Chapter 96
Chapter 96
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 96
Chapter Title: The Commander's Blunder
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“It’s an honor to serve you, Sir Damian.”
Sir Nil Gage, commander of the capital guard.
His skills were only slightly above average, but he had a knack for reading the currents of power.
When Damian arrived at guard headquarters, he immediately arranged a private meeting.
He saw building a connection with Damian as more important than handling this incident.
“I’ve heard tales of your striking looks for years, but lately, they seem to come up less often.”
He offered tea with a cheeky grin. While praising Damian’s appearance, he heaped even more praise on his accomplishments.
It wasn’t an exaggeration to say he’d sweet-talked his way into becoming guard commander.
“Let’s get to the point.”
“Hahaha. Of course. I wouldn’t dream of wasting your precious time.”
But to Damian, he was a man of little value.
He’d managed to hold onto his position during times of peace, but when civil war broke out, his true colors showed.
He hadn’t sided with either the reformists or the legitimists. Nor had he maintained neutrality as guard commander.
Instead, he’d fled—abandoning the capital and the soldiers who’d loyally followed him despite their duties.
The capital guard held considerable prestige. Apart from Nil’s inadequacy, it was full of talented individuals.
But without a commander to lead them, the guard couldn’t fulfill its role.
The horrors of the civil war didn’t come solely from the reformists or legitimists.
With the chains that had restrained them gone, beastly opportunists ran rampant.
The capital—the empire’s most splendid city—fell into ruin, not to reformists or legitimists, but to rampaging mobs.
If the capital guard had functioned properly, that tragedy might have been averted.
In that sense, Nil was complicit in the civil war’s atrocities.
Of course, that was all in the past now. And preventing such events in the future was one of Damian’s goals.
Along the way, smooth-talkers like Nil would naturally fall by the wayside.
Oblivious to Damian’s true thoughts, Nil kept flashing his affable smile.
“The thing is, those two we caught yesterday keep claiming they’re close to you, Sir Damian. Hahaha. Obviously not, right? Still, protocol demands it, so if you could just confirm, we’ll punish them right away.”
“You’re right.”
“Yes, then we’ll proceed with punishment immedia— What did you say?”
“They’re acquaintances of mine from the south.”
“…Hahaha! The Mage Tower must have a unique sense of humor. A brute like me can’t quite grasp it….”
“No joke. We can bill the annex for any damages from the disturbance.”
Nil’s face rapidly soured.
‘No way….’
When the disturbance erupted at the warp gate, he’d thought the heavens had handed him an opportunity.
Damian Renekht’s visit to the south had been top secret, ending in the purge of Byzantine’s underworld.
Afterward, plenty in the south claimed ties to Damian. All lies, of course.
He’d figured these two were the same.
He’d planned a swift execution, but then heard Damian was returning to the capital.
By dragging these beggars before him and cozying up, he’d pave a bright future for himself.
In truth, it was the worst blunder imaginable.
‘There’s no way that makes sense!’
Those claiming false ties to Damian were all somewhat influential in the south.
But these two rabble-rousers?
One was a desert nomad flailing in the sands, the other the unspeakable spawn of a traitor.
The idea that Damian knew them was laughable.
“Commander Nil! That woman we caught yesterday is causing a scene again. Complaining about the smell or something. We’re suppressing her ri—”
“Don’t talk nonsense! Release her immediately!”
“Y-Yes!? What do you—”
“If you don’t want to be booted from the guard, do it now! Ah, Sir Damian. Please wait here…. S-Sir Damian!”
────!! The commotion reached even here. Paruzan’s Tracking had sensed Damian.
She was a wild girl only just starting to socialize, so staying quiet in this situation would’ve been odd.
“Sir Damian?”
Agnes Schubert, waiting outside, tilted her head.
Shouting echoed from below, and Commander Nil stood there awkwardly.
But Damian’s expression remained calm. As he headed toward the source, Agnes followed.
“He’s here! I told you he’s here! Damian’s come, Damian!”
“Hey, nomad lady. Could you calm down a bit? Yelling from behind bars won’t change anything.”
“You stay out of it, half-baked little mage!”
“W-What?! Who’re you calling little?!”
Mana surged from Paruzan and Saliba.
But it scattered without form—the work of anti-magic devices in the cells.
“Quiet down. He’s here, no need to scream.”
Paruzan and Saliba were at each other’s throats again.
But at Damian’s appearance, they lit up and turned.
“Damian! Damian!”
“Eric—er, Brother Damian!”
The two reached through the bars side by side, waving frantically.
Thrown into prison right after arriving in the capital for the first time, Damian’s presence was a huge relief.
Clank. Orders from Nil had already come down. The guards swiftly unlocked the cells.
Paruzan and Saliba shot glares at them like siblings.
Plenty of scuffles must’ve happened while imprisoned. Now, though, the tables had turned.
The guards hurried away to avoid the fallout.
“Damian, Damian.”
