The Duke's Directive
“Huh? Those guys are coming to the capital?”
“Yes, according to the Blackwing report, it was due to Sir Tiny's strong insistence……”
“……Jenas must have wanted it too. Even if he didn't say it, he was probably hurt deep down.”
Eschard von Valentia sighed in response to Garen Clemens, one of Blue Wing's vice-captains. Seeing Garen nod in agreement only drew another sigh from him, but at this point, there was nothing to do but accept the situation. What was done was done.
“That rascal Tiny—when he gets here, I'm going to give him a proper attitude adjustment. Changing something this important on his own whim.”
The duke clenched his fist, words that would send chills down the spine of whoever was racing madly toward the capital Asrian right now. But then—
“Is there any real reason we have to send the captain and Sir Tiny all the way to Elvenheim?”
Garen piped up with a counterpoint.
“Hm?”
He tilted his head innocently, meeting the duke's steady gaze without flinching. It was well-known that the knights of House Valentia were close to their lord, but Garen took it to an extreme.
That's why I appointed him vice-captain in the first place, though.
Times like this, when he poked into matters that couldn't be fully explained, were a bit annoying.
“……Because the demon worshippers targeting the holy relics was revealed in the Karon incident.”
“Hasn't the king of Karon already informed the Magic Tower and the other great races' hubs? Do we really need to send our own people?”
“You think reclusive types like the elves will listen to a one-sided warning from us? We'd have to go in person, deliver the message, and convince them to act.”
“And that has to be the captain and Sir Tiny specifically? I have a friend in Elvenheim myself.”
“……What?”
The pointed retort stung, but the follow-up caught his attention even more.
“An elf friend?”
“Yes.”
“……You've had an elf friend?”
“Last year, when we went to Rothman territory to handle monsters, I met an envoy heading back to Elvenheim. We became friends.”
An elf—who shunned humans—befriending one by chance?
Even if envoys value experience, for an elf to call someone a 'friend' means something different from humans.
As the duke eyed him suspiciously, Garen pulled a neatly tied bundle of sky-blue hair from his pocket, as if he'd expected this. It looked like the end of a long lock, cut and bound.
Clearly a symbol given when elves acknowledged another race as a friend.
The duke knew Garen wasn't the type to fake something like this with random hair, so he could only ask in bewilderment.
“……For real?”
“Yes.”
“……How?”
“Just…… got along well?”
Garen tilted his head at the duke's incredulous question, drawing an involuntary chuckle. Truth be told, Garen had an uncanny knack for making friends everywhere across the continent. That was why the duke had brought him instead of Drexler this time—his connections in the capital could prove useful.
Though they'd gone to waste, this was the same guy who'd written a letter of recommendation to Gale Anderson, the Mage of Tides, for Tiny's sake.
Come to think of it, wasn't his trip to Karon just once?
He'd brushed it off as some family tie back then, but maybe there was more to it.
“……'Got along well' how?”
“If you open your heart and treat good people sincerely, most become friends in no time.”
The duke nearly rolled his eyes at such an infuriatingly earnest platitude from a subordinate he'd known for nearly twenty years. Did this guy have some special ability?
“……Why are you looking at me like that?”
“It's just…… never mind. Actually, that's perfect. When they arrive, send you with them. I wish I'd known sooner.”
“……I didn't even know the captain was gone. Now that I do, I told you.”
There was a hint of sulkiness in his voice—being left out of the loop.
“Yeah, yeah. My fault.”
Another wry chuckle escaped at rediscovering his old subordinate's oddly competent quirks, but it was positive overall.
“Jenas aside, tell Tiny to disguise himself before entering the capital. Oh, obviously no magical transformation—just a regular disguise. Dyeing his hair like Jenas would change his look plenty.”
They needed to avoid drawing enemy eyes unnecessarily.
It might already be too late, but we have to try.
……Or so he thought, but Garen spoke up hesitantly.
“That…… might be tough right now.”
“What?”
“They're moving too fast, barely stopping at cities along the way. We probably won't reach them before they arrive.”
“……That's a problem.”
The duke's brow furrowed. The Knight of Glory was the hottest topic in Asrian right now. The shock of the legendary sea beast Kraken's appearance lingered worldwide—even the haughty Empire couldn't dismiss it as frontier rumors.
If that guy showed up in the capital, every eye would be on him.
“Don't worry too much. Sir Tiny's smart enough to disguise himself if he thinks of it.”
Garen seemed optimistic, but the duke shook his head firmly.
“Don't expect that from the idiot.”
Cough.
“……Pardon?”
Garen nearly choked on his words at the blunt tone. He'd heard the duke griped about teaching the young genius, but this was harsh.
“……But the captain's with him, right?”
“That one's never listened to anyone. He's got convictions to go with his brute strength. That's why he's ignoring me and coming here.”
Grind.
Garen could only chuckle awkwardly at the duke gnashing his teeth. This was straight-up calling him a fool.
A genius acknowledged by all in martial arts and mana. But dumb?
Is this what they mean by the gods' fairness?
A bit disconcerting, but there was a countermeasure.
“……We might be able to intervene before they enter the capital.”
