92. Escort

“Hah, curious indeed. Ah, yes. I once struggled to wield a sword with my tail, back in the day.”

“You mentioned that was an embarrassing part of your past, didn’t you?”

The two of them, sipping at their drinks, converse.

Stories that are the past to one and the future to the other flow freely for quite some time.

The Grandmaster downs her liquor and nods, a wry smile twisting her lips.

“I didn’t wish to deny it, but to speak of it thus… I am forced to believe in this regression you speak of.”

Isaac refills her cup.

Simply unburdening himself of the secret he’d held within brought a measure of relief.

“So, the knowledge of swordsmanship you possess was accumulated during the era when I was known as the Silent Blade.”

“Indeed. You always called me, ‘the child who chases the stars.'”

“…”

The Grandmaster offers another bitter smile, tinged with a hollow amusement.

“And so, was that why you shone so beautifully bright?”

“Pardon?”

“I speak of the stars reflected in your eyes. Captivating, it was.”

“…”

To be recognized to this extent, simply for his devotion to chasing the stars…

Isaac felt a touch awkward, but a certain pride swelled within him nonetheless.

The Grandmaster had lamented his crippled legs, musing aloud about the possibilities.

Truthfully, hearing those words had sometimes sown seeds of self-doubt within him.

If his legs were whole, would he truly have been the prodigy she envisioned?

‘The feeling is…pleasant.’

To be recognized like this could not help but please him. And there was the mellowing warmth of the alcohol, too.

“I have pondered this at length,”

The Grandmaster savors the lingering taste, her gaze meeting Isaac’s.

Her expression seemed relieved, as if a tangled knot had finally unraveled.

“I had many disciples, but never spoke of my past.”

“That is correct.”

Furthermore, she had remained largely uninvolved in the wars.

Instead, there was a passivity about her, even when a blade was pressed to our throats, she accepted it with a strange calm, unlike the others.

“I suspect the me of that time must have been disappointed.”

“Disappointed… you say?”

“Disappointment toward humanity.”

For a fleeting moment, I recalled strolling through the night streets of Volten.

The Grand Master, with tears welling in his eyes, tried to restrain the onrushing humans of Volten.

[Enough.]

[It is as if…what they say is true, isn’t it.]

At the time, the situation was far too urgent to dwell on it.

But, thinking back on it now, those were words that shouldn’t have been so easily dismissed.

“Perhaps that is why he lived in seclusion. Simply taking on disciples, awaiting the day he would die.”

“……”

“That is the only reason I took on so many disciples.”

Since it was his own pronouncement, Isaac found it difficult to deny. The Grand Master had, in fact, refused to join the kingdom’s forces even at the request of Princess Clarice.

And we, in turn, had followed the Grand Master’s lead.

‘At the time, it was a perplexing choice.’

To think, such a hidden story lay behind it.

“However, this time, you have changed one thing.”

A smile, like the crescent moon, formed on his lips.

“I believe in you.”

The Grand Master subtly extended his glass, clinking it against Isaac’s.

“I will stand on the side of humanity.”

A declaration of participation in the impending war against the Transcendents.

Isaac blankly stared at the Grand Master, then smiled brightly and bowed his head.

“Thank you.”

* * *

“……”

Sharen stared blankly up at the sky.

Roughly a month had passed since the Volten incident.

She had been spending her time residing in Isaac’s mansion, located in Evergard.

There had been a number of developments.

Firstly, the offers of marriage to Isaac had ceased.

The massacre in Volten had been deemed excessive, and his notoriety had grown as a result.

It wasn’t wrong, per se, but the method of resolution, well, that was the problem.

Isaac didn’t resent this.

Anyone who hadn’t witnessed the scene of sheer madness would surely say the same.

The rumor of Baron Logan’s cruel proclivities had caused Isaac’s soaring reputation to falter somewhat.

“It’s been three months since Isaac left Hellmunt now.”

Sharen mumbled, listlessly slumped in a chair. To be frank, she was bored stiff.

She trained in swordsmanship every day, but that was just routine.

Contrary to the pronouncements of war from the Transcendents, she found herself with more free time than she’d expected.

“What if it’s all a lie?”

Those Transcendents… what if they were just imaginary creatures?

Sharen knew better, of course.

It was nonsense.

Because she herself had fought Transcendents.

“Hmm-hmm.”

Sharen hummed to herself, shaking her head from side to side.

The capital city was a delight, overflowing with bakeries and sweets. Though, admittedly, being reduced to accepting pocket money from Isaac kept her indulgences in check.

“Ah, right!”

Sharen shot up and hurried into the mansion.

In the dining room, two figures were deep in conversation over tea.

Isaac and Princess Clarice.

