Re:Zero Kara Hajimeru Isekai Seikatsu (LN) - Volume EX3 - Chapter 1

THE LOVE BALLAD OF THE SWORD DEVIL

What Became of Them

1

The light was dim here, and the air was dry.

The place was lonely and cold. Faint illumination from the tepid crystal lights shone chill against the hard stone walls and floor. The wind that found its way underground was cutting, a harsh reminder that the cold season had arrived.

“—”

For a very long while, he had lived totally cut off from the seasons or the passing of time. He had dedicated himself utterly to one single thing, spending the rest of his time on only the most minimal sleeping and eating—he practically lived like an animal.

But those days had ended, and now he was here.

Could he hold his head high and say there had been meaning to his dedication? He didn’t know.

“…Hey, you,” came a voice. “Yeah, you there. Hey, are you listening to me?”

“—”

“You deaf, new kid? Or maybe you’re dead? Heeey!”

The voice reached him where he was leaning absently against the wall.

He lifted his head and looked in the direction of the sound. Among the murky darkness was a set of iron bars, a passageway beyond the barrier, then more bars, and finally the owner of the voice, looking gleefully at him.

Two people, examining each other from behind two sets of iron bars—a picture that revealed that they were in prison.

“Finally bothered to look my way, eh? You’ve got an awfully big attitude for someone who just got here… Or maybe the poor newcomer, racked with despair, has decided the world isn’t worth paying attention to? Well, whatever! You wouldn’t be the first. Mmm? Hang on there. I didn’t notice right away ’cause it’s so damn dark and you’re so damn dirty, but you’re pretty young, eh?”

“…alking.”

“—? What’s that?”

“I said, you sure like talking. You’re the type who could chat with himself all day long, am I right?”

The sarcastic barb came reflexively. The unpleasant attitude was a bad habit of his, he remembered. He sighed slightly, playing with the hair on his forehead.

His brusque reply, however, only made his new friend smile even wider. “You’re right about that. I love to talk, I love to laugh—if you’ve heard of Olfe Six-Tongue, that’s me. And your luck ran out the minute they put you in the cell across from me. You might end up free or dead…whichever. Till it comes, it’ll be just you and me, passin’ the time.”

“‘Six-Tongue’…?”

“It’s, whaddayacallit, my nom de crime. They caught me back during the war, when I found six girls in the noble quarter who were lonely and scared, and I went around trying to make the lot of ’em feel better all at once. I told every one of ’em a different story, so I was called Six-Tongue because it was like I had a different tongue to use for each of them.”

“So you’re a common swindler, or a pimp. Pretty impressive, getting thrown in the royal prison for that.” The young man was taken aback by the calm demeanor of the prisoner smiling through the gloom.

He focused his eyes, and indeed, beyond the far set of iron bars was a sensual-looking man with long hair. He was fair skinned and lanky, with a charm and beauty that suggested a touch of high society.

The man who called himself Olfe looked across at the boy. “If you think it’s so funny, me being down here, let’s hear how amusing your life story is. If you don’t mind my saying, it’s no mean feat, getting tossed in the castle dungeon. What did you do to deserve it, eh?”

“Good question. Me, I…”

He stopped speaking and considered Olfe’s question in silence for a moment. The answer soon came to him, however.

“I just took my woman back from a bastard I didn’t like.”

“—”

“At least, that’s what I thought I was doing, but one thing led to another. And here I am.” He shook his head in exasperation, letting out a long sigh at the series of events that had led him to prison.

Olfe put a hand to his mouth, but he couldn’t contain his explosion of laughter. “Bwa! Bwa-ha-ha-ha! Well, hell, kid, you and I are in the same boat!”

“Don’t be stupid. I’m nothing like a man who cheated on six people. For me, there was only one.”

“There’s no difference! It was enough to get you thrown in jail anyway. Was the bastard a noble or a knight? …Or maybe the girl was special. How about it?”

“I’ll leave that to your imagination,” the young man said after a pause.

Olfe continued to laugh so hard he was slapping his knees, more than happy to let his mind come up with its own take on the subject.

The young man had no intention of telling him the truth. Objectively, however, there really wasn’t such a vast difference between his and Olfe’s circumstances. At the very least, it was true that both of their troubles involved a woman.

“Ahh, I like you, kiddo. I foresee prison life getting a lot more fun for a while.”

“You want to laugh, be my guest,” the young man replied. “But I suspect I’m going to disappoint you.”

“Hrm?” Olfe grunted.

The answer to his unspoken question came shortly but not from the cell across the hall—instead, it came from the door of the prison, at the stairwell leading up. There was a sharp click of boots landing on stone; it was a royal knight who stopped in front of the cell. He looked down at the young man within and narrowed his eyes behind his visor.

“Get out,” he said imperiously. “Someone’s here for you.” Then he opened the cell door. The young man got to his feet with palpable annoyance, then came out of the cell, the knight glancing at him as if to hurry him up.

“Well now, never thought we’d be saying good-bye so soon,” Olfe said, pursing his lips enviously as the knight led the young man by. “I’ll be lonely in here by myself. And I’m jealous you seem to have a very kind friend.”

“I wonder about that.” The young man smiled wryly at the lothario’s words, picturing the “kind friend” who waited for him. Then the youth—Wilhelm Trias—winked and said, “Depending how angry she is, it may turn out to be a death sentence yet.”

And then he left the dungeon.

2

“Would you rather have been executed? It’s not too late to change the sentence, you know.”

When Wilhelm emerged from below ground to the surface, he was greeted by a cool breeze, sunlight, and the quiet growl of his rescuer.

The cell Wilhelm had occupied until just a moment earlier was within the fabled Prison Tower, adjacent to the royal castle. It was famous as the place where the most heinous of criminals were imprisoned, where the guards were every bit as frightening as the inmates.

The beautiful young woman cut a strange figure in a place like this. Even as angry as she obviously was, it was impossible not to fall in love with her at first sight.

She had hair red as flame that fell to her waist, and eyes as blue as the open sky. She had slender, pale limbs and a healthy figure with lovely symmetry. Her features were impeccable; she had an airy beauty like a flower in the sun.

Theresia van Astrea was her name—the name of this handsome and furious young woman.

“Wilhelm?” She fixed him with a stern look, but he had been so taken by the mere sight of her that he had lost his voice. Loath for her to realize it, however, he held up his hands.

“Right, I understand, I’m sorry,” he said, giving a pointed shake of the restraints around his hands. “Think you could take these off?”

“Oh, for… I wonder if you really do understand.”

Annoyed by the perfunctory reply, Theresia nonetheless gave a shake of her right hand. Instantaneously, her pale fingers cut the restraints clean in half.

The wood board that had encased his hands fell noisily to the ground. Wilhelm gently worked his freed wrists, making sure they still had feeling in them. Then he noticed how Theresia was looking at him. She had squinted her round eyes and pursed her lips.

“What’s wrong?” Wilhelm asked. “Something happen?”

“What’s wrong…? You’re the one who was thrown into jail with hardly a word of explanation. Aren’t you surprised? Or angry? Don’t you want to know what’s going on?”

“I crashed a royal ceremony. I’m grateful I managed to escape with my life.”

“So you at least recognize the magnitude of what you did… I’m almost a bit surprised.” Theresia smirked.

“Eh, y’know,” Wilhelm agreed with a shrug.

The commotion Wilhelm had caused had been a matter of tremendous import for the Dragonfriend Kingdom of Lugunica. Had it not been for the mercy of His Majesty, Jionis Lugunica—a well-known quality of the ruler—Wilhelm might well have been executed as a traitor.

“You know that if His Majesty hadn’t intervened, you might have been put to death on the spot, right? Has that even sunk in?”

“You think some soldiers could execute the guy who beat the Sword Saint? I know our king isn’t renowned for his strategic mastery, but even he wouldn’t waste soldiers on something as stupid as that right after a civil war just ended.”

“You are much too confident! And irreverent, to boot! I can’t believe you’re so full of yourself!”

“Besides, there wasn’t enough strength in that whole gathering hall to face down you and me.”

“And that’s the other thing! Don’t just assume that I would fight on your side…”

These were not very well-considered proclamations to be making within a stone’s throw of the castle, let alone with a knight walking practically alongside.

As a matter of fact, the knight, overhearing their conversation, found his eyes bugging out of his face, but he quickly chose to act as if he hadn’t heard anything. It was a wise decision.

Theresia was too busy turning first red and then pale to notice this small act of self-protection.

Wilhelm took a step closer to Theresia and gazed directly into her eyes.

“…Y-yes, what is it?” she said.

“Even with the world against us, I know whose side I would be on. You should, too.”

“—! You, sir, simply do not understand people’s feelings…!”

“—? I know how you feel better than anyone. You’re talking nonsense—are you okay?”

“Wait! Just hold it right there, please. You’re going to confuse me to death…!” Theresia looked away, red up to her ears, flailing her arms. Her expression could instantly change at any moment—from anger to exasperation to embarrassment.

“—”

No matter how much I see of her, I’ll never get tired of it.

How often during their separation had he imagined his reunion with Theresia? But now he found it was nothing like what he had pictured.

The real Theresia, standing there before him, was so much sweeter and more beautiful than anything he had remembered.

“Theresia.”

“What?! My mind is very busy right now! And a certain someone is to blame for—”

“Come here.”

“—”

Wilhelm opened his arms to the yelling, gesticulating Theresia. The curt gesture was enough to leave her with eyes wide, lost for words.

There was a moment of silence and hesitation. Wilhelm simply stood with open arms, waiting for Theresia’s reaction.

In the face of this unpretentious act, Theresia could only smile weakly.

“…Sigh. I guess this means I lose.”

“I think we settled that already.”

“Not! What! I! Meant! This is completely different! Sheesh…”

Wilhelm looked genuinely puzzled; Theresia gave him her most annoyed sigh, then took a step forward. She flew into his open arms, nuzzling her forehead against his neck.

Wilhelm embraced her, the heat of her body nearly burning him. Her frame was so delicate it seemed she might snap in two if he hugged her too hard, yet he couldn’t keep himself from pulling her in as close as he could.

Each embraced the other as tightly as they could, and from the man’s chest, the woman looked up and said, “Welcome home, Wilhelm. You kept this girl waiting for too long.”

The man looked down at the woman in his arms and replied, “You’re right, Theresia. I’m sorry for making you wait.”

To touch Theresia, to see her so close, Wilhelm couldn’t help smiling as well.

It was a chance to be so near to each other that their breath mingled, and they could feel each other’s pounding hearts—to the two of them, this was as good as a miracle.

“—”

This girl was precious to him, and he had reached her finally, realizing a wish no normal person could have made to come true.

Wilhelm gently stroked Theresia’s red hair with a hand hardened by much time holding a sword. Theresia’s face softened as she embraced him at last, sharing a moment no one would disrupt. Then she pressed her face back into his chest, breathing his smell deeply.

“Wilhelm.”

“What?”

“…You stink.”

It was, perhaps, not the most romantic end to their reunion.

3

The Demi-human War, the civil conflict that had plagued the Dragonfriend Kingdom of Lugunica for so long, had finally ended.

Nine years of turmoil had been brought to a finish by just one girl—the Sword Saint, Theresia van Astrea.

She had a prowess with the blade worthy of the legendary title of Sword Saint, and as she led the royal army to victory, her name became known throughout the land, a feat earned her showers of honor and praise.

This Sword Saint, beautiful and stalwart, was the embodiment of people’s hopes and ideals. When a royal ceremony was held commemorating the end of hostilities, people from across the nation crowded in, hoping to get a glimpse of her.

The moment Theresia appeared in the great hall, she was instantly the focus of every eye. If the ceremony had then gone on uninterrupted, she would have been left with an unshakable reputation as the Sword Saint, and her name would have echoed down the history of Lugunica into eternity.

