Long-Term Mission (1)
Rione Becker, the only mage left in the Raven Knight Order, asked the question with her usual earnest tone. “Commander, are you not planning to attend this banquet?”
The storm-like days of summer had passed, and the crisp autumn winds now swept through every alley of the royal capital.
“...A banquet, you say.”
Theodora let out a listless sigh. Rione gazed at her with eyes full of pity. Ever since that battle, their commander had become like this. The Raven Knight Order itself had changed beyond recognition. They had lost their easygoing yet skilled and kind vice-commander. They had also lost the member closest to him—one whose swordsmanship rivaled even the commander’s—and the pair had vanished together without a trace. The cheerful, aquiline-nosed knight who wielded violet aura was gone as well. So were many others. Some, like the two mentioned, remained missing. Others had been found as cold corpses.
“I’ll send a proxy.”
“If you skip it again, there’s no telling what the royal family will say. Commander, you’re already...”
Theodora squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her fingertips against her temples. “There will be no harm done to the Order.”
At some point, the Raven Knight Order had become heroes in the eyes of the frontier’s people. Theodora’s own elevated status was merely an added benefit.
Rione’s expression grew even gloomier at those words. “I’m not worried about the Order right now, am I?” Her long red hair, tinged with orange, swayed as she voiced her reproach.
Theodora simply met Rione’s gaze without rebuke. It was an action that might have been considered rude coming from an ordinary member, yet Theodora said nothing.
“It’ll be all right, Rione.”
Rione stared at her for a long moment before shaking her head. “Then I’ll take my leave.”
“Yes. Tomorrow’s the weekend—rest while you can.”
Theodora saw her off with a faint smile. Rione lingered at the door with worry still clouding her eyes, then finally stepped out of the commander’s office.
The door closed with a heavy thud. At the same moment, a long sigh slipped from between Theodora’s lips. Her body sank into the stiff chair.
“...Haa.”
Frowning, Theodora recalled the events of that evening a few days earlier. The family estate. The moment she had come face to face with her loathsome kin.
“Please return, my lady.”
The family knights stood in her way with those words. Theodora looked from one to the other, her face a mask of disbelief. Their stance was unyielding.
“The daughter of this house wishes to see her father. Why are you blocking me?”
“My lady… if you approach with such murderous intent, what will the Count think?”
A middle-aged knight spoke for the rest of them.
“I have no desire to use force against the family’s own knights.”
“We feel the same, my lady.”
“Then stand aside.”
“How can we, when we don’t know what might happen?”
Theodora’s voice grew cold as steel. Yet even after her warning, the knights refused to yield. They merely staggered back, crushed beneath her overwhelming presence, or reached hesitantly for their sword hilts.
“If you draw those blades, you will regret it.”
Did they know? Theodora wondered. Three years ago, when Leon Benning’s monstrous hand had reached out, had they been aware?
“Ugh…”
One young knight, unable to endure the pressure, unconsciously drew his sword halfway. Theodora’s gaze locked onto the blade. Beneath her icy glare, its sharp edge became nothing more than a worthless chunk of scrap iron.
“You fool—!”
Before the shout could finish, a heavy thud rang out. The rookie who had drawn his weapon was already on his knees. Theodora quietly looked down at her own fist.
“My lady.” The middle-aged knight’s voice was tight with tension.
…She’s grown even stronger.
Theodora regarded the man who spoke as though begging for mercy. From his lips came a question that sounded like one from a judge.
“Did you know?”
She did not miss the way his eyes wavered. He lowered his head deeply, unable to find an answer.
“You, who have served longest as the head’s personal escort knight—you could not possibly have been ignorant.”
“…I would ask that you not distort my loyalty to the family.”
“Loyalty to the family. Well said.”
Since she would have no further business with this house anyway.
Her leg lashed out at the escort knight who had subtly revealed his hostility. Behind her footsteps, the knights lay crumpled on the ground.
A servant blocked her path with trembling eyes as she advanced toward the main building after felling the family’s guards.
“T-Theodora… my lady…”
Theodora ignored him entirely, treating him like a mere stone in the road as she continued forward.
“My lady! Please, just a moment—”
His attempt to stop her proved ineffective. Theodora turned to face the servant who desperately barred her way.
“Move.”
The single word carried crushing authority. The servant felt as though his insides were shriveling. Damn it. I never thought this would happen. Despite the Count’s claim that knowing the full truth would change nothing, his daughter had arrived at the family estate carrying quiet, seething fury.
