The Ambush
Ambush.
An ambush, of all things.
What a damn nuisance this was.
Ugh...
Rodeban let out an inward sigh even as he spread his senses wide, pinpointing the scattered positions of the escort knights. He had not the slightest intention of handling the attacker alone.
If I had a Magic Sword, maybe.
He could barely use any mana himself. He fully intended to fight dirty—ganging up on the guy. Preferably without fighting at all, if he could help it. At this rate his old wounds would flare up again.
Three escorts in the end room on the first floor. That'll do.
He walked on at an unhurried pace. All the while he pieced together the attacker's profile from the traces of presence.
Tall, skinny, mana's not bad. Intermediate or better?
The kind of talent who could have made a solid knight officer in the Imperial Army. Why would someone with a future that bright sink to being a mere assassin?
Doesn't seem like Information Bureau.
He looked clumsy at muffling footsteps and breathing.
Is there an insider in the mansion?
Mulling over possibilities, he headed for the far end of the corridor. He gripped the doorknob and counted down silently.
Three.
The attacker's breathing from behind. The soft rustle of cloth from moving limbs. Weighing every scrap of information at once—
Two...
An image of a dagger plunging into his back flashed through his mind.
...One!
Rodeban ducked his upper body in a flash. In that same instant—
Bang—!
With a thunderous crash the door in front of him was obliterated. A mana-charged blow. Had it landed, his torso might have been gone.
"…An attack? We haven't had one in years."
The startled voice came from inside the room. The moment he heard it, Rodeban threw himself toward another door on the right. The attacker's next strike was already flying.
"…! He dodged?"
The wooden door splintered with a ragged crack as Rodeban's body tumbled once. When he pushed himself up he found he was in a storeroom—well kept, hardly any dust.
Almost died...
At last he faced the attacker fully revealed. Whatever stealth magic or artifact the man had been using, its effect was spent. Rodeban's eyes went wide.
"What, he's actually a knight officer?"
Imperial Army red uniform, standard-issue longsword, a young man who looked about mid-twenties. The youth fixed Rodeban with a glare and charged again.
"I've come to avenge Hans."
The instant the young man took a step, his gaze flicked sideways—and a sharp metallic clang rang out. Three escorts burst from the wrecked room.
"I'll take him first. You two support from behind me."
"Yes."
"Yes."
The attacker traded fierce blows with the three escorts for a stretch. Then he was forced back, and they vanished from Rodeban's line of sight.
Clang, clang—
The corridor filled with the chaotic ring of steel on steel. Rodeban rose with a satisfied look, brushing himself off. The fight was unfolding exactly as he had planned. For the attacker to settle Hans's score now, he would first have to kill every escort knight in the mansion. And that was almost certainly impossible. The Theresevan family was a martial house—would their escorts be pushovers?
Still, who is Hans?
Rodeban left the storeroom turning the question over. The name was so common that nothing particular surfaced. Clearly the man had lost a cherished comrade in some battle they had shared. Human thinking was never purely rational; people carrying grudges like this showed up in front of him often enough.
Maybe I should start looking for escorts of my own.
Squelch—!
The wet sound of a blade cutting flesh. From that moment the noise died down. The fight seemed finished.
Ended faster than I expected.
Rodeban followed the scars of combat along the corridor. After passing three or four guest rooms he found the escorts sheathing their swords. He scratched the back of his head.
"I'm sorry. Looks like he came after me."
The escorts shook their heads and hurried to apologize instead.
"Not at all. Failing to notice him first is our great fault. When we report this to the young lady she will certainly discipline us. For the security of the Theresevan mansion to be this lax..."
Rodeban only shrugged.
They're not wrong.
An assassin in broad daylight? If Elise had not been his former superior, he never would have set foot in this mansion again. Nodding to himself, he suddenly noticed the young man collapsed on the floor.
"…"
Blood dripped steadily from the clean-cut stump of his right shoulder. The arm had been severed; a little way off lay the chunk of flesh amid a pool of blood. Rodeban asked the question to satisfy his curiosity.
"Who is Hans?"
The young man glared at him a moment, then spoke.
"…Four years ago he was the 3rd squad leader of the Heian Front. One of the expedition that followed you."
"Ah..."
Only then did Rodeban nod. The entire day came back unbidden. It had been an expedition ordered to retake a stalled front line. The young man looked at him with raw resentment.
"In that expedition… only you came back alive. My comrades must have died miserably there..."
The escorts cut in one after another.
"As I recall, that expedition was launched by an unreasonable decision from above."