But that was only if nothing had happened—and something did.

“What in the world were you thinking?! You should be ashamed of yourself! Ashamed!”

This shout, the first thing out of the speaker’s mouth, rattled the house and echoed into the clear sky. The voice was practically sharp enough to cut, and anyone not accustomed to facing down a sword fighter would have flinched.

In this house, however, there was no one quite so adorably vulnerable.

“…Geez, some welcome. What’s wrong with you?”

The shout had hardly faded before a rebuttal had been offered by a man who looked neither adorable nor vulnerable—the object of the shouting himself, Wilhelm.

When it came to this particular conversation partner, Wilhelm’s caustic remarks had a tendency to provoke even more shouting. And this time was no exception.

“What do you mean, what’s wrong with me?! I can think of a million other things you ought to say before something as stupid as that!”

As usual, the girl in the dress was getting redder and redder. She had gorgeous golden hair that cascaded to her shoulders, and sharp eyes that reflected her strength; she was quite a distinctive woman. If she could have maintained her graciousness, no one would question her claims to nobility, but in point of fact, emotional outbursts like this were more characteristic of her.

Wilhelm had known the girl long enough to be able to make such an appraisal.

She was Carol Remendes, a sword fighter whom Wilhelm had come to know through his duties during the civil war. She was perfectly capable, but what left a deeper impression on Wilhelm than her sword thrusts were her verbal jabs.

Her relationship with him might be best encapsulated by the angry twitch that started above both their eyes when they saw each other.

“Carol, it’s all right. I’m glad to know you feel this way, but I’m not angry, so…”

“I know you aren’t angry, Lady Theresia, so I’ll be angry in your stead!!”

“Oh, for…”

Theresia frowned and shrugged; her attempt to placate Carol had backfired. She stuck out her tongue at Wilhelm in a gesture of resignation, but she couldn’t really give up yet. Sadly, Wilhelm had no way to talk Carol down. His only hope was to quickly advance things to the final stage—in which the young man standing beside Carol would clean up the mess for him.

“Grimm, doesn’t your woman ever shut up? I can’t even have a decent conversation here. Get her to pipe down, like you always do.”

“—”

“Don’t give me that little smile of yours. This isn’t funny at all.”

Wilhelm made his grimace a little sterner, but the young man sporting a pleasant expression only smiled more and tapped Carol on the shoulder, shaking his head. That one gesture was enough to douse Carol’s flaring anger, convincing her to let it go with a sigh and a dark look.

“…You’d best be thankful to Grimm, Wilhelm. If he and Lady Theresia weren’t here, believe me when I say there’d be a lot more than some shouting.”

“Mmm. You know, I’m still not used to hearing you say a man’s name before mine, Carol. It makes me feel a little lonesome, but I’m happy for you.”

“L-Lady Theresia, how could you say that…?”

Her face was red again, not from anger this time but from embarrassment. Theresia gave her an impish smile. The two cheerful young women had the intimacy of sisters, and to see them like this was a pleasant sight.

“…What?” Wilhelm growled, shooting a glance to his side. The young man, Grimm Fauzen, wrote something on a piece of paper he carried and showed it to Wilhelm.

You were smiling.

The paper was how Grimm, who had lost his voice on the battlefield, communicated what he was thinking. But even without it, the expression on his face generally made clear what was in his mind. Such as the fact that at the moment, he was very much teasing Wilhelm.

“Of course I was. What do you take me for?”

“—”

Wilhelm regarded Grimm’s silent smirk with indignation. It would have been in character for him to get angry at such mockery, but the smiling, voiceless Grimm looked somehow happy. The grin robbed Wilhelm of the annoyance he was entitled to, mollifying him enough that he didn’t have it in him to bite back.

He now realized he had worried them badly enough to give them this level of anxiety.

The four of them were currently in the Sword Saint’s apartments, which stood in a corner of the Nobles’ District of the capital of Lugunica—in other words, they were in the parlor of Theresia’s personal residence. Theresia had brought Wilhelm here after freeing him from the Prison Tower, and then, brooking no argument, had shoved him into the bath. She instructed him firmly to wash off every bit of nose-prickling stench, and when he had finally cleansed himself with the hot water and returned to the living area, he had been met by an angry shout.

“Why are you two here anyway?”

Once the fiery reunion had cooled down a little, Wilhelm sat on the sofa and belatedly voiced the obvious question.

“This is Theresia’s place, right?” he said. “You guys have some business here?”

He ran his hands through his still-wet hair as Grimm and Carol looked at each other. A moment later, Carol sat down across from him and said quietly, “…Why do you think we’re here? To see you, obviously. And anyway, what’s wrong with me being in Lady Theresia’s house?”

“In a dress? I didn’t hear anything about a ball tonight.”

“It’s because I didn’t have time to change after what you did!”

Grasping the hem of her blue dress, Carol exploded once again. Grimm, who sat beside her wincing, was similarly still dressed in his formal military attire. They must have come directly from the ceremony hall.

Wilhelm had unintentionally antagonized Theresia as well. “Hey, now,” she said. “Carol and Grimm came here because they were worried about you. If you don’t look even a little pleased, and just spend all your time being snippy with them, what are they going to think?”

“Come to think of it, why aren’t you in a dress?” Wilhelm asked. “Why’d you change?”

“Huh? Because it got dirty in my fight with you, and because it was hard to move in… Would you rather I hadn’t changed?”

“The dress was just unusual because I don’t normally see you like that. I don’t particularly care either way.”

“Is that so…? Then if there’s another chance, would you want to see me in a dress again?”

“—?”

Wilhelm was the epitome of “failure to understand,” and Theresia responded with brimming eyes. “How can you be so, so dense?! Right when I go out on a limb for you!”

However, she quickly remembered that there were other people in the room and blushed uncomfortably.

Grimm and Carol were watching Theresia and Wilhelm with looks of surprise. As close as they were to the Sword Devil and the Sword Saint respectively, they had never seen anything like this and would never have imagined it. It was almost as if the Sword Devil was a run-of-the-mill man, and the Sword Saint nothing more than a typical young woman. The titles had taken on lives of their own, lives from which these two people suddenly seemed vastly removed.

“—!”

Carol was the first to break under the emotion at the sight of the pair. She buried her face in Grimm’s shoulder, unable to speak. Grimm leaned into his overwhelmed lover, patting her back gently and smiling.

“…Carol has been with me for many, many years. Anytime I went to that field of flowers, she was with me, and she’s always worried about me.”

In place of Carol, still struggling to regain her composure, Theresia took it upon herself to explain their relationship to Wilhelm. Wilhelm gave a quick tug of his chin to show that he understood.

This explained everything: why Carol was present, and why she had been with Theresia when the latter first took to the field as the Sword Saint.

And, perhaps, how much Carol’s heart had been anguished on Theresia’s account.

“She’s got strange tastes,” Wilhelm said.

“…Do you realize you might as well be talking about yourself?” Theresia responded.

“I don’t have the slightest idea what you mean.” Wilhelm sank into the sofa, feigning ignorance. Theresia merely shrugged. Then she coughed delicately and gave a small bow in Grimm’s direction.

“Sorry about this,” she said. “He’s easily embarrassed and doesn’t always know how to express his feelings in words… Although sometimes words aren’t enough. He’s not a bad person.”

It’s okay. I know.

“It’s a big relief to hear that from you.”

I’ve been with him many years—still haven’t seen him evolve from an animal into a person.

“What are you two talking about over there? You not talking about me, are you?”

Easily embarrassed? An animal? One could only let so many insults slide.

Theresia and Grimm, of course, met his question with innocent shakes of their heads. Wilhelm made an exasperated click of his tongue. Theresia put a hand to her mouth, laughing to see him so annoyed. When she regained her composure, she said, “Say, Wilhelm…”

Wilhelm turned his entire body to face her. A serious shade had entered Theresia’s blue eyes. Wilhelm unconsciously straightened up; it was a gravity he couldn’t ignore.

Theresia hesitated a second when she saw she had his full attention, then dived in.

“This isn’t easy to ask, but…what do you want to do next?”

“That’s a pretty open question. What do you mean by that?”

“I mean, like from a really broad perspective, maybe? We have to talk about where you’re going to live, the work you’re going to do. You can live here, of course, and I can give you a stipend so you won’t have any trouble meeting your basic needs, but…”

“Hold it.”

Wilhelm held up a hand to stop Theresia’s increasingly frantic line of thought. She seemed to be rushing to the answers, but there were so many things about the question that nagged at him. With his doubts piling up, Wilhelm furrowed his brow.

“Oh, Wilhelm, there’s that frown again… I keep telling you not to do that.”

“Let’s worry about that later. There’s something more important to talk about now… What did you mean by all that?”

“All what…?”

“Like where I was going to live, and my work. I—”

He broke off, feeling a disquieting premonition closing in upon him. He looked Theresia in the face, choosing his words carefully, seriously.

“What am I now?”

The question lacked any specificity, was open to endless possible answers. Theresia looked troubled.

“It pains me to say it, but…right now, I don’t think you’re anything at the moment.”

“ ”

“To be perfectly blunt…you’re…basically unemployed?”

“…Unemployed.”

Astonished by the sound of the word, Wilhelm gazed at Theresia in wonder. She averted her eyes. He looked to Grimm only to find a wry smile in reply. Finally, Carol glared at him.

“That much should be obvious. You damnable idiot…!” She cursed Wilhelm, her eyes still wet with tears and her face still red.

4

Deserter—went AWOL and then missing for purely personal reasons.

Perhaps it goes without saying, but this was the current statement on Wilhelm Trias’s record, and objectively speaking, it described everything of note.

If there were to be an addendum, it might mention that he had gone AWOL directly after receiving his knighthood, and that he had forfeited both his knightly station and a variety of military commendations, besmirching his status.

“All of which means that your little stunt at the ceremony was written up as nothing more than a garden-variety break-in. Apparently, the object of the theft was without precedent—the Sword Saint’s heart! Bwa-ha-ha-ha! Way to go, you master thief, you!”

“I don’t think this is the time to be laughing it up…”

Wilhelm put his head in his hands and exhaled; the giant’s chortling welcome had done nothing for his mood.

He was at the national military base, in one of the offices reserved for the officer corps. It was a simple stone room that held a desk, along with some chairs and a table for receiving visitors, and when the occupant of the room had discovered it was Wilhelm who had come to see him, he quickly put aside his paperwork to offer a roaring welcome.

Wilhelm, however, wasn’t the least bit amused to be greeted with this riotous laughter. Still, when he considered the position he was in, maybe it was only natural he should be received this way.

“A deserter?” Wilhelm said. “So that’s why they threw me in the Prison Tower. With that on my record, I ought to have gone into solitary, but instead they treated me like an average criminal.”

“Just to be clear, after what you did, they would’ve treated you that way even if you hadn’t had desertion on top of it. There was a complaint from your escort at the tower, too. He said he got sick watching you acting all lovey-dovey after you were freed.”

The great, muscled man gave a rambunctious laugh. He was the master of this room: Bordeaux Zergev, leader of Zergev Squadron, the kingdom’s elite forces.

Two years ago, he had been Wilhelm’s direct superior. Even now, with Wilhelm uprooted, the two trusted each other implicitly.

To put it another way, they were close enough that one could laugh heartily while the other frowned and sucked his teeth in displeasure.

“Plan to use that as an excuse to fling me back in a cell?”

“I don’t. But you should learn some restraint. ’Course, maybe it’s a little late for that, given the show you put on in front of half the damn kingdom. You agree, Miss Theresia?”

“Eerrgh!”

Theresia, sitting beside Wilhelm, reacted with surprise and embarrassment when the focus of attention suddenly shifted to her.

“Gah! What’s this, Miss Theresia? That was the cutest little scream.”

