I Returned with the Cheat Holy Sword

Let’s Think About the Imperial Family.
[Trash.]

“They were trash.”
The response came instantly, and it was accurate. These were not good people.
Even when the entire continent was burning, all they cared about was lining their own pockets.

If they could fill their bellies, they didn’t care how many others died. They were vultures in human skin.
They were so irredeemable that even Gray—whose own personality was a wreck—couldn’t stand them.
There were rare exceptions like Princess Illia, who was surprisingly decent. But the very fact that someone like her couldn’t even publicly acknowledge her lineage showed exactly what kind of institution the imperial family had become.

What pissed them off the most was—
“If they’d just been useless morons, we could’ve wiped them all out without hesitation.”
[But they weren’t, which made it worse.]

Every one of them had at least one talent they could weaponize. That was what made them so infuriating.
The First Prince and the Second Princess were both so competent that they were currently locked in a rivalry for the title of Supreme Commander of the Imperial Army—the apex of military power in a nation obsessed with martial prowess.
And since the throne was closely tied to military prestige in the empire, it was only natural for them to compete so viciously.

Moreover—
Though the real struggle was between those two, even the lower-ranked members of the imperial family—those far from the line of succession—still possessed exceptional talent in their own fields.
Even Illia, who wasn’t even officially recognized as a royal by blood, had shown abilities far beyond her age.

“Her Highness is apparently keeping up with regular classes now. The professors are full of praise.”
[...Wasn’t she illiterate when she arrived? I remember hearing she could barely read.]
Carlyle and the Holy Sword both chuckled as they recalled Illia.

The little princess, constantly scurrying around like a frantic puppy, had basically become the party mascot at this point.
She had a gentle, small-animal sort of energy.
Even Vespa, even prickly Panhyma—and even Gray, of all people—had cut down noticeably on their usual stream of abuse when it came to the girl.
“...”

Granted, it was abnormal to subject a child under ten to verbal or physical assault in the first place, but considering it was Gray, it still counted as progress.
If it’s Hero Gray, of course she would’ve done that…
[I’m right here, you know. I can hear everything.]

“Oops.”
Still, the fact that Illia continued to call Gray her friend after being treated like that showed she had nerves of steel.
…Though when she heard about the royals visiting Yoram, she had gone pale as a ghost.

Carlyle could more or less guess why.
“As the Young Lady said, they’re probably not coming with good intentions.”
Yoram was, after all, an educational institution.

To the high and mighty, it wasn’t exactly a place worth visiting on a whim.
[The succession battle is probably reaching its peak right now. That garbage prince and that worm of a princess are likely running all over trying to scrape together every bit of leverage they can.]
The Emperor’s serious illness and impending death was a widely known secret.

The imperial family was keeping it under wraps, but beneath the surface, everyone knew that the battle for succession had already begun in earnest.
And in that power struggle, Yoram held significant symbolic value.
Sior Whiteburn. Gray Chasefield.

The only location where both the current and former Heroes resided. That was the first point.
Simply existing there might not mean much—but if something happened—
[If an incident breaks out and they perform well, it’ll be a perfect opportunity to score political points.]

“Like, ‘Even with two Heroes present, I was the one who saved the day,’ that kind of thing?”
[Exactly.]
The second point?

Something would happen.
[It should be right around this time, in fact. The ‘Magical Beast Uprising.’]
The Holy Sword spoke ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) with a tired sigh.

An event that took place during the final exams of the semester.
Supposedly, it would turn the entire academy into a sea of fire.
“…I don’t get it.”

[What part?]
“These royals coming to show off must already know that something’s going to happen. That’s why they’re coming, right?”
[Correct.]

“But people like the Headmaster don’t seem to know. Why are they the only ones who have that information?”
Based on the Holy Sword’s description, it was a disaster big enough to kill hundreds.
Shouldn’t they be telling others so they can prepare?

That was the logical thing to do.
But the answer he got was anything but logical.
[It benefits them more if no one else knows.]

“…Excuse me?”
[If they’re the only ones with the information, they get to shine the most. So even if someone like Headmaster Sior asks for details, they’ll pretend to listen and toss it aside.]
“….”

Ah.
So people might die, but that didn’t matter—as long as they got to look good.
They were just hoarding the information for themselves?

“Well, whether it’s the Hell Invasion or this... Why are these fuckers always the same fucking kind of fuckers?”
[The ‘Demi-God Emperor’ is famously said to have failed only once in his entire life: raising his children.]
A fitting verdict.

