The Patriarch's Decree

"Balder Zieghart."

"Kh..."

At Glenn's summons, Balder rose with his lips clamped shut. Irritation sat plain on his face, but there was no surprise in it.

Raon watched him let out a ragged breath and nodded. He knew after all. If Raon himself had read Balder's presence, there was no chance Glenn had missed it.

"Answer me. Balder Zieghart."

"Yes..."

"The sword duel is a tradition House Zieghart has upheld for a thousand years. It is our honor. And you dare soil it with your paltry tricks? Do you take me for a fool?"

Glenn's voice had dropped, but his presence erupted like a blast. The entire training ground shuddered as if an earthquake had torn through it, and the air itself pressed down on every shoulder like a millstone.

"Ghhk..."

Unable to withstand that overwhelming power, Balder's knees buckled. He barely managed to hold himself upright, but he could not hide the tremor running through his shoulders.

"I—I'm sorry."

Balder bowed his head to Glenn, his lips clenched white.

"But as a father with a son in the ring, I was only cheering him on. I never said anything that would interfere with the outcome..."

"Balder Zieghart."

Glenn's eyes blazed like erupting magma.

A terrifying killing intent burst forth in an instant.

"Hah..."

Raon sank back. Even though the bloodlust was not directed at him, goosebumps raced across his skin and the strength drained from his entire body.

"You told Rayden to answer with raw power. To kill his variations and his killing edge, and to smash through with force. Did you think I would miss an aura message that sloppy?"

"Ugh..."

Balder's body bent lower and lower. He was not bowing of his own will. Glenn's formless presence was forcing him down.

Raon swallowed dryly. The presence Glenn was pouring out was enough to make him shudder — but something else was even more astonishing.

He read the aura message?

An aura message was a technique that used the aura in one's core or heart to transmit words directly to another person. Secrecy was the one thing it guaranteed. And yet, from what Glenn had just said, he had read the contents outright.

That's insane.

He hadn't inferred it from the situation the way Raon had. He had read the message itself. It was no different from saying this entire space sat in the palm of Glenn's hand.

"Hah..."

It was so absurd that a hollow laugh slipped out of him even in a situation this grave.

"You figured that even if you were caught, you could smooth it over once the duel was over. You're my son, the master of Jinmu Hall, commander of the Linked Sword Squad — you assumed I'd let it slide."

"Ugh..."

The longer Glenn spoke, the worse Balder's trembling grew. His hands shook like a man with palsy.

"But this time, you crossed the line. You soiled the duel, and you lied to my face."

"I—I'm sorry! F-Father, I..."

"As the head of House Zieghart, I decree."

Glenn looked down at Balder, who had curled in on himself like a grub, and lifted his chin.

A heavy boom rolled through the training ground as every Zieghart swordsman dropped to their knees at once, and the whole floor heaved.

"We receive your command!"

Every swordsman echoed the same words and bowed their heads. It was a sight so solemn it made the flesh tremble.

"F-Father! A year? That's too much! And it isn't only me — Jinmu Hall and the Linked Sword Squad are being punished as well. That's excessive!"

"Excessive?"

Crimson lightning flared in Glenn's eyes.

"You stained my face, and you spat on the history of this house. One year of confinement is a punishment light as a feather compared to what you have done."

"I am the master of Jinmu Hall. The duties and work I oversee are not one or two! If I am not there..."

"How amusing. Do you think you are irreplaceable? The work you have been doing can be handed to any other hall or squad without a problem."

"F-Father?"

The color drained from Balder's face as if he had suffered a catastrophic hemorrhage.

"Then shall I smash your aura core instead of confinement, the way your son wagered his in the duel?"

"Th-that's..."

"I'll give you a choice. One year of confinement, or your aura core."

Glenn unfurled a presence so cold it made plain he had not the slightest intention of showing mercy.

"...I'll take the confinement."

Balder answered with his body still folded as if in a kowtow. Crushed beneath Glenn's presence, he looked barely able to breathe.

Raon let out a rough breath. Just watching from the side was enough to drain him dry.

He really is something else.

In most houses, when a member of the direct line committed a crime, no one asked after the sin. It slid by the way a snake slips over a wall. Even House Robert, one of the Six Kings, was no exception. House Zieghart was different.

The head of House Zieghart had called his own fourth son — an executive of the clan — to account. And for a considerable crime, at that. Glenn Zieghart was a colder man than Raon had expected.

"One thing more."

Glenn turned, and his gaze left Balder to sweep the entire training ground.

"Yes!"

The retainers bowed their heads once more, and the answer rang out loud enough to shake the training ground.

