Chapter 63 - It Was There, Though (4)

The fifth floor of the labyrinth city, a place of green meadows and ruins.

There, where the traces of that day's battle remained even half a year later, it appeared.

FLAP

A black holy shroud billowing around it, the hooded figure began walking through the fifth floor, ominous black ornaments adorning its waist and hand.

It walked across the place where the mercenaries had fought the Outer God half a year ago, then across the spot where Alon had stood. Finally, it stopped where he had finished off the Outer God.

It began tilting its head from side to side, over and over, as though it found this exceedingly strange—and utterly incomprehensible.

How much time passed like that?

The figure, which until a moment ago had stood utterly motionless, staring at the ground, finally spoke with a broad smile, as though something had greatly amused it.

"Ha. I never imagined you could go this far."

A quiet murmur.

Speaking in a voice that could have belonged to either a man or a woman, it seemed to glance around before twitching its right hand.

HUM

After confirming that the black ornaments were resonating, it turned.

"Interesting. Just how much further can you go? Things have gotten interesting."

With an innocent smile, like a child who had discovered an amusing toy, it began walking toward one side of the fifth floor.

"If you can endure the next one too, things will become truly entertaining."

It walked toward a stretch of ground with no exit whatsoever—and, at some point, vanished completely.

####

It hardly needed saying, but Radan was utterly loyal to the Great Moon.

Without him, Radan could never have gained the immense power he now possessed, nor could he have avenged his family.

In other words, his loyalty was unquestionably directed toward the Great Moon.

And yet, the reason that loyalty seemed somewhat pale by comparison was...

["Let's kill them all. Right now."]

["That sounds good."]

["I agree."]

["As do I."]

["..."]

...the overwhelming intensity of the loyalty displayed by the other members of the Blue Moon.

["So where are these Proxies?"]

["From what I heard, they're scattered throughout the allied kingdoms. There seem to be about fifteen in total. I've reduced that number by three, so there should be twelve now."]

["You didn't kill them without finding out where the others were, did you?"]

["Of course not. I haven't located all of them, but I did determine where their leader and several others are."]

["That's a relief."]

["Tell me. Hurry, right now. I'm going to kill them."]

["That sounds good."]

Seollang's words, her eerie golden eyes gleaming, and Rine's chilling murmur, her earlier grin erased as she returned to her utterly impassive expression...

["I intend to kill one of them after the meeting as well. Apparently, there's a Proxy near Callivan."]

Watching Deus, too, his purple eyes flashing as he held his sword as though ready to rush out the instant the meeting ended, Radan sensed madness.

'... No, I think we ought to make a plan first.'

Radan discreetly gauged the others' moods.

Even as he did so, the members casually exchanged remarks about tearing the Proxies apart or ripping their heads off. He wasn't quite accustomed to such conversations.

Previously, Yutia had been the only member who behaved like that. Most of the others had acted quite rationally.

'They've changed so much. And... honestly, I never thought even Rine would become like this.'

He looked at Rine and the other members, who had changed beyond recognition in just a few years, then spoke.

["I think we should calmly share our information and formulate a plan first."]

A cautious yet eminently reasonable suggestion.

But...

["Are you serious?"]

["Radan, what if they harm the Great Moon while we're making plans?"]

["Exactly!"]

["I agree."]

Though his suggestion was unquestionably the most rational, Deus rejected it, followed by Yutia, Seollang, and Rine. Radan paused to catch his breath.

["... Everyone, calm down. You're too worked up. Shouldn't we share what we know about the Proxies first? We need to establish how strong they are."]

Another reasonable statement.

But...

["Radan."]

["What is it?"]

["Radan, don't tell me you're a traitor?"]

["?"]

Seollang's absurd suspicion, delivered with flashing golden eyes, left Radan suddenly dizzy.

["No, wait... How did you suddenly arrive at the conclusion that I'm a traitor?"]

["But Radan, you've been arguing against killing the Proxies this whole time, haven't you?"]

["I'm not arguing against it. We need to assess the situation accurately fir—"]

He stopped himself and closed his mouth.

He could see the disgruntled gazes directed at him through the images.

Instinctively realizing that nothing more he said would make any difference, he raised the white flag.

["I'll begin preparations immediately as well."]

Satisfied with that answer, the four members nodded and resumed their conversation.

Watching them, Radan recalled how relatively normal the organization had been two years ago—aside from Yutia—and thought once more of the Great Moon.

'... He definitely has a hypnosis artifact.'

He reached that conclusion in all seriousness.

About thirty minutes later...

