Chapter 79 - The Golden Rod

“We made it out.”

Galahad spoke as he struggled to steady his ragged breathing. The fresh, damp dawn air tickled his nose.

The sun was beginning to rise as they emerged. What had been eerie ruins in the darkness now looked rather magnificent.

Then again, wouldn't anything look beautiful after leaving a place crawling with Demons?

“Are you all right?”

Adrianna asked quietly. Her legs had given out, and Galahad was supporting her.

“You're heavier than I expected.”

“... Pardon?”

“Let's go a little farther.”

Galahad urged on the unit members, who were ready to collapse. There was no telling when the ruler might come up. They had to get as far away as possible.

Only after reaching the wagon did Galahad catch his breath. Gilberton took the reins, and the rest climbed aboard.

“Hyah!”

Gilberton gave a long shout. The wagon lurched violently into motion, and Galahad released the breath he had been holding.

Heat filled the wagon. Tom opened a window, letting the cool dawn air wash over them.

Galahad reflected on what he had seen in the city: honing mana to a sharp edge, the ruler's peculiar authority, the identity of the four-legged Demon...

He had gained quite a lot. He had learned Damian's nature and discovered how to sharpen mana.

Above all...

'An upper-echelon Demon's blood.'

He shook the canteen and heard liquid slosh inside.

THUMP! THUMP!

The previously quiet Egg of agony kept pounding. It panted as though demanding to be fed at once.

Drinking it now would certainly produce remarkable results, but saving it for when he needed it would be more efficient. When he had to fight an upper-echelon Demon, for instance...

THUMP! THUMP!

'Shut up.'

... THUMP.

The Egg of agony fell quiet. It seemed to have learned a little discipline.

Galahad clicked his tongue and examined his body.

'What a mess.'

Using magic indiscriminately had left his insides in utter disarray. With Demons as his opponents, he had had little choice.

He fastened the canteen to his waist and took another from inside his clothes. This one contained a bottom-ranking Demon's blood. When he sipped it, the Egg of agony gave a faint tremble.

GROWL!

“I'm hungry.”

At Damian's complaint, Tom took out some jerky and handed it over. Damian swallowed it without even chewing.

'So it wasn't physical hunger.'

Galahad mused as he watched Damian tear into the jerky.

Damian's staple food was neither meat nor bread.

It was a knight's aura.

'Eating a knight's aura... Interesting.'

Damian had even eaten Adrianna's aura. That power must have come from his origins. Even considering the danger, he was more than worth raising.

'I'll have to tell Sir Gilberton to feed him aura regularly.'

Ignorant as Gilberton was, his aura, at least, was exceptional.

Someone poked him repeatedly from the side. He turned to find a ridiculous helmet. Adrianna. She looked as though she had something to say.

The blue eyes visible through that ridiculous helmet were serious. Galahad considered what she might say.

She had every reason to be suspicious. A Demon had appeared after following Galahad, two Demons had coveted him, and he had even spoken of killing the Emperor.

'This is decidedly bad.'

Adrianna had spent her entire life on the front lines fighting Demons. Her hostility toward them needed no explanation.

As he tried to think of a suitable excuse, her helmet rattled.

“It's the armor that's heavy.”

“... Hmm?”

Galahad narrowed his eyes at her serious tone. Adrianna pointed at her armor.

“This armor. It's made of cheap iron, so it weighs a great deal. Furthermore, I'm wearing demon-beast hide beneath it, so naturally it's heavy. Therefore, Commander Galahad, the weight you felt was due to this armor.”

Her voice was exceedingly serious.

Only after Galahad nodded did Adrianna stop explaining why her armor was heavy.

Adrianna took a sheet of paper from inside her clothes. Phrases had been written on it in advance, things like “We are in danger.” Apparently, it was for reporting to the Grand Duke.

“Tom should have paper and a pen.”

“Why would a soldier carry paper and a pen?”

Her question was reasonable. In this world, fewer than one person in ten could read. A soldier had no reason to carry writing supplies.

