Even a Scoundrel Gets Tired

152 – Black Robes

“Lord, all are gathered.”

Behind the masked man

who seemed to be

speaking to someone,

A multitude of black robes stood ranked in perfect rows.

Conversation amongst them was

absolutely forbidden.

Their master had

prohibited all discourse.

Lest their identities be ascertained by their voices, they had

silenced themselves

entirely.

A measure that could, perhaps, be deemed cruel.

Even if someone were to

seize them later,

they would be unable to

reveal each other’s identities.

“…Very well. What is the total

number gathered?”

*Shlurr-r-rip*—

As always, their master

materialized from within.

For him, darkness was already as familiar as

his own home.

“Excluding the injured and those on assignment, all are present.”

“Then…roughly twenty-five, I presume.”

As if accustomed to

his master’s appearance,

a man in a black dog’s mask continued his report.

The Duke received

the information with leisurely ease.

“M-my lord…”

“Hmm?”

“I am well aware that it is

presumptuous of me, but…would

I dare be allowed to ask a question?”

At that moment,

the black dog’s head lifted.

As if he were tilting his head

to gaze quizzically at the moon.

He was a loyal hound, one who rarely voiced his

own opinions, so…

“Hahaha, very well. Speak your mind.”

The Duke accepted the request readily enough.

These men were, after all,

his valued subordinates.

If they held questions,

it was only right that he should offer them answers,

he thought.

“If our destination

is indeed that place…”

“….”

“What purpose do we serve in going there?”

A rare hardness

began to settle upon the Duke’s face.

He, who always maintained such a controlled facade.

He recalled the voice from

just moments before.

‘By imperial decree, I command you, Charlotte.’

‘As you command, Your Majesty.’

‘Along with the other Dukes,

you will bring Duke Reinhardt to me.’

‘…And if he resists, what then?’

‘Short of killing him,

I care not.’

To bring him alive, somehow,

without killing him.

Could such a thing truly be possible?

Of course, even if his personality

was said to be remarkably twisted,

he was, undeniably, one of the few individuals

who had seized control of a Dukedom

through sheer personal power,

a Swordmaster, exceptionally rare within the Empire.

To entrust such a task to

someone so ordinary,

barely clinging to the position

of head of a Dukedom…

‘His Majesty is terribly inconsiderate, isn’t he.’

Well, perhaps he should at least be satisfied that

he wasn’t going alone.

With those two along,

subjugation might yet be

“It might just be possible, you see.”

The path ahead felt utterly blocked,

and I exhaled a heavy sigh.

The man wearing the black dog mask

flinching in response.

Perhaps my question

had irritated him, deeply

rattled his composure.

That’s likely what he’s thinking.

“If my question has, in any way,

offended you, I beg you─”

“No, it’s not that.”

“…?”

“I was simply…curious, you understand?

For his entire life, he’d commanded

those who never questioned orders, the hounds.

And he, the “Black Dog,”

controlled them all.

In other words, he was the one

who obeyed my every command most faithfully…

“I wondered why you, who have always been so compliant, would suddenly have questions now.”

“To calculate the risk

of this mission, sir.”

An immediate answer.

Not a single moment’s

hesitation in his reply.

His response returned

with such rapidity,

it felt as though he were reciting something long rehearsed.

“Haha…the risk, you say.”

And what risk, at that.

Were excuses so scarce?

I’d told him quite plainly,

after all, of the destination

towards which we were headed.

“If you have the strength,

you’d do well to think of swinging that blade one more time.”

Or you might very well die.

Beeep-beeep-

The crystal orb chimed.

An ice-cold

hue emanated from the crystal orb.

That meant Lunuiel’s preparations

were also complete, wouldn’t it.

And on its heels followed

the final signal.

Doo-doo─

The sound reverberating from the golden orb.

A signal.

Iris’s signal.

“Depart.”

“Yes.”

Destination: Reinhardt.

The place where once every knight’s

idol resided.

*

The white temple.

A place to venerate God, the Order.

“Holy Maiden, please gather your strength…”

“Holy Maiden, if you take this, strength will surge through you!!”

“Oh…Holy Maiden, you seem

much more gaunt than before…”

Today, more than ever, the place

is unusually clamorous.

A place that was usually so solemn.

“Holy Maiden, the scenery here is truly…”

“Holy Maiden, how about this…”

“Holy Maiden!!”

The single word that

resounded from their lips.

Holy Maiden.

Her words

began to diminish

from the day after

she was carried, unconscious,

to the Order.

‘Holy Maiden, it is time for your meal.’

‘….’

‘Holy Maiden?’

‘..Yes, I’ll be down shortly.’

At first, it was merely

assumed to be a passing

malaise, nothing more.

But as days bled into days, her condition grew steadily…unsettling.

A fleeting lapse in attention,

and she would be lost, staring blankly.

