Chapter 573: The Invitation

I arranged for news of Reinfeld to be passed on to both the Avalon and Spada armies through the Adventurers’ Guild on the same day. With royalty in the form of Nell and a powerful noble like Ceris literally backing me up, everything proceeded quite smoothly. Though I’m well-known here as a Rank 5 adventurer, I don’t have as much pull in Avalon. Having those two around was a huge help.

I also sent a letter, via express wyvern delivery, to my soul-brother Will—my ideal go-to for advice on delicate matters involving nations and royals. I’m hoping he’ll come up with a way to arrest Reinfeld without causing a big uproar.

By the time I finished all that, the graceful streets of Avalon were tinted red by the setting sun, and I decided to head straight back to the temple. I apologized to Nell and Ceris for dragging them into such a trivial matter; they both returned warm smiles, telling me it was nothing. I really do owe them so much.

“So, in the end, it’s turned out to be an unexpected find,”
Fiona said after a modest supper at the temple, where I recounted the day’s events with her and Sariel, who had just returned from gathering information.

“All that wandering around Avalon every day actually paid off, didn’t it?”

Her casually barbed comment stabbed me in the chest. She probably meant it exactly as it sounded, with no hidden malice.

“W-well, that’s how it is. As much as I hate to admit it, for now, we’ll just have to see how the Avalon military decides to move.”

“Wouldn’t it be faster if we just had Sariel assassinate her?”

“If you so order, Master,” Sariel said calmly.

“It does seem like it would go surprisingly well, but even the slightest risk is too much. Let’s not. Seriously.”

I’d heard from Nell about the location of that orphanage. If Reinfeld stays there like an idiot, we’ll have her pinned down. And if she runs off to some faraway country, that’s fine too. On the Pandora continent, Reinfeld has no connections or authority; she’s just a lone girl. Sanctuary, that powerful holy barrier of hers, is certainly formidable magic, but all that alone might at best make her an adventurer like me.

However, what worries me most is the existence of the Aria Monastery—an arm of the Crusaders—operating here in Avalon. There’s no telling when she might rejoin them. Or maybe she’ll leverage that strange allure of hers that attracts handsome men and become the monastery’s idol or something.

To me, that woman is nothing but a serious source of anxiety—a threat that should be taken out as soon as possible. So, what’s to blame? Avalon and its prince for being so troublesome? Or me, for greedily wanting to capture her alive?

“So,” I asked, “how did things go on your end, Fiona?”

“I believe I’ve gathered a fair amount of information, yes. Regarding the monastery’s size, its funding sources, its influence…the basics, at least. But it’s run by someone quite adept at intrigue, I imagine. Right now, there’s not even the slightest sign of suspicious activity.”

Aria Monastery devotes each day to preaching a softened version of Cross Faith doctrine, cleverly glossing over its push to purge demihumans. Not only do they spread the word of their god, but they also engage in widespread charity, apparently winning converts in the poor districts especially.

“From the sound of it, it’s just the same old tactic for religious groups to gather support,” I noted.

Perform charitable works—basically give direct help—so people will believe in your faith. Likely everyone does that. On cold winter nights, if a starving mother and child run out of options, they turn to a church or a temple. Once someone’s life is saved, they’ll believe in any god or buddha.

“But the real issue,” Fiona said, “is how large-scale these activities have become.”

You need money to help people. If you have money, you can get as many goods and as much labor as you want.

“Word is they’re receiving large donations from nobles and merchants alike, so they’re pretty flush with cash,” I said.

“Yes, exactly. They’re handing it out so freely it almost feels like scattering seeds everywhere.”

The prime example is the extravagant cathedral they’re constructing right along Avalon’s main thoroughfare. The more impressive it looks, the more people it’ll draw. Even a hollow facade can become real authority if enough people believe in it and enough time passes.

“How on earth did they manage that?” I wondered.

“I don’t know. They appeared in Avalon at the beginning of this year as if from nowhere. There’s no indication they spent a long time laying the groundwork in various circles.”

“Could it be that they brought in some unbelievably influential figure who could make it happen?”

