A Lord Worthy of Trust
Countless boots thundered across the parade ground.
Knights swung their swords in unison to the drill commands, and the clash of steel against steel never ceased. Sticky sweat and the heavy stench of iron. Ragged breathing and fighting spirit scorched the air, even out in the open.
"So this is the order that guards the imperial family, huh."
Having only ever dealt with trash nobles day in and day out, I'd secretly looked down on them. But seeing the intensity of their training, I could understand why they were called one of Lugnica's premier fighting forces. Honestly, I'd gained a bit of new respect.
"I could subdue everyone here in roughly fifteen hundred seconds."
"...Huh?"
"Furthermore, she is very pretty and adorable. A perfect maid like this deserves praise, wouldn't you agree?"
The perfect whatever-her-name-was, walking beside me, looked up at me with eyes brimming with expectation. I had no idea where she'd developed this competitive streak, but the attempt was good. The venue was the problem.
"A shame. If you'd just lowered your voice, it would've been perfect."
"...Half-hearted excuses will not bend my resolve."
"No, no, I'm saying it was your voice! A little grating on the back, sure, but still?"
Elis froze, and only then noticed the stares around us. A few of the knights who'd overheard were shooting us distinctly uncomfortable looks. I let out a small sigh.
"Social life truly is difficult. I merely wished to receive praise from my master."
It was something like Elis's one weakness. Sharp as she was with work, her social skills were so poor that even among the other maids she was an outsider. Honestly, the girl needed to get out more. The consequence of insisting on staying glued to my side whenever nothing special was happening.
"It is entirely your fault, Master."
"I'm the easiest target, aren't I? I told you there's no need to follow the clone around."
"The original Master does nothing but sleep in his room. Boredom can kill a man."
You think I sleep because I *want* to? The Four Directions Divine Shadow is passive, that's why. Four bodies, one head. Every judgment and movement of every body has to be processed by a single mind. You want me to watch right and left at the same time? Even now I was monitoring the Administrator's work and the Chief Justice's work in real time, so cutting down to one body was a necessary evil.
"And there is a clear reason why, of the three clones, this one followed the Commander-in-Chief."
"Which is?"
"As you know, the Vice Commander we're meeting today is—"
Mid-sentence, Elis yanked my body hard to the side. What the—? The moment I startled, a crash erupted in front of us.
An ambush! Elis had blocked a man who'd lunged at us out of nowhere!
"Whoa... what is this, are we fighting a monster?"
Elis physically repelled him and his unpleasant smile, drawing her sword from its sheath.
"Do you know who this is, and still do this?"
"I do, which is why you should calm down. See? I even dropped the wooden sword."
"A rather poor last testament."
As the man raised both arms in surrender, the legacy of the Sword Saint lunged at him. The blink of an eye—maybe faster. Elis closed the distance in an instant, her blade flying toward the man's neck.
Shwaaaaak—!
"Elis, stop!"
"...!"
The whistle of wind through steel cut off. The man, who'd been smiling stiffly, broke out in a cold sweat at the touch against his throat, and Elis, who'd been glaring at him, slowly withdrew her blade. A moment later and his head would have left his shoulders. It had truly come down to a hair's breadth.
"Don't you think that was a bit much for a welcoming greeting, Vice Commander Ian Astrea?"
"An honor to be recognized. Your Majesty— no wait, Supreme Commander."
Sky-blue hair and sharp, slit eyes. A delinquent's loose, thuggish face. No one could have matched the prior intelligence better.
"What exactly were you thinking, pulling a stunt like that?"
"Wanted to size up your capabilities. A Supreme Commander will be heading to the front lines plenty, so I need to know what I'm working with to guard you properly."
So this lunatic was just now testing the Emperor?
The moment I registered the absurdity, a secretary-looking woman went pale and thrust a handkerchief at Ian. He declined it and pressed his own hand to his neck to stop the bleeding.
"I'll decline. The military will take responsibility for failing to protect the Emperor."
"...Take responsibility?"
"You know. The one who fought bravely against the bear and returned to us in glory."
