The Day After the Lord's Death
Philes Manor was turned upside down the day after the lord's death. It all began with the scream of the servant who entered to wake him, just as always.
"Kyaaah!"
The reason for that scream spread instantly to everyone in the manor.
"The, the lord!"
"He's dead!"
Chaos erupted in the manor, and before half a day had passed, all the knights were summoned. Ten knights excluding Grant, who couldn't yet walk due to his crushed ankle, and the mysteriously absent Captain Cran.
The first thing they witnessed was the lord's corpse, half-rotted as if dead for dozens of days, and a familiar sword embedded near its heart.
The state of the body and the identity of the sword were enough to plunge the knights into confusion.
"Wh-what the hell...?!"
"A body rotting like that... I've definitely heard of it somewhere."
"...It's what happens when a black mage dies."
"No way!"
For even the smallest territory, a noble of the empire being a black mage? If true, it was a bigger problem than the lord's death.
And the sword plunged into his heart—one everyone knew its owner.
"That sword... it's Sir Cran's..."
"No way the captain?"
"Nah, impossible."
The knight order was small, only twelve including the captain. No one was unaware of how close the captain had been to the lord. But there was a snag.
"Actually... he did seem a bit off the last few days."
The bald knight Ram glanced uncomfortably at his comrades, and Gren beside him nodded in agreement.
"Yeah. The captain was pissed. Because of that kid. Talk of him being the next captain after just a few days."
"But would the captain assassinate the lord over that? Come on."
"Yeah, unless he's lost his mind..."
"No way."
Everyone shook their heads, but the captain still hadn't appeared, leaving only the half-rotted corpse and grim reality before them.
Above all, they weren't in a position to investigate the truth themselves.
"This is beyond us. We need to call a priest."
"Yeah, we have to."
Watching Gren bite his lip, the knights sent a servant to summon the temple priest of the territory.
With no wife or children—the lord had never married despite his age—the knights were the only ones who could handle this.
Gren, who had somehow become the leader of the remaining knights, clutched his aching head and sighed.
'He said he didn't trust women after a broken engagement in his youth... or was it because he was a black mage?'
Black mages, who took in the power of demons contrary to the world, couldn't have heirs normally. Now it made sense why the womanizing lord had remained single, but the biggest question remained unsolved.
'A noble becoming a black mage? Abandoning noble blood and honor, risking certain execution if discovered? Why?'
Questions piled up, but they couldn't get answers from the already dead lord. His death and the captain's absence were just bewildering for now.
And soon, the old priest arrived and put a period on the chaos.
"...D-demonic energy, confirmed! Th-this... I must report to the diocese immediately."
As Philes' old priest, Griem, left those shocking words, the knights' faces twisted in unison.
"As expected..."
"Ugh."
"Damn it!"
"How could this...!"
The territory's lord dead suddenly, with no heir. And a black mage at that, the presumed culprit being the vanished knight captain. Even the dimmest could guess the massive fallout if this got out.
"Gren, what now?"
"Hah, damn. The imperial court will send investigators. They'll decide."
"And us?"
"Wait quietly for a new lord, or leave and find one."
At those words, the other knights exchanged uneasy glances.
Truth be told, none here were what you'd call skilled. Even Gren, second son of a baron's house, had barely qualified as a knight after showing some mana talent with a family's low-grade cultivation method. The others were no different.
And the youngest among them was over thirty, so no guarantee of better treatment elsewhere. Honestly, none at all.
"...Become free knights, maybe."
"Mercenaries at our age?"
"No, let's wait. The new lord might need knights. Probably a nouveau riche."
Getting hired by the new lord. That was the only positive option.
"Yeah, right."
Ram's hopeful words changed the knights' eyes. But for that—and their future standing—
"We need to at least grasp the facts of this incident."
The other knights nodded gravely at Gren's words. Even setting aside the black mage lord, no noble would keep knights who did nothing while their lord died.
Starting the investigation, they luckily had many witnesses to the captain's last sighting.
"I heard fighting from the armory and went to check. Tiny was badly hurt, apologizing to the captain."
The servants' accounts matched, naturally leading the knights to summon the territory's latest hot topic: the boy.
The future reserve knight captain, looking shocked and dejected by the lord's death, sighed deeply—far beyond his years—as he testified.
"The lord said he'd grant me gear, so I followed. The captain attacked me out of nowhere. Didn't get the gear, of course."
