Episode 25

Spirito, the royal capital of the Kingdom of Diabalet. In this city—one of the largest on the continent—many residents lived their lives.

From the Royal Special District where the royal family resided, to the commoners’ quarters, to the slums where illegal refugees without residency rights lived, the city had been strictly divided by who belonged where.

“This is good tea.”

The man enjoying black tea with elegance was Aaron Izosaar. Born the third son of the Marquis House of Izosaar, he was meeting his family at the marquisate’s mansion in the noble district.

“Aaron. Drop that foolish attitude. We’re having a serious discussion.”

The man rebuking Aaron was named Clotted Izosaar, the eldest son of the Marquis House of Izosaar.

“Brother. There’s no point saying anything to this weirdo. The Izosaar blood in him is thin.”

Tsaity Izosaar. The second son of the marquis house, he held a strong supremacist, nobility-first ideology.

The two older brothers had always tried to push Aaron out whenever they could. As Tsaity claimed, it wasn’t that Aaron’s bloodline was “thin”—their father and mother were the same, and they were unquestionably true brothers.

The deep rift between them largely came from Aaron’s sheer talent.

“My brothers, I’m perfectly serious. I’m just seriously enjoying this tea.”

The court swordsmanship he had studied in childhood was already on par with adults. His specialty lightning magic surpassed even professional mages.

Because he fought with such versatility by combining the two, he came to be called the marquis house’s prodigy. Aaron was a genius so far beyond his brothers they could not keep up.

“…You. That’s enough—”

“Stop it. We’re discussing something that concerns our house’s future.”

The one who checked Tsaity was a tall, sharp-eyed man. It was Wishka Izosaar, head of the marquis house and father of the three.

“Aaron. Has your standing in the Royal Guard Corps remained unchanged?”

“Nothing in particular. I’m the same as ever.”

Aaron hummed as he savored the aroma of the tea. Even though the other party was his father and the family head, he seemed unwilling to change his stance of enjoying tea. —Seeing that, his brothers’ veins bulged with irritation.

“Good. Keep it that way. …And what about your relationship with the Astera Ducal House?”

“What could you mean…? I haven’t the slightest idea.”

From the outside, his evasive attitude looked like mockery—and it would be natural to feel anger at it. Yet Wishka showed no such reaction. Even without words, he understood Aaron’s position.

Actol Astera, the next head of the Astera Ducal House, was also the leader of the intelligence organization that had long supported the Kingdom of Diabalet from the shadows. And Aaron often had chances to act alongside Actol.

From the Royal Guard Corps’ standpoint, the connection between the two was not strange. But high-ranking nobles with a certain level of power understood the nation’s origins—that is, its shadow side. Naturally, they could infer Actol’s ties to intelligence. —Of course, they also understood that saying it aloud carelessly could get them erased.

“Fine. But don’t forget this: you exist for the sake of the Marquis House of Izosaar.”

“Of course, Father.”

Nothing had changed since long ago. Aaron acted for the marquis house—on the surface.

“…Father. The usual season is drawing near.”

Judging the conversation had reached a break, Clotted cut in to confirm with Wishka.

“That’s right. …Aaron, what’s your schedule?”

““!?””

Clotted and Tsaity stared in shock. Without even glancing at them, Aaron answered.

“I plan to participate as a member of the Royal Guard Corps.”

“I see. …Same as every year. Each of you, make your preparations.”

“…Then I’ll take my leave. I’ve been summoned.”

Aaron stood and left the room. Clotted and Tsaity glared at his back.

“Father! Why would you bring along that weirdo—”

“Exactly. With my brother and me, that should be more than enough.”

“…Still green. Listen well. Don’t assume a marquis house will remain safe forever. He built pipelines to influential people using methods unlike anything before.”

Wishka looked toward the chair Aaron had been sitting in.

“Are you saying that’s Lagias, Father!? If it looks like the Marquis House of Izosaar is connected to Lagias, it’ll become a shackle!”

