Tap tap.
“…”
Tap tap tap.
The two ribbons attached to the holy sword overtly displayed their dissatisfaction by tapping the floor repeatedly.
It looked similar to a disgruntled cat tapping the floor.
“I clearly played a major role today, didn’t I? But here you two are, just praising and congratulating each other. Isn’t that strange?”
It really did seem quite displeased. Eddie, who never expected to be protested against by a sword, was at a loss for words and could only open and close his mouth when the ribbon that had been tapping the floor transformed into a hand shape and poked him.
“You, Eddie.”
“Uh, ah, yes?”
“How could you not even say thank you when I saved you?”
The complaint was quite reasonable. If not for the holy sword, Eddie wouldn’t have known what might have happened to him there.
“Uh, right. I’m sorry. I should have said it right away, but I was flustered… Thank you.”
Though Eddie felt like he was being forced to grovel, the holy sword seemed satisfied with his sincere gratitude.
Wait a minute.
Wasn’t the holy sword’s ‘voice’ only supposed to be audible to its owner? Why can he suddenly hear it too?
Before Eddie could express this doubt, Ketron spoke irritably,
“What are you doing, Albatross?”
Eddie could state with certainty that he had never seen Ketron speak to someone with such irritation.
“What am I doing? I’m just asking for something legitimate.”
“Legitimate?”
“Of course.”
“Why did you unnecessarily take human form? I wouldn’t have asked for that.”
“What? Do you realize you’re getting angry about something strange right now?”
The two began arguing like peers. Though it was an argument, it felt more like close friends bickering rather than a serious fight, so Eddie felt his body, which had tensed with nervousness, gradually relax.
Listening to the two of them (?) quarreling, Eddie finally realized that he had returned to the peaceful Eddie’s Inn.
Ah, I’m back.
He didn’t know when he had started to think of this place as a home to return to, but in any case, it finally sank in that the short journey was over.
Though there had been too many incidents, and these three days had been a whirlwind…
In any case, he was back.
Feeling the strength drain from his entire body, Eddie slumped onto the bed. The sounds of arguing continued beside him, but his exhausted body refused to stay alert any longer.
Ketron discovered Eddie asleep on his bed only after a quite lengthy verbal battle with Albatross.
* * *
A chilling coldness filled the room in the Imperial Palace where Arthur was staying. Normally, Arthur wasn’t one to frown at high nobles, but his patience at the moment was stretched extremely thin.
Naturally, unpleasant words escaped his lips.
“What does that have to do with me?”
Count Almeida momentarily felt so dumbfounded that he merely exhaled through his nose.
He hadn’t expected it to be entirely easy when he came, but the attitude of Count Fontaine, no, the Hero, was far more uncooperative than expected.
Even though they shared the same rank of count, Arthur was a newly appointed noble without any tradition.
Compared to Count Almeida, who had held his title for several generations already, though not quite a founding contributor, it was almost embarrassing to consider them equals.
This ignorant fellow who was merely good with a sword, how dare he!
But instead of expressing his anger outwardly, Count Almeida barely managed to pull up his twitching lips.
“…Perhaps you need time to think?”
He had just made a proposal to Arthur. Though he had circled around business talk, it was essentially asking Arthur to lend a hand to the aristocratic faction.
Recently, due to the appearance of unknown assailants, the businesses of nobles in the aristocratic faction had collapsed, and some had lost their lives.
It was so blatant that anyone who wasn’t a fool could tell this was a purge carried out by the Emperor or pro-Emperor nobles.
The aristocratic faction nobles had criticized the Emperor for not being devout when demons proliferated, and they had grown fat within the Empire while the young Emperor, who had inherited the throne at a young age, waged a long war against demons.
However, after one of their political foundations, the Demon King, fell, and after this damned hero appeared, the political situation was rapidly changing.
