."
"...Huh?"
'...I'm sorry, what?'
"...I beg your pardon?"
Despite the bewildered voices from Count Kent and me alike, Frey remained perfectly composed.
"I feel like I'll understand something if I watch the two of you duel. So do it."
"Frey. This isn't such a simple matter."
Count Kent did his best to talk her out of it. The gap in skill between me and him was far too vast. If I were injured during the duel, it could become a serious problem. Perhaps she'd care to watch him duel instead of doing it herself — and so on.
'I'm fine with it.'
"What's this, Sloppy Count? Scared you might lose to me? Because I'm fine with it~?"
Truthfully, the proposal Frey had thrown out didn't feel all that awkward to me.
Think it through, and this was an offer with no reason for me to refuse.
Count Kent might show a weak, doting side in front of his family, but the moment he drew his sword, he was an entirely different man. A genius so formidable that even the current Sword Saint couldn't confidently claim superiority. The man who had synthesized the Kent family's sword arts and forged a blade style entirely his own. A swordsman whose name was known to every soul on the continent.
I had felt the sting of inexperience keenly when facing Duke Burrow not long ago. A person like me had no reason whatsoever to turn down the chance to fight someone stronger.
"My lady. You may be fine with it, but I am not. If you were to be injured, I would be a dead man at Sir Benedict's hands."
In Count Kent's claim that his very lifespan hung in the balance should Benedict's wrath descend upon him, I could feel the terror he held toward my father. For a man whose pride in his own strength was the one thing he never hid, to raise the white flag like this...
Just what kind of person had Benedict been, sweeping across the battlefields of the past?
I found myself newly awed by Benedict's strength — and yet my desire for the duel did not waver one bit.
Frankly speaking, even if things went wrong, it'd be Count Kent who was screwed, not me, wouldn't it? I don't even have to clean up afterward, so why should I trouble myself with someone else's circumstances?
"Hehe♡ Is the great Count perhaps a scrub who can't even overwhelm a tiny little girl like me?♡ A third-rate swordsman too frightened he can't hold back his strength?♡"
"...My lady?"
"It's okay♡ Totally understandable♡ It's not your fault you're a pathetic scrub who can't even trust his own blade, right?♡"
"...Lady or no, daughter of House Aln or no, there are things one may say and things one may not."
"Ah♡ So it's the Count's own fault he's a hopeless daddy who can't even grant his daughter's one little request?♡ Pfft♡ I feel so sorry for Frey unnie, stuck with a scrub daddy like that♡"
Giggling as I studied the Count's expression, I confirmed that he would absolutely not back down. His face, barely clinging to its last shreds of reason, would have brought a weak-willed man to tears, it was so fierce.
"Very well. I accept. The duel."
Just as expected.
Having watched him bite down hard on his lip, I leisurely stirred the divinity within my body.
Well then.
Let's find out just how far the current me can go.
Time to land a hit.
On a swordsman leagues beyond me.