Chapter 23: A Cruel Technique IV

As night fell over Sand Castle in the capital of Aventurine, someone knocked outside the door of Queen Faye’s private chambers.

“Come in,” she said.

“…Please excuse me.”

Eki, the elderly prime minister who’d served since the previous generation, entered the room with quiet grace. Despite being almost eighty years old, Eki still participated in the minutia of governance, as he had no clear successor. Lately, his appearances in the castle had been sporadic. However, because he’d needed to make important decisions today, he’d arrived this morning, taking care of routine tasks and other matters.

Not minding Eki’s presence, Faye smeared a mud mask on her face. “I’be taken care ob eberything necessary, haben’t I?”

Not wanting to create wrinkles in the mud mask, Faye tried to speak without moving her mouth. As a result, she sounded rather foolish.

“Princess,” said the prime minister. “We’ve had an… unexpected visitor.”

Eki had been close to Faye since her childhood. Even though Faye had inherited the throne, Eki still – out of habit – referred to her as “Princess” from time to time. Regardless, she had no intention of rebuking him for this mistake.

“At this hour?” For one moment, Faye stopped applying the mud mask. Then, following a brief consideration, she began moving her hand once more. “I’ll meet with the visitor tomorrow.”

“No, that won’t do.”

For the first time, Faye felt in a sense of discomfort towards Eki’s restless, unfocused bearing. “What’s going on? Who is this visitor?”

Faye stopped moving her hand, turning towards Eki, who stood straight at attention.

“Your Highness, do you remember what you did to those Murakumo Squires six or seven days ago?”

“…Of course.”

In reality, she’d needed a moment to remember, but of course, she didn’t reveal that.

“Yes,” said the prime minister. “You gave a letter asking unreasonable demands – sorry, requests – of Murakumo to a young man.”

“Ah, yes. He was a rather strange looking man, if I recall correctly.”

“That young man has returned.”

Faye tilted her head. “Are you sure it’s him?”

“His appearance leaves a strong impression. As those who remembered the young man confirmed his identity, I have no doubts.”

“I see,” said Faye, unusually perplexed.

The queen remembered this young man whose friends she’d tortured, forcing him to deliver a letter. Though she’d set a time limit for his return, she hadn’t actually expected him to come back. With his life possibly in danger, she’d expected him to flee or report to his superiors. She hadn’t expected to see him again.

“Perhaps he wishes to die with his comrades,” said Faye. “Or he’s prepared a counterfeit response. Maybe he plans to curry favor with me through money and goods, asking for his companions back.”

As announced, Faye had planned on executing the Squires as entertainment during a festival. Adding one more person to the list of condemned wouldn’t be particularly inconvenient. No matter the outcome, it would merely result in the addition of one more useless commoner’s corpse.

“Pardon,” said Eki, “but the Squire is claiming to have brought a letter from Lord Gwen of Murakumo.”

“What?” said Faye, feeling disappointed. “He couldn’t think of a better lie? It’s been so long since Gwen has even replied to an official letter from Aventurine. Commoners are such foolish creatures. I know it would be pointless, but I assume you checked the contents of the letter.”

Eki shook his head. “No, he wants to give the letter directly to you. I wanted to ask for your decision on how to proceed. Right now, I’m having the young man wait under guard in the audience chamber.”

Standing straight up, Faye donned a thin, red cloak. “Alright, I’ll meet with him. I look forward to seeing his self-satisfied expression as he lies to me.”

“Wait,” said Eki. “Do you intend to go dressed like that?”

Since she’d already prepared for bed, Faye wasn’t fit for public appearances. She’d anointed her treasured, black hair in fragrant oil, donning a specialized, round hat. Face covered in a mud mask, she wore a thin, peach-colored nightgown. Objectively, her appearance was too strange even for a costume party. Even so, Faye hated looking at herself objectively.

“It’s fine,” she said. “He doesn’t seem like the sort to care about appearances.”

“Perhaps you should at least remove that mask from your face…”

“Never. This is skin beautifying mud from Iberis. It was expensive.”