As if consumed by some

intense, inward concentration,

the length of her replies

dwindled with each passing hour.

Of course, she always

insisted on her well-being, repeating

the same reassurances,

though few amongst the faithful truly believed it.

They merely supposed

the Saintess loathed to cause them worry,

and so, offered a falsehood.

“Does the Saintess… perhaps

feel unwell these days…?”

“Maybe she’s been drawing

too heavily on her divine power.

Could that be it?”

“After all, she did use the Reliquary…”

Why had the Saintess’s

condition changed so abruptly?

Such speculations

swirled like dust devils within

the community of believers,

but in the end, her symptoms showed no sign of abating.

Even after casting dispel incantations,

entertaining the thought of a curse.

Even after lavishing holy power

upon her sacred body, pondering

if some ailment had befallen her flesh,

it only roused a response for the briefest moment.

Eventually, as time wore on,

she would, as if nothing had occurred,

retreat into her daze once more,

lost in that inner focus.

Naturally, the Saintess also

There must be circumstances, they said,

and some even voiced that

the Order’s actions were perhaps

too overly protective.

“Speak sense, will you?!”

“But… even the Saintess

is entitled to some private time─”

“What if there’s something

amiss with her health?

What then?!”

“Well… she *is* the Saintess, so surely she can heal herself…”

“What if it’s something

affecting her mind?

She might not be able to heal that herself!!”

The Saintess’s position

within the Order

was even more steadfast than

anyone realized.

They were all considering

the possibility of something

being wrong with her.

“If what he said

was true… then Jennison…”

The truth was, she’d just been

preoccupied with thoughts

all day, not sparing

a moment’s notice

for anyone else.

“Saintess…perhaps this will make you feel better…”

“No, surely *this* is best for her health─”

“Everyone… I truly am alright…”

“”No, Saintess!!””

‘…It’s too noisy to concentrate on my thoughts…’

And so, leaving the Saintess,

who was genuinely saying she felt fine, behind,

the two holy knights

began to compete,

debating what would be

best for the Saintess’s health.

For a fleeting moment, the Saintess

thought them bothersome, but

Presently, they all understood

they acted for their own sake,

and quietly stilled their tongues.

And then,

*Tok, tok.*

A knock sounded.

“Greetings, Holy Saint.”

“Y-You… who are you?!”

“To dare intrude upon the Order…!!”

*Tss-ring*—

The holy knights, tasked with

guarding the Saint, drew their swords,

pointing them at him. Before they advanced,

the man hurriedly raised both hands.

A gesture emblematic of no will to fight,

and for reasons unknown,

he had completely swathed

his face in a black robe.

His attire, as if suspicion itself given form,

caused all to

regard him warily.

In that instant, the Saint’s gaze

settled on a single sheet of paper

held in his hand.

“…Who are you?”

“Holy Saint, behind you—!”

“I’ve come to request

a priest be dispatched from the Order.”

To request a priest with attire

more befitting an assassin

left all those present momentarily dumbfounded.

The man, having quietly observed

their reaction,

obediently offered the

paper in his hand to them.

“What is this…?”

“His Imperial Majesty’s command.”

“…Huh?!”

“Read it, please.”

He handed it over—

A single sheet of paper, its texture undeniably luxurious.

Its contents read as follows:

The Order is to immediately dispatch,

headed by a high priest,

and accompanied by several accomplished priests,

to the location designated below.

In a certain light, the demand seemed rather

impertinent,

but the Saintess merely read the letter in silence,

betraying not even a flicker

of disapproval.

“Is this the correct designated location?”

“Yes, a place where many casualties

are quite possible.”

“….”

“..If there are any objections─”

“I accept.”

“…?”

“However, I shall accompany you.”

“S-Saintess?!”

Her sudden declaration took

both holy knights by surprise,

and they moved to dissuade her,

but her resolve

was already far too firm.

Indeed, her eyes shone with anticipation.

*

The Reinhardt family estate, at its very highest point.

There, still,

the Duke Reinhardt

wielded his sword.

Despite the clamor that had gripped the estate some time ago.

“L-Lord Duke!!”

A servant burst into

his room with a crash.

Lacking decorum,

his footsteps disrespectful.

“..What is it now?”

His voice edged

He parried the servant’s words with his voice,

prepared to chase him out then and there if the matter wasn’t truly urgent.

“M-My lord…suspicious people have invaded the manor!”

“…What?”

“M-Men in black robes…cough…!”

“Ah, you were here, were you?”

A black shadow

struck the servant

in an instant, then

that shadow reformed before him.

Into a middle-aged man

flaunting beautiful, rosy pink

eyes.

“Charlotte…just what in the world is going on here?!”

“Haha, things have come to this, it seems.”

A deeply familiar

voice, in an utterly

awkward guise.

For he was wearing a black robe, after all.