Chapter 30 - A Handshake Problem

'Hmm...'

Galahad narrowed his eyes as he opened the door to Fifth Battalion headquarters. An enormous desk stood just inside the building, with Mark, the Fifth Battalion commander, seated behind it. His adjutant Lumian looked thoroughly displeased.

'Is this a protest against being told to clear out the third floor?'

Galahad clicked his tongue and approached Mark.

"Why are you here?"

"When I considered where to move, this proved the most efficient location. I can receive reports immediately, and it's close to the front entrance."

Galahad squinted briefly at his answer. Being right by the entrance did make for the shortest route. Yes, that was true.

Except—

'Isn't it strange to find the commander right there the moment you open the door?'

Of course, this actually suited Galahad, who would be using the third floor. It meant the commander would be guarding the front entrance.

"I see."

"I've heard the report. The Fourth Company fell victim to the Demon's trickery, but thanks to Commander Galahad's ingenuity, they barely managed to regain their senses and fight the Demon."

Galahad nodded at Mark's matter-of-fact account.

"Very well. I'll submit the report as it stands. First, allow me to thank you. If not for you, Commander Galahad, we wouldn't even have recovered their bodies."

"Consider it a return favor for our alliance."

"I'll remember that."

Mark nodded and turned a page.

"Demon-beast sightings are common, but Demons have been appearing noticeably more often lately. Something has clearly gone wrong along the front."

Galahad nodded quietly.

"His Highness the Grand Duke is here, but he hardly ever intervenes anymore, so—at present, the battalions might as well be separate organizations. Their factional bull..."

Mark cleared his throat, seemingly swallowing the profanity on the tip of his tongue.

"Even if I propose an inspection of the front, they won't listen. It would be best if His Highness intervened, but that won't happen. Our next best option is—"

"Adrianna."

"Yes, precisely. As His Highness's sole heir and a hero of the front, she could say something the other commanders couldn't ignore."

"Why not ask Adrianna, then?"

Mark shook his head.

"Adrianna is a great hero, but she isn't a leader."

"Not a leader..." Galahad murmured.

"She respects all the commanders. If I asked her, she'd refuse on the grounds that each commander has authority over their own battalion."

"So you're asking me to persuade her?"

"Yes."

The firm answer made Galahad laugh.

"If she won't listen to you, why would she listen to me?"

"You're her fiancé. And—"

Mark swallowed his next words. After a moment's hesitation, he furrowed his brows as though he disliked what he was about to say.

"I have a feeling you'll manage somehow."

"Somehow, eh..."

Galahad chuckled at the watchword he hadn't heard in so long.

"Yes, 'somehow' is my specialty. But I have a condition."

"What condition?"

"Make the Special Operations Unit's headquarters look splendid."

Mark nodded. His eyes darted busily, as though he were doing the calculations.

Galahad rose, putting a cigarette between his lips.

"Do you know why I approached you at the general assembly, Commander Galahad?"

Galahad shook his head as he lit his cigarette.

"Normally, every commander is bound to their assigned battalion. Barring exceptional circumstances, we can't leave. Like it or not, that's where we'll be buried."

Mark tapped the desk sharply.

"But now there's an exception."

Mark's clear eyes fixed on Galahad. They held an intense longing for something.

"Have you finally decided to serve under me?"

Mark smiled faintly at the question.

Once Galahad had gone, Lumian glared at Mark.

"Why bend over backward for him?"

"Bend over backward?"

"He may be a commander, but he only has four people under him. All that talk about an exception..."

Mark narrowed his eyes at the foolish question.

"Do you really think soldiers who'd fallen under a Demon's control got up and helped Galahad fight it? Demons aren't that naive."

"... Then what happened?"

"According to the report, it was already over when the company commander arrived with Gilberton. That means Galahad took them down alone. A Demon and more than forty soldiers under its spell—all by himself."

Lumian's jaw dropped.