...Now I remembered. Come to think of it, the military had borne the full weight of responsibility for failing to protect the previous Emperor, Cain. Every knight in the escort was stripped of rank without exception, and some of the soldiers were even executed. An absurd affair no matter how many times I replayed it. I wanted to drag them out of their graves and kill them all over again.
"Whatever the reason, it ends the moment you raise a weapon against the Emperor."
"If it displeased you, I'll apologize formally. I'll take whatever punishment is necessary."
"..."
"But I swear on the gods, there was no other intent. If that maid of yours hadn't stopped me, I'd have pulled the blade at the last second. So let me bear the responsibility alone."
The man who'd been grinning loosely the entire time bowed his head with a serious expression. I glanced at Elis, but she showed no particular reaction. Which meant no killing intent. Which meant, at the very least, what he was saying now was the truth.
I ran the numbers quickly.
"Fine. I'll let it slide. I'm as magnanimous as I am handsome, after all."
"Oh? You're far more generous than I expected. Gwaek—!?"
The secretary who'd smacked Ian on the head bowed repeatedly, apologizing for her mortal sin. Whatever his attitude, his reasoning wasn't unreasonable, and no real harm had been done. Above all, this man was an asset for the reforms ahead—a hand and foot of the military. If the Supreme Commander, me, set the direction and the method, the Vice Commander was the one who actually reshaped the army to match. If there was no malice, there was no need to kill him on the spot.
—Not, of course, that I trusted him.
"Just remember one thing, Knight Astrea."
"Huh?"
"There won't be a second time."
"!!!"
Ian Astrea. This man carried suspicions of rebellion—of plotting nothing less than the overthrow of the state.
"Well, we've all made our introductions. Shall we begin the meeting?"
The military conference room barracks. As I was escorted inside, the woman I'd taken for a secretary—Adjutant Diana—served us tea. Since we hadn't come to chat, I pointed immediately at the armor displayed along the back wall of the chamber.
"First, that."
"The armor? What's wrong with the knights' armor?"
"Collect it piece by piece and strip off every one of those shoulder puffs."
Ian, mid-sip, froze at the abrupt demand.
"You mean the pauldrons? You want me to remove perfectly good pauldrons?"
"If you think *those* are perfectly good, I'm genuinely sorry for you. All that weight does is eat stamina, with zero practicality."
Slim-cut armor that showed off the lines of the body. The massive shoulder puffs called pauldrons weighed over nine or ten kilograms each, even on the conservative end. Anyone could see they were fashion pieces with practicality thrown to the dogs.
"I observed every single knight training in that armor. The intensity is brutal, sure, but for superhumans wielding mana, the drain is far too fast."
"..."
"Twenty kilograms combined even at the low estimate, so of course it is. Why would anyone march onto a battlefield wearing a walking disadvantage like that?"
Ian blinked blankly a few times, then smirked.
"To intimidate the enemy. The bigger you look, the scarier you are."
"Numbers can project intimidation just fine. Lugnica itself is terror, to begin with. Engraving the Lugnica crest on their chests would work far better."
"...Hm~"
Beyond that, I had to sit through more lunacy—helmets being optional to preserve the dignity of decorated knights, military funds subsidizing the purchase of parade uniforms. Why on earth did these insane romance-fantasy idiots mistake armor for fashion items? Did they not value their lives?
Listening to it made me angry, and talking about it made me angry—but surprisingly, Ian offered no counterargument at all. He simply answered what was asked and listened. Not a trace of ulterior motive showed.
"I have a rough idea what Your Majesty wants. But does it *have* to change?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Lugnica is the strongest as it stands. Countless wars fought, countless victories proving it. So why change it *on purpose*?"
"Because I decided to."
"..."
"From now on, dying of stupidity in my army is illegal."
"..."
"And for the knights not to die of stupidity, I have to be smart. Fortunately, I'm not *just* a pretty face, so you can trust me."
Soldiers are the sword and shield that guard the nation. When such soldiers die, naturally the nation bears the cost—and that means I bear the cost. Unacceptable. Dying of stupidity, dying to calamities—either way. I'd be rolling in my grave among my grandchildren while enjoying a golden age of peace.