Bordeaux chuckled. Wilhelm moved to cover the Sword Saint. “Watch it,” he said to his former commander. Then he spoke over his shoulder to Theresia. “And you, just calm down a bit.”

Theresia ducked her head and stuck out her tongue. “R-right. Sorry. I was only a little startled.”

Bordeaux seemed to forget all about his joking as he watched this interaction between the two of them with eyes the size of dinner plates.

“Now, ain’t this something. Miss Theresia…I haven’t ever known the honored Sword Saint to make a face like that.”

“And yet you know her well enough to say that with such confidence?”

“During the two years you were gone, Zergev Squadron was on the front lines constantly. That meant working side by side with Miss Theresia. So yeah, I saw plenty of her.”

The mention of his two-year absence made Wilhelm fall silent.

Bordeaux, however, took a breath and looked kindly at Theresia. “I won’t say I got too many chances to talk with her, though.”

“Ahem,” Theresia said. “I must, er, apologize for being so embarrassingly ill-mannered back then…”

“That makes two of us,” Bordeaux answered. “When I think of how things started out, I don’t blame you for not wanting to be friends with me. I should probably count myself lucky I didn’t find myself on the wrong end of your sword!”

“Hey, what exactly happened between you two…?”

Apparently, their relationship had been a turbulent one, and Theresia said nothing to suggest otherwise. It sounded like a miracle that they could even sit politely and laugh together like this.

“Seen Grimm and Miss Carol?” Bordeaux asked.

“I met them at Theresia’s place,” Wilhelm said. “Carol’s still a nag, and Grimm’s still obnoxious for a guy who does nothing but smile.”

“If they look no different than before to you, they’re being considerate. You should be grateful.”

“Hrm?”

Wilhelm gave Bordeaux a suspicious look at this seemingly loaded comment, but his former commander didn’t elaborate. Bordeaux ran a hand through the close-cropped hair on his head, then started in: “So. Why’re you here? I know you. You didn’t come here just to rekindle an old friendship. Go ahead. Come at me with a single stroke, just like you used to.”

“Don’t you tell me—” But then Wilhelm clicked his tongue at his own habit of snappishness. “Sorry, forget what I said. I’m just getting heated.” He straightened up and turned toward Bordeaux. Then he bowed his head to the giant on the other side of the desk. “Bordeaux, I have a favor to ask. I know it might be unreasonable, but—”

“You want to be reinstated as a soldier, am I right?”

“If you’ve already figured it out, that’ll make things quick. I—”

“Let me make something else clear. I’m sorry to tell you this, but it won’t be easy.”

“ ”

The resolute look on Wilhelm’s face caused Bordeaux to speak to him with particular gravity. The man known as the Mad Dog crossed his huge arms and regarded Wilhelm severely. The young man’s expression seemed to declare that he wouldn’t be cowed. But while Bordeaux’s gaze was forceful, he wasn’t attempting to intimidate Wilhelm.

“Think back to how you left the army two years ago. You left a note on a single sheet of paper and then vanished, right when the civil war was at its worst… Whatever extenuating circumstances there might have been, objectively speaking, that’s how it’s going to be seen. Knowing that, do you expect anyone to back your reinstatement?”

“I…”

“Sorry. I’m as angry about it as you are. And I’m glad you’ve come back safely. As for your feelings for Miss Theresia, you certainly have my blessing. But the problem here isn’t how I personally feel. None of this is. You understand that?”

Bordeaux wasn’t smiling anymore, and Wilhelm didn’t make a sound.

It was all but impossible to forget how two years before, when he had headed to the field of battle all by himself, he had left notice at the garrison of his intent to depart the royal army. He had been determined. But his resolve had been stubborn and self-centered.

When the land of his birth had been threatened by the flames of war, Wilhelm had thrown away the knighthood he had only just gained, abandoned the military, and gone to help his hometown.

But he didn’t make it in time, returning only to find his village burned and his own life in danger. Ultimately, without a word to the comrades who had gone after him, Wilhelm decided to disappear.

It was absolutely disloyal. The fact that Bordeaux was even willing to see him now was owed entirely to the utter strength of their friendship.

“The way you crashed that ceremony is a problem as well. Obviously, the most important factor is that His Majesty Jionis is a man of tremendous compassion. But your release from prison? That’s because Miss Theresia asked for it.”

“She…what…?”

Bordeaux’s mention of Theresia’s name forced Wilhelm to reflect on how reckless he had been. Theresia twirled her fingers in her red hair, looking somewhat distraught.

“Is that true?” Wilhelm asked.

“Er, well, I guess so, but…it’s not that big a deal, okay?”

“Love’s a hell of a thing!” Bordeaux said. “I heard His Majesty Jionis offered her anything she wanted as a reward for her deeds, and she asked him to use his influence to free you. Now there’s someone who hasn’t got a greedy bone in her body…”

“It was greedy—I asked for what I wanted most.”

“Well, there you have it. You lucky dog.” Bordeaux winked; Wilhelm groaned at being teased like this.

Even Wilhelm was not immune to the shock of hearing that. In short, Theresia had been offered her heart’s desire for her contribution in ending the Demi-human War, and her only request was for Wilhelm to be released from the Prison Tower. It was as if she had taken every day of those two years she had forced herself to fight and given them to him.

Wilhelm sat in oppressed silence. Bordeaux spoke to him in a remarkably calm voice. “That civil war seemed to go on forever, but it’s over now. When they figure out how they want to reorganize the army, they’ll be recruiting just as many men as before. How about you forget about the military? Take this chance to live a life of peace.” Wilhelm looked up in astonishment, but Bordeaux shook his head gently and went on, “Fighting isn’t the only thing there is to life. Cozy up to that woman there, spend a nice, quiet life together—I don’t think that would be so bad. Get what I’m saying?”

Bordeaux looked down at the desk where he had set his hands. Wilhelm casually followed his gaze, but then he noticed it. A monocle with a broken lens sitting in one corner of Bordeaux’s desk.

At that moment, Wilhelm understood what Bordeaux was really getting at with his exhortations to a life of peace.

“You’re both still alive. You both got to see each other again… Can’t that be enough for you?”

Bordeaux struggled to keep the emotion out of his voice, but it peeked through anyway. Wilhelm couldn’t bear it any longer. “—I think I’ll go home for today,” he said. “Sorry to bother you, Bordeaux.”

“Oh, Wilhelm! Grr! Master Bordeaux, I’m sorry about this. I’ll excuse myself, too.”

“I’m the one who ought to apologize, not bein’ able to offer you a proper welcome,” Bordeaux said firmly. Then he added, “Wilhelm.”

Wilhelm stopped with his hand on the door. He didn’t turn around.

“Listen,” Bordeaux said. “Whatever else has happened, I’m glad you’re back. If nothing else, that much is true. Even if you are still a damned idiot.”

“…I’m only just now realizing what an idiot I’ve been.”

“Savor it. You never did think enough about the people around you, how your actions affected them.”

“Yes, sir, Captain Bordeaux.”

For one irony-laced moment, they returned to the relationship they had once shared, and then Wilhelm left Bordeaux’s office.

The sound of his shoes on the stone passageway echoed around the hall, and Wilhelm sighed as he thought back over the conversation he’d just had. From beside him, Theresia peered at his face.

“So what are you going to do, Wilhelm? It doesn’t look like you have any port in this storm.”

“Like I said, I’m going to withdraw for now. I’ve learned that a frontal attack won’t help make up for what I did. I guess I can be glad to have figured out that much.”

“Umm… I could try to work things out, if you want.”

“I already feel pitied enough; don’t make it worse.” Wilhelm stopped and pointed at Theresia. She looked at the finger he thrust out at her and groaned uncomfortably.

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask you… Are you mad?”

“I think you have a lot more reason to be mad at me.”

“You really think so? Right now, I feel like I have a lot more reasons to be happy than to be mad…”

Theresia thought for a moment, then smiled placidly. Watching her put her hands to her chest as if she were embracing something precious, Wilhelm snorted, utterly annoyed.

He looked away from her then, out the window. “…I’m sorry that you had to free me. I didn’t know I’d caused you so much trouble.”

“It’s all right,” Theresia replied. “I meant what I said. I simply talked to His Majesty in order to get what I really wanted. I had nothing else to use that request for—I might as well not have had it otherwise.”

“But after all you did, I’m still out of a job.”

“No need to feel so down… I’ll make sure you can live a decent life, okay?” Theresia puffed out her rather impressive chest and smiled even more brightly to encourage Wilhelm. But there were times when a woman’s help can wound a man’s pride. Especially at a time like this.

Not only did it make him feel helpless, it left Wilhelm with nothing to do but confront his own foolhardiness.

“I told you, you don’t have to take care of me.”

“No! I didn’t mean I would—I was just saying, if it comes down to it, you have my support… Ouch!”

He flicked her forehead for forgetting what he’d said only moments earlier; then as Theresia’s eyes brimmed, he pointed out the window. He was pointing down into the castle town, in the direction of Theresia’s home.

“Having you with me takes up half the space in my brain. It’s impossible to think. Just…go somewhere else.”

“You’re the worst! That’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard!”

“You’re the one who doesn’t seem to know how to shut up. I’ll be back by tonight. You head back to the house first…”

Wilhelm gave a dismissive flap of his hand and made to walk away, but he stopped when he felt a tug on his sleeve. He turned and found himself looking into Theresia’s eyes; she was holding on to his clothing. She looked at his face and her fingers, then murmured, “Huh? Is this…? What is this?”

“Don’t start asking those questions. I’ll come back. I promise. So calm down.”

“…Will you really come home? You won’t just disappear for two years?”

“You really worry about everything… Okay. It’s my fault. I apologize.”

He gently grasped the hand holding his sleeve, then pulled Theresia to him, into an embrace. Theresia tensed for a second, then let that tension drain from her body and relaxed. He stroked her back gently for a moment, then released her. She didn’t look anxious anymore.

“Go back to the mansion,” he said. “I’ll finish my errands and join you soon enough.”

“Mm-hmm. I’ll have dinner waiting for you. I’ll make something you can eat even if it gets cold.”

“I’ll hurry back when it’s still warm.”

Wilhelm knew Theresia had no reason to trust him. He pressed a finger to her forehead, then nodded at her, and this time they actually parted ways. He could feel Theresia’s gaze boring into him until he rounded the corner, and for both their sakes, he resisted the urge to look back. There would be no end to it if he did.

“I’ve gotta admit…I’m kind of pathetic.”

He could feel them in his bones: Carol’s lecture at the apartments, and Bordeaux’s argument of just a few minutes ago. The way Wilhelm had cast his relationships aside for two years had come back to haunt him. But he was only reaping what he had sown.

Sadly, Wilhelm and his bones weren’t soft enough to be bent into some new shape by this alone. In fact, he might have been the hardest thing alive in the entire world.

That fact had been a catalyst for the events of the past two years, and standing where he was now, no one could deny the truth of it, nor would he let them.

“ ”

Wilhelm frowned and began to think, renewing his resolution. He looked briefly at the scenery outside to find his destination. Then he began walking, his feet moving almost of their own accord.

He was going to a place that had truly stood unchanged for two years.

5

Wilhelm left the castle, winding his way down the flagstone path patrolled by guards.

Two years before, he had always hated going up and down this street. He still didn’t like it now, although for different reasons. But he had come to believe that traveling it had a certain meaning and value.

“I guess it’s been a while…Pivot.”

Wilhelm stopped before a stele engraved with a multitude of names and gave voice to one of them.

It was the name of the former aide-de-camp of Zergev Squadron, and the owner of the broken monocle on Bordeaux’s desk—the name of a brother in arms who had laid down his life during the civil war.

Pivot’s was not the only name inscribed on the wall; there were many others, countless others. One stone was not enough to contain all the names of the dead; instead, many stelae were lined up there in that small graveyard. This was the army’s communal memorial to all those who had been killed in the war.