"... That's a leap. Why would he lie to downplay his own achievements?"

Mark considered the question, then shook his head.

"Just go and furnish the Special Operations Unit's headquarters. We have a fairly substantial budget thanks to the latest adjustment in mana stone prices, don't we?"

"You want me to spend all of it?"

"We need to make a good impression."

At Mark's firm tone, Lumian nodded reluctantly.

"Should I have offered to serve under him now? No, let's wait and see a little longer."

"If you're going to join him, you'd better hurry. Show up late and there won't even be scraps left!"

Lumian had shouted it as a retort, but hastily waved both hands when Mark began considering it.

"I'm joking! Joking!"

* * *

RATTLE!

"You look pleased, Sir Gilberton."

"Ah, I wanted to treat everyone properly."

Galahad clicked his tongue at Gilberton, who grinned as he held the reins. Snow sprayed violently beneath the carriage.

"There must be a finer tavern at the First Battalion."

"I have a regular place. But why are we going to the First Battalion?"

"I miss my fiancée so much I can hardly bear it."

"..."

"That expression just now was insubordination."

Gilberton snickered. The carriage jolted roughly.

"Commander Mark wants Adrianna to send an official letter to each commander about inspecting the front."

"An official letter to the other commanders? She won't do it."

"If all else fails, I can borrow her seal for a moment."

"... What? You and your jokes."

Gilberton narrowed his eyes as though trying to figure Galahad out. Galahad met his gaze.

"Absolutely not."

"I'll only use it briefly before returning it."

"That's not the issue. She'll be furious."

"Adrianna, angry? Now I'm curious."

"She's truly frightening."

"Have you seen it?"

Instead of answering, Gilberton flicked the reins. The horses gave long snorts, their breath streaming out.

"In any case, absolutely not."

"Then I'll have to ask her to send a few letters for her poor fiancé who was dragged off to the North."

"That's..."

Gilberton's eyes narrowed, then widened.

"Isn't that a bit pathetic?"

"Is it?"

"Yes. A man should be bold—sweep her off her feet!"

"You don't have a sweetheart."

"... That loose-lipped brat."

Gilberton needlessly twisted the blameless reins.

"I'm very popular."

"Then why didn't you have a sweetheart?"

"I could die any day, couldn't I?"

"Does anyone know when they'll die? That's an excuse."

Gilberton had no answer. Galahad didn't press him, merely putting a cigarette between his lips.

The closer they drew to the First Battalion, the colder it became. Every breath made his nostrils feel as though they were freezing. How did anyone live in a place like this? Galahad grumbled under his breath.

After they had traveled for some time, Gilberton pointed ahead.

"There it is."

The First Battalion's fortress stood halfway up a barren mountain. Rather than ornate, it was solid and immense, as though built for defense alone.

'How would I get through that?'

Out of habit, Galahad imagined ways to penetrate the fortress.

The inspections of the supply wagons lined up outside the gate were unusually thorough. Soldiers meticulously thrust spears into the wagons. Hiding in one seemed difficult.

Climbing the walls would be tricky too, with sharp iron spikes embedded all over them. Soldiers even stood watch on top. He could see no openings.

Stealing a soldier's uniform and identification token to get inside would also—

'Be difficult.'

They checked the soldiers entering the gate one by one as well. It was a formidable fortress to infiltrate.

Of course, that didn't mean there was no way in—

The soldiers who encountered Gilberton saluted with booming voices. They reacted as though they were seeing a celebrity.

"I am Gilberton, after all," he said with an insufferably smug look.

At the gate, a young knight saluted.

"It's been a while, Sir Gilberton."

"Vandal. It has."

"I've heard the news."

The knight's gaze turned to Galahad.

"I'm Galahad, commander of the Special Operations Unit."

"Ah, the Special Operations Unit!"

The knight gave a soft exclamation, as though he knew of them. Unaccustomed to such a reaction, Galahad asked a question of his own.

"You've heard of the Special Operations Unit?"