Giving up on his warnings, Eki followed quietly behind Faye. As she left her room with a spring in her step, the queen’s anticipation towards this sudden and rare occurrence began to grow.

***

Clinging to a horse he hadn’t grown accustomed to riding, Shuou had arrived in the capital of Aventurine sometime after sunset. Upon explaining his situation to the guards, the elderly prime minister had received him, seeming shocked. Since Shuou had believed himself to be marching into enemy territory, the attitude of this prime minister during their first meeting had surprised him. Rather than being imposing, he’d listened to Shuou like a good-natured, old man hearing his grandson’s tale of hardship.

Following a brief conversation, Shuou had been led into the audience chamber: a place holding only unpleasant memories. The numerous furnishings – all in bad taste – hadn’t changed. Standing alone within this vast space, a wave of discomfort overcame him. However, upon seeing the dry cascade of sand within the hourglass, he felt relieved.

Time hadn’t run out yet.

Only a small amount of sand remained, but he had – as instructed – returned to Aventurine inside the time limit. Looking at the throne head on, the door to the inner left opened. Faye Aventurine appeared, leading the prime minister who’d sought various explanations from Shuou. In a word, the queen looked bizarre.

What is she planning?

Apart from her demeanor, she lacked grace, sitting down on the horizontally long throne and crossing her legs. The four Brights who followed afterwards stood beside the throne. Shuou recognized all of them. Two of their number – the woman and the hard-faced man – had led his party to Aventurine. All of them looked upon Shuou with condescending sneers. Despite finding that unpleasant, Shuou quietly accepted it.

Her face covered with something resembling mud, Faye began to speak, barely moving her mouth. “My, my, I didn’t think you’d actually come—”

The sound of heavy footfalls interrupted her. Prince Shue ran through the entrance to the audience chamber. Seeing Shuou, he appeared stunned.

“Y-You’re really here!?” the prince’s loud voice echoed throughout the room.

“Oh, bother,” said Faye. “Who told you about this, Shue? If you can stay silent, I’ll allow your attendance. Don’t say a word.”

The prince bit his lip as if he wanted to say something. However, he decided to remain subservient, standing beside his sister.

“Well, that killed the mood, but let’s carry on,” the queen continued. “You brought something, I’ve heard. Hand it over. Quickly now.”

“Before I give this to you…” Shuou withdrew the letter carefully stored in his pocket. “I want to make sure the two hostages are safe.”

The expressions of Faye’s personal Brights darkened. Presumably, they found Shuou – a mere commoner – presenting conditions to be unamusing.

“My, how pompous,” said Faye. “Very well, I’ll reward your courage in returning here.”

The queen instructed one of the Brights to bring out the prisoners. Like livestock, they soon appeared with ropes around their necks, hands tied behind their backs. The wounds Hinokaji had received from the Brights’ beating had turned into painful bruises, covering his face. Though Miyahi had no obvious injuries, she looked unbelievably haggard compared to the last time Shuou had seen her.

Immediately, they both noticed him. Tears welling in her eyes, Miyahi donned a weak smile. Rather than pleased, Hinokaji looked dismayed. After a mere seven days, the pair had become as emaciated as prisoners incarcerated for an entire year. Undoubtedly, they’d been given very little to eat.

“Are you satisfied?” asked Faye.

Her insensitive words raised Shuou hackles. When he held out the letter, one of the Brights stepped forward to receive it. However, Shuou ignored him, tossing the letter towards Faye, who lounged haughtily on the throne.

The well-aimed letter fell into Faye’s hands. “Oh!”

The Brights glared at Shuou, who longed to glare back at them.

Though Faye also seemed displeased with his attitude, her curiosity got the better of her. “Well, whatever. I wonder what on earth you’ve brought me.” Opening the tube, Faye withdrew the letter. Smirking, she looked over the simple paper, but as she confirmed its contents, her expression grew increasingly grim. “What is this?”

In response to her discomposed voice, everyone in the audience chamber focused on Faye.

“Your Highness, is something wrong?” asked Eki.

When the prime minister – who stood beside the throne – walked over to her, Faye thrust the letter towards him with a stern expression.