“I’ve heard Avalon’s domestic situation has long been a fierce rivalry among the Twelve Great Nobles. I doubt there’s one single person who could hold so much sway over all of them. That would be far too convenient.”

She was right. If someone like that existed, then you’d say, “You go be the king, then.” Secret power brokers are a common trope in fiction, but in reality, the shadows are always overshadowed by those in the light—that’s why they have to skulk in the dark in the first place.

“I’ve heard even the king of Avalon can’t push the Twelve Nobles around,” I said.

Avalon’s structure supposedly maintains a precise balance between royal authority and the Twelve Nobles, preserving peace for a long time. They say if all the nobles joined forces, they could overturn the monarchy, but they’ll never unite that way because they’re rivals.

“In any case,” Fiona continued, “it’s a fact that many of the upper classes are funding the monastery. Among them, the largest benefactors are, on the merchant side, Florence & Co. and Holy Sword Heavy Industries, and among nobles, the Azrael family and—”

She rattled off names I’d at least heard somewhere, even if I wasn’t too knowledgeable about Avalon.

Florence & Co. is a major commercial house handling the distribution of vital goods—grains, for instance. They run a wide range of businesses; I’ve seen their name on countless restaurants and shops around the city.

Holy Sword Heavy Industries is said to be the second-largest weapons dealer in Avalon. The top spot is held by Grand Dwarf Industry—a company run largely by dwarves, as the name implies. Even second place is apparently bigger than Mordred Weapons Company. Well, Mordred is centered in Spada, whereas Holy Sword does business across the Lemuria Sea from Selene’s port, so there’s bound to be a difference in scale.

As for nobility, I don’t usually hear much about them, but Azrael rang a bell. I think the captain of Nell’s Royal Guard who picked a fight with me was named Helen Azrael.

“…And finally, the Arclight family,” Fiona said. “Rumor has it they’re the ones who made the first donation to the monastery.”

Right, I’d heard that somewhere. Wait, that name also reminds me of…

“Arclight… hold on. Then that means Ceris is—”

“He’s highly suspicious,” Fiona said. “If need be, you should sever ties now. Or perhaps make use of your friendship and investigate him.”

No way—so Ceris’s family is in such a dangerous spot?

“It might also be that he’s the one investigating you, Kurono.”

I didn’t want to think so. My meeting with Ceris was pure coincidence, or so it seemed. Sure, with his skill and determination, it’s natural enough he and Nell would compete in that Knight Selection. But no one could have predicted Chaosic Rim’s sudden intrusion into the arena, nor that I’d chase him inside.

Still, if you told me Ceris exploited that coincidence to get close to me, I couldn’t outright deny it.

“Dammit… what do we do?”

It wasn’t a question with a simple answer.

My wounds still haven’t fully healed. I’ll be in Avalon a while longer, so in that time… I’d begun diving deeper into thought when:

“Master, we have a visitor.”

Sariel’s voice cut sharply through the silence.

“At this hour?”

“Visiting hours should be over.”

Fiona and Sariel were allowed in my room with special permission, but anyone else would normally be turned away once evening arrived.

It wouldn’t be a doctor, either. That sort of thing doesn’t happen at this time of night—if it did, we’d ring a nurse bell, or in this world, call a healing priest.

And the most decisive factor: Sariel had declared it “a visitor.” Meaning it was someone whose presence she didn’t recognize. Who could it be?

A sudden tension fell over the room.

“They’re here.”

Footsteps resounded in the corridor until they stopped right outside my door. Almost immediately, there was a knock.

“Visiting hours are over,” Sariel said curtly through the door. “Please come back tomorrow.”

Let’s see how they respond—

“I have come on behalf of Lady Lily.”

It was a young man’s voice. It sounded vaguely familiar, but I didn’t have the time to dwell on it.

He’d said “on behalf of Lily.” That’s definitely what he said.

“Let him in.”

I had no reason to refuse. Part of me wanted to fling the door open and corner this supposed envoy for answers, but I held myself in check. No point rushing. He’d come here, so best to stay calm and hear him out.

“Pardon my intrusion.”

At the sight of the man who entered, I immediately understood. This guy was definitely Lily’s emissary.

“One of Lily’s Living Dead, I see. At your waist is the Nameless Nine longsword. That means you’re Ein, Unit One.”

