Chapter 32 : Chapter 32
Chapter 32: The Banquet Hall (2)
The second floor of the central castle. A massive banquet hall.
Jahar and Ael, who were secretly exchanging greetings.
A woman presumed to be Arnea.
And finally, Medeoban and Janya, who was wearing a stiff expression.
The core of Mectera had all gathered.
“You’ve come. Hurry and sit.”
“Yes.”
Medeoban was at the head of the table.
This meant that this banquet was a family gathering, not one for the family's business.
‘Even if he doesn’t like him, the Sword Master is still the Sword Master.’
If it had been the former, Medeoban would have seated Orde at the head of the table. The master of every head seat in the Holy Land of the Sword is the Sword Master.
For Medeoban, who cherished Mectera more than anyone, that common sense was something that had to be upheld.
‘Though he’s been corrupted, that’s about him disliking an outsider becoming Sword Master.
His affection for Mectera is still the same.’
To Medeoban’s right sat the siblings, and to his left were Arnea and Janya. Beden was not present.
Simurtr was ill-mannered, but he did not want Beden, who was younger than the siblings, to join this gathering.
‘Come here.’
Ael mouthed the words, pointing to the seat next to her. Simurtr sat down beside Ael.
“Bring out the meal.”
As Orde sat next to Arnea, Medeoban spoke. The servant who had been guarding the entrance to the banquet hall headed for the kitchen.
At that sight, Simurtr suppressed a laugh.
He didn't know the reason, but Medeoban was acting the part of a benevolent grandfather.
“Yes. This is the first time we have all gathered like this. We should have had a gathering sooner.”
“We can just have them more often from now on. Right, Lady Janya?”
“…Of course.”
When Arnea looked back, Janya’s face was stiff. It was so awkward that she was no different from a mannequin.
‘Does she really have nothing?’
Simurtr tilted his head as he looked at Janya. He had known for a while that she was not a good actor.
That was why he thought she had something to rely on. But her current behavior was far from it.
‘Is it really not Degrate?’
Degrate, a house that rivals any great noble family, even without a title. If Degrate was her backer, there was no way she would be so scared.
In the first place, they would have provided an escape route with a Phantasmal Ability.
“It’s been a while, Lady Janya.”
“…Yes. Have you been well?”
“Yes. Thanks to you, I have been well. The mission area happened to be next to your family’s territory, so I was thinking of paying my respects……”
Janya lowered her hands under the table as she answered. Her whole body trembled slightly, but she managed to smile.
At least, that’s how it looked to Simurtr.
And to Ael as well.
Tap.
Ael tapped Simurtr’s thigh.
“An urgent matter came up, so my greetings were delayed. I see you returned before me.”
Simurtr finished speaking and looked at Ael.
‘What.’
‘Save that for last.’
You’re the bombshell. Ael mouthed the words.
“I was in a state of disarray. Count Jabad’s condition is not good……”
“Oh, dear.”
Janya had chosen the sympathy card.
Simurtr clicked his tongue and replied cursorily, then, poke, poke, poke. He grabbed Ael’s hand that was jabbing his side. When their eyes met, Ael looked at Arnea.
It must have meant that he should talk to Arnea before setting off the bomb. Ael did not want her own mother to end up in the same state as Janya.
Simurtr removed Ael’s hand and shifted his gaze to Arnea. Arnea was looking this way. Her eyes were filled with interest.
Completely full of it.
“This is the first time we’re seeing each other in person. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“I am Simurtr.”
Simurtr returned Arnea’s smiling eyes with a smile of his own. It was the first time seeing her in person. But she didn't feel that unfamiliar.
Sky-blue hair and eyes.
‘She’s a Dujeu, indeed.’
That sky-blue was the symbol of the Dujeu.
The swordsmen of the Sword Tower refer to that color as the sky of the Sword Tower.
“I am Arnea. I’m sorry. I should have seen you as soon as I came to the main castle.”
“If I had known you would be this pleased, I would have tried to contact you sooner.”
“I would have been very happy if you had. We have been distant. I hope we can become closer from now on.”
“I hope for the same.”
Simurtr and Arnea looked at each other and smiled. Ael watched the scene with bated breath. This was after she had pinched the side of Jahar, who was smiling fondly.
“You may think of me as your mother.”
Just chanting the word Dujeu brought about a feeling of nostalgia. He was suddenly reminded of that sensitive subordinate.
‘I have to endure it.’
The Sword Tower is reclusive. It’s hard to hear information.
If he asked Arnea, he might be able to get some news.
But no matter how he thought about it, that scene was utterly awkward.
