Episode 3

Zeke (Hiroto) was in a hotel room in the royal capital.

With ducal-house requests and intelligence work to handle, staying at the family home in the Lagias Domain was inefficient. That was why he had chosen this hotel as his base.

Renting a property was also an option, but there was no landlord alive who would rent to a Lagias.

(Yeah, it’s the same lineup as the original… but why the hell is the guard Zeke of all people?)

Ciel being targeted by an unknown group in black and Selen serving as Ciel’s protector were both unchanged from the original story. The timing of events seemed slightly shifted, but not everything matched the game.

People in this world were alive, and in the first place, he fought every day to change that “original story.” —Even so, Zeke being the escort was absurd.

The event where the protagonists encountered Ciel and Selen was triggered by a request from Actol.

Van, the grandson of Masfelt Freak—the swordsman praised as the strongest in the world. Actol had approached him because of his fame and track record, but for them it had been a godsend as well.

(At this rate, the main cast’s “meeting event” is going to derail… I’ve got to get them connected somehow.)

The reason the protagonist and heroine left the Freak Trading Company and set out on a journey was to search for a treatment for Masfelt, who had collapsed from an unknown illness.

The Maria Church, the Apothecaries Association, the Adventurers Association—they ran all over the land looking for clues. Along the way, they piled up encounters and farewells and experience, and then met Ciel.

In exchange for taking the escort job, they would attempt to treat Masfelt with Ciel’s sacred arts. That was the condition Actol had presented.

(Should I make up some excuse and go meet Van and the others? …No, that’s bad. I don’t even know where they are, and if Zeke personally introduces them, it’ll look suspicious as hell.)

He remembered perfectly where the story began. But he had no idea what situation Van and the others were currently in, and there was no guarantee everything would proceed like the game. Masfelt might even be living in good health.

(Should I threaten Actol and force him to go check on them? …If a ducal-house person shows up out of nowhere, they’d normally get wary. That muscle grandpa is insane, too. Actol might get the crap beaten out of him.)

Masfelt lay sick in bed. Then Zeke appeared.

Masfelt refused one of Zeke’s demands, and the two clashed.

Sword and magic. Power colliding with power.

Even while ravaged by illness, Masfelt fought desperately and shocked Zeke. He pushed him to the brink—one step away—but in the end he ran out of strength and died.

He hadn’t lost to Zeke. He had lost to the disease.

(If I save the strongest in the story—Masfelt—who was supposed to die, I might be able to use that… but still. I don’t know whether that would lead to Van’s growth.)

Dragged into various incidents while searching for a cure, the protagonists were swallowed by the flames of war. The trigger for Van’s major growth was undoubtedly his grandfather’s death. Overturning that could itself be a risk.

(Honestly, I can’t predict it… the world after a game over.)

From Hiroto’s standpoint, the best outcome was for things to proceed according to the original. It made people’s actions easier to anticipate and course-correction simpler. Even if the enemy side lost exactly as written, it was no problem.

As long as Zeke survived at the end, that was enough.

If the conflict between the protagonists and the enemy side became chaotic and unreadable, he would flee abroad. There was a very real possibility he would be forced into the role of “plot device,” after all.

If neither side won and they both wiped each other out, it might be a bad ending in story terms—but to Hiroto, it was a happy ending, and a true ending.

—He had no obligation to play along with this world’s convenience.

Several carriages had been stopped at the royal capital’s gate. Each bore the crest of a ducal house.

Around them stood nearly twenty knights who looked like escorts. Their armor was brilliantly made, as if symbolizing silver—knights belonging exclusively to the ducal house.

“Lady Ciel. With us here, that is sufficient. I believe Lagias is unnecessary.”

“…It is the house’s decision. I cannot overturn it by personal judgment.”

The ducal house’s dedicated knight order, the “Duke Guard.” The man raising objections to Ciel—this mission’s leader—was Maenof Protocol.

“It is possible if it is Lady Ciel’s wish. Please, reconsider.”

“…Lord Protocol. I heard it was your judgment that removed Golton and Stille from this assignment. I find it questionable that two such skilled people are absent.”

