Chapter 43
Chapter 43
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 43
Chapter Title: Incident Investigation Record (1)
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The fact that Roshiar had invaded Luhillen Viscount territory was a massive incident that shook the entire kingdom.
Fortunately, the damage was minimal, and it hadn't escalated into full-scale armed conflict, but the capital decided to dispatch an investigator to handle the aftermath.
If it had been a fight between two neighboring families, that would be one thing, but Edenberry and Pharenchia were in the northern and central regions of Penheim, with no notable interactions between them.
Moreover, this wasn't some petty squabble between rural minor nobles that erupted daily. It was a clash between the kingdom's premier magical family and a merchant house.
It was as chaotic as damp straw catching fire.
And so, Gallagher, the 2nd Class Political Officer from the military's Inspectorate in Tesallon, was appointed as a special royal investigator and began his probe.
Dressed in a white uniform with red epaulets, he was a young knight respected even in the capital.
Born the eldest son of a northern viscount family, he had risen to the mid-layers of the Alkaid Magic Tower. Unusually, he then served as a captain in the Blue Moon combat mage unit, one of the 12 alliances in the Raviere Mountains—where relations with the seven towers were strained.
Now holding a mid-level administrative post in the capital, Gallagher was not only exceptionally skilled in combat but also well-versed in northern affairs.
Concealing his anticipation that resolving this incident properly might earn him a 1st Class promotion, he boarded a magical carriage bound for Edenberry.
However, upon arriving at the North Sea for the first time in his life, he found every ferryboat tied up at the harbor.
He couldn't cross to the largest island, where the lord's castle stood.
Gallagher approached an old man wandering the harbor, who looked like a fishing boat owner.
"Has something happened around here, sir?"
"Eh? Who might you be, lad?"
"I'm from the capital. I have business with the Roshiar count family, but I can't cross the sea."
"Heh heh, can't go now. The soldiers blocked the sea route."
"Why is that?"
"No idea. Hmph! Been like that for about a week now. Only folks comin' and goin' were a wee lady with flowers in her hair and some ship fella!"
A wee lady? Could he mean Adella Sylvestra, who went missing from Pharenchia?
Roshiar hadn't issued any official statement yet. Gallagher asked the old man again.
"How did that boat get out?"
"Heh, I ferried 'em! There's a hidden waterway behind that island over there."
"Ahem... Could you take me too, then?"
"Well, if ya pay... sure."
The old man eyed Gallagher's sword and uniform alternately before asking,
"Lad, ya use magic besides the sword?"
"Pardon?"
Gallagher learned the meaning of those words right after boarding the boat.
Spashhhh!!!
A massive monster, at least seven meters long, lunged to swallow the ferry in one bite. The old man deftly maneuvered the vessel away, but immediately afterward, countless sea creatures surged from beneath the waves to devour them both.
"What the hell...!! How did you cross a place like this!?"
"Beats me, heh heh. Last time, those buggers stayed quiet down there like drowned rats."
Finally escaping the monsters with magic, he arrived on the island with his uniform thoroughly soaked.
The sight of the island housing the lord's castle was even more shocking.
Debris littered every street, resembling a war zone. The spire of the towering castle stretched toward the sky, half-broken and ragged.
The Roshiar soldiers' faces tensed upon spotting Gallagher. He showed the royal seal to a grim-faced soldier clearing rubble, his expression stern.
"I am Gallagher Bernhardt, special royal investigator. I have come to investigate the Roshiar family's unannounced invasion of Pharenchia last April."
"We have nothing to say."
"Are you refusing a demand from an investigator sent directly by His Majesty the King?"
"We simply lack the authority."
"Then take me to the Snow Duke."
"The family head is..."
"Is there a problem?"
"No. Follow me."
Guided by the soldier, he entered the foreboding lord's castle. The deeper in he went, the colder it became, his breath visible.
The soldier escorting Gallagher stopped him before a large door and knocked. No sound came from inside.
"Lady Estelle hasn't left her room in a week."
"Why? Did something happen here?"
"..."
The soldier remained silent. Every private soldier on the island did the same.
A magic family prioritizing pragmatism would know how uncooperative behavior toward a royal investigator could twist the report.
Yet their thorough silence pointed to one thing, in Gallagher's estimation.
They had suffered a deeply humiliating event and wanted to bury the incident entirely.
It was common after factional struggles in magic towers decided a winner.
Brilliant mages overflowed with pride in their magic, so defeat amplified their despair—
'But the Luhillen Viscount Family shows no notable movement?'
Ultimately, Gallagher had no way to know why Roshiar, who struck first, had suffered such damage.
He knocked firmly on the Snow Duke's door. He announced his position and name, requesting proper courtesy.
But there was no response whatsoever.
Even enhancing his hearing with magic yielded no breath sounds. He couldn't tell if anyone was inside or if the soldier had parked him before a freezer.
"Haa..."
As a last resort, Gallagher seized a lax moment in the soldier's watch and grasped the doorknob.
A little mana would be rude but enough to break in.
But that thought was a grave miscalculation.
Crack!
Frost formed the instant he touched it, freezing the handle solid. He yanked his hand back just in time to avoid frostbite. Only then came a faint sound from within.
— Get... out...
He doubted his ears. Having been in the Raviere Mountains, Gallagher had heard many rumors about Penheim's frontline guardian, Roshiar's Snow Duke.
She was said to be coldly sharp, dubbed iron-blooded. Could she utter such a feeble voice?
Unable to meet Estelle, he had no choice but to turn back. With a deep sigh, Gallagher headed to Pharenchia next.