“That’s alright. I am satisfied enough as it is.”
And calling Arnea ‘mother’ was even more so. It wasn’t because the other person was a familiar Dujeu.
Including his past life, he already had two mothers. He had no intention of increasing the number.
“What a shame. It was a chance to make a cute youngest son. If you ever feel like calling me that later, feel free to do so anytime.”
“If we become closer later on.”
“I look forward to it.”
Indeed. She was much better than Janya.
Both in terms of martial prowess and cunning.
There was no reaction even to words with hidden barbs.
‘I’d believe it if she were the one from Jabad.’
He was newly surprised. The Sword Tower was a kin that did politics with the sword. They express their emotions with the sword without hiding them.
‘If today had been our first meeting, I would have made that mistake.’
And yet, a Dujeu was more skillful than Janya.
Was Janya lacking? Or was Arnea outstanding?
Probably both. Simurtr thought as he watched Janya scratch her fingers.
“Simurtr. When will you tell us about the mission? You haven’t even submitted a report to the 3rd Sword Order yet.”
Flinch. At Medeoban’s words, Janya’s body trembled greatly for a moment.
Arnea looked back and forth between Simurtr and Janya with eyes full of interest, and Ael took a deep breath.
Jahar nodded as if curious, then got hit in the side by Ael.
“I will start from the beginning.”
When Simurtr began to speak, Orde had his eyes gently closed.
***
Curiosity appeared in Medeoban’s eyes.
It was because he didn’t know the progress of the mission Simurtr and Ael had been assigned.
Swordsman Moit, who returned later than the two, had written a report, but Deban had not.
That alone was curious, but Juyce, Ael's observer, had died. Deban maintained his silence.
He said it was Simurtr's order. To wait until the day of the banquet.
“Actually, there isn’t much to say about the mission.”
“Hm?”
But Simurtr’s answer was far from satisfactory.
“It was an inspection mission, and I handled it. There was an arson, but the Information Bureau took care of it.”
The arson was for Kanan and Mei.
It was the only thing Simurtr thought he should hide. Other than that, there was nothing to feel guilty about.
“Is that the end of it? Just that?”
Medeoban’s expression crumpled.
He had waited patiently, but the answer was thoroughly unsatisfactory.
“I experienced a strange incident.”
Simurtr said then.
“Hm?”
Medeoban’s face smoothed out again. Curiosity filled his eyes.
“I never imagined I would meet the so-called rare Degrate twice already.”
“Can you handle it?”
As Medeoban asked, Simurtr glanced at Janya out of the corner of his eye. She was now openly trembling.
She caught her trembling thumbnail with her lips, chewing on it with her teeth.
It was proof that she knew about the existence of that young Degrate. Simurtr grinned.
“They are in a cooperative relationship with the main castle. Simurtr. You must know that the main castle is always mindful of the battlefield.”
“You should be mindful when you summon them. No. It would be better to visit them directly.
There is nothing as ridiculous as inviting an assassin, is there?”
At the confidence Simurtr showed, the face that had been smooth hardened instantly.
It was unrelated to Simurtr's origins. The fact that they had touched Mectera. That point enraged Medeoban.
“Do you have proof?”
“I pierced his face with my hand, yet he showed no reaction.”
“Insufficient.”
“It was the same green light I saw at the Selection Ceremony. Though it was weaker.”
“This must be a meaningless exchange. To be so certain means you’ve brought proof.”
This was the youngest grandson he had feared for a moment due to his deep cunning. If he weren't certain, he wouldn't have caused such a stir.
“Did you catch them?”
“There were two, and I missed one.”
Medeoban and Orde nodded.
They knew Simurtr’s achievements. Degrate was certainly a difficult opponent, but there was a possibility.
The matchup must have been unfavorable. Simurtr’s uniquely intense mana would be devastating to a Degrate.
But Arnea’s expression, who did not know the truth, changed completely.
‘He caught a Phantasm user?’
Surprise was painted over the face that had been full of interest.
“The body?”
“For now, I have secured the head. The body is with Deban.”
“Well done.”
“Shall I bring it out now?”
“No. Let’s do it in a little while. We must hear about Ael’s mission as well.”
Medeoban tried to change the subject.
Degrate. There was a point that bothered him, but for now, it was a matter that required the Heads of the Sword to be present.
He might even have to recall all the Sword Orders currently on missions.
“It would be best to finish this now.”
But Simurtr spoke again.
At his unexpected action, a wrinkle formed on Medeoban’s brow.
“Ael must speak as well.”