Paruzan threw herself into Damian’s arms, pressing her face to his neck—just like before they’d parted in the south.
“Yeah, yeah. It’s still there.”
She meant the mark from when she’d bitten his neck.
No trace remained, of course, but Paruzan’s Tracking might’ve seen something else.
‘She’s the better option, at least.’
After enduring Erewyn, Paruzan’s clinginess felt tolerable by comparison. A big psychological difference.
“M-Me, me. I thought Sis Shay was joking when she first told me. First time seeing you for real!”
Saliba bore traitor’s blood—evident in his sky-blue hair.
To think he’d forged ties with the emperor’s son. Invited here, face-to-face. He couldn’t contain his excitement.
“Um… how do you two know each other?”
Agnes asked cautiously.
She understood why Paruzan and Saliba had come to the capital.
Acquaintances from Damian’s time in the south, invited by him.
The boy Saliba made sense aside from his sky-blue hair. Likely a local who’d helped during the Byzantine days.
Traitor’s heir. That blue hair symbolized discrimination. Agnes didn’t dwell on it.
Having spent time with Dennis at the tower, such hair colors didn’t strike her as unusual.
What puzzled her was Paruzan.
A desert nomad, slightly younger than Damian—around Agnes’s age.
What circumstances could’ve linked her to him?
As far as Agnes knew, Damian had only operated in the south’s major city, Byzantine.
“Ah… I’ll explain later.”
“Who’s that female, Damian?”
Paruzan tilted her head at Agnes.
‘Female…?’
Agnes’s lips twitched oddly. Even if true, it wasn’t something to say to a stranger.
She shunned noble arrogance, but that word was just crude.
Still, she let it slide. No hostility there.
“Agnes Schubert.”
“Paruzan.”
Agnes offered a handshake, but Paruzan dove straight into her embrace.
Sniff sniff. She pressed close, inhaling Agnes’s scent—her way of sizing up humans.
“Um, excuse me….”
“Agnes. You smell nice.”
With a bright smile like that, Agnes couldn’t protest. Desert nomad custom, perhaps.
“And strong.”
Agnes caught a glint in Paruzan’s eyes.
Not a knight’s aura, but unmistakably sharp. Veteran poise clashing with her youthful face—that’s why Damian had invited her.
“You too.”
“Heehee. Agnes, Agnes.”
Paruzan rubbed her face against Agnes’s chest. Agnes blushed but played along.
As Damian hoped, the two clicked. They shared certain similarities.
“No point talking more here. Let’s head out.”
“Yeah, Damian.”
“One moment.”
Agnes stepped in front of Paruzan.
Her expression had hardened. This, at least, she had to make clear.
“Use proper titles.”
“Why, Damian?”
“Exactly. Call him Sir Damian.”
“Damian is Damian. Why add all that?”
“This is the imperial capital. You must show respect to Sir Damian, a member of the imperial family. You too—no more ‘brother.’”
The sparks flew to Saliba as well. The quick-witted boy nodded fast.
“Damian calls me Paruzan. So I call him Damian. Agnes is Agnes too.”
“It’s fine for me. But Sir Damian is the empire’s noblest blood.”
Agnes disliked harping on nobility, but some lines couldn’t be crossed.
“…No.”
“Paruzan….”
Agnes’s head throbbed. Like having a rebellious little sister?
“Paruzan, listen to Agnes.”
Damian, who’d been watching, stepped in to mediate.
“It’s not just you and me here. People here are sensitive about titles—unlike your tribe.”
It was for Paruzan’s safety too.
If Rubia or the rampaging Erewyn saw this, it’d cause a storm.
“Fine. Okay, Sir… Damian.”
Paruzan pouted and bowed her head. She’d obey Damian, but grudgingly.
“You can drop it around close friends.”
“Yeah! Damian!”
Agnes could accept that. It was Damian’s call.
“Call me Damian when we’re casual too, Agnes.”
“Y-Yes! W-Wait, me? How could I possibly….”
Paruzan’s mischievous words flushed Agnes’s face.
Few her age dared call him Damian casually—only Rubia and his half-siblings.
“Want to?”
“N-No! Absolutely not!”
Her flustered denial came too strong.
Until now, she hadn’t considered it, but Paruzan’s example tempted her briefly.
Still, no. Agnes had firm boundaries there.
“Do as you like.”
Damian never cared much about titles. He accommodated others’ comfort.
Emperor’s bastard. In the palace, emphasis fell on “bastard”; elsewhere, on “emperor.”
Even commoners and most nobles found him intimidating.
“One second.”
Suddenly, Paruzan vanished behind the massive iron door. Crashing sounds followed, and she returned dragging a teary-eyed guard.
“Eavesdropping?”
Damian frowned. Nothing sensitive, but the act irked him.
“N-No! Just came down. Really!”
“No lie. I just sensed and grabbed him.”
“Then why are you down here?”
“We wondered how long you’d stay. It’s a prison….”
The guard eyed Damian warily. Hardly a place for long chats.