Three Commanders and One Suspicious Vacation
Even faced with the bizarre sight of all three knight order commanders applying for leave at once, Cantares approved the requests without a moment's hesitation.
Ordinarily, having the very people tasked with guarding the Imperial Palace wander off their posts would have earned a few sharp words, but this time nothing of the sort occurred.
By now the story had spread far beyond the initial threat — word was that the extortionist who had targeted the Neumann Merchant Guild had now thrown down a direct challenge to the Imperial Knights themselves.
Worse still, the knights who heard the rumor had each come forward volunteering to join the excursion, leaving the commanders thoroughly at a loss no matter how they looked at it.
But what could they do? They had no choice but to play along.
An intruder might come.
That vague, formless unease had been transformed, through the threatening letter, into a visible and concrete danger. With some calamity now all but declared inevitable, it would have been stranger not to move proactively.
So it was only natural that people sent their unofficial well-wishes after the knights setting out under the table.
And the true architect of this entire circus, Arendt, simply hung back and feigned total ignorance of it all.
At last the day arrived.
The knights departing on this ridiculous vacation gathered in the stables. Laios and Arendt had, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, been joined by Arthur and Richt, while Kendrick and Diana each brought a single subordinate of their own.
"It's been a while, Sir Helen."
"It has indeed, Commander Kendrick. And Commander Laios as well."
The red-haired knight standing at Diana's side offered a crisp salute. Her short-cropped hair brushed the edges of her ears, and her tightly pressed lips radiated a stubborn, unyielding uprightness — the kind of person who seemed to have the word knight carved into her very being, much like Richt or Laios.
Helen de Lattes... was it?
Diana's right hand, and a character who had appeared a handful of times in the novel. Arendt had only just sunk into that brief reflection when he realized her gaze had found him, and he lifted his head.
Helen's green eyes were openly brimming with hostility.
Arendt tilted his head and asked insolently, "Why are you glaring at me? Did I get something on my face?"
"...?!"
"...I apologize. He's always like this, so please just ignore him."
Richt apologized on Arendt's behalf to the dumbfounded Helen. But she was far from the only one sending less-than-friendly looks his way.
A young knight, standing quietly at Kendrick's side as if he might not even be there, carefully spoke up. His tone was calmer than one might expect from Kendrick's subordinate.
"I ask for your understanding. From our perspective, it is rather difficult to accept Sir Arendt von Eckhart as a comrade just yet."
"Hahahaha. So that's how it is, eh, Sir Arendt? You'll simply have to understand. This is all the harvest of seeds you yourself sowed."
Kendrick let out a hearty laugh.
Standing beside the towering Kendrick made the thin-framed knight look smaller still. Racking his memory, Arendt recalled the young man's name as well.
Benjamin Parviz. The youngest knight of the First Knight Order.
No wonder he looked so young.
Apparently a bit older than Arthur, but at most by a year or two.
Arendt shot Benjamin a sidelong glance, then turned smoothly on his heel to face Kendrick directly.
"Shall we depart now, then?"
"...!"
This time it was Benjamin's face that contorted. And at the sight, Kendrick burst out with a note of pure admiration.
"You really do have a gift for knowing exactly how to infuriate people, don't you?"
"Thank you for the compliment."
At Arendt's breezy reply, Benjamin and Helen looked more exasperated than ever. Kendrick clapped a hand on both their shoulders and steered them away toward the inner stables.
"Now, now. It's in your own best interests not to let it get to you. Bickering with him will only give you a headache for nothing."
"But, Commander—!"
Benjamin tried to protest, only to find himself helplessly hauled off by Kendrick. Diana shook her head with a wry smile and followed in their wake.
How enormous the shock would be, if they knew the entire Imperial Palace was currently at that apprentice knight's beck and call. It was truly a pity that even the commanders they revered so deeply were no exception to the rule.
Despite the rocky start, the journey itself went smoothly.
Arendt brought up the rear, lazily guiding his horse as he gazed at the knights riding ahead.
Helen and Benjamin, was it.
In the novel, the two of them had shared no particular connection — neither was a character of great consequence. And yet the reason he could not help but picture them as a pair was simple.
They died in the same place.
In the thick of the civil war, they fell while rescuing civilians cornered by golems and ghouls.
What a bleak, hopeless piece of garbage that story was.
It was no coincidence that the two of them had shown up in affairs involving Vincent. No doubt they were simply following the novel's design.
Originally, their deaths had been scheduled for much later. But the flow of events had already begun to shift, and there was no telling anymore what fate held in store for them.
Best to clear away any useless death flags while I can.
It was a vanishingly remote possibility, but it seemed worth keeping a close eye on them all the same.
Leaving the Imperial Palace behind, the party rode hard without rest and reached their destination around dusk.
The moment they arrived at the mansion where the auction would be held, the attendants, who had scrambled out in flawless formation, took charge of the knights' horses, and before long the guildmaster of the Neumann Merchant Guild came hurrying out to greet them.
"What a pleasure to see you here of all places. You've had a long road — my apologies for the trouble. Had I known, I would have sent carriages all the way to the palace."
"Think nothing of it. Riding is far faster, and we couldn't leave the palace empty for too long besides."
Kendrick stepped forward, smiling warmly, and shook Neumann's hand. Neumann also exchanged nods of greeting with Laios and Diana before ushering the party inside.
"The hall is straight ahead. A light tea reception is already underway, so please make yourselves comfortable. Simply show your invitations inside and you'll be admitted at once."
"Much obliged."
