That World of Otome Games is Tough for Us - Volume 3 - Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

Fanoss’s Black Knight

AFTER BOARDING ONE of the castle’s Armors, Vandel had taken to the air. There, he spotted an unnatural ripple moving through the sky over the capital.

“I’ve never heard of magic rendering a person completely invisible,” he said to himself. “This must be the effect of some kind of Lost Item. But whatever tricks they’re using, it’s my own old age that undermines me.” He muttered the last few words bitterly to himself.

If Vandel were still in his prime, his eyes would’ve spotted the intruders sooner. He’d already have sniped them down. How vexing that age had diminished him. Perhaps equally infuriating was this piece of junk he was piloting—the castle guards’ sad excuse for an Armor.

“It only looks fancy on the surface. It has no functionality!”

Vandel had felt that something was off from the moment he entered the cockpit. His instincts proved accurate; he’d now realized that the Armor had less powerful output than he was accustomed to. This suit had probably been stored as a spare in case of emergencies, so perhaps it wasn’t shocking that it wasn’t in peak working condition. Still, its inferiority was obvious. 

Despite his defective Armor, Vandel had sped past the other guards. None had caught up with him yet. 

The Black Knight’s rifle eventually ran out of bullets. He tossed the weapon aside, lightening his load so he could fly faster.

“You vermin, stealing into the princess’s bedroom as she slept… I’ll rip you to pieces!”

As if responding to Vandel’s intense desire, his Armor accelerated until it at last reached the anomaly in the air. Vandel raised his blade, ready to cut whatever it was down, but stopped pressing the pedal at the last second.

“An Armor?!” he cried in disbelief.

An ash-gray suit descended from the sky, snatching something out of the air. On a subconscious level, Vandel sensed that this new enemy was truly dangerous—far more so than the anomaly he’d been pursuing a moment ago. He moved his focus to the suit instead.

“It’s enormous,” he noted. “About twice the size of my personal Armor, I’d wager.”

That was part of the reason he was wary. Under ordinary circumstances, the larger an armor, the less mobile it was. There were a few exceptions, but larger models were generally at a severe disadvantage. Therefore, under different circumstances, he might not have taken his opponent so seriously—but something told him this was a definitive exception.

“A hatch opened on his chest,” he murmured to himself. “What a fool I am!” 

Embarrassed though he was by his belated realization, he immediately sped toward his target, but it was already too late. In the few extra seconds he’d taken to react, he’d given the enemy a chance they never should’ve had.

“I really didn’t want to have to fight the Black Knight,” the enemy Armor said as it lurched forward, charging toward Vandel. It reached for the enormous container on its back and pulled out a battle axe, which it skillfully wielded in only one hand.

Vandel’s face pinched as his sword parried the attack. This Armor’s incredibly powerful! Is it on the same level as my personal suit? No… No, its functionality, at least, is superior.

The Black Knight fought calmly, analyzing his enemy all the while.

“Time for you to take a dirt nap, old man!” the enemy suit’s pilot cried.

The timbre of his voice clued Vandel in to his age. “You’re awfully young,” he said.

Thanks to his armor’s superior capabilities, the enemy was gearing up to overpower Vandel, but the Black Knight interrupted him with a swift kick that launched the two apart.

“Gah!” There was a note of panic in the enemy’s strangled cry. 

Vandel took that as confirmation of his suspicions. “I can tell you’ve been training, but it’s all too obvious that you have no real combat experience,” he said. “Unfortunately, that shows that you’ll be a true threat in the future, so I cannot allow you to live. Your life ends here.” 

He sped forward and swung his sword.

***

Vandel’s sword slammed into the side of Arroganz’s chest and sent a shock wave through the cockpit. Sparks flew upon impact as steel bit into steel. 

“Hey, Luxion, want to explain to me how this old man’s managing to chop through my plating?!”

Luxion had crafted Arroganz’s outer plating from a special, sturdy material that no normal weapon could pierce. It was lightweight but still perfectly durable—bulletproof, even. It was hard to believe that the Black Knight had made a dent in it, especially while piloting a subpar suit.

“Since he’s flying that garbage, I thought I’d have no problem beating him,” I complained.

I tried to pull back and put some distance between us, but the moment I did, something jerked my entire Armor.

“What the…?” My eyes landed on my left arm. “He’s got a wire wrapped around me?!”

In the few precious seconds when I’d let myself get distracted, the Black Knight had jammed his sword against Arroganz’s cockpit hatch. Fortunately, he hadn’t pierced it. Still, I sure didn’t want to repeat this experience, that was certain.

