The Prisoners
The assailants captured as prisoners by Kyle and his men were escorted directly back to the estate. Had they been nothing more than common bandits, they would have been executed on the spot rather than taken captive. But these were no ordinary robbers seeking gold and valuables—they were mysterious entities cloaked in black magic. Unknown identities or not, anything connected to black magic could not be ignored. After all, black magic was a forbidden art within the empire, serious enough that the mere knowledge of its use would bring the empire’s pursuers swarming in pursuit.
“Young master, all of them have been restrained.”
“Good. Let’s move out.”
“Yes, sir.”
Just to be safe, they had severed the tendons in their hands and feet before binding them tightly with ropes. Only then did the knight order begin the return march at more than double their original speed. Perhaps because the matter was so grave, the knights poured every ounce of concentration into guiding their horses and reached the estate at nearly twice the speed of their outward journey.
Upon arrival, the guards who spotted them instantly announced their triumphant return.
“—You’ve returned remarkably fast, Kyle.”
“Yes, Father.”
“Did the patrol go smoothly?”
“About that… I have something to show you.”
Kyle presented the prisoners he had captured to the Count. At first the Count tilted his head in puzzlement, but his expression hardened the moment he heard Kyle’s full account.
“…What? Black magic?”
“Yes, it appears so.”
Two Aura Experts and dozens of Aura Users armed with gear fine enough for proper knights—this was a level of military strength that not even a decent-sized estate could possess. It was no coincidence that Count Meyer, despite lacking even a single Master, still held the empire’s revered title of sword and the seat of a renowned sword family.
The Count nodded quietly after listening to Kyle’s report.
“Understood. —You weren’t injured anywhere, were you?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Then all is well. I’ll take my leave.”
Rarely seen, the Count’s face was set like stone as he headed straight for the prison where the captives were held. Kyle let out a small, surprised sound, as if witnessing such an expression from his father for the first time, then quietly turned away.
I should go see Yurina.
Kyle might be a Master, but he could not match his father in political skill or interrogation techniques. After all, the man had survived among those slippery nobles despite any shortcomings in that department. It wasn’t simply because he was his father—he was a man worthy of complete trust.
“Aaaaaagh—!!”
The sizzle of searing flesh and the accompanying stench of burning meat filled the air as a man’s agonized scream echoed through the interrogation chamber. The torturer pressing the branding iron smiled as though the sound were all too familiar, then calmly applied the iron to the prisoner’s body once more.
While the man howled in unimaginable agony as his flesh, muscle, and nerves burned away, the torturer continued branding his entire body with evident amusement.
“Has he opened his mouth yet?”
“Ah, Count.”
The torturer immediately set down the iron upon seeing the Count enter and offered a light bow. The Count returned the gesture and gazed steadily at the prisoner, whose body was now a canvas of burns. There was scarcely an uninjured patch of skin left, yet astonishingly the man still kept his lips sealed tight. It was tremendous mental fortitude—and clear evidence that he had undergone specialized torture training. No matter how strong one’s innate will, no one could endure such torment forever.
“You truly intend to keep your mouth shut?”
“……”
“Very well. Hand it over.”
“Y-yes! Here it is!”
Receiving the white-hot iron from the knight, the Count infused it with Aura and pressed it firmly into the prisoner’s body. The pain was far more intense than before. It was not merely the agony of fire, but an infernal torment that burned all the way to the soul itself. The prisoner no longer had the breath to scream—he could only gasp and choke. This pain struck directly at the soul even past the brain, unavoidable even in unconsciousness, so the man repeatedly fainted and woke again and again.
When the room had filled with the stench of the prisoner’s own waste, the Count splashed water over him to rouse him.
“Cough—cough!”
“Still no intention of speaking?”
“Haa… haa… F-fuck… off—”
“I see.”
Hearing those words, the Count quietly set the iron aside. Then he reached out and began pressing firmly into the gap between the prisoner’s collarbones. Attacked at the vulnerable joint connecting bone to bone, the man let out a guttural groan of “Urrgh—” as fresh agony tore through him.
With an indifferent expression, the Count watched the groaning man and spoke.
“If you have no intention of speaking, you need not speak. Should you wish to die, I will gladly grant you death accompanied by the most excruciating pain imaginable.”
“Ughhhhh…!”
“To dare lay hands on black magic.”
