The Festival of Silver Dust and Iron Blood (9)
Someday, the true identities of the two princesses under Gibraltar's protection would be exposed.
It had been that way when we took in Naria, and from the moment we accepted Astasia, we'd been on edge, full of worry. That's why, back then, I'd spoken to my father about it.
No matter the circumstances, we must always ensure their lives are protected.
An obvious statement, but obvious things have a way of loosening over time. Could the tension from assassination threats and information leaks really last a week, a month, a year? Not a chance. Even if they were careful and we were careful, it was only a matter of time before suspicions of their "absence" led someone to uncover the truth.
The kingdom had no princess. The empire had no imperial granddaughter. For anyone who stood to gain from their existence—or who had to eliminate them—it was inevitable they'd hunt them down. The real miracle was that they'd stayed hidden and safe this long.
But that miracle seemed to be over now.
Using vampires to corrupt mages, disguising the Flame Festival as a fire accident to burn them alive? Too bad.
Unfortunately for them, the assassination would fail.
"Hah—!"
Mente Knight swung her blade swiftly at the incoming flames. The mana fire vanished in an instant along the crescent-moon trajectory of her slash, leaving only stray embers scattering above and below.
"Tch."
A man clicking his tongue behind Naria reached out as he followed up.
"Barrier."
Paang!
A sphere of magical power flared to life, shielding Naria, Astasia, and even Robert.
"Phew."
I let out a deep breath of relief. An intermediate spell was no match for a mana barrier like that.
"I knew I could count on you, Viscount Hex."
"That's why you left this to me, right?"
Hex Romana. The reason I could slip away with just Carlos. Knowing he had Naria's back let me focus on killing Arshen.
"But what happened? I heard some monstrous roar echoing everywhere."
"A vampire appeared."
"Vam... what?"
Everyone's eyes went wide. I deliberately avoided looking at Astasia, but her face must have hardened in shock.
"Baron Arshen was turned into a thrall by a vampire."
"A thrall... you mean vampire?"
"Yes. One of those puppet-like vampires that only obey orders."
I'd have preferred to explain without Astasia present, but she needed to know too.
"Hold on. I met that guy just yesterday. Until yesterday afternoon, he was..."
"Fine, right? But he got turned. No idea exactly when, but maybe early this morning."
"Worst possible timing... If we'd met him this morning, I might've noticed something."
"The festival started in the morning—everyone was too busy enjoying it."
No helping it.
"Wait. You're not suspecting us, are you?"
"If it weren't a vampire, I might've. But since it is, no suspicions there."
If Baron Arshen had been in his right mind scattering those embers, sure, I'd suspect him. But vampires always have a master pulling strings.
"Terror aimed at Gibraltar, or at someone specific hiding here? Looks like we've got our answer on the target."
"Me, huh."
Naria's eyes trembled as she clenched her fists.
"They turned the festival into this just to kill me?"
"That flame just now was the last one Baron Arshen fired before dying. And..."
"Flare Javelin. Flame Spear. Not an Explosion spell—clearly a sniper shot straight into the sky."
Mente Knight stepped up beside me as she spoke, still scanning our surroundings.
"Targeted at Princess Naria. No doubt."
"Young master. This is dangerous. If a vampire turned Baron Arshen into a thrall..."
"It means his master vampire—the one who enslaved him—is still out there."
Just like Viscount Hex hadn't dropped the barrier yet.
"The problem is right now—"
"Young master Grey!!"
Carlos Knight's voice rang out from the arena side.
"Target subdued!!"
"Good work... but you're just carrying it like that?"
What Carlos hauled in with both hands was something straight out of a museum—a grotesque torso, arms and ribs below severed clean. What should have been on its neck dangled behind him, gripped by the hair like a rope by another knight.
No screams. No dripping blood. The pallid gray skin from vampirism made it look like a genuine marble statue.
"The severed parts..."
"Ground up gold coins, traditional method. The spine..."
"Good job sealing it. Make sure it stays put."
A 10,000-gold coin was plastered right in the center of the torso's neck stump.
"Did Baron Arshen say anything?"
"Nothing, unfortunately."
"Vampires can still talk without a head."
"Young master. You just said he became a mute puppet."
Robert Knight's words made me falter for a second. I pointed at the decapitated Baron Arshen's mouth.
"Think spitting out that gold coin might loosen his tongue?"
His mouth was stuffed full—1-gold, 10-gold, 100-gold pieces crammed in every which way. Gold coins kept spilling from his lips.
"Knight Carlos. Stake the torso to the ground like a wedge with a sword through the heart. Leave one coin in his mouth and shake the rest out."
"Wh-what...?"
"Looks like whoever turned Baron Arshen into a vampire wants to talk."
"......!!"
The knights tensed up but followed orders.
Thuk, thunk!
The torso hit the dirt far off, sword through its heart. Carlos grabbed the head with both hands and shook out the coins.
"Keh, kehhek! Cough! Way too rough handling, really."
"!!"
Everyone froze. A young woman's voice—impossible from the headless Baron Arshen, one we'd never heard—leaked out.
"Too much. Even vampires can sue for this treatment, y'know?"
"A vampire from the pollution zone all the way to Gibraltar? Suicide mission?"
"Heh heh heh. Young master of Gibraltar. You know who I'm after, right?"
Baron Arshen's tongue stretched long downward.
"Naria Geo Nostrum."
"......."
"If Nostrum's bloodline ends, that trash king stays king forever. Good for us, no? Hee hee hee..."
"Demons who couldn't cross Nostrum soil for 500 years, only nibbling at empire fringes."