It was also a place Wilhelm reviled—for in the past, he had never been able to find any meaning in death.

“…I’m sorry. I didn’t bring any flowers or anything for you. Hope you don’t mind.”

Maybe it was because the war was finally over, but there was a vast number of flowers and other offerings.

On the way to the graveyard, he had passed by several guards wearing dark expressions. There was always someone coming or going. Someone looking to speak to those who had lost their lives, to offer them comfort or to ask for answers they could never give.

“ ”

Wilhelm had nothing to offer to the dead, nor was he particularly versed in etiquette. So as he stood before the stone, he silently presented a familiar salute. He wasn’t in uniform and didn’t have his sword, which had been confiscated. He could only offer the barest imitation of the salute, a poor sight to see. Yet his execution of each movement was flawless, and if anyone had been around to observe him, they would surely have been impressed.

Pivot had been a stickler for discipline, had pounded the salute into them. If Wilhelm was going to salute him, he was going to do it in a way that would make the man proud. That, and that alone, was his offering.

“ ”

He had nothing further to say. He didn’t feel any need.

He hadn’t come here because he expected to get anything out of it. But after seeing so many familiar faces, it would have felt wrong not to pay his respects at this place.

That had been all he’d planned on, at any rate. So what were these feelings that tugged at him? Now that Wilhelm had finally gone to see him after so long, was Pivot still as anal retentive and meddlesome as he had been in life?

“Well. An unexpected place to meet an unexpected person.”

“You’re…”

Wilhelm had turned away from the stone to go back the way he’d come, but those words stopped him. At the entrance to the graveyard was someone regarding him with great interest.

It was a slim man in his mid-thirties. At first glance, he appeared to be a bureaucrat, the kind of person with whom Wilhelm would not have had much acquaintance considering how he spent most of his life among fighting men. But Wilhelm remembered this particular person right away. Back during the war, he had spoken at the strategy conference to which Wilhelm had been invited…

“You’re…Miklotov. That was your name.”

“I’m so pleased you remember me. The honorable Wilhelm Trias. I haven’t forgotten about you for even a single day.”

The man—Miklotov MacMahon, assistant to the prime minister of the kingdom—looked at Wilhelm with great fondness, his perceptive eyes flashing.

6

Just as he had promised, Wilhelm returned home when the sun was half-sunken in the western sky.

Though perhaps home isn’t quite the right word, he thought to himself. It was Theresia’s house.

Still, as she greeted him, Theresia was in high spirits. “Good, you came home, like you said you would. Good on you, keeping a promise.” Hearing that, Wilhelm didn’t feel he needed to think of this as anything other than coming home.

When Theresia ushered him into the dining area, Wilhelm was surprised. The table wasn’t very large, but every inch of it was crammed with food. The dishes incorporated every color of the rainbow, and Wilhelm couldn’t help but be impressed upon realizing that Theresia’s claims about her cooking had not been empty bragging. But still—

“You made all this? How are we going to eat it? There’s way too much for only two people.”

“It’s all right. Carol and Grimm are going to join us later, and I think four people should be able to handle this, don’t you? Besides, I didn’t know what you like to eat, so… Well, I wanted you to enjoy it, so I made whatever I could. I figure something in here should be to your taste, right?”

“I don’t have any particular likes or dislikes when it comes to food.”

“Then why’d I bother making all this?!”

It seemed like too much food even for four people, but maybe Carol or perhaps Theresia herself had an unexpectedly large appetite. Wilhelm tended to eat about as much as the average person, and Grimm a little bit less.

“I’m surprised you’re such a good cook…and that you don’t simply have your servants do it.”

“I can tell what you mean. I don’t like to make people take care of me. I want to do what I can for myself. So I’ve only asked for the minimum of help taking care of these apartments. Anyway, it’s not like I was around much.” Theresia scratched her pale cheek shyly with one finger, an earnest expression on her face.

This mansion was one of the rewards given to Theresia, the Sword Saint. It wasn’t one of the things she had received after the conclusion of the civil war; it had been granted to her immediately after her first battle. In other words, this place had belonged to her for the past two years.

The cruelty of the life that prevented her from occupying it beggared belief. It meant she had gone from battle to battle, fighting so constantly that she had never come home.

It was the little facts like this that brought Theresia’s life as the Sword Saint into view. And each time that happened, Wilhelm had a thought: that he couldn’t leave her alone.

I can’t ever again let her hold a sword she doesn’t wish for.

“…Wilhelm?” Theresia was looking at him wide-eyed.

Wilhelm placed his hand on her cheek. His fingers slid over her soft skin, and his eyes were pulled to the sight of her lips drawing breath. Her pink lips and warm body—how he longed to embrace them, to play out the full force of what he felt.

“W-Wilhelm… No. Look, uh, d-dinner’s getting cold…”

“You said it would be just fine cold.”

“B-but, but! Even so, I think warm food is better, don’t you?!”

Her voice hit an unusual note as he pulled her close. He brushed the stammering girl’s red hair, taking care not to disturb the smooth luster of it as he held her.

The smell, the heartbeat of the man she adored, filled Theresia’s eyes with a burgeoning emotion; her breath grew warm—

“—! No, we can’t! Carol and Grimm are coming!”

In the end, her self-restraint won out, and she pushed herself away from Wilhelm’s chest. Blushing, she straightened her hair as she stood up, steadying her breathing.

“We can’t, not today. Let’s enjoy a nice meal, the four of us. There’s a lot to talk about… Yes! Lots of stuff! Right? Like what you’ve been doing for the last two years, that sort of thing?”

“I don’t think anything I’d have to say would make very good dinner conversation.” Wilhelm was a bit put out at receiving the cold shoulder.

“That’s not true!” Theresia responded with a vigorous shake of her head. “Two years is such a long time. So much happens, and it’s natural for feelings to change…”

“They haven’t.”

“And I’m happy to know that! But come on, two years… Hey, you know, it was such tremendous luck that you came back to the capital right on the day of the ceremony.”

“It wasn’t luck. The whole country was talking about you…”

“Oh! Yes, yes, right…”

Theresia was not very good at concealing what she was thinking, and her replies had already started to grow incoherent. Wilhelm smiled a little at her confusion, but he was also puzzled by it. It really wasn’t luck that he had been in the city for the ceremony; he had deliberately arrived in time. But it was more than just gossip that had helped ensure his arrival. In fact…

“Throughout the two years, I heard about you all the time from Roswaal.”

“…All the time?”

“Yeah. I wandered all over the country during the last two years, but that woman always managed to hunt me down and get in touch. It’s thanks to her that I was able to make it to the ceremony, so I guess I owe her some gratitude.”

As he spoke, Wilhelm saw in his mind’s eye the woman with the long, indigo hair—Roswaal J. Mathers. Each of her eyes was a different color, and she was someone Wilhelm had known from early on in the war, though he hadn’t been particularly pleased about it. Wilhelm had to be careful whenever he saw Roswaal; she always seemed to be trying to meddle in his affairs.

She had been Wilhelm’s only visitor during his prodigal years and had met with him many times; she would update him on the state of the royal army or how Theresia was doing. He would always rebuff her, but she was never discouraged.

Indeed, it was because of one of Roswaal’s reports that Wilhelm was able to reach the ceremony before it began…

“So you talked with a woman, all the time, for two years…”

“Theresia…?”

“Wilhelm, would you give me your hand for a moment?”

“—?”

At first, he wasn’t sure what she was mumbling about, but then he saw her face blossom into a smile. Wilhelm’s brow furrowed, but he gave her his hand as she asked.

Theresia gave a twist of his wrist, and suddenly Wilhelm’s world was turned upside down.

“—Hrr, agh?!”

“I’m not feeling quite well,” Theresia said, “so I’m going to my room. You, Carol, and Grimm can enjoy dinner together!”

“Wait, do you mean you’re sick or that you’re angr—?”

“Hmph!”

Theresia offered no quarter to Wilhelm, who found himself with his behind on the floor. He watched her red hair withdraw from the dining area amid a furious clicking of high heels, leaving Wilhelm to blink in total confusion.

“Wh-what the hell…?”

“What was that racket?! What’s going—? Wilhelm, did you fall down?”

Wilhelm was sitting there dumbly, still not sure what had caused Theresia’s enraged outburst, when Carol appeared, having heard the commotion. From behind her, Grimm shot Wilhelm a dubious look, then gaped when he saw the table.

“What’s happened to Lady Theresia? Don’t tell me a few rebellious demi-humans have come to get revenge for—”

“No, no, it’s nothing as ridiculous as that. I don’t know why, but she got really angry, and then she threw me… She threw me!”

“Now’s not the time for your bruised pride! It takes a lot to anger Lady Theresia. What did you do? What did you say? Why did you make her angry?! Confess!”

Carol interrogated Wilhelm, still reeling from the shock of his defeat. Carol was never the type to control her temper well, and she was never more impatient than when Theresia was involved. Grimm tried to calm her down, but she brushed him away, jabbing a finger at Wilhelm.

“Tell me exactly what happened! After I’ve heard every last word, I’ll decide whether to cut off your head, or find some other way to kill you.”

“Calm down already. All I did was talk a little bit about the last two years. How I spent them wandering all over the country, and saw Roswaal a few times, and then on the day of the ceremony—”

“Lady Mathers?! You mentioned Lady Mathers to her?! You said you met her several times?!”

“It’s not like I went out of my way to meet up with her. She would randomly find me…”

“That’s enough, you cur! I was a fool to ever trust you!”

Wilhelm was dumbstruck by this unexpected contempt. Carol didn’t even look at him as she dashed out of the dining area in the direction of Theresia’s private room.

“Lady Theresia! Lady Theresia! Steady yourself! Your Carol is here!”

She retreated noisily down the hall and disappeared from the dining area after Theresia. Wilhelm watched her go, still on the ground and still silent.

“ ”

Grimm, who hadn’t contributed anything to that point, reached out a hand to Wilhelm. The other young man took it and sighed, getting to his feet.

“…What?”

“ ”

Grimm looked silently, accusingly, at Wilhelm.

Wilhelm responded with a voice at once sharp but dispirited. “You think this is my fault?”

It’s all your fault.

The piece of paper appeared so quickly that it was possible Grimm had it ready in advance.

“Damn it.”

Wilhelm grabbed the paper and angrily tore it up. Then he balled up the shreds before turning to frown at the dinner table.

They numbered only two, and the enemy was beyond counting—but even so, they would have to challenge those dishes on that table.

“You and me are going to take care of this together…and I’m not going to listen to any objections.”

“ ”

Grimm could only shrug and sit down. Wilhelm sat across from him, and they both put their hands together in a brief gesture of thanks before they took on their shares.

Everything was still warm, and each new dish delighted Wilhelm’s tongue. Yet, he felt lonelier now than if the meal had gone cold.

7

In the end, Theresia didn’t emerge from her room, and the misunderstanding wasn’t resolved that night.

“Hmph. Not that I’m convinced this really was a misunderstanding.”

The irate remark came from Carol, who had at least shown up for breakfast. After following Theresia into her room and spending the entire night hearing what had happened, the chilly beauty was making no effort to hide her hostility toward Wilhelm. She had always been prickly toward him, but now her gaze was sharper than ever.

“ ”

“Oh, Grimm, I’m sorry. I should have been the one to make breakfast…”

Don’t worry about it.

Carol’s dangerous look softened as she read Grimm’s piece of paper.

The breakfast laid out on the table was the work of Grimm, who was wearing a thin smile. His culinary abilities were several steps below Theresia’s, but he had been in charge of provisions for Zergev Squadron, and the stuff he prepared was nothing to sneeze at. At the very least, it was far better than anything Wilhelm might have made.

I am the son of an innkeeper, after all.

Grimm appeared downright pleased with himself as Wilhelm watched him write. Then they sat down to eat—the three of them, without Theresia.

