After finishing up May's adventurer registration, I settled onto a sofa along the lobby wall to wait for her — she'd looked thoroughly dispirited after the beginner orientation.
Near the staircase, sitting on the hard cushions and waiting for May, I spotted a familiar group of adventurers at the reception desk, looking lovestruck as they listened to someone speak.
Straining my ears, I caught fragments of their conversation and realized they'd been hit with penalties.
They'd barely managed to complete any quests, and with ratings that low, they were being assessed fines instead of earning rewards.
Yet the party members under Erhard's lead looked happy about it. That struck me as odd, but when I caught a glimpse of the receptionist's face behind them, the mystery was solved.
A woman with long golden hair, a soft and fluffy aura, and droopy eyes was scolding them. But even her scolding was adorable.
"Listen here! Trust is everything for adventurers, so it's important to chip away at small jobs consistently!"
She held up her index finger as she delivered her lecture, but every last pair of eyes in the group was fixed on her chest.
"Y-yes. We understand."
The lovestruck party members listened to the receptionist's explanation without a single word of protest.
Would she count as an older-sister type? She looked a few years older than me.
Her green eyes were dead serious — she was definitely worried about Erhard and the others.
That said, her guild staff uniform looked like it had been slightly modified. It was the sort that emphasized her generous bust, and unlike Tahnia, she had a soft, gentle big-sister feel to her.
And yet there she was, laying into Erhard's group.
"I'll be your dedicated receptionist for a while, so I'll be keeping a close eye on you all! First, let's make sure you actually complete jobs you're capable of. If you can't pay your fines, you can use the guild dormitory by completing the quests we assign!"
With no money to speak of and no proper equipment — though to be fair, Erhard wasn't much better off — she introduced them to several menial-type quests.
(So the guild really does have sleeping facilities. But it's not exactly free, huh.)
The receptionist explained that she'd managed to persuade the guild to let Erhard's group pay their fines in installments.
"They were originally supposed to pay the full amount at once, but I talked them into holding off — so you'd better keep up with your payments! Once everything's paid off, you'll need to work for a while and get proper equipment before you're allowed to go hunting Monsters again!"
Grateful and moved by the fuming receptionist's decision.
(Do staff members really have that kind of authority? Or rather, would someone actually go that far?)
When I looked at her with puzzlement, the receptionist broke into a smile.
"Let's all do our best together, everyone!"
"Yes!"
When Erhard answered with enthusiasm, the other members chimed in with spirited voices as well. Then they got down to the various procedures.
The receptionist was looking down at the paperwork when a strand of her long hair fell across her ear. She brushed it back with her hand. In that instant, she glanced my way.
Erhard and the others didn't seem to notice; they were busy writing their names on the documents they'd been handed.
The receptionist's gaze wasn't that same warm, fuzzy look from before. Her aura felt just a touch sharper, somehow. Then, catching sight of me, she smiled and immediately went back to work.
While I was still bewildered, I heard the sound of many footsteps coming down the stairs.
May, who had jumped down with tremendous energy, landed and called out to me.
"Kept you waiting?"
"Huh? No, oh... yeah."
I stood up from where I'd been sitting and led May out of the guild lobby.
(What was that all about?)
Night.
Inside the Jewel, I sat facing the Third Generation.
The Third Generation's memory room depicted a city spread out all around.
In that plaza, I fought against the Third Generation, who held a single-handed sword.
'It definitely felt suspicious. But would they really go that far just to deceive them and make them disappear? They might have vanished on their own if left alone!'
The Third Generation parries my saber with his sword while talking, then kicks out at me. I step back, and the Third Generation kicks off the ground, sending a spray of sand toward me.
My hands move instinctively to block my vision from being obscured—then I realize my mistake.
"I messed up!"
I don't even need to finish the word. Seizing the opening, the Third Generation slashes deeply into my leg with his sword.
The illusion created by the Third Generation flickers in my vision. My saber, raised hastily, fails to block the attack. This time, my right arm is cut.
'Hahaha, still too soft, Lyle.'
Heading toward the plaza's fountain, the Third Generation tosses his sword aside, letting it vanish, and sits down on a nearby bench.
The pain subsides, the wound heals, and I walk over to the Third Generation.
"One more time, please."
When I challenge him to another match, he smiles.
'I refuse. You're overthinking it, and as you are now, it's pointless no matter how many times we do this. Is it called dojo swordsmanship? Lyle, you're too straightforward.'
