Chapter 28
As the violently gusting wind bent the trees as if they might snap, making them wail, even the most seasoned knights could not hide their fear. The red sky, as though it might at any moment reek of blood, was enough to summon the deepest terror.
Lionel shouted in a firm voice toward the knights who were wavering with unease.
“Do not look up! Fear grows as much as you imagine it, and the greater the fear, the duller your sword becomes!”
At his words, the knights who had been staring blankly at the sky quickly lowered their heads and fixed their gaze straight ahead. Lionel swiftly surveyed the terrain and began issuing rapid orders.
“First Company, Second Platoon, forward! Third and Fourth Platoons, reinforce behind the Second Platoon!”
Lionel was not only the finest knight in Ehmonte but also excelled at situational judgment, skillfully deploying troops where they were needed most. Despite facing countless situations in which they had to hold back magical beasts without a mage’s support, the casualties of the knight order he led were kept to a minimum—not only because of each knight’s individual ability, but because of Lionel’s presence. To the knights, Lionel was an absolute object of loyalty and trust.
Following Lionel’s command, the knights moved in perfect unison. Maintaining their individual attack ranges as they stood intercrossed, they formed a massive formation resembling a donut-shaped chessboard. Each knight would hold their position and fend off the onrushing magical beasts.
Lionel stepped several paces farther ahead of the formation.
“Our objective is to hold back the magical beasts pouring out until the very moment the tower is destroyed!! Formation, hold your positions!!”
Now, cutting across the sky fully stained crimson, a vast black calamity was drawing closer with each passing second. Lionel glanced around and muttered quietly.
“Are the mages still not here?!”
“Yes, Your Highness. Not yet.”
Even though the tower was descending so quickly, the mages were still absent! They might not appear until after the knights had died in droves.
He did not voice the thought aloud, but Lionel had already witnessed such things more than once. Still, he could not allow the knights to shed meaningless blood even within the imperial palace, where the mages were so close at hand.
“Run to the Mage Corps’ residence immediately and summon the mages!”
“Yes, sir.”
At Lionel’s order, the deputy commander quickly turned and disappeared.
Yet both Lionel and the departing deputy commander knew that it was uncertain how faithfully the mages would respond to this summons. Even so, the reality that they had no choice but to bow to it was infuriating.
In the end, what could destroy that distant calamity was not the knights’ swords, but the mages’ mana.
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Those who can freely wield mana in response to the tower’s magic power are collectively called “mages.”
Ehmonte managed its mages by affiliating them with the Imperial Mage Corps. Though an armed organization, the Imperial Mage Corps did not belong to the Ministry of Defense and was instead placed directly under the Emperor’s authority.
Mages were broadly divided into two types: offensive mages were called “Strikers,” and defensive mages were called “Keepers.”
The commander of the Imperial Mage Corps was Duke Augus Ulrich Despone, and the deputy commander was Count Lennox Poitiers. Lennox Poitiers was a first-class Striker and, in name and reality, one of Ehmonte’s top-tier mages. That a commoner-born man had obtained a hereditary count’s title was no coincidence.
Count Lennox Poitiers looked indifferently at Henri Jacal, the deputy commander of the Imperial Guard, who had come running in a fluster.
“So?” he said.
Despite the deputy commander’s murderous glare, Lennox casually fastened the buttons of his robe and asked again,
“You want me to come right now?”
Henri Jacal hardened his eyes and spoke in a tone that sounded as though he were grinding out the words.
“By order of the Minister of Defense. The Mage Corps is to assemble immediately in the Rose Garden, where the tower is descending.”
“That’s inconvenient right now. Besides, we’re under His Majesty the Emperor’s direct authority, so there’s no particular need for us to heed the Minister of Defense’s orders. You know that, don’t you?”
“……”
“Oh dear—looks like I buttoned this wrong.”
Lennox grinned broadly as he showed his crookedly fastened robe.
“Just a moment, just a moment~ I know it’s urgent. I said I’ll go, didn’t I?”
Yet contrary to his words, his hands kept moving leisurely, and as he adjusted his robe while looking in the mirror, there was not the slightest hint of urgency. Henri Jacal clenched both fists with all his strength.