“So, what? You were in there all night, and you still didn’t get her to come out of her room?”

“That’s just how deeply Lady Theresia is hurt. And the whole reason is your attitude and your outrageous behavior. Have a little shame.”

“You can’t just go around attacking people, my thorny lady. Don’t get carried away.”

Carol and Wilhelm were at it already, before breakfast had even started.

The relationship between the two of them surrounding the absent Theresia was tremendously complicated. The one thing that was certain was that she was immensely important to both of them. That was precisely what made them so heated this morning. It only took a spark to ignite an explosion, and the breakfast table looked set to become a battlefield…

That’s enough.

A piece of paper with the same words written on both sides was shoved between them. The silent shield bearer looked at his war buddy and then his lover, then pointed at the table so the silent pair could see.

His meaning was clear enough: Let’s put it aside and eat.

Carol was quick to bend and apologize to the uncharacteristically stern-faced Grimm. “…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get so worked up. Let’s have breakfast.”

Grimm accepted his lover’s apology with a quiet smile. Then he turned once more toward Wilhelm.

“ ”

The thin line of his lips was much like the look he had given Carol, but the decisive impetus was missing. Obviously, Wilhelm wasn’t one to be intimidated, but neither could he argue about who was in the wrong here.

“…Sorry,” he said, looking away, the word virtually an exhalation. Grimm gave a satisfied half nod.

Then, bested by Grimm, Wilhelm finally set about eating.

“I haven’t tasted that for a long time,” he said, taken aback by how pleasantly familiar the flavor of the salty soup on his tongue was.

Grimm’s salty soup had been the meal of choice for their whole squadron whenever they were bivouacking or after they had returned home from an expedition. Maybe there was a rule that being the son of an innkeeper was required to make something so delicious out of whatever happened to be lying around.

Grimm’s happiness reached his eyes as he watched Wilhelm’s mouth relax into a smile of surprise at the familiar flavor. Then Grimm started scrawling on a fresh piece of paper.

I didn’t get to ask you last night—will you be coming back to the army?

The question on the proffered sheet of paper was about what Wilhelm planned to do with himself next. The vigor with which Grimm wrote, the jumpy, broad strokes of his handwriting, showed how invested he was in this question. He had probably barely been able to contain himself while waiting to ask.

There hadn’t been a quiet moment to talk the night before when the two of them had been hell-bent on eating enough food to feed four people and then some.

Wilhelm drained the last of his soup, then said to the excited Grimm, “I talked to Bordeaux about it, but no dice. He did give me a damn earful, though. Acted like he owned the place—”

“That’s because he basically does,” Carol interjected. “Considering Lord Zergev’s actions in the civil war, they’re even thinking about asking him to accept a position at headquarters. That would be unusual for a noble, though. So I’ve heard there’s an unofficial offer on the table pending his abdication of his peerage…”

“You seem to know a lot about him. Grimm’s gonna get jealous.”

Wilhelm was simultaneously mocking both the talk of Bordeaux’s promotion and Carol’s considerable knowledge of the kingdom’s internal politics. His sarcasm, though, was beached on the shores of Carol’s next words.

“You can’t be a member of a house like mine without learning something about politics. Although I don’t know what will become of any of that if Lady Theresia gives up her position as Sword Saint.”

Carol’s opinion of the position and title of Sword Saint, which Theresia held, was of course no small matter to Wilhelm.

“Wilhelm. I want to see Lady Theresia give me that quiet smile of hers again.”

“ ”

“To be blunt, I don’t care what you do or where you go—until it concerns Lady Theresia’s happiness. So kindly don’t do anything too stupid.”

Carol fixed Wilhelm with a piercing stare, her long eyelashes fluttering. The emotion evident in both her gaze and her voice was like a diamond, forged by her many days spent caring for Theresia.

That red-haired girl, beloved of the sword god, had been granted a power she never wished for. Wilhelm wasn’t the only one who continued to find her vexing. So…

“Right. I agree. That’s the only thing I’ll never let myself do.” He pulled his chin into a nod, his own feelings strong enough to rival Carol’s.

8

After the emotionally charged breakfast, Grimm and Carol left the apartments. To the very end, Carol wouldn’t stop raking Wilhelm over the coals about Theresia, while Grimm tried to keep her calm and then left him with a note that said, The army and I are waiting for you, Mr. Unemployed.

“Easy for everyone else to say,” Wilhelm muttered. He watched the two of them leave, and once he was by himself in the mansion, he felt drained.

Wilhelm had a mountain of problems; none of them were the kind he could resolve simply by swinging his sword around. And problems that couldn’t be resolved by the blade were the problems he had always been most vulnerable to.

The inescapable truth was that Wilhelm had no talent for anything but fighting. As things stood, he felt boxed in.

That girl, the person he loved, had shut herself up in her room, and he had no way to get her out.

He knocked on the door and called, “Theresia, I’m leaving breakfast on the table. Make sure you eat.” But there was no answer from the occupant of the room. Wilhelm had only wanted to let her know that he had left enough food for her. But then—

“Oh, and I’m going out now. I’ll be back by nighttime, so don’t worry… I will have dinner with you tonight.”

If he left without saying anything, left her to worry, it would mean he had learned nothing from his reflections on the past two years.

That was what motivated him to tell her. This time, from inside the room, he heard a soft rustling of cloth. He took this to mean that his attempt at communication had been received, then left the house.

Ultimately, having failed to see Theresia for half a day, Wilhelm wandered the morning streets of the capital alone.

Quite a long time had passed since Wilhelm had last walked through the royal city feeling so calm, and he was somewhat taken aback by the subtle changes he noticed. Compared to how the capital had felt two years earlier, in the midst of the Demi-human War, it was like night and day.

It wasn’t that the look of the place had changed so much. The greatest differences were the faces, the obvious feelings of the people going to and fro throughout the city. They seemed carefree, as warm and bright as the sunlight.

During the war, the kingdom had been subject to unease and anxiety. Now the shadow of those fears had faded, allowing peace and equanimity to return to the hearts of the people. A change for the better.

And it was Theresia who had brought this about during two years of labor with her sword.

“ ”

Her time as the Sword Saint must have been both painful and absurdly cruel. Wilhelm was conflicted; should the scene before him inspire pride or resentment?

“I have an appointment with the prime minister’s assistant. My name is Wilhelm Trias.”

“Ah. He’s expecting you. Right this way.”

Even as these emotions swirled in his heart, Wilhelm’s feet carried him to the very summit of the city—Lugunica’s royal castle, where he identified himself and his business to the guard at the gate.

He followed the brawny guard silently through the halls of the castle. He had been to the castle many times during his tenure in the royal army, but he had never before experienced coming here on personal business. To him, the castle felt at once familiar and deeply alien. All the more so because the last time Wilhelm had visited was to receive his knighthood…

“The prime minister’s assistant is waiting in here.”

When the guard’s words interrupted his reverie, Wilhelm found himself standing in front of a room that was his destination. He knocked on the imposing wood planks, and a voice from inside quickly answered, “Come in.”

When he entered, he found the room surprisingly spartan for the owner of such an august title: only a desk, a sofa and table to receive visitors, and several bookshelves. The way the place oozed practicality deeply reflected the personality of its inhabitant.

“Welcome, my dear Wilhelm,” Miklotov said gently. “Please have a seat.”

“Right,” Wilhelm said, sitting importantly on the sofa.

The slim bureaucrat—Miklotov—languidly seated himself across from Wilhelm. This was the man Wilhelm had come to see, the man who held the key to readmitting him into the royal army.

Or at least, that was the hope that had brought Wilhelm to attend this conversation.

“I’m afraid we weren’t much able to talk yesterday,” Miklotov said. “I must apologize for making you come all the way to the castle.”

“…No, you’re really helping me out, immediately making time for me and all. I should be thanking you.”

“Hmm. Well, well. It seems what I heard from Lord Zergev is quite true.”

The formalities concluded, Miklotov nodded with a warm smile. Wilhelm raised an eyebrow, but the man across from him waved his hand and said, “Oh, it’s nothing. I haven’t seen you for four years, not counting…one-sided meetings. When I think back to how you were then, I’m simply impressed by the change.”

“One-sided meetings…?”

“Surely there’s no need to be surprised. How many people do you think were at that ceremony marking the conclusion of the war? They all know you now.”

Miklotov chuckled gleefully; Wilhelm fell into a sullen silence. That unilateral encounter was not something he had much to say about. It was true that, however briefly, his face and name had been the talk of the entire kingdom.

In fact, the ardor of that talk had not yet cooled, though Wilhelm himself didn’t know it. He had no idea that some people, captivated by the story of his love for the Sword Saint, had tried to turn the tale into songs, ballads.

But be that as it may—

“A great many people know that you possess the martial prowess to unseat the Sword Saint. Hence, if you desire, your readmittance to the royal army may be readily achieved. You have my guarantee.”

“Is that right? That’s not what Bordeaux was telling me.”

“There is, of course, logic to what Lord Zergev says. The reality is that you forsook your knighthood and commendations, then abandoned the army to pursue personal concerns. There are still many who were disillusioned by that, who were angry.”

“ ”

“Having said that, time will heal those wounds. What matters is that your abilities with the blade can be of use to the kingdom, and that you yourself wish to return to military service.”

Miklotov put a hand to his chin, speaking methodically and logically. Wilhelm felt himself straighten up at the encouraging words of the prime minister’s assistant. There was an impassable wall between the soldiers and the bureaucrats, but nonetheless, this man’s view could not be ignored. Perhaps it really was a simple matter for him to restore one soldier.

The return of Wilhelm Trias, the Sword Devil, to the royal army, seemed within sight. But…

“Though your return to military duty may well be recognized, I doubt anyone will accept Miss Theresia’s relinquishment of her title.”

“Hng…”

The words shook Wilhelm deeply.

When he saw the young man’s reaction, Miklotov began to speak more soberly than before. “The army needs the skills of both the Sword Devil and the Sword Saint. They have absolutely no reason to let her go. I don’t believe there’s room for argument on that point, unless…?”

“But she doesn’t want it.”

“Sadly, that’s immaterial.”

Miklotov spoke coldly, his former warmth swept away in an instant. The prime minister’s assistant met the cry of the Sword Devil with emotionless eyes.

“Our dear Theresia may deny her powers, but she will not lose them. What’s more, if the kingdom calls upon her for help, she cannot turn it down. Or so I assume.”

Assume? No, Miklotov was, in fact, quite certain; he was only pretending to be less than sure. Wilhelm was speechless.

As Miklotov said, Theresia was a kind and loving woman. Even if she had no wish to wield the sword, if the time came when that was needed of her, then she would swallow her pain and do it. Wilhelm understood that. But he didn’t want to let her.

“Naturally, everything I’ve said is but speculation. But I imagine the officers of the royal army will reach similar conclusions. Yes, I strongly suspect as much.”

Miklotov dispassionately eviscerated Wilhelm’s heartfelt wish. His rejoining the military was one thing, but there was no sign that his concern involving Theresia could be resolved.

Miklotov let out a soft breath to see Wilhelm despondent. “I shall set myself to attending to your reinstatement,” he said. “On that count, you need not worry. But as for our dear Theresia… Hmm. I recommend conversation. A good deal of it.”

“Conversation?”

“One does not always easily find answers by thinking alone. If someone goes down a wrong path, there is no one to stop them. So instead of fretting over it by yourself, I suggest drawing on the expertise of others.”

Was that supposed to be advice? Wilhelm frowned.

The prime minister’s assistant winked at the young man, his easy smile back once more.

“There are things only you are capable of. Think hard about them.”

9

With Miklotov’s blessing, Wilhelm’s return to the royal army seemed virtually assured. And yet, as he made his way from the castle to the nobles’ quarter, the cloud over Wilhelm’s heart hung as low as ever.