My slashing strikes and thrusts, repeated by the book, must seem too mild to the Third Generation. He is the Successive Heads who fought endlessly on the battlefield, defeating Monsters, and possesses a body at its peak.
I still can't reach that level, can I?
I look down and clench my fist. The Third Generation speaks to me.
'Lyle, defeating me with the sword is important, but you haven't forgotten, have you? Mastering swordsmanship alone is meaningless. The ultimate goal is—'
"…To defeat Ceres. And for that, I need at least the strength to fight Ceres on equal terms."
For me to defeat Ceres, the Successive Heads had laid down several conditions.
To possess a military force capable of defeating House Walt, and Banseim.
To possess a small, elite unit capable of defeating Ceres.
In short, it means creating a situation where I can win.
Training with the Successive Heads was just one part of that plan. Rather, if I could ally myself with someone capable of defeating Ceres, it would have been unnecessary altogether.
"…Even if you defeat Ceres, it's all House Walt's responsibility. Even in victory, there's no future beyond that. Besides, you can't defeat a nation with a party of fewer than ten. When it comes to war, if you're going to fight, you have to win — otherwise it's meaningless."
To win, the Successive Heads lent me their wisdom. To win, I was gathering companions. But at this rate, how much time would it take?
The Third Generation, noticing my impatience, spoke in a reassuring tone.
"If Rael takes a half-hearted shot at it, Ceres will keep spreading madness across the continent for years to come. If you're going to do it, do it once. And don't aim for a mutual takedown — aim for a complete victory. Otherwise, even if you defeat Ceres, Rael could be executed as a male of House Walt afterward. That would betray the comrades who helped you."
Even so, I had no idea how to catch up to Ceres. I had no military force of my own.
Rallying the surrounding nations and challenging Banseim in battle would also be difficult.
"Rushing won't improve your chances. Hurrying and panicking are two different things. Besides, you need to gather information first."
Baim could gather information on the surrounding nations as well.
Once I fulfilled Baim's first commission, I would be able to start moving here in earnest.
"That information hasn't been collected yet, either, though."
I said, more to mock myself, and the Third Generation wore a serious expression.
"Either way, even if the surrounding nations think something's wrong with Banseim, they probably won't invade. Our share of the blame for letting it grow that big probably exists, too."
The Sixth and Seventh Generations had contributed greatly to Banseim.
The Third Generation was no different — he had saved Banseim from crisis.
"Rael, will you make a promise with me?"
"A promise?"
The Third Generation stood up from the bench and pressed his fist against my chest.
"Look beyond defeating Ceres. This doesn't end with just defeating Ceres. The reason we're helping you is because we want the future that comes after. The bloodline of House Walt that we've kept connected… it's so that it can continue into the future."
"…The future?"
The Third Generation nodded.
"That's right. So don't you go thinking you can beat Ceres in some mutual destruction gambit."
"…Even if it means losing countless lives in the meantime?"
"That's right. Don't be so full of yourself. Even a goddess can't save every last human. For a human to think he can save all of humanity — that's pure arrogance. Besides, as things stand, there's no way you can beat Ceres. It wouldn't even qualify as a bet on who wins and who loses."
From the moment I decided to challenge the kingdom, I already knew there was an insurmountable gap between me and Ceres. But when I actually made the choice to stand against her, that gap seemed to grow even wider still.
"…I will win. I will seize the future."
The Third Generation withdrew his fist from my chest, smiled, and walked away.
"That's the spirit."
—The Kingdom of Banseim.
A city was burning.
Surrounding it was Banseim's regular army.
Knights sat mounted on horseback in full armor, lined up in formation. At their center stood Meizel Walt, clad in battle gear.
Ceres's specially commissioned palanquin had a roof over it, and the knights who bore it stood by at its sides. Atop the palanquin, which rested on the ground, Ceres sat in her chair and watched the city burn.
"How utterly underwhelming."
Ceres wore a displeased expression, clad in armor that had been custom-tailored to resemble a dress.
Meizel spoke.
"With thirty thousand surrounding it, a tiny city like this is child's play. Honestly, defying Ceres — what a bunch of fools they are."
The crown prince of the Kingdom of Banseim had suddenly changed his fiancée, causing a massive uproar. And once word of Ceres spread, nobles began stepping forward in opposition.
"I thought they were brave landed nobility, but it seems I misjudged them."
