v2c1 - 4

Alberic Gillette embodied knighthood from birth.

The Gillette family had long been renowned as a martial lineage—and naturally, from a young age, Alberic was raised with instruction in noble etiquette and fundamental education alongside rigorous martial training. He believed without the slightest doubt that when he came of age, he too would stand on the battlefield.  

But… before he could experience his first battle, the war ended.  

Thus, he knew nothing of actual combat.  

Initially, he didn’t think much of it. He understood, rationally, that peace was a good thing, and without war taxes, the populace could prosper. He recognized it as something to be celebrated.  

When he was assigned to the 〈Kleemann〉 Agency by royal decree, he saw it as a noble and splendid duty to protect peace. He didn’t for a moment think, as many claimed, that he’d been “shunted aside” as a nuisance. Blessed with congenial comrades, he found the work fulfilling.  

In that sense, Alberic was, indeed, embodied knighthood from birth.

For better or worse, once he chose whom to serve, he pressed forward with his duties without hesitation. Suppressing doubts, stifling complaints, and replacing them with pride—this was a quintessentially knightly mindset.  

But…  

““Plunge this hard-won era of peace back into the vortex of war? —Sounds great to me.”

The words of that saboteur he’d met the other day still clung to his mind, refusing to fade.  

What is this guy talking about?—he’d thought in that moment.  

He couldn’t believe there was someone who would deny the hard-won peace.  

But…  

(—The saboteurs, too, are the same, aren’t they?)  

Now, he found himself thinking such things from time to time.  

Though their status and nature differed from knights, saboteurs were also people raised from birth to be soldiers. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say their very purpose in life lay on the battlefield.  

But the war had ended.  

Moreover, he’d heard that saboteurs, feared by rulers for potentially inciting conspiracies or rebellions, had their villages razed entirely. They, too, might have woken one day to find everything they’d built deemed “no longer necessary.”  

No. It wasn’t limited to knights or saboteurs. There must be many such people.  

After all, the war had lasted centuries. Everyone—every single person—had likely planned their future assuming the war would continue, building their livelihoods around it. It was only natural that some would be left adrift when it ended abruptly.  

Alberic still had the power and wealth to stand on the side of the rulers.  

But if he hadn’t, what would have become of him?  

Pondering such things—Alberic walked on.  

“—Gillette-sama.”  

“Hm? What is it?”  

Called by the voice, Alberic turned to his companion.  

At the moment having finished visiting the vehicle merchant—Alberic and his group were walking through the city streets, heading back to their mobile base, the large mechanized vehicle April.  

Looking around, he noticed a fair amount of foot traffic on the streets, with a few stalls scattered here and there. This seemed to be a relatively lively city. A gift of peace—Alberic thought to himself, as if to reinforce the idea.  

“You seemed deep in thought. Is something troubling you?”  

The question came from a petite girl wearing glasses.  

Zita Brusasco.

One of the Gillette Corps’ members and an exceptional mage.  

“No, it’s nothing significant.” Alberic replied with a gentle smile, masking his thoughts. “More importantly, Zita. With this, we’ve covered all the notable cities, haven’t we?”  

Chaika Gaz and her apparent saboteur accomplices… They’d visited every city within a week’s travel distance, assuming the group was moving on foot or by shared carriage.  

They’d stopped at every vehicle merchant—dealing in mechanized vehicles, carriages, or oxcarts, gathering information, but there was no sign yet that Chaika’s group had acquired a vehicle. They’d left descriptions of Chaika and the saboteurs at each merchant, so if they tried to purchase a vehicle, the 〈Kleemann〉 Agency would be notified immediately.  

For now, they’d cut off their means of movement.  

All that remained was to wait for them to fall into the trap—or so it should have been.  

“What do you think? Are we overlooking anything?”  

“Well…”  Zita tilted her head. “I don’t know much about carriages, but as for mechanized vehicles, I’m a bit concerned that we couldn’t investigate sales at the component level. Still… assembling an entire vehicle from parts would be impossible, wouldn’t it? Even if they managed it, it would take considerable time. They’d need a workshop, too.”  