"Simply that only Sir Rodeban returned alive can hardly be called a crime."
"Ignore him."
Rodeban glanced between the escorts and the young man. Having them take his side so readily was oddly reassuring. In any case the youth was already a dead man. He had infiltrated a noble mansion to attempt assassination.
Something feels off.
Rodeban spoke as the thought occurred to him.
"If it's Hans, do you mean the black-haired, somewhat skinny, sociable fellow?"
"…!"
The young man's eyes shook hard. Rodeban nodded and went on.
"Then your name is Jute? Ah, that seems right. Truth is, when we were cut off at Heian the mood wasn't as bleak as you'd think. Everyone even left wills with me half as a joke."
He adjusted the eyepatch that had slipped a little.
"But the wills themselves were mostly serious. Hans left one for you as well. Want to hear it?"
The young man's face turned desperate. A dry voice scraped from his half-open mouth.
"…Yes."
Rodeban looked at that raw expression for a moment. In truth the will was nothing dramatic; there was no real need to draw it out. Yet somehow it felt right to pause.
"Nothing much… He said to take care of his little sister. That he was sorry for opposing her marriage all that time."
"…!"
The young man's eyes trembled violently. Then his head dropped. Tears were visible, trailing under his chin. Rodeban turned to the escorts.
"You've worked hard. Handle him according to the Theresevan family's regulations."
There was nothing more for him to do here. The only thing that still piqued his curiosity was who had put the youth up to this. That would come out under interrogation. He was never much good at interrogations himself; better leave it to others.
One escort bowed.
"Yes, Sir Rodeban. Once again, we are truly sorry."
"No. I'm the freeloader here, so what of it."
Rodeban cast one more look around the wrecked hallway. Why did scenery like this feel more familiar than anything else?
This is a disease too. A disease.
He sighed and left the room.
Once the situation was settled, the mansion went half into emergency lockdown regardless of anything else. Every measure related to security was tightened—surveillance magic, entry procedures, vaults, the frequency of escort patrols. Around-the-clock protection was now assigned to him.
Rodeban found it burdensome, of course. Attacks of this level had long been everyday life for him.
I got hit often enough even back in the barracks, so...
But the mansion people clearly were not used to it. Even the guest room he occupied was moved farther inward for safety.
Hmm. But why no word from her?
Three days had passed since the attack—ten days since Elise left. She still had not returned. By now a letter at least should have arrived, yet there was total silence.
Detained somewhere, maybe?
It did not matter much. Rodeban needed roughly a month of rest anyway. He could wait that long. Seated at the table, he picked up a newspaper.
The Empire Journal.
The most famous magazine in the Empire. In the game it had often been used to showcase the player's achievements.
Flutter—
Early pages carried victory reports from minor fronts and propaganda that the numbers of magic beasts had fallen sharply. He was reading without much thought when his eyebrows suddenly twitched.
"…"
His own name sat boldly at the top of the page.
He choked mid-breath.
"Cough! Cough!"
"Oh my, are you all right?"
The content was absurd. In short, it was an article that combined the fact of his retirement with the information that he was staying at Elise's mansion—while neatly omitting that the Information Bureau was hunting him.
Unbelievable.
Reading further, he found it also claimed Elise was currently in the process of breaking off her engagement with her fiancé. To anyone who knew nothing of the real situation, the piece looked entirely plausible.
...How much of this is actually true?
Even Rodeban himself was left in a state of confusion.
Is this the reason she can't come back sooner?
Feeling his head would start spinning if he continued, he set the paper down.
"Huu..."
After a few deep breaths, someone knocked on the guest-room door.
Knock knock—
Liana's voice followed. The content, however, was strange.
"Sir Rodeban. The Third Princess of the Crucias Ducal House has come to visit."
Rodeban's brows furrowed of their own accord.
"The Third Princess?"
The words he had exchanged with the Grand Duke in Tiliard suddenly returned.
"Hmph. Understood. I'll send someone soon. You return as usual."
This man... sent his youngest daughter?
He could have just dispatched any ordinary knight. Why would a northern princess personally travel all the way to the capital? As far as Rodeban knew, the Third Princess still had no fiancé—even after completing her coming-of-age ceremony. In this world, what that meant required no explanation.
Ah, just thinking about it is exhausting.
Still seated, Rodeban shook his head side to side. Liana tilted her head at the sight.
"Sir Rodeban?"
"Ah, sorry. I'll be right there."
With a weary face he stepped out of the guest room.
...Going to the sea was out of the question for now.