The Curse of a Defeated Villain
The Nephele Kingdom had never been one to maintain active exchanges with other nations. News of the evil god incident that had erupted within the Callion Empire had reached them only in rough outline, and they had yet to obtain anything close to accurate intelligence.
Alois himself had never paid the evil god much mind in the first place, so he had never bothered to lend an ear to rumors from that quarter. That was precisely why he had failed to realize that Lexion was no true cultist at all.
"...Before I left the kingdom, he handed me a necklace. Called it his trump card."
Alois, sitting slumped on the edge of the bed, spoke in a hollow voice.
"He said a powerful magic was woven into it, that it would protect me if I ever found myself in danger. I didn't put much faith in it, but I carried it with me all the same."
So that was how Lexion had kept watch over Alois. The core of the mana storm, too, must have been that very necklace.
After staring into space for a long while, Alois spoke again.
"He was the one who came to me first."
"Without any warning?"
"That's right. One day, out of nowhere, he simply appeared in my chambers."
He answered Arendt's question in a flat, toneless voice.
It had been deep in the night. He had dismissed all his attendants and was just about to rest alone when, without so much as a footprint, the man materialized in the very center of the room — wearing that amiable smile, or perhaps something altogether more sinister.
"He introduced himself as having come from the Evil God Cult. Said his name was Lexion, that he held a key position in the order. He told me he knew of my ambitions and offered to help realize them."
In other words, Lexion had targeted Alois from the very beginning.
"Of course, I'm no fool, so I was wary at first... but I came to believe he could be useful to my ambitions. And my mother and I had been at odds at the time."
"At odds, you say. What kind of conflict?"
"...I'm sure even His Highness the Crown Prince knows that the Nephele Kingdom is bordered by the sea. A few hours by ship and one reaches the Elf Kingdoms. I intended to conquer them."
A flicker of disbelief crossed Cantares's face.
"Absurd. Did you want to turn the entire continent into a wasteland?"
In the long ages since the Great War, humans and the other races had known no major conflict. Both sides knew all too well that once a war began, it would swell beyond anyone's control.
"Those lands hold rare gems and minerals that humans cannot easily obtain. If we had seized them, our Nephele Kingdom would surely have flourished."
"Prince Matthias — did you know any of this?"
"No... this is the first I've heard of it."
As Matthias answered in a daze, Alois gave a slow nod.
"That couldn't be helped. I kept it a closely guarded secret... I gave word of it to my mother alone."
"And you ran into opposition?"
"Yes. Lexion already knew of my plans. All I had to do was exclude Father from this affair, and everything would surely have unfolded as I willed. And then Lexion told me he had a way."
It wasn't that he had felt no conflict over it. Harming one's own father was a betrayal of heaven's order, and if discovered, he could well have been punished for treason without it seeming strange.
But in the end, Alois could not withstand the temptation, and he joined hands with Lexion.
Around that time, word arrived that a summit would be held in the Lucain Kingdom.
"He proposed that if I attended the summit and killed Arendt von Eckhart, the cult would continue to cooperate with me afterward. He said the Saintess, too, wished to maintain good relations with the Nephele Kingdom for a long time to come..."
"Wait. The Saintess, you say?"
Arendt, who had been listening in silence, cut in.
"He mentioned her now and again. It seems the one leading the Evil God Cult these days is that Saintess."
...
The Crown Prince glanced briefly at the apprentice knight, who sat frowning in quiet thought, then pressed on.
"So your plan was to kill Arendt, and in exchange receive Lexion's aid to invade the Elf Kingdoms?"
"Yes. The Evil God Cult promised their assistance as well... After that, I intended to wake my mother."
"You truly are an irredeemable fool."
Cantares let out a hollow laugh.
"Fine. Let's say the Elf Kingdoms alone were something the Nephele Kingdom could have managed on its own. Did you ever think about what comes after?"
...
"The other races hold a deep antipathy toward humans. Elves more than anyone. The moment war began, every elf would declare an end to contact with humankind, and the dwarves would follow suit. Do you imagine the other nations would simply stand by and watch?"
...
"For the sake of Nephele, all of humanity would have to make an enemy of the other races? No — it's the other way around. Had you actually carried out that plan, I would have been the first to refuse to stay quiet."
...
"I'd have cut off your head myself and carried it to the Elven King and the elders as an apology."
Alois did not answer.
A suffocating feeling welled up in Cantares's chest, and he let out a long sigh as he rubbed the back of his head.
"In any case... yes, fine. None of it ever came to pass. That it truly ended at this level is nothing short of a miracle. I trust Prince Matthias agrees."
"...Yes."
Matthias managed to reply in a cracked voice.
He had now learned that Alois had never been after the Crown Prince from the start, but this was hardly a position from which he could complain. One wrong step, and the kingdom might truly have burned to the ground.
Just as silence settled over the room, Alois's vacant voice burrowed into everyone's ears.
"But if I fought all those enemies — and won..."
"What?"
"If I had succeeded, then surely the Callion Empire could have been laid at my feet. What if the other races swarmed us and every nation raised its blade? I'd only have needed to fight and win, wouldn't I?"
Poison began to seep into that unfocused voice, and Alois raised his head.
"Heroes are born in times of upheaval! The parents of a conqueror are a bloodstained sword, and there is no conquest without sacrifice. In this age of peace, where our brains have rotted into mush, no one has any future at all. That's why I stepped forward — to show mercy, to be the first of anyone to take up the sword!"