Kendrick gave Neumann's shoulder a couple of friendly pats and was the first to enter the mansion. Arendt, who had been following naturally behind, turned his head at the sudden, firm grip on his collar.
Neumann was smiling pleasantly, murmuring low enough that no one else could hear.
"Sir Arendt, you do hear that you have a nasty temperament, don't you? I nearly fainted."
"Isn't that exactly the sort of man you like, though?"
Arendt answered without a flicker of expression, then left Neumann standing there and strolled inside without a backward glance.
He could feel Neumann's gaze on his back, wearing an awkward, strained smile.
What a ham.
The man had reacted faster than anyone alive, and he had the nerve to complain.
Arendt allowed himself a private snort of laughter.
After a brief identity check, the knights were escorted up to the second floor, where the tea reception was in full swing.
The mansion, which the local lord used only for special occasions, had been remodeled expressly for banquets and gatherings: the entire second floor was arranged as a grand hall, with a handful of guest rooms below.
This place was a world apart from the capital — practically another realm entirely. The gleaming marble floors were polished to a mirror shine, and the carpets looked as if they had been laid down that very morning.
The moment they stepped into the hall, the sound of languid music drifted over them.
Inside, quite a crowd was already enjoying champagne and refreshments.
Arendt cast a casual glance around and spotted a dais at the center of the hall, upon which sat a single display case. Its velvet-draped red cover was guarded on all four sides by four mercenaries in impeccable dress.
Benjamin spoke up, troubled. "Isn't it far too conspicuous? Some of these people look ready to steal it right out in the open."
"Perhaps they decided that hiding it would be pointless anyway. Keeping it where the crowds are might actually be the safer option."
Helen's measured reply followed. Both of them swept the assembled guests with sharp, wary eyes.
Then Arendt's flat voice cut in out of nowhere.
"Loosen up those stares a little. Keep that up and you'll collar an innocent man first."
"I beg your pardon?"
For a moment Helen forgot herself entirely and shot back in disbelief. Arendt gave her a languid, sidelong glance and tipped his chin toward the crowd.
"Everyone's cowering because of you two."
He wasn't wrong. The guests were all busily pretending to be absorbed in conversation, but he could feel their nervous gazes darting toward the knights again and again.
These were people who had gathered despite the risks, but with armed knights bristling and glaring their way, it seemed their unease was starting to get the better of them.
Benjamin gave a short, awkward cough and lowered his voice to offer earnest advice. "Nevertheless, we cannot afford to relax, Sir Arendt. We are not here on holiday."
"Did I tell you to relax? I merely said don't advertise it. No villain ever turns himself in out of sheer fright because you're glaring your eyes out at him."
But Arendt only gave his usual unconcerned reply. "From the look of it, you two seem to think the man who sent that threatening letter might be hiding among these people."
That's because it's YOU, you little brat.
The three commanders barely managed to choke back the words that nearly leapt from their throats.
"Think about it. When a hunter goes after a wild beast, does he march around bellowing, 'You foolish creatures, I have come to hunt you down!'? He holds his breath, melts into the mountain, and waits for his moment."
"We are not hunters."
"Ah, of course, of course. Then by all means, do it knight-style — square those shoulders, announce 'Here I stand!' to the whole room, and let the watchers' eyes bug out of their heads."
Helen shot him an irritated glare at being openly mocked, and Arendt burst out laughing as he delivered the finishing blow.
"And that's how you end up with your skull cracked open by prey sneaking up behind you."
"Have you quite finished what you came to say?"
"All done. Now then, I'm feeling peckish — I'll go grab some pastries."
Arendt waved a breezy hand at Benjamin and Helen, then strode off toward the far end of the hall without another word.
Laios let out a low groan. "I'm sorry about him. That boy's mouth is... a bit ill-mannered."
"...No. It's quite all right."
After a long moment of working her lips, Helen just barely managed the reply.
Ever conscious of the two pairs of eyes boring murderously into the back of his head, Arendt sank his hands deep into his pockets.
Somehow he only seemed to be getting more skilled at making people hate him. But there was nothing to be done about it. That was simply who Arendt von Eckhart was.
"Will he come bursting in from outside? Or from within?"
One small improvement over the novel's Arendt, at least, was that someone would sidle up and talk to him like this.
Arendt answered Arthur, who had drawn near without him noticing, with perfect indifference. "Hard to say. It'd be pointless to speculate at this stage."
Vincent would almost certainly have come alone, meaning he was likely disguised and concealed among the guests — but accounting for the golems at his command, the possibility of an assault from outside could hardly be dismissed either.
Neither scenario could be ruled out, so at this stage even prediction was impossible. Arthur seemed to accept the logic and nodded.
Richt, marching up in his turn, spoke as if in passing. "The outside is locked down tight by the Security Department, and Neumann verifies every insider personally. An infiltration shouldn't be easy."
"If the man could be stopped that easily, he wouldn't have gone to all that trouble in the first place. Besides, forging an identity isn't exactly a difficult undertaking."
It wasn't as though this world could cross-check every fingerprint the way the one Lee Su-hyeon had lived in could.
In any case, every hand available had been gathered and set upon the stage.
Perhaps it would fall just short of what was needed to avert the catastrophe.
But that comes down to the actor's ability.
Following the original scenario, this hall was destined to become the site of a wholesale massacre — a full descent into hell. Which meant he had to pull off a story of unambiguous good triumphing over evil, with the villain as the only casualty.
For a brief moment, as Arendt gazed out over the hall with its soft, unhurried music, his eyes darkened. Then, just as quickly, they returned to their usual shade of careless indifference.