Showing his bruised eye, the boy's demeanor seemed far more humble than the rumors.
Gren's eyes sharpened as he pressed.
"We checked the armory. There were signs of a fight, but the captain clearly left. Haven't seen him since?"
"No, sir."
"Really? Nothing else unusual?"
"He grumbled roughly about the lord favoring me... but haven't seen him since."
The captain doing that? Unbelievable, but it matched the servants. Gren couldn't find a reason for the favored boy to lie and nodded wearily.
"I see. You're dismissed."
"Um..."
"Yes?"
"What about me? The lord guaranteed my future..."
Seeing the greed in those shaking black eyes, Gren sighed softly.
'Slum rat, huh.'
Unable to grasp the situation, worrying only about immediate safety—it was pitiful.
'Talent shines, but thinking too shallow.'
Environment shapes people, so maybe natural.
"...With your skill at that age, you'll lead anywhere. Don't get tangled with a dead black mage."
"Pardon?"
Gren chuckled at the boy's confusion. Like the others, he envied the talent, but he also wanted to see this young genius grow properly. Even as a has-been, helping nurture a historical prodigy would give his life meaning.
The last conscience of a Philes knight—less rotten than most—stirred uncharacteristically.
"Playing in rotten water just rots your talent. Think of it as lucky, go to bigger waters. Advice from a senior in life."
"Ah, got it."
The mumbled reply wasn't satisfying, but no need to push. Even geniuses get crushed unbloomed. Impulse satisfied.
Above all, now he needed to worry about himself.
"We're screwed... Need a tracking mage to find the captain..."
And the boy eyed Gren muttering that, then quietly left.
'A knight here with a proper head?'
Tiny tilted his head, recalling the advice. Past life memories: all rotten. He'd smashed them all upon return. This face wasn't among them, though.
Leading the investigation into the lord's death suggested some respect among knights.
'Why no memory of him?'
Things had diverged plenty from his past life, so the question faded. Maybe this fish barely surviving rotten waters would leave soon—explaining the absence.
'Doesn't matter now.'
The captain's body was dumped in the woods outside the castle at dawn. Seemingly sloppy, but unfindable. No mages here, and even if called later, they'd probe the dead lord over the missing captain.
By then, beasts would have eaten the corpse. Old Hins handled countless unclaimed bodies for good reason.
So now.
'Time to go.'
Black mage revealed—imperial involvement certain. Purpose achieved: draw attention, block the lord's backers. But downside: no point waiting for ducal elites. Imperials handling it meant no interference over "mere" trafficking or prostitution.
So, head straight to Valentia Duchy.
Luckily, something reliable remained.
'This ring.'
Fiddling Cloi's ring, Tiny smiled and headed to his room.
And the next day.
As the assassination's aftermath lingered in the manor, Tiny quietly packed and left his room.
No need for secrecy—vanishing wordlessly would be suspicious. To leave no doubt, he sought Gren first.
"Leaving?"
"Yes."
"Hm, with things like this... can't stop you. Where to?"
Could've bullshitted, but as a knight who'd genuinely worried, no need to lie. Honesty to sincerity was his creed.
"Thinking Valentia Duchy. Gonna try big waters."
Gren chuckled approvingly.
"...Following my advice? Quite different from rumors. Fine."
Not quite, but no need to correct. Awkward smile, then Gren tossed a small pouch.
Thud.
"...?"
"Take it. Travel money. Kid or not, doubt bandits touch you, but get a mercenary tag just in case. Proves skill if looks fool someone."
"...Thank you."
"Heh, face says otherwise. Whatever. If you succeed, remember my name."
"...Your name, sir?"
"What! Didn't know till now? Ha, really... Sigh. Fine. Gren. Gren Liberty. Dropped middle name after leaving family—just Gren."
"I'll remember."
"Honored, future one of the Seven Knights."
Gren bowed exaggeratedly, making Tiny chuckle unwittingly. Only seven superhumans on the continent, so the joke fit—but coincidental for him.
"I'm Tiny. Hope you remember too, Sir Gren."
The confident attitude drew Gren's smile.
"Of course. How forget a monster kid like you?"
"...You just saved several."
"...What?"
"Nothing. Farewell."
Tiny turned without lingering. Temper wanted to smash the lord's cronies and remaining knights—especially Ram, who backed Wolf's gang.
But finding one decent human among Philes' irredeemable knights felt oddly satisfying.