Galahad thought much the same, but somehow he felt Tom would have them.

“Ah, I bought some to keep the accounts and a journal of the Special Operations Unit. It's cheap parchment made from dried hide. Will that do?”

“... Why are you keeping a journal?”

“It's a hobby.”

At Tom's firm reply, Adrianna's helmet wobbled briefly.

“The Special Operations Unit really is an unusual unit.”

“You say that as though you're not one of us.”

“I'm here under a cover identity. Though not even that anymore.”

Adrianna removed her helmet as she spoke. Tom hurriedly turned away, looking as though he had seen something forbidden.

The ridiculous helmet came off, revealing her face. For a moment, the wagon seemed to brighten.

Galahad smacked his lips.

'What a shame. It was rather entertaining.'

Gilberton normally treated Adrianna with the utmost reverence. Galahad wondered how he would react upon learning that the rookie he had been bullying was Adrianna.

Adrianna wrote on the parchment Tom gave her. When she opened the door and reached out, a white hawk appeared. It fluttered away.

Just then...

“Rookie! Should I be the one holding the reins?!”

Gilberton's bellow rang out.

Adrianna's eyebrow twitched. She looked at Galahad, bewilderment plain in her gaze.

'He hasn't noticed?'

Gilberton had lost consciousness, but Adrianna hadn't concealed her sword during their escape.

'They were on opposite sides, admittedly.'

Even so, how could he have failed to notice?

'Ah. Denial.'

The shock must have been so great that he had chosen to look away instead. A sort of defense mechanism.

In any case...

“Rookie!!”

“He's calling you.”

Galahad put the helmet back on Adrianna as she stared at him in confusion. He could feel her gaze through the ridiculous helmet.

“You know yourself how useful this method is.”

CLATTER.

With a quiet sigh, Adrianna opened the wagon door and stepped out.

Galahad leaned back and closed his eyes.

The Demon city, the pit, the four-legged Demon, the ruler, the first human Mage being a traitor... All manner of things came to mind.

“Do I have to call you before you come out? I'm Gilberton, the deputy commander. With my seniority, should I be holding the reins?”

Galahad chuckled.

* * *

'To think Galahad would turn up here...'

The fox-masked figure knew of Galahad.

That was only natural, given how much attention he was attracting in the North, but the figure was more familiar with his days in the Intelligence Bureau.

'I never thought I'd see him in person.'

There were plenty of stories about Galahad. The most memorable was that he was a magic specialist.

Not a Mage, but a magic specialist... A ridiculous title, though the truth behind it was anything but ridiculous.

“Magic specialist” had two meanings: someone who specialized in killing Mages exceptionally well, and someone with expert knowledge of magic.

What had caught the fox-masked figure's attention, however, was the being inside him.

'He's harboring an egg.'

He was even using it. His methods were crude, certainly, but he was unmistakably using the egg.

That piqued the figure's interest—enough to consider taking on extra work when the ruler showed an interest in him.

Then something unexpected happened.

Another upper-echelon Demon appeared behind him.

It was...

'A forgotten being.'

Without the fox-masked figure needing to intervene, Galahad escaped with Adrianna.

Things had worked out well, one could say.

The problem was...

“That fucking bastard! How dare he take my baton!”

Galahad had taken the ruler's baton.

The ruler repeatedly exploded with rage. The heads of its human servants exploded instead.

That was hardly enough to quell its fury.

The ruler's obsession with possessions was immense. Anything that caught its fancy had to be added to its collection before it could be satisfied.

This city itself had begun with that bizarre obsession.

Of all its possessions, the ruler especially cherished its crown and baton.

And Galahad had taken that baton.

Left alone, the ruler looked ready to give chase, so the fox-masked figure stepped forward.

“That's enough.”

“You dare give me orders?”

“Are you going out? Out there?”

The fox-masked figure pointed at the gate. The ruler's face twisted.

