065 - Hyde Clashes with Nicholas! #1
The capital city of Royal Road.
A city founded long ago by the founding king anointed by God. The founding king, it was said, had possessed neither aura, nor magic, nor even holy power—he had been nothing more than an utterly ordinary shepherd. Yet he had been chosen by God, conquered no fewer than seven kingdoms, and established the Unizer royal house.
Unizer.
It meant “the one anointed by God.” He had been destined to become king of all humankind, and his descendants had reigned as kings of humanity for generations after him.
But from what I had read in the books, their magnificent founding history had been rendered meaningless when the entire bloodline was thoroughly exterminated in the war twenty years ago. The records of that time were well preserved in the library of House Agarpe, who had intended to remain the final guardians of the Unizer line right up until their betrayal.
Women, the elderly, children—none had been spared. They had been trampled and slaughtered without mercy, and the five-hundred-year unity of the Allied Kingdom had begun to crack the moment it lost its center, the “king.”
Humankind had now raised a king of its own.
Pope Arud Gregory II.
He was that man.
And so a question had taken root in my mind.
The one who stands at the center of the six horns.
He was supposed to mean “the king of humanity,” yet the throne now stood empty.
“His Holiness the Pope of Barakan cannot sit upon the throne of Royal Road, can he?”
At my question, Fride paused while folding the map and looked at me. Her face and eyes were hidden behind the black widow’s veil, yet I felt a distinct gaze. Or at least, I believed I did.
“That is correct. The throne of Royal Road was promised by God to the Unizer bloodline. Now that they have vanished, no one may sit upon it.”
Just as I thought!
A wave of pure delight washed through me. It was as good as confirmation that the king of humanity no longer existed. There was no one in the world who sat at the center of the six horns!
Which meant no one could possibly know my true identity!
It felt as if a long-standing indigestion had finally cleared; my chest lightened at once.
Excellent. Absolutely excellent!
“Let us speak of Rust now. Maiden Psyche, we require your account—you who saw him closest of all. If you know anything about that man, leave nothing out.”
At Fride’s words, my beloved wife Psyche sank into thought.
Hmm—Psyche thinking.
“His face was hidden behind a mask, but from what I could see, his height was… at least six cheok… in modern units, around 183 centimeters.”
“One hundred eighty-three centimeters. Quite tall. That will be useful for identifying him. Your husband, Sir Hyde, is also tall—would you say they are similar?”
What the fuck?
Why is the arrow suddenly flying at me?
Psyche nodded at once.
“Yes! He was about the same height as Hyde.”
“Oh-ho. Sir Hyde, it may be a bother, but could you stand for a moment? It would help me form a rough mental image.”
She wants me to stand up?
My heart pounded at the thought that they might somehow realize right here that I was that Rust. But saying “I’d rather not” would only make things stranger.
If my identity were exposed here?
—Hyde! You fucking idiot! I always thought you were suspicious! That’s why I kept my virginity even after marriage! Go to hell!
Psyche, betrayed and furious, might literally rip my head off!
The only correct move was to act as if nothing was wrong.
“If it helps us catch that vicious monster, I will gladly assist.”
I rose smoothly from my seat.
Psyche spoke brightly.
“He really is almost the same height as Hyde! But Rust was a little taller.”
Rust was taller?
Taller in what way, exactly?
All sorts of awkward thoughts flashed through my mind, but of course they would. Whenever I played Rust I stuffed wooden blocks or pebbles into my shoes. That was why Rust stood about three centimeters taller than Hyde.
“I see. Useful information. Anything else?”
Fride asked.
Innocent Psyche seemed to sink into thought again for a long while, then suddenly exclaimed “Ah!” as if something had clicked.
“He was tall, but his physical ability didn’t seem very good. In the Blood Crusade, actual strength and combat power seemed to be handled entirely by the Great Sin Seat Las—the woman with the swirl mask.”
Psyche’s intuition was razor-sharp. In that brief confrontation yesterday she had already grasped so much about Rust. Truly worthy of the woman who had fought the Blood Crusade to the bitter end.
“Tall yet poor physical ability—is that it? Curious, given how thoroughly these heretics value hierarchy. How does a man without strength lead such a large following?”
Advisor Fride seemed unable to comprehend how heretics and cultists who lived by pure power would submit beneath Rust.
Psyche hummed thoughtfully, then added,
“I would have thought the same before. But after watching my husband Hyde, I learned something. There is something in this world more powerful than strength! Wisdom and knowledge!”
“Indeed. Even I, while still in Barakan, heard the rumors about Sir Hyde. So that man Rust possesses the same outstanding wisdom and eloquence as Sir Hyde.”
Fuck!
The atmosphere is drifting in a really weird direction, isn’t it?
Whether it was my imagination or not, I felt Fride’s gaze behind the black veil prickling against my skin. Black Knight Roland, too, seemed to be watching me through the eyes hidden by his helmet.
“I just remembered something else!”
Oh for fuck’s sake!
Psyche!
Stop talking!
Are you actually trying to get me killed?
