"Antenor, Polus, get ready to switch shifts."
Only at the voice calling them did the kicking finally stop. Antenor lay collapsed on the floor, clutching his kicked stomach as he gasped for breath. From right above him came the sound of shoulders bumping and snickering laughter.
"Polus. What are you going to do if you kill a comrade? Haven't you been worse lately?"
"Spouting nonsense. What comrade? He's just a dirty bastard who grovels for money. This is exactly why you can't give important duties to lowborn trash. Ptui."
Spittle landed on Antenor's face. Unable to wipe the filthy spit with his cherished and treasured knight's uniform, Antenor rubbed his face against the dirt floor. Sand clung to his cheek from the viscous saliva.
"I... I told you. I never took any bribes."
"Are you trying to play innocent when the inside of the prison turned into a luxurious inn during your guard shift? You have no shame."
Polus cracked his thick neck from side to side as he sneered.
Not even a day had passed since Evangeline Rohanson was imprisoned, yet the bleak prison interior had transformed into something cozy. Someone had clearly accepted bribes from Rohanson and turned a blind eye to the furniture being brought in. The one fingered as the culprit was none other than Antenor.
However, Antenor had absolutely never accepted bribes nor helped smuggle in furniture. Polus bristled with anger and acted as if he would kick Antenor again. It was their superior who blocked the signs of impending violence.
"What are you doing! Why aren't you going to switch shifts quickly?"
Polus moved his feet with regret, and at the urgent words, Antenor also grit his teeth and rose from the dirt floor.
Before the wounds Antenor received yesterday could even heal, new wounds crowded on top of them. His leg must have been kicked incorrectly, for his joints ached every time he stepped on the ground, leaving him no choice but to walk with a limp. Dragging his ruined body down to the underground, Argentis, who had been waiting for his replacement, chuckled as he patted Antenor's shoulder.
"It's tough, but good work. Ah, I made a bit of a mess on the floor—Antenor, could you clean it up? If it's too much to do alone, you can call the Rohanson people."
The knights tittered as if they had heard some magnificent joke. Antenor ground his teeth as he watched Argentis's back ascending the stairs at his leisure.
"Looks like Argentis had another episode. You clean it up."
Argentis seemed to have overturned all the food given for Evangeline Rohanson's share onto the floor. And cleaning that up became Antenor's responsibility. Polus acted as if the food waste dirtying the floor represented Argentis's integrity.
Antenor had always been marginalized, but since Argentis started showing open hostility, the physical violence had become even harsher. Everyone had sided with Argentis. Argentis was Sir Muzetta's maternal nephew, monopolized his superior's favor, and his family background was by no means insignificant.
In comparison, what of Antenor himself? His parents were tenant farmers in the countryside, and due to their fierce personalities, they received no affection—rather, they were treated as thorns in people's sides.
A knight of commoner origin reeking of poverty. A fool with nothing but stubbornness. A half-wit who sold his honor for greed. The underling of the knight order who didn't refuse any kind of menial work. Those were the words that described Antenor.
That was why he had respected Sir Gabriel.
Even though they belonged to different orders, Sir Gabriel was someone who had risen to the position of knight commander alone, an orphan without family background. Sir Gabriel was truly remarkable. Even filthy creatures like Argentis admired Sir Gabriel. Antenor had projected himself onto Sir Gabriel, envisioning that if he endured in this corrupt knight order, someday a day of reward would come.
But Sir Gabriel was ruined. Could someone who abandoned god and chose worldly desire even be called a holy knight? Could someone who abandoned their convictions be called a knight?
Having lost both religion and chivalry, Gabriel was nothing more than a fool unworthy of even the title "sir." And the existence that had reduced Sir Gabriel to a mere idiot was right before his eyes.
Some called her a witch who had bewitched the holy knight, while others spoke of her as an heinous devil who had assassinated the Crown Prince.
