The Hound Who Bowed His Head
"Wipe that look off your face."
"I'd rather not."
A burst of pure irritation answered Arthur's curt remark. Annoyance was written all over that still-boyish, snow-white face.
The reason such a handsome face was sulking was simple. He'd been granted medical leave to get some rest, and then he'd gotten himself caught by Laios while sneaking Warren out of the underground prison where he was being held.
In the end, the Commander had issued an order: someone was to stick to Arendt and keep watch over him at all times.
And the result of that order was this—half-locked in a room with Arthur, the unlucky knight who'd drawn surveillance duty.
So much to do, and mountains of it at that……
As Arendt sprawled out across the bed and let out a long, heavy sigh, Arthur taunted him.
"Who told you to sneak out in the first place? You think you've got nine lives or something? A guy who can barely hold a sword, wandering around like a stray—and what if someone jumps you, huh?"
"Tch."
He probably had two or three lives, actually, but it was a little disappointing that he couldn't say so out loud.
"Anyway, why'd you even go there? The second you heard the werewolf might wake up, you bolted straight over."
"Just needed to rub some salt in the wound. Getting smacked around like that still felt unfair, no matter how I thought about it."
"Yeah, well, I figured as much."
Clicking his tongue, Arthur sank deep into the chair he'd straddled backward.
"So what are you going to do? The seniors are starting to look at you like something's off."
"Let them stare all they want. I'm gorgeous from every angle—what can you do about it?"
"God, you're infuriating. Does the word 'restraint' simply not exist in your vocabulary?"
"What do you want me to do about it?"
Still flat on his back, Arendt didn't even lift his head as he answered dismissively.
He's a patient. He's injured. Hitting him now would gain me absolutely nothing…… Arthur fought hard to unclench his trembling fist.
The knights seemed to be slowly starting to question the fact that Warren had been transferred while frozen solid.
Arthur, who'd been there, had kept quiet about it, so no one had said anything outright—but the glances shot their way, brimming equally with curiosity and suspicion, were unavoidable.
As it stood, the only people who properly knew about the artifact in Arendt's possession were the two Commanders, the Crown Prince, Arthur, and Richt. Even if there'd been no way around it, having it revealed like this was far from ideal.
Arthur asked cautiously.
"So what's the plan? Are you going to make something up?"
"Hmm. Part of me thinks there's not much point in bothering at this stage."
But he himself seemed entirely indifferent to the matter.
Unable to stand it any longer, Arthur furrowed his brow.
"So you're just going to keep your mouth shut?"
"Well…… the one who goes out of his way to explain himself is the one who looks weird, isn't he? Even if the seniors are fools, they're not so stupid they'd go blabbing something like that to the whole world."
He'd kept Frost-Tinged Touch a secret because, back when he'd first fallen into this world, his relationship with the knights had been at rock bottom.
But circumstances had changed somewhat now. The charge of treason had been cleared long ago, and he'd gained a powerful backer in the Crown Prince besides.
At the very least, he was unlikely to be attacked by allies.
Arthur, who knew none of these inner workings, scrunched up his face in exasperation.
"Did you just call your senior stupid, you brat? Look, just be careful, all right? Keep this up and you'll really end up dead."
"I know, I know. You've said it so much my ears are growing calluses."
"When a person is talking to you, listen properly!"
"Yes, yes~."
Just as Arthur was about to explode again at the sight of the brat picking at his ear and answering without a shred of attention—
Knock, knock.
Someone rapped on the door.
"Arendt, you in there?"
"Yeah."
At the sound of that voice, Arendt shot up. Richt, who opened the door without waiting for an answer, wore a troubled expression as he spoke.
"……The Commander is calling for you."
"Why?"
Richt didn't answer right away. He simply stared at Arendt for a long moment with restless, troubled eyes, and then…… after quite a while, he asked an entirely unexpected question.
"What did you do?"
"Same question as Arthur Senior. I just gave him a hard time, that's all."
The question had no subject, but Arendt answered it without missing a beat. Only Arthur, who understood none of the context, looked back and forth between the two in confusion.
Richt led the two of them to an interrogation room attached to the underground prison.
Passing through the door guarded by knights, they entered to find Laios and Warren, seated across from him, greeting their new guests.
Warren looked far more vital than he had days ago.
With life returning to his mane of jet-black hair and his bronzed skin, he looked even more like a savage beast than before. His species' monstrous regenerative powers had evidently kicked in.
"How are the memories?"
"Intact. Just as you said."
Arendt skipped the pleasantries entirely, and Laios, likewise, answered the blunt question with practiced ease.
That settled it, then.
The fact that Warren had not been affected by Breath of Mnemosyne—the memory-erasing artifact—meant that he had no direct connection to the Evil God Cult.
"Why was I called here?"
"It was his request. He wanted to speak where you were present."
That, too, was roughly the answer Arendt had expected.
Even in restraints, Warren showed little sign of resistance. He simply maintained his composure throughout, quietly watching Arendt.
Laios added calmly,
"He says that if possible, he wishes to surrender."
"I'm sorry—what?"