“How?”
“The captain and Sir Tiny are coming almost straight here. Send someone along their route to warn them.”
“You know how many eyes are on our house right now? Blackwing's forces are tied up in the east from the last incident.”
“Of course. But it's doable without using house members. Luckily, I know a knight in the capital's outer patrol.”
“Oh? Nice.”
Garen nodded at the duke's impressed look.
“Of course. He'll handle it if I ask.”
He didn't mention that the knight, Baron Graeme von Liberty, was a friend he'd made just three days ago. He trusted Graeme, but most people didn't trust recent acquaintances.
His excellent lord was no exception, from experience.
Or is he? With Sir Tiny……
The absurd genius kid had stayed with the house barely two months—and earned the duke's trust and tutelage almost immediately.
……He talks like that, but he trusts him deeply, doesn't he?
Oblivious to the shift in Garen's gaze, the duke ground his teeth and continued.
“Fine. Handle that, and tell them to come straight to me upon arrival. Tiny can play manservant to Jenas? Yeah, even that's too good for him.”
* * *
“Pfhew!”
The grand sneeze nearly snuffed out the fledgling campfire, but it roared back to red-hot life.
“Damn, someone's badmouthing me.”
Tiny wiped his nose sheepishly and played it off, but Jenas chuckled from where he tended the fire beside him.
“Just two more days, Tiny. You're really good at this camping life. No need to hit any cities.”
He meant it sincerely, but Tiny could only smile wryly.
His childhood routine: burlap rags on the streets, clutching a starving belly to sleep.
Compared to that, a warming fire and full stomach now was pure luxury.
Lost in those memories, an unpleasant one surfaced.
When was it……?
Twenty years later, just before the apocalypse. A few years after the duke and Cloi barely stabilized the chaotic Empire.
With public sentiment foul, they'd banned noble extravagance and debauchery to build internal strength—even forbidding the traditional noble pastime of hunting. Soon, deranged nobles started wild antics.
Under the guise of 'roughing it,' they hauled luxuries to hunting grounds, using and discarding them once.
'Enjoying discomfort,' was it?
Their bizarre slogan spawned fake 'commoner experiences'—camping, or rather, a trendy mental illness. It was absurd.
He'd even taken a commission to rein in noble discipline, and some fool picked a fight.
—Try it sometime, sir. Every noble should experience the common life…… Ah, your origins……? S-Sorry! I didn't mean—
Gahhh!
Kindly reminding him of his own street days, Tiny gave the guy a week of 'authentic' lodging and meals.
One jerky strip a day, of course. He loved it so much, they called him Jerky instead of his name.
Afterward, the guy froze at eye contact but never spouted that nonsense again. Cure complete.
What was his name? That…… uh, what was it?
As the capital loomed, such random memories bubbled up, drawing a fresh laugh. Then—
“Ah! Before we reach the capital, you should disguise yourself at least—I don't need to. Here's some dye I used……”
Hm, will this work?
Jenas pulled out a strange jar, tilting his head.
“……Why bother disguising?”
Tiny asked calmly—a question that would make some capital noble's blood boil.
“Hm? Don't you realize how far the rumors about you have spread? Entering like that would make moving around impossible.”
Not wrong, but Tiny had his logic.
“Anyone who needs to know will know anyway. We've not hidden our path here.”
Those 'who need to know' were the demon worshippers watching them—sounded reasonable.
But Jenas smiled patiently, like soothing a child.
“There's a difference between those in the know and everyone knowing. And Asrian has far more people than you think.”
Tiny knew Asrian overflowed with people. But something else nagged.
“If the disguise fails and we're caught, won't that look more suspicious?”
He worried more about the fallout from the Kraken incident—not ignorance of its shock, but fear of the ripples.
Demon worshippers aside, if the imperial family notices me……
A needless disguise sneaking into Asrian could twist things unpredictably.
Tiny explained calmly; Jenas nodded thoughtfully.
“Hm, that's fair……”
After brief deliberation, Jenas shelved the disguise.
But a day later—
“A message from Duke Eschard von Valentia.”
An unexpected imperial guard knight appeared, overturning Tiny's stance.
“Disguise mandatory. If the Knight of Glory refuses…… the duke said to give you the beating of your life. Haha, the duke has quite the sense of humor.”
Jenas looked troubled; Tiny sighed deeply without thinking.
“Ha, shit……”
Humor? No way.
One hundred percent serious! Fuck.
Scowling at the irksome order, Tiny tilted his head at the knight's familiar face.
“Huh? Y-You…… who was it?”
“Pardon? Ah, I'm Graeme von Liberty, knight of the outer wall patrol. I hold a nominal barony, though nothing compared to the fame of the Knight of Glory or the Knight of the North Wind……”
Perplexed by the sudden question, Graeme answered dutifully.
“Don't worry about leaks—absolutely no one knows I took a day off to come here.”
“No, it's not that……”
“I stake my honor and Sir Garen's on keeping silent!”
Graeme declared solemnly, but the reply was baffling.
“……Jerky!?”
“……Pardon?”
On the plains a day from Asrian.
After brief commotion, Tiny's hair dyeing was settled.