The physical traces of Esther's fight did not vanish just because she had concealed her mana the moment she learned of Astrail's existence.
And Enkrid and Rem had each had a round of their own too, so those traces remained just as plainly.
"This is driving me insane."
"...Sir?"
At the words that slipped unintentionally, his lieutenant looked back. Andrew furrowed his brow, turned toward him, and said it again.
"I said it's driving me insane."
The lieutenant went mute and shut his mouth. He decided it was not the time to say anything to his superior, seeing how thoroughly enraged he seemed.
He was an excellent lieutenant. A man who lived with and cared for his elderly mother alone, who hoped to take a decent wife and place a grandson or granddaughter in his mother's arms before she died, and who wanted today to pass without trouble too.
The perceptive lieutenant stayed quiet, and Andrew concluded that this was not a problem his own head was going to think its way through.
'But can I really go to Duke Marcus right now?'
That would not do either.
'There are already rumors everywhere that Duke Marcus has been bewitched by a demon.'
How was he supposed to go meet him in the middle of that?
Duke Marcus had used those rumors to lure out several servants of demons. It was a method where no one could tell who the demon was. The servants were only the ones being fooled, not the ones doing the fooling. At least in this matter. And right now, they were being hunted down one-sidedly.
'Are they all servants?'
Some of the dead had looked like ordinary people. The fact that it really did look like a crazed killer rampaging because he hated nobles and the ruling class that much only made Andrew's feelings more tangled.
While Andrew agonized inwardly, someone came up beside him and nudged his elbow.
"...When did you get here?"
Andrew turned his head and asked. Unlike before, the irritation was gone from his voice, and some life returned to it.
No matter how out of it he was, how many people could approach him without his noticing?
"Just now."
At that reply, color returned to Andrew's face. Blood truly seemed to flow through his whole body again, and the stiffness caused by irritation, frustration, and tension loosened.
"Please help me out here."
"I figured I'd have to, so I came straight to the public order headquarters."
It was the return of a royal knight who had finished an assignment outside. The knight with orange hair now grown long enough to touch her shoulders and tied back behind her head—her name was Aisia.
***
"Triple Fang is here?"
Triple Fang meant, put plainly, Three Awls. It was the nickname Aisia had picked up lately through her active work.
Even the man's sharply cut jawline, enough to make anyone look twice, looked beautiful as he asked back.
Long brown hair hanging down, dangling earrings, a necklace with a round medallion, and a bracelet half a handspan long on his wrist, together with a thin white shirt that exposed the muscles of his chest, gave him a strange air.
He looked decadent and holy at once, and though he was a man, he also looked like a woman. Neat and disordered at the same time, perhaps. In any case, he gave off a distinctly strange feeling.
He was one of Astrail's masters. And an Astrail master was one of the invisible moving hands that ruled this world.
And one of those masters had personally entered Naurill now.
He had set aside his research and his work to come here. What was the most important thing to an Astrail master?
Research, research, research.
Why had he come all the way here? Naturally, for research. More precisely, to obtain materials for research.
At first he had thought a few disciples would be enough to deal with it, but this was the moment he realized that assumption had gone badly wrong.
'Was this Triple Fang's doing?'
At that level of skill, it would be possible to deal with one disciple trained as a warlock.
But all three had died.
'An entire knight order entered the royal castle? Was it really their doing?'
Maybe so. But would that be a reason for him to retreat?
No matter how much their fame had spread across the continent and how highly people praised them, that was all just the talk of ordinary people.
He was one of the masters of a secret society that met with demons face-to-face and that even the Empire could not treat carelessly.
Had there ever been anything he wanted that had not happened?
Even the demons of the Demon lands took a step back when they heard the name Astrail's master. Unless it was some brute like Balrog, there was no problem.
"Master Eudokia, what shall we do?"
He had brought eight disciples for this matter. And what the demons had demanded as the price of the deal was that every Imperial envoy inside the capital die.
Things would go as they wished.
After he dealt with what was happening here first.
'If there are meddlers.'
He would remove them and move on. The moment he met them, that would be the end of it. He was certain of that. The days he had lived until now were proof of the conviction he possessed.
***
What should you do when the situation gets tangled and knotted up?
"You use that to your advantage."
"Three times as many public order troops as yesterday."
That was what Rem said after going out before sunset to get a feel for the atmosphere. He did not sound worried in the slightest. Even if their numbers increased fivefold from here, he was overflowing with confidence that he could escape without being noticed by anyone.