“Oh, right—Sir Jacal. I hear salaries weren’t paid this time? Of course, you’re the second son of Count Jacal’s house, so it doesn’t matter to you, but if any of your subordinates are suffering financially, shall I give you one of my buttons? With the gold plating, it should fetch a decent price.”
“If you’ve got time to spout that nonsense, hurry up and prepare, Lennox Poitiers.”
When Henri Jacal warned him in a deeply sunken voice, Lennox turned away from the mirror and stepped right up to him.
“You shouldn’t act like that, Henri Jacal. You desperately need my help right now, don’t you? The later I arrive, the greater the casualties among the knights will be. Isn’t that right?”
“The tower has descended into the imperial palace—do you think the mages will be fine? The Imperial Mage Corps will not be able to avoid responsibility either!”
At those words, Lennox curved his long eyes into a smile, took a gold-plated button from his pocket, and dropped it at his feet. The button hit the floor with a clatter and rolled off into a corner.
“Not me.”
“……”
“Even if the mages are reprimanded later, not me. What if the world turns into hell? As long as I’m not in that hell, what does it matter? So, Henri Jacal—don’t get on my bad side. There are ways to keep this from going too far.”
Lennox tapped Henri’s shoulder lightly and walked off at a leisurely pace. Henri Jacal closed his eyes as rage surged up inside him.
It was infuriating, but with Dian Poitiers and Duke Despone backing him, Lennox could indeed act this way. There was absolutely no way to resolve this humiliation, this insult. It felt as though his chest were burning black.
But—even if Lionel Baldur led the knight order, if the mages did not come, it was obvious that only the knights, the first line of defense, would bleed. How many times had he seen such a sight? The tower would soon touch the ground, and the knights would have to fight the magical beasts with everything they had.
Enduring personal humiliation and disgrace was better than watching his comrades be sacrificed meaninglessly.
“Sir Poitiers!”
Henri Jacal bit his lip hard, then shouted loudly. At his cry, Lennox Poitiers, who had been walking leisurely with his hand in his pocket, half turned around. Henri Jacal was staring at him with a stiff, rigid face.
“What? If you called me, you should speak.”
Though his tone was mocking, Henri could no longer afford to provoke him. He took a deep breath and then bowed his head in a respectful posture. As his head lowered further and further, Lennox’s sky-blue eyes flashed.
Thrilling.
“We ask for the mages’ cooperation.”
Ah—thrilling.
How grateful he was for this blood-red sky. The black calamity descending from the heavens was a blessing to Lennox Poitiers, a gift from God. When he saw that pitch-black disaster rushing toward the imperial palace, he had felt genuine joy. Thanks to it, wasn’t a noble knight bowing his head all the way down?
Still, this wasn’t quite enough.
Lennox turned and approached Henri Jacal, who was bowing his head. Placing both hands on his shoulders, he said,
“Do you think this is enough to repay your rudeness?”
“……”
“You should at least kneel. Don’t you think so, Sir Jacal?”
With his head bowed, Henri closed his eyes and clenched his teeth so hard they might shatter. Lennox pressed down on his shoulders with more force. The young deputy commander’s shoulders began to sink lower and lower. As if he intended to engrave this scene into his memory, Lennox stepped back and stared intently at Henri.
Thud.
It was as if such a sound echoed. The right knee of the proud deputy commander of the Imperial Guard touched the floor. Then his left knee touched the ground as well.
“We ask for your cooperation.”
He wondered if his entire body might melt at this rate. Lennox squeezed his eyes shut, trembling with ecstatic delight.
No matter how many times he saw it, it was always new and enjoyable. Unable to contain the laughter rising from his gut, Lennox began to laugh. Amid the blood-red sky and the black calamity drawing closer by the second, the sound of laughter ringing out was truly grotesque. But if everyone else was in hell, what did it matter? As long as he alone stood in a flower garden, what difference did it make whether that place was a pool of blood or not?
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Madam Giggs was at a loss, asking just what on earth she thought she was doing. The person who should have evacuated first had not only shown no intention of leaving, but had even put on a perfectly fitted training uniform. That alone was enough to make one anxious, but then she went and strapped a long, slender sword to her back. Even the seasoned old lady could not make sense of this situation.
But Adele had no intention of making her understand anyway, so she simply said what she wanted to say.
“There’s no need to run. If the red sky frightens you, then pull a blanket over your head and take a nap.”
