To the lords of the Virka Kingdom, the Sarnos Knights were an object of immense envy.

“Ah, if only I had a knighthood like that…or even just a single knight!”

“Damn it, I wouldn’t even ask for a common knight. If I could just poach an apprentice knight…!”

When describing the worth of a Fourth Tier knight, the phrase ‘worth a hundred men’ was often invoked.

Having even a single knight of that caliber was akin to commanding a hundred soldiers.

Of course, a knight couldn’t ‘directly’ confront and defeat a hundred men, but with hit-and-run tactics or demoralization through intimidation, that ‘worth a hundred men’ claim wasn’t entirely far-fetched.

In that respect, the Sarnos County, possessing over a hundred Fourth Tier knights, was a source of near-terror for many lords.

Imagine if the County, displeased with a certain lord, dispatched a hundred knights.

Countering that would require raising an army of ten thousand, which was impossible with standing forces numbering only a few dozen, requiring conscription of serfs and commoners.

This ‘conscription’ alone was a loss for the lord.

Labor that should be working and paying taxes within the domain had to dedicate itself to an activity that yielded no productivity.

Furthermore, the conscripted soldiers had to be fed, sheltered, and, depending on the circumstances, provided with weapons and equipment.

The vicious lordlings, desperate to save a copper, would deny soldiers even the most basic rations, forcing them to scavenge their own arms. Predictably, this resulted in a useless rabble, shortening only their own lifespans.

Aside from the actual fighting, simply raising and maintaining a force inflicted a staggering blow to one’s finances.

But the Knights, on the other hand?

The main force, the Knights Errant, numbered a hundred. Add the squires, the pages, and other support staff, and you barely scratched a few hundred.

Even if the Knights were fed better and rested more comfortably than conscripts, the difference in upkeep and supply costs was simply incomparable.

And gathering ten thousand conscripts did not, in truth, equate to a force capable of standing against the Knights.

The conscripts, fundamentally, lacked any real motivation to fight. At the slightest hint of adversity, they’d sooner surrender or flee. To prevent this, commanders and prodders were forced to repeat exhortations and orders incessantly.

Consequently, if the Knights simply carved a path through these key figures, the entire army was likely to collapse, regardless of its remaining numbers.

To prevent the Knights from penetrating so easily, one had to amass even larger numbers, leading to an even greater burden on the supply lines.

Ultimately, using ordinary soldiers to stop the Knights was catastrophically inefficient. The best approach was to cultivate your own Knights, and the Sarnos Counts were the most generous patrons of Knighthood in the entire Kingdom.

Their family boasted a unique, inherited method for cultivating magical power, along with significant monetary rewards.

Couple this with their reputation as the Kingdom’s strongest, and those with the birthright and the talent clamored to enter the Count’s service. Even those who failed to become proper Knights preferred to remain as squires, rather than swear fealty to another lord.

Lords inevitably bent their backs before the Sarnos Counts, if only to avoid the Knights’ wrath. This allowed the Counts to wield immense influence within the Kingdom.

Of course, this power did not come without its price.

The tax rate in the lands governed by the Sarnos Counts was brutal, and the wealth extracted was not reinvested in domestic affairs, but poured solely into strengthening and maintaining their military might.

Until now, this had been acceptable.

The advantages conferred by the Knights were considerable.

But now… things had changed.

“The Sarnos Knights defeated? Where? By the Redveil family, perhaps? …What? They went after a single bandit and were routed? What utter nonsense is this?”

“A significant portion of the dispatched Knights were killed or crippled. The Grand Knight himself will never wield a sword again? And this was done by the Levreuk town guard? Is this truly the intelligence you bring me? Investigate again!”

“The Knights suffered a series of embarrassing defeats against bandits, attempted to shift the blame onto others, and when that scheme was exposed, resorted to massacring the townspeople? …Why? What logic leads to that? What happened in between?”

When the news of what had transpired in Levreuk first spread, it was dismissed as mere rumour.

The stories were simply too unbelievable.

However, Levreuk was among the Kingdom’s largest cities, and there were far too many witnesses for this incident to be disregarded as simple gossip.

Soon, when it became apparent that the Knights had truly been defeated and the extent of their humiliation was revealed, people could only laugh in disbelief.

It was a level of disgrace that bordered on the astounding.