"They've probably mobilized the Gardner family's private soldiers, the Duke of Octo's private soldiers, and even the royal castle garrison. All within expectations."
Kraiss answered.
Enkrid nodded too. He felt a little sorry for Andrew, but he was glad Andrew had stepped up like that.
Someone had to be tricked and made into the clown in a situation like this.
"This is information Duke Marcus gathered while walking a knife's edge among them by acting as though he were one of the servants. But he couldn't know everything. It looks like the largest branch has shown itself."
The demons did not act directly. Kraiss had formed that hypothesis.
'Why?'
Did that matter? It did. If you chased only results without knowing the enemy's intent, the whole thing would go wrong. You had to know what the other side wanted in order to know why they were acting.
'The demons conserve their strength.'
You could see that from the very process of making servants.
'If the kingdom annoys them, why don't they act directly?'
Why try to make use of conflict between the Empire and the kingdom?
"They keep each other in check."
Enkrid spoke up abruptly. It was the conclusion that came at the end of a brief exchange about why the demons were doing this. At those words, Kraiss nodded.
That mutual restraint would become a factor they could use.
"Well, we still need to keep doing our job."
Kraiss said. The number of servants had dropped sharply. After that, priests would visit every noble house and merchant family in the city under the pretext of making pastoral rounds, and they would search out traces of hidden demons.
If they cleared out all the major ones, the smaller fry would be handled by the battle priests Legion had dispatched. Then this matter would be over.
Using the excuse that the three of them alone were using the royal palace training grounds, Enkrid, Rem, and Esther did not meet any outsiders.
The commander of the Mad Order of Knights was visiting, after all.
Invitations and gifts had come in from every direction. Crang had blocked all of it in advance.
"This is a time to receive the Imperial envoys. The commander of the knight order has come in order to meet with them, and any interference is forbidden."
In the meantime, they had already stayed up through two nights, and there had been no interference so far.
As Esther put it,
"An Astrail master is not someone you can take lightly. You have to think of one as the same class as a demon."
She had even given that warning. The three devoted themselves to resting in preparation for nightfall.
'Should I get some sleep?'
Enkrid was the sort of man who always found his own work no matter how things unfolded. Using Crang's appropriate excuses and explanations as a shield, he lay down and slept.
He had not stopped training and tempering himself, but he placed more emphasis on rest than usual. It was not because he felt fatigued, but purely because of instinct. The way Esther had spoken made it sound all but certain that he would end up fighting this Astrail master.
And so he took over the bed in broad daylight and closed his eyes with the sunlight coming through the window as his lullaby.
Falling asleep easily anytime was one of Enkrid's strengths. And so, the moment his consciousness cut away from reality—
Slosh—
Together with the movement of water, he saw the bottom of a ferryboat, a violet lamp, and the Ferryman holding an oar.
"Is this a wall?"
Before the Ferryman could say anything, Enkrid asked a question.
"Funny thing to say."
The Ferryman answered in a tone so listless it dragged just hearing it. Once again, it was a question and answer without a subject and with unclear meaning.
"I asked just in case."
As always, Enkrid's manner was calm. Whether this was a wall or an obstacle, he only had to pass through today as he always did.
That was how he had passed through countless todays to arrive at the present.
The Ferryman lowered the hood. At first the Ferryman had looked gray-skinned, but looking more closely, the skin only seemed gray because it was so pale.
So it was not the withered wasteland-like skin Enkrid usually saw either.
"I only wish for things to pass quietly."
The way the Ferryman spoke was like melted candle wax. Thick, slow, and gloomy. There was enough skill in that voice alone to shake a person's heart.
Of course, Enkrid remained flat. Even when facing Crang or the king of Evergart, he had carried through his own will without his principles wavering.
That held true even when the Ferryman was the one before him.
"How about basking in sunlight, taking naps, meeting no one, and just living shut away somewhere in the woods or the mountains?"
The Ferryman suggested. Enkrid found it fresh.
It was not simply telling him to remain in today. In a way, it was a rather specific proposal.
"Do you need an answer?"
"No, I don't."
It was an answer the Ferryman already knew without hearing it.
The Ferryman at present looked like someone who had never smiled even once in an entire lifetime. The broad-shouldered, upright man leaned against the edge of the boat without so much as a sigh.
With one knee raised and an arm draped over it, he looked off into the far emptiness and said,
"The key to spell cutting is killing the caster, but if that can't be done, then you have to know how to cut the spell itself."