“ ”

His head spun with the various things Miklotov had spoken about. In the end, Wilhelm had only found new problems he needed to consider, and he felt more than ever how powerless he was in the face of issues that could not be settled with the blade. It was possible he might be able to regain his old position, but the much more serious problem of Theresia remained.

“Conversation, sure…”

He had already discussed things with everyone he could think of. Grimm and Carol, of course, but Bordeaux and Miklotov, too. He had even leaned on the unspeaking Pivot, and now it seemed the only person left to speak to was Theresia herself.

Yet, if he were to try that, it was only too clear how she would respond. If the country called for her aid, she would hide her pain behind one of her fleeting smiles and do whatever was needed.

“That idiot doesn’t even realize how that makes people around her feel…!”

The Theresia of his imagination was a pathetic object of scorn, yet Wilhelm would have bet his life that he had accurately predicted how she would act. That was why Wilhelm had already played every card he possessed in asking around for advice on this matter.

He groaned as he looked up, painfully aware now how narrow his circle of friends was.

“I hate to say it, but I guess my last hope would be…Roswaal. Where is she anyway?”

He clucked his tongue at the cloudless blue sky.

Roswaal J. Mathers, a specialist in the odd and unexpected, would surely have some effective remedy for Wilhelm’s woes. However, his pride refused to let him rely on her. After all, she was the reason things had become difficult between him and Theresia. Even Wilhelm could tell that if Theresia got so much as a sniff of any further involvement with Roswaal, it could only end badly.

But, trying to both beg and choose at once, Wilhelm quickly found himself running out of options.

“Does anyone really think my brain can come up with an answer all by itself? Between everything going on with me and Theresia, my head’s already a jumble. If I could just at least boil it all down to one single problem…”

The ideal solution would address both Wilhelm’s reinstatement and the abdication of Theresia’s title at the same time. But honestly, if he could keep Theresia from ever having to use a sword again, he would even be willing to give up on any chance of rejoining the army. He wouldn’t let himself lose sight of what was truly important. On that point alone, he was now quite clear with himself.

“There’s got to be someone. Someone with half a brain who can boil this all down, someone who can think…”

Did Wilhelm know anyone in whom all these qualities conveniently came together? Suddenly, he stopped.

His mind went, for an instant, to someone almost too perfect: quick-witted, a smooth talker, and a pro at social skills.

“The guy who hoodwinked six girls at once and got thrown in the Prison Tower!”

Wilhelm turned around, narrowing his blue eyes. He saw now that beside the castle, a stone tower, the intimidating prison, had been watching him leave.

“Well, sweet of you to come looking for advice. Brings a tear to my eye, brother.”

“Don’t get smart with me. We don’t have a lot of time.”

Wilhelm felt the cold subterranean floor beneath his feet as he stared at the one on the other side of the iron bars. A chortle came from the man with the long hair and clean face—the man who had wooed six noble girls at once and was later imprisoned for the crime of loving too much—Olfe Six-Tongue.

Wilhelm went to visit the man based only on a few hours’ acquaintance in jail. Even he didn’t think very highly of this choice, but it was the one chance he had to reconsider the problem from a completely different point of view.

“Imagine, though—you’re the Sword Devil who outdid the Sword Saint! No wonder you ended up in the Prison Tower. Way to go, you big thief, you!”

Wilhelm responded to Olfe’s little joke with intimidation. “These iron bars won’t slow me down if I decide to cut you down. You that eager to move up your execution date?”

Olfe, however, showed no sign of being cowed and merely shrugged in response. Well, it certainly spoke to his boldness. This was a man who had chatted up six people at once—all nobles, no less. Not something anyone would do without confidence in the ability to talk their way out of any situation.

“Believe me, brother, I’m dying to help you write your love story, but I just don’t see what’s in it for me. I never work for free, get me?”

“When I’m readmitted to the military, I’ll get my commendations and knighthood back as well. Then I can put in a good word for you. You’ll get out of here and be a free man again that much sooner.”

“Well, count me in, then! I’ll help you; don’t you worry. Tell me anything.”

“You’re prone to quick changes of heart, aren’t you…?” said Wilhelm, dumbfounded by the sudden shift in Olfe’s attitude, even considering the circumstances. He glossed over most of the minor details, of course, but Olfe was a skilled listener, and aided by the questions he asked Wilhelm, he soon had a firm grasp of what was going on.

“All right, yeah, I see,” Six-Tongue said, nodding emphatically as Wilhelm concluded his talk. “That’s a mess, all right. Including your surprisingly large number of personal shortcomings.”

“I swear I’ll cut you to ribbons.”

Wilhelm had intended to strike a bit of fear into Olfe, but the man gave a great clap of his hands. “The way you want to do everything with your sword—that’s it!”

Wilhelm blinked at his pronouncement. Olfe drew up to the bars of his cell.

“You said it yourself, right? The sword is what you’re good at, and you’re not good at anything but the sword. Solving a problem that you can’t slice up is tough for you.”

“That’s exactly the issue. This is one of those problems…”

“Aw, that’s where you’re wrong, brother. Forcing yourself to confront your weaknesses for the sake of what matters to you is real manly, but it’s not smart. Use your head—and your tongue—and push forward logically. Feel me?” Olfe laughed and said, “You’re coming at it the wrong way” before nodding at Wilhelm.

And then Six-Tongue gave the Sword Devil an approach to his problem that might as well have come from another dimension.

Specifically—

“If your sword’s the only thing you’ve got going for you, then change this problem into one that you can solve with your blade. That’s the only way you can come out on top, right, brother?”

And then Olfe winked at Wilhelm with a naughty little smile.

10

It was dark when Wilhelm returned to the apartments to discover a wonderful smell floating from the dining area. The warm aroma tickled his nose, calling to him. When he opened the door to the dining room, he found himself looking at the back of a red-haired woman who had just finished laying out dinner.

Her elegant shoulders, her narrow waist, the way her hips swayed from side to side—he felt he could look at her forever and never see enough.

“When you get back, you should say so,” the woman said. “You’re not a sulking child, so mind your manners.”

“I didn’t stay quiet because I was sulking.”

“Then why did you? Looking for the words to apologize?” Theresia gave a pouty little snort without even turning around.

He could hardly tell her that he’d been silent because his love for her had left him speechless. For a while longer, he let the quiet take the place of his answer, until Theresia gave a sigh of exasperation.

“Gosh, I wish you would just talk to me… And I think you know that.”

“Sorry. So what’s the story here?”

“…You were the one who said we would eat dinner together. Hmph.” With that adorable little sound, Theresia took off her apron and sat down.

This time, the amount of food on the table was more suited to two people. Wilhelm was relieved when he realized there would be no undesired visitors, but then he quailed at the thought of being alone with her for dinner.

That morning, he hadn’t been able to say anything to help them make up, but now…

“You made breakfast for me, didn’t you, Wilhelm? It was terrible… I couldn’t imagine having the same thing for dinner.”

“I’m sure I cooked it all the way through.”

“You have to do more than just burn it! The center was black as tar! I have to admit, though, the way you cut the ingredients was expert—I thought it was some kind of prank!”

Wilhelm frowned, caught off guard by Theresia’s vehemence. Yes, he had misjudged the heat somewhat, but he didn’t think the final product could have been called inedible.

Theresia looked like she could tell what he was thinking. She gestured to the seat across from her and said, “I worry how you were eating these past two years… I wonder if there’s any chance someone was cooking for you. Someone like, well, you know…”

“If you’re thinking of Roswaal, you’re wrong. Don’t make me repeat myself again and again. She found me on her own. I never welcomed her. And I only thanked her one time.”

“What for…?”

“For telling me the day of the ceremony. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to see you.” His response was flat and casual.

“O-oh. Well, I—you—heh-heh…”

Theresia blushed, then laughed weakly. Wilhelm, meanwhile, looked at the food.

The quantity of food was much less than the night before, but the variety was just as rich. Not a single dish was the same as anything that had appeared the previous night, shocking Wilhelm with the breadth of Theresia’s repertoire.

“You’ve got a lot of tricks up your sleeve,” he said.

“I’m not sure that’s a compliment,” she answered. “Hee-hee—not that I mind.”

Theresia smiled happily at Wilhelm’s awkward praise. It was the first time he had seen her really smile in almost a full day.

Wilhelm put a hand to his chest, unexpectedly relieved by that smile.

“Now let’s eat,” Theresia said. “I’m going to find out what you like—I want to know your opinion on each dish.”

“They were all delicious. That’s my opinion of last night.”

“Well, that won’t do today. I’ll be watching you, and I’m going to see which foods you enjoy. I’m not going to trust your words.”

As terrible as it was, Wilhelm preparing some food for her had apparently lit the fire of Theresia’s own desire to display her cooking ability. If that was what it took to bring them back together, then he would gladly accept her criticism of his kitchen skills.

And so dinner proceeded calmly, with Theresia examining Wilhelm’s reaction to each dish.

He had already confirmed the day before that she was quite an accomplished chef, but the singular focus on getting through all the food had made it difficult to fully appreciate the special qualities of each dish. Maybe that was why the food tonight seemed so very much more delicious.

“How is it? More satisfying than yesterday?”

“Yeah. I think it tastes better today.”

“Really? That’s great! Yesterday I focused on food from the southern part of the kingdom, but today is more northern. Maybe you like the flavors they use better.”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s just ’cause I’m eating with you?”

“Er! Ahem! N-no fair ambushing me like that…!”

It was a casual remark, but Theresia was feeling rather sensitive, and when it reached her ears, she started to choke on her water. Wilhelm smiled a little but then quickly frowned again. This was a lovely dinner they were sharing, but there were things that had to be talked about, and he couldn’t put them off forever.

Theresia noted the change in his expression. She dabbed at her mouth with her napkin and straightened.

“Theresia, there’s something I want to talk about,” Wilhelm said.

“Y-yes. Of course…”

“It’s about my readmission to the military. I talked a little with someone higher up, and I think I’ll be able to get back in. I’m sorry for causing you so much trouble and worry.”

“Oh—oh, that! Phew. I thought you were going to say you were leaving or something…”

“…No, and I definitely won’t, either. Don’t make me repeat myself again and again.”

He was realizing how insecure Theresia felt; he didn’t know how long it would take to clear away her doubts. From Wilhelm’s point of view, in his heart of hearts, there was no one he valued more than her. Although he would have hardly admitted as much even under torture. He couldn’t.

“Ah! I’m thrilled that you’ll be able to rejoin the army, of course. And I’m sure you’ll be happier working with your friends like Grimm and Master Bordeaux again.”

“My friends… I’d never thought of them that way.”

Brothers in arms, maybe. But not friends.

In any event, Theresia was glad to hear Wilhelm would get back in the military. The one remaining problem was Theresia herself…

“Theresia, there’s still something else to talk about. Something even more important.”

“Y-yes…?”

“Calm down. It’s not what you’re thinking. Tomorrow, I’m going to be out all day. I’ll probably be back around the same time as today, but…tomorrow, you absolutely must not go to the castle.”

“ ”

His emphatic tone startled Theresia. She put a finger to her lips, considering his words.

“I have to stay away from the castle? Why?”

“You just have to. Listen to me. I won’t make you regret it.”

“Why would my going to the castle or not be something for me to regret? That makes me more anxious than anything.”

The lack of explanation bothered her, but Wilhelm showed no inclination to clarify. The two glared at each other for a moment, but Theresia folded before the silent Wilhelm. She sighed and gave in: “I understand. You can’t tell me why, but I’m not to go to the castle. The whole day tomorrow—is that correct?”

“Yeah, that’s right. Please.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely… But can I ask you one thing?”

Theresia covered herself by standing up as if she were about to start clearing the table. Wilhelm looked at her, and she held up one finger.

“If I break that promise…will you hate me?”

“I’ll be very angry.”

“Oh? All right, then.”

