Chapter 68 - Almost Touching

Galahad had learned something new. In Adrianna's presence, the Grand Duke softened, if only ever so slightly. With her beside him, he probably wouldn't have his head torn off.

Somewhat reassured, Galahad looked around.

Only three of them sat at a table long enough to seat twenty. Yet the Grand Duke was so enormous that it didn't feel empty.

The table was laden with food. The Grand Duke tore into his meat with his hands. It must not have been cooked at all; long streaks of red blood spattered from it. The grisly sound of tearing flesh assaulted Galahad's ears.

His table manners belonged more to a barbarian chieftain than a grand duke.

"Try some of this. It's delicious."

Adrianna served him some food. The Grand Duke's eyes sharpened. As he glared at Galahad and tore into his meat, Galahad felt an inexplicable prickling in his neck.

"I told you I'm fine. Eat your own meal."

"I've already eaten."

Despite his repeated protests, Adrianna kept piling food onto his plate.

"It tastes best if you mix it with this."

She seemed eager to teach him how people ate in the North. The sentiment was admirable, but northern cuisine consisted largely of revolting food to begin with. Fragrant herbs or not, meat so excessively juicy that it dripped blood could hardly look appetizing.

Every time Adrianna attended to Galahad, the corners of the Grand Duke's mouth rose a little higher. It was remarkable how a man could look fiercer the more he smiled.

Galahad found himself remembering the Demon whose head the Grand Duke had torn off. His neck tickled.

"Try this too."

'... Is this revenge?'

Galahad looked at Adrianna and muttered under his breath.

"What's wrong?"

"I feel as though my stomach is going to burst."

"What? From this little?"

He narrowed his eyes at her question. He had emptied his plate five times. And she called that little? Absurd.

The Grand Duke set down the meat, now stripped to the bone.

"You've been up to something amusing."

His fierce eyes fixed on Galahad.

Galahad quickly reviewed the situation. He had deliberately wagered half his winnings on his own victory. His mana exhaustion had also been real. The calculations were perfect, without a single flaw.

'There's nothing to catch me out.'

He looked up at the Grand Duke boldly and asked, "What might that be?"

The Grand Duke chuckled, and the table trembled slightly. To think his laughter alone could shake this enormous table. Galahad marveled.

"A draw, I hear."

The Grand Duke had come to the point. Adrianna answered him.

"As ordered, I have completed my investigation into the match. After analyzing the circumstantial evidence together with the magical explanation, I found no grounds for suspicion."

She pointed to the stack of documents beside the Grand Duke. Judging by its thickness, she had been busy.

Rather than the documents, the Grand Duke studied Galahad. His gaze seemed to bore straight into him.

"My questioning of a Mage yielded firm confirmation that a draw cannot be engineered. I also confirmed that Commander Galahad wagered a considerable sum on his own victory."

Adrianna continued her explanation calmly.

"I see."

The Grand Duke nodded readily enough, though he continued to stare intently at Galahad.

'He really does have a soft spot for Adrianna,' Galahad murmured to himself.

After a brief silence, the Grand Duke spoke. What he said next was quite unexpected.

"We will hold a betrothal ceremony."

The meat Adrianna had been passing over dropped from her hand.

Hmm.

Before Galahad could answer, Adrianna sprang to her feet, her brows drawn tight.

"I refuse."

With that curt refusal, she left the room.

Suddenly alone with the Grand Duke, Galahad cleared his throat. The corners of the Grand Duke's mouth were still raised.

'He did that on purpose.'

Galahad narrowed his eyes.

The Grand Duke continued in a voice like a beast's roar.

"The betrothal ceremony will take place in three months. If Adrianna refuses—"

He pointed to an empty space among the displayed Demons and demon-beasts.

"We'll have to hold a funeral instead."

Galahad gave a small cough at the grisly threat. A betrothal ceremony or a funeral. What a truly nasty joke.

Except there wasn't the slightest trace of amusement on the Grand Duke's face.

'Hmm. So it wasn't a joke.'

Galahad let out a low hum.

The Grand Duke hadn't asked for his agreement. Nor did Galahad intend to refuse.

Quite the opposite.

"Three months? Isn't that rather late?"

The corners of the Grand Duke's mouth curved up fiercely.

* * *

"I'm sorry. I was so taken aback that I—"

Galahad emerged from the Grand Duke's room, checking that his head was still properly attached, to find Adrianna a short distance away.

Upon seeing him, she bowed deeply. Her brows were lowered.

"It's all right. I was taken aback myself."

Adrianna let out a little breath at his reply.

"Oh. You were? To bring that up out of nowhere, without a word of warning... I'll speak to His Highness."

She was speaking oddly fast. Galahad nodded.

"Three whole months away. It's not even a wedding. Isn't that allowing far too much time for a betrothal ceremony?"

