Chapter 6: The Duke’s Command

The study of the Intezeruto House’s head—the duke Argantius, an Elector—had a large southwest-facing window.

The room, where the sunset looked splendid, was filled with his collections.

There was the skeleton of a malformed child with seven fingers and two heads, a crystal skull, the cranium of a large carnivorous reptile, stuffed predators, a mounted little humanoid with translucent wings, and a preserved mermaid.

All of them were dead and would no longer change.

Time itself seemed frozen, trapped in display cases, waiting only for his gaze.

When I was young I was afraid to enter this room even though I had memories of a previous life, but now that silence felt welcome.

We sat across from each other at a desk made of expensive blackwood.

Househead Argantius looked exactly as I remembered.

He wore his black hair long, and his light gray eyes contained what I had not yet attained.

“I heard you learned the sword from Lord Dande, and that Lord Liam acknowledged your skill.”

His tone sounded as if he were saying he’d expected this outcome from the beginning.

I chose my words calmly.

“It is an honor that even Your Grace has heard of my inflated reputation.”

I never could read this man’s true feelings.

“You still have a way with rhetoric.”

I couldn’t tell whether the expression he showed now was a shallow calculation to exploit an unexpectedly talented child, a joy that finally gave him reason to cherish a cast-off son, or both.

Even with the self of a previous life, my heart could not help but waver.

“Please continue to call me ‘Father,’” I said.

My voice trembled slightly, but I’d contained the emotion well enough.

“I have a favor to ask. Many swear loyalty, but there is no one I trust except my blood—except you.”

“Name whatever you wish.”

He glanced toward the other door as he spoke.

“Come in.”

The door opened and a beautiful girl entered.

Once strong and free, she now gave the impression of a raptor whose feathers had been clipped and trapped in a cage.

Though she was at an age that should have been full of vigor, she walked with shoulders bowed and fragile.

She was the new heir of the Intezeruto House and my younger sister, Ribelia Intezeron Intezeruto.

I inhaled sharply without realizing whose presence I’d forgotten to be surprised by.

The bright girl who used to smile when praised for her cleverness was gone.

“We are heading to the western border for territorial negotiations with the Imperial family.”

“Yes.”

“Your sister will conduct the talks. She’s broadening her experience as an heir.”

“Yes.”

“I’ll give you a chance to earn merit. Watch over your sister on the way. Can you do that?”

I inclined my head like a loyal knight.

He produced a long wooden box from beneath the desk.

“Open it.”

Inside the box lay a fine sword whose blade shimmered with waves of black and silvery-gray, and a scabbard wrapped in glossy cowhide.

I liked it very much.

“This is your sword from now on. If Lord Liam acknowledged you, you can be worth a knight.”

I received the sword with care.

“May I ask one thing?”

“Yes. I grant permission.”

“What should I protect her from?”

The househead alternated his gaze between the malformed skeleton and me as he answered.

“Everything.”

***

To be given a mission meant being given a chance to earn merit, and it was something to be congratulated for.

“I knew you would receive a sword, Young Master—no, Lord Anplus now, I should call you?”

Dande and Liam grinned and patted my shoulder.

“Lord Anplus—sounds fine. Thank you, Lord Dande.”

I forced a composed greeting.

Still awkward, as expected.

Liam shrugged, and Dande bit his lip.

“A—calling the Young Master ‘Lord’…!”

“When did you grow up so handsome?”

The two who had been admiring me burst into laughter.

“Stop laughing!”

What were these aging knights doing in front of everyone?

“Go and return safely.”

“When you come back I’ll buy you a drink.”

“Thanks.”

I headed for the carriage.

Then Lord Dande called me back.

“One more thing.”

“What is it?”

“When you meet an Imperial knight, check the left side of their chest first.”

His voice was unusually grave.

“If a knight wears a flower emblem, be careful.”

“Does that mean something?”

“The flower marks an officer-mage.”

In this world, an officer meant more than just a commander.

Only pure blue-bloods could become officers, and of course they were powerful mages.

“A knight who bears a flower and has survived cutting down that officer-mage’s neck is a knight of exceptional strength.”

“I’ll remember.”

I had one vivid childhood memory of an officer-mage suppressing a rebellion.

The scene still burned in my eyes.

With a single gesture, blue flames rose and thousands of angry townspeople turned to ashes.

I wondered how strong a knight would have to be to kill such a mage and survive.

One thing was certain: our numbers would never be enough to handle that.

For the heir of an Elector to lead this expedition, the escort was pitifully small.

There were only two officer-mages, and they were not the top-ranked sky-blue or the next sea-blue—only two of the lowest turquoise.

Only two.

There were at most a hundred soldiers.

I didn’t know why it was so meager.

When I was heir, even a spring outing brought five sky-blue officer-mages.

“Lord Anplus. This way, please.”

A soldier called me.

A few supply wagons followed behind the ornate carriage.

The soldiers loaded food, water casks, and large crossbows.

A few soldiers strained as they unloaded stacks of long rectangular shields.

“Why are they unloading the shields? They looked fine for an escort.”

The soldier guiding me answered flustered.

“Well… the mage asked us to load more wine.”

Wine?

A vein throbbed on my forehead.

An escort of only a hundred men felt worrying even with good gear, and now they were loading wine—this was unacceptable.

“Put the shields back on quickly. Don’t load those casks. Leave them.”

“Yes?”

“But—”

“I will take responsibility. Put the shields back on.”

“Really? I’m curious how you plan to take responsibility.”

A haughty voice came from behind.

The soldiers froze and fumbled, unable to act.

He was a turquoise officer-mage wearing a curly wig, a thin cuirass, and an ostentatious uniform; his hooked nose was unnaturally reddish.

