While the knights and cavalry led by Viscount Loti Solard, commander of the 4th Capital Guard Legion’s direct knight order, drove back the black magicians and black knights, Cain safely withdrew to the nearby base with his remaining escorts.
They rested briefly, awaiting reinforcements departing from the capital.
“Your Majesty. We truly came close to disaster this time.”
Cain, resting in a cozy tent away from the cold wind, chuckled at Viscount Heinrich Denver as he entered after knocking and let out a sigh of relief.
“But I didn’t die, did I?”
At the wastrel emperor’s reply, Denver nearly burst into hollow laughter from sheer incredulity but barely held it back.
“Yes, Your Majesty. But I might end up beheaded.”
“Who would dare target the head of the emperor’s imperial guard knights? I’ll have to issue an imperial decree.”
“At the very least, Count Steiner Randerk is probably itching to chop off my head right now.”
Denver answered Cain’s jest with a mischievous expression.
Mentioning that familiar name inevitably stiffened Cain’s face.
Hearing Randerk’s name reminded him of the “responsibility” he had momentarily forgotten.
A sovereign’s decisions and the accompanying accountability.
Because of Cain’s choices today, a significant number of the escort knights who had accompanied him to protect him had lost their lives.
He had tried to forcibly relax by exchanging jokes with Denver for a moment, but the faces of the escort knights who died joining his reckless endeavor refused to fade from his mind.
“Is Count Randerk coming personally?”
After briefly organizing his thoughts and steeling his resolve, Cain turned his gaze to Heinrich Denver.
“Yes. He said he would lead troops himself to safely escort Your Majesty back to Granada.”
The news that Count Randerk was rushing with an army was welcome, but Denver’s face was filled with worry.
His earlier joke about beheading was just that—a joke—but as the commander overseeing the emperor’s close protection, he couldn’t entirely avoid some reprimand.
“I hope he brings a reasonable force…”
Picking up a teacup filled with warm tea from the table, Cain groaned as he recalled Randerk’s personality.
After the Founding Festival catastrophe and the coronation attack, Count Steiner Randerk had become extremely sensitive to any situation threatening Cain’s life.
Hearing that Cain had been attacked and personally leading troops suggested another flare-up of what seemed like PTSD.
The reinforcements led by Count Randerk arrived several hours later—and as Cain had feared, he had truly brought an “army.”
“Your Majesty! I am truly relieved you are unharmed!”
Count Randerk glared fiercely at Denver, the escort commander, while fussing excessively over Cain.
Behind him stood an immense force with countless banners from various houses and units.
To Randerk’s left rear, Count Gerard Lupen—the commander of the 4th Capital Guard Legion—was just dismounting to pay respects to the emperor.
‘The 4th Capital Guard Legion and part of the imperial army? Looks like he brought close to three thousand.’
It appeared around three thousand troops had been mobilized from the 4th Legion and imperial army.
This scale represented elite selections from the forces Count Steiner Randerk could immediately mobilize with his authority.
‘I thought his personality would bring at least five thousand.’
Cain felt some relief that the response had been relatively restrained.
“It seems you mobilized part of the 4th Capital Guard Legion and the imperial army.”
At Cain’s question, Count Randerk slowly bowed his head and spoke calmly.
“Yes. First, I summoned all immediately available forces to swiftly and safely escort Your Majesty back to the palace.
However, considering that no signs were detected despite unexpected combat near the capital, I have prepared measures to mobilize an additional five thousand troops to respond to any possible future variables.”
Ah—so he had moved three thousand immediately mobilizable troops first and placed about five thousand more on standby in case further reinforcements were needed.
‘That sounds more like him.’
Of course Count Steiner Randerk—having endured the Founding Festival catastrophe and coronation attack—wouldn’t be satisfied with merely three thousand.
The concern was appreciated, but… separately, bringing three thousand troops after the situation had ended was an overreaction.
Though the Felberg Empire’s finances weren’t poor relative to its national prestige, it wasn’t overflowing with money to casually mobilize and move thousands of troops beyond necessity.
“Look here, Count Randerk. No matter how you slice it, this is too much—”
But then.
Cain was about to give Randerk a stern word but couldn’t finish.
A white flash suddenly banished the night darkness, striking not far away with a thunderous roar.
Boom!
“Protect His Majesty the Emperor!”
The first to react was Sword Saint Steiner Randerk, at the Meister realm.
He rushed forward with an aura-reinforced iron shield, positioning himself in front of Cain in full combat stance.
Next, Imperial Church paladin Aren Valerian drew his golden greatsword, followed by Grand Chevalier-class knights like Denver and Solard unsheathing their blades and igniting aura blades in unison.