“We move as an organization, not as individuals. I acknowledge their ability, but from the standpoint of coordination, this was the appropriate decision.”

A small-statured man spoke calmly, without the slightest shame. He was short for someone in his early twenties. Perhaps to compensate, he wore thick-soled boots.

“It is only reasonable that I accompany you as the commander. There is also the possibility the villagers will require treatment.”

With a proud expression, Maenof brushed aside bangs grown unnaturally long. The bangs—thin and braided, like strands of yarn—were the same silver as Ciel’s hair.

“Of course, someone like me cannot compare to you in the slightest… but my house is also a distant branch of the royal line. I can wield sacred arts as well. No matter how much that Lagias brat struggles, he cannot reach the heights where I stand.”

“…I am still in the process of learning myself. That is why I need the help of an A-rank adventurer who represents this nation—someone like him.”

Ciel emphasized her connection to the Adventurers Association. Behind the scenes, multiple agendas intertwined, starting with Actol’s, but on the surface it looked like she had simply hired Zeke, one of the kingdom’s foremost adventurers.

“Adventurer ranks cannot be trusted anymore. Fakes who only have rank should be disposed of.”

Maenof did not grasp Ciel’s indirect refusal. The only thing that came through was his determination to exclude Zeke.

Ciel did not show it, but she was thoroughly exhausted. This was not the first time—Maenof was one of those people who found excuses to approach anyone who got close to Ciel.

“That man is not suitable for Lady Ciel… Ah, speak of the devil—the kingdom’s disgrace has arrived.”

A young man approached slowly from the direction of town. His noble attire, based in black, was decorated with blue motifs.

It contrasted sharply with Maenof and the others, who were tightly armored.

“Zeke-san! Over here!”

Ciel smiled as if a flower had bloomed when she saw him. Veins bulged on Maenof’s forehead at the sight.

“Lagias! Who do you think you are, showing up late?!”

“…Who are you? I don’t need anyone seeing me off.”

“!?W-who’s seeing you off?! I’m the captain of the Duke Guard!”

“What is that? If you want to indulge your delusions, do it somewhere else. Get lost.”

Zeke greeted him with merciless abuse. First meeting or not made no difference.

“You dare mock us?! We are the dedicated knight order that has protected the ducal house time and time again!”

“Hah. You say strange things. In Apion, you had only two people, didn’t you? Is groveling your tradition? Pathetic.”

“Ghh—! You base Lagias cur. The Protocol family is a distant branch of the royal line! Do you think you’ll live to see tomorrow after insulting me, the captain of the Duke Guard?!”

“I see… you’re glorious. You’re the best.”

Expressionless, Zeke offered praise and even applauded while staring at Maenof. He was obviously making fun of him.

“—!?Don’t think this ends here! And there’s no carriage for you here! Run and keep up!”

Maenof thrust a triumphant grin at Zeke. Zeke’s face remained blank.

“Of course. Sharing a space with trash like you is impossible.”

Ahead of Zeke stood a carriage separate from the ducal house’s. An extravagant carriage emblazoned with the Lagias crest stood out like a sore thumb—an ultra-luxury carriage lavishly funded by his adventurer earnings.

Maenof gaped in shock, his mouth hanging open.

“Driver. Follow those carriages however you like.”

“Yes! My Lord! Observe my reinsmanship!”

The person shouting from the driver’s seat struck a pose with whips in both hands.

“W-what?! You’re Aaron-sama of the Marquis Izosaar House?!”

“Hm? I am, but who are you?”

Maenof stared slack-jawed. Zeke, though expressionless, was just as surprised.

“…What are you doing? I’ll kill you.”

“Was that a surprise? There’s nothing strange about it. You hired an adventurer to serve as driver, and the one dispatched was this F-rank Adventurer, Aaron Izosaar!”

Aaron declared it proudly, but F-rank was what beginners received. It was hardly something to boast about.

“You’re a bit loud, Mr. Driver. …Still, I’m impressed. I didn’t know a carriage this comfortable existed.”