Oblivious to my screaming inner monologue, Psyche continued.
“Rust was extremely attached to his mask! When I tried to take it off, I could feel how badly he panicked.”
“…He panicked?”
“It felt like he desperately wanted to hide his face. People who conceal their faces usually have identities they need to hide, don’t they? There must be some status or disgrace that absolutely cannot come to light…”
Psyche trailed off and closed her mouth. She had clearly realized that both Fride and Black Knight Roland, sitting right in front of her, also hid their faces.
“Please forget what I just said… I have committed a grave discourtesy.”
Psyche readily admitted her mistake. But Fride proved cooler than expected.
“No. You are correct. Those who hide their faces have much they must conceal. I know that well. In my case, I hide my face for the sake of others.”
Fride peeled off her glove. The moment the skin was revealed, Psyche sucked in a sharp breath. The back of Fride’s hand was covered in severe burn scars that continued all the way to the wrist—and likely across her entire body.
“About twenty years ago, some madwoman declared that a Midbar woman would give birth to a murderer. From that moment on, Midbar women and children died in staggering numbers.”
Fride touched her lower abdomen.
“I only survived after my body became one that could no longer bear children. I was twenty-one at the time. I have hidden my face ever since.”
Emma’s story—Lucy’s mother?
Her fanatical prophecy had killed countless people, and Fride had been one of the victims. The world really was a small place.
“Sir Roland. What is your opinion of today’s discussion?”
As we were wrapping up and preparing to disperse, Advisor Fride sought the Black Knight’s view. I had no choice but to listen carefully. My life might hang in the balance!
Roland spoke in a heavy voice from beneath his heavy helmet.
“The reason that man Rust must hide his identity is almost certainly his status. Crude as he appears, the vocabulary and rhetoric he uses are as refined as any noble’s. He is of very high rank—or closely connected to such people.”
“Rust is a noble?”
Psyche looked startled.
So was I.
That’s almost exactly right!
“Not a mere noble. What I sense from him is malice. He hates the world. A young lord carrying an enormous grudge… There is a chance he is the son of a royalist noble purged twenty years ago.”
Cold sweat ran down my back. Roland’s intuition had come within a hair’s breadth of my true identity—and then veered just slightly off course.
Fride added a quiet remark.
“I, too, felt hatred toward the world in his stories and testimonies. He is probably an orphan of the war’s flames, just as I am. An orphan. Outstanding eloquence. And someone connected to the nobility… Does that not sound exactly like someone present in this room?”
What the fuck?
The room suddenly felt as cold as if the air conditioning had been cranked up.
I have to play this carefully from here on. Very carefully.
Fride let out a soft chuckle.
“It sounds exactly like Sir Roland, doesn’t it? Sir Roland, could it be that you yourself are Rust? That the face behind the mask and the face behind the helmet are one and the same…?”
At Fride’s words, Roland fell silent. He said nothing while Fride continued alone.
“Sir Roland, unlike your younger half-brother of different age, you are of Unizer blood. Had the war never broken out, you might even have become king. Do you by any chance put on a mask every night and incite the people?”
Wait—
Roland Orleans is of Unizer blood?
What the fuck, I thought the entire royal family was wiped out!
Why the hell did they leave this guy alive?!
The world spun for a moment, but I asked with perfect calm,
“Was the Unizer royal bloodline not completely exterminated?”
“Yes. All except one man who had sworn lifelong chastity to God. A man who has sworn chastity ceases to belong to any house.”
Ah, now it made sense!
Black Knight Roland.
He was of mixed royal blood. His mother must have been the Unizer woman married off into the Orleans count family. Even as a maternal relative he should have been purged for carrying royal blood, yet the early chastity vow had saved him!
Right. That was it.
The Black Knights themselves had been formed from criminals and people born under cursed stars. This situation was something I could use.
“I see. Now I understand why Sir Roland never removes his helmet. I have heard that those who inherit Unizer blood possess mysterious violet eyes. Sir Roland, is that true of you as well?”
“…….”
“What if that man Rust wears a mask to hide those same mysterious violet eyes? What if he is a surviving member of the royal house?”
I spoke in a carefully suggestive tone.
The first to react was Psyche.
“Hyde, what do you mean by that?”
“It was merely a possibility. Not an impossible one. The fact that he first appeared in Agarpe territory could have been a warning directed at the traitors.”
It was a two-birds-with-one-stone story: distancing Rust’s identity as far as possible from me, Hyde, while simultaneously diverting manpower toward searching for any surviving royal blood. If legitimate royals with a claim to the throne still lived, and if one of them became the “human who stands at the center of the six horns” that Lucy had spoken of, it would be the absolute worst outcome for me.
Anyone who might know my true identity must be eliminated.
Roland nodded.
“If that is true, it would be the worst possible scenario. If that man Rust joins hands with the Great Sin Seat of Sloth, things will spiral beyond control.”
Sloth of Sloth?
Why that idiot?
While I wondered, Fride struck the table with a sharp crack.
“Enough.”
With that single word, Fride and Roland spoke no more.