“I’m honored you remember me, My Lord,” he said.

He wore a sharp yet courteous smile and spoke with smooth, clear feeling—despite being a homunculus.

This was the result of Lily’s training in Avalon. The nine youthful, albino-colored men who shared the same face, known as Living Dead—special necromantic servants Lily conjured—were actually homunculi. They’d served faithfully in the Galahad War and had been entrusted with the Nine Nameless Cursed Weapons that I’d obtained at the Curse Carnival. That arrangement continued even after I left; I never got them back, so of course they would still have them now.

Lily could apparently tell them apart, but to me, they all had the same face, the same attire. I couldn’t differentiate them at all, so I distinguished them based on which of the Nameless Nine they each wielded. This one was Ein, Unit One, bearing the longsword.

When they were my subordinates in the past, the Living Dead wore creepy black surcoats and iron masks with a smiley-face design. Now, he looked more like a well-dressed gentleman you might see on the street, wearing something resembling my current casual clothes.

“It appears that the Nameless blade you were entrusted with by your Lady has now evolved into what you call the ‘Diamond Knight Sword.’ Lady Lily instructed me that if you wish to reclaim it, I must return it without delay. However—”

“No. If you’ve evolved it yourself, then keep using it.”

Apparently, Ein was speaking as though he were perfectly human. The Living Dead used to be archetypical undead minions, silent and emotionless, only capable of simple replies.

In truth, it might be Ein himself who has evolved, not just the cursed sword.

“Anyway,” I said, “let’s get to the point.”

“Yes, My Lord.”

With a polite bow, Ein produced a rolled-up scroll from inside his coat.

“I bear a message from Lady Lily. Please, take a look.”

He broke the seal on the spot, unrolling the scroll. Runes and a magic circle drawn on the parchment began glowing white. The next instant, a large image—like a TV screen—was projected in midair.

The screen showed a dimly lit room, its details unclear. I strained my eyes, expecting Lily to appear—and in that moment, a brilliantly red light flared.

“–!”

The glare was so intense that I winced and turned away. But it seemed to subside quickly, so I opened my eyes again.

And Lily was there.

“—Hey, is this really working? You sure? This is an important message for Kurono, so make sure—huh? It’s already recording? H-hey, say that sooner!”

She fussed and fumed, flustered and trying to pull herself together, exactly like the Lily I knew. Though less time has passed since we parted ways than during my pioneer-village days, just seeing her face somehow filled me with nostalgia—and more than that, a sense of deep relief.

But I realized right away: the Lily I knew and the Lily shown on that screen were clearly different in some respects.

“It’s been a while, Kurono. Really, I’d like to see you right away, but I’m not ready yet, so for now I’m just sending this message. I imagine sweet, considerate Kurono’s been worrying about a girl like me who left on her own. But don’t worry. I’m fine. Look, see for yourself, Kurono—”

With a bewitchingly lovely smile, she turned those emerald eyes toward me. Those eyes possessed a literal power to captivate. But oddly, she had it in only one eye.

Her right eye was its original jade color; her left was black, exactly like the eye I see in the mirror each morning.

“—I’ve gotten stronger.”

Then came another flash of red light.

It was more like the ominous radiance of my Flame Overdrive than anything a fairy ought to emit. Hardly a beautiful, gentle shimmer.

Yet it clearly came from Lily’s own fairy wings. Or maybe they weren’t fairy wings anymore.

From her back, Lily spread something like a black swallowtail butterfly’s wings, glowing in a vivid, bloody scarlet. A color and shape completely different from before.

“Kurono, you realize it right away, don’t you? This black left eye, these crimson butterfly wings—”

Of course I noticed right away. They gave such a jarring sense of dissonance. A different color eye, different wings—changes so drastic that even from a distance, I could feel a strange aura crackling from the Lily on-screen.

“…Is that really Lily?”

“Ufufu, I’ve changed,” she said, as if answering my involuntary murmur.

“I love you. I’ve always loved you—probably since the day we met. But I realized something. I don’t love you enough. If I can’t fully call it ‘love,’ then it isn’t enough.”

