#62 Phantom Dauphin (Dauphin) (6) – To Live Strongly

“Papa, the villagers are truly too much, it seems.”

A girl with orange hair and bright, light-green eyes continued her complaints, her face a pout.

“Just yesterday, they were singing your praises as their benefactor, their hero. But as soon as rumors spread that the lord found you…uncomfortable, they immediately asked you to leave. How can they be so shameless?”

Still unable to shake off her frustration, she turned her head back several times, glaring at the village. A middle-aged man chuckled wryly, trying to soothe her.

“My sweet little one. Upset that you were chased away before you could even eat your pancakes, were you?”

“That’s not it! I simply dislike their brazenness. They showered curses on the lord for neglecting the trolls near the village, yet the moment the lord arrives and clears his throat, they all just dart about, casting furtive glances. It’s truly cowardly.”

“Dahlia.”

The middle-aged man stopped walking. He crouched down, bringing himself to eye level with the orange-haired girl, and began to speak.

“The villagers didn’t turn their backs on us because they are evil or selfish, my dear. It’s simply that their strength is so…fragile, that merely surviving each day is a struggle. Thus, they can’t help but be mindful of the gaze of others.”

The girl’s eyes reflected the image of the middle-aged man.

A plain, unassuming beard, skin rough and scarred.

The armor, repeatedly broken and repaired, was a tattered mess. It possessed none of the splendor that people typically associated with the word “knight.”

He lacked the resources to even keep a horse, trudging along on foot. Bereft of any proper retinue, he was accompanied only by his young daughter.

A knight of the people.

A knight of the weak.

A knight of the lowest rank.

No matter how grand the titles used to adorn him, no matter how much appearances might deceive, the reality was that he was a wandering soul who slept on the ground, failing to receive even proper compensation from those he saved.

That, the young girl found utterly distasteful.

She recalled the knights she had seen in other territories.

They all wore shining armor, attended by numerous retainers, and swaggered about the land atop immense steeds.

Then, the people would prostrate themselves on either side of the road as the knight passed by, bowing their heads low in servitude. Or they would force smiles, praising the greatness of the knight and the lord he served, babbling in sycophantic voices about how peaceful the territory was thanks to them.

Her papa could also do the same.

No, he could live even more lavishly than they.

Her papa was strong, possessing the skill to cleave even a troll in a single stroke. Countless nobles craved the service of a wandering knight such as him, one without a clear liege lord.

But he rejected all of their offers, stubbornly insisting on remaining a free knight.

As a result, he incurred the resentment of the nobility and found himself in an even more precarious position than before. Yet, her papa never wavered from his convictions.

There were already plenty of knights willing to pledge allegiance to them, he had said. Someone had to fight for those who had no one else.

“To protect the weak, to extend a hand to those who seek aid. That is the duty, the *romance*, of a knight.”

With an appearance that betrayed his years, yet eyes that shone with the unwavering conviction of a dreaming boy, her father spoke. The orange-haired girl puffed out her cheeks in response.

“…And yet he won’t help the daughter right beside him.”

“Cough!”

The man, who had been delivering his lines with such aplomb, suddenly began to cough, as if choking on air. Soon, beads of cold sweat dotted his brow.

He was a man bold enough to stand his ground even before a powerful archduke, but when faced with his daughter, who suffered alongside him, he became helplessly vulnerable.

“No, well, if traveling together is too hard, you could stay with your friend’s family, like we talked about before…”

“Leave my perfectly capable father and go live under someone else’s roof, always watching my step? Why, are you just tired of dragging me around now?”

“That’s not it at all. I’m so, so grateful to have you by my side, every single day.”

Though he might be an excellent knight, he knew better than anyone that he was far from an excellent father. Thus, he sheepishly gauged his spirited daughter’s reaction, the bravado he’d displayed moments ago completely vanished.

Watching her father, the girl sighed.

She didn’t dislike her father. Nor did she believe his actions were wrong.

But she couldn’t help but feel a pang of resentment towards those who refused to lend their courage alongside her father.

Even so, the girl tried to understand.

As her father had said, not everyone could live with such strength.

One shouldn’t demand reckless bravery from people already desperately struggling with their own lives.

That would surely be another form of violence, cruelly inflicted.

*

“…What a mess.”

The single word that escaped her lips: Was it a remnant of a dream, or a consequence of the previous night’s events?

Even Dahlia herself didn’t know the definitive answer, as she faced a bleak morning.

In her first confrontation with the phantom thief, Dauphin, Dahlia had suffered defeat.

She had somehow managed to protect her client’s life, but that was all.

Dauphin remained at large, she hadn’t been able to prevent him from absconding with the mansion’s jewels, and she had even ended up demolishing part of the building where the client was staying, with her own hands, no less.

Just hours ago, after the client had collapsed unconscious, she’d endured a barrage of reprimands from the company commander, cleaned up the chaotic scene, and managed to grab a few hours of sleep in the guard’s barracks.

The soldiers of the 8th squad claimed that on truly exhausting days, they didn’t even dream, just closed their eyes and opened them to find that their sleep time was over, leaving them feeling cheated. If that was true, then should she resent her own body, which could still conjure dreams even after running around all night?

‘What pointless thoughts.’

Shaking her head, Dahlia began to get ready.

She knew that as soon as she arrived at work, she would simply have to listen to the continuation of the scolding she hadn’t finished hearing yesterday, but that didn’t mean she could afford to present herself in a disheveled state. She had to set an example for the soldiers and maintain the trust of the residents.

She wasn’t particularly fond of primping herself, so aside from basic hygiene, the only time-consuming part was her hair.