"Wha...!"
"Some nameless monster pulling strings in Gibraltar?"
I pulled a few gold coins from my pocket.
"Thanks to your arrogant demon ass, we nearly had a disaster."
And hurled them one by one at Baron Arshen's face.
"Ha ha, useless. Toss all you want—only this human breaks... Aaaah!!"
"So? No more to say? Then scram, monster."
Targeting Naria Geo Nostrum? Fine, say it. But I couldn't let this vampire drop its mask, reveal its true nature, and spill everything.
"Ha, ha ha...! Nothing to say? Plenty! Your daddy nearly lost his head—over a princess hiding in Gibraltar of all places!!"
The vampire cackled, mouth gaping wide.
"Kyaha! Useless king's useless in bed too? How do you only have one kid! Hee hee, wait—no! Scared more kids would steal his throne!"
This vampire.
"What a guy! Even his own daughter—he'd use any means for power!!"
Switching to imperial tongue, trying to stir shit.
"Wh-what...?"
"Hold on. That means..."
"Don't listen to vampire nonsense!"
The knights exchanged uneasy glances, stirring. No one here missed the implication.
"My father sent a vampire to kill me?"
Naria stepped forward herself.
"Hee hee...! Maid outfit to hide, but at least dye your hair and eyes!"
"Blond hair, green eyes—not exactly rare."
Princess Naria scoffed dismissively at the vampire.
"Sent by father or not, you failed."
"......."
"You underestimated me."
Her tone turned cold and biting, unlike her usual demeanor.
"But more than that, you underestimated the place I infiltrated to protect myself—Gibraltar."
"Ha..."
"Maybe the one sending trash like you is the real incompetent?"
"You know who you're talking about and still run your mouth...?"
A chill ran down my spine for a moment.
Bad sign.
Familiar.
"Who?"
People don't change their core without earth-shattering events.
"Who cares. You failed. Idiot."
Naria— this princess wasn't what you'd call "nice." Reminded me of someone. Ethan Sezar? No—
—Hahaha! Our princess? She's got all kinds of talents!
'Palwood, was it.'
—Perfect word... hmm. Hate empire tongue, but nothing better fits.
Palwood Laron had said it once.
—Our fallen kingdom's princess has everything but personality. Ha ha. Can I say that? Whatever—before I die!
Naria Geo Nostrum's personality? "Poor" was the polite term, no matter how you spun it.
"Anyway, about you—"
"Y-young master Grey!!"
A familiar yet unfamiliar voice called from afar.
"From the margrave! He said... give you this sword...!"
"Father sent his sword?"
The blade White 36 brought was unmistakably my father's, but I paused in confusion.
'Father sending me this sword means—'
Many implications, but the moment I took the scabbard, I knew.
"Perfect timing."
The Gibraltar margrave's authority. Proof of command for knights outside the mansion in crisis.
"Princess Naria. One moment."
And right now, the perfect weapon.
"This vampire's linked to its thrall, Baron Arshen. If the texts are right..."
"A 'familiar' in this head?"
"Probably."
It had cast magic, so the brain wasn't eaten.
"Likely burrowed into the veins like a parasite."
"Wh-what...! Calling me a parasite...!"
"Either way, this sword will..."
"...Wai—t...?"
Arshen's eyes rolled in panic, scanning the Whites clustered behind me.
"Huh? What's this?"
"......!"
The Whites flinched at the vampire's gaze, then its eyes rolled to—
"Whoa, no way?"
Astasia.
"You, here too?"
The vampire's black pupils split vertically into red slits.
"Found you, you lit—"
Shwick!
A red arc cleaved Baron Arshen's head in two. Father's sword split it clean, then the wielder—executioner-like—sheathed it bloodless, scraping the ground as she stepped back.
"Hoo."
Naria exhaled sharply.
"Well, I'm here. Who's next?"
She glanced at me, words oddly casual.
"Pardon the interruption, Sir Grey."
"......Father would be the one offended."
Before the vampire could speak, Naria had snatched father's sword and sliced it.
"So this is a Sword Master's power. Impressive."
Not gold or silver, but something stronger—"aura"—clung to the blade.
"Ellie."
"......."
"Ellie."
Naria approached Astasia, calling her "Ellie."
"Pull yourself together."
"Hic?!"
"Why so startled? No need to apologize. If anything, I'm sorry. Showing my maid this side of me."
Naria awkwardly pulled Astasia into a light hug, patting her back.
"No need to worry. This is Gibraltar."
"Th-that's..."
"Thrall's dead. Master vampire gone too. Hmm... Grey Gibraltar?"
"Yes, Princess."
"I'll leave the rest to you."
One more thing. Princess Naria was a poor actress. But she stepped up anyway—quick on the uptake, if nothing else.
"Thank you, Princess Naria."
She'd caught it. The vampire spotting "Imperial Granddaughter Astasia," hidden beyond Gibraltar Canyon, in its final moments.
"First things first."
Priority one.
"...Leave cleanup to the knights. Head to Father's study."
Leave this place, discuss countermeasures in the safest spot.
"Even if it failed, the danger isn't gone."
The target had shifted. It would shift.
They'll go after Astasia now.
For a certain woman tied to vampires, personal gain trumped the empire's grand strategy—this new, bigger prize.
As someone who knew the future, with one secret I couldn't share:
—Just for you.
Hapsburg once spilled the empire's secret while drunk.
—Some bald geezer and a power-hungry woman had an affair. Daughter's her husband's, but the son's not.
Whatever. No point hiding it.
The current Tersian Emperor and Imperial Consort Isabella were having an affair.