The city that the viscount's house had governed was being slaughtered — civilians fleeing in panic cut down by soldiers. In the surrounding villages, raids were also underway, carried out by landed nobility who had volunteered to participate.
The looting was being carried out, yet no one was blaming anyone for it.
Ceres gazed at the burning city from a distance, thinking that the regular army she had brought from the kingdom was not up to the task after all...
"Well, be that as it may. I don't hear any screams, though. Move closer."
She said this to the knight managing the palanquin.
The knight.
"B-but, if something were to happen to Lady Ceres—"
When the armored knight protested, Maisel drew the Saber at his hip, thrust the blade into a gap in the knight's armor—near the neck—and stabbed him to death.
"Did you think the daughter of House Walt would fear such a thing! This is why Court Nobles are..."
Seeing the wild-eyed Maisel, the knights carrying the palanquin—the low-ranking court knights—seemed to have grown frightened.
Blood spurting from the knight's armor had splashed onto Ceres's cheek. She wiped it away with her fingertip, then smeared it onto her lips and licked it with her tongue.
The knights who saw this were captivated by her eerie beauty.
"Father, I wish to see the battlefield. Also... it seems there are knights fighting. Could you have them make way for us? I must meet the Hero in person."
Ceres smiled as she spoke, but Maisel hesitated.
"But the opponent is a renowned knight. Dozens of knights from the regular army have already been taken down. Surely you cannot mean to expose my daughter to such a man—"
To the rambling Maisel, Ceres said to the surrounding knights with a smile.
"You worry too much, Father. Now, let's go see the Hero. It will be fine... as long as I am here, we will win."
The knights gathered to carry the palanquin looked up at Ceres, high above them, and swallowed hard. The palanquin was lifted, and Ceres was carried forward into the battlefield by the dozens of men.
And as the messenger ran off, knights and soldiers who had been fighting to defend the city began to withdraw.
A knight with a horse nearby was suspicious, but seeing the main force led by Ceres in the palanquin approaching, he mounted his horse and charged.
That he was an excellent knight was something even Ceres could understand from the sight of his charge. Maisel did too.
"Hmm, not bad at all."
Ceres found herself hoping the knight was young—perhaps in his mid-twenties.
"My horse."
At those words, the palanquin was lowered and Ceres's beloved steed appeared. The sacred beast with its black scales, gray mane, and horn was none other than a Kirin.
"Wait, Ceres! That one is strong. If you get hurt—"
Noticing her father Maisel fretting, Ceres gave him a wink.
"It's all right, you worrywart."
Then, mounting the Kirin, she took the rapier her subordinate offered. Kicking its flanks to get it running, she deliberately had the Kirin stay low to the ground.
The knights and soldiers made way for Ceres, and before her eyes, a blood-soaked knight charged forward with a spear.
The armor was functional yet adorned with decorations that gave it a certain elegance. The horse too might have been a famous steed—sturdy and working as an extension of its rider.
Rider and mount as one.
How many years of training had the knight before her put in to achieve such unity?
"Ah, I want him. So much better than Rufus!"
The knight's sharp gaze was locked on Ceres with killing intent. Finding it oddly pleasant, Ceres let slip that she wanted him more than the Crown Prince.
In a passing clash, Ceres's rapier and the knight's spear crossed.
Sparks scattered. As they wheeled back toward each other, the knight gripped the spear with both hands, controlling the horse with his legs alone, and thrust at Ceres.
"What the hell are you?!"
Ceres was thrilled by the razor edge of that spear. She deflected the thrust with her slender rapier. Normally, that would have thrown the opponent off balance. Yet without losing form for an instant, the knight pressed the attack against Ceres.
"Not bad. You're really good—I'll add you to my personal guard. Now, won't you tell me your name? And do take that off, it's terribly tasteless."
Having not worn a helmet from the start, Ceres couldn't see the opponent's face, so she sent his helmet flying.
Once she could see her opponent's face, the young man turned out to be a sharp-featured youth with piercing eyes, who pulled back on the reins to create distance.
The helmet that had been sent spinning into the air landed on Ceres's outstretched hand. She caught it and began twirling it idly with her left.
"Now then, tell me your name."
But the knight before her—
"I refuse! I have no name to give to those who commit such despicable acts! You invaded without a declaration of war and burned our town to the ground—I will never forgive you!"
The smile that had been on Ceres's face suddenly gave way to a look of annoyance.
