Chapter 22 - Love for a Fellow Alumnus

“What happened? I saw Galahad and Corton leaving together—”

Mark, commander of the Fifth Battalion, nodded at his adjutant Lumian’s question. Things had taken a turn he had not expected.

“Do you know why I invited Galahad?”

“Weren’t you planning to use him as a Mage to keep Corton in check? You also wanted to find out the price of mana stones.”

“Correct. Corton was growing too quickly. Something about him smelled suspicious, too. I invited Galahad to keep him in check. He hasn’t established himself here yet, so he wouldn’t be able to refuse my offer.”

Mark tapped his fingers against the table.

“Is there a problem?”

“He says they killed an intermediate-ranking Demon, sixteen mole crickets, and two Mages on the way here. Without Adrianna.”

Lumian fell silent for a moment, then narrowed her eyes.

“Couldn’t he be bluffing?”

“No. That wasn’t the look in his eyes. He wasn’t boasting. It felt as though he was simply telling me what he’d taken care of on the way. As matter-of-fact as a soldier saying, ‘Oh, a fox showed up today. Killed it.’”

The conversation paused. Mark drummed his fingers against the table.

“Isn’t it better if he’s skilled?”

“The problem is that he’s more than merely skilled. You know who’s in his unit. Sir Gilberton is the only useful one among them, and even he couldn’t handle all of that. If Galahad was the one who killed the Demon—”

“You’re jumping to conclusions.”

Mark readily nodded at Lumian’s criticism. She was right. His thoughts sometimes made wild leaps, and it was her job to rein him in.

“Corton and Galahad knew each other. Apparently they attended the same academy. Galahad was quite famous, he said... but there’s been no word of him since graduation.”

Lumian remained quiet. He wasn’t asking for an answer. He was merely talking to himself to organize his thoughts.

“No word of him after he graduated from the academy, then suddenly he’s sent here to become Adrianna’s husband. A Count’s third son? What does that mean? It means he worked somewhere connected to the imperial family.”

After one last tap, Mark’s fingers stopped dead.

“I don’t know exactly which organization Corton belongs to, but he seems well informed. If even he didn’t know Galahad’s whereabouts, that leaves two possibilities.”

“Which are?”

“He was unemployed, or he belonged to a highly secretive organization. It can’t be the former, so it must be the latter. A highly secretive organization working for the imperial family...”

Lumian swallowed as Mark broke off. He narrowed his eyes for a moment, then let out a soft breath.

“No idea.”

Lumian’s brows drew together slightly. After acting as though he’d figured something out, he had no idea after all? Unbelievable.

“I feel as though I’ve brought in a tiger to subdue a fox.”

“You’re jumping to conclusions.”

“Jumping to conclusions? It was strange from the moment the Grand Duke created a unit for a Mage sent by the Empire. Then there’s the rumor that he beat Hermun in a single blow... No, I suppose it isn’t a rumor. Add to that an intermediate-ranking Demon and sixteen demon-beasts killed on his very first mission. How is that jumping to conclusions?”

Lumian pressed her lips shut. Listed like that, his accomplishments were certainly remarkable. She was beginning to worry, too.

“Hmm. Now I’m worried I might have spoken impertinently to Galahad.”

“You probably did, considering how you usually speak, Commander.”

“You’re jumping to conclusions,” Mark replied irritably.

* * *

‘He’s rattled.’

Galahad’s lips curved upward as he watched Corton’s stiff expression.

They sat facing each other in a silent room. Books lined every wall, and there were no windows. Mana lamps placed here and there provided the light. Their distinctive, pungent odor made him feel as though he were back at the Intelligence Bureau. There was something ominous about the room.

The surrounding bookshelves were suspicious. They stood closer than the space visible between them suggested they should. What was hidden behind them?

Muttering quietly, Galahad placed a cigarette between his lips and lit it without asking permission. A rich, refreshing lemon scent wafted out. Savoring it, he waved his hand.

“Far too much dust in here.”

A breeze rose naturally, carrying the smoke from his mana cigarette throughout the room. Being mana-cigarette smoke, it did not readily dissipate. It brushed against the middles of the surrounding bookshelves. He watched closely as it scattered through the gaps.

‘Three.’

Two were hiding behind the bookshelves on the left, and one on the right.

‘So it’s at the back.’

He had entered from the front, yet no one was behind the rear bookshelf. There had to be something back there.

Galahad tapped the ash from his cigarette and considered the worst case. Two on the left, one on the right, and Corton directly ahead. This was not a good place to fight four Mages.