“My lady, the Count has his reasons—”
“Silence.”
Theodora’s voice sliced through his words like a freshly honed blade. The servant’s eyes froze, pinned beneath her cold, storm-cloud gaze.
“You would do well to choose your next words carefully.”
A mouse before a cat. Or perhaps before a tiger. The servant clutched his shaking legs and prayed only that her rage would not turn toward him. She knew everything. She must know that he, as the Count’s subordinate, had acted according to the Count’s plans. Should he plead that he had only followed orders, or simply stay silent and step aside?
The dilemma did not last long. When Theodora took one step forward, the servant let out an undignified whimper and scrambled out of her path. The only reason she did not punish him immediately was because no sword rested in her hand.
“Hii… hiik.”
Leaving the servant behind as he squeaked like a frightened rodent, Theodora entered the mansion. No one tried to stop her. Quietly, yet without concealing her fury, she advanced. She climbed the stairs.
The Count’s newly built residence in the royal capital was ostentatiously luxurious. Her footsteps echoed down the corridor until the dining room, lit with crimson light, came into view.
Step. Step.
Before long, Theodora stood at the head of the long table, facing Leon Benning, who sat at the opposite end casually sipping wine.
“Sit.”
Was he pretending to be calm, or was he truly unmoved? Theodora ran her fingers across the tabletop as she studied his brazen demeanor.
“If you intend to cause a scene, at least do it downstairs.”
“You’ve grown rather fearful.”
Was he trying to provoke her? Leon Benning merely raised an eyebrow, as if to say she could interpret it however she wished. Theodora pulled out a chair and sat.
Leon Benning’s inorganic gaze pierced straight through her. She frowned slightly, finding the stare unpleasant.
“You, on the other hand, have become quite bold, my daughter.”
A full meal had already been prepared at her seat, waiting for her.
“Why have you come when I did not summon you?”
“I’m more curious why you would even ask that.”
“If this is about that pathetic former lover of yours, I have no intention of listening. Nor anything to say on the matter.”
Clang.
The sound of Theodora reflexively setting down her spoon shattered the dining room’s quiet and hurled a blizzard into the air. Even faced with an aura that would freeze anyone watching, Leon Benning did not so much as twitch an eyebrow. He simply swirled the red wine in his glass.
“…Are you still consumed by rage?”
This would be the last time she looked upon her father’s face. Theodora had decided to sever all ties—her bloodline, the life she had lived until now. At this final supper, there was only one thing she wished to say to Count Benning.
“You must already know that this rage is directed at you and this cursed house.”
No sword hung at her waist. Even so, Theodora lowered her hand beneath the table and gathered her killing intent, like a knight steeling himself before battle.
“How young you are, Theodora. Far too young.”
The Count’s voice was thick with feigned regret. Theodora’s lips twisted.
“How utterly shameless.”
The Count glanced at her. His daughter had grown far beyond what she had been before the incident three months ago. The commander who had performed heroic deeds in battle. Yet what mattered was not her public reputation.
“Those who look upward must be shameless, Theodora. And I have climbed high enough.”
“Are you still trying to lecture me?”
Her heart—once chaotic and on the verge of collapse—had grown through the battle with the Behemoth. Leon Benning clicked his tongue inwardly. The fact that she could now resist his gaze head-on was undoubtedly the result of that growth. It did not please him.
Theodora’s face shimmered beyond the dark red wine. Leon Benning set his glass down. At the same moment, Theodora rose from her seat. The food on her plate remained completely untouched.
“When you return, a mission order will be issued shortly.”
Theodora, who had already turned to leave, stopped mid-step.
“It would be wise not to meddle with our knight order again.”
“Why do you assume it concerns the Order?”
Theodora’s face flickered with momentary doubt before returning to its usual cold mask. Her expressionless face silently demanded an explanation, but Leon Benning offered none. The father receiving his daughter’s enemy-like gaze remained eerily calm.
“It would be best if you harbored no other thoughts regarding your knight order.”
“Have you become afraid?”
Even Theodora’s icy reply failed to rattle him.
“Consider it a warning.”
Leon Benning. Once the head of a mere regional martial house, he had risen to become Royal Chancellor through his own power. A man who had seized the royal palace by the sword and now stood atop the Magic Tower, gazing down upon the capital with absolute authority. The weight carried by his words three months ago and the weight they carried now were as different as heaven and earth. Even when those words were spoken to his only child.