(Ugh, there's always one like this...)
Then a voice emanated from the yellow Jewel embedded in the rapier's hilt. The sultry voice sounded as though it were laughing.
"Turned down, Ceres. What a shame. He's surely one of Banseim's finest knights... What will you do?"
Ceres listened to the voice and—
"Hmm. Is there perhaps some more entertaining way to handle this?"
The knight before her shifted his brow and leveled his spear at Ceres.
"A knight with strong convictions of loyalty, I see. Indeed—this one might be interesting to keep alive and force to watch his people die. You've never done it before, have you? It would be far more amusing than simply cutting him to pieces, I'd wager."
The corners of Ceres's mouth curved into a crescent, and with a kick to the Kirin's flank, she charged toward the knight. Her opponent spurred his own mount forward, spear leveled for the charge.
They crossed paths, and both horses slowed to a stop.
Then a cut appeared in the fabric of Ceres's skirt.
"Oh my?"
"You let your guard down. That's been your problem all along, Ceres. Behave more elegantly. That makes twice now, after Rael."
At the mention of Rael's name, a crease formed between Ceres's brows.
"...If it weren't for Novem, I'd have cut him to pieces. That person alone keeps me in check..."
Laughter came from the Jewel.
"I told you it would be fine to just keep Rael, but you're too fixated on that. I'd like to admire that one, you know. Beautiful and an excellent knight as well... That one is the same as you."
Ceres brushed her hair back and turned to look at the knight.
"Hmph, that's exactly what I hate about you."
The knight who turned back in the same manner spat blood from his mouth—and dropped to the ground, his right arm that had held the spear falling with him.
Then the horse's head fell as well, and as it collapsed to the ground, red blood spread across the dry earth before being quickly swallowed up.
"You...!"
Ceres rode the Kirin closer to the knight.
"Ah, looks like I went too far."
"This one won't last long at this rate. Now then..."
But the knight showed one last burst of resolve. He drew a hidden dagger with his left hand and lunged toward Ceres.
As Ceres narrowed her gaze, a spear was driven into the knight.
"Oh my."
A bewildered Ceres looked at the knight who had thrust the spear. The lightly-armored knight, whose duty it was to carry her litter, drove the spear in even deeper.
The knight took the spear to his side and spat out a torrent of blood.
"Don't think this will last forever... Someday... all of you..."
Ceres let out a sigh and beheaded the knight. Then, while her gaze drifted to the knight who had helped her when she was on one knee, she held the severed head of the knight she had cut down in her hand.
She grabbed a fistful of his hair and studied his expression.
"Your name?"
"Bread Bumper, Lady Ceres!"
As Maisel rode closer on horseback, he drew his saber.
"You... always causing unnecessary trouble!"
Ceres stopped Maisel from trying to kill Bread. She tossed him the knight's head and helmet she had been holding in her left hand.
"That won't do, Father. I'm rewarding him for saving me. He gets that knight's armor. From today on, you're assigned to my personal guard."
Hearing those words, Bread—
"Y-Yes!"
He was moved to tears.
Bread Bumper... he was a knight who had been in a romantic relationship with Dris, the daughter of House Cerclie. But now, he devoted his loyalty to Ceres alone.
Ceres mounted the Kirin and returned to her palanquin.
A voice came from within the Jewel.
"Are you satisfied with only this much blood, Ceres?"
Ceres smiled as she replied.
"Of course not. I'm going to keep going, more and more. I want to see the sight of the earth stained red with blood. More importantly, tell me what's interesting next."
Pressed by Ceres, the seductive voice within the Jewel spoke.
"Fufufu, that innocent side of you is quite endearing. Well then, how about surrounding a village and making the villagers kill each other? It would be quite the spectacle."
Ceres heard this and—
"That sounds wonderful! Let's do that! We have to head to an untouched village right away! Father!"
She immediately called out to her father.
Maisel responded.
"What is it, Ceres? Are you hurt? But more importantly, you need to change out of those blood-spattered clothes. I brought plenty of dresses and armor prepared just for you."
He uses the kingdom's treasury funds, spending taxes for Ceres's sake.
But no one dares to object. This is what happens to those who do — as this very moment demonstrates.
"I want to play in the nearby village! Let's wrap this up quickly and move on to the next one!"
Ceres spoke in an affectionate, wheedling tone, and Maisel responded with a smile.