“If you think you can run from me, you’re sorely mistaken,” said the knight. He was tugging the other end of the wire.

No wonder I couldn’t get away. “You’re crazy, old man.”

With me lashed to him, the Black Knight continued jabbing his sword at me skillfully, denting and scraping Arroganz’s outer plating. His managing to damage my Armor at all was one issue, but the last thing I wanted was for him to target the same spot repeatedly. If he kept chipping away at the plating, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t cause permanent damage.

“Why, you…!” Air hissed beneath my teeth. I managed to parry one blow with my axe, but I was too slow to catch the next one. “Guess this is the difference between our skills as pilots.”

I was loath to admit it, but he was clearly superior. Arroganz was far more powerful than the piece of junk the knight was using, but his piloting skills surpassed mine by the same margin—or perhaps a bigger one.

“I can hear a Holfortian accent in your voice,” said Vandel. That little tidbit gave him even more motivation to take me down. His attacks became faster and more ferocious.

“Geh…”

“What did you do to our princess?” Vandel demanded. “Answer me, you Holfortian scum!”

He was so intimidating that I almost recoiled, unable to defend myself or put up any real resistance. I was becoming a complete sandbag. Each blow that landed jostled me in my seat. Static began to appear on the screen in front of me, obscuring the once-clear image. Apparently, he’d even damaged the outside cameras.

An alarm blared in the cockpit, indicating abnormalities in multiple sections of the suit. Further damage to Arroganz could put me in true danger.

“Fine. I can’t do anything to match your piloting skills. That just means I’ve got to take advantage of my superior suit and overpower you!” I readjusted my grip on the control sticks and slammed my foot against the accelerator. Arroganz’s engine rumbled in response.

“It’s futile!” Vandel cried.

Despite his claim, I realized I was on to something. What would the Black Knight hate more than anything else? Being bested not by superior might but by a superior Armor. He’d talked big, but I wasn’t the only one panicking in this fight. It definitely rattled him that, however much he sliced and slashed, Arroganz took no substantial damage.

That’s it. The reason he kept talking like that was to get in my head and psych me out.

“I’m the kind of guy who prefers only to fight the battles I can win. So let’s switch things up and make this a battle of Armor superiority, not pilot skill!”

“You pigheaded greenhorn!”

“Yeah, I am a greenhorn. That’s why I’m going to play it smart and press my advantage. You know I’m still an amateur, so you ought to play nicer, old man!”

Flames shot out of Arroganz’s thrusters, accelerating my Armor well past a point that the Black Knight could combat through skill alone. The wire still linked us together, and I whipped him through the air like a ragdoll.

“Holfortian scum!” he howled at me.

“Try not to die on me, okay?”

The sheer velocity put so much strain on Vandel’s Armor that its limbs began to rip off. Ultimately, not much more than his Armor’s torso remained; it hurtled through the air and slammed to the ground below.

“He’s not dead, is he?” I murmured to myself. When I saw his Armor move, a wave of relief washed over me. 

By this point, the other Armors from the castle’s security forces had finally reached me.

“There’s only one enemy! Surround him and take him down!” shouted their leader.

I stowed my battle axe in Arroganz’s rear container again, then threw my arms open wide. “This won’t be so lethal it’ll kill you. But it’s still gonna hurt, so I hope you’re ready.”

A hatch on Arroganz’s rear container opened, unleashing missiles in rapid succession. Those projectiles sped toward their targets, which were quick to dodge out of their immediate path.

“Wait!” one man cried. “Are these things following us?!”

They tried to outmaneuver my missiles, but the weapons’ homing capabilities ensured that they eventually found their mark, exploding upon impact. The ensuing blast damaged each enemy suit enough that they plummeted to the ground. Since the Armors were still mostly intact, I was pretty sure all the pilots were safe. The missiles’ firepower was at least low enough not to blow them to smithereens, I knew that much. Some of the Armors stayed airborne even after taking a direct hit.

“This thing’s eerie!” one yelled.

“Why’re these guys treating me like I’m inhuman or something?” I grumbled to myself. “Ah, well. I guess that makes things easier on me.”

Insofar as there was no discernible indication as to what country Arroganz was affiliated with, it was essentially an unidentified flying object. That was convenient for me. Once the Principality discovered that we’d stolen both their flutes, they’d have no choice but to lie low—for a while at least.

“With that out of the way,” I said, “I guess it’s time to make a run for it!”

“D-don’t let him get away!” some armor cried. “After him!”