Zita said.  

As previously mentioned, she was a mage. However, her raw magical ability—her mana capacity or the sharpness of her magical “senses”—wasn’t particularly high. Matteus, another member of the Gillette Corps, surpassed her in raw magical prowess.  

But when it came to the maintenance, design, or repair of magical devices like Gundos or mechanized vehicles, the story changed.  

Zita was not only a mage but also a skilled mechanic versed in all manner of machinery. In fact, her magical abilities were primarily used to test the functionality of the Gundos or similar magical devices she maintained, repaired, or designed.  

Furthermore, Zita could service magical swords, making her an indispensable member of the Gillette Corps despite her near-total lack of combat ability.  

“So long as the merchants don’t lie or get bribed with money or hostages, we’ve effectively cut off the Demon King’s daughter’s mobility… But if this Demon King’s daughter has other allies we don’t have information about, they could procure a vehicle—mechanized or otherwise—from outside our search range and come to pick her up, couldn’t they?”  

“As far as we know, no other accomplices besides those saboteurs have been identified.”  

“But—” Zita furrowed her brow. “At a fundamental level… how has she survived these past five years?”  

“…”  

It was, in truth, something Alberic had wondered about as well.  

When Emperor Arthur Gaz was slain, the Gaz Empire’s capital was surrounded by the armies of various nations, and the castle itself was so besieged by soldiers that, quite literally, not even a kitten could have slipped through.  

How, then, had this Chaika Gaz escaped, and how had she survived these five years?  

From her appearance, Chaika seemed to be in her mid-teens, which would mean she fled the castle at around ten years old. No matter how resilient or cunning, it was hard to imagine a girl of that age, with such distinctive features, surviving alone—undetected, without starving in the wild or being captured and sold by slavers.  

There must have been someone who helped her escape the castle.  

But—then why wasn’t that person with her now?  

Had they died along the way? Or abandoned Chaika and fled?  

“Well, that’s assuming she’s the real Chaika Gaz, of course.”  

Zita added.  

Alberic, of course, knew of the impostors claiming to be Chaika Gaz.  

And the broader question—whether Arthur Gaz even had a daughter at all.  

The name of the 〈Taboo Emperor〉 was known across the continent, but almost nothing was known about Arthur Gaz’s personal life. Where and when was he born? Did he have a family? Even such basic details were shrouded in mystery. Official records didn’t even mention an empress.  

“Something feels off, doesn’t it?”  

Zita said.  

“You think she’s a fake?”  

“More like… how do I put it… I feel like we’re misunderstanding something fundamental here.”  

“A misunderstanding… hm.”  

Alberic crossed his arms, murmuring.  

A fundamental misunderstanding.  

Right and wrong, good and evil, Holy and profane, Light and shadow, Fire and water.  

They were opposites, yet strikingly similar in how they stood out. That’s why they were often mistaken—and those who made the mistake often lost sight of the essence of things.  

“Indeed.”  

In his mind’s eye, he saw the image of that girl, Chaika Gaz.  

A delicate, refined silver-haired girl.  

Though he’d said as much to the saboteur himself—truth be told, Alberic found it hard to imagine this Chaika Gaz as the “successor to the Demon King.”  

Yet, on the other hand, the girl named Chaika Gaz was shrouded in too many mysteries.  

Something about this situation felt like it involved someone’s hidden agenda, separate from the surface details.  

But what that agenda was—or whose it was—he couldn’t tell.  

“…”  

The saboteur’s face flashed through Alberic’s mind again.  

For the first time, this earnest knight began to question his own mission. Of course, it would take time for that doubt to fully take shape.

Toru felt an unpleasant sweat trickle down his back.  

(—What is this guy?)  

Before him stood the boy who called himself Guy.  

He extended a hand, as if offering a handshake.  

