Chapter 13 - The Front

'A Demon infiltrated the Intelligence Bureau...'

Galahad rolled the bitter words around in his mouth.

At its simplest, a Demon had infiltrated a single safe house in the North, but...

'As if it would ever be that simple.'

Always act on the assumption that the worst has happened. Those were words of wisdom from one of Galahad's seniors. That same senior had met an unfortunate end by failing to follow his own advice.

'When did the intelligence from the North start getting tainted?'

The Demons might have had a hand in the friction between the Grand Duke and the Empire. After all, the intelligence the Empire received was produced by the Intelligence Bureau.

To trace that interference...

'I'll have to compare the Bureau's reports on the North against reality.'

If someone had been tampering with the information, there was bound to be a trail.

Galahad drummed his fingers out of habit.

"Why insist on sitting in the driver's seat, anyway? It's cramped."

"I can't smoke inside, can I?"

"Why not? You had no trouble smoking on the way here."

"Damian is in there now."

"You had no trouble smoking in the tavern, either."

"Is a tavern the same as an enclosed carriage?"

Gilberton furrowed his brows. He opened his mouth as though to say something, then shut it again.

Galahad clicked his tongue softly and tapped the ash from his cigarette. Just then, a cold wind swept across his face.

"It's fucking freezing."

Calling it a knife-edged wind didn't do it justice. This wind cut like an axe. Thank goodness he had found a coat before leaving. Otherwise, he might have used up all his mana just keeping warm.

"It is the North."

Gilberton flicked the reins. The four horses snorted fiercely, their hooves sending up showers of the thick snow beneath them.

Everything around them was white and black. The white was snow; the black was the earth beneath it.

"The ground is black?"

"Demon blood stains it black."

"Hmm. Is it related to the mana in their blood?"

"What are you talking about? Speak Imperial."

"You really are ignorant. An excellent knight."

Gilberton turned his head slightly. Galahad sank back into his thoughts.

Demons and mana. Adrianna's ability to burn mana.

Both were maddeningly fascinating.

"... What do you intend to do?"

Gilberton's question broke his train of thought.

"About what?"

"The resistance will be even worse at the front."

"Opposition is a genius's destiny."

Gilberton screwed up his eyes. Apparently, he thought it was a joke. Galahad smiled wryly.

First, once he arrived at the front, his top priority would be...

'Studying Adrianna.'

Compared to her importance, the Demons were nothing.

Right now, Adrianna mattered most.

How long had they been traveling?

An unexpected sight greeted Galahad.

"Didn't you say we were going to the front?"

"Yes. That's the front. Headquarters, to be precise."

"What part of that looks like the front? Isn't that a city?"

Countless houses stood packed together, with what looked like towers scattered among them.

It was actually larger and more populous than the Grand Duke's castle. How could anyone call that the front?

"Most of the troops are stationed at the front, so people gathered around them. And as you can see..."

Gilberton turned the reins. The horses snorted again.

"It grew."

The place was far too large to explain away with a simple ta-da, it grew.

"Isn't it dangerous to live near the front?"

"If that place falls, you'll be in danger anywhere in the North."

"Hmm." Galahad nodded. That was true. Still, could people really live by that logic?

Just then, a group of soldiers came into view. The man at the head of the group wore something unusual. His coat was made of thick hide, but it was neither wolf nor bear.

"That's a coat made from demon-beast hide."

"Demon-beast?"

"Yes. Demon-beasts are a kind of Demon. They take the form of wild beasts and lack intelligence. Their hides are thick enough to withstand even Demon attacks, so they're used for coats and armor at the front."

Armor made from demon-beast hides. That was hardly welcome news to a Mage like Galahad.

A soldier approached. Spotting Gilberton, he offered a loud salute, respect evident on his face.

"And this gentleman is...?"

The soldier turned to Galahad.

"My name is Galahad. Adrianna's future husband."

The soldier's expression changed in an instant, as though someone had just insulted his parents. He ran back and shouted something. The mood was not promising.

"Why are you loosening up your fingers?"

"Experience has taught me that one bolt of lightning works better than a hundred words."

"... Absolutely not."

Just as his fingers were starting to itch, the carriage was allowed through.

Galahad narrowed his eyes as they entered the fortress city.

Noise assaulted him from every direction. Taverns were everywhere, with men brawling outside them. Spectators stood in rings around the fights, tossing coins and placing bets. Off to one side, someone was giving chase, shouting about a pickpocket.

It seemed there was no law here. Either that, or they had killed it.

Just then, a horse snorted violently, spraying saliva onto a man by the roadside.

"What son of a bitch—!"

Gilberton casually kicked the man as he charged at them.

The man went tumbling through the half-melted snow. A moment later, he got up, brushed off his clothes, and went on his way.

"Welcome to the northern front."

Gilberton smiled as he shook the blood off his boot.

* * *

Galahad and Gilberton left Gwen, Damian, and Tom at Gilberton's house and headed for headquarters.