He loosened his hand under the pretense of tapping his thigh. Did the desk move? He gave it a discreet push, but it was fixed in place. Surely they wouldn’t use a wide-area attack in such cramped quarters.

‘Then I’ll take out the one in front first, pull him toward me for a shield, and deal with the one on the right. Then the left—’

“What are you doing?”

Corton’s question interrupted his thoughts. He still looked vaguely uneasy.

It would have been rather awkward to answer, “Planning how to put a hole through your head, use you as a shield, and kill the other three Mages,” so he offered a suitable excuse.

“... Ha. Accepting my offer on the spot. You must be desperate.”

The man sneered openly, his voice dripping with barbs. Being too compliant would only make him wary, so Galahad deliberately answered sharply.

“Desperate? I simply found it difficult to refuse a fellow alumnus’s kindness. Is this where I’ll be working, then? Smaller than I expected. I don’t see any magic-stone deposits, either. Are they behind a bookshelf?”

The man flinched slightly. The reaction lasted only an instant, but Galahad caught it.

‘Behind the rear bookshelf, then.’

“Your pathetic attempts at provocation won’t work. If you turn out to be worthless, it’ll reflect badly on me. I’m merely being cautious.”

Galahad clicked his tongue softly at the pompous reply.

‘They really have changed.’

The Black Magic Society had once feared nothing. They approached any successful Mage. Now they remained cautious even when dealing with Galahad. The bookshelf behind him was another sign. They certainly seemed more security-conscious than before.

Unfortunately for them, the man sitting before him was an idiot who had taken four whole years to graduate. In war, the greatest threat was not a capable enemy, but a stupid ally.

‘What bait should I offer?’

Galahad reviewed the cards in his hand. Something he could offer a member of the Black Magic Society...

‘Plenty of options.’

The important thing was not to let the man realize Galahad was feeding them to him. Mages tended to have too much faith in themselves. A little needling, with a touch of inferiority added...

‘Perfect.’

His calculations complete, Galahad leaned back in his chair and smiled, like a swaggering fool still clinging to his glory days.

“Surely you know my capabilities better than anyone?”

His smile was arrogant.

A sneer appeared on Corton’s face. An excellent start.

* * *

Corton had never expected Galahad to accept his offer. It hadn’t even been an offer in the first place. It had been mockery. Yet Galahad had seized it as though he’d been waiting for it.

That showed just how desperate he was. Desperate enough to snatch up a mocking offer from an academy contemporary he didn’t even remember. It was a little puzzling. How had Galahad, hailed as such a genius during his academy days, ended up like this?

“Capabilities? Did you have any?”

“I am the fiancé of Adrianna herself. The man who will succeed the Grand Duke.”

The Grand Duke’s successor? Corton couldn’t suppress his laughter. The Empire had sent Galahad to the Grand Duke expecting him to die and provide them with a pretext. He would never marry Adrianna, much less succeed the Grand Duke.

“What...? Have you even met Adrianna?”

“We even hold hands.”

Laughing at Galahad’s bluster, Corton suddenly remembered his position.

‘That’s right. He’s Adrianna’s fiancé.’

Being her fiancé at least put him in a position to get close to her. Taking him in might present an opportunity to eliminate Adrianna.

Just how much had Dawn put on her head? And this wasn’t merely about the bounty. If he eliminated Adrianna, becoming a branch chief of the Black Magic Society would be the least of his ambitions. He could aim beyond that. He could rise to join Dawn itself. They would even grant him a high position.

Corton quietly marveled at his own brilliant mind.

“Besides, I’m a commander! A commander! Commander of the Special Operations Unit!”

Galahad began bragging again, this time about his command. Corton narrowed his eyes. What was there to boast about in a unit that existed in name only, with a mere four subordinates?

‘No. A commander is still a commander, even if only in name.’

Corton had established a business relationship with Mark, commander of the Fifth Battalion, but lately he had begun to feel its limitations. Mark rarely left an opening. Under the circumstances, Galahad was exactly what he needed, even if his command was only nominal. No, that made him all the more useful. With Commander Galahad as his front while he ran things from behind the scenes, operating the magic-stone deposits would surely be easier.

And this was Galahad. Though he had been forgotten after so much time passed without word of him since graduation, academy alumni still remembered him. Whatever state he was in now, the name Galahad was exceedingly useful.

‘Thank goodness I’m clever. Some other idiot would have let this slip away!’

Corton felt a small surge of relief. Fortunately, he had figured out how to make use of Galahad. Some other fool might have failed to recognize his value and let him go.

Still, his activities since graduation troubled Corton.

“What did I do after graduating? Didn’t I answer that earlier? This and that.”