As the sword that protected the empire and a knight sworn to the Emperor, Count Karl Meyer had a duty to safeguard the realm. The fact that these vermin were dabbling in black magic in the shadows was precisely the sort of threat he was obligated to uncover and crush in advance.
“No matter who stands behind you—I will burn them all to ash.”
“You crazy bastard—aaagh!”
“Indeed. One would have to be mad to commit such acts.”
The Count withdrew the hand that had dug deep into the collarbone and casually wiped the blood from it. He tossed the blood-soaked cloth aside with clear disgust, then addressed the now rigidly tense torturer.
“You may kill him. Torture him with the sole purpose of maximizing his suffering.”
“Y-yes! Understood!”
“—W-wait…! What kind of torture is th—!”
“Shut your mouth, you damned wretch!”
“Ugh, aaaaaagh—!”
Leaving the renewed screams behind, the Count quietly exited the interrogation room. Though he had been inside only briefly, the stench of blood seemed to have soaked into his very clothes.
I’ll have to discard this outfit.
The Count stripped off the blood-scented garments, ordered a servant to dispose of them, changed into fresh attire, and headed for his office. Rage burned all the way to the top of his skull. He wanted nothing more than to hunt down the mastermind behind this and tear him limb from limb. Yet to do so, he first had to master the art of patience.
No matter who orchestrated this—I will rip them apart without fail.
With that thought, the Count focused on his duties. When the time came to rush out sword in hand, it was vital that not a single document be left unfinished.
Having returned to the family after a long absence, I sparred with the household knights. The moment they learned I had become a Master, they came seeking instruction.
Clang!
“…I have been defeated.”
After losing his sword in only three exchanges, Sir Leon stared at me with a look of pure astonishment. His expression was one of utter disbelief.
“Truly… truly astonishing growth, young master.”
“Yeah. I suppose so.”
“So this is the sword of a Master…”
“Save your admiration for later, would you? Next—”
I pushed the seated Leon—who had dropped to the ground to organize his newfound insights—off to one side and continued sparring with the other knights in succession. The Experts received my blade and gained enlightenment, while even the regular knights and apprentice knights who were merely Aura Users walked away with one or two valuable lessons.
Once I had finished instructing them all, the knights burst into exclamations of admiration and began to praise me lavishly.
“Incredible, young master. A Master in your teens… At this rate, couldn’t you become something even greater than a Master?”
“Something greater than a Master? What would that even be?”
“A Grand Master! Surely you know of them? They appear all the time in fairy tales.”
I let out a small chuckle at those words.
Unfortunately, nothing like a Grand Master existed. It had been the same in the game. Such an absurd realm was merely a thing of legend both here and in the game. Reaching the Master level alone was enough to become an all-powerful being capable of facing an entire army single-handedly. Just how strong would a Grand Master have to be?
What, could they shatter a planet by themselves?
No matter that this was a game world, they would never create such a broken, overpowered character. The game would cease to be fun if it became too easy, and if a being capable of destroying planets with a swing of a sword existed, any monster designed to challenge it would leave the earth itself in ruins.
“Young master, but earlier you did it like this…”
“Hmm? Oh, really? Let me try…”
I discussed swordsmanship with the knights, sparred while alternating between my left and right hands, and even called in additional Expert-level knights to try two-on-one and three-on-one bouts. The same Expert I could defeat in three exchanges one-on-one was ironically finished in only two when facing multiple opponents. The knights, who had wielded swords for many long years, could only laugh hollowly at the realization that they were still far from reaching the realm of a Master.
“—I have identified the mastermind.”
After a lengthy interrogation, the Count summoned his vassals with the information extracted from the prisoners. Everyone gathered swallowed nervously, eyes fixed on the Count’s lips.
“It was the work of Viscount Etalin.”
“Viscount Etalin… Isn’t that a family that has sworn loyalty to the empire? Why would such a house dabble in black magic…?”
“Who knows? Perhaps they found black magic particularly tempting.”
The Count who revealed the information gained from the prisoners let out a disbelieving chuckle. Then, abruptly cutting his laughter short, he addressed his vassals.
“This is not only a challenge to our family—it is a challenge directed at His Majesty the Emperor himself.”
The prohibition of black magic had been an imperial decree. Violating it was nothing short of treason against the Emperor.
“We cannot allow vermin who have tarnished the honor of the imperial family to continue living.”
“—Which means…”
“Exactly. I personally reported this matter to His Majesty and have received an imperial decree.”
The Count’s eyes gleamed sharply as he looked at his vassals.