An Unprecedented Omen

I had assumed that Gloriana's Insignia would be of the greatest help to House Castrein above all else.

More specifically, that it would prove invaluable in reinforcing and maintaining the Northern Barrier.

With every passing day, the Northern Barrier grew ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠steadily weaker, and there was no definitive solution in sight. The Founding Emperor, Alcharianus, had erected the barrier long ago by borrowing the power of other heroes alongside his own. The powers of every element interlocked to complement one another, sustaining the ward. Yet as centuries rolled by, that primordial strength inevitably began to fade.

The annual Offering Festival was originally meant to repair that very barrier. Fundamentally, however, one of the requirements set by the First Emperor to sustain the barrier was the proof of all elemental powers.

What good was House Castrein's desperate effort to protect and intermarry with the descendants of fallen heroes to keep their bloodlines alive, when not even the imperial family could wield the Power of Light? Occasionally, a relative born with divine power like Lisianthus emerged within the ducal family, but a single generation had never produced descendants capable of commanding every element. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Even if they had, without the Power of Light, the circle remained broken and incomplete.

Therefore, my reason for giving them a weapon the ducal house could not even wield had been simple: whether they melted it down or found a way to absorb its energy, they were to use it as an item to reinforce the barrier.

And yet, they were offering to lend it back to me?

"Oldest Brother, who's acting head of the family, agreed that it would be best," Bibi said through the communication stone.

Loss for words, I stared blankly at her. Bibi looked right back at me with wide, earnest eyes.

"After all, it will help you, Sister."

"...It was exchanged as a condition of the deal with House Castrein, wasn't it?"

Then again, seeing me swing the Emoticon Sword around to bash demonic beasts into pulp and having once requested to briefly borrow Gloriana's Insignia, it wasn't completely unreasonable for House Castrein to assume the relic would be of great use to me.

Right on cue, the Emoticon Sword piped up in my mind.

Instinctively, I stole a glance at Lisianthus and Debbie standing beside me. How long had it been since Lisianthus handed me those estate cards and badges as part of our arrangement? Duke Castrein was no fool. He had declared he would watch me, which meant his eyes had been on me the entire time. Yet he had personally authorized the relic's removal from the vault...

"All right," I gave in.

Pride was a luxury meant for the living. It was only yesterday that I had nearly died in an ambush by demonic beasts and enemies, barely surviving because Raymon rode in himself to save me. Rather than twisting my body and shrieking, 'I cannot possibly accept this!', it was far wiser to take it for now and work out a way to repay the debt later. Reaching a swift conclusion, I nodded.

"Thank you for looking out for me, Bibi. I'll borrow it with gratitude for the time being."

Bibi stared at me with slightly startled eyes, as if expecting me to refuse, before bursting into a radiant smile.

"...Yes, Sister! I'll come see you very soon!"

"*Sigh*..."

My desire to dissuade her from walking into such a dangerous place was burning strong even now, but what could I do? She was emphasizing her duty as a daughter of House Castrein. The best I could do was pray she would drag an entire battalion of elite guards along to keep herself safe.

After exchanging a few brief farewells, I terminated the connection with Bibi.

Exhaling a lukewarm sigh, I went to wave my hand dismissively when sheer horror gripped me. I was still clutching Raymon's forearm! What was worse, my palm was clammy with nervous sweat. Mortified, I snatched my hand back as if burned.

"Wait, I was still holding on?! Y-You should have just told me to let go... or pulled your arm away! That must have been so annoying."

Raymon stared down at the arm I had just released, hesitating before he spoke in a low voice.

"It was not annoying."

"Ah, right..."

"Nor was it painful."

"...Well, obviously, I wasn't grabbing you to hurt you. My grip isn't nearly that strong."

"You were ridiculously strong when you pinched me, though," a thoroughly sour voice cut in. "Guess you pick and choose who to use your muscle on, huh?"

I snorted at Lisianthus's petty grumbling. Hearing his younger brother's remark, Raymon's brow twitched.

"...Did Lisianthus do something to you?"

"Hey, why are you asking like that?!"

"Because she said she had to pinch you."

"Ah."

A true eldest son through and through, it seemed Raymon couldn't help fretting over his siblings causing trouble. I brushed it off with an easy laugh.

"It was nothing important, honestly. More importantly—come on, everyone! Since Bibi is heading our way, let's pull ourselves together and prepare for the Offering Festival!"

I clapped my hands briskly. "Gather round, everyone, let's work out the plan!"

As I bustled about, Raymon's gaze lingered on my back, inscrutable and fathomless.