Only after belatedly realizing that the authority of Brünjak, Baron of Swiftness, had not automatically activated did Cain slowly shift his gaze toward where the light had struck.
By then, the knights had already completed a defensive formation to protect the emperor.
From the spot where the pure white beam had landed, pristine white steam seeped out, obscuring vision like thick fog.
No cold or hot energy was felt.
The commonly spoken-of evil aura—demonic energy—was absent.
If it had been a demon, demonic creature, black magician, or similar heretic, it would surely carry demonic energy, and Cain could not have missed it.
He now bore the sacred mark of Onisia, the Evil-Slaying Paladin.
In simply detecting demonic energy, current Cain surpassed even Meister-class paladin Aren Valerian.
‘No demonic energy. That’s certain.’
Though vision was blocked by dense white fog, the distance wasn’t great.
At this range, with Onisia’s sacred mark imprinted, he couldn’t possibly miss demonic energy.
And most importantly.
‘Even Brünjak’s sacred mark didn’t trigger automatically.’
Given these circumstances, the faint silhouettes visible beyond the fog were highly unlikely to be enemies.
“Hold your preemptive attacks for now.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
To prevent unnecessary conflict, Cain first issued a specific order to the extremely tense Count Randerk not to attack.
As the knights obeyed the emperor’s command and maintained vigilance without striking first, four men and women strode out through the thick fog barrier obscuring vision.
At a glance, the quartet—who appeared with emphasized impure intent—wore outfits not much different from rough mercenaries.
But upon closer inspection, it was immediately clear they were no ordinary mercenaries.
When the silver-haired woman armed with a black leather coat, armor, and a mask reminiscent of a raven emerged, the knights tensed and raised their swords.
However, those who followed wore mercenary-like gear laden with equipment radiating divine power.
Thus, the emperor and his escorts could somewhat relax their heightened guard.
Even Cain, who had remained wary, realized the exceptionally strong aura from the apparent leader among the four was divine power and deduced his identity.
“The Beheading Priest, Podric Kendal?”
Though he phrased it as a guess, it was certainty.
The only owner of such overwhelmingly powerful divine power who wandered in that guise was Podric Kendal.
He had heard the man was coming here, after all.
Anyway.
At Cain’s question, the man wearing a gray cloak and coat, gripping a long halberd in his right hand, with a belt laden with various weapons and gear around his waist, slowly stepped forward.
An eyepatch over his left eye and a face covered in large and small scars silently testified that he had never lived a peaceful life.
“You recognized me at a glance. How?”
“This is before His Majesty the Emperor! Priest of Ellington, show proper courtesy at once!”
Imperial Church paladin Aren Valerian’s rough shout shook the heavens.
Daring to hold his head high and ask a question in the presence of His Majesty, akin to the heavens?
If not for the Ellington Holy Alliance insignia hanging from his clothes, Aren would have drawn his greatsword long ago.
But the Beheading Priest merely responded as if it were nothing.
“The laws of the Felberg Empire do not apply to priests of Ellington. For the warriors of the sacred domain, something far more important exists than the order and regulations imposed by a mere human nation.”
Beheading Priest Podric Kendal deliberately provoked the Imperial Church paladins—who deified the emperor—by uttering “mere human nation.”
His gravely mad eyes stared directly at Cain.
“That is the judgment of heretics.”
The doctrine of judging heretics itself was ordinary, but his attitude was the problem.
Staring straight at Cain while clearly pronouncing “heretic.”
Not only the Imperial Church paladins but even the imperial army knights bristled with anger, ready to charge forward.
If left alone, the situation would clearly worsen, so Cain silently stepped forward several paces.
Encountering the Beheading Priest much earlier than planned was disconcerting, but the man’s behavior wouldn’t change depending on when they met.
‘And… I was flustered and forgot, but now that I think about it, I understand why he’s acting that way.’
In this world’s setting, large-scale dimensional leaps for groups were nearly impossible, and even short-range dimensional magic for small numbers was considerably restricted or unstable.
Judging by how they had just fallen, they must have crossed a dimensional gate—meaning they likely hadn’t landed at an exact location.
They had probably targeted the detected demonic energy.
Then, upon landing and seeing the emperor there, anyone would suspect once, right?
In other words, from the Beheading Priest’s perspective, there was ample cause for misunderstanding.
‘How unfortunate that I just finished dealing with the ones carrying that demonic energy.’
But fortunately, Cain had one means to instantly end the heresy-obsessed Beheading Priest’s misunderstanding.
“Inquisitor of the Ellington Holy Alliance’s Sixth Diocese, look at this.”
Cain revealed the mark of evil extermination imprinted on the back of his left hand.
It was none other than the sacred mark of Onisia, the Evil-Slaying Paladin.
“Even seeing this, do you still dare call me a heretic?”