"Very well. Pillaging is an important duty of a lord, after all. I'll have preparations made immediately. Oh, but before that—"
Maisel issued instructions to the mages.
"That's enough. Playtime is over. Burn it to the ground."
At his command, the mages raised their staves and exchanged flashes of light. From the troops positioned around the town, the sound of bells rang out, and the knights and soldiers withdrew from the streets.
Then, Maisel nodded to Ceres.
"Burn!"
Ceres pointed her thumb upward and aimed her index finger at the town as she spoke.
Magic rained down from the surrounding troops.
Fire, water, earth, wind, lightning — everything converged, and an entire town vanished in an instant. Thousands of lives were extinguished at the same time.
But Ceres couldn't have cared less.
"Ahahaha — well, it wasn't quite the burn I was hoping for."
When Ceres laughed, Maisel smiled back.
"What? Everything Ceres does is adorable. Oh, but now that Ceres is engaged, I should say 'beautiful,' shouldn't I?"
Ceres puffed out her cheeks.
"Honestly, Father, always teasing me like that. Come on, Father."
Ceres urged Maisel along.
"Hmm, let's head to an untouched village at once. You—next, we raid. Find villages that other lords haven't attacked."
Watching Maisel issue orders to the House Walt knights nearby, Ceres looked satisfied.
From the Jewel, Ceres's expression was observed.
*"Ceres, you're adorable, you know that."*
A voice like that echoed through her mind.
At a tea shop in Baim, Novem was waiting for a certain person.
Lyle and the others had gone off on their own since it was a day off, and without telling anyone, Novem had come here to make contact with this person.
The small tea shop door opened, and the bell mounted on it chimed throughout the interior. Novem heard the footsteps and, without turning around, knew that the person she had summoned had arrived.
When the shopkeeper moved to guide the customer to a seat, the customer spotted Novem and asked that a drink be brought to the table where she was sitting.
Carrying a bundle, the customer sat down across from Novem and got straight to business.
"It's been a while. No need for greetings, so I'll just get to the point. Things turned out just like you said, Novem."
Novem sipped her tea.
"I see."
That was all she said.
The other person continued.
"...The Banseim viscount family was really wiped out. The towns, the villages—everything. Blown clean off the map."
"I figured as much."
The other person showed no exasperation at Novem's detached attitude and held out the bundle to her.
"It's from Father. And today, I've come to say goodbye to you."
Novem looked at the other person's face as she accepted the bundle.
"...So you're going to follow Lady Ceres, Brother."
The young man addressed as brother handed over the bundle, thanked the server who brought their drinks, and took a sip.
Then he looked out the window.
Their seats were near the window, and the shop had a fair number of patrons inside. There were couples as well as families with children.
"Father says he cannot betray Lord Meizel. I'll follow that decision as well. With Laiel gone from House Walt, Lady Ceres is the only one left."
Novem wasn't the only one shrouded in mystery.
House Foxes itself was full of mysteries. Their oath of loyalty to House Walt over the royal family made them heretics in the eyes of others.
"You're the one with the thickest blood in the family, aren't you? You're always calm. And you never make wrong judgments. You can handle everything with composure."
At her brother's words, Novem was about to answer in her usual detached manner—then stopped.
"...Brother, I don't think blood thickness has anything to do with it. We simply have memories."
"Maybe so. But you're the one who inherited those memories most strongly, Novem."
The two of them sipped their drinks and exchanged words in fits and starts until they ran dry.
"Next time we meet, we'll be enemies."
"Yes."
"You wouldn't flinch even facing us... but what about Laiel?"
When Novem thought of Laiel...
"He's a kind person. He might hesitate."
"I see. I wanted to serve Laiel too, you know."
Seeing her brother smile sorrowfully at those words, Novem stood up with the bundle in hand. She also accepted the check for his portion.
"Getting treated by your little sister really doesn't do much for my standing, you know?"
Novem smiled at her brother's joke.
"As thanks for coming all this way. Well then, perhaps on the battlefield."
As Novem turned to pay the counter, her brother called out to her back.
"Novem, do you think Lord Laiel will accept you?"
Having paid the bill, Novem glanced back at her brother with a smile as she left the shop. Seeing her expression, her brother lowered his gaze and looked down.
"Is that so..."
Understanding the unspoken answer between them, Novem stepped out of the shop and walked along Baim Street, carefully holding her bundle.
However, her expression was less blank than it was faintly sorrowful—