There was no trace of hostility in his demeanor. His expression was a gentle smile—and his physique, at a glance, was clearly immature, with the delicate frailty of someone whose muscles and frame were still developing. There wasn’t the slightest hint of the imposing menace that would instill a sense of direct threat.  

And yet—  

(…I’m…)  

He was afraid.  

Even facing him like this, Toru couldn’t sense his presence. No, that wasn’t quite right—there was a presence, but it was utterly alien, as if he weren’t facing a human at all.  

As a saboteur trained in combat techniques, Toru had a certain habit.  

When facing a person, he instinctively gauged their breathing, searched for openings, and considered—half-unconsciously—how to take them down. Even if the opponent was superior in skill, that was no issue. No matter how formidable a warrior, a surprise attack could fell them with a single needle prick from a child. If carelessness was their weakness, he’d devise a way to exploit it.  

In essence, it was about mentally stacking the steps needed to achieve the final result of defeating the opponent.  

But—  

(…I can’t figure it out…)  

He had no idea what to do or how to approach it.  

It was as if he were facing a human-shaped mass of air or water… and he couldn’t even understand why he perceived this boy named Guy in such a way.  

To Toru, this was an entirely new kind of opponent.  

A swelling sense of unease surged within him.  

“I’m—”  

Guy, still holding out his hand as Analogous to a handshake, took a step closer.  

In response, Toru—  

“…!”  

—Before he realized it, he’d drawn and swung his shortsword with his right hand.  

Stepping forward, he used the sheath’s momentum to accelerate the blade—a flawless strike tracing a path from the flank to the right shoulder, devoid of any waste. It was a blow so perfect even he couldn’t help but admire it. Against an ordinary human, it would have sliced open their side, leading to death. Even a master would struggle to dodge it, though they might block it.  

A merciless—lethal technique.  

Far too reckless an attack to unleash on a stranger whose allegiance was unclear. If asked whether he’d lost his mind, Toru would have had no answer. What drove him was an instinctual fear of the unknown.  

“—!?”  

Toru’s body lurched forward with excess momentum.  

The blade sliced through empty air.  

The boy—who had undoubtedly been there until the moment Toru swung, whose flesh the blade should have undeniably bitten into—had vanished like a fleeting shadow.  

Or perhaps the Guy Toru saw at the moment the blade reached was merely an afterimage.  

“…No...way.”  

Feeling an alien presence behind him, Toru spun around.  

There—Guy stood.  

As if he’d been standing there from the start, not a breath out of place, perfectly calm.  

Impossible. Absolutely impossible.  

High-speed movement leaving an afterimage wasn’t entirely out of the question. Using Iron-Blood Transformation to explosively boost physical ability, Toru himself could manage it.  

But… that was only for linear movement.  

Curved movement, like circling behind an opponent, was far less feasible due to the issues of acceleration and deceleration. It was the same principle as a carriage or mechanized vehicle overturning if it tried to turn a corner without slowing down.  

Yet Guy had easily pulled it off.  

In this narrow alley, barely wide enough for two to pass.  

“Now, now.” Guy laughed brightly, unfazed. “‘No way’ is my line. What was that, all of a sudden?”  

He showed no sign of being offended. Nor did he gloat about dodging Toru’s strike. Without even bracing himself again, he simply gazed at Toru with an amused smile.  

“Could it be you sensed something?”  

“What?”  

“If so, she really picked up quite a find.”  

The “she” was likely Chaika.  

His phrasing made it sound as if Toru were some kind of object—but—  

“Oh, right. We were talking about who I am.”  With a mischievous, childlike chuckle, Guy said...

“Let’s see… To put it as simply as possible, I’m Chaika Gaz’s ally. If you can’t believe that, think of me as someone betting on her success.”  

“…Don’t mess with me.” Toru growled. “An ally you say? If she had someone like you, Chaika wouldn’t have needed to hire us—”  

He stopped mid-sentence.  

(—Hold on, is this guy the one?)  

It hit him.  

Could this Guy be the informant Chaika had mentioned back then?  