Honestly, there were many times she wanted to just chop it short, but the female guards of the 8th squad would wail, “If the Captain does that, we’ll all have to get bobs too!” So she reluctantly kept it long.

Having completed all other preparations, Dahlia frowned as she finally went to don her armor.

A portion of it was badly dented, likely a consequence of the fall from the previous day.

Normally, she would entrust it to a repairman, but unfortunately, time was of the essence, and she had no spare armor on hand.

While some of the off-duty female guards who shared the barracks might have armor available, their chest sizes simply wouldn’t match, making borrowing pointless.

After a moment’s deliberation, Dahlia placed the dented section of the armor against the floor and pressed down firmly with the palm of her hand, forcibly flattening it.

At the very least, the armor’s shape had been restored to a respectable degree.

She would have to get it properly repaired someday if she valued its protective qualities, but it should suffice for the time being.

With the issue resolved, she left the barracks and headed toward the company commander’s office.

No doubt a barrage of curses would greet her the moment their eyes met.

Suppressing a sigh that threatened to escape, she knocked on the company commander’s door.

Knock, knock.

“Squad Leader Dahlia, Eighth Squad, reporting.”

-Hmph! Been waiting for you!

“……?”

Barely had she time to wonder at the strangely elated tone of voice,

before the company commander swung the door open himself to greet her.

“Welcome, welcome! The hero of our Levruk Guard!”

Dahlia blinked a few times.

For a moment, she wondered if this was some new form of sarcasm, but the commander’s face was far too bright for that.

It was difficult to believe that this was the same man who had driven her away last night with harsh words.

Seeing Dahlia’s bewildered expression, the commander seemed slightly embarrassed and cleared his throat before continuing.

“Apologies for last night. My anger toward that vile rogue, Doffin, was so great that I was perhaps… ‘slightly’ excessive in my remarks to you.”

Dahlia’s mind replayed the torrent of abuse she had endured the previous night.

She questioned whether those harsh words, which had nearly caused some of her squad members to erupt in anger, could really be described as merely ‘slightly’ excessive, but she decided to let it pass.

There was little point in arguing with a superior officer, and she, too, believed that a reprimand was warranted, given that the perpetrator had escaped.

That being said, the commander’s current demeanor was all the more puzzling.

“Now, enough standing about at the door. Come in, come in! Hey, you there! Bring us something to drink!”

The company commander even had the orderly prepare refreshments, and spoke to Dahlia in a softer tone. Dahlia, taken aback by the unprecedented treatment, asked,

“Before you arrived, the tax inspector regained consciousness. He seems to be very satisfied with the result.”

“Satisfied… you say?”

The culprit escaped, and the treasure was lost.

Could one possibly find satisfaction in this situation?

Dahlia thought not, but the Company Commander spoke with unwavering resolve.

“It’s different, entirely different. That scoundrel Dauphin merely ‘fled’. In the end, he didn’t lay a finger on the Tax Official himself, did he?”

Until now, Dauphin had breezed past every guard, every precaution, every trap, stealing treasures and seizing his targets, displaying them like trophies throughout the city.

A gesture more deadly than death itself among the upper class, who valued face and reputation above all else.

But this time, Dahlia had blocked him, limiting him to merely stealing the valuables only to return them to the victims. The Tax Official, waking from his stupor, valued this greatly.

After all, for the son of Count Sarnos, losing a portion of his wealth barely registered as a scratch.

“Word of last night’s events has already spread, and the nobles are singing your praises. Such a swift reaction suggests many were closely watching yesterday’s incident. 8th Squad Leader, you’ve salvaged the honor of our guard, that’s what I’m saying.”

Despite the Company Commander lavishing her with unusual praise, Dahlia showed little joy.

No matter how pleasant the words, last night’s confrontation remained a defeat in her mind.

Her impassive expression seemed to unsettle the Company Commander, cracking his smile slightly, but he quickly recovered.

He needed Dahlia’s strength now.

“8th Squad will continue to operate as the high society district’s specialist unit. Dauphin’s targets are all located there, so it’s only natural, one might say.”

“…That’s fine, but won’t there be objections from the other squads?”

Dahlia herself craved a rematch with Dauphin, and so another opportunity was welcome.

However, she doubted those displaced by her would diligently perform their duties in the commoner districts.

“Of course, there will be. If they couldn’t catch Dauphin, they’ll have to prove their worth in places like that. They will work ‘very, very’ hard, rest assured.”

His tone suggested he would personally butcher them if they failed even that.

Dahlia found the phrase “places like that” grating, but reasoned that if the Company Commander pressured the other squad leaders, they wouldn’t dare slack off. A good thing.

Motivation didn’t need to be virtuous or righteous.

Even if the Company Commander was merely trying to save face, if the end result was helping people and allowing ordinary citizens to live peaceful lives, then it fulfilled the guard’s duty.

“The collapse of order may bring much blood and chaos. But is it right to ignore those suffering under that order? Rather than letting pus fester for fear of spilled blood, isn’t it better to squeeze it out, even if it hurts, for the sake of the long term?”

Dauphin’s question echoed in her mind, and Dahlia was lost in thought.

If he recklessly shattered the order and dragged the nobles’ authority through the mud, would they simply surrender?

Impossible.

The nobles would lash out, becoming even more oppressive to maintain their power and influence.

People weren’t strong enough to withstand that blood and pain.

They were weak, so weak that merely surviving each day was a struggle.

So, don’t provoke them.

Do not force me to issue a challenge to a contest I cannot win.

Even if it aches, even if it’s arduous, it would be better than dying after a reckless gamble.