The Emperor no longer needed to worry about external enemies, the Emperor’s personal soldiers scattered throughout the regions were gathering in the capital, and for unknown reasons, the number of aristocratic faction nobles was steadily decreasing.
They sensed a crisis. Now was the time to recruit as many nobles as possible to the aristocratic faction.
If only those damned dukes hadn’t insisted on their futile neutrality.
Count Almeida frowned. The dukes, pretending to be noble, had declared neutrality, neither taking the Emperor’s side nor joining the aristocratic faction, perhaps believing their foundations could never crumble.
But not taking sides meant they could potentially be recruited by either side, while also being hated by both.
Count Almeida felt his antipathy toward the dukes growing.
They think they’ll be safe no matter what happens.
After the death of Marquis Meggin, Count Almeida, who had been elevated to become the right-hand man of Marquis Rodrigo, a core noble of the aristocratic faction, wanted to perfectly accomplish his first mission since becoming his confidant.
But he never expected the hero, the target of that mission, to be so uncooperative.
“I’ll come back another time.”
Arthur didn’t even properly respond to those words. His haggard face filled with irritation suggested it would be difficult to elicit a positive response unless the Emperor himself came.
Was his illness perhaps not a fake excuse after all? Count Almeida wondered, but he decided it didn’t matter. It wasn’t as if they were close enough for him to genuinely care about Arthur’s health.
He had no choice but to retreat humiliatingly. The hero was an important symbolic figure, and if Count Almeida had been foolish enough to ruin things because of his bad mood, he wouldn’t have reached a high position in the aristocratic faction in the first place.
However, he couldn’t hide his distorted expression due to his wounded pride.
Count Almeida, who left Arthur’s room in the Imperial Palace, spoke irritably to his head butler who followed him.
“Is Count Fontaine always so rude?”
“I’ve heard he has an authoritative side, but not like that… The general opinion is that he’s become a bit irritable since the tournament.”
“Ha! Why? Afraid his fake illness would be exposed?”
Count Almeida mocked him thoroughly.
Everyone who needed to know was aware that Arthur had essentially faked his illness that day. They just didn’t know the exact reason. The current consensus was that he needed a plausible excuse to refuse the Emperor’s troublesome orders.
Even if he was a pathetic person who faked illness, he was still a hero. One who defeated the Demon King single-handedly.
However, Count Almeida, being a civil official, found it strange that he couldn’t sense such an impressive presence from Arthur. Perhaps when one reaches the ultimate level of mastery, they appear as an ordinary person.
“Tsk, what can I do? I’ll have to prepare a gift and visit him again to make my proposal when he’s in a better mood.”
Although displeased, Count Almeida said this because politics couldn’t be conducted based on emotions.
The head butler, who understood this to mean he should prepare an appropriate gift, respectfully acknowledged the order, and they headed toward the Count Almeida family mansion.
* * *
That night, Count Almeida woke up at dawn with a burning sensation in his throat. While he occasionally woke up thirsty at dawn, he had never felt his throat burn like this before.
“Mmmmm.”
Water, water…
Fumbling around the nightstand in the darkness, he struggled to find his water cup. When his irritable hands finally grasped it, he poured the water down his burning throat.
After emptying the cup, nearly hurting his throat from gulping so desperately, he finally sighed with satisfaction.
“Whew.”
Only as he was placing the cup back on the nightstand did Count Almeida realize he wasn’t alone in the room.
“Gasp! Who’s there!”
He shouted reflexively. He was genuinely startled, but he also hoped someone would notice the intruder’s presence upon hearing his voice.
After what happened to Marquis Meggin recently, most nobility faction aristocrats kept personal guards nearby. Knowing how Marquis Meggin died, they had to protect their own lives.
However, the intruder showed no surprise at all despite the outburst.
This strange composure made Count Almeida feel a deep anxiety rising within him.
“Who are you? What do you want…!”
“Who am I? Well,” the stranger replied calmly.
“Would you recognize the name E?”