Nicholas Reveals Rust's Identity!
"What do you suppose the Center of the Six Horns is?"
I asked Psyche.
She tilted her head as she stepped down from the ship.
"Hyde, this again? Well… I already told you earlier, I have no idea what that means. Is it some kind of metaphor? Hmm—. Still no idea."
Psyche didn't know.
Neither did Milione Archibold.
"Isn't it some filthy pagan symbol or something?"
A pagan symbol, huh.
It sounded plausible enough, and yet somehow completely wrong.
I'd poked around in every direction trying to learn about the Center of the Six Horns, and I'd come up with almost nothing.
Why was I investigating it?
Because of the bastard who knew my true identity!
Someone who supposedly knew everything in the world?
Someone who could know who I really was!
I simply could not tolerate the existence of a creature like that!
I'd rather it turn out to be a lie — I just wanted the truth laid bare once and for all.
If that bastard went around spreading rumors like, "Rust's true identity is actually Hyde," my life would be finished in every conceivable way!
The Holy Grail was already shattered. There was no way back to the past. So I had to uncover that bastard's identity as fast as possible, hunt him down, and deal with him by any means necessary.
I turned to Lucy as she disembarked.
"Miss Lucy, was there any other hint besides the Center of the Six Horns? And how is your condition?"
"No other hints! And ever since the fire, I've felt incredibly refreshed! My chest always used to feel so heavy, but I've never felt this light before! Like I've been reborn!"
"I see."
"Hyde, it really was you who healed me! With that hypnosis treatment! Hyde really is my prince! The fairy-tale prince who rode in on a white horse to rescue me from that island!"
Whoosh—.
Lucy threw her arms around me.
Psyche's face twisted at the sight.
"L-Lucy! You mustn't cling to a man so freely! And Hyde is my husband! Let go of him at once!"
"Then I'll become Hyde's wife too! Then clinging is fine, right?"
Lucy.
She was a girl with the fresh, unspoiled air of a high-school student.
Barely eighteen.
Whether it was because she'd only just come of age, or because she'd spent her whole life locked away on that island, she was either pure-hearted or blunt — I couldn't decide which.
"Hyde! I like you!"
Lucy said she liked me.
But I knew perfectly well this was a kind of misunderstanding.
Lucy had been locked away her entire life. The men she'd ever met, myself included, could be counted on one hand. Given the circumstances, it was only natural she'd formed a certain rapport with me and felt close to me.
She was simply mistaking that feeling for romantic attraction.
Milione clicked her tongue.
"That crazy bitch! The second she sees a handsome guy in Veneto, her eyes are gonna spin right out of her head. The kingdom is crawling with men cooler and more impressive than Hyde."
It was a cold assessment.
But a common one.
A girl who fell for her tutor in high school goes off to university, meets countless men, and completely forgets the teacher ever existed.
If Lucy spent enough time in the mainland kingdom — places like Veneto — her eyes would open wider and her standards for men would rise.
So.
There was no need to take Lucy's words to heart right now.
I decided on a gentle refusal.
"Lucy, if that feeling is still the same one year after you've left island life behind, then I'll consider marriage."
"Really…!? Oh, yay…! One year! It'll fly by! Three hundred sixty-five days!"
Lucy bounced and danced with her hands still bound in cuffs.
Psyche trembled at the sight.
"Hyde, is that true? That after one year you'll take Lucy as your wife! Does that mean you intend to take Miss Lucy as a second wife?"
"Don't worry. As Milli said, the kingdom is full of handsome, capable men. And Miss Lucy is beautiful enough to be called one of the Three Flowers."
Lucy's flaw had been her apparent mental instability.
But whether it was escaping the island or my hypnosis treatment actually working, her condition had improved dramatically. She no longer lied, and she no longer pulled stunts just to get attention.
At least for now.
If this kept up, Lucy would receive marriage proposals from every man under the sun, just as Milione and Psyche had, and her nose would lift right up into the air.
"What are the odds Miss Lucy will still like me a year from now?"
"Do you think so? But Hyde, you have a unique charm unlike any man I've ever known. If Miss Lucy, having fallen for that charm, still holds onto her feelings a year from now…"
Psyche trembled with a faintly uneasy look.
Milione Archibold clicked her tongue at the two of them.
"You two are ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. So where the hell is this church official who was supposed to meet us? I need to get in a carriage already so I don't have to watch this nauseating display!"
Milione was in a foul mood.
She hadn't been able to vent her rage as Las for the past few days, so she snapped at the slightest thing. The moment I so much as talked to Psyche, she got prickly like this.
Nasty little thing.
Clank, clank—.
Just then, armored soldiers approached us.
They wore black cloaks, and the sight of them was quite imposing.
"Those must be Sir Roland's Black Knights!"