Narrowing his eyes, the prime minister pulled back his head to examine the contents. “Unbelievable…”

“You don’t think it’s real, do you?”

“The seal appears to be authentic. Also, these fluid brush strokes do look familiar.”

Faye bit her thumbnail out of frustration.

“What does it say!?” cried Prince Shue, who’d grown tired of waiting.

Faye stood up from her throne. “With the direct approval of Lord Gwen, we’ll be allowed to pay the delayed food taxations in installments.”

As the audience chamber stirred, Prince Shue’s eyes widened in astonishment. “You can’t be serious.”

Is this really so surprising? Shuou wondered, seeing their reactions.

“Explain this!” shouted Faye, pointing to Shuou.

Even so, he could only tilt his head. “Explain what?”

“For generations, Aventurine has attempted to negotiate with Murakumo on countless occasions. Within that history, how many times do you think Murakumo has listened to our demands? They haven’t acknowledged our pleas even once. So why have they offered us such favorable terms after I took two measly commoners hostage? I’m asking you for an explanation.”

“I gave your letter to someone in the capital and asked them to help save my comrades. That’s it.”

“Murakumo wouldn’t make such a monumental decision over something so trivial. There must be more. Yes, something behind the scenes must have—”

“Your Highness, there’s another letter in the container,” said the prime minister, interrupting Faye’s ranting.

Scanning the letter handed to her, relief washed over Faye’s features. “Ah, I see… Eki, you might find this hard to believe, but Duchess Adulelia appears to have a soft spot for this man.”

Receiving the letter and checking its contents, the prime minister muttered in astonishment. “How unexpected.”

“Yes, but now I understand,” said Faye. “You have a connection to Adulelia, don’t you?”

Shuou didn’t know precisely what the duchess had written in her letter. “I’m not sure what you—”

“Oh, you must know. Along with providing assurance of Lord Gwen’s contract, the duchess’s letter asks me to guarantee your safety, no matter what happens. If you had no relationship with her, the head of Adulelia wouldn’t have written such a letter for a mere Squire.”

She wrote that?

Despite being grateful, Amue’s failure to mention his two imprisoned comrades left Shuou dissatisfied. In all likelihood, she had no real interest in the lives of two Squires.

“Well, whatever,” said Faye. “In either case, the situation has changed dramatically.”

Taking Gwen’s letter and Amue’s message from the prime minister, the queen returned them to their original container.

“Let’s start over,” she said, throwing the letters at Shuou’s feet. “If I’d known my demands would be so easily met, I would have sought greater concessions. I’ll give you another seven days, so go cry to Adulelia once more.”

As the letters rolled upon the ground, producing a lifeless clunking sound, Shuou stared at the container in disbelief.

“Your Highness, you should be satisfied with these conditions,” said the prime minister, attempting to soothe his master. “Persuading Murakumo to compromise is more than we could have asked for. In our country’s current state, Lord Gwen’s proposal would be most appreciated. If you tarnish the name of Murakumo any further, they won’t overlook your behavior.”

Nevertheless, the egotistical queen paid him no heed.

“We’ve come too far to back down,” she said. “It’s clear that Murakumo doesn’t want this to turn into an ordeal. And anyway, when I see an exquisite jewel dangling in front of me, I can’t help but grab hold of it. We still have the edge here.” Faye then pointed to a dumbfounded Shuou. “I’ll give you a revised letter. Deliver it to Murakumo once more.”

Once more?

Had she ordered him to repeat the same thing all over again?

I refuse.

He’d required the help of many people to obtain those slips of paper lying in front of him. Gwen – who had the final say in this matter – didn’t want to intervene. Likewise, Amue had worked behind the scenes to provide Shuou with a way to save his comrades. And finally, two Squires had helped him escape Winter Fortress, abandoning their positions of safety to do so. Despite being mere objects, a great amount of effort and determination lay within those slips of paper. Disregarding everything, the queen of Aventurine had tossed those letters aside, ordering him to start over.

I won’t stand for it!

Anger boiled within Shuou. He could no longer repress the emotions within himself.

“I won’t stand for it.”

As Shuou spat out those words in a low voice, the air around him froze.