“The information Isaac procured was accurate. Focusing our investigation on nobles with disabled children has yielded some… curious findings.”

“Just as the Bellingwaltz Mercenaries predicted. Luring nobles with the promise of magical healing or physical enhancement.”

“Indeed. Adelaine is making thorough preparations behind the scenes.”

Sharen crept up and grabbed Isaac from behind.

The important conversation paused momentarily, but neither of them reprimanded Sharen.

“Were you bored?”

“No, it’s more that…”

She grabbed one of the untouched pastries and popped it into Isaac’s mouth.

He quickly chewed, then smiled brightly, delighted.

“Give them to me if you don’t eat them.”

Isaac glanced sidelong at Clarisse.

She popped one of the sweets into her mouth, declaring it her share, then subtly nudged the rest forward. *Take them all.*

Sharen accepted the plate of pastries and headed out.

Isaac followed her retreating back with his eyes for a moment, then returned his attention to Clarisse.

“So, in any case, Princess Adeline’s influence is steadily growing, just as Her Majesty intended?”

“Right? I only have to give her the information, and my sister just gets it done, slick as you please.”

Clarisse chuckled, pleased at how easy it made things for her.

Just then, a surprised cry echoed from the dining hall entrance, Sharen’s voice.

“Eep! Eeeep?!”

Clutching the plate of sweets, Sharen stumbled backward a step.

And following close behind Sharen into the room came a striking beauty of mature grace.

Adeline Seraphia Regardia.

The First Princess.

“Your Highness?!”

“Sister?!”

The two women, jolted, scrambled to their feet. Adeline offered a gentle smile and a greeting.

“It’s been too long, Baron Logan. I’ve been meaning to see your face.”

He started to drop to one knee, but Clarisse, preemptively, gripped Isaac’s shoulder and held him back.

“I have to come here to keep her from making a move on you, Isaac, you know?”

“Oh my? Is there anything you *won’t* say to your sister?”

Princess Adeline settled into a vacant chair.

Unintentionally, his modest manor was now graced by the presence of two princesses.

“The Volten incident was quite impressive. I had no idea you possessed such a side, Baron Logan.”

“The circumstances demanded it. Had I not, it would have been me lying dead.”

The rioters, inflamed by their drugged state, had shown no hesitation when it came to taking a life.

“I own any number of jeweled swords, glittering things, you understand. But what I really crave is a single butcher’s knife, dripping with fresh blood…”

Leaning her chin on her hand, Princess Adeline gazed at Isaac with a smoldering look.

Just as their eyes locked, a slender palm flashed between them.

“Uh uh uh! No way, sister! Isaac’s busy! He still has work he needs to do for me, you know!”

“…work he needs to do?”

Isaac scowled, fixing Clarisse with a glare. She offered a strained laugh, as if she’d misspoke.

“Ha, haha.”

“So, you came to ask for a favor? No wonder you were laying it on so thick beforehand.”

“See how she is? She never understands people’s feelings, always so calculating.”

“Ahem.”

Clarisse cleared her throat, uncomfortably.

Then, as if something had finally gotten under her skin, she snapped at Adeline, irritation lacing her tone.

“Well, why are *you* here?! I’m in the middle of a very important conversation with Isaac!”

“As am I, darling. I came here to have an important conversation with *you*.”

Adeline’s gaze settled, calm and even.

Eyes like a tranquil lake.

Possessing a certain magic that made you want to find a place within them and rest.

“I’ve come to tell you that you don’t need to sacrifice yourself.”

“……”

“Many nobles are working towards a solution, led by Baron Logan, here. Even the Kingdom’s military strength, which had been so skewed toward Helmundt, is naturally finding its balance.”

“……”

“The North is fortified, the South fierce, and the Center, ever proud. The Kingdom is ready and waiting for them to come.”

“……”

“It’s almost a pity they can’t be coaxed out.”

Princess Adeline shrugged a shoulder.

“So, Clarisse, if you reconsider–”

“Those Transcendents are so full of unknowns that it makes me uneasy.”

Clarisse’s voice trembled.

“A race unlike any other on the continent. And yet, they possess their own culture, their own history, their own traditions. Things they’ve built up over a long age, just like us.”

The unknown.

Clarisse, so inclined to gather information, make judgments, and calculate, was concerned.

The possibility that something unknown, something she couldn’t account for, could exist.

“Just as we had Arandel, they might have something else entirely.”

“Clarisse.”

“Which is why, Isaac…”

Princess Adeline called out to her, but Clarisse pretended not to hear, her gaze fixed on Isaac.

A faint smile graced her lips as she spoke carefully.

“I… My betrothal has been decided.”

“……!”

“Would you, perhaps, escort me on my journey to my husband?”