She gave a wave of her hand and began taking dishes to the washing area. Wilhelm, watching her hips sway happily from side to side, became lost in thought. The tone of her voice just now perplexed him. Surely she didn’t intend to break her promise and come to the castle.

“Well, I told her not to come, so she probably won’t.”

Wilhelm nodded to himself, piled up the rest of the dishes, then followed after Theresia.

11

Theresia saw Wilhelm off early the next morning, and for the third day in a row, he went to the castle.

Today, however, Wilhelm seemed different from the two previous days. Or perhaps the way he’d been acting before was what had been out of character for him.

He strode boldly through the castle gate, the aura he exuded leaving no doubt in anyone’s mind that this was Wilhelm Trias, the Sword Devil, a warrior who had defeated the strongest fighter in the nation.

An armored guard was waiting for the silent Wilhelm by the gate. “Fortune favor you in battle,” he said. His visor hid his expression, but his face was tight and there was sweat on his forehead. He knew from a glance at Wilhelm. Knew just a fraction of the true power that attended the one once known as the Sword Devil, who had overcome the Sword Saint despite her prodigious achievements.

Wilhelm cut through the castle, moving steadily toward one place and one place only. A training ground rife with the odors of blood and fat jumped into his vision.

The space was surrounded by a huge wall, and several soldiers were there, full of vigor and the lust for battle. This was the place where, day after day, the knights and guards and military forces of the nation tested their combat abilities against one another and constantly sought to improve themselves.

Vitality and a love for all things related to combat were expected in such a place—and only more so when the assembly included all those considered strongest and most distinguished among the kingdom’s armed forces.

“So you’re here, y’damned jackass idiot.”

As soon as Wilhelm entered the center of the training ground, he was met with this verbal assault. The speaker had thick arms and carried a massive battle-ax…

“Bordeaux. I thought you were going to get off the battlefield now that you’ve moved up in the world.”

“Gah-ha-ha! Don’t be dumb. I’ll be out in the field for the rest of my life. They gave me a promotion—so what? It’s not like I’m going to just throw down my weapon. That’s one way you and I are the same.”

Bordeaux guffawed, staring excitedly at Wilhelm, who stood at the ready. Wilhelm shrugged at the giant, then looked over who else was standing there.

Each and every one of the people assembled were fighters trained to the hilt, not one of them meek or mild. Wilhelm recognized two faces among them.

“Even you guys are here?” he snorted. “You ought to know by now when you’re outclassed.”

In front of him stood a female knight with golden hair, and a man bearing a shield—Carol and Grimm. Holding aloft their sword and shield, respectively, they nodded in recognition of Wilhelm’s barb.

“Don’t be too proud of yourself,” Carol said. “There’s not a person here who doesn’t belong to the elite. A careless challenge on your part can only end in your humiliation.”

“I know perfectly well that everyone here is a good fighter. So what are you doing here?”

“Why, you—!”

Carol, please, calm down.

Grimm restrained his red-faced lover, who had swallowed Wilhelm’s bait hook, line, and sinker. Then he turned that sweet face of his toward Wilhelm and almost smiled.

We won’t hold back, you know.

“At least you finally learned to talk a good game.” Wilhelm laughed aloud.

In addition to the three of them, several other warriors who had distinguished themselves during the civil war could be seen. Some were his old companions from his days with Zergev Squadron, and as a whole, the group’s readiness to fight was electric, enough to make one’s hair stand on end.

“Well, it looks like we’re all here now.” Into that tense atmosphere on the training ground came an incongruously gentle voice. Wilhelm looked and saw Miklotov, seated where he could observe the entire training field. The prime minister’s assistant was wearing a deep blue robe, and he nodded deeply at the gathered fighters.

“A most impressive display,” he said. “Already there’s such a presence, and we haven’t even begun yet.”

“I’m not here to put on a show,” Wilhelm growled. “Just keep your promise.”

Miklotov winked and chuckled at Wilhelm’s arrogant tone. Then he looked over his shoulder, gave an elaborate bow, and said, “This way, sire.”

Everyone frowned at this, but an instant later, all of them kneeled as one. Yes, even Wilhelm. Why?

“Now, now, there’s no need for such obsequiousness. I’ve only come to observe the outcome.”

There was a note of laughter in the voice, which carried easily to every corner of the training ground. The speaker was a man in an elegant robe and dazzling formal clothes. He was somewhere close to his forties and well built— But such common expressions hardly fit this man.

He was, after all, the most exalted person at this training ground, or the castle, or the capital, or even the whole kingdom.

“His Majesty, Jionis Lugunica.”

“A most impressive sight, as Miklotov said. Such a gathering of braves must occur only at times of great import… This might not have been possible were it not immediately after our ceremony.”

The man looked pleased with himself. He was indeed Jionis Lugunica, current ruler of the Dragonfriend Kingdom and the one whose power had made this moment possible for Wilhelm.

Jionis looked over his kneeling subjects and, spotting Wilhelm among them, said, “Ha-ha, Trias. Your attitude now seems far more refined than when you came to speak to me yesterday.”

“…I was most impudent yesterday, sire. And more, I feel nothing but gratitude toward Your Majesty’s generosity for affording me this opportunity.”

“Well and good. What you said moved me, and I merely responded accordingly. Moreover, your fight with the Sword Saint during the ceremony was a beautiful thing to behold. That sword dance alone might have warranted giving you this chance.”

Jionis ran a hand through his golden hair, his crimson eyes flashing, and laughed as innocently as a child. This attitude, the way he carried himself, his way of thinking—all these made it hard to believe that he was, in fact, a king. But he did indeed possess the most distinguished blood in the Dragonfriend Kingdom, that of the Lugunicas. As rulers, it could not be said that their house was particularly well regarded for its statecraft. But they had personalities that all found attractive, drawing people to them. Such was he…

“I did tell you to devise some solution that headquarters would go along with,” Miklotov said from beside the king, looking for once both exasperated and shocked. “But I never imagined you would immediately resort to dragging His Majesty into this. I must admit, I’m surprised.”

When Wilhelm had combined Miklotov’s warning with Olfe’s advice, he had hit upon the idea of a great battle that would allow Theresia to be free of her title of Sword Saint. He had talked Jionis into the idea, and it was the king who had brought this convocation of warriors together to hold a trial by combat.

“Now, Trias, show me. Show me that you alone can defeat all of my kingdom’s most able warriors. If you can do that, it will demonstrate that you are even greater than the Sword Saint, that you can single-handedly overcome the entire strength of this kingdom. Prove with your blade that we need no Sword Saint!”

The conclusion Wilhelm had found was the height of absurdity. It was a solution one could only reach by following the path of the sword as far as it could possibly go. But the king, who was the only one who had received Wilhelm’s supplication on his balcony, who had seen firsthand the meeting between the Sword Saint and the Sword Devil at the ceremony, had merely laughed and told Wilhelm to leave things to him.

And now, all the most powerful fighters in the Dragonfriend Kingdom of Lugunica, who had originally assembled to celebrate the end of the civil war, were gathered for battle.

Wilhelm would defeat them all and replace need for the Sword Saint with the power of the Sword Devil. He would eliminate every last excuse for Theresia to be the Sword Saint. He would cut them down with his blade. All in order to prove that she could afford to be just another normal girl, smiling and enjoying her flowers.

“Take this, Trias!”

So shouting, Jionis tossed down a sword Miklotov had handed him. Wilhelm grabbed it as it spun through the air, pointing the tip of this sacred blade at the soldiers opposing him.

The sword was sharp, edge sparkling, and the sensation of imminent combat filled the training ground. The battlefield took shape.

“Now let the proceedings begin. With my own eyes, I shall bear witness to the love song of the Sword Devil.”

The king made his declaration from the observation seat.

Almost instantaneously, Wilhelm jumped, advancing. He closed on his enemies, ready to cut them all down.

Bordeaux and the others rushed forward to meet him, sparking a battle with no quarter asked or given.

“Rrruuuuahhhhh!!”

Wilhelm howled like an animal, and then his blade cleaved through the crowd.

12

It wasn’t as if she had planned all along to break her promise.

Theresia had done a good deal of thinking in her own way. Wilhelm was on her mind. He was often at the center of her thoughts. In fact, the more she thought about him, the more she loved him.

And the more intense those feelings got, the more concerned and even frightened she grew about what he might be doing at that castle where she couldn’t see him.

Perhaps he might leave her again. That fear constantly tormented Theresia.

“I’m sure he’s at the castle like he said…I think.”

Between their conversation the night before and their parting that morning, she was convinced. It would be much more surprising not to find him at the castle.

So maybe she could go to the castle now, just to check.

“But that’s exactly what he said not to do… Oh, but I’m so worried!”

She was already changed; now she needed only to decide whether or not to go out the door. She couldn’t bring herself to cross that line, however, and so she hadn’t left yet.

She had spent almost the last hour fretting about this. If she wasn’t careful, she could find herself wasting the entire day worrying, right up until Wilhelm came home…

“And thaaat would be less than romaaantic, wouldn’t it?”

“Wha?”

Theresia looked up, startled. Notwithstanding the fact that she had been deep in very concerned thought, it was rare for her to meet someone who could get close without her noticing.

Even more striking than that, though, was that Theresia recognized the voice.

She had heard it several days earlier, on the morning of the ceremony that had turned into her reunion with Wilhelm.

“Weeell, it’s been a few days. How haaave you been, I wonder?”

Leaning against the open doorframe and smiling was a woman with indigo hair. Each of her eyes was a different color, and she had an uncanny beauty with which Theresia was all too familiar.

At that moment, too, one of the seeds of worry in Theresia’s heart burst into full bloom.

“Are you…Miss Roswaal, then?”

“Goodness, I don’t thiiink I ever told you my name. And I doubt he’s filled you in on the details—what gave me away?”

“I just…thought it might be you. A woman’s intuition.”

“Well, well.”

The woman—Roswaal—wetted her thin lips with her tongue. Then she closed one eye; Theresia straightened up under the gaze of the still-open, golden one.

“Ahem. May I ask what business you have at my house? If you’re looking for Wilhelm, he isn’t here.”

“No need to get so riled up. He shot me down a long, long time ago. He’s completely infatuated with you. That, you need never doubt.”

“I w-wasn’t doubting it. I’m confident that I’m loved.” Theresia answered proudly, but her face darkened as she realized she may have misspoken. Roswaal said Wilhelm had shot her down. Might it not, then, be insensitive to boast of her own relationship with the man?

“Oh, you needn’t look so concerned. Those feelings are precious, and I hope you’ll aaaalways hold on to them. They may be the key to something important one day.”

“…What did you come here to say? If you’re simply here to congratulate me, I’d be happy to set out some tea and snacks.”

“You know full well that isn’t why I’m here. I… Weeeell, let’s say I’m here to butt in for the last time.”

Then Roswaal shrugged and laughed like a court jester.

“ ”

Theresia, however, spotted in her smile something lonely and fleeting. Although even she didn’t know quite what it was.

13

The training ground was ablaze with combat, the immense friction of clashing weapons scorching the air.

“—!”

Wilhelm, sliding between blows like a gust of wind, lashed out at his enemies, rendering the elites unable to fight one by one.

In all, there were forty elite soldiers arranged against the lone Sword Devil. Not a single of their number was known as anything less than a beast in combat, but when Wilhelm faced them, he felt his blood roil as an animalistic howl welled up from within him.

In a certain sense, this test was absurd. But Wilhelm had to prove his point. This was his way of convincing the kingdom, through his indomitable fighting ability, to surrender an immense power.

“Raaaughhh!!”

He flinched, barely managing to dodge a spear blow and retaliating with his sword. He kicked at a body that bent backward under the force of his strike, using the momentum to leap away; he allowed himself an instant to fill his lungs with air. The oxygen coursed through his blood, carrying energy throughout his body and reviving his limbs. He could still fight. He could keep going. It would not be long now before he would put on a fight that would make everyone forget about the Sword Saint.

