"Honestly, I'm so exasperated with you, Weakling, I don't even know what to say! What were you thinking?! Stop causing trouble for Lucia all the time!"
"Sorry, sorry..."
I hugged the Rampage Carpet tightly—it had run out of mana and become nothing more than a regular carpet—and offered my apologies.
This whole mess was entirely my fault. Being mindful of a self-propelled Treasure Weapon's charge was just common sense for anyone who used Treasure Weapons, and the fact that I'd forgotten... If Marchis found out, he'd turn crimson and give me a thorough lecture.
"You were the one who pleaded so desperately that I went along with it... So what if you dropped the carpet! I look like an idiot, don't I?!"
"I'm truly sorry..."
"Don't say that with a smile on your face! What were you planning to do if something happened to the escort while we were gone?!"
Well, the carpet had been found safely. If I hadn't found it, I'd have kicked myself, but the objective had been achieved, so coming back was worth it. I felt terrible about it, but if the same situation arose again, I'd probably do the same thing.
I mean, even if I'd stayed, I wouldn't have been any use as an escort... I did feel bad about dragging Cruse into it, though.
"It'll be fine, nothing's going to happen..."
I'd told Citry to make sure the dragons didn't come near, so without any external factors, there was no way they'd attack us head-on.
If such things kept happening in succession, the Emperor must truly be cursed.
The Iron Horse, now thoroughly attached to Cruse, chased after the carriage with incredible speed. Even with two people riding it, it moved at carpet-like velocity. We'd catch up to the carriage in no time.
—And what greeted our triumphant return was the sight of the carriage surrounded by countless monster corpses.
Franz noticed us and glared with a demonic expression. Apparently, something had happened.
Should I count myself lucky for not being there, or call it exactly as it looked—totally unacceptable?
I was good at apologizing, but from the client's perspective, this was the worst-case scenario.
We'd left the escort target without a word, and during that time, the target had been attacked. This was the kind of trust-destroying incident that could cost you rank even on a normal job. No amount of groveling would earn forgiveness.
Even Cruse's expression was taut.
I'd left the other members behind, but losing the leader of the Hunter unit on this escort was a hard sell. If I honestly told them I'd dropped my carpet and went back to get it, they might actually kill me.
Telm was frowning in our direction. Kechachachaka seemed the same as always, but somehow his expression looked clouded.
Stay calm, stay calm, Klye Andrich.
This was no time to panic. Respond calmly, calmly. I'd survived all sorts of hellish situations before—this time would work out too, surely.
I gave Cruse's stiff back a light pat, dismounted, and the first thing I asked Franz was: "Were there any injuries?"
"Wh— How dare you ask— No, there weren't."
Franz's face was crimson with blood rushing to his head, but after several rough, deep breaths, he gave a curt answer.
Franz was a noble, yet surprisingly composed. With an ordinary noble, I'd have been yelled at.
So there had been no injuries after all.
Looking closely, the signs of destruction were overwhelming. Well, of course—when you had a Mage capable of annihilating a swarm of giant Chill Dragons with a single spell, an ordinary horde of monsters was nothing.
It wasn't good, but it could have been worse. If there had been casualties, it would have been the worst of the worst. This way, there was still a chance I might be forgiven... or so I felt. Probably not, though?
Please forgive me. I promise I'll never leave the escort post on my own again.
Franz strode roughly up to me. Stinging, accusatory gazes converged from all directions.
Word by word, in a tone so forceful it was practically intimidation, Franz spoke: "I'd interrogate you right this instant if I could! Unfortunately, now is not the time to be stopped in the middle of the road! His Majesty's safety comes first! But rest assured, once we reach the city, we'll have a very thorough conversation! Do you have anything to say?"
"No."
It seemed he was giving me time to think up an excuse. I didn't think I could come up with one that would salvage this situation in such a short time... but I was entirely at fault here.
Franz looked broadly around and shouted his orders.
"...We're moving out. All personnel, stay on guard!"
Now then, what to do...
--- Perhaps because we'd just been attacked by monsters, a palpable tension hung in the air.
Even Cruse, who had at least been gracious enough to let me ride with him, was in a foul mood.
"What are you going to do, Weakling? I have no interest in politics or escort duties, but being fired from a guard detail is unforgivable for a proud Spiritfolk."
Hmm...
There was nothing I could do. I was the one who'd brought Telm along, and thanks to him, the swarm of Chill Dragons had been annihilated, so I didn't think I'd be thrown in prison. But my reputation was going to take a serious hit.
Well, reputation was honestly something I couldn't care less about (none of the Mourning Specter members had much desire for fame anyway), and losing Levels was something I'd accept, or even welcome. What I was actually worried about was whether they'd confiscate my carpet.
...After they confiscated it, maybe I could buy it back with money?
Cruse had only been dragged along by me, so she'd be fine... probably.
"I was entrusted by Lucia to look after you, Weakling, and this is what happens..."
