315

Chapter 315: If Only I Could (1)

Deathbringer narrowed his eyes at the sound of someone descending, then drew his brows together when a foot became the first thing visible from his angle.

From the shape of the boot, he recognized the person coming down as the old geezer.

But the face that soon appeared was not as wrecked as he had imagined. More precisely, the skin around Daniel’s eyes was red and swollen as though he had been bawling, but it was still not the worst possibility Deathbringer had imagined, so he felt relieved.

Honestly, given the relationship between those two, it would not have been especially strange for Daniel to come down with blood on his cheek.

Of course, understanding and emotion were separate things. Had there truly been blood on his cheek, Deathbringer would immediately have thrown the Impurity Sword. All the more so now that he knew the Demon Knight’s circumstances.

The Demon Knight—at the very least, the Demon Knight as he was now—had done nothing wrong. All the fault lay with the bastard who had dragged Sir Demon Knight here as he pleased and the damned demon who had caused everything in the first place!

“Go up. He is all right.”

Still, judging by what Daniel said, things seemed to have worked themselves out somehow. Feeling genuine relief at that, Deathbringer raced up the watchtower. He moved fast enough that, with slight exaggeration, anyone watching might have marveled that his feet were invisible.

“Sir!”

But his swift pace abruptly slowed when he reached the edge of the watchtower. Difficult though it was to believe, the Demon Knight’s cheek was wet.

Deathbringer stopped awkwardly, realizing anew how much the Demon Knight had changed. He had no intention of denying the man’s identity merely because this was not the personality he knew… but it still felt uncomfortable.

Half his body hanging through the watchtower entrance, Deathbringer cautiously studied the Demon Knight’s mood.

“…May I come closer?”

At the timid question, the Demon Knight smiled as though grimacing. It was such a faint and awkward smile that someone might have thought he was frowning.

“I do not mind.”

“Really…?”

“Yes.”

Wow. I can’t get used to this at all.

Deathbringer felt goose bumps rise across his skin. Not because he disliked it, but because it felt so unfamiliar. His steps crept toward the Demon Knight.

“…Um, Sir. You look somewhat tired.”

“Who knows….”

By then, he noticed other things besides the wet cheek. The man’s eyes were gloomier than usual. His expression was neither lost in thought, nor stiff, nor exactly unpleasant, but instead a blankness of a slightly different kind. A thin line of blood marked his ear. Things like that.

“If I say I’m tired, will you call me a demon like last time?”

“Wh-when did I ever do that?!”

“Perhaps on the gunwale?”

But before Deathbringer could read anything into those details, the Demon Knight wore a dim smile. It was no dramatic transformation—the corners of his mouth merely rose slightly—yet somehow, it made his impression appear much gentler.

“…I won’t do that.”

“Is that so?”

“I absolutely won’t.”

Even so, whatever Deathbringer needed to read did not disappear. Knowing that, he concentrated more closely.

“Then you won’t complain if I close my eyes for a while?”

『Please stop calling me an old geezer.』

Suddenly, the owner of a voice he did not particularly like overlapped the Demon Knight’s gray figure.

Deathbringer’s throat abruptly closed.

“…Of course.”

Why had he thought of that bastard? Because their colors overlapped? Or because Deathbringer had met him only moments earlier? But other than the color of their hair, the Demon Knight and that old geezer had nothing in common….

Watching the Demon Knight’s eyelids slowly close, Deathbringer’s stomach suddenly lurched. He felt as though he had missed something… something important, something he absolutely must never have missed.

Rustle.

In the meantime, the Demon Knight closed his eyes completely. It was not a common sight. He was not someone who slept defenselessly in a public place.

“Sir.”

“…….”

Feeling anew how much times had changed, Deathbringer searched through his belongings. His heart had lurched, and the discomfort that caused it certainly bothered him, but he did not want to make the Demon Knight sleep without so much as bedding.

“Uh….”

But the blanket was gone. More precisely, while they returned to the city, all the belongings had ended up inside the Demon Knight’s magic bag.

Deathbringer’s lips gathered into a triangle.

“This is a disaster.”

Only the Demon Knight could use his magic bag. Deathbringer could stick his hand inside it for a hundred days without ever seizing his belongings.

That meant the only thing he could do was offer the cloak he currently wore… Deathbringer cautiously examined its lining. He saw the Inquisitor’s snot dried thickly across it. He had been forced to wear it because they had to cross the desert, there was no one from whom he could borrow another cloak, and the mucus had at least dried.

“…….”

Should he cover his idol with the outer surface of the cloak, filled with dust and grime, or with the lining encrusted in dried snot?

Deathbringer fell into the greatest dilemma of his life.

“Still?”

When the sun that had passed its zenith finally touched the horizon, Gunter blinked at the soldier’s report. It concerned someone who had shown no intention of descending after climbing the watchtower.