It was no longer a conversation between father and daughter, but a confrontation between a kingdom’s hero and its greatest traitor. Between their clashing gazes, sparks of cold fire flew like frost.
Leon Benning wet his lips with wine. The sole reason Theodora had not openly sided with the king against him was likely the burden of the knight order she carried—and the existence of her vanished former lover.
“You will see him again, Theodora.”
And because he was not ignorant of what she might be thinking, Leon Benning added those final words. Yet they failed to halt her steps.
The chandelier flames trembled. Leon Benning’s displeasure slowly warped the atmosphere of the room.
“…Maxim… Apart.”
Crack.
A fracture ran along the rim of the glass, sending shards flying. The Count of Benning, who rarely revealed emotion, quickly reined in the aura that had slipped free. The flickering chandelier light steadied once more.
Should he have the man captured alive, or killed now while he still could? No. No. Killing could wait until the very end.
“Antoine.”
At Leon Benning’s murmur, a servant rushed to his side.
“You called, my lord?”
“I will go to the audience chamber.”
Leon Benning closed his eyes tightly. Thoughts, desires, and fury all rose like haze, then scattered on the wind and vanished.
“For what purpose, if I may ask…” the servant ventured.
“I must see His Highness the Second Prince.”
A knock on the door pulled Theodora from her reverie. She straightened her posture, cleared her throat, and spoke.
“Enter.”
The door opened to reveal a knight whose face had grown even more rugged, now marked by additional scars.
“Commander.”
“…Vice-Commander.”
Paola dragged over the chair Rione had occupied earlier and sat down. Despite the loss of so many comrades—some dead, some missing—his demeanor remained largely unchanged. With his usual lukewarm tone, he offered a routine greeting.
“We’re planning a large-scale equipment inspection. It would be best to dedicate tomorrow’s entire schedule to it.”
Theodora’s brows furrowed slightly. The words Leon Benning had spoken at that dinner resurfaced in her mind.
An order for a mission will be issued shortly.
“Is this because of the long-term mission?”
“Yes. It’s been roughly three months since No Man’s Land. It’s about time for a new assignment this quarter.”
“…Then it’s best we prepare in advance.”
Paola nodded. “The more preparation time, the better. I intend to replenish any worn or necessary equipment ahead of time.”
As he spoke, he fluttered the paper in his hand.
“What is that?”
“The equipment list. I thought you should review it.”
“We may need to assign a dedicated supply officer.”
Theodora took the document as she spoke. Paola chuckled and shook his head.
“It’s fine. The members help out quite a bit already.”
He glanced at her expression, as though he had something more to say.
“Is there something else?”
“Commander, about this banquet…”
“I’m not attending.”
Theodora’s answer was firm. Paola smiled awkwardly, as if he had expected it, and scratched his head.
“Even so… if you continue to antagonize them, there’s no telling what consequences you might face.”
Them. The faction that had filled the power vacuum in the palace during the Behemoth expedition.
Theodora sighed. “They would gain nothing by moving against me.”
Seeing her resolve, Paola shrugged helplessly. “Then we’ll send a proxy again this time.”
“Thank you, Vice-Commander.”
As the matter seemed settled, the door opened once more. Both Theodora and Paola turned to see Rione standing there with a troubled expression.
“Commander. Vice-Commander.”
“Rione?”
Rione glanced back toward the hallway. It appeared she was not alone.
“The royal personnel officer…”
Because of the long-term mission. Theodora pushed her complicated thoughts into a corner of her mind.
“Let him in.”
Before Rione could finish relaying the message, the royal personnel officer entered the commander’s office with a rigid posture.
“Good afternoon.”
The officer’s face was heavy with fatigue as he looked at the assembled knights. Paola rose from his seat.
“No, please remain seated. I only came to deliver a brief notice along with an official document.”
The Raven Knight Order is hereby ordered to cooperate with the Royal Palace Guard in escort duties and the management of royal events.
This assignment places the Order under the 3rd Royal Guard, serving directly under His Highness the Second Prince.
At the mention of the Royal Palace Guard, confusion flickered across the knights’ faces.
“The royal palace…? Does that mean we’re being placed under the guard unit?” Paola asked.
The personnel officer nodded. “Yes. Specifically, the 3rd Royal Guard—that is…”
At his next words, the knights’ confusion twisted into open dismay.
“Under His Highness the Second Prince.”