The answer was curt and offhand, but that actually reassured him. If Galahad had some ulterior motive, he wouldn’t have answered so vaguely. He would have offered an elaborate, carefully constructed story instead. Surely his activities had been too unimpressive to mention without embarrassment, so he was simply being evasive.

Besides, even if there was something suspicious about him, it hardly mattered. He was a Mage. And no Mage could help falling for the Black Magic Society.

Magic was a slow, unwieldy discipline. The higher one rose, the slower one’s progress became, until it felt like facing a wall. Black magic worshipped advancement alone, pursuing it by any means necessary. Once he tasted it, he would never be able to break free.

Normally, Corton would have had to report to his superiors and wait. But that would give someone else a chance to steal the credit. He couldn’t allow that.

“Oh, was this beyond your authority? It’s all right. Anyone might exaggerate a little when meeting a fellow alumnus after so long.”

Galahad’s arrogant attitude was also beginning to grate on him.

‘This is a winning card. Time to make my move.’

His decision made, Corton rose.

“Follow me.”

Corton approached the bookshelf behind Galahad. When he pulled out a series of books, the wall split open, revealing stairs leading underground. The stale air peculiar to underground spaces greeted them.

“Step exactly where I step. Tread anywhere else and you’ll be in serious trouble.”

Corton walked with his attention fixed on the stairs, every step cautious. At the bottom was a dead end, where a burly figure in a black hood stood waiting.

“Fire is.”

“Cold.”

After the exchange of passwords, the figure pulled a hidden lever. The wall ground apart, revealing another flight of stairs below.

They descended those stairs and came to an iron gate. Corton took out a key, inserted it into the lock, and turned it. The gate opened with a clamor. Beyond it were more stairs.

This time, two figures with their hoods pulled low stood waiting. Sharp teeth like those of wild beasts showed beneath their hoods.

“Hmm. Getting there is quite a nuisance.”

Galahad complained openly.

It was a nuisance, admittedly. The procedure was complicated enough that even Corton sometimes got confused. After a moment’s consideration, he spoke. This much was no secret. In fact, the Black Magic Society stressed it constantly.

“Back in the Empire, the Black Magic Society was thriving. There wasn’t a noble without ties to us, and we even had connections to the imperial family. Then, all of a sudden, a certain organization began attacking us. We took every precaution, but apparently they were so relentless that they simply wouldn’t let go.”

He continued as he took a mana stone from inside his coat. It was the means of opening the next door.

“A certain organization, eh?”

Galahad murmured quietly and coughed. Had he laughed? Corton glanced at him. No, it was a cough.

“Under attacks more relentless than those of starving wolves, the once-thriving Black Magic Society collapsed. We moved to the North to escape them, only to find that the land we’d fled to was a land of opportunity. Some even say we’re enjoying greater prosperity than before. You need only look at me to see the truth of that.”

Corton gestured at himself from head to toe. A staff set with an enormous mana stone, a coat made from Demon hide... His outfit had cost a tremendous sum.

“Must be expensive?” Galahad asked with a grin.

“It is. But being attacked by that organization must have been quite a shock, because the Black Magic Society invested an enormous sum in security. Our branches don’t even know one another’s locations, and each uses a different security system.”

Corton answered as he took out the next key.

At last, they reached the final door. Iron and magic circles provided three layers of security. Having raked in money from its magic-stone operations, the Black Magic Society had poured vast sums and resources into security, driven by a fear it had never overcome. This door was the culmination of those efforts.

“Oh, a security device that uses three whole mana stones! Even the interconnection of the magic circles is exquisite. I doubt even a Mage Tower has security like this. Remarkable. This isn’t merely a magical device. It’s a work of art.”

Galahad kept exclaiming in admiration as he examined every part of the door. Corton couldn’t help feeling proud.

“The higher-ups worry that organization will follow us all the way to the North. That’s why they poured money into security. So no one could get in.”

Corton tapped the words inscribed above the door: “Security Is Life.”

He was a little uneasy about having brought Galahad here without permission, but it was a risk worth taking.

“Even if that organization’s leader came here, they would never get through this door. Its creator guaranteed that no one could open it. Said it was impossible unless someone was foolish enough to open it for them—”

Corton knocked confidently on the door. Three whole mana stones had gone into this door alone.

At the sound of laughter behind him, he turned to find Galahad covering his mouth and coughing.

‘What a frivolous fellow.’

Clicking his tongue, Corton pushed the door. The layered magic door with its triple mana-stone lock, the pride of their supposedly impenetrable security—swung wide open.

“Thank you.”

Galahad’s gratitude was utterly heartfelt.