Fiona once told me Lily was in love with me—not just affection or friendship, but genuine romantic feelings.

I knew that. So why does what Lily says now feel so incomprehensible?

“Which is why I lost. Don’t you think so, Fiona?”

“…Lily,” Fiona murmured.

Her expression twisted slightly. Anger, or caution? No—fear.

She placed her hand over my left hand. Our fingers intertwined, and I could feel a faint trembling in her grip.

“But I won’t give up,” Lily continued. “No, that’s not right. This is only the beginning. Until now, I was a fool who didn’t know true love. I’ve finally awakened—to real love—”

She looked almost in ecstasy as she spoke of love. Like a maiden enraptured by her own passion; like a dragon aflame with wrath. Beautiful, delicate, and somehow terrifying in a bottomless way.

“So I’ve decided. I’m going to be with Kurono forever. I’ll never leave your side again. For all eternity, just the two of us—our own paradise.”

“Paradise?”

What’s that supposed to mean? The tone of her voice sounded as though she might be implying some sort of double-suicide arrangement… Lily’s behavior was clearly off. Maybe it wasn’t so far-fetched.

“Kurono,” Fiona whispered urgently, “you must not listen to her. Lily seems to have chosen the worst possible path.”

“What do you mean?”

Almost immediately, Lily answered me again, as if hearing my question.

“I’m going to marry you, Kurono.”

Again, she’d preempted what I was about to say, speaking through the screen.

“On the sixth of Early Fire Month, I’ll come for you. Hehe, you don’t have to prepare or worry about a thing—just wait for me, Kurono.”

She claims she’ll appear on that day. But that date…

“It’s been a year,” Lily said. “The sixth of Early Fire Month is the day we lost at Alsace. It was probably the hardest day of your life, Kurono… And that’s exactly why I chose it. I want to replace that painful, tragic memory with a once-in-a-lifetime, supremely joyous one—so you’ll forget all about it.”

Her smile was downright devilish. Maybe because she wanted to erase my memories of that awful battle?

“Oh, right, Fiona—I’ll send you an invitation. Ein has it, so please take it. You’re my…dearest friend, so I want to give you one last chance to say goodbye to Kurono. It’s sad, but it would mean so much if you’d bless our union.”

With that, Lily curtseyed, holding out a corner of her familiar Ancient Velour dress, so elegantly black.

“Well then, Kurono—look forward to the day we meet again, okay?”

And the message ended.

Whatever magical effect had created that projection faded, and the scroll in Ein’s hand lost its glow and power.

Lily’s vague, confusing words left me stunned. I just stared, speechless.

“That is the entirety of Lady Lily’s message,” Ein said, “and this is her formal invitation for Lady Fiona.”

He extended a white envelope sealed with red wax. Fiona gazed at it for a moment before steeling herself and accepting it.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

“Wait—where is Lily—”

“I’m sorry. Lady Lily holds supreme command over me as my creator. She strictly forbade me from divulging any additional information, so I can’t answer any questions.”

“So you won’t talk. I see. Then you can go.”

“I apologize again, My Lord.”

“Don’t worry about it. But convey one message for me.”

“Name it.”

“Tell Lily I was happy to see she’s well.”

“Yes—though I suspect your feelings are already known to her.”

“I hope so.”

With that, I had no reason to stop him further, and I let Ein go. He was about to step through the door when Fiona spoke up:

“Sariel, see him out.”

“Yes, Lady Fiona.”

“Don’t return until midday tomorrow. I have matters to discuss with Kurono in private.”

“Understood.”

Sure enough, if we’re going to talk about Lily, it’s best if Fiona and I do so alone.

Ever since that day in Spada—the day I confessed my sins, the day Lily ran off in tears—we’ve been putting off these issues. Now, at last, we’re about to face them head-on.

“…Kurono,” Fiona said once we were alone in the silent hospital room, “I have a favor to ask.”

“All right, what—mmph!?”

Instead of words, I was met with a kiss. A passionate one, as if letting out all the frustration she’d been bottling up.

Dammit, maybe I’m starved for it too; my head’s going fuzzy just from a kiss.

Her lips devoured mine for a long moment, and at last she pulled away.

“Please… make love to me,” she breathed.