“That’s why I said you’re green. Do you understand what it means that a ducal house—one that hates risk—has taken Lagias into its hands?”

Under Wishka’s sharp glare, the two could not answer.

“Have you ever thought about why the royal family never disposed of Lagias until now? If you can’t understand that… then Izosaar has no need of you.”

Wishka rose.

“Understood? Do not lay a hand on Zeke Lagias. Whatever anyone’s intentions, he has achievements to his name. —If the royal family or the ducal houses set their sights on you, even a marquis house will lose its place. Don’t forget that.”

He left as if driving a nail in—like he was saying: don’t do anything unnecessary.

“Damn it! What is Father thinking!?”

Wishka had gone, leaving Clotted and Tsaity behind. Their anger spilled out openly.

“I don’t know. But Father was actually trying to take that Aaron along.”

Clotted slammed the table as if venting his frustration. A cup toppled, and the remaining tea spilled out.

“He’s the third son! You expect me—the eldest—to accept being pushed aside!?”

“…Either way, he’ll participate as Royal Guard Corps. Probably as escort for the ducal house.”

Tsaity’s expression was bitter. On the surface he looked calmer than Clotted, but inside he was raging.

When they were children, the two had schemed behind the scenes to bring down the gifted Aaron. But considering Aaron’s current standing, clumsy sabotage was impossible. Their father Wishka stopping them was part of it, but more than that, Aaron Izosaar himself was a troublesome existence.

He held a central position in the Royal Guard Corps, had the backing of Actol, the next head of the Astera Ducal House, and Zeke—often a topic of rumor—was close by.

Status and combat power: in both, the two could not oppose him.

“Brother… at this rate—”

“I know! Anything. We’ll pay enough money and eliminate Aaron. You help too!”

Clotted and Tsaity desperately began plotting. Their minds held only one thing: erase their hated little brother, the obstacle in their way.

“As I thought… this is how it turns out!”

“!?”

“W-who’s there!?”

A mysterious voice echoed from somewhere. A childlike laugh rang out around them.

“Hey—why don’t you try listening to me, just as a test? If it goes well, you might be able to bury that hateful third son.”

Normally, they would never lend an ear to such a suspicious, bodiless voice. But right now, the words sounded far too enticing.

“—So that’s how it is. My father and brothers really are a problem. To enjoy tea with elegance is a duty for humans to remain human… and yet! It makes me sad!”

“…Yes. I sympathize with your family.”

The Astera Ducal House’s basement. They had gathered underground in the heavily guarded ducal estate.

Secret talks within the ducal house had happened many times. At first they had acted in secrecy to avoid attention, but now, unless there was a special reason, they carried themselves openly.

“Let us walk with our chests held high!”

Aaron’s remark set the tone.

Intelligence work demanded stealth, but Aaron’s conspicuousness was nothing new. Even if they tried to hide him, his inborn “genius nature” kept shining. So Actol had half given up and let him do as he pleased.

“Hey. Don’t make noise underground. It echoes in my head.”

And there was another problem child.

If anything, he was more famous than Aaron. A vicious, lawless corrupt noble known throughout the kingdom—the Lagias Devil, whose overwhelming power was now feared even abroad. Zeke’s presence also gave Actol headaches.

“How sad. People like us must look warped to society.”

“Are you stupid? The only one who’s messed up is you.”

Aaron tried to treat him as the same kind of person, and Zeke rejected it head-on. Actol found himself impressed they could keep up this routine every single time.

“Ahem. Let’s get back on track.”

“Hm? I don’t think we’ve reached the main point yet.”

“State your business quickly. Are you trying to waste my time?”

“…Gah! As if I’m being treated like the weirdo here.”

Thinking that the two in front of him were his strongest individual assets made Actol’s head ache. Both had their quirks, and their surroundings were unusual. But no matter how hard they were to handle, they produced results—so perhaps it was a strange bond that kept them together.

“Ahem! …Aaron, you have the item, yes?”