Cruse's voice came out weak and wavering. At the edges of those artistically shaped eyes, tears were forming.
"I-It'll be fine. I'll cover for you."
"...Weakling, just shut up!"
"...Yes, ma'am."
No matter how hard I racked my brain, a good excuse refused to materialize.
Behind us, a number of soldiers detached from the Imperial Guard followed as though keeping watch over us. I had no intention of leaving my post again, but our trust was completely spent. Maybe only providing support during the Chill Dragon incident had been a problem too. Perhaps my "Comfortable Vacation" didn't look like a useful Treasure Weapon. Thinking back, nothing had gone right. I felt sick.
I hadn't meant to slack off... but I was completely waving the white flag. Maybe it would be better to surrender honestly rather than keep making excuses.
The only favorable point, if there was one, was that this commission would undoubtedly succeed.
Not because of my abilities, but because of Still Water's power.
Just as I was feeling as though the moment of execution was drawing closer with every ticking second, the carriage—which had been proceeding smoothly—suddenly came to a halt.
We stopped right after.
Another attack!? How many times were we going to be hit? Was the Emperor really cursed? I was starting to feel a strange kinship with His Majesty.
If I'd known it would be like this, I should have turned down the commission... But I still wanted my carpet...
"G-Get off quickly! Weakling!"
It didn't seem to be an attack—no sounds of combat could be heard.
Franz, who had been guarding the Emperor's carriage, came over to us. He no longer wore the anger from before, but his expression was stern.
"It's a dragon corpse. Someone clearly brought it down."
"...Aren't there too many dragons? When did Zebuldia become the land of dragons?"
...Maybe I should relocate our base.
"...His Majesty has ordered me to request your analysis."
"I'm not exactly an expert, you know."
"Just come with me!"
Level 8 credibility, that's terrifying. Did all Level 8 Hunters in the world get treated like this?
I was practically dragged forward.
The dragon corpse sat right in the middle of the road.
It was a Green Dragon, recognizable by its green hide. It brought back old memories—the very first dragon the Mourning Specter had ever defeated.
It was three sizes larger than the Emperor's specially-built carriage, but its once-sturdy hide had been shredded, and its famously majestic wings were torn nearly to ribbons.
Telm touched the hide and frowned. Franz spoke: "If a Hunter had killed it, it would be unnatural for the materials to be untouched. If it was the work of another magical beast, we need to heighten our guard."
"It hasn't been dead for very long. This was... most likely caused by ice-type magic. And it was taken down while in flight."
At Telm's analysis, Cruse raised one of her elegantly shaped eyebrows and said: "There's no such thing as ice magic that could one-sidedly kill a dragon known for its high durability... is what I'd like to say, but there are traces of large-scale magic used in the atmosphere. This was likely done by a human, not a magical beast."
"Keh keh... keh keh keh keh..."
Amazing... so this was what a Hunter could do. Traces of large-scale magic lingering in the atmosphere—what even was that? What could Cruse see?
All I could tell was that it was a dragon corpse.
Franz glared at me as I stood with my arms folded, nodding in admiration.
"Well? What's your analysis?"
"Hmm... well, how should I put this... There's no need to worry about this one."
"What!?"
I had almost no eye for such things, but once again—just like last time—I had information they didn't.
This was... Lucia's magic. My younger sister, Lucia Roje, specialized in wide-area offensive magic.
The Mourning Specter had been besieged by massive numbers of monsters and phantom beasts on many occasions. We'd faced sniper attacks from extreme distances, and on occasion, the enemy had been a Grand Mage.
The Mourning Specter had its own division of roles. The one responsible for interception in such situations was Lucia.
The range of her magic had only expanded as Lucia grew—she'd once turned an entire town's worth of area into frogs—and it now boasted an astonishing breadth.
Ice magic was Lucia's particular favorite, so there was no mistaking it. (Apparently, her current fighting style involved slowing opponents with cold air while Luke and the other high-damage members went in for the kill.)
With Citry here, it only made sense that Lucia—who was close friends with Citry—would be around too. It seemed like Citry and the others weren't following us so much as running ahead.
It seemed this older brother of mine was worried sick.
...By the way, was it acceptable for my companions to show up when the escort had a specified headcount?
As I wrestled with whether to deflect or come clean, Franz pressed in close.
"Don't tell me this was... your doing!?"
There was no way. What on earth did Franz think I was? How could I possibly have killed a dragon far away when I'd been right there with him almost the entire time?
Kechachachaka and Telm were looking at me with expressions suggesting they found me suspicious.
But then, a revelation descended upon me.
Could this be... an excuse for why we'd left?
It would mean lying, but since I was technically the leader of the Mourning Specter, I could argue that their power was, in a sense, my own.
Hmm, but the reason I'd left was different...
"...W-Well, you're not entirely wrong, I suppose..."
"Speak clearly!"
Franz shouted at me for my wishy-washy answer.
"The Weakling was with me the entire time and did nothing."
Cruse gave me a counter-endorsement, her earnest tone at odds with her words.
