Chapter 41
Chapter 41
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 41
Chapter Title: Parts
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Despite the objections of his retainers, the Duke attended every single subjugation battle.
To see Swordmaster Sir Cheokjun.
The colossal transformation the knight had shown on the first day was etched deeply into his heart.
'Armor in such an inefficient shape... likely to hinder combat...'
The angular, jagged protrusions were clearly not optimized for battle.
Yet there was something that made his heart race and his blood boil.
And in the final subjugation battle.
The Duke's patience was finally rewarded.
-I am Arcana's Sword, Mr. Cheokjun-kyung!
A gigantic form over 80 meters tall.
A roar that tore the heavens and shook the earth.
Every time the giant robot swung its Aura Blade, the monsters were sliced apart helplessly.
It had the force to cleave a mountain in a single stroke, the majesty to split the sea.
His heart felt like it might burst.
Clenching his fists, the Duke muttered to himself.
'If only I could make Sir Cheokjun my knight, there would be nothing to fear!'
After the subjugation ended, I had dinner with the Duke that evening.
"Thanks to Arcana, we repelled the monster horde with minimal losses. I offer my sincere gratitude."
"What borders exist before a monster subjugation?"
This should have stacked up plenty of favor.
Time to lure him out of the Empire's shadow into the cozy embrace of my kingdom.
'Maybe later I can demand the Hessin Duchy from the Emperor in exchange for Windeler's ransom?'
With no Swordmasters left, the Emperor might just agree.
I learned about the Empire's situation from the Duke.
"A massive earth dragon monster turned Swordmaster Caron's territory into a wasteland. Not a single survivor."
The Duke trembled with faint fear.
"All those territory folk and livestock vanished without a scrap of flesh left, fueling all sorts of grim rumors."
"Looks like scavenging lesser monsters cleaned up the bodies."
"That's what everyone's thinking."
I subtly asked about Trafford and Windeler, but the Duke knew nothing.
'They must have sealed lips tight since announcing the loss of two Swordmasters at once would be disastrous.'
To silence that many knights and mages—the Emperor's skill was no joke.
What ruthless methods did he use?
"Your Grace, the long peace is fading, and an era of great chaos approaches.
Powerful monsters will keep emerging, invading human lands and threatening the peace."
"Seeing the massive monster horde assaults on Caron Duchy and our duchy, it does seem like something ominous is stirring across the continent, as Your Highness says."
"In times like these, neighboring nations must cooperate closely."
"Well said."
Before the dinner ended, I planted a spark of doubt in the Duke's mind.
"The Empire's Swordmasters must have taken heavy damage from that earth dragon variant that massacred Caron Duchy.
Hessin faces such a crisis, yet no aid comes."
"Hm, it's delicate, but recovery seems to be taking quite a while."
"Perhaps it's more than a simple injury... Ah, pretend you didn't hear that."
The Duke's expression grew grave.
'Did they die in the Caron territory subjugation?' He must have suspected as much himself.
I just added a touch of certainty: 'I think so too.'
The final day.
We got ready for bed properly.
But Object was in her underwear, no pajamas.
"Professor? Where are your pajamas?"
"They were torn this morning. It seems Your Highness removed them rather roughly."
"My apologies. I have poor sleeping habits."
"It's fine. Your Highness's close protection is paramount. We can't lose those special eyes."
Suddenly, Canelian fidgeted and started taking off her pajamas.
"Duchess?"
"W-well, you take them off while sleeping anyway. I don't want my favorite pajamas ripped, so better to sleep without."
Her blushing face was adorable.
The complete opposite of Object's calm, unashamed demeanor.
'Object was flustered the first time I touched her.'
Now she's used to it.
Canelian, however, seemed to build no resistance to the shame.
Canelian was now wearing bikini armor (tube top bikini) instead of underwear.
No need to change or shower—convenient.
Truly a legendary shield armor that handles frontline hygiene for pretty heroines.
'One side real underwear, the other basically underwear tube top bikini.'
Going to bed like this felt oddly stimulating.
Sleepless, we chatted idly, staring at the ceiling.
"I looked around the palace, but no artifacts or objects in sight."
"No surprise there."
"Still, I spotted one or two Chronicle (C)-grade artifacts. The Duke seemed oblivious."
"Did you pocket them?"
"As if. Would a prince stoop to stealing Chronicle-grade now?"
Then Object took my hand.
I flinched slightly as she wrote on my palm.
「Would you steal them if they were Legendary Mythic-grade?」
I chuckled and wrote back on her palm.
「Of course.」
"It's been nearly two months since I last saw my sister."
"She went to Caron territory and straight to Hessin for support after."
"Emma says she's obsessed with growing mana herbs and loving it. Seeing her happy eases my mind."