“Yes! Of course, Mr. Actol! Just look at this!”

Aaron lifted one leg high and pulled something from his chest.

He raised a golden, perfectly regular cube—

“Spearize.”

“!? Why would you take it out so carelessly!? Put it away at once!”

“Hmph. So you’re at least fulfilling the minimum.”

Floating above Aaron’s palm, “Spearize” rotated slowly.

The ancient relic Zeke had secured in Lagias Dungeon had been entrusted to Aaron.

“Listen carefully. I’ve explained this many times, but that is a ‘key blueprint.’ If the enemy decides they cannot seize the ‘key,’ the next thing they will target is that.”

A month ago, the regional cities Westen and Osten had been attacked. According to the knights who were there, the enemy had said they would dispose of “unnecessary” people. And just as they said, they used an incomprehensible magic formula to summon monsters and unleash them upon the city. —As a result, Osten suffered catastrophic damage.

“…It was a shocking incident. But some lives were saved.”

Actol glanced at Zeke as if to say, yes.

“The key holders are Ciel and Luke Hartmann. That’s settled. The remaining one is…”

“Lady Ciel has a top-class bodyguard, but will the golden knight-boy be alright?”

“He’s currently in Osten, helping with reconstruction. There are regimental-command-level people there, and we’ve also assigned intelligence (our side) to keep watch.”

Osten, receiving a national reconstruction unit and support from neighboring Westen. Many had been killed or wounded, but as Aaron said, some lives had been saved.

“…At this point, the enemy’s movements are becoming more active. You two will move.”

“Then, as planned…”

Actol informed them of the operation that had been planned from the beginning. Zeke frowned as he listened.

“Don’t make that face. This isn’t a bad deal for you either, is it?”

“Hah. A gathering of trash who fawn and flatter—what value does that have? Are you telling me to play the clown?”

“…I was mistaken. If you’ll simply exert your power when an emergency arises, that’s enough.”

Actol felt drained. Zeke unleashed a storm of abuse even toward a duke. If handled poorly, he might even bite at royalty.

“? Mm-hm, mm-hm. Indeed. We are seekers of truth.”

Aaron nodded at Actol and Zeke.

As always, it was unclear what he meant, but he seemed satisfied with something.

“Anyway, both of you should make your preparations. —We’ll need an example made of someone.”

Zeke left the Royal Special District. The private talk with Actol was over, and he had no particular plans after this.

The sun was slanting down, and he walked while thinking about what to do for the night. Not that he had many options—he would buy something at random and eat at a hotel. If Zeke appeared at a restaurant, the atmosphere would sour instantly.

“Mmm, it’s about dinner time.”

“I see. Then disappear promptly.”

Beside expressionless Zeke walked high-spirited Aaron. People in the royal capital stared at the contrasting pair as they passed.

Zeke had often been subjected to malicious stares, but recently the color of those gazes had changed. The discomfort of it felt unpleasant.

“My friend… what’s wrong? You haven’t been yourself lately.”

“…………Hah. If you’re the one worrying about me, I’m finished.”

For a moment, Zeke’s reaction lagged at the unexpected remark. He hadn’t imagined serious words would come from Aaron, with his unique worldview.

“I see… then! I, Aaron! Shall guide you to a special place!”

Aaron shouted in the middle of the street and spun. Zeke ignored him and quickened his pace. Aaron chased after him while spinning. The people around them were visibly put off.

“No, no—this way isn’t it, my friend.”

“…Fine. Just be quiet.”

Reluctantly, Zeke went along with Aaron’s suggestion. If they drew any more attention, someone might report them to the knights.

Zeke let Aaron walk ahead and followed a short distance behind.

He didn’t understand. Why he had acted that way. Why he had chosen that.

He should have known what to prioritize, yet before he realized it, he had done the exact opposite.

He had decided it didn’t matter what he sacrificed. What happened to a mere shell—something completely unlike him—shouldn’t have mattered.

—What was it that he truly wanted?