“Let’s do it all at once. It is related to Ael as well.”
“…It must be about Swordsman Juyce.”
Simurtr nodded.
Time was a factor that could fill the lack of talent. Even that Medeoban, who was so single-minded about the sword, had gained some perceptiveness with age.
“Of course. Tsk. I wondered why you wanted a gathering like this.”
Medeoban inadvertently spoke his true thoughts.
He was reminded of Simurtr from the Selection Ceremony. That wicked cunning. It must be the reason he called Arnea and Janya.
‘She did it.’
Medeoban focused on Janya among them.
The companion from the 3rd Sword Order. The neighboring territory of Jabad. The suspicion Aran reported. He could see the fidgeting Janya. It was the moment Aran’s suspicion solidified into certainty.
‘Proof will be needed.’
The Head of the Senate of Elders and the Sword Master must not act rashly. Every action must be supported by a fitting justification.
The rebuttal to Simurtr's execution request in the past was like that. There had been clear evidence everywhere.
‘He arranged this gathering because he has it.’
This is an era where killing one’s own flesh and blood is forbidden.
It is a rule from after the Doom War.
Most families in the empire are the same. The nobles who suffered great losses in the war's aftermath began to cherish their own bloodlines.
Wasn't that one of the reasons Jabad couldn't regain its former influence? The old Count Jabad had wanted to make Beden the heir of Jabad if he were ever to be eliminated from the succession contest.
The collateral branches of Mectera that existed throughout the continent had also greatly diminished. Many collateral branches were wiped out, and many roots of the main family also died.
Gerehk, who needed to spread his roots, died, and only Orde remained. That was the reason for the political marriage with Janya. The current Sword Master has a duty to rebuild the roots.
‘Or this might be a setup to gain certainty.’
Medeoban observed Janya. Her face had turned deathly pale.
“I obtained quite a lot of by-products from this mission. I don’t know if it’s always like this since it was my first mission.”
Simurtr took out a fist-sized pouch from his bosom. It was the subspace pouch Meram had gifted him sometime ago.
“I brought them all, just in case.”
Simurtr, who had put his hand inside the pouch, scanned the table. Fortunately, the food had not yet been served.
‘Well. Everyone probably wouldn’t care even if it was here.’
But just in case, for Ael and Jahar.
“First, this is that Degrate. He was so lacking for someone with the name Degrate that we’ll have to verify if Degrate is truly involved.”
He rolled a pale head onto the table.
It had been white to begin with, but it had become much worse since all the blood had drained from it.
‘They seem fine.’
Simurtr glanced at the siblings out of the corner of his eye.
There was no major stir, so thankfully, the siblings seemed to be alright.
“Ugh.”
It seemed Janya was the only one unfamiliar with corpses. Upon seeing the head, Janya covered her mouth.
As expected, she was not suited to be the mistress of the main castle. They said she was a wife welcomed due to a political marriage.
“And this is the head of Swordsman Juyce.”
A head of blonde hair rolled across the table.
“I killed him for daring to try and kill the adopted son of the main family.”
Roll, roll. He spoke as he watched the head roll.
“And this is the knight who broke down my door.”
Roll. A new head on the table.
“These are the two knights who came over my room’s window.”
The servant who brought the appetizers at least didn’t retch. However, seeing that the atmosphere wasn’t right for a meal, he turned back.
“This knight used dual swords.”
The knight who valued honor.
The knight who looked down on him.
The knight who was carelessly collecting his comrade's body.
Roll, roll. Heads continuously came out and rolled across the table.
“Ah. This is the last one. I thought there were many, but looking at them like this, there aren’t that many.”
Simurtr took out the last head.
“He said he was the Knight Captain. I wasn't planning on bringing them all, but I brought him because I was offended.”
Roll. The Knight Captain’s head rolled across the table.
It followed the same path the previous 11 heads had taken.
“Offended?”
“Yes.”
“Right. What was it that offended you?”
Medeoban found himself smiling.
That utterly audacious behavior. That candid cunning.
If only they were related by blood… isn't this the disposition most suited for a family head?
“He dared to impersonate the main family’s maternal relatives. He claimed they were the knights of Jabad. So I brought them because I was worried about you, Lady Janya.”
The Knight Captain’s head collided with another head and stopped. Tong. A light, yet fitting sound echoed through the banquet hall.
“You can rest assured, Lady Janya. I have taken care of all the impostors.”
12 heads.
When they arrived in front of Janya and touched her tableware, Simurtr smiled brightly.
“Uweeegh.”
Janya’s vomit covered the 12 heads.