Arendt's unwanted tagalong, Arthur, let out a startled cry without meaning to.
This was why Richt had looked so troubled when he came to fetch them.
A man who had only just attacked Imperial Knights was suddenly pledging to surrender? And the last person to make contact with Warren had been none other than Arendt.
As if to reward that disbelief, Warren spoke up.
"I doubted you'd believe a word I said if that fool weren't here too. I've no particular desire to see his face, but I requested his presence out of necessity."
"……What on earth did you do to him?"
Arendt merely shrugged his one good shoulder as Arthur, who'd been gaping for a long moment, finally managed to mutter.
"I told you. Just rubbed some salt in the wound."
Warren's face twisted, apparently remembering that conversation.
"Oh, you rubbed plenty. Enough that I'd like to snap your neck right now, this very moment. But since I held back and made my decision regardless, I'd ask you to listen carefully, Commander."
"This isn't a matter I can decide on my own. But lay out the circumstances, and I'll take them under advisement."
Laios, glancing once at Arendt, responded with measured calm.
"Whatever the outcome, however, you must answer for taking lives and joining in crime. Knowing that—why do you insist on surrendering?"
"I've already resigned myself to that. But your man here said something to me. If you want to see your goal achieved, don't be picky about your methods."
A spark flared in Warren's deep blue eyes as he said it.
"And it's not wrong. I've already bowed my head to humans and played the hunting dog. If I keep hesitating now, I'll only make more of a fool of myself."
The smoldering anger in his low voice was aimed squarely at Arendt.
"But first, I want a promise. You raised this matter first, so you will see it through without fail. Promise me that you'll crush Rebecca and her syndicate to the last stone. If you cannot swear to that, then I'll simply take my own life here and now."
"I'll guarantee it myself."
The one who answered was not Arendt, but Laios. Meeting the wolf's gaze head-on, Laios swore without a flicker of hesitation.
"It is the duty of our Imperial Knights to drive out the Empire's enemies. In other words, it was work we'd have to do sooner or later anyway."
"……I thought your order was nothing but lunatics from the lowest man up, and it turns out it does have one sane person in it."
Warren blinked, visibly taken aback. At the same time, Laios's resolute expression soured somewhat.
"……That one's just a freak of nature."
"Commander, are you drawing a line right now?"
"Close that mouth or I'll close it for you."
Having silenced the damn apprentice knight chattering away behind him, Laios turned his attention back to Warren.
"In any case—let's hear the rest of it. Pay no mind to him. Where did you get the information about the artifact?"
"Rebecca told me. If I explain from the beginning, it may turn into a rather sordid story."
Choosing his words with care, Warren fell silent for a while before speaking again.
"I was cast out of my clan just after coming of age. While drifting outside, I came across a human family."
Those excessively plain words carried a whole life's worth of story compressed inside them. Arendt's guess that there was a history behind it had been exactly right.
Arendt nudged him along gently.
"Go on. Details."
"It's tediously personal, but if it's necessary, so be it. When I was young, I broke the rules of my pack and was exiled. Let's just say I couldn't hold back my bloodlust and leave it there—it's not what matters now. Anyway, I wandered alone until I settled in a small human village in the mountains. And so I came to have a father and a younger brother."
Werewolves, creatures of instinct, tended to prize the pack they belonged to above all else. Driven out of his original one, he had gone searching for a new pack of his own making and melted into it.
"Cultivating herbs and selling them to merchant guilds was the village's main source of income. One of our most important buyers was Rebecca's syndicate…… and Rebecca herself visited the village regularly."
"That syndicate's been coming up a lot."
"That syndicate is Rebecca's true body, you might say. The gambling dens, the black market, the exchange houses you all cracked down on—those are merely branches grown out from the root. At any rate, from the very first moment she saw me, the woman took an interest."
Answering Laios's question calmly, Warren continued slowly.
"She kept expressing her feelings for me, and uncomfortable with it, I kept refusing her, however indirectly. Then one day, I overheard my father and Rebecca arguing."
He had learned that the herbs they grew and sold were being used for illegal purposes.
"My father said he wouldn't sell them another crop. But Rebecca threatened him instead. She said he'd best keep his mouth shut, unless he wanted to watch the whole village burn."
And Warren, watching from where he'd fallen, had found his eyes meeting Rebecca's.
It was still vivid in his memory.
The way she'd narrowed her eyes and smiled that beautiful smile, right in front of his father.
"Rebecca was clearly threatening my father—but her words applied just as much to me. A few dozen human mercenaries? I could tear them apart easily enough. But the woman's weapons weren't only the kind carried in the hands of fighters."
A person who, if she wished, could strangle the economy of an entire village and leave every soul in it destitute on the roadside.
Arthur, who had been listening in silence, couldn't contain his curiosity and cut in.
"So? You joined up with her to protect your family?"
"……I was the one who sought her out first."
He had known it instinctively.
From the very first moment their eyes had met, Warren had understood exactly what Rebecca truly wanted from him.
He had simply kept turning his face away from it, all this time.
A bitter smile settled on Warren's lips.
"So I played the part of a man fallen in love with her. I've been playing it ever since, right up to this very day."