Returning to the academy from the North Sea with Adella, what awaited me was a half-destroyed canteen.
Fortunately, the basement and second floor seemed untouched, but the first-floor shop, trampled by Roshiar's knights, was a wreck needing repairs.
Dents in the floor, shattered windows... No business for a while.
'Should've just taken her head.'
It'd look spooky at night. Hanging the Snow Duke's head on the roof like a haunted house might turn it into a tourist spot?
Just a thought, of course.
I kicked aside scattered stationery and glass shards on the floor and headed upstairs.
The cozy interior, arranged as close as possible to my old Earth home. Finally back home, I sank into relief.
But it was time to stop assuming this peace would last forever.
Lounging against the sofa, I fell into thought.
The student council stuff, Adella's kidnapping—the world's storms were intensifying, shaking my small, precious canteen like a sailboat in a gale.
Pharenchia was no longer the peaceful countryside I'd first settled in. I couldn't Liv like this indefinitely.
'First, prepare against the canteen getting trashed again. And...'
The battle with the Snow Duke. Sure, I won. Landing one punch after a hundred hits, knocking her down last—that's a win.
But was it truly optimal?
Without Eris beside me, I couldn't pull the reckless stunts from Helzev. Using three or more unique spells despite the strain would've collapsed me before escaping the North Sea with Adella.
'Maybe pick up the sword again.'
Not a holy sword, but some weapon would be wise. As a hero, I'd used sword and shield, but I didn't want the hassle of carrying a bulky shield.
A light sword for self-defense should suffice.
Ten years isn't short. My skill had rusted from disuse, but I resolved to wield a blade again.
And the next day—
"Hyaah!!"
As I left the academy to order repair materials from Bill, a spirited shout echoed from afar.
By chance, someone was swinging a sword in the clearing where I'd once taught the students.
The first-year boy from the magic duel—Kal, was it?
He was training under a blonde female knight. His sweat-soaked back looked impressive.
"Hm?"
Then, the knight facing him noticed me.
"You..."
After Louis's "Practical Training on Distinguishing Doppelgangers" lecture, the small clearing behind Privity Hall became a no-man's-land.
Just approaching triggered students' trauma—no one went near.
Perfect for avoiding eyes while teaching Kal swordsmanship, so Princess Erzebet's guard, Everat, often summoned him here.
Today, watching him train, Everat was startled by Louis's sudden appearance.
"Ah, sorry. Didn't mean to interrupt."
"It's fine."
The canteen owner strolled over in slippers and shorts like he was heading to the neighborhood store, but Everat stayed alert.
Few in the knights even knew doppelganger distinction methods. Louis was surely once in a knight order or magic expert.
"Teaching him? Neat."
"At Her Highness's request."
"Erzebet?"
"Yes. I am Everat Windgard, Her Highness's guard."
"Ah~. Now that you mention it, you were next to her in class... Louis. Nice to meet you."
Grasping his offered hand, she felt a moderately strong forearm and palm.
'No calluses...'
Meaning he'd set the sword aside long ago. Everat noticed Louis's gaze fixed on Kal's sword.
Naturally, curiosity to test this man's skill arose.
"That's enough for today."
"Yes? Okay."
Everat dismissed Kal. She handed Louis her drawn sword.
Her Highness wrinkled her nose whenever Louis came up, claiming no interest.
She even mocked him as worthless. Was that assessment accurate?
"Care for a spar?"
"Huh? Really? Sure?"
He looked thrilled, like reclaiming a long-forgotten toy from storage.
Seeing the hawk-claw emblem on her chest—Hooksclo Knights' symbol—he nodded.
"That's Whitelett's knight order, right?"
"Address the Margrave with respect. Yes."
"Picky. So you're strong too? Good."
Good? Assuming she'd hold back?
Of course, Everat planned mercy. Even in sparring, hospitalizing a mere canteen owner as Penheim's top knight would tarnish her reputation.
Just gauge his power. Thinking so, she drew her sword.
"Attack first?"
"Sure? Okay."
He nodded without hesitation. Three steps apart.
Everat quietly measured sword range, awaiting his move.
Overhead strike? Deflect sideways.
Thrust? Dodge back, push blade down.
Magic? Cast Wa after Eul, strike wrist and waist to disable.
Most efficient anti-personnel from Hooksclo.
Reciting it mentally—then Louis's sword fell toward her head.
Clang!
'Blocked...!'
Boom——!!
Eh?
Thud! Crash! Boom...! Her head spun, body tumbling across the ground. Limbs and shoulders battered.
Regaining senses, Everat realized she'd crashed into a flowerbed at the clearing's edge. She brushed back disheveled blonde hair to clear vision.
What hit her?
"Cough, cough!! Hack..."
A strike too fast for eyes. Shadow blade? Quick-draw ambush?
The blocked sword was flung far away. Sword break? Glue disarm?
Wrist screamed in agony. Mixed Wa for instant strike? Thought he was just a swordsman—magic too?
Endless questions chained as Louis approached, offering a hand.
"You okay? Sorry. Didn't think you'd fly that far. Figured the armor made you heavy, but you're lighter than expected."
Right. Hooksclo light armor had basic defense magic and impact barriers embedded.
Her body trembled. Meaning Louis's blow pierced the artifact and sent her flying.
Stunned, Everat stammered as he helped her up—a foolish question no knight would answer.
"H-how did you do that."
"Hm?"
"What sword art is that. Which family's secret...?"
But he looked utterly baffled.
"Sword art?"
His words, returning with her half-broken steel sword, plunged Everat into unprecedented shock.
"Why would a sword need rules?"