“Those… those vermin! What are you waiting for! Prepare the troops at once!!”

The Count of Sarnos, now a laughingstock throughout the Kingdom, roared and prepared to march on Levreuk, but his retainers desperately restrained him.

“No, my lord! Do not!”

“These are the ones who crushed the Knights in direct combat! Amassing new troops offers no guarantee of victory!”

“Even this time, should we fail, the damage will be unrecoverable!!”

“Fail? Now? Me, the Count Sarnos, to *fail* against a mere city?!”

The Count bellowed, his face flushed crimson. Yet, unlike usual, his vassals, who would normally shrink back in deference, did not easily heed his words.

Only then, did the Count truly understand.

*These…these b*stards are treating me like a toothless tiger!*

The Sarnos County’s strength wasn’t entirely diminished simply because the Order of Knights dispatched to Levreuk had been defeated.

Garrison troops were scattered across the land, the Count’s private soldiers remained, and even the Order of Knights, though having lost more than half its numbers, still possessed a contingent of remaining members.

He was still, when military might was tallied, one of the most powerful individuals in the kingdom.

But none of that mattered.

His Order of Knights had already fallen from grace; its reputation as the kingdom’s strongest lay shattered.

What the County had lost this time wasn’t merely military strength, but the very symbol of being the kingdom’s most powerful.

To put it bluntly, stripping away the archaic language, the analogy would be something like this:

–Who would fear a thug who had been beaten senseless by an apartment complex’s security guard?

The Sarnos County, which had reigned supreme through violence and the fear it inspired, was a house destined to collapse the moment its violence was countered.

“Enough! Prepare the troops immediately!”

Sensing this, Count Sarnos raised his voice even further.

He could not afford to retreat.

Even if it meant burning every last one of his remaining soldiers, he had to somehow annihilate those rebels of Levreuk.

If he failed to prove his strength, the future held nothing but ridicule from all around and a slide into obscurity.

At least when it came to the logic of power, the Count possessed a keen eye for the crux of the matter.

If the Count had been the sole and absolute ruler of the kingdom…

Or, at the very least, if there were no external threats to contend with, perhaps the problem could have been resolved.

Though the Count had no means to deal with Dahlia after so foolishly losing the Knight Commander, Dahlia too would have no way to protect her people from the forces the Count could muster if he truly set his mind to it.

However, he was not the absolute ruler of the kingdom, and his rival was not the sort of honorable person to ignore his enemy’s exposed weakness.

“M-My lord! The Redbell Marquisate’s movements are suspicious! They’ve suddenly begun moving their troops overtly near the county border!”

“What? What are you talking about! Under what pretext?!”

“T-They claim it is to eradicate a growing pack of monsters that moves back and forth between the counties! They’ve even requested our cooperation!”

“Nonsense! We need to request intervention from the Royal Prince immediately–“

“T-That is…the Royal Prince has instead recommended that we cooperate as well….”

“…The Redbell Marquis, it’s him, that beastly, sly old fox!!”

The Count trembled.

Not out of worry about an invasion from the Redbell family.

Such tactics were not in that shrewd man’s style.

Instead, Marquis Redbell would use every excuse imaginable to keep the Count from rashly mobilizing his forces.

By simply preventing any immediate action, the Count’s house, now bereft of charisma and a unifying force, would collapse on its own.

He knew.

He knew that insidious tactic all too well.

Knew it, yet was powerless to counteract it.

The Count, his face ashen, slumped heavily into his seat.

It was as if darkness was closing in.

*

This state of affairs within the Count’s household was, in turn, relayed to Levruk.

Those who had been bluffing with trembling legs, daring anyone to attack, unconsciously breathed sighs of relief. And even the overly anxious, finding that no great calamity had befallen them, gradually returned to their everyday lives.

Among the commoners, there were those who clamored for the heads of everyone living in the aristocratic district, but their voices found little resonance.

Dauphin’s series of transgressions had already provided some release for the citizens’ anger, and Dalia, too, had voiced her opposition to indiscriminate slaughter.

From the perspective of the city of Levruk, this was a boon.

Had the commoners run amok, beheading nobles and magnates alike, the powers of other territories would undoubtedly have devoted all their efforts to stopping them without a second thought. But as it was, there remained room for compromise.