Spell cutting was a technique Enkrid had grasped by cutting through Walking Fire and then refined through Esther. And now the Ferryman was bringing it up out of nowhere.
"At your current level, it won't be enough."
"What are you trying to say?"
Enkrid's tone rose noticeably. It did because expectation had entered it.
"I only wish today to be peaceful too, and for that... is something like this necessary? Who knows. I truly don't know."
Lament, sorrow, regret, self-reproach. Several emotions swirled together and tangled. Enkrid knew that if he stepped just one pace further, he would be able to glimpse the Ferryman's past.
And because he knew that, he reached toward that side without hesitation, but the Ferryman raised a palm. A gesture to stop. Enkrid halted every attempt.
"I won't let you look into me right now. Just remember one thing. See everything as swordsmanship. You've already tried it once, so with just this much advice, you'll know what I mean."
The Ferryman blocked him, but Enkrid still caught a glimpse of his past.
It was a man clutching a dead woman and screaming, clutching a dead old man and screaming, clutching a dead child and screaming.
And before him stood figures in robes of every color, each holding a staff.
"I told you not to look, but this much was probably bound to show. Next time. There'll be a chance to see it next time."
That was the last of it. When Enkrid opened his eyes again, it was the ceiling of reality. Just from dozing off for a moment, his body felt light enough to fly.
'Feels like I could cut anything.'
Ever since becoming a knight, on days when his instincts were especially sharp, a sense of omnipotence came easily.
'See everything as swordsmanship.'
The Ferryman's words rose in his mind on their own. By now, he could tell whether what the Ferryman said was a lie, interference, or sincerity.
Why? He did not bother asking. Even if this was some carefully constructed lie and he had been fooled, there would still be something to learn from it.
Once he decided, he moved forward. That way of living had not changed. It was the third night. Enkrid knew there were not many servants left.
"Damn it!"
That was what the target spat out through clenched teeth, his eyes rolling.
The three did not need to split up, so they moved together. That was how they found a secretary belonging to the Council of Ten. There was no need to ask how even someone seated in a key post like this had been ensnared by demons.
Demons always found the weak points possessed by intelligent beings and dug at them until they fell.
Enkrid and the Mad Order of Knights were the strange ones. This side was normal.
As long as the lords of the Demon lands remained alive, intelligent races would always suffer such temptations, and those who gave in would become monsters that devoured the hearts of their own families.
That was true of this servant. He had eaten his own father's heart and awakened to spells.
So the moment he came face to face with Enkrid, Rem, and Esther, he rubbed his boot against the floor and vanished.
A teleportation spell could not move someone a great distance. That was common magical knowledge. At best, the bastard had only fled to the horse he had hidden outside the house.
"West."
Rem said and struck the upper wall above the window with his axe. The window was too small for his body to get through.
Crack!
With a single swing of the axe, a fracture split the upper part of the wall. Rem broke through the wooden lattice and part of the wall and went outside, and Enkrid and Esther followed behind him.
"Hyah!"
The servant, determined to flee, galloped off on horseback. His house was on the outskirts, so the city wall was close.
He ran not for the gate but for the wall itself, and above it a monster with pitch-black wings flew down and snatched him right off the horse. The three saw it too and sprinted for the wall. Esther muttered something, and wind gathered upward from the ground and became a foothold.
"Nice."
Rem muttered and leaped up, caught a protruding part of the wall, and vaulted over it as though flying.
Enkrid and Esther showed similar skill and moved with him.
"Everyone halt!"
The shout burst out the instant they crossed over. It was a familiar voice.
'Andrew?'
That was when Enkrid thought of the owner of the voice. He had just come over the wall and was about to touch down on the ground. From beside him, a blade flew in. It was not one of Andrew's attacks. It did not match the direction the voice had come from. Then who was this?
It came together with the sensation of spiderwebs wrapping around his whole body.
'Heavy sword.'
No, swordsmanship made in that style but remade in the attacker's own way. A technique that used pressure refined with Will to constrict the whole body.
Enkrid thrust out Today and knocked aside the incoming blade.
Even with spiderwebs binding his body, knocking away something at this level was no task at all. Ting. He received and redirected the sword that came in fast yet soft, crossing those two properties together, but the opponent did not give up.
Even in the middle of the night, he caught a glimpse of a familiar color, and the blade came flying in again.
It was a swift thrust.