“Learn to defend, dumbass!” his former commander ordered him.

“ ”

Wilhelm was practically crawling on the ground as Bordeaux took aim at him with a sweep of his ax. Wilhelm could feel it slice through the air as he spun along with the weapon.

He felt a shock of pain as it grazed him. But the same moment offered him an opening. Bordeaux’s great swing left his body exposed, and Wilhelm drove his sword directly at him. But—

“Damn you, Grimm!”

A huge shield inserted itself between them, repelling his blow, and Wilhelm cursed his old comrade’s defense.

The other combatants were resisting Wilhelm with all their might, for this was what he had wished for. They couldn’t hold back, precisely because they knew Theresia’s heart and understood how Wilhelm felt. That was what had brought them together here in this display of resolution.

“ ”

Thoughts ran like electricity; hands and feet moved in deeply familiar patterns. In the space of a blink, Wilhelm’s sword lashed out at Grimm three times. Two of them Grimm intercepted with his shield, but he was too late for the third, and with a grunt he sank to the ground.

One more. Just one more.

“ ”

Wilhelm’s attention shifted away from the collapsed Grimm as he adjusted his grip on his sword and faced down Bordeaux.

Out of forty handpicked fighters, only the Mad Dog, Bordeaux Zergev, was left.

“Trias…!”

Carol held her arm and gritted her teeth as she watched this final showdown. Her long sword was broken, and Wilhelm was no longer so much as looking at her. Around her was a crowd of other warriors who had been similarly bested, all of them waiting anxiously for the denouement.

They had all been defeated by the Sword Devil: by his fearsome skills, his swordsmanship, and the fury of his passion.

She hated it. From the bottom of her heart, it pained her.

Or…it should have. Yet, Carol realized that what she felt was relief and even joy.

“So it is you, after all…”

The one who could make Theresia smile. The one who could grant her wish.

The one who could be stronger for Theresia than anyone else—was Wilhelm alone.

Though it was hard for her to admit, it made her impossibly happy, and that was a source of pain as well.

“Here we go, Wilhelm.”

“I’m coming for you, Bordeaux.”

The preliminary exchange was brief, the trading of thrusts and parries briefer; in less than an instant later, it was over.

With an earsplitting shout, Bordeaux stepped in, swinging his ax overhead before bringing it down. The blow was hard enough to split the earth, but the Sword Devil dodged it and stopped Bordeaux from moving further.

With no way to counterattack, Bordeaux laughed uproariously. There was a silver flash.

The sound of the impact echoed around the training field, the giant flung back easily by the blow.

He flew through the air, throwing up dust as he crashed to the ground. When he finally stopped tumbling, his limbs akimbo, he put his palm to his face. And then—

“Ahhh, dammit! I can’t believe I lost! I lost to a dumbass! Ahh, of all the…!”

The very last of the warriors gathered at the castle conceded his defeat to the Sword Devil.

The Sword Devil, who had magnificently demonstrated his ability with the blade.

14

Wilhelm looked over the fallen fighters: Grimm kneeling immobile, Bordeaux spread out and laughing madly, Carol frowning intensely. Then at last, he let out a long sigh.

His ragged breath tasted like blood in his mouth, and although he was sure no one had landed a solid hit on him, his whole body ached. The burden of this battle had gone beyond the usual; the Sword Devil had given his all for this fight. Now he looked to the observer’s seat.

He raised his sword as if offering this victory to Jionis.

“Mm! Stunning, Trias! Your sword work and your passion alike are certainly… Hmm?”

As Jionis observed the scene before him, seemingly all but out of words, his face twisted. Wilhelm frowned at this and followed the king’s gaze behind him.

There, he found someone he did not expect, someone who should not have been there. Wilhelm looked at the newcomer in wonderment, then groaned aloud.

“What…? What have you been doing, Wilhelm?”

At the entryway to the training ground stood a girl with red hair—Theresia van Astrea. Her sky-blue eyes took in the carnage before her; the sight of the toppled warriors seemed to trouble her. She didn’t know what had happened, but it was obvious that it had been something far from ordinary.

“Astrea, presently the Sword Saint. That man there came directly to me requesting that you be released from the royal military. He said that he would use his blade to take away the place of the Sword Saint.”

“Your Majesty Jionis…! Wilhelm, is that true?”

Jionis had explained the situation in lieu of the speechless Wilhelm. Theresia was surprised to see the king there, but her attention soon returned to Wilhelm.

He had wanted this to remain secret so that she wouldn’t feel burdened by it. But here they were.

“Yeah. It’s true.” Wilhelm nodded.

“So that’s why everyone here is— Even Carol!” Theresia said when she spotted her attendant among the fighters.

Carol hung her head as if she had been caught doing something wrong. The others, too, watched the conversation between the Sword Saint and the Sword Devil uncomfortably, from as much distance as they could manage.

Wilhelm, unable to predict what Theresia would do next, didn’t move a muscle.

Would she be angry? Try to hit him? At the very least, he didn’t expect her to be overjoyed. He knew her too well think she would be happy that this was all being handled without her.

Anger, then, he figured. But his prediction was only half-right. Theresia was angry. But…

“Your Majesty, why did you ever permit something so ridiculous?” Theresia demanded, her hands on her hips.

“What?”

The object of her anger was not Wilhelm, who had taken these actions without consulting her, nor with Carol, who had abetted him, but with Jionis, seated in the observer’s position.

Her question could well have been construed as lèse-majesté, but so far from being upset, Jionis returned a wan smile at Theresia’s threatening look and ran a hand through his golden hair.

“Well, er, I assure you, I thought it was silly myself. But that husband of yours was so serious about it, I found I couldn’t quite tell him no…”

“Y-Your Majesty! He’s not my husband yet! The way you— Really, I— Argh!”

“Theresia…?” Wilhelm broke into the bizarre conversation, calling to the red-faced woman.

“Uh! Yes!” she responded in a pinched tone, almost falling over herself as she turned around. Her face had achieved an entirely new level of redness. “Y-you don’t understand. This is partly my fault for not properly communicating His Majesty’s honorable decision, but His Majesty is partly to blame, too…”

“Start from the beginning. Slowly.”

“Um, er, you see? Wilhelm, I’m, er, I’m elated that you wanted to free me from being the Sword Saint. I am. But…that problem was already figured out.” Theresia linked her fingers together as she dropped this bombshell.

Wilhelm looked at her in complete bewilderment, and all present who weren’t aware of the state of affairs similarly raised sounds of surprise, if they weren’t too stunned to say anything at all.

Theresia smiled at all of them. Wilhelm, still speechless, came up to her.

“Er, uh, um, W-Wilhelm…dear?”

“Details.”

“…The truth is, it came up when I spoke to His Majesty after the ceremony. H-he heard what you and I said to each other, and so…”

“The civil war was over,” Jionis broke in. “The Sword Saint had more than done her part for this nation. So how could we do something so base as to pull apart a man and woman in love?” The king nodded repeatedly. Wilhelm noticed that the only person who didn’t look remotely surprised was Miklotov, standing behind Jionis. He was almost certainly the only other person who had known all along.

To Wilhelm’s glare of protest, Miklotov offered only a look of innocence. “I did tell you,” the slim man said, “to be sure to have a few conversations.”

Hearing that, Wilhelm truly felt the strength drain out of him, crushed by the sense that he had brought all this on himself.

“Oh, Wil— Eek!” Theresia moved to support Wilhelm as he slumped down but found herself falling with him, down into his chest, until the two of them were both sitting on the ground. Theresia was dazed to feel great, strong arms around her.

“Urgh, you stink again… Wilhelm, you always smell this way.”

“And you always smell like flowers. I even noticed it during the ceremony.”

“I’ve always been your flower girl.” Theresia smiled sweetly and cuddled deeper into Wilhelm’s arms. It briefly crossed his mind to simply hold her like this forever.

“Ahh, young love is a sight to behold, but you’re not forgetting something, are you, Astrea?”

“Er, uh n-no, sire! I mean, what, sire?” Theresia suddenly remembered they had an audience and jumped to her feet. She tried to make herself as presentable as possible, but Jionis simply smiled and waved his hand.

“The condition I set for your release from the role of Sword Saint. Do you recall?”

“Oh, er…” Theresia sounded as if the king had hit a particularly vulnerable spot.

Wilhelm, following Theresia’s example, climbed slowly to his feet.

“What is it?” he asked. “What impossible task did he set you?”

“Er, well, it’s…”

“If it’s too hard for you, I’ll do it. You can trust me with that much.”

“Really?! Oh, but wait. One person can’t do it—we need two.”

Theresia was rather inarticulate, blushing as she sputtered a series of ers and ums. The entire scene startled those around her as they witnessed a side of the Sword Saint none of them had seen before. It was understandable, since they had only ever thought of her as an indefatigable fighter. Wilhelm himself felt a certain annoyance at sharing this dear side of Theresia with the rest of the world.

Hence, he finally grabbed her by the shoulders. “Out with it! What is it!”

“—! H-His Majesty said that as long as I’m sure to become your wife, I can quit being the Sword Saint!” Theresia finally exclaimed, blushing and almost tearful.

“ ”

Wilhelm stood speechless as what she had said reached his eardrums, then made it to his brain, and finally worked its way into his understanding.

Theresia watched him with anxious eyes.

“What does that…?”

“I believe His Majesty’s thinking is this,” Miklotov said from beside the observer’s place. “It would be perfectly awful to force a woman who’s going to be a good wife and mother to wield a sword she doesn’t want.”

Wilhelm finally let out a breath. Theresia shook her head. “I kept meaning to tell you at the house, but…there just wasn’t a chance.”

“Because we were arguing. But even so, I can’t believe…”

It never would have occurred to him that Theresia might be released from military service on the condition that she get married.

The Lugunican royal family was renowned for being a bit soft on their people, but Wilhelm had never realized just how soft.

“Ahem! A fine solution, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. Profoundly wise.”

Wilhelm glared at the self-satisfied king and the fawning prime minister’s assistant, then turned to Theresia. Her eyes were damp, and she didn’t speak a word as she waited to hear what he would say.

She was afraid he might refuse her or push her away. How silly.

“Wilhelm Astrea,” he murmured.

“Huh…?” Theresia was taken aback.

“The Trias house is gone. Astrea will be my new family name, won’t it?” The smile on his face was thin as passing mist. But it was enough to make Theresia’s wide eyes even wider.

“So you’re…saying yes?”

“What, you thought I would say no? What’s wrong with you?”

“I mean! It’s so sudden to talk about marriage, and…!”

“There is no one besides you. A bit later or a little sooner, it doesn’t matter.”

Theresia’s mouth hung open at this blunt response, and a moment after, huge tears cascaded down her cheeks. Startled, Wilhelm drew Theresia into his chest, wet face and all.

“So you’ll…you’ll make me your bride?”

“Flower girl, bride—it’s hardly any different. Don’t worry so much, dummy.”

“That’s…kind of a stretch.” Theresia laughed, her red eyes and nose and forehead still pressed into him.

Wilhelm, though, was surprised to realize as he looked at her that it didn’t seem like such a stretch at all. She had owned him from the moment he had first met her. He couldn’t even picture taking anyone else in marriage.

“…Wilhelm van Astrea.”

“What?”

Still cradled in his arms, Theresia smiled just for him. “Your new name would be Wilhelm van Astrea. The name van was given to the lineage of Sword Saints by the person who first established it… And you are the one who took my sword from me.”

Wilhelm van Astrea.

He snorted quietly.

“That’s not bad.”

I mean, having the same surname as you.

He didn’t say that last part out loud. Instead, the Sword Devil welcomed the woman who was no longer the Sword Saint as his wife; held her to himself with all his love, tenderly stroking her shimmering red hair.

<END>