"... What?"

Her eyebrows twitched up and down, puzzling him.

"Why are you flustered?"

"I have no intention of holding a betrothal—"

"Who said anything about getting married? We will someday, of course, but this is merely a betrothal ceremony."

"Merely a... betrothal ceremony?"

Adrianna's brows lowered. She was beginning to look positively murderous.

"We're already officially engaged. What difference would a ceremony make?"

Her eyebrows shot up, completing the glare.

"It's different."

"How? Give me your reasons."

"... It is different. I have no intention of going as far as a ceremony."

Galahad narrowed his eyes at her firm answer.

Without a betrothal ceremony, he would be having a funeral. If he told Adrianna, she might resolve the matter for him. But he didn't particularly want to do that.

"I'll speak to him properly. You needn't worry about His Highness the Grand Duke."

There was no chance the Grand Duke would listen to her. More likely, he would accuse Galahad of having a loose tongue and tear off his head, mouth and all.

Galahad nodded.

"All right. I'm counting on you."

"Yes."

He smiled wryly at her brief reply.

"Would you join me for a walk? I'm feeling rather bloated after that meal."

"Pardon?"

"I'm a patient. I need someone to support me."

Her eyebrows twitched.

"I'll be relying on you, then."

"Ah—"

"Ugh, my mana exhaustion—"

Galahad deftly linked arms with her. Adrianna's eyebrows quivered, but she did not pull her arm away.

The Grand Duke's castle was not a pleasant place for a stroll. Soldiers and knights were everywhere, and stares followed them wherever they went.

They walked toward less populated areas to avoid the attention. Adrianna moved stiffly, like something broken.

"You're walking rather strangely."

"..."

She didn't answer.

Before they knew it, they had reached the top of the castle. The dull iron smell of a large bell tickled Galahad's nose. Cutting winds swept in from every direction, chilling him to the bone.

"Ah..."

Adrianna let out a soft sigh, her long blond hair whipping wildly. Her face was as expressionless as ever, yet there was a curious vitality to her.

'She likes high places.'

Galahad made a note of it.

"Isn't it beautiful?"

There was a little excitement in her voice. He looked around. Pure white snow stretched as far as he could see. The snow-covered landscape resembled a magnificent painting. It was certainly beautiful.

Though to Galahad, who judged things by their worth, it was merely barren, freezing land.

He nodded.

"Beautiful."

Her hair lashed wildly in the wind. Through it, he caught a small smile. It was slightly awkward, as though she hadn't had much practice. But it was beautiful.

"About what you said before."

"That you're beautiful?"

"What? Oh, not that—"

Her lips moved soundlessly for a moment, a hint of deliberation crossing her face. Galahad didn't hurry her. He shook out the hand that had habitually started reaching for a cigarette.

Only after enough time had passed to smoke two cigarettes did she speak.

"Your question about whether the Demons have a king..."

Galahad's eyes widened at her cautious words.

The Demon King. Those words sent his heart pounding. Blood rushed to his head so violently that his vision wavered for a moment.

Galahad had been searching for the Demon King for a long time. He had spoken to people time and again to prepare for him, but the answers were always negative. Even when he explained his reasoning, everyone shook their heads.

Even the junior who worshipped him, even First, clicked their tongues when he mentioned the Demon King. They criticized him for chasing such a bizarre goal. One woman had listened, but even she had gone in a different direction.

Yet Adrianna had brought it up herself.

"You're too close."

"My apologies. You're simply too beautiful."

"Yes, but you're still too close."

Galahad took a step back. Adrianna cleared her throat softly and spoke.

"I've given it serious consideration since you asked me, Commander Galahad. Since some Demons pose as nobles, there could also be a Demon who calls himself king."

"Exactly. Where there are nobles, naturally there must be a king! Someone who understands! At last!"

Adrianna was slightly bewildered by the excitement of a man who ordinarily never showed any emotion. Then Galahad strode closer.

"The Demon King exists. And someday, he'll plunge the continent into the abyss of destruction."

"You're too clo..."

"Those fools wouldn't listen no matter how often I told them. You have no idea how frustrating it was."

"Too close..."

"But you understand! I've finally found—"

"... It's dangerous!"

Adrianna hastily pushed him away. Galahad fell flat. His eyes, visible through his disheveled hair, were far too bright.

"Ah, I'm sorry."

Adrianna hurriedly apologized and went down the stairs. The cool wind restored Galahad's composure. By the time he raised his head, she was already gone.

'Adrianna mentioned the Demon King.'

Galahad rolled the sentence around in his mouth like a sweet.

'At last—'

There had always been two responses to the Demon King: dismissal and ridicule. However logically he explained it, the result was the same. That was why he had stopped bringing up the Demon King.

'That was certainly how it had been...'