“My apologise, but—I can’t directly lend you a hand. I’ve got my own circumstances, you see. All I can do is provide information. The actual action falls to Chaika and her companions—you guys.”  

“…”  

Toru narrowed his eyes, glaring at Guy.  

Providing information but refusing to assist with any actual action.  

That sounded less like an ally and more like—  

(He’s just manipulating us for his own ends, isn’t he?)  

Even among those hoping for the Gaz Empire’s revival, not all would necessarily revere the Demon King’s heir or aim to place Chaika on the throne.  

Some might instead be scheming to use Chaika as a puppet, ultimately seizing the throne—or its power—for their own.  

“You expect us to trust information from someone like that?”  

“That choice is your prerogative. I only provide, whether you really accept or reject it is up to you. If I forced you, that would count as me taking action, wouldn’t it?”  

His roundabout, cryptic way of speaking.  

It wasn’t about ability or inability—it was as if there were some kind of “rule” he was bound by.  

“Assuming you are that ally…” Toru said, sliding his short swords back into its sheath. “Why reveal yourself to me?”  

“Simply because you seemed to be in trouble.”  

Guy flashed a friendly smile as he replied.  

“…What?”  

“You’re struggling to find a ‘means of movement,’ right?”  

“…”  

That was true but—  

“You’re saying you’ll provide one?”  

“No, no. As I said, I only provide information.”  

Guy shook his head with a somewhat theatrical gesture.  

Then, the enigmatic boy turned to look off in a random direction, narrowing his eyes slightly.  

“If you leave this city and head a bit south, there’s a forest, isn’t there?”  

Indeed, there was a forest south of Ipsom.  

Always keeping track of the surrounding terrain—a basic principle on the battlefield.  

“Deep in that forest, there’s a small spring. By its edge, you’ll find a few mechanized vehicles.”  

“…What?”  

“You saw that reddish-brown wasteland before coming to this city, right? About thirty years ago, there was a fairly large battle here. Some military mechanized vehicles used in that fight were abandoned in the forest. Seems the soldiers fled on foot during a retreat when the vehicles broke down. Since they’re the same model, you might be able to swap out still-functional parts between them and repair one to working condition.”  

“…”  

Toru… couldn’t discern Guy’s true intentions.  

He wasn’t an enemy, at least not for now.  

If he harbored any ill intent toward Toru, Akari, or Chaika, he wouldn’t bother with this conversation—he could have just attacked. A foe who could so effortlessly get behind Toru without him countering could surely take down Akari with a surprise attack.  

“Chaika… said something.” Toru said, still glaring at Guy. “Someone who shows up now and then, giving her information about the ‘keepsakes.’ That’s you, isn’t it?”  

“That’s correct.” Guy admitted it readily. “Oh, that reminds me. One more thing while we’re at it. I’ve learned the name and whereabouts of one of the <heroes> from the Gaz Empire capital siege.”  

Pointing eastward, Guy continued...

“Two days’ travel by mechanized vehicle east from here, there’s another forest, different from the one I mentioned. She’s made her home there.”  

“Two days… near Ratison City, then.”  

Toru said, mentally recalling a map of the region.  

“Exactly. The ‘hero’s’ name is Dominica Skoda. Once you get a mechanized vehicle, you should pay her a visit.”  

“Thanks for the courtesy.”  

Toru replied with a scowl.  

“Well, that’s all from me.”  

Guy announced, placing a hand on his chest and giving a flamboyant bow. In the next instant—his figure vanished.  

“What kind of trick is that…?”  

Toru muttered, stunned.  

It wasn’t a figure of speech. He hadn’t taken his eyes off Guy for a single moment. Yet, as if the boy had never been there at all—Guy disappeared without leaving a trace.  

Could it have been some kind of illusion?  

There were spells that could create illusions, and he’d heard of machines that projected images using lenses or similar mechanisms without magic—but Guy had definitely had a presence, albeit an alien one.  

“What the hell was that…?”  

But now wasn’t the time to dwell on Guy’s true nature.  

Toru broke into a run toward the inn once more.