Carlyle furrowed his brow and scratched his cheek.
Well, now he understood the situation.
But there was still one lingering question.

“So, the Young Lady wants to bring me along to serve the royals when they arrive.”
[Mm.]
“But then... why did she seem so pissed off?”

[... ]
Looking at it objectively, there was nothing unusual about the arrangement. For Gray, this was just another duty. Part of being the Hero.
But the moment Vespa said she wanted to come too, Gray had looked deeply annoyed.

She didn’t lash out at Vespa—thanks to precedent—but she was clearly thrown off by the idea that it wouldn’t just be the two of them.
...Is that really something to get that upset about?
Shouldn’t it be a good thing if Vespa wanted to be more proactive? Even if she didn’t like fighting, her abilities were already well proven.

[There’s an old superstition. A tradition, even.]
“Huh?”
[When serving the royal family, attendants are usually dispatched in pairs. There are two standard pairings: either two people of the same gender, or a mixed-gender pair.]

“Why?”
[To prevent any scandals between the royals and their attendants.]
“...”

[And under that logic, mixed-gender pairs are usually either married or visibly very close. People who can credibly act like they are.]
“......”
[At least in public, that’s the expectation.]

“……………”
Hmm.
Ah.

So that’s what this was about.
Gray didn’t want to be in a position where people might misinterpret the pairing.
That explained her foul mood.

[Idiot.]
“...”
She could say whatever she wanted.

“Well, I guess I’m just the easiest to deal with. I mean, who else can handle the Hero but me?”
[You really never considered she might have other motives...?]
Other motives.

Other motives?
“You’re saying the Hero wants to date or marry me or something?”
...That beast in human skin?

Someone who hasn’t even grasped half of human emotions?
[I wouldn’t go that far, but...]
“Honestly, romance is kind of tough for me.”

[... ]
The Holy Sword’s mouth clamped shut.
It was the silence of someone who had just taken a critical hit.

It took a long pause before she finally spoke again.
[...Is it because she’s the Hero? Or because she’s Gray Chasefield?]
“It’s not that. It’d be hard no matter who it was.”

Another pause—this time not from shock, but from something more conflicted.
[...Why? You’ve got more than enough attractive women around you.]
He didn’t deny that. They were all wonderful people.

But looking at them romantically?
“…Honestly, I just see them all as daughters.”
How many times had he seen them?

How many lifetimes had he spent watching over them?
How many times had he fought to protect them?
Heroes and their companions may have been the world’s shield—but paradoxically, he had been the one shielding them through it all.

He had seen everything. The good and the grotesque.
Even if he could still feel something like romantic interest... he wasn’t sure he even remembered what that meant anymore.
To him, they were simply people he had to protect.

More than that—
“I just want them to be happy. That’s all.”
That was the only emotion he had left.

Familial love.
People he considered his children—born of the heart, not the flesh—who he hoped would live their lives on their own terms and find happiness.
Romance?

With them?
He felt like their dad, for crying out loud.
[............................]

The silence that followed from the Holy Sword was not just heavy—it was full of regret.
“Hero? What’s wrong?”
[...I just realized we’ve got a long way to go.]

“You’re right. There’s still so much to do if we’re going to save the world this time—”
[I wasn’t talking about you. I meant me. And the other girls.]
“…?”

Carlyle blinked as if to ask what are you even talking about?
And the Holy Sword replied, in the most defeated tone possible:
[Exactly that.]

“...”
[Even aside from the fact that you’re not interested in romance, you’re also catastrophically oblivious.]
The road ahead was long.

Very long indeed.
***
And the next day—

That long, painful road opened up for Carlyle in the most abrupt way possible.
“...Hey.”
Standing before him was Cardinal Felix, gazing at him with moist, glistening eyes.

As always, he moved with a level of casualness utterly unfit for someone of his station.
Just before the royals arrived, he’d suddenly shown up and asked to speak with Carlyle about something important.
“There’s something I want to say. It’s really important. It’s about you and me. Our relationship.”

“...”
...Though the topic seemed to be wildly off-course.
“Would you like to come to my room and have a cup of coffee?”

With a bright red face, he asked that with all the subtlety of a brick.
It was definitely not just about the coffee.
[You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.]

‘...Yeah, this is a bit sudden—’
[No, I just realized a crucial blind spot.]
‘What?’

[This man doesn’t see you as a daughter. This is his first time meeting you in this regression.]
‘...’
[Which means... maybe you’re the one who might fall for him, since you’re not used to this version of him—]

‘Do I look like I would?!’
What the hell was she talking about now?!