“…What did you just say?” Faye asked in off-kilter tone, as if she’d misheard him.

“I won’t stand for it,” said Shuou, raising his voice. “And I won’t start over either. Free my comrades at once.”

“What…?” Faye muttered, recoiling.

At once, a single Bright pressed in on Shuou. “Do you know to whom you’re speaking, you common swine!?”

As the Bright glowered at him, Shuou glared back with even greater fury. The Bright extended his left hand, grabbing Shuou’s collar. In response, Shuou twisted the Bright’s wrist upward, crouched down, and placed the man’s elbow on his shoulder. Using his shoulder as a fulcrum, Shuou mustered all his strength to force the man’s elbow in a seemingly impossible direction.

“Aa…aaaaah!”

Shuou felt the man’s bone being crushed, his arm dangling limply in the air. Trying to protect his left arm, the Bright collapsed, rolling on the floor and screaming.

So fragile, Shuou thought, looking down on him.

Over and over again, Amane had drilled numerous techniques into Shuou. Yet this was his first time actually testing them on another person. Shuou himself had experienced the pain of broken bones, the agony of joints twisted in the opposite direction. He understood the anguish of the Bright rolling around on the floor all too well.

In response to this sudden event, everyone fell silent, forgetting to even blink.

No taking back what I’ve done.

Shuou finally began to regain enough composure to realize what he’d done.

Even so.

Despite having brutalized a Squire of Aventurine, he felt surprisingly light of heart. Before, the breadth of the audience chamber had overwhelmed him, but now, he scanned the room once more.

Was it always this small?

Shuou had lived most of his life in the Abyss, yet this was merely a place created by man. The vastness of the room, the lavishness of the decorations meant nothing. This audience chamber was a mere box, its floors, walls, and ceiling designed to accommodate common sense. Shuou took a single breath, deep and slow. The sweet scent of perfumed oil passed through his nose, filling his lungs.

Until now, I hadn’t noticed the smell of the air in here.

He looked down upon writhing, moaning Bright.

When did I start thinking this way?

You mustn’t defy Brights. You must do as you’re told. You mustn’t offend the queen. Without realizing it, he’d driven a needless wedge of self-restraint into himself. Shuou glanced at Miyahi and Hinokaji, who were watching him dumbfoundedly. Upon seeing their light brown Squire uniforms, he came to a vague sense of realization.

Ever since I donned those clothes, my thinking began to change.

Since joining the military, he’d been forced to wear that uniform, the duties of a Squire imposed upon him. Unconsciously, he’d begun to play the role of a “new recruit”. Even when visiting an unknown land, he’d come to rely on Hinokaji – a senior officer – and neglected to be vigilant himself.

I could have done better.

Looking at the battered, exhausted figures of his two comrades, he felt regret towards his own actions, not anger towards the queen.

Their suffering is my fault.

Shuou looked at Faye with determination in his eyes. Behind her, the enormous hourglass continued to count the seconds. Like the endlessly flowing sand, time wouldn’t wait for him. During this brief period, he needed to formulate his next move. Could he persuade the queen to free his comrades and let the three of them leave the castle together unharmed?

Not possible.

Shuou had wounded one of the queen’s men. No matter how he tried to mend that error, he would inevitably incur her wrath.

In that case, I’ll have to use force.

He arrived at the simplest, clearest answer. With no time to think about whether his decision was right or wrong, he moved to action.

“I did as you ordered,” Shuou declared in a deliberately blunt voice. “As promised, release my comrades at once.”

The queen’s long, narrow eyes wavered. “W-What…? Do you realize who you’re—”

Not letting her finish, Shuou pointed towards Faye, raising his voice in provocation. “I’m talking to you! If you have even a shred of pride as monarch, then keep your word, Aventurine! If you can’t do that, you’re nothing but a liar!”

The queen’s face contorted hideously. At the same time, the mud smeared over her face began to crack.

“This is unforgiveable, you common swine!” she yelled, stomping her feet on the ground. “Kill him! Kill him this instant!”

As directed, the three Brights drew their swords. One of them took the lead, slashing at Shuou, his movements sluggish. Under normal circumstances, the three Brights should have attacked him at the same time. However, Shuou being a Squire without a Sunstone had caused the Brights to let their guards down. He couldn’t have asked for better conditions.