Psyche's face lit up.
Sir Roland's Black Knights.
I knew of them as well.
"You mean the black-cloaked knights led by the Black Knight Roland?"
"That's right. They're said to be former villains who repented, and no one is more skilled at hunting heretics and crushing pagans. Besides Sir Roland himself, there are many formidable knights among them."
"Psyche Agarpe — I'm honored you know of us. I am Nicholas, the Black Knight assigned to this matter."
Someone cut into our conversation.
Clank—.
He was a man with a massive spear strapped across his back.
Late twenties, perhaps?
"I serve as Sir Roland's lieutenant, and I am the second son of the Hastur Viscountcy. It's a shameful past, but I was once also the leader of the Black Hand bandit gang."
He wore armor engraved with a wolf. His cloak was black wolf-pelt, and his hair hung long and black — not unlike my own.
The cross hanging at his throat was silver.
But it was so worn that it proved he was a veteran of many battles.
His face was handsome.
Truly the look of a bandit chief — sly and dangerous.
A gigolo bandit.
That was my assessment.
The nuns of Grande Nunnery, still bound in cuffs, began to whisper among themselves.
"Is that Nicholas?"
"Kyaa! He's really handsome! Just like the rumors!"
"But doesn't he look a little dangerous? Like a bad boy."
"Idiot, don't you know bad boys are better?"
Kyaa-kyaa-kyaa—.
The nuns were making a racket for a bunch of prisoners.
Bad boys being popular — same here as in the twenty-first century.
Nice-guy types like me always get the short end of the stick.
Then Black Knight Nicholas dropped to one knee and held something out to Psyche.
"Miss Psyche — a gift for you, beautiful and pure. A lily. It suits you perfectly."
Swoosh—.
Nicholas produced a lily from a hand that had been empty a moment before.
Sticky fingers, just as you'd expect from a former bandit!
Psyche stared in surprise.
"Is that magic? Where did you just pull that flower from?"
Pulling a flower from your hand is a basic sleight of hand.
I could do that all day.
As I was thinking that, Psyche shook her head.
"It's a lovely flower, but I must decline. I have a husband."
"Is that so. You're the first woman who's ever refused my flower. Quite a shock."
Swoosh—.
Nicholas tucked the flower back into his coat.
He looked a little put out, which was deeply satisfying.
Did he think Psyche was some ordinary woman who'd fall for a pretty face?
I was pleased she'd chastely refused the flower — and yet, somehow, a restless feeling stirred in me as well.
What was it?
The flower.
Yes. It was definitely the flower.
Nicholas, you son of a bitch.
You just gave a flower to a married woman?
A flower is a plant's genitalia.
It's a plant's dick and pussy, in other words.
And you just casually hand that to a married woman?
When a man gives a woman a flower, it's the same as saying "pussy." And if the woman accepts it, it's the same as answering "dick."
Sex is the meeting of dick and pussy.
The sparks that fly from that friction!
Therefore, the act of a man and woman exchanging flowers is sex!
Yes.
Nicholas had just propositioned Psyche for sex!
Thank God she refused!
This lecherous bastard Nicholas was clearly a wicked man through and through.
Black Knight.
Even the name sounded sinister.
The more I thought about it, the angrier I got.
This dog of a son of a bitch!
He wasn't a bad boy — he was a degenerate, a pure beast!
He might still be a real bandit!
I'd find the evidence somehow and have him prosecuted.
As I was thinking that, Milione clicked her tongue.
"What, playing favorites? Why didn't I get one?"
Milione grumbled.
I pinched her side hard as I answered.
"Milli, you hate flowers."
"Well, yeah! But how did you know I hate flowers, Hyde? Did you dig up dirt on me? Huh? Why?"
Milione let out a long, suspicious hum.
How did I know?
Because Las hated flowers, that's how.
Las preferred chewing flowers to smelling them.
Chewing flowers.
She really was a complete lunatic.
"Very well! From this point forward, in Sir Roland's absence, I, Nicholas, his lieutenant, will take command of this case! Soldiers — transport the prisoners to the Grand Temple of Veneto!"
"…Hyde!"
Lucy made a slightly tearful face.
I gave her a light wave.
"Sister Lucy, nothing will happen. Just stay quiet and behave. Abbess Midnar — I'll leave Miss Lucy in your care for a while."
"Hyde, I'd do that even if you didn't ask. I couldn't protect Emma, but Lucy — I'll protect her no matter what. Even if I have to tear that bastard Gregory's head off with my bare hands."
That strict, foul-tempered old woman wasn't calling me a greenhorn anymore.
Well. Of course she wasn't.
Veneto.
Besides the chapels, there stood a building called the Grand Temple.
"What a magnificent place!"
Psyche marveled.