“Ha! As if you could ever catch me, morons!”

Despite the notable damage to Arroganz’s exterior, I managed to shake them off fairly easily, speeding away.

***

Vandel’s Armor had crashed into the middle of a forest. It had lost all its appendages, but Vandel was unscathed. He jammed his foot against the cockpit hatch, ripping it off its hinges before lifting himself out of the opening. His eyes focused on the skies above, where the enemy was dancing circles around Fanoss’s knights.

Vandel clenched his fists at his sides. Part of his anger was directed toward his own countrymen, but the person he resented most right now was himself.

“The way that pilot moved suggests he was taught his skills somewhere. Could he be a Holfortian knight?”

The Armor that the enemy piloted wasn’t one Vandel had ever seen before, but the young man’s piloting reminded Vandel of the knights of Holfort. 

The thought that he’d lost to Holfortian scum was the most vexing of all. Vandel’s nails bit into his skin. A thin tendril of blood trickled between his fingers and dripped to the ground. His eyes were bloodshot and wide with rage as he watched his enemy flee.

“I won’t lose the next time we meet, brat. That I swear. I will bring you down.”

***

The next day, a large crowd congregated inside Hertrauda’s—or Rauda, as Hertrude called her—room. Specialized investigators had arrived and were using magic and other tools to search for traces of the intruders. Thus far, they were coming up frustratingly empty-handed.

“Who in the world could they have been?”

“Holfortians, perhaps?”

“What’s most shameful is that neither the knights nor maids noticed anything.”

Rauda watched the group discuss the situation. An earl by the name of Gelatt stood beside her. His opulent clothes spoke to the enormous authority he wielded within Fanoss, yet the way he gazed at Rauda was visibly cold and uncaring.

Gelatt’s fingers traced gently over his beloved mustache. “You failed us, Princess Hertrauda,” he said curtly. “How could you let the enemy take your Magic Flute?”

“It was inexcusable,” Rauda agreed, gritting her teeth. 

That seemed to give Gelatt some sort of sadistic satisfaction. “Of course it was,” he said. “That flute isn’t only a national treasure but also our secret weapon. It was only due to your capacity to wield it that you were even in the line of succession. I simply can’t understand how, knowing its deep significance, you allowed this to happen. Without the flute, your very reason for existing is gone as well.”

Gelatt was technically a retainer of the royal family, but the way he spoke was arrogant and condescending. It wasn’t at all the attitude a servant to the crown should have had.

Unable to stand by and watch this exchange any longer, Hertrude interjected, “How could you expect Rauda to withstand them when even our own knights were powerless? Gelatt, you need to let Rauda rest. Immediately.”

Gelatt frowned. He apparently had enough shame to realize Hertrude had a point, but even that didn’t discourage his belligerent attitude. “I cannot. We must collect as much information about these ruffians as we can, and as quickly as possible. Princess Hertrauda is our one and only eyewitness. She can rest once we conclude our investigation here.”

“I am ordering you to let her rest,” Hertrude said.

“This incident was disastrous, Your Highness. I understand that you’re both royalty, but I must request your cooperation nonetheless.” In saying this, Gelatt was openly ignoring her order, but no one else in the room dared to admonish him for that. They watched from a distance without involving themselves at all.

“Gelatt!” Hertrude snapped, losing her temper.

A moment later, a bear of a man—Vandel—marched into the room.

“I-It’s you, Black Knight!” Gelatt squeaked, suddenly sounding deferential. “Have you recovered from your injuries?”

Vandel glared at the cowering Gelatt. “Those injuries were minor and inconsequential. I am more concerned about how exhausted Princess Hertrauda looks. We’ll let her rest. I assume you take no issue with that.”

“What? N-no! Of course I don’t.” Gelatt’s face strained with reluctance, but Vandel was so intimidating that the earl didn’t dare argue the point. Once again, no one else in the room tried to intervene.

This whole exchange illustrated something very clearly to Hertrauda: Our only ally in the entire castle is Vandel. The others weren’t openly hostile to Hertrauda and her sister, but they also wouldn’t stick their necks out for the two princesses.

The situation made her recall something one of the intruders had told her. “You’re nothing but a convenient puppet to them.” That hadn’t been all. He mentioned something about the truth—that I should ask the old man in the archives about it. Maybe there really is something I’m not aware of.

It vexed her to feel that even the intruder was pulling her strings, yet she couldn’t help her growing curiosity.