["Ah... Talking about this suddenly brings to mind that sight the Great Moon showed us..."]

Deus abruptly interrupted their discussion of the Proxies with an effusive outburst of unsolicited worship. That marked the end of the meeting.

["Everyone, move out immediately. We'll hold a proper meeting once all of this is finished."]

At Yutia's words, the Blue Moon began to move.

####

The following day, after resting at a mansion owned by the Duchess of Altia, Alon set out around evening, when the festivities at the royal castle were getting underway.

Upon arriving at the castle, he bade Evan farewell and stepped away.

"I'll be back."

"I'll be waiting."

Evan gave a slight bow. As he straightened, he witnessed countless nobles following his master into the royal ballroom in unison.

Watching nobles who could, in a sense, sway all of Asteria fall into step behind Alon, Evan felt his master's standing anew.

'Well... my lord's fame is already immense... And he's the head of the Sword Faction, too.'

Alon himself didn't seem particularly concerned about his fame, but to Evan, who had watched it grow firsthand, the difference felt enormous.

Unlike in the past, when he had been shunned or feared at balls, Alon was now a leader who commanded the majority of the nobles.

And that wasn't all.

Given the reputation Alon had built, it must have been common knowledge that the monarch would openly move to check his power. Yet so many nobles still stood behind him.

In other words, those following him believed that Alon stood a chance even against Asteria's current monarch.

'... Well, judging by the rumors alone, they certainly have good reason to think so.'

While Evan was making that assessment, Alon, walking at the head of those nobles, realized that the situation was taking a rather strange turn.

'Uh, uhh... Something's wrong here.'

'This makes it look like I'm heading in for a frontal assault, doesn't it?'

He discreetly glanced back.

Countless nobles who supported him were following behind.

'No, this isn't the impression I had in mind...?'

His plan had been simple: during the royal audience that customarily preceded the ball, he would listen to a lecture from the monarch, then contrive a plausible reason to retain the Sword Faction to a reasonable extent.

But marching in like this, openly looking for a fight, hardly seemed likely to end with a mere scolding.

Still, worrying wouldn't change the situation. With no other choice, he reached the royal ballroom, opened the doors, and entered.

'Oh.'

The moment he stepped inside, he couldn't help admiring it.

True to its reputation, it was larger than any ballroom he had ever visited—and extraordinarily beautiful.

Alon stood gazing blankly into the vast space with the doors still open. Soon, he turned his eyes and became aware of the nobles' attention fixed upon him.

"..."

As far as he could tell, the looks directed at him fell into two categories.

Some gazed at him with awe.

Others wore openly mocking smiles. Naturally, the latter overwhelmingly outnumbered the former.

He had a rough idea why the nobles down in the ballroom wore those expressions.

'They must be enjoying this because they think I mindlessly expanded my power and now I'm about to get smacked down by the monarch.'

Realizing that most of those smirking nobles belonged to either the aristocratic faction or the royalist faction, Alon sighed lightly and proceeded to his audience with the monarch.

At the far end of the enormous ballroom, he could see her.

Critenia Siyan, Asteria's eighth monarch.

"..."

As he approached from afar, he could see that Queen Critenia Siyan was exceptionally beautiful.

Her golden eyes, the very symbol of Asteria's royal bloodline, reflected the light from the terrace and shone brilliantly despite her impassive expression.

Her beauty was so devastating that it tempted even the nobles into the impropriety of surreptitiously raising their heads to look.

Of course, Alon was focused on hoping that what came next would unfold as he wished, so her appearance was hardly a priority.

Soon, he reached Critenia Siyan and bowed his head deeply in a formal greeting.

"A servant of Asteria pays his respects to Your Majesty."

The queen, who had remained silent until then, spoke.

"Raise your head."

Her expression was impassive.

Alon naturally lifted his head.

"Are you Count Pallatio?"

"Yes."

At the queen's next words, smiles appeared in unison on the faces of the nobles who had been sneering at Alon.

For the royalist and aristocratic factions, this was the highlight of the evening: watching the Sword Faction, which had caused them so much grief, receive a sanctioned thrashing.

Thus, every one of them watched Count Pallatio with a smile steeped in malice.

Unfortunately, that lasted only an instant. The mocking nobles' smiles vanished at once.

"???"

Every one of them was left wearing a bewildered expression.

The reason was what Queen Critenia Siyan said next.

"Very well, Count Pallatio. I shall elevate you to the rank of marquis."

Upon hearing those words, Alon could only blurt out a dazed response.

"... Pardon?"