Yet Adrianna had been the first to say the words "Demon King." She had even responded favorably. It was a response he had never seen before.

'Why only Adrianna?'

Everything had a cause and a reason. Galahad reviewed the reactions he had received. Even if they didn't understand the Demon King, they could at least have pretended to listen. Instead, everyone rejected the idea outright.

As though they had been brainwashed.

'Brainwashed? Then what about Adrianna?'

Adrianna had responded favorably. The difference between her and the others was clear.

'Adrianna's mana-burning nature! Oh, so that was it.'

Her nature must have been responsible. If her ability to burn mana had blocked it, then what it blocked had to be mana or authority.

'Magic couldn't do it. And since this concerns the Demon King in the first place, it must be a Demon's power—authority.'

His thoughts raced on.

'Does it prevent people from thinking about the Demon King? Can it affect the entire continent? Is that possible even for an upper-echelon Demon?'

It was an incomprehensible ability. This could not be an ordinary upper-echelon Demon. If such a feat was possible, it had to be authority.

In any case, the important thing was...

'The Demon King exists. And...'

Galahad swept back his disheveled hair. His eyes were alight with laughter.

* * *

"Are you all right?"

Tom regarded Gilberton with concern. Following Galahad's lead, Gilberton had wagered his pay twice in a row and won a tremendous amount of money. Having acquired a taste for gambling, he had then bet his entire fortune.

And lost it all.

Knowing that, Tom was worried about him. Yet Gilberton was surprisingly composed.

"A knight needs only a sword."

He was so composed that it made Tom even more worried.

"My sword has grown lighter. It wasn't my armor slowing my hand."

Gilberton laughed heartily and tapped his sword. Offering to demonstrate, he drew it.

"Watch closely."

With that solemn instruction, he began moving his blade.

In Tom's opinion, Gilberton was a bit thickheaded, but his skill was genuine. He was famous enough that even a lowly soldier like Tom knew of him. His sword moved with weight and force. Even to Tom's untrained eye, his swordsmanship was clean.

'Maybe he really has gotten faster... '

When Gilberton finally stopped, Tom applauded enthusiastically.

"Your sword is definitely faster! Sharper than before, too! Just what I'd expect from Sir Gilberton!"

"I'd forgotten that a knight's sword is everything."

With Gilberton putting it that way, Tom had little to say.

"I didn't lose money. I purchased a valuable lesson."

His face was utterly serious.

'Didn't you lose it, though?'

Tom had his doubts, but nodded anyway.

Just then, Gwen returned. In contrast to Gilberton, her face was all smiles.

"Miss Gwen, has something good happened?"

"Oh, ahem!"

She shook the pouch in her hand, producing a loud jingle. It was an unusually heavy pouch for someone who sent her wages to the children she cared for.

"They were taking bets over there! So I placed one too!"

"What? You bet on a draw?"

"Yes! They said it paid the most!"

"Pardon?"

"You have to bet on the highest odds to get the most money! Isn't that obvious?"

She acted as though she couldn't understand why he was asking something so obvious. Tom nodded uncertainly. A draw had offered the highest payout, so of course it would earn the most money. But higher odds also meant greater risk.

'She bet on a draw because she didn't understand how odds work... '

Tom marveled at her gambler's instincts.

A strangled gasp sounded. Gilberton was staring at Gwen with bulging eyes. Tom hurriedly intervened.

"Then you're rich now!"

"That's right! Now the children won't have to go hungry! Hehe."

Gwen smiled, stroking the pouch. Her care for the orphans was already well known. At her pure delight, Gilberton coughed softly, looking somewhat sheepish.

"It's dangerous for children to keep that much money on their own. I'll introduce you to someone trustworthy."

That sounded decidedly suspicious. Tom shot Gilberton an urgent look.

"What? Someone trustworthy?"

"A soldier here named Bertman. Explain the circumstances, and he'll take care of it. He's fond of children, so he probably won't even charge a fee."

"Wow! That sounds wonderful!"

Tom breathed a small sigh of relief. Then something struck him.

Gwen's pouch was smaller than he would have expected.

"That's less than I thought it would be. There was quite a lot of money riding on the match."

"His Highness the Grand Duke bet on a draw too! A whole lot!"

The Grand Duke had wagered on a draw? Had he predicted it? Tom murmured to himself.

Gwen handed the pouch to Gilberton. Taking it, he bit his lip for a moment, then ventured to speak.

"Ahem. In gambling, there's something called a kitty for the losers..."

"What? A kitty? How cute!"

"No, a share of the winnings... Never mind."

Gilberton sighed softly and shook his head. Tom stifled a laugh.

Then he suddenly sensed something was wrong. Glancing around, he asked urgently,

"Where's Damian?"

Damian was nowhere to be seen.