There were more soldiers and carriages there than usual. Even the carriages belonging to the individual battalions were present.

It was proof that the battalion commanders had gathered.

"It looks like they're holding a general council."

"A general council?"

"A meeting of the commanders. It's not time for the regular meeting, so something must have happened."

"So we're late."

Gilberton chuckled at Galahad's joke.

Galahad was stopped right at the entrance.

"No one may enter without authorization."

A shaggy soldier spoke, indicating Galahad with his eyes. His excuse was that they had no information on him.

There was no way headquarters had yet to receive a report. This was blatant obstruction. How childish. Gilberton narrowed his eyes.

It was an effective enough tactic.

The problem was that they were using it on Galahad.

As expected, he showed no sign of backing down. If he took matters into his own hands, things would undoubtedly escalate. Gilberton stepped forward first.

"This is Lord Galahad, commander of the Special Operations Unit. Will you take responsibility if he fails to attend the meeting?"

"There was no Galahad on the invitation list. In fact, I've never even heard that name."

The soldier's answer was entirely proper.

After a moment's thought, Gilberton quietly took hold of his sword hilt. Galahad stopped him.

"That's enough. You're an excellent knight. Stick to your sword. I'll do the thinking."

Galahad stepped forward.

"You don't know me? Didn't you frown when you heard my name?"

The soldier pressed his lips shut and averted his gaze.

"Hmm. Did someone higher up order you not to let a man named Galahad through?"

"No one did."

"You have no talent for lying."

Galahad tapped his cigarette. The falling ash melted tiny patches in the thick snow.

"Attend me!"

Galahad bellowed, holding something out. It was a document bearing the Grand Duke's crest. His fingers deftly concealed the words 'Reassignment Order.'

Startled by the shout, soldiers rushed over, their faces pale.

"An important meeting is in progress! Lower your voice!"

"Here is a document from His Highness the Grand Duke. Kneel, all of you, and listen."

Galahad held it out boldly. At the sight of the Grand Duke's crest, the soldier's face twitched.

"Please wait a moment. I'll report this to my superiors."

A soldier who appeared to be the senior stepped forward. His expression made it obvious that he intended only to pretend to report it.

"Is there perhaps someone inside who outranks His Highness the Grand Duke?"

"... Pardon?"

"You're barring someone who received orders directly from His Highness, so there must be someone of higher rank inside! Is His Majesty the Emperor here? Then there's no time for this!"

The mention of the Emperor made the soldier flinch. He shook his head.

"N-no! He isn't here."

"I see. Then where, exactly, do you find the nerve to obstruct a man acting on His Highness's orders?"

Galahad spoke quietly. His voice was as relaxed and calm as ever, yet it held a peculiar force.

The soldiers exchanged hurried glances. When he took a step forward, they moved aside.

Galahad strode confidently between them as though it were only natural.

"Isn't that the reassignment order for the Special Operations Unit?"

"That's what I said it was. They chose to move aside on their own."

"Ah, I see."

It was a shameless excuse, but Gilberton nodded.

"Do you know where the meeting is being held?"

"Over there."

As he led the way, Gilberton suddenly realized that the corners of his mouth had lifted.

He hastily forced them back down.

* * *

"Recently, a large number of demon-beasts came down as far as the walls. They occupied four watchtowers under the Fourth Battalion's jurisdiction. Normally, demon-beasts soon return to their own territories, but this time they remained around the towers and refused to move."

"... I'm told Galahad has arrived."

Mark, commander of the Fifth Battalion, nodded at Lumian's report.

The other commanders were receiving the news as well. Only Adrianna, the person most directly involved, remained silent.

Her subordinates must have stopped him. The First Battalion's excessive loyalty to Adrianna was famous.

Besides, she was never one to concern herself with trivial matters. Demons were the only things that interested her.

"Then why hasn't he come to the meeting room?"

"The soldiers stopped him."

"Stopped him? What the—"

Just then, he caught sight of the Sixth Battalion's commander wearing a sneer.

'That idiot is at it again...'

Disgust rose in him at the sheer stupidity. This was a man sent by the imperial family. Had they lost their minds, barring his way?

Mark scratched his cheek irritably. As he started to rise, his adjutant Lumian caught him.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"To bring him in. The imperial family sent him. And he's to be Adrianna's husband."

"Your relations with the other commanders are bad enough already. Do you intend to make outright enemies of them?"

Mark narrowed his eyes at Lumian's rebuke.

"Then you're telling me to sit here and watch them turn away someone sent by the imperial family?"

Mark pushed Lumian's hand aside and stood. Every commander's eyes turned toward him.

With a short chuckle, he headed for the door. The moment he took hold of the handle, it swung open violently.

'I didn't open it that hard.'

Then his eyes met those of the man standing on the other side.

He was a fresh-faced young man with his hair neatly swept back. His eyes had a depth beyond his years, lending him an unusual air. He could have been a young man or a middle-aged one.