The Bright slashed diagonally with his double-edged sword. Shifting his torso backwards and narrowing his body, Shuou dodged the attack. Before the Bright could assail him again, Shuou twisted the man’s left hand, which held his sword, upwards. Using the momentum of his opponent’s slash, Shuou dragged him onto the ground.

When Shuou twisted the Bright’s wrist upwards, he howled in agony, dropping his sword. Like a branch, Shuou pulled on the man’s limp arm, stomped on his elbow, and lifted his wrist towards the ceiling. Accompanied by a dull cracking sound, the Bright screamed.

One down.

The sudden onslaught of intense pain and the terror of one’s own body being destroyed. Shuou understood the confusion arising from that horror all too well. The Bright with the broken arm wouldn’t feel like standing for quite some time.

Since childhood, Shuou had endured countless days of excruciating training to acquire these skills. Without killing, he aimed to strip his opponents of their wills to fight using crushing blows to their bones or joints. In other words, he would mangle the framework that formed the foundation of the human body.

This idea of suppressing numerous enemies without killing them had been passed down through generations. In its most basic form, the practitioner waited for his enemy to strike, dodged using minimal effort, and then launched a counterattack.

Human bodies were most vulnerable to pain, Shuou knew. When the body sensed pain, its survival instincts kicked in all at once. Concentration diffused, and one’s hands involuntarily moved to protect the afflicted area.

Shuffling his feet to maintain stability, Shuou kept his hands free to grab his enemies at a moment’s notice. When facing an opponent without weapons or a shield, dodging was especially important. Amane had recognized Shuou’s talent while he was still a child, choosing him as her successor. At last, he understood her feelings. Because he possessed extraordinary kinetic vision, the act of dodging allowed him to use his abilities to their fullest potential.

His eyes were so powerful, he could imagine the flow of time slowing down. This more than compensated for his lack of battle experience, allowing him to demonstrate his overwhelming superiority. The founder of these arts had excelled at reading peoples’ minds, it was said. He could predict his opponent’s next movement and dodge the attack, securing his path to victory.

“But that was so long ago, no one knows the truth,” Amane had said while laughing.

The expressions of the formerly composed Brights changed. The female soldier attacked Shuou next.

As she had been one of their guides to Aventurine, he recognized her face. Taking advantage of its thin blade, the female Bright thrust her sword forward with a familiar motion. Though her attack was swift enough to strike down a bird, Shuou could dodge the inhuman assailments of Rabidaemons.  Thus, he could evade – by a hair’s breadth – a thrust aimed at his heart with little to no effort. In fact, Shuou stepped forward while dodging, closing in on the female Bright. With both hands, he grabbed her hair, dragging her downwards.

“Aaah!?”

Hearing her feminine scream, Shuou lost his bearings for a moment, but he didn’t stop. Twisting the female Bright’s left hand upwards, Shuou then placed his hand on her left shoulder, pressing down with all his weight. As she writhed spasmodically, Shuou experienced the sensation of a large tree splitting in two. The strength drained from her limbs, her soul seeming to have left her body. Likely, she had lost consciousness due to immense pain.

Two down.

Shuou glared at his last remaining enemy, who had left the strongest impression on him. Seven days ago, this fierce-looking Bright had kicked him in the face. Finally realizing that his opponent wasn’t a mere Squire, the fierce-looking man raised his left hand to use Crynetic Energy. However…

Too slow.

He was far too late. These Brights had challenged Shuou to a fight while underestimating him. From the outset, his victory had been assured. Even if this Bright finally drew his greatest weapon, he was – in the end – only one man.

Crouching, Shuou closed the distance between himself and the Bright, who was refining Crynetic Energy, in a single bound. Because he’d expected his use of Crynetic Energy to frighten a commoner, Shuou’s forward charge stunned the fierce-looking Bright. Rather than releasing his power, the man collapsed backwards in a state of confusion.