Surely he hadn’t been drinking this early in the day.

“Our soldiers are all elite a hundred-to-one troops.”

Wouldn’t the Imperial side bring an equal number of elite hundred-to-one troops?

I didn’t know what to say and kept my mouth shut.

“You didn’t even suggest not taking shields at all. I only said those shields don’t look good—bring something more artistic. Now, look. Those shields.”

I looked around for the shields and at last found a few bucklers the size of plates tucked into a corner of a wagon.

With those I wouldn’t have been able to stop an arrow or a stone.

“We have a long road. It’ll be a journey of over a month. You have to enjoy a little comfort along the way or you’ll get worn out. Isn’t that right?”

“No. That is not acceptable.”

How could he be so brazen?

Was he serious right now?

As an officer-mage, he seemed confident in his own ability.

But I was not someone who could only look after my own body.

“I understand you’re nervous for your first mission. But don’t be so sharp. When you’re tense you become myopic and prone to mistakes.”

He never raised his voice.

A broken noble-born knight was blocking the way of a mage, yet he remained calm.

He truly believed those shields would be no problem.

How could I convince him otherwise?

I sighed inwardly and spoke slowly.

“Do not misunderstand.”

I lifted my head and met his eyes.

“I do not mean ‘don’t bring the casks.’”

“Huh?”

“As you said, a bit of pleasure on a long journey is acceptable. But do not unload the shields.”

“Isn’t that what I just said?”

“Did you say those little shields would be sufficient? Let’s find out. Bring those shields!”

I shouted.

The mage—wait, he had said the same thing, but I gestured and urged on.

“I’ll rush the carriage. Try to stop me with those shields.”

Ten soldiers huddled with plate-sized bucklers and formed a pitiful little phalanx.

So that’s why they praised him—he taught Dande well, but I didn’t expect him to be so fussed. 

Is this really necessary? the mage scolded.

I ignored his grumbling and charged.

They had reason to be called elites.

Even with those small shields they formed a proper line and managed to stop me.

But once my shoulders and feet pushed between them, they could not hold the charge.

Two soldiers tumbled, and I grabbed the carriage rail.

Bang!

A powerful recoil hit, and two more soldiers fell.

I couldn’t stop my momentum and grabbed the carriage handle.

This isn’t right.

If my shoulders and feet couldn’t project forward past the shield wall, the force of the charge wouldn’t be properly transmitted.

“See? Didn’t it stop much better?”

“Stopped? From where I was standing it looked like the same number of people went down.”

“They eased off so I wouldn’t be injured at the end. Even so, it was far harder than before. Had they pushed with full strength, I would have been thrown down.”

The soldiers murmured.

“Did you think you could really stop that? Who eased off?”

“No? No matter how much they pushed, they were still driven back.”

“You said you learned from Lord Dande; he’s really strong. Truly blue-blooded.”

The mage glanced between the tiny bucklers and the rectangular shields.

A faint surprise crossed his eyes.

Then, with a sigh as if the ground had dropped away, he said, “Get rid of all those small shields. Unload the wine. Both the small shields and the big shields were penetrated; we can’t trust them, so no drinking for a while.”

“An excellent decision.”

I bowed with satisfaction.

“Not at all. It’s pleasing to see someone dutiful for their role.”

“Lord. Are you ready? I ask your favor.”

Once I boarded the carriage, my sister Ribelia offered a monotone greeting.

She looked like a porcelain automaton driven by gears.

“Sorry, milady. We had a small scuffle so departure was delayed.”

“I saw you raise your voice on my behalf. There is no need to apologize.”

“I will do my utmost to protect you. As long as I’m here, no one will lay a finger on you.”

Her two attendants looked at me with a complicated, ambiguous expression.

I tried not to pay attention and stared out the window.

The grand stone buildings of the 300,000-person metropolis of Intezeron passed by in a blur.

The paved road ended the moment we left the city walls.

My sister turned her head slightly and gazed at the high mountains and the endlessly spreading wheat fields.

“Don’t be foolish—just sleep.”

Without warning, one attendant drew the curtain.

Are you kidding me?

For a moment I wondered whether the attendant had gone mad or I was hallucinating.

To act so toward an heir would be lèse-majesté, and lèse-majesté meant execution by burning.

“Wait!”

I was about to bellow, but my sister closed her eyes as if it were the most natural thing and leaned back against the seat.

The attendant shot me a look without a word.

It was an extraordinarily strange scene.

***

The Electors’ territories, which had spread outward and conquered the world, were vast.

Days of travel still revealed only endless wheat fields, flat forests, and towns that all looked much the same.

I’d heard that there were few mountains because earth-mages had shaved them down to make farmland; the very idea sounded impressive.

Then the procession abruptly halted.

The carriage shook violently, and the horses made a clop-clop sound.

My sister flinched and woke, and I sprang out of the carriage like a spring.

“What scoundrels are these!”

My hand went to my sword as if to strike at any moment.

A soldier hurried up from the front and reported the situation.

“Lord, what is happening?”

When Ribelia asked, I set my face and reported.

“Milady, serfs have blocked the road. They say they want to see you.”

Even as I spoke, I was incredulous.

Peasants blocking a noble’s path—this world’s hierarchy was far stricter than medieval Earth.

If someone dared block a noble, they could lose their head without complaint.

“You wretches! Do you know whose path you block? Do you want to die?”

“Yes. Just kill us. Let us see her once. Whether we die by blade or by starvation, isn’t it the same?”

“Traitor!”

The knight shouted, but the kneeling backs did not move.

Ribelia’s lips trembled with a deathly pallor as she slowly stepped from the carriage.