A foul, suffocating stench hung heavy in the air.

The site was a desolate ruin.

Blood, putrid fluid, pitch-black stains, and scorched ash smeared across the earth in grotesque tangles. The mangled, pulverized limbs of monstrous creatures lay strewn about like discarded rubbish. A single glance was enough to fathom the sheer carnage that had unfolded here. Yet instead of recoiling in horror, the voice that broke the silence was calm, reporting the situation with practiced precision.

"Here, too, are the traces of a mutant demonic beast. Not a single living specimen remains, and no mana cores were left behind."

Duke Ortho Castrein drew a long, deep drag from a cigar steeped in a specialized medicinal extract, exhaling a thick plume of smoke. With every slow exhale, the agonizing pain that gnawed relentlessly at his body dulled by an inch. Only after flexing his numb fingertips to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠ensure he still had full command over his limbs did the Duke step forward toward the gruesome scene.

"The designations of these beasts?"

"...As before, not a single one has been identified."

Looking down at his adjutant, who bowed his head in profound apology, Duke Ortho fell silent.

It was not a failure of competence on the adjutant's part. The varieties of demonic beasts were overwhelmingly vast, numbering in the hundreds, perhaps thousands. Over decades of slaughtering them, names had been assigned to those that were exceptionally perilous or distinctive, allowing House Castrein to compile a comprehensive database of its own.

Yet there remained countless beasts that bore no name at all.

Ever since the barrier began to falter, abnormally powerful monstrosities had begun to crawl into the light—creatures of unprecedented might. Once a season, a beast formidable enough to demand the knight commander's blade would appear. Once every five years emerged an abomination requiring the entire knight order to subdue. And once a decade came a nightmare that could not be checked unless the strongest direct bloodline of House Castrein took the field in person.

Roughly fifteen years ago, Duke Ortho had stood alone against one such beast.

It had been a monstrous creature resembling a three-headed wolf. Had he failed to strike it down, several cities would have been wiped clean off the map. He prevailed, and he survived, but that was where his fortune ended. He had sustained deep, irreversible wounds, and because they could never be fully healed, his condition had steadily deteriorated ever since. Bibi had managed to discover a rare flower capable of easing his suffering, but it was merely a temporary palliative. Even when boiling down its essence to cure his cigars, the relief was fleeting at best.

The Duke spoke ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in a low, measured rumble.

"I have never once heard of demonic beasts engaging in cannibalism."

"Indeed, Your Grace! As you commanded, we combed through the archives, but found no record whatsoever. We even sent an urgent inquiry to Young Master Lasper at the main estate just in case, but he confirmed that no such phenomenon has ever been documented."

"Young as he is, no one haunts the library more thoroughly than that boy. It is simpler to accept that this is an unprecedented calamity."

The Duke let out a dry, humorless chuckle.

Once Raymon had grown mature and capable enough, the Duke had entrusted him with the duties of acting head of the household and taken it upon himself to roam the most treacherous frontiers. For now, yes, he could still handle ordinary beasts. Even after he died, so long as Raymon and Lisianthus joined forces, the house would not be in dire peril.

After all, it was to lighten the burden resting upon the next generation of House Castrein that his wife had stubbornly insisted on bearing three children, despite his vehement objections.

'If I push myself to bear three children with vessels capable of awakening the Divine Power... that's right. Because I will be pouring all my strength into those children, I will leave you and die before my time.'

Even now, the Duke could vividly recall that fragile, heart-wrenching smile. A woman with the gentle grace of a weeping willow, who looked upon the almighty Duke Ortho as if he were merely a vulnerable child. A woman who harbored genuine pity for the Iron-Blooded Duke, whom even the Emperor feared in secret.

'...Do you have no pity to spare for me?'

Perhaps that had been the first and last time in his life that Duke Ortho had ever uttered words of weakness.

When his only sister walked out the front gates in defiance of House Castrein's ruthless policies, he had not reached out to hold her back. When his father succumbed to old wounds sustained on the beast front, or when his mother collapsed and drew her final breath from overworking to manage the family's internal affairs, he had never once lost his composure. It was not unexpected, and the dead would never have wished for him to falter.

Yet despite marrying her with full knowledge of the cost, despite agreeing to have children knowing what lay ahead, an unbearable thought had suddenly seized his heart.

To hell with children. To hell with this wretched empire, the ducal house, and that godforsaken barrier. He had the confidence to protect her, and her alone, until the very end of the world, so why not abandon it all...?

'I love you.'

He had known, with absolute certainty, that he could not bear to exist in a world without her.