Shuou looked down upon the Bright. When their eyes met, his fierce-looking expression changed to one of horror. Now holding his opponent’s life in his hands, a childish desire for revenge blossomed within Shuou. Aiming for the Bright’s face, he lifted his foot.

“Sto—”

Seeing the Bright’s look of terror, pleasure borne from dark desires filled Shuou’s mind. Once, Amane had instructed him to never strike with his fists or feet. Extending one’s limbs, which were vital in battle, would needlessly increase chances of injury.

Nevertheless, Shuou – still a young man – didn’t hesitate to bring down the hammer of revenge. Stomping down with all his might, he crushed the Bright’s jaw. Observing the fierce-looking man’s eyes widen in terror and then pass out, Shuou breathed a deep sigh.

Three down.

Shuou had subdued the four Brights guarding the queen. Even so, he hadn’t suppressed all his enemies. Faye Aventurine, possessor of Sandstone and presumably the most formidable opponent here, was still alive and well.

What should I do?

Exhilarated and dazed at having finished one job, Shuou hadn’t considered how to deal with Faye. Fortunately, the queen stood rooted in place, speechless and unable to believe the series of events she’d just witnessed. This unexpected situation had left her baffled as well.

Fight or flee. Those two options rose to mind.

Shuou didn’t know how much power lay hidden within Sandstone. Since Faye had restarted the hourglass, he could assume that her Radiantore’s Crynetic Energy related to sand. However, he lacked enough information to even imagine its scale, speed, or precision.

The distance between himself and her throne was by no means short. Even if he closed in at full speed, she would have more than enough time to formulate a counterattack. He could take his comrades and run, but fleeing with two wounded, exhausted companions would be dangerous.

I’ve reached a deadlock.

While considering a do-or-die charge as a last resort, he noticed something. Glancing around the chamber, he found Prince Shue staring at him dumbfoundedly. Without thinking, Shuou’s legs began to move. One step, two steps, three steps. Taking long strides, Shuou raced over to the prince at full speed, placing him in a grappling hold.

Faye thrust out her arm, but she was too late.

“Release my comrades now,” said Shuou. “If you disobey, I’ll kill the prince right here.”

Pulling one of Shue’s arms behind his back, Shuou tightened his right hand around the prince’s throat. Though light at first, he began to squeeze harder, blocking the prince’s windpipe.

“You won’t get away with harming royalty!” shouted Faye, trembling with rage.

So what’s your next move?

Faye looked furious enough to spew lava from her head. In contrast, Shuou watched her movements with icy composure. This was his final bet. If the queen didn’t care about the life of her younger brother, who’d been taken hostage, she might try to kill both of them. Only two foreseeable outcomes rose to mind.

I either live or die.

Unconsciously, a smile formed on Shuou’s face. What had he been thinking, starting a fight under such uncertain circumstances? It was laughable. In response to his out-of-place smile, a bewildered Faye shrank back. To provoke a final answer from the queen, Shuou tightened his grip around the prince’s throat. Already, he was squeezing hard enough to impede normal respiration.

“Guhguh… Gagahgah…”

His voice anguished, the restrained prince still struggled to escape, placing his free right hand over the one choking him. Still undecided, Faye gritted her teeth.

“Your Highness, this has gone on long enough,” the prime minister warned, quietly watching the situation from beside his liege. “If the prince loses his life, the situation will worsen and become more difficult to hide. Additionally, Murakumo will no longer be able to pretend this incident never occurred. In that case, our country’s history will come to an end under your reign.”

“A mere commoner would never have the gall to kill royalty,” Faye muttered as if to persuade herself.

Eki pointed to the scene unfolding before them. “Princess… Take a good look at what’s in front of you.”

Two Brights writhed on the ground like caterpillars, holding their broken arms. Another two Brights had lost consciousness, completely unmoving.

“A mere commoner did all this by himself,” the prime minister continued. “Stop averting your eyes from reality. Even if you trade the prince’s life to kill that young man, you’ll gain nothing, and what you lose will be far greater.”

After examining the scene unfolding before her, Faye looked at her brother writhing in agony. Biting her lower lip hard enough to break skin, she suddenly slumped down onto her throne.