His bloodshot eyes, veins crawling across them, glared straight at Arendt, who stood behind Cantares.
"I curse you, Arendt von Eckhart. Even if it's the last thing I do as I die, I will curse you and curse you again, until someday I have my revenge."
Had his body been whole, he seemed ready to lunge for Arendt's throat that very instant.
Matthias and Cantares tensed slightly and looked to Arendt — but he was utterly composed.
"A curse, is it? I like that."
Arendt clapped his hands together with perfect indifference, looking down at Alois with eyes that betrayed not a flicker of emotion.
"Well, nothing you said was wrong, I suppose. A conqueror being born from bloodstained steel — true enough. But your premise itself was flawed. To become a hero, you have to win."
As his words fell one by one, Alois's eyes began to lose focus, as though bewitched by something. Cantares and Matthias, too, found themselves staring blankly at Arendt without meaning to.
"Even after a defeat, you rise again. Even in a body on the verge of death, you keep your back straight and fight against the world with an almost idiotic stubbornness. You shoulder a burden of countless lives that have nothing to do with you, struggle under it as though it were your duty — and yet never once set that burden down. That is what a hero is."
Arendt bent at the waist until his eyes were level with Alois's, and the corner of his mouth curled.
"But you? You lost from the very first round. And quite grotesquely, at that. So thoroughly that you'll never stand back up again."
...
At that naked mockery, Alois's body began to tremble violently.
"Know your place. You're nothing but a pathetic villain — used up once, then thrown away. No one will even remember your name."
With a soft snort of laughter, Arendt straightened his posture.
"Go on, spend the rest of your life cowering in the shadows, cursing this worthless apprentice knight who isn't even a hero. Crawl along the ground like an insect and envy. That suits you far better."
The hero in that story was someone else entirely. A hero so stubborn, so impossibly foolish, that even for a wretch like this to so much as cast covetous eyes on him was beyond imagining.
"...You... you..."
"Oh, and don't forget that your precious little life was spared thanks to me, either. It'll make all that cursing feel more worthwhile."
Unable to bear the humiliation, Alois's jaw shook until his teeth began clacking against each other.
Matthias retreated in fear, and even Cantares subtly drew Arendt toward his side.
A moment later, Alois let out a shriek and hurled himself at Arendt — but he made it barely a few steps before collapsing.
Arendt caught him lightly and tossed him back onto the bed.
Foaming at the mouth and convulsing, Alois had finally fainted outright.
"Please call a healer."
"You really are... haa, forget it."
Cantares shook his head with a weary groan. Then, leaving behind the healers who came rushing in at the sound of the screams, he and Arendt walked out of the room.
The two had just set off to return to their lodgings when Matthias came scrambling after them and caught them.
"Wait, please, Your Highness. And Sir Arendt. One moment, I beg you."
After the ordeal of the past few days, Prince Matthias's face was far paler than when they had first met him.
"I truly apologize for all the trouble we've caused you."
"Think nothing of it. It wasn't Prince Matthias's fault."
Cantares turned to face the prince and shook his head gently.
"What is to become of the Nephele Kingdom now?"
"Thankfully, my mother has woken in good health, so for the time being she will rule the kingdom herself. The next heir will likely be my elder sister. However I look at myself, I'm hardly fit to be a king."
Prince Matthias answered with a pale smile.
"...And Sir Arendt."
Arendt, who had been waiting idly behind Cantares with a bored expression, lifted his head.
"Yes?"
"It feels ridiculous to even say this, but — thank you for saving my brother's life."
"...You can still say that after what you just witnessed, Prince?"
"A fact is a fact."
Cantares asked back in disbelief, but Matthias showed no intention whatsoever of retracting his words.
"You would have been within your rights to execute him on the spot. I know the other visitors were quietly hoping you would, as well."
The other visitors had seemed rather displeased that Alois had not been put to death. It was Cantares who had brushed all such opinions aside.
Arendt, meeting Matthias's steady gaze, simply shrugged.
"If you're grateful, then hand over some money."
"Wh-what?"
"A joke. Later on, when someone from the Neumann Merchant Guild comes calling, give them a warm welcome. We won't have a single bad word to say about the Nephele Kingdom."
For a moment the prince stared at him blankly, as though he hadn't understood — then he hastily nodded.
"I swear I will."
The summit, postponed by the untimely commotion, was safely held thanks to Victor's swift handling of affairs and Cantares's drive.
Cantares shared the intelligence on the Evil God Cult that had until now been circulated among only a handful of nations, and distributed communication orbs for emergency contact. The moment any suspicious activity or damage came to light, it would be shared swiftly among them all — though the arrangement also served the secondary purpose of keeping watch on one another.
After all, there was no telling when any given nation might turn to the Cult of Cernion.
Alois's rampage, likewise, was officially concluded as the work of the Evil God Cult, and the continent's vigilance deepened all the more — if nothing else, that much could be counted a good thing.
And so time flowed swiftly past. The lavish evening banquet, to which even the escorting knights had been invited, came to an end — and the next day arrived.
It was finally, truly time to go home.
For the escorting knights, it promised to be a leisurely journey back to the Empire... except that, for one of them at least, the departure would be anything but peaceful. If that counted as a problem, then it was a problem indeed.