The towering columns were certainly impressive.
It looked like something you'd find among the temples of Rome or along the Greek Mediterranean.
Then Knight Nicholas spoke.
"This building was constructed a full five hundred years ago. The founding king of the Unizer royal line built this place and entrusted it to the Orleans family. Now our Black Knights are charged with its protection."
"That's remarkable."
Psyche nodded in admiration.
Nicholas puffed out his chest with pride.
"I dare say no one can enter this place uninvited. Not even Rust — the one who burned down the Grand Cathedral of Fierenzo, which was under the charge of Sir Parmas and Archbishop Archibold."
The security was heavy, true enough.
At least ten knights in black cloaks.
More than twice that many soldiers.
You could have called it a barracks instead of a temple and no one would have blinked.
But the man was wrong.
It was only right that I correct him.
"Rust is no ordinary criminal — he is the Devil himself. If he appears, Nicholas, you will soil yourself like a pissing dog and flee begging for your life. I, Hyde, guarantee it. Even if you bring that Roland fellow along, you will not be enough to stop Rust."
"Hmm? Are you belittling my superior, Sir Roland? Hyde — I've been quite eager to meet the man you are, but it seems your judgment is worthless."
Black Knight Nicholas frowned.
Milione, who had been yawning as if the temple bored her to tears, put in a word of her own.
"Since when do Hyde and I agree on something? Rust — that man is a monster. He violated me, burned Archbishop Coramdeo alive, and brought Archbishop Archibold to ruin. You really think you can do anything about him? Don't you know he burned down Grande Nunnery too?"
No — Rust didn't kill Archbishop Coramdeo.
That bastard is still alive.
He's on trial.
Then Psyche spoke up as well.
"Sir Nicholas, I can see you're an excellent and formidable knight, but you shouldn't underestimate Rust. That man is… extraordinarily vicious and wicked. He's complete human garbage!"
Human garbage?
Psyche.
Are you badmouthing your husband in front of another man right now?
How dare you slander me as human garbage!
This is cheating!
As I was thinking that, Nicholas burst out laughing — ha-ha-ha-ha.
He laughed so long and hard that people nearby turned to look, then wiped a tear from the corner of his eye with a black-gloved hand and said:
"Everyone thinks that way, and that's exactly why you fail to see the essence. You're flinching at shadows. As for Rust — Sir Roland and I have already identified that man's weakness. And his true identity as well."
What?
I was badly shaken.
They'd identified Rust's weakness and true identity?
That shouldn't be possible—
Suddenly Lucy's story about her mother flashed through my mind.
The one at the Center of the Six Horns.
Could that person be Black Knight Nicholas? Roland?
Or someone connected to them?
Milione asked urgently.
"You know Rust's true identity?! Is that real? How?! Who is he?!"
"His true identity was a man no one would ever suspect. And he was very, very close to us. He toyed with us and mocked us from right under our noses. The darkest place is always beneath the lamp."
Thump, thump, thump—.
My heartbeat thundered in my ears.
Hah—.
As I took a steadying breath with my vision swimming, Black Knight Nicholas finished his sentence as cleanly as a single stroke of a knife through a fish.
"According to Sir Roland, Rust's true identity is none other than Archbishop Archibold. And I agree."
"……."
You son of a bitch.
I feel like an idiot for getting so tense.
Milione was equally stunned.
"What kind of bullshit is that?"
"To be precise, not Archbishop Archibold himself, but his underling. A criminal who appeared in the Durgien region. A figure who emerged alongside the death of Oscar Archibold. And now that Archbishop Archibold has been demoted, he's vanished once more—. And his gift for speech is considerable. That oratory must have been passed down from Archbishop Archibold himself, don't you think?"
Hearing it laid out like that, it almost made a certain amount of sense.
Idiot.
Then Nicholas continued.
"Before long, we will capture that man with our own hands. We've received a great deal of intelligence placing Rust here in Palchea. Miss Psyche — if we succeed in capturing him, will you accept my flower then?"
Nicholas, you bastard.
So you really are after Psyche.
Bees swarming a flower is only natural, but Psyche has so much popularity it's becoming a problem.
Should I put a hijab or a burqa on her face?
"Hyde."
Psyche looked at me with a troubled expression.
As if asking, What should I do?
I decided to answer on her behalf.
"Very well. If you truly succeed in capturing Rust, I will permit Psyche to accept your flower. But you would do well never to let your guard down. Otherwise, we may end up laying flowers on your grave instead."
Nicholas — I'll personally decorate your grave with a bouquet.
You adulterous bastard, lusting after another man's wife!
In the court of my heart, you are guilty of adultery!!!!
And Roland, for keeping a man like this as his lieutenant, is clearly a wicked man too — death sentence confirmed!!!