Behind him stood several ashen-faced soldiers.

The man's refinement was so out of place in the North that Mark immediately knew he was Galahad.

"Thank you for opening the door. Would you mind stepping aside?"

Bewildered by the polite request, Mark moved out of the way.

"A pleasure to meet you. I'm Galahad, commander of the Special Operations Unit. My apologies for being late. There was an obstruction on the way."

The man entered and introduced himself with complete confidence.

Hostility pressed in from every direction. The commanders' faces twisted.

"A general council is in session."

The Sixth Battalion's commander spoke in a voice thick with murderous intent.

"I'm aware. Didn't I apologize for being late? Don't scold me too harshly."

Galahad's voice was utterly relaxed. He spoke down to them with remarkable ease.

"Please sit."

Just as the atmosphere threatened to turn ugly, Adrianna spoke in a flat voice.

"It's been a while, my wife."

Galahad settled naturally into the seat beside her. Adrianna merely gave a slight nod.

"... Contrary to our concerns, the demon-beasts returned to their territories. In the process, two watchtowers were destroyed and rendered unusable. This is a rather unusual occurrence and requires a detailed investigation."

The Fourth Battalion's commander continued his report.

Galahad thrust his right hand into the air, drawing everyone's attention again.

"I missed the beginning because I was late. Would you explain it again?"

The answer came from elsewhere.

"More demon-beasts than usual crossed the walls. And they didn't return to their territories immediately."

Adrianna explained calmly. For a moment, the room fell silent.

The person standing behind Adrianna grew livid, one hand resting on a sword hilt.

"It's odd that they stayed for a while before returning. Could they have set something up around the watchtowers?"

"Demon-beasts lack reason, so that's unlikely. Still, it's worth checking."

It was a plausible enough suggestion that the other commanders nodded as well.

"The Fourth Battalion has no troops to spare while we're restoring the watchtowers. We would need support to investigate."

The Fourth Battalion's commander frowned as he spoke. Demon-beasts were regarded much like wild beasts or ordinary animals. It was his roundabout way of saying he had no time to investigate them.

"None of the other battalions have men to spare, do they?"

The Sixth Battalion's commander spoke in an irritating tone, his gaze fixed on Galahad.

Sending a man who had only just arrived at the front to investigate demon-beasts was blatant provocation. The other commanders clicked their tongues softly.

Whether Galahad failed to understand his intentions or not, he nodded. If anything, he looked pleased.

"Then the Special Operations Unit will handle it. However, I haven't familiarized myself with the work yet, so I would appreciate someone accompanying us..."

Just as Mark was about to raise his hand in response...

"I'll go with you. It's on my way back."

Adrianna spoke in a flat voice.

The noisy meeting room fell so quiet that they could hear one another breathing.

* * *

A flash!

'N-no... I can't...'

As the lightning surfaced in her mind again, Gwen squeezed her eyes shut.

The broom she had been holding fell, knocking over a bucket of water.

The spill instantly turned the floor into a mess, but Gwen didn't even notice.

Her mind was fixed on one thing.

["Heaven's Judgment."]

The spell Galahad had shown her kept flickering before her eyes.

She could see it with her eyes closed. Even in her sleep, it kept returning.

Throughout the journey, she had been so distracted that she hadn't even managed to offer her juniors, Damian and Tom, encouraging words or amusing jokes.

'No. Magic is cursed. It's the curse that turned my life into this...'

Magic had dogged and tormented her all her life. If Gwen used it, even the children she cherished would surely be put in danger.

She could never use it. Not for the sake of those lovely children who depended on her.

Then why on earth...

'Why do I keep seeing it?!'

Worse, her heart pounded every time she thought of it. It beat so fast she worried it might burst.

She desperately tried to ignore it, but the harder she tried, the more it came to mind.

If this was how it was going to be, perhaps she should just...

'Use it and get it out of my system?'

Gwen shook her head at the tempting thought.

She had to resist. For her children's sake, if nothing else.

She could resist.

* * *

Tom came upstairs to fetch Gwen and stopped dead.

In truth, he had been only half serious about calling her his senior. Galahad had sounded as though he was joking when he called her that, too, and wasn't she an ordinary maid rather than a soldier in the first place?

Still, she was kind to the point of foolishness and took good care of him as her junior, so he had been following her lead without complaint.

Now that same Gwen was sweeping the floor with lightning wrapped around her body.

It was unmistakably the spell Galahad had used.

She was wrapping herself in that to clean? Why? She was a Mage?

Whatever his questions, Tom's posture straightened all on its own.

"Oh, Junior Tom! I'll clean upstairs! Go down and get some rest!"

"... Yes, ma'am! As you command!"

Tom promptly prostrated himself.

On his way down the stairs, he squeezed his eyes shut.

'They said she was a maid...'

A murderous kid, a Mage maid, the knight Gilberton, and their commander, the most mysterious of them all.

Tom seriously wondered whether he really belonged here.

Unfortunately, he had no choice.