Outside the Demon Realm, a Demon's power diminished pitifully. That was why the higher Demons never emerged from its depths.

“He dared take what is mine. You think I'll stand by? Even if I have to wipe out the North—”

“And the Grand Duke?”

The ruler's eyes narrowed. After a moment's hesitation, the corners of its mouth rose.

Its thoughts were obvious.

“I'll move the plan forward.”

So it was crossing the line after all. The fox-masked figure sighed softly.

'Should I dispose of it?'

The figure shook their head. The damage was already done. Cleaning it up would be work enough.

“I'll retrieve the baton for you. Just prepare to move the city. The Grand Duke may act.”

“Bring him too.”

The ruler's voice dripped with emotion.

“Alive.”

It added that with a smile.

That had been the fox-masked figure's intention from the outset.

“Yes, well. Understood.”

The ruler's obsession wasn't incomprehensible. The baton Galahad had taken was immensely valuable.

But he wasn't an upper-echelon Demon. He couldn't possibly have recognized its value.

'Why on earth did he take it?'

The fox-masked figure narrowed their eyes.

* * *

'This would be useful for hiking.'

Galahad ran his hands over the golden rod.

He had grabbed it first and worried about the rest later. Now that he was examining it, he couldn't work out its purpose. Even feeding it mana produced no response.

The only clue was the writing engraved on its surface. Galahad had never seen those characters before, so he had no way to decipher them for now.

'It does feel good in the hand, though.'

It fit snugly in his grip every time he held it. He liked its antique appearance, too.

Its length was just right for a walking stick, or even a means of self-defense in place of a sword.

It had already proved its worth while he was supporting Adrianna.

Unlike before, the Grand Duke's castle was bustling. Wagons stood everywhere, marked with various numbers.

'All the commanders are here.'

The Grand Duke must have summoned them.

The North's commanders wielded tremendous power within their assigned districts. With troops under their command as well, they naturally became rather full of themselves.

For such stiff-necked commanders to assemble so quickly, the Grand Duke must truly be frightening.

“By the way, where did the rookie go?”

Galahad looked at Gilberton at the question.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Sir Gilberton, you never disappoint me.”

“Pardon?”

“Never mind.”

Galahad shook his head and walked on.

“A Demon city... Those damned Demons. We ought to take this opportunity to wipe them all out.”

Gilberton followed, cursing in his usual crude fashion.

“It will be gone already.”

“Pardon?”

“They've been discovered. Why would they stay there? They'll move.”

“How does a city move?”

“Why ask me? Ask the Demons.”

“... Pardon?”

Galahad clicked his tongue softly and headed inside. The soldiers' piercing gazes fell on him at once.

'Will the Grand Duke act?'

The Grand Duke seldom left his castle. The last time he had done so had been because of Adrianna.

She wasn't in danger now, so he wouldn't intervene.

That behavior didn't match the temperament Galahad had observed in him.

'An accord, was it?'

Galahad recalled the word he had heard in the conversation between the Imperial Princess and the Grand Duke.

The Grand Duke was very likely under some sort of restriction. How many people could impose restrictions on him? It had to be the Emperor.

'The Grand Duke is bound by an accord and can't act freely.'

Was he the only one bound by it? Galahad shook his head.

There were quite a few powerful individuals on the continent. Remarkably few of them were active.

If the accord was the reason...

'Quite plausible.'

His thoughts continued.

The four-legged Demon wanted the Emperor dead. Its reason was that “the Emperor does nothing.”

What if the powerful were bound by the Emperor's accord, and that was why it wanted his death?

'Very plausible indeed.'

Galahad's gaze deepened.

* * *

'Such a sudden summons...'

Mark, commander of the Fifth Battalion, narrowed his eyes.

The Grand Duke had never once summoned the commanders before.

Something must have happened.

Just then, the door opened and Adrianna appeared. Her blond hair, like molten sunlight, swayed as she entered, brightening the dark room.

She headed farther inside, to a place with an empty seat beside it.