They had only resisted because the Order of Knights had initiated the merciless act of massacre; they had no intention of overturning the kingdom itself.

Those of the upper class with more heinous crimes left Levruk alongside the remnants of the Order, while those who remained began to mingle with the commoners, albeit cautiously.

There were those who harbored discontent, and many problems still lingered, but at least the immediate crisis had passed.

Thus, Dalia was able to carve out a moment of personal time, slipping out of her lodgings briefly in the dead of night.

“…Thinking of leaving?”

“Ah, engaging in some covert investigation, perhaps?”

Dauphin shook his head, as if thoroughly defeated.

For a thief caught trying to escape through a window at night, he was remarkably cheerful.

Though, she supposed, that had always been his way.

Dalia observed Dauphin.

Below his right shoulder, only the sleeve remained, flapping in the air.

Sensing her gaze, Dauphin shrugged theatrically.

“Do not fret. To me, this is but a minor inconvenience.”

“If losing an arm is trivial, then what wouldn’t be?”

“Why, losing a head, of course? In that sense, preventing the mob’s rampage was a very good thing. The flames of revolution burn hot, but sometimes, they consume even themselves. I want to remain a phantom thief, not a revolutionary!”

“So, you leave the city in this state and plan to run? Who is going to clean up the mess?”

“A phantom thief challenges order, dismantles it. Helping to rebuild that order is… unseemly.”

She’d heard those words before.

Whether it was ‘him’ who said it, or ‘Dauphin’, was unclear… perhaps that distinction held no meaning at all.

“You should build it anew. All those things you’ve always thought about, but which reality has kept you from, forced you to merely accumulate. Now, try to realize them in the world.”

Look at this.

He wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore.

Dahlia pursed her lips.

“Did you approach me with this in mind from the start?”

“The initial meeting was chance, but I won’t deny guiding things somewhat along the way.”

“A bad man. Playing with people’s hearts is truly villainous.”

“Well, isn’t that what a phantom thief is? A kind, diligent, and upright man could never become such a thing.”

She should be angry.

Her mind understood that.

But why, Dahlia wondered, did she feel laughter welling up inside her chest?

Was she swayed by Dauphin’s unfailing cheerfulness, or was she intoxicated by the magic of the full moon hanging above?

“Indeed. You are bad, unfaithful, a man who loves chaos more than order. Truly befitting a phantom thief.”

Yet, it was because of that very fact that he could resolve the long-standing contradictions that had accumulated in this city.

He could fearlessly unearth the grudges and suffering that could never be solved under order and law.

He had done what Dahlia could not, and in the end, he had even changed Dahlia herself.

“You told me to create order. To fix what I considered unreasonable. But, I am neither perfect, nor brilliant.”

She would undoubtedly make many mistakes.

Perhaps the laws and order she changed, believing them to be right, would cause even more people to suffer.

“I’m afraid of myself. I’m afraid of the power I hold, afraid that what I believe to be right will be seen as arrogance by others. I’m afraid that I… that my father, and I myself, will become the ‘monster’ we so desperately tried to deny.”

The order that had restrained Dahlia, and at the same time, presented her with a clear path, no longer existed.

If she ever strayed down the wrong path, if someone were to point it out to her, would she be able to honestly admit it?

Or would she ignore their criticism and stubbornly insist that she was right?

“—Rest assured. If you stray down the wrong path, I will come to punish you. If you don’t, then I suppose I shall offer some words of praise.”

A declaration devoid of any wavering.

At Dauphin’s words, brimming with sincerity, Dahlia’s eyes widened for a moment… before she lowered her head.

Without the visor that usually shielded her face, concealing her expression became difficult otherwise.

I am a guard, you are a phantom thief.

You, so free, so unlike myself, who is more frustrated than anyone.

Because you were everything opposite of me, I sincerely envied you, admired you, and loved you.

I want to hold you back with force, but that is something I must not do.

If you were trapped by me and lost your freedom, surely, you would no longer be the Dauphin I loved.

Suppressing the overflowing emotions, the trembling in her voice, Dahlia lifted her head.

And, with a composed expression, met his eyes.

The phantom thief spoke.

“Then, until next time, Guard Dahlia.”

The guard replied.

“Let us meet again someday, Phantom Thief Dauphin.”