"There has been an unfortunate incident, but the duel ends here. All of you, return."

With that, Glenn left the training ground first.

"Hhk..."

Tears finally slipped from Helen's eyes. She had held them back until the very end.

"Waaah!"

Helen clutched Sylvia's hand beside her and began to sob. As the one at the center of today's affair, she must have been carrying ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠every kind of burden — and now that all of it had been lifted, the feelings she had been holding in burst free.

"It's all right."

Sylvia patted Helen's back, tears welling at the corners of her own eyes as well.

"Ohh..."

"Hhk!"

"My lady! Head maid!"

The other maids began to weep along with Helen and Sylvia. The clan head himself had publicly sworn that no one was to touch the Annex. The worry vanished, and the tension broke.

Raon let out a long breath. Now that he could protect these people, the unease that had been sitting in a corner of his heart finally eased.

"I told you, didn't I? It would be all right."

He smiled without showing so much as a hint of the tension he had been carrying, taking in the people laughing and crying before him.

"Let's go home."

The spectators had gone, and the training ground lay quiet.

Six people still remained before the western passage. The flaming sword emblem of House Zieghart was engraved over the left side of each of their chests, and beneath it, a second emblem of their own had been drawn. It meant they were squad commanders who had staked their own will upon the crest of Zieghart.

"It's been a while since I saw something that impressive."

"When I heard he'd cut down the Green Lightning Fiend and survived the Blood-Crazed Fiend, I thought Rimer was pulling some kind of prank. Turns out the rumors were true."

"True doesn't even cover it. He brought out the true essence of a low-grade sword art. That's already past the point where you can measure him with the word 'talent.'"

"If he came to our squad, he'd be combat-ready from day one."

"......"

The squad commanders had all felt the same thing watching Raon, and they nodded as one.

"The swordsmanship is one thing, but he mixed something into the middle of the Garam Footwork. I can't say exactly what — but his level of martial study is not Expert-rank."

"Genius like that... he'd be the best fit for our Black Tiger Squad, obviously..."

"Bullshit."

"...?"

The two women standing at either end cut off the man in the center before he could finish.

"Ahem. Anyway, it's clear he's grown far beyond what we were hoping for back then."

The commander in the middle gave an awkward cough and scratched the back of his head, embarrassed at being interrupted.

"Right. I thought he was a frail genius, but he turned out to be a sturdy monster. If he keeps growing like that, a clash with the other members of the direct line is inevitable. This is going to be fun."

The commander with the deep, thick voice licked his lips.

"Graduation's coming up soon anyway, so we can just raise him in the Black Tiger Squad. I like his personality too. I genuinely believe I can—"

"You shut up."

"......"

"Black Tiger. You want to die?"

"Ugh."

Three of the four glared at him, and the commander in the center flinched, hunching his shoulders.

"He isn't entirely wrong. The Fifth Training Ground trainees don't have much time left until graduation. Once they finish the graduation exam, they become swordsmen immediately and choose their squads and units."

The deep-voiced commander gripped the railing and let out a short laugh.

"Raon isn't the only one at the Fifth Training Ground. Burren, Runaan, and Marta — all three of them have the martial power and talent to take the top spot anywhere you put them. The next Selection Ceremony is going to be worth watching."

"......"

None of the squad commanders spoke, but they had all made the same resolution. At the next Selection Ceremony, they would take at least one of those four, no matter what.

"Still, I want Raon!"

"Who's up for taking down Black Tiger today?"

"Me."

"I'll join in."

"...!"

Raon returned to the Annex with Sylvia, Helen, and the maids.

"Ahh..."

Helen let out a long sigh as she took in the full view of the Annex.

"What's wrong?"

Sylvia caught Helen's shoulder and tilted her head.

"I thought we might not all make it back here together."

Helen lowered her eyes. She had imagined countless versions of what today might bring. If Raon had lost, she had been prepared to beg for forgiveness even at the cost of her own life. Instead they had received an apology, and all of them had come back to the Annex together. It still felt like a dream.

"I felt the same."

"Me too..."

"So did I."

The maids nodded one by one. They all seemed to have thought the same thing; they met one another's eyes and smiled faintly.

"You can rest easy now. Father is a man who keeps every word he speaks. There's no one left who would dare lay a hand on us."

Sylvia turned and met each of the maids' eyes in turn. Last of all she looked at Raon and broke into ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a bright smile.

"Come on. Today we're throwing a party even if we have to use up every last ingredient we have!"

"Yes!"

"Let's make a mountain of that stew the young master loves!"

"Of course!"

Sylvia, Helen, and the maids headed into the Annex with steps so light they almost seemed to float.