“Um, shall I wake him and bring him here?”

“No. Do not do that.”

The man who had defeated a Great Demon was entitled to sleep a little longer. Was there truly any need to wake him?

With that thought, Gunter waved a hand slightly, then glanced at the sun, which had nearly set. There was no need to wake him, but it would probably be better to change where he slept.

His thinking shifted slightly. In his view—and realistically as well—the watchtower was no good place to sleep.

“Instead, deliver this message. Tell him we can offer him one of the castle’s vacant rooms and ask whether he would like to move there. We can postpone the conversation until tomorrow.”

And so he thought of a new proposal.

Was it not already too late in the day for a conversation? Gunter himself had exhausted all his strength by running in every direction throughout the day and was in no condition to talk.

If it was already late, would it not be better for everyone to rest comfortably and postpone matters until tomorrow? Gunter offered the opinion in the name of efficiency and reason. Whether the Temple would agree was uncertain, but judging by the current bishop’s disposition, it seemed likely.

“Yes. Is that all I should deliver?”

“Surely not. Speak to the steward on your way out as well.”

He could not be certain whether the man would move into the castle. But if he did, it was right to prepare so he could go there immediately.

“Prepare the Gray Tin Room… No. Prepare the White Silver Room, and if the guest arrives later, guide him there so he can rest immediately. White Silver, not White Copper. Do not confuse them.”

Gunter wanted to offer even the Platinum or Pure Gold Room, but each of those two rooms had a problem.

And so he offered the finest room after those two. Its natural light was somewhat poor, but it was cozy, and no sandy wind entered.

“Now hurry.”

“Yes.”

Damn it, if the Platinum Room hadn’t belonged to the damned former Lord, I would have offered that one.

Gunter considered withdrawing his order even now, then decided that the hero had committed no crime that should force him to use a room belonging to that piece of trash.

The fact that countless people would object in the name of tradition if he truly offered it also contributed to his resignation. Already exhausted, Gunter was not confident he could endure all that nonsense too.

“I’m surprised. I thought you would object.”

But even offering the White Silver Room would not allow him to avoid all that nonsense. If Platinum belonged to the Lord, Pure Gold belonged to the Lord’s companion, and White Silver was the place used by the heir from generation to generation.

“It was the Young Lord’s decision. I have no complaint.”

“I agree.”

Contrary to Gunter’s expectations, however, the two knights beside him answered differently. His gaze turned inscrutable.

“Spare me the talk of obedience and loyalty. I haven’t even had an inauguration yet.”

“Empty formalities do not determine the Young Lord’s posi—”

“Do they not? Truly?”

Well, strictly speaking, perhaps it was not entirely strange. By the time someone became a chief knight, even the most straightforward person naturally opened their eyes to politics.

A Lord incapable of controlling even a single knight saw his authority shaken. With the former Lord, an absolute ruler, now dead, these knights had no choice but to demonstrate their loyalty, if only for the sake of the city.

“There is no one here but us. Why don’t you speak frankly?”

“I am sincere.”

“That’s how you intend to be?”

Of course, with no one here besides them, there would have been no problem in showing a little resistance… Considering the two had generally been favorable toward him, their responses could perhaps be accepted as expressions of respect.

“I will ask one last time. Do you truly have no complaint?”

He could accept it.

He could not believe it.

Gunter’s judgment was never perfect.

“…I do not like it. But I think it is the best choice.”

“Yes. I thought so. Then what about you, Knight Sapphire?”

“…I also agree that it is the best choice. I have some concerns, but that is something we must accept.”

“I see….”

Look. Once again, the answer did not fit perfectly.

Gunter slumped back in the chair where he sat. It was criticism he had forced from them, but his heart felt more at ease. 『You are… Never mind. Even the time it would take to speak is wasted on you.』 In one sense, the very existence of criticism meant there was at least room to improve.

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“I’m sorry.”

Even so, he knew this act itself was not right. A Lord, of all people, lacking confidence in his own choices was a clear sign of incompetence. That went without saying.

“For putting someone like this above you.”

“That is not true.”

“How can you say such a thing?”

But how could he endure without behaving this way? He was too much of an idiot to possess confidence in himself. How could he simply force his will through?

“Today, the Young Lord performed the role of acting Lord perfectly.”

“Perfectly…? You say that even after so many people screamed?”

“Not everyone can survive. It would have been the same even if the former Lord were alive. The decisions you made were clearly the best that could be made in those moments.”

Gunter gave a hollow laugh at the knight comforting him. Best. That was the former Lord’s most hated word. All the more because the former Lord himself had been the sole best for this position.

“This is not a position where one merely does one’s best. It is one in which one must make the best choice.”

