The knight orders of the continent are broadly divided into three types.
First, the national knight orders operated by the imperial family or royal houses.
National knight orders are enormous in scale. Not only knights, but also many university-educated researchers of demonic beasts and dungeons work there, and their affiliated knights are mustered as officials of the state in times of emergency.
Only the most talented cadets among those in the Department of Knighthood can join these orders.
Second, the knight orders operated by noble families.
It goes without saying, but unless one possesses a fairly great domain, one cannot even dream of maintaining a knight order.
Only families whose domains are vast, where demonic beasts appear frequently, and where the likelihood of multiple dungeon formations is high, keep knight orders under their command.
Among them, Yukline’s “Hadekain Knight Order,” thanks to its outstanding location and the advantage of being based in a major city, is counted among the knight orders preferred by cadets of the Department of Knighthood.
Third, private knight orders.
Of the 108 knight orders throughout the empire, more than half are private knight orders.
National knight orders and family knight orders are often rooted in a particular region itself, but private knight orders usually establish bases only in major cities and set out on expeditions two or three times a month.
They carry out missions such as subjugating demonic beasts in the provinces, destroying settlements, and clearing dungeons, and take the spoils and sponsorship funds as the order’s income.
However, because the conditions for founding a knight order are extremely strict and demanding, new knight orders are established only once or twice a year at most.
“······What a relief.”
The main building of “Freyheim,” a newly founded knight order belonging to that third category.
Yuli looked over the accounts department’s report and let out a sigh of relief. It seemed they would be able to finish the first half of the year comfortably in the black.
Whether it was the subjugation of the demonic beast settlement or the dungeon clear, luck seemed to be on their side in many ways this year.
“Yes, all we have to do is keep working hard like this from now on······.”
Yuli leaned back in her chair and savored the languid joy.
Knock, knock—
Just then, someone knocked on the office door and entered.
“Commander Yuli.”
It was Yuli’s senior knight and the current vice-commander of Freyheim, “Rockfell.”
“Yes. Sir Rockfell. What is it?”
“Terch Company has requested that we escort a special express train.”
Rockfell stroked his bristly beard and held out the documents.
“You mean the Vercht conference?”
“Yes.”
Private knight orders sometimes accept missions in the same way adventuring parties do.
However, the degree of trust required between both parties is on an entirely different level from that of adventuring parties. Knight orders accept only missions from verified institutions or states, and only those with a strong public-interest nature.
“It’s been fifteen years since the Vercht assembly was called, and one came to us as well.”
The Terch special express train. A magitech train that precariously traverses the ridges of the cliffside mountain range, it is the only means of transportation reaching the altitude closest to the Vercht Mountains.
“I don’t know why this suddenly came to us, though.”
Rockfell spoke as if the thought disgusted him.
It was no wonder. Deculein would also be attending the Vercht assembly, and Yuli’s knights shuddered at the very mention of Deculein.
“It’s all right. You don’t need to try to dissuade me from accepting it.”
“Pardon?”
Rockfell’s eyes went round. For some reason, Yuli herself shook her head.
“Are you truly all right with it? Veron did say he wanted to take it on.”
“Veron did?”
At those words, Yuli asked back sternly. In an official setting, she was always a stiff and rigid superior.
“Yes. In fact, the mission itself came in specifically naming Veron. These days, the lad has been distinguishing himself in the protection of important persons.”
Veron. A commoner who had not even graduated from the university, yet through his unique chivalric spirit and tremendous effort, had attained skill comparable to an imperial knight of his age.
He did have a tendency to sink into solitary contemplation from time to time, but Yuli had seen with her own eyes the bravery he displayed in the Graknen Dungeon, as well as the heart with which he cherished his comrades.
“That is good. If it is Veron, he will be able to do well. I will approve it.”
In short, Veron was the knight most trusted by every member of the Freyheim Knight Order, including Yuli.
Even that fastidious Zeit had praised him highly, saying, “He has the scent of old school about him, something very rare these days.”
“But······ are you truly all right?”
“Yes. I truly am.”
“Are you certain? Veron is, to be honest, practically someone we raised on our backs.”
“······Sir Rockfell. If you doubt me any further, I will have no choice but to get angry.”
Yuli narrowed her eyes. The more he kept asking if she was all right, the more she felt as though she might become not all right.
She really was fine.
“Besides, you know as well, Sir Rockfell. Escorting a special express train is a major mission. If Veron performs it well, it will be extremely beneficial not only to our knight order’s reputation, but to his own career as well.”
“Yes. That is true, but······.”
Rockfell thought quietly.
Could it be that she had reconciled with Deculein?
He had heard there had been a meeting yesterday or so.
No, no!
Lord Zeit must have beaten him to a pulp! Otherwise······.
“Do not even think anything strange.”
Yuli, seeing right through him, cut him off firmly.
“Ah, yes. Ahem. But, Commander. What are you doing today?”
“I have somewhere to stop by today.”
“Hmm. I had been thinking of a company dinner, but if you have business, there’s no helping it. I’ll take my leave, then.”
Rockfell scratched the back of his neck and left.
“······Haa.”
Yuli let out a sigh. Then she glanced beneath her desk. At her feet lay a bouquet of flowers she intended to give someone today.