***

Once Rauda was finally free from her interrogators, she followed the intruder’s advice and visited the old man in the archives. She’d been there countless times before, but she couldn’t remember ever having a proper conversation with the elderly archivist.

“Do you know anything about the truth of our nation?” she asked him.

The archivist looked visibly shaken, his eyes widening. “Wh-what could you be referring to, Your Highness? This old man doesn’t understand what you’re asking, I’m afraid.” If he was trying to deceive her, he was completely unconvincing.

“I want to know!” Rauda burst out. “I promise to keep whatever you reveal to me confidential. So, if you’re aware of something, please tell me. What is this ‘truth’ I don’t know about?”

The old man’s gaze drifted around the room as beads of sweat rolled down his face. After a few tense seconds, he seemed to make a decision. He moved to the rear of the room, plucked out a few hidden tomes, and then carried them back and set them in front of her.

“I was ordered to get rid of these a while ago. I suspect what you’re looking for is in them,” he said.

The books’ covers and pages were worn and ancient.

“Are these history books? Why would anyone order that they be…” Rauda trailed off as she cracked open one of the books and began perusing its contents. When she absorbed the secrets it contained, she was rattled. “What…what is this?”

The first tome she’d picked up recounted the history between Holfort Kingdom and the Principality of Fanoss. It was a story she knew well, but the details within differed wildly from what she’d been taught.

The old man kept his gaze lowered as he answered, “I don’t know whether that is the truth you’re looking for, but I can confirm that those are facts some within our nation have tried to bury.”

Hertrauda had grown up under the impression that Holfort was the source of all evils, but the history she was reading now painted the opposite picture: It had, in fact, been the Principality of Fanoss that started it all. She was so shocked that she was lost for words.

“I was ordered to dispose of these after the previous king and queen passed away,” the archivist explained. “But I was reluctant to follow through, given their value as accurate records of our history.” And so he’d disobeyed the order and instead stowed the books away.

Rauda’s entire body trembled. “And these…these are facts? This is all true?!”

But why—and moreover, how—did those intruders know about all this? If the archivist hid these and didn’t show them to anyone, how could they possibly know the books existed?!

The old man nodded. “Yes. Holfort did invade us twenty years ago, but it’s also true that we wreaked havoc within their borders before that.”

Rauda was in shock. This went against everything she knew, everything she’d believed. The story she’d been told was a convenient lie to hide all the difficult truths about Fanoss’s own culpability. It was like the very earth beneath her had crumbled and disappeared, leaving her in free fall.

“Why…why would anyone hide this? Why didn’t anyone tell us?” Her voice trembled.

“My deepest apologies, Your Highness.” The old man dropped to his knees and lowered his head, tears streaming down his wrinkled cheeks. “At one point, our country was split into two major groups: the pacifist faction and the pro-war faction. Your parents belonged to the former group. Almost immediately after you and your sister were born, the pro-war faction assassinated them.”

“My parents were…assassinated?” Rauda echoed numbly.

What the archivist explained next was actually an open secret within Fanoss. The royal family at that time had been strong advocates of peace. Given the complex history between Fanoss and Holfort, as well as the two nations’ distinct difference in military might, Rauda’s parents thought a protracted war would be unproductive and pointless. Their stance incensed the pro-war faction, which responded by murdering the king and queen and taking the princesses under their wing. That was how they’d reached their current situation.

Rauda crumpled to her knees. Fat tears tracked down her face. “This is too unfair!” she cried. “We really are just powerless figureheads.”

It finally made sense why they were treated so poorly at the castle, despite everyone referring to them respectfully. As far as the others were concerned, she and Hertrude were just convenient tools who could wield the Magic Flutes. There was no other meaning to their existence. People made a pretense of caring for Rauda and her sister, but their regard was paper-thin. None of them had ever considered the two their true princesses—not really.

“B-but wait…” Rauda swallowed the lump in her throat. “What about Vandel? He was my sister’s bodyguard. But only those from the pro-war faction—the very people who backstabbed our parents—ever approached us, right?!” Her panic rose like a tidal wave, threatening to crash over her.

Vandel was part of the pro-war faction, she knew that much. He was a hero, Fanoss’s savior. He had pushed strongly for the war between Fanoss and Holfort to continue. But if what the old archivist said was true, then…

“I don’t believe Lord Vandel was involved in your parents’ assassination,” the archivist answered with a pained look. “That said, he’s always been an important linchpin within the pro-war faction. I have a hard time believing he didn’t know about the murders beforehand.”

Rauda’s tears fell even faster as the betrayal of a man she’d so deeply trusted sank in.