“Young Lord, no human can make the best choice every ti—”

“Absolutely not. I know. But will the residents say the same?”

Honestly, Gunter thought he had done everything he could today. He had not fled, had not frozen in terror and trembled, and despite his failing strength, he had remained in his place until this very moment. Who could claim he had not tried?

“You know how bad my image is among the soldiers and residents.”

But his effort—his best—could not resolve everything. That was the problem.

In this position, results ultimately mattered more than the process.

“The Young Lord who gets scolded every day. The Young Lord who fails despite trying. The Young Lord who is pitiable but clearly lacks ability…. Of course, I partially agree with those opinions. A man who is emotional and lacks confidence is unquestionably unsuited to serve as Lord. But everyone knowing it is different from only me knowing it, is it not?”

“…The people witnessed the Young Lord’s accomplishments as well.”

“They did. But they won’t continue remembering them forever.”

The soldiers and residents had followed his orders well today. But that was only because one shocking event after another had left them dazed, not because they sincerely trusted and followed him.

Once they recovered their senses, they would slowly begin to doubt him.

“Before long, people will certainly begin talking. They’ll ask whether an incompetent idiot like me should stand above everyone when the city’s survival is at stake. Whether someone more reliable should take the position instead.”

“The Young Lord is not incompetent! Today alone…!”

“But I am inferior to the former Lord. Am I not?”

“That is…!”

“Those left behind are always compared to those who departed. Just as all of you were endlessly compared to Amber.”

It was unreasonable, but true. He did not choose to be incompetent, yet his ability was arbitrarily placed on the tribunal and judged. The more excellent his predecessor, the stricter the standard became.

“Of course, given the position, that truly cannot be helped….”

But something being unavoidable did not mean one could overcome it. Gunter wanted desperately to stop now. To escape the words that had bound him for his entire life. Please.

“That is true. But Young Lord, even so, do not think of stepping down.”

But as though reading his heart, Knight Sapphire blocked the path with uncanny precision. Knight Topaz, who was less perceptive than Sapphire, looked startled.

“Young Lord?”

“…Why? Why can I not? Everyone will doubt my ability anyway. Would it not be better to put someone else forward? Wouldn’t both of you find it easier to have someone more capable above you rather than an idiot like me?”

The self-hatred that had accumulated layer by layer throughout his life poured out like a breached dam. After living through the most terrible day in Muenmunt’s history, the torrent was fiercer still.

Gunter did not want to remain in this dreadful position for even another moment. The burden was too much.

“Every human possesses the wisdom to find the righteous path through darkness. It is merely that many have yet to discover it.”

But the moment Knight Sapphire recited that passage, Gunter clenched his teeth.

“‘Therefore, we must become the first guides leading them toward that wisdom.’ Those are Knight Amber’s words.”

“Knight Sapphire.”

“Yet, Young Lord, though you respected him so deeply, do you intend not to uphold the words he left behind?”

“You truly are….”

“Will you truly do so?”

“The worst person in Muenmunt.”

The knight had dared threaten him with something more precious than life, so Gunter had no choice but to express his anger that way.

“Knight, I truly hate you.”

“…I apologize.”

“You always pretend to act for my sake while ensuring that I can never escape this position. I suppose that is only natural when what matters to you is that I am the Young Lord.”

“Young Lord, that is not….”

“But yes. You are right.”

How miserable. Looking at the cord of words that bound him to the position he hated most, Gunter muttered inwardly. It truly was miserable.

“I cannot defy his words. I cannot defy the words he left behind.”

It was the most… miserable love in the world.

“Young Lord.”

“Knight Sapphire, take my place for the next hour. After humiliating me this thoroughly, surely you will not say you cannot even do that?”

“…If you intend to go outside, at least take Knight Topaz with you.”

“There is no need. I have no intention of leaving the castle.”

Far from leaving the castle, he was simply going back to his room.

Gunter left the room, abandoning the two chief knights. Across the corridor, he could see the office currently serving as the temporary integrated command room, but forced himself to ignore it. Knight Sapphire would take his place for the next hour.

“My room—ah.”

But when he entered the corridor containing his room, Gunter remembered a fact he had forgotten. The White Silver Room, which had originally been his, had now been offered to the guest.

I’ll have to go back. Thinking of the guest room’s location, he reversed the steps he had taken along the corridor. If he was going to remember, he should have done so a little earlier. Why recall it only after arriving right in front of the room? The sentence he forced himself to think lightly failed to hide his sorrow completely.

Step, step.

His feet retraced the corridor with a limp. In the hallway, where the candle he carried was the only source of light, orange illumination flickered with every step.

Rustle.

Then another ray of light was added to that dark path. It began as a thin line and grew wider at a slanted angle.

“……?”

Gunter’s head turned behind him without thought.

“…Pasha?”

He saw a face he had longed for.