"With that relic-grade artifact boosting health by +10%, no more worries for her."
It'd be especially helpful for Ceres, whose mana circuits were damaged young.
I'll visit when I return home.
She's my fiancée publicly; I've neglected her with my busyness.
Chatting verbally with Canelian, finger-writing with Object.
Before long, sleep came.
The next morning.
"…."
I woke dumbfounded.
No idea where to start fixing this mess.
"This damn habit…."
I gathered the scattered underwear top and bottom, redressing the naked Object.
Found the slingshot string thong armor by the bed and put it back on Canelian.
Fortunately, Canelian didn't wake until reverting to tube top mode.
'Living together daily, these touches are white noise now.'
Soon Canelian rubbed her eyes open, looked down, and said,
"S-s-see? S-sleeping without p-pajamas means Y-Your Highness d-didn't t-touch."
"I've thought it over—better to keep wearing pajamas."
"Sh-shall we? O-okay, I'll d-do that."
"Duchess, you're stuttering…."
"I-it's c-cold. S-Swordmasters' b-body temp d-drops in the m-morning."
Was that a Dragon Defense trait?
'Submarine setting?'
Before leaving, the Duke NPC finally backstabbed me.
"For the immense merits of the mighty Swordmaster Sir Cheokjun, I bestow this reward."
He'd granted Windeler a massive reward without consulting me.
Objectively, Windeler earned it big.
Expected, no need to consult me.
But….
'If you're giving that much, at least check with me for the monarch's face.'
He gave me 20,000 gold for support, but 500,000 to Windeler.
I shot a silent glare, but he brazenly kept his composure.
'Trying to poach my slave right in front of me?'
No wonder—forced sleep mode, yet someone kept pestering Windeler.
Secret favor-building failed, so last-minute confession before parting.
In my presence.
"Sir Cheokjun. His Grace honors your feats with this reward. Offer thanks."
"I am Arcana's Sword, Mr. Cheokjun-kyung."
The Duke just smiled contentedly.
'Not truly upset.'
How impressed was he by the giant robot to pull this?
Not mad, grateful even.
But showing no displeasure at all would seem odd, so I played along lightly.
'I'll spend the gold well, Duke of Hessin.'
Empire NPCs always backstab passively.
Afraid I'd block it if consulted?
Arcana Royal Palace.
Returning to his quarters, Windeler slumped into a chair.
'Empty. My chest feels hollow.'
A void filling his gut.
He knew the cause.
'I felt like a heavenly knight blessed by the gods...!'
Overlooking the trembling monster horde as a giant robot, slicing them effortlessly with one swing—that omnipotence.
Trifling adoration as an Imperial Swordmaster paled against that exhilarating addiction.
'What meaning does "robot" hold?'
Arcana, the continent's oldest nation, ruled by dragon descendants.
Perhaps "robot" was dragon tongue.
Meaning a supremely powerful knight?
Windeler stared blankly at the chest before him, holding 25,000 gold coins.
Salary from the Prime Minister.
5% of the 500,000 from Hessin Duke.
Windeler once prized wealth.
Yet surprisingly, even this fortune didn't excite him.
He sprang up.
Donned a hooded full-body robe, concealing himself completely.
His shown loyalty paid off—the Prince finally allowed solo outings.
As long as he stayed hidden, no need for beggar-knight guise.
Robe-clad, chest on back, Windeler left his quarters.
Heading to the capital's famed smithy.
With a low-ranking noble assigned to accompany him on his outing.
Days later, at the smithy.
Windeler, cloaked head to toe, inspected his commissioned piece amid the boasting smith's chatter.
"Never seen such an odd order in my life. A 2-meter rectangular shield with a sword compartment inside."
"Great knights need great shields."
"Great knight? What... Oh, forgive me! I spoke out of turn."
The smith thought he'd offended the slightly smallish middle-aged knight and apologized hastily.
'Oops, never mention height to short knights...'
But the suspiciously wealthy short knight showed no reaction.
The knight sheathed his sword in the compartment of the shield—30cm taller than him.
Strapped to left forearm, sword inside.
Block ahead, then suddenly draw and slash forward—repeating the motion.
"Oh…."
A captivating sight.
A pose stirring the soul.
Alternating defense and attack with shield on left forearm.
Short stature, yet fiercely aggressive and solid.
Arms crossed, scrutinizing, the smith spoke up.
"Um... Sir Knight. But your left hand's free?"
"Free?"
A glint flashed from the robe.
The smith pointed to the empty left hand with shield strapped.
"Hold a crossbow bolt there—right hand sword, left alternates shield and bolts?"
"Make it now."
"Yes sir! Right away!"
"Gold's no object."
The smith grabbed tools, humming unwittingly.
For some reason, he felt great.