“Is the Special Operations Unit's commander still not here?”

“He's the star of the show. Must be making a deliberately late entrance.”

Snide remarks came from around the room.

Originally, the commanders hadn't been particularly interested in Galahad. The prevailing opinion had been, “He'll get himself killed soon enough.”

But Galahad hadn't died. Far from it: he had continued distinguishing himself and finally earned even the Grand Duke's recognition.

He was no longer someone they could ignore.

Adrianna was the North's hero and pride. Hostility toward the Empire had reached its peak following the incident between her and the crown prince.

Galahad was the match the Empire had offered her. He came from the Empire, was a noble, and was even a Mage.

He was everything the North hated, distilled into one man.

Their hostility was only natural.

Mark wasn't particularly worried. This was Galahad, after all. The Seventh Battalion's commander seemed to feel much the same, remaining silent.

Then an unexpected person rose.

“I'm sure he has a good reason.”

It was Adrianna.

She normally never interfered in another commander's affairs, on the principle that each commander answered only to His Highness the Grand Duke.

With her stepping forward to defend him, the atmosphere grew peculiar. If anything, it had the opposite effect.

Just then, the door opened gently. Galahad entered, as immaculate as ever. The only difference was the golden rod in his hand.

The commanders' sharp gazes converged on him. Their hostility pressed down on Galahad so fiercely that even Mark could feel it.

In response, Galahad...

“Oh, right on time. A pleasure to see you all. I'm Galahad, commander of the Special Operations Unit.”

He greeted them with a smile.

'Right on time, he says...'

Tongues clicked and teeth ground around the room. Galahad walked past as though nothing were amiss and took his seat beside Adrianna with perfect ease.

'How does he manage to get under people's skin so well?'

Mark was genuinely impressed. Galahad was perceptive. There was no way he could miss the atmosphere.

Yet rather than showing deference, he only irritated the commanders further.

'Remarkable in another sense, too.'

Then the door burst open.

A fierce presence filled the room, exerting enough pressure to steal one's breath.

It was the Grand Duke, overlord of the North.

The commanders hastily rose at his arrival. Mark swallowed hard at that murderous presence.

Without so much as a glance at them, the Grand Duke headed to the seat of honor. Once he sat, the commanders hurried to sit as well.

They watched him carefully, wary of making even the sound of breathing.

Then the Grand Duke beckoned to Galahad.

'The Grand Duke's recognition...'

Galahad rose. Standing still, he looked around at the commanders.

“My dear commanders of the North. I am well aware of your tireless efforts. How difficult it must be to defend this cold, barren land against the Demons.”

He began smoothly.

At those unexpected words, the commanders' expressions grew uncertain. The Grand Duke leaned back as though uninterested.

'What on earth is going on?'

Even Mark couldn't make sense of the situation.

“I found it terribly cold myself when I came to the North. Without a demon-beast coat, I'd have frozen to death long ago. Haha. Fighting Demons in such cold! You have my sincere respect.”

Galahad spoke with a faint smile.

His intentions were unclear, but the praise softened the atmosphere a little.

'What's he thinking?'

Mark narrowed his eyes.

Galahad's eloquent speech continued without pause. He went on to praise the snow-covered mountains at dawn and the snow-blanketed lakes at sunset.

“In the Empire, even when it snows, we get no more than a paltry dusting. But how it pours down here in the North! Perhaps the snowfall matches the scale of your ambitions! Haha!”

An imperial was disparaging the Empire while praising the North. How could they dislike that?

Several commanders laughed along.

Before they knew it, all the commanders were listening intently to him.

Galahad continued casually.

“This time, I visited a place called Hellob. Quite a splendid place.”

Hellob? Mark frowned at the unexpected name.

Then Galahad turned his hand in a circle.

The golden rod moved fluidly to point at someone.

Like a sword...

“Hellob is a truly splendid place. You seem to know it. Don't you, Chartien, commander of the Sixth Battalion?”

Galahad's lips curved into a broad smile.