"Khek... khekhek... KAHAHAHA!!!"
Ian, who'd had his head bowed with shoulders shaking for a moment, burst into roaring laughter. So hard he seemed to be suffocating. So hard he had to wipe away the tears trickling from his eyes. He howled.
"Ahh~ sorry, sorry. You're more entertaining than I expected, Your Majesty. My apologies."
"I *am* pretty entertaining. So? Doing it or not?"
"Obviously, all of it."
...Huh?
"Doing it?"
"Following the Supreme Commander's orders is my job, isn't it? No reason to refuse."
There was every reason to refuse. He'd clashed constantly with the previous Commander-in-Chief in their power struggles. Honestly, I'd expected at least one round of posturing from him, and instead he'd agreed with disconcerting ease.
"We're done here, right? If you have any other tasks or orders, call on me anytime."
"You shouldn't throw the word 'anytime' around so lightly."
"Anytime. If it's your command, Your Majesty."
"..."
Ian waved his hand airily, and Diana bowed and withdrew. In the quieted conference room, only the ticking of a clock remained. Elis, who had approached at some point, refilled my empty cup.
"What is your assessment?"
Good question. He hadn't been the least bit hostile, and the power play I'd expected never came. Aside from his thuggish attitude and face, he seemed far removed from the word "rebellion." I replayed the meeting with Ian once more, then reached a conclusion.
"He'll do it. Let's leave him be for now."
There was no need to pass judgment on a first meeting. As long as I couldn't peer into a man's head, I'd simply keep watching.
"I can't live like this because of that man!"
Having just finished rare overtime and slipped into the bath, Ian got the full force of everything Diana had been bottling up.
"That's the Blood Emperor we're talking about! The mad Emperor who beheaded all three heads of state! And you just went and swung a sword at him!?"
"Haha! Tell me about it. I never dreamed you'd be toting around a monster like that. I saw my whole life flash before my eyes."
Even now, recalling it gave me chills. That expression, that killing intent, that skill. Every last bit of it was closer to beast than human. She'd looked nothing like a woman who could be followed by anyone—and the measure of an Emperor who had tamed such a creature showed itself plainly.
Diana raged on, insisting this was no laughing matter. Exhausted by the tirade, Ian let out a sigh.
"Honestly... so? How was it?"
"How was what?"
"Your first impression. You'll be following this person from now on—do you think it'll be all right?"
"A lord lacking nothing in worthiness of trust. That was my first impression."
Everything had exceeded expectations. The monster maid, the killing intent behind that warning about there being no second time. What had startled him most of all, though, were the reform proposals and directives. Problems of the military that Diana herself had needed years of service to grasp, that man had identified within moments of becoming Supreme Commander. Either he'd always been deeply invested in the military, or he was simply brilliant. Almost certainly one of the two.
"That's a very high assessment, isn't it? You bared your teeth at the previous Commander-in-Chief every chance you got."
"Because that bastard was garbage. We could have saved far more lives, and all he ever spouted was budget this and budget that."
Several of the reform proposals Dante had put forward were ones Ian himself had once advocated. All had been rejected, for none other reason than 'we're already the strongest, why change anything.' That was why he'd laughed at the answer. Because the rebuttal the previous Commander-in-Chief had never managed to answer back then, Dante had demolished so effortlessly.
There was no reason not to follow him.
"Forget the dead man. Steel yourself—finishing all the homework His Majesty assigned means overtime for the foreseeable future."
"Well... that doesn't really bother me..."
"Something on your mind, then?"
Diana, hesitating as if the words were hard to say, finally forced them out.
"Will you... tell His Majesty? About it?"
"Of course I will. The only reason I attached myself to that garbage Commander-in-Chief was to meet a human of Lawrence."
Ian's expression went cold as he rose from the bath. He walked to the shelf and picked up the badge resting on it. A relic of the dead. Proof of the Oswald Knight Order—men who should have been called heroes.
"Next week is the new knights' first patrol. That day, we'll let Lawrence know that we were here."