Raon watched them go and let out a small breath. Seeing them laugh and chatter, the last of the unease in his heart finally lifted. These people, it seemed, had come to mean more to him than he had realized.

He was about to follow them inside when one of the maids slowed her pace until she fell into step with him. It was Judiel.

"Young master."

She turned to face him.

"Did you plan for it to go this far from the very beginning?"

"To some extent."

Raon nodded. From the moment he had thrown his sword at Rayden, he had known that a duel was the only way out of this situation, and he had deliberately provoked the other boy's pride. He had won the duel as expected, and he had received an apology. What he had not expected was that Jinmu Hall, the Mighty Force Squad, and Balder himself would all be placed under confinement.

"You really are a frightening person."

Judiel let out a sigh, her face gone pale.

"But you're also kinder than that — far kinder."

"Me, kind?"

Raon's eyes flew wide. Hearing that for the first time in his life was more startling than Rayden's attack had been.

"Thank you for saving me back then."

Judiel smiled faintly, the tips of her ears flushed pink. Raon had seen her smile many times, but every one of those smiles had been false. This was different. There was a shyness in it that seemed to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hold her true feelings.

"Shall we go?"

Watching Judiel's back as she turned and walked toward the Annex, Raon flexed his fingers.

I think I can tell her the truth now.

"Hhhk!"

Balder Zieghart spat out a ragged breath. The once-immaculate, once-splendid Jinmu Hall had been smashed to pieces, and even the walls were cracked into fragments. Jinmu Hall's swordsmen lay unconscious, scattered across the floor.

It had not been an enemy attack. Balder, returning from the training ground, had been unable to contain his rage and had torn Jinmu Hall apart with his own hands — and he had beaten down the swordsmen who tried to stop him as well.

"Ugh..."

"W-what do we do now?"

The ones still standing were at a complete loss when a cheerful rush of wind blew in through the collapsed wall.

"Hello there~"

A long, slender finger waggled through the hole the wind had come through, and Rimer's face popped out after it.

"Rimer..."

Balder glared at him with bloodshot eyes.

"Wow, it looks so nice and open like this. You should leave the windows open more often, you know."

Rimer grinned as he stepped over the wreckage of the wall and came inside.

"Why the hell are you here? You looking to die?"

"The clan head's confinement order is basically a suspended sentence, and you want to cause another incident?"

"Urgh..."

Balder, who had been a heartbeat away from lunging, bit down on his lip. Rimer was right. If he caused trouble now, a punishment he could not bear would come down on him. He could not afford to be summoned before Glenn again.

"Get lost! I've got nothing to say to you."

"You might not have anything to say to me, but I still need to be here."

Rimer pulled a slip of paper from his coat pocket and gave it a little wave.

"Th-that's..."

Balder's eyes flew wide at the sight of the fluttering paper.

"You know what this is, right? The confirmation of the bet between you, master of Jinmu Hall, and insignificant little me."

Rimer grinned. The way he talked, the way he sounded, the way he moved — no matter when you looked at him, the man was insufferable. Balder could not understand how a creature like that could possibly be an elf.

"Once you're in confinement you'll be hard to reach, so hand it over now."

"Ghh — I-I don't have it."

Balder shook his head hard.

I can't give him that. Not in this situation.

The things he had wagered with Rimer were not one or two. With their activities already frozen, handing those items over would deal a serious blow to Jinmu Hall's growth.

"Tsk tsk. A man of your standing, acting like this?"

Rimer clicked his tongue and crooked a finger.

"There's not a soul who doesn't know a huge shipment of elixirs came into Jinmu Hall... Ah, was the shock so great you've already gone senile?"

"You. Do you actually want to die?!"

Balder bared his teeth like a beast and snarled.

"Whoa! Let's not do this!"

Rimer put on an exaggerated expression and backed away. Balder wanted to rip those twitching earlobes right off his head.

"Get out! I've got nothing to give you!"

"Are you sure that's wise?"

Rimer, still retreating, dusted off his hands with a smirk.

"You already stained the clan head's honor at the duel. If you go and break a promise on top of that, what do you think he'll do?"

He raised his fingers one by one.

"The confinement and activity freeze could stretch to two years. He might even confiscate everything you own, don't you think?"

"That's..."

Balder bit down on his lip. With the way his father was right now, it was entirely possible. He wanted ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to smash this insufferable bastard to pieces, but the fact that he had no way to do it made him want to die of frustration.

"Hand it over, would you? I've got plenty of other people to collect from besides you."

Rimer spread both hands and grinned like a child asking for his allowance.

"GODDAMMIT!"

Balder's scream rang through Jinmu Hall once more.