It was a person whose face and name she did not know, but morally, she thought it only right to show her face at least once, so she had bought flowers like this.
“I still cannot trust him, but······”
Of course, that did not mean she trusted Deculein.
But if he truly carried through with his own words and kept them, if he changed like that and one day became different enough to confess his sins and apologize······.
Yuli looked around.
There was nothing that could be called a mirror.
Until now, she had never paid any attention to adorning her face.
Having no choice, she picked up the nameplate on her desk.
It reflected somewhat like a mirror.
Yuli puffed out her cheeks once and tried smiling. When she tugged the corners of her mouth u-u-up, the area around her lips trembled.
It was awkward.
Well, it had been nearly three years since she had last properly smiled.
“Oh, right! Um, Commander······?”
Just then, Rockfell came in again.
Rockfell saw Yuli holding a long nameplate up to her face and smiling grotesquely.
“······.”
“······.”
After they merely blinked at each other for a moment, Rockfell went back outside first.
Yuli quietly put the nameplate down. Then, with her arms folded, she calmly thought as though nothing had happened just now.
Escorting the special express train. If it was a train escort, it could be called an opportunity. If it was Veron, he would protect them well, and he would be able to make his own underestimated abilities known to the world.
If the imperial knight order came to scout him, she would even be willing to let him go with pride······.
Knock, knock—
This time, with a proper knock, Rockfell entered again.
“Commander. I have one more thing to report.”
“Yes. What is it? Speak at once.”
Rockfell spoke as though nothing had happened, and Yuli answered as though she had been waiting, but for some reason, both of their faces kept growing hot.
* * *
A place called a cemetery stirs up unfamiliar emotions by its atmosphere alone.
It is nothing more than a grass field where numerous tombstones have been placed.
Yet the wind that blows feels like someone’s hand, and the chirping of insects sounds like voices from some distant world.
The feeling I, who had come alone to such a place, felt was loneliness.
······Only loneliness.
I walked along the path, searching for someone.
Deculein’s deceased fiancée. I did not know her name or face, of course, but knowing his personality, I felt he would have made it stand out.
I looked over the area and stepped through the grass.
Splendid graves, modest bronze plaques, well-tended tombstones, grave markers buried in weeds······ wherever my gaze touched, there was the story of the dead.
“Hmm?”
Beneath the sky where the light of the sunset had settled and spread like pink paint, suddenly—
“······As expected. Yeriel came by.”
A bouquet so fresh it seemed to have just been placed caught my eye. From the budding blossoms, the pleasant scent I had smelled this morning shimmered.
It was Yeriel’s perfume.
I smiled bitterly and stood before the tombstone that held that bouquet. Perhaps because a shower had fallen late in the afternoon, droplets of water clung to its surface.
“······.”
I simply stared at the name engraved upon that small, modest tombstone.
I stared for a long time.
I had no choice but to.
“You really are······.”
Should I call it ingenious, or should I call it cruel?
I simply thought it was perverse.
A name that was nothing more than a few letters. Yet that name was stirring up a certain sorrow in me.
“······Why.”
This was not Deculein’s.
It belonged to no one else; it was wholly mine.
The emotion that ignited in my heart touched my entire body.
Everything I had forced myself to forget came back to me.
It hurt as if my flesh were being carved away. It was hard to breathe, as if my throat were being strangled.
All of it was because of the name engraved on this tombstone.
[ Yuara von Vergiss meinnicht ]
[ Yuara von Vergiss meinnicht ]
[ The person who was always grateful to you ]
Perhaps it was an Easter egg.
Just as Deculein’s model had been Kim Woojin.
Her own name, which she must have secretly inserted.
I was dumbfounded.
It was strange, I was angry, and I was curious.
Why on earth did you
give your name
to Deculein’s deceased fiancée?
And why on earth
were you grateful to me?
“······Grateful, my ass. Was this from before we broke up?”
I tried muttering playfully, but the reverberation spreading like ripples did not stop.
The trembling would not cease.
Your voice, as though whispering in my ear, was endlessly dragging out memories from long ago.
When I closed my eyes, they returned as vividly as if they had happened yesterday.
You, who once shyly smiled and praised my drawings; who took off your coat and gave it to me when I was blue with cold on a winter night; who said you loved me and nestled in my arms; who lifted me up when I had collapsed; who, even while crying, even while angry, stayed by my side through seven years; who laughed with me unchanged; who were the only person I had after I lost my family—
You, who still make my heart tremble even now,
like snow falling belatedly······
No, like snow that had already been piling up since long ago,
are covering my heart.
I knelt on one knee.
I took off my glove and wiped the moisture from the tombstone.
Your name revealed itself even more clearly.
You would not know.
That simply your name.
That this name you engraved like a prank.
That it is approaching me now as far too great a weight.
“······.”
My breath came short. My vision blurred.
Not once had I ever been like this.
Right now, not as Deculein, but as Kim Woojin······
I still love you.
—Rustle.
Just then, the sharp sound of someone stepping on leaves. A blade flashed through my mind.
I came to my senses and hurriedly rose. A single tear that had gathered ran down my cheek. My disheveled hair pricked at the corner of my eye.
Someone was looking at me.
“······You.”
I instinctively frowned.
She only stood there without a word. On her face was a rare look of surprise.
Returned once more to the world, more than anything else, I felt mortified.