"Yes, I heard you killed an intermediate-ranking Demon and dozens of mole crickets. They say you're a mage who burns Demons."

The knight's eyes shone with fervor. Galahad nodded at that burning gaze.

"The Special Operations Unit's fame is spreading."

"Ah, my senior Carrot was at the scene."

"Is that so?"

"If the opportunity arises, I'd love to fight you in a duel to the death."

At this out-of-nowhere announcement of murderous intent, Galahad looked at Gilberton.

"That's how the First Battalion reacts when they meet someone strong. It's a tradition."

Galahad nodded.

"Hmm, thank you. I've come to see Adrianna. Is she inside?"

"Lady Adrianna is beyond the front."

"Beyond the front?"

It was Gilberton who answered.

"Before sunrise, Lady Adrianna crosses the front into Demon territory. She returns around sunset. It's to kill even one more Demon and find a way to end the war."

Rather than holding the line, she was actually entering Demon territory to attack them.

Even with her mana-burning attribute, that was remarkably reckless.

"Admirable."

The knight and Gilberton were staring at Galahad with peculiar expressions.

"What is it?"

"Even within the First Battalion, many oppose Lady Adrianna going into Demon territory. They say it's extremely dangerous—"

"And staying here isn't?"

Gilberton fell silent at Galahad's question. The knight wore an odd expression.

"My name is Vandal."

"Yes, Sir Vandal. A pleasure."

"Then, about our duel—"

"Let's do it when the weather's a little warmer."

Vandal followed them a little farther, asking for a specific date. Galahad waved a hand casually.

The interior of the First Battalion base was much like its exterior. Plain, sturdy buildings stood packed together, with armed soldiers hurrying between them.

"She'll be back soon," Galahad murmured, watching the sun resting on the wall.

Just then, the carriage door banged open.

"Ow! Why are you biting me? Damian! I'm not meat!"

"Commander, I think we need to feed Damian something."

Galahad chuckled at Tom's urgent report.

"We'd better drop them off at the tavern before Damian eats them. Then we'll go meet Adrianna."

Gilberton turned the reins with practiced ease.

* * *

The front lay a considerable distance beyond the First Battalion base's main gate. Security was so tight that they passed through three more checkpoints along the way.

When they reached the wall, Galahad was genuinely impressed.

It was even larger than the wall he'd seen upon first arriving in the North. It towered so high that he had to crane his neck to see the top.

"The other units border the front too. Why is this place called the foremost front line?"

"Because this is where most Demon and demon-beast attacks occur. We don't know why, but the bastards mainly target this gate. That's why it's called the Demon Pit."

"I see."

Just then, a long horn blast sounded atop the wall.

"She's coming," Gilberton said briefly.

'Adrianna.'

Men who appeared to be knights took positions around the gate, swords in hand. Blue aura suffused their blades.

Someone who looked like a company commander shouted an order. Soldiers swiveled enormous crossbows toward the gate, while several others advanced with shields.

Tension hung thick in the air.

BWOOOO!

The horn sounded again.

"Raise it!" a knight shouted.

A soldier whipped the back of an ox harnessed to a pulley. The ox moved with a drawn-out bellow. Metal scraped as the nearest portcullis rose.

BWOOO!

Another horn blast. An ox bellowed, turning the next pulley. The second portcullis rose.

BWOOO!

The horn again. Only after the third portcullis had risen did the gate itself come into view.

The black gate looked so solid that its strength was palpable at a glance.

It was unmistakably ten-thousandfold iron. To use something so expensive in such a crude fashion—Galahad marveled at the extravagance.

Deep drumbeats began to sound. Soldiers bustled about to their broad, heavy rhythm.

At last, the thick gate slowly opened.

'Demon territory, then.'

Galahad loosened his fingers and focused.

The gate opened with exasperating slowness. Iron scraped the ground with an eerie screech.

Thick smoke crept through the widening gap as though reaching out a hand. The acrid smell that followed revealed it to be ash.