Selen leaned out the window. Even before the owner boarded, she spoke as if it were hers. Seeing that, Ciel hurried to climb into Zeke’s carriage as well. The cast was in full traffic jam.

Under a cloudless, bright blue sky, multiple horses and carriages moved along.

The ducal house carriages advanced down the highway, knights surrounding them as protection. And at the very back rode Zeke’s luxury carriage. Passing peddlers gawked with wide eyes.

“Marvelous! What a perfect day for an adventure!”

“…Don’t make noise. I’ll fire you.”

Aaron’s booming voice carried in through the window they’d opened for ventilation. He kept shouting “Higher!” for no reason; no matter how many times he was warned, nothing changed.

“Still, was it really okay to kick the ladies out? I remember Lady Ciel being the key point this time.”

“If the enemy targets us, it’ll be during travel. I’m not letting them damage my carriage for their convenience.”

“I see… let’s go with that, then.”

The Lagias crest was engraved openly and proudly. If the force that attacked Apion and the royal capital bore hatred toward Zeke, there was no doubt. Aaron interpreted it as Zeke distancing the two women because the first strike might come.

In reality, it was very different: Hiroto simply didn’t want to share the same space with them.

Spending time in a sealed carriage with people who might resent you was dangerous. It was better to be cautious.

“Another thing that bothers me… is that man with the unique bangs.”

“That tasteless little runt? I was thinking of ripping them off. He’s irritating.”

“That’s intense. …To him, it’s probably a symbol of pride—silver hair and sacred arts. Even if he can only use a tiny amount, that is.”

Zeke spat that it was a warped country, as always.

Even without seeing his face, Aaron could tell from his tone that he was in a bad mood. For all his foul mouth and manners, he still thought about the people and the nation’s future. Aaron pitied him, thinking that those who dismissed Zeke just because he was a Lagias would someday regret it.

“Hm? Looks like a first attack. Which one will it be?”

“A flock of Rochebirds. …There should’ve been some adventurers who failed to hunt them the other day. These must be the leftovers.”

The knights at the front had engaged. The bird-like monsters looked like flying rocks; they weren’t opponents an ordinary sword could handle.

“They’re taking on that many Rochebirds with swords? Can’t they use magic?”

“Either they’re trying to conserve mana or they’re posturing. Either way, it’s stupid.”

A knight took a charge head-on and got blown back. The commander grew unsteady. They wouldn’t lose, but it was easy to predict the fight would drag on.

“Want to help? Wasting time on mere monsters is nonsense.”

“No need. —Don’t take your eyes off that woman.”

The one who stepped down from the carriage was Selen, Ciel’s escort.

With a natural motion, she drew her weapons from her holsters. Long barrels, sturdy build. In her hands were clear blue magic guns the same color as her hair.

“That’s… a magic gun. Unlike ordinary firearms, magic guns also demand magical aptitude. And she’s handling two at once?”

“That Actol (the schemer) wouldn’t attach a foreign escort for no reason.”

Selen quietly aimed. No special motion was needed. She just pulled the trigger.

What fired from the magic gun were water bullets. Precisely controlled, high-pressure compressed pellets pierced every target without missing.

In that instant, the Rochebirds died and dropped to the ground. The surrounding knights were too slow to understand what had happened and stared blankly.

Selen holstered the magic guns. Uninterested, she glanced toward the knights and the monsters now reduced to corpses. At the same time, she seemed to mutter something, and the knights bristled with anger.

“I see. A former noble lady of the Kingdom of Anishing. It seems it isn’t only her looks that are impressive.”

“Don’t take your eyes off her. And don’t take them off the ducal-house woman either.”

Just before turning back to the carriage, Selen pivoted to face Zeke and the others.

She pointed her index finger and raised her thumb. Her “aim” was fixed squarely on Zeke.

—Bang

As if her shot had hit perfectly, she blew gently at the “barrel” and lowered her hand.

Her quiet smile called to mind a sky full of stars glittering in the night.

Satisfied, Selen returned to the carriage.

“Bravo! That was rather passionate, wasn’t it?”

“…………”