The sight of her leisurely leaning against a sofa and turning the pages of a book seemed so at ease that it felt as though the one imprisoned was not Evangeline Rohanson but Antenor himself, cleaning up food waste.
"Kuuugh... kuh..."
Polus, who had said he stayed up all night running a gambling ring yesterday, began dozing off in his chair, contrary to his boast about properly monitoring Antenor.
The underground was exceedingly quiet except for Polus's snoring. It would have remained so if only Evangeline Rohanson hadn't suddenly spoken up after a long silence.
"How did you get hurt like that?"
A voice deceiving Antenor whispered. Asking how he got hurt? Who was responsible for my injuries! Evangeline Rohanson had arbitrarily brought in furniture, and wasn't that sin directed at the innocent Antenor?
"It's because of you."
As Antenor spat out his anger at Evangeline, he thought he had spoken too loudly in his excitement and rolled his eyes to check on Polus. And his eyes met Polus, who was staring wide-eyed. The unpleasant face was wrinkled and beaming with ecstasy. Come to think of it, when had the snoring stopped?
"What secret conversation are you two having? Look at this. It turns out you really were in cahoots."
Polus stomped Antenor's head into the floor. Then he grabbed his hair and dragged him to the iron bars. Since he couldn't lay hands on Evangeline directly, he was venting his anger this way.
"Lady Rohanson. Since this one is getting beaten because of you, please watch carefully."
Through Antenor's blurry vision, Evangeline came into view. Despite relying on faint candlelight in the underground that was utterly dark, she appeared uniquely clear and bright. Her red eyes met his. A color that felt chilling just from looking. When the smile faded, the raw creature beneath the surface revealed itself. A witch who bewitched Sir Gabriel? Evangeline's true nature was not a being to be looked down upon with such words.
Evangeline existed to receive worship, not to be diminished by talk of bewitchment. When faint displeasure settled on her indifferent face, he felt like strangling himself to apologize.
Antenor now feared Evangeline's two eyes more than Polus, who was currently committing violence against him.
Such an overwhelming and bizarre existence was crumpled into a slender body and quietly placed inside the iron bars. Did others really think these mere iron bars would impose constraints on Evangeline Rohanson?
That was why Argentis could pour out food in mockery, and Polus could loosen his tension and fall asleep. Stupidly enough, hadn't Antenor also thought that way until just now, which was why he hadn't held back his anger?
In truth, the iron bars exercised no binding force whatsoever on Evangeline Rohanson.
"Kugh... W-what is this...!"
Polus's body began to slowly rise into the air. He clutched his throat as if being strangled by invisible hands and writhed in pain. Polus tried to release what was choking his throat, but nothing was there, so he could only scratch at his own neck.
Evangeline tilted her head as she watched Polus in pain. Her hair flowed down softly with the movement.
"Shouldn't manners come first?"
She was taking revenge for Polus's words earlier about "showing manners" as he had driven Antenor's head into the floor. No, in truth, perhaps this was making him pay for his insolence toward Evangeline.
Polus shed tears. His neck bones felt like they would break, unable to withstand the force. His windpipe was constricted, making him cough emptily and gasp for breath. Antenor watched without missing a single moment of Polus's agony.
Soon, the sound of something breaking was heard. Polus's body went limp and was dropped to the floor. The sound of one person's breathing disappeared. When the violently inhaled breath was cut off, the surroundings suddenly grew quiet.
"Did he die...?"
He's dead! The sense of gratification was fleeting as Antenor's face turned pale. Since Evangeline was inside the prison, wouldn't the crime of killing Polus fall on Antenor again? Like Argentis and Polus had done, the other knights did not consider Evangeline, trapped behind iron bars, to be a threat.
However, Evangeline Rohanson said that Polus would rise again. How could a dead person rise again!
But Polus truly rose from his spot just as she said. Due to his broken neck bone unable to bear the weight of his head, his neck kept folding, yet he still rose alive.