Everything beyond the gate was gray. Ash, not snow, swirled through the air. The ground glimpsed between the drifting ashes was black, as though burned.

'Hell...'

The blackened, rotten earth and swirling ash naturally brought hell to Galahad's mind.

Ash flew in place of the North's goddamned snow, yet it was even more chilling.

...!

An unidentifiable scream erupted in the distance. The horrific, indescribable sound shook the earth.

Then the ash fog parted as though pushed aside. No—looking closely, the ash was simply disappearing.

Adrianna emerged through the dissipating smoke.

Her armor was slathered in dark red blood, with bizarre scraps of flesh and carapace lodged in its gaps. She looked as though she'd just been hauled out of hell.

A long path through the smoke stretched behind her. The view it revealed was quite graphic.

Neatly severed corpses of Demons and demon-beasts littered the desolate ash-covered ground. So much blood had flowed that it clotted the ash into heaps.

Corpses that looked formidable even at a glance, and the blood flowing between them...

'What a waste.'

Galahad smacked his lips without realizing it.

Even walking through hell, Adrianna wore her usual expressionless face.

Knights emerged behind her. They looked a wreck, as though they too had been to hell and back, but their presence was exceptionally keen.

These were no ordinary knights.

"They're Lady Adrianna's personal unit. Only the strongest in the First Battalion can join. You could call them the North's elite."

Gilberton explained in a subdued voice. From his expression, he seemed to have belonged to them.

"They're exceptionally loyal to Lady Adrianna. Provoke them for no reason, and there'll be trouble," Gilberton warned seriously.

"I mean it. They're dangerous men."

He emphasized it repeatedly.

"You're worrying over nothing. When have I ever caused trouble?"

Gilberton's narrow eyes widened. Just as he was about to say something—

Adrianna passed through the gate. Wild cheers erupted on all sides. Everyone chanted her name.

It was an ecstatic welcome beyond anything even the Emperor could receive, but her face remained expressionless. A trace of weariness showed through.

Then she spotted Galahad.

Her eyes widened slightly. He gave her a small wave.

Her rigid brows lifted a little.

Adrianna approached him, her steps oddly quick.

"Lady Adrianna?!"

The gazes of the knights following her sharpened. More than sharp—they were enough to make his skin sting.

"Ah."

Upon reaching Galahad, Adrianna removed her blood-encrusted gauntlet. Then she carefully wiped her hand with a brightly colored handkerchief.

Seeing her apparently preparing for a handshake, Galahad instinctively held out his hand.

At that moment, a powerful impulse surged within him.

His heart pounded violently. Pain gripped his chest as though someone had seized it. The Egg of agony urged him to kill Adrianna. It stung considerably.

'You idiot. What you're doing is actually hindering the oath. Do you think I can kill Adrianna right now?'

Galahad swore inwardly.

Even with Adrianna defenseless, there was no way he could kill her here and now.

No matter how many times he ran through it, the result was failure. This was what Galahad did best.

The Egg of agony vibrated. Galahad calculated again. When the result once more came out as failure, the Egg of agony quieted.

'It works.'

Of course, it was only a stopgap. He planned to prepare a separate solution.

'Still, holding her hand would be a little risky.'

Adrianna's attribute was important, but the Egg of agony was his means of increasing his combat strength right now.

Taking her hand might make the Egg of agony disappear for no good reason. Until he understood how it worked or devised another method, caution was best.

Having finished his calculations, Galahad withdrew his hand.

The problem was—

"...?"

He hadn't spared a thought for Adrianna's hand.

Adrianna stared quietly at her hand, left hanging all alone in midair.

Having never experienced anything like this in her life, she couldn't understand what was happening.

Why was her hand out there all by itself?

"...?"

Adrianna couldn't comprehend it.

Like something that had broken down, she froze with her hand still extended.

"Good heavens."

Gilberton buried his face in his hands.