Well, it was true enough... Cruse was an honest one. I offered an embarrassed smile and shrugged my shoulders.
"Anyway, this corpse isn't a big deal, so there's no need to worry about it. It's already dead either way—we should hurry on to the city."
But everywhere we went, more dragon corpses turned up.
It was practically a dragon exhibition. The situation was so far from normal that all I could do was smile wryly.
Magical beasts sliced apart and a Land Dragon cleaved in two (probably Luke's handiwork).
A Red Dragon that had died without leaving a single wound (probably Citry's work).
A Wyvern whose neck had been forcibly twisted clean off (probably Anthem and Riez's doing).
Even I, who had seen my share of hellish battlefields, had never seen this many different species of dragon in a single day.
The gruesome scenes had turned pale the faces of the proud Imperial Guard knights, Franz among them. Telm maintained his usual composure, but he clearly had something on his mind. He might have guessed that my companions were responsible.
It's fine, nothing to worry about... The ones responsible were my childhood friends.
Still, this many dragons appearing... maybe I really should consider distancing myself from Zebuldia.
--- Despite finding dragon corpses scattered everywhere along the way, we arrived at the city safely.
This was the most abnormal escort mission I'd ever experienced. The monster horde that attacked us had been annihilated without much trouble, but the mental fatigue bearing down on the knight order was beyond words.
The anxiety of not knowing what would happen next. The heavy burden of escorting the Emperor. The countless dragons appearing one after another. The lingering nightmare of yesterday's Chill Dragon attack. Members were even starting to complain of feeling unwell. It was hard to believe we'd only left the Imperial Capital two days ago.
Upon reaching the inn and being summoned by His Majesty Ladoric, Franz couldn't help but stiffen at what he heard.
"Keep the Hunters... by your side, you say?"
"Indeed. Do you have any objections?"
His Majesty Ladoric's expression was as sharp and composed as ever, with no trace of fatigue.
But that was merely what he showed on the surface—the mental burden borne by Ladoric, who carried the weight of the Empire, was beyond compare with what Franz Fargman felt.
It was a humiliation. Guarding the Emperor had always been the Imperial Guard's duty. That role had never been given to anyone else.
But he understood the reason His Majesty had given this order.
The Imperial Guard was comprised entirely of elites, but the power of Still Water—a Level 7 Hunter—was in a different league entirely. Even Kechachachaka at Level 6 and Cruse were likely superior to the Guard's Mages.
The swarm of Chill Dragons had been a disaster that the Guard's Zeroth Knight Order alone could not have handled.
"Your Majesty's words are well taken. Still Water is strong, and has the results to prove it. ...However, Thousand Transformations—that man's behavior has been clearly unnatural. I believe it would be premature to place them at your side."
He was Level 8. It wasn't hard to imagine his combat abilities were vastly superior, but his movements were simply incomprehensible.
He'd heard the rumors of brilliant strategy and cunning schemes, but none of it made sense. Franz had encountered all manner of arrogant Hunters before, but this man was somehow different from all of them.
Honestly, these were the kind of members he would never normally allow on an escort.
Moreover, there were rumors that this man took pleasure in putting his Clan members through trials.
"Indeed. But that man's innocence has been guaranteed by the 'Tears of Truth.'"
If they assumed all these attacks were the 'Fox's' doing, it meant their entire itinerary had been read. There was a high probability of a traitor within.
And when it came to who His Majesty could trust as innocent—there was only Franz, who had secretly used the 'Tears of Truth' before the Emperor to prove his innocence, and Thousand Transformations, who had done the same before everyone. Ironically, that man was also the person Franz trusted most.
When they'd found the dragon corpses, Thousand Transformations' demeanor had been noticeably calm. In a situation where even Still Water had grimaced, he had shown a strange sense of understanding.
The method was unknown, and the man himself hadn't said a word, but if Thousand Transformations had disposed of those dragons before they could attack... then dismissing that enigmatic man in a fit of anger would be far too dangerous.
Hunters were powerful. Prioritizing pride and putting the Emperor in danger—that was a judgment unbecoming of the commander who had long guarded the Emperor's life as leader of the Zeroth Knight Order.
By keeping them close, Franz could personally monitor their movements. If it was framed that way on the surface, his proud subordinates would likely accept it as well.
The eyes of Ladoric Aurum Zebuldia were transparent, as though they saw straight through Franz's heart.
The Emperor's safety had to come first. He couldn't quite keep his face from stiffening, but in a voice he managed to suppress, Franz answered: "...As Your Majesty commands."
--- In a room at the inn, Telm Apocris reviewed and analyzed the situation anew before arriving at his conclusion with a bitter expression.
He had been skeptical before, but the evidence now pointed in one direction.
Thousand Transformations was almost certainly a member of the 'Nine-Tailed Shadow Fox.' Moreover, he was likely a fairly high-ranking one.
How he had bypassed the 'Tears of Truth' was unknown, but... it needed to be verified.