"He won't be able to use violence against you ever again."
That was certainly true. That thing brought back to life was not the previous Polus. He was nothing more than a puppet moving as Evangeline Rohanson willed, not a living person.
When Evangeline ordered him to leave, Polus held his folded head upright with both hands and exited the underground. When he let go of his hands midway, his head wobbled and swayed.
"Shall I help you?"
Evangeline asked, her red eyes shining. A white hand slowly extended through the iron bars. The fine, slender hand beguiled Antenor as if telling him to grasp it quickly. The merciless grip that had strangled Polus's throat felt like a hand of salvation to Antenor.
"I'll make sure creatures like that can't torment you anymore."
Antenor realized how the witch had seduced Sir Gabriel. The monster was so dangerously beautiful that it could bewitch everyone, and it spoke only the most pleasing words.
Could she really save Antenor from the other knights' violence? Despite being imprisoned as a suspect in the Crown Prince's assassination, Evangeline Rohanson spoke as if she could grant everything.
"Really, really... will you make it so other bastards can't touch me?"
It wasn't what Antenor had wanted when he first put on his knight's uniform—to be respected and stand above others like Sir Gabriel. But hadn't what Evangeline Rohanson just shown also been subjugating the opponent with overwhelming power and ultimately standing above them? Antenor grasped Evangeline's extended hand with his trembling hand.
"Wh-what should I do?"
When Antenor asked, Evangeline told him the instructions he would have to follow from now on.
"I'm anxious because I can't reach Sir Gabriel."
If Evangeline wished, he would become a messenger bird conveying her words.
"I want to know some outside news."
"Yes. I will tell you anything I know."
Whether his answer pleased her, Evangeline smiled brightly. That smile was so beautiful that, having come to know it contained something that could ruin people with a single glance, the sense of dissonance grew even greater.
"Your name?"
"Antenor. Antenor Nain."
"Good, Sir Ante. It's time to switch shifts, isn't it? Let's meet again next time."
Hearing the kind farewell promising the next meeting, Antenor left the underground prison. Coming outside, Polus, whose neck had been folded, was behaving as usual as if nothing had happened. It felt like what had just occurred in the underground prison was a dream.
Was it really a dream? As Polus approached, Antenor curled up in fear. Polus put his arm around Antenor's shoulder and pressed down on his body as he usually did. However, unlike the tight grip that left bruises, today his hold was very light.
"Hey. Ante, you're late."
Hearing the following words, Antenor relaxed his body and felt relieved. It wasn't a dream. The usual Polus didn't call Antenor by embarrassing pet names. 'Sir Ante.' 'Ante.' That was how Evangeline Rohanson addressed Antenor.
Just as the other knights had cursed Antenor, he had truly become someone in cahoots with Evangeline.
At that moment, a servant came running, sweating profusely, with a message tied to him. The superior who received and read it had his face grow gravely serious.
"Knights, fall in!"
At the superior's shout, the other knights who had been giggling, and Polus too, straightened their postures.
"His Majesty has ordered us to capture the criminal who assassinated the Crown Prince."
At those words, several knights looked down toward the underground prison. However, the person mentioned in the following words was an entirely different person.
"Tenebrei Reverdi, the assassin of the Crown Prince, is on the run. Except for the minimum personnel guarding the prison, the rest will be deployed to find Princess Tenebrei. Prepare yourselves."
Antenor straightened his sword with his limping leg. A fellow knight who looked on disapprovingly raised an objection.
"Captain. That bastard Antenor is limping, so he'll only be a hindrance to the pursuit."
"Right. Antenor, you'd better just guard the prison."
Though it was essentially a measure depriving Antenor of the chance to earn merit, Antenor quietly accepted the order instead of obeying his superior's command. It was also more convenient for Antenor to remain at the prison to convey words to Lady Rohanson. Once his comrades disappeared, he would immediately go down to the underground to deliver the message.