“I approve the release of your comrades,” she said. “No one will pursue you, so do as you please…”

Hearing those words, Shuou unwrapped his hand from the prince’s throat.

“Ack, hackhack!”

The prince let out several anguished coughs. Still restraining him, Shuou walked over to Miyahi and Hinokaji, untying the ropes binding them.

“Are you okay?” Shuou asked concernedly.

“Y-Yes…” replied Hinokaji, massaging the bruises on his wrists left by the rope.

Finding the man’s distant attitude strange, Shuou asked Miyahi the same question.

“I’m fine,” she said. “More importantly, are you—”

“We can talk later. Let’s get out of here right now.”

Miyahi gave an emphatic nod. “Yes, you’re right.”

“You two go on ahead of me.”

After confirming that Miyahi and Hinokaji had left the audience chamber, Shuou followed them, still towing the prince along. Right before he’d exited the chamber, the queen called for him to stop.

“Wait! Let Shue… Let the prince go!”

“I’m bringing him with me until I can guarantee our safety.”

“Didn’t I promise not to send pursuers!?”

Shuou glared at this dissatisfied queen of Aventurine. “You think I believe you?”

His question rendered Faye speechless. At that moment, the hourglass counting time behind her dropped its final grain of sand.

Remaining vigilant until the very end, Shuou finally escaped from this maddening box, regrouping with the others waiting outside the castle. Knowing he might resist, Shuou still released the prince. From the outset, he’d sensed no hostility from the man. Also, he had confidence in his ability to subdue the man in the event of an emergency. Placing his freed hands on the ground, Prince Shue coughed loudly.

“I’m sorry,” Shuou apologized.

The prince shook his head. “N-No… I’m the one… who should be apologizing…”

Relieved by his lack of hostility, Shuou extended a hand to the prince, who was on all fours. Seeing Shuou’s hand, the prince slapped it away, his face pale.

“Ah…” said Shuou.

Standing up awkwardly by himself, the prince put on a brave face, pointing to the inner left of the castle gates. “Your horses are stabled over there. No matter what, I won’t allow my sister to send pursuers. Please be safe.”

Nodding, Shuou lent Hinokaji a shoulder, heading towards the stables without turning back. In the end, after being released, the prince never made eye contact with him even once.

Moonlight shining down on them, the party raced across the Alabaster Road on horseback. As if a film had been stretched across the sky, the thinly streaked clouds allowed for only vague luminescence. Each time a wave of them passed, the swaying moon appeared to be swimming in a lake.

Identical to their original journey, Hinokaji mounted one horse while Shuou rode behind Miyahi. Despite having an empty saddle, the horse Shuou had ridden here followed behind them. Like Kazahina had said, he was quite clever.

Perhaps due to nervousness, Miyahi remained silent for some time, but as distance between them and Aventurine’s capital grew, she began to regain her composure.

“I don’t know what to ask first,” she said. “Are you really Shuou?”

Shuou donned a wry smile. “Of course I am.”

“I suppose you are. Still, you seem like a different person. Anyway, once we’re back at Winter Fortress, you’ll need to answer all my questions. What rotten luck… Even if I tell everyone what you did, none of them will believe me.”

In all likelihood, the future Miyahi had envisioned would never come. Shuou had been relieved of his duties at Winter Fortress. Upon returning to Murakumo, he would need to leave for the capital. He would never eat Yaina’s cooking again. Miyahi would never look after him again. Knowing that, he did feel a tinge of loneliness, yet he brushed it aside.

Shuou didn’t belong within the small confines of Winter Fortress, for he sought knowledge and experience. From here on out, he would search for what he desired. Though he belonged to the military, he had the freedom to leave at any time. Relying on his own strength, he could escape.

Just for a little while longer.

He would experience this country for a little while longer. Furthermore, there were people to whom he owed a debt. Despite having no attachment to his life in Winter Fortress, he did feel regret when thinking of Hinokaji’s promise to teach him swordsmanship.

Since leaving the capital, the old man hadn’t looked at Shuou a single time. Right now, Shuou could only see his back, but later, he would need to explain the situation and apologize.

Original text: https://ncode.syosetu.com/n4006r/12/