The Sword Master’s Son-in-Law

– Outing (2)

I was sitting on a bench, contemplating the events to come, when…

“Oh…? Look over there!”

Asia suddenly stood up.

She pointed in a certain direction, looking utterly astonished.

In the direction she pointed, a group was moving in a long procession.

And the manor’s folk around them were cheering.

‘A parade?’

What was this?

Had royalty arrived?

A procession, like a parade you’d see at an amusement park.

Judging by the reaction to the procession, it was as if a celebrity was visiting.

Royalty was the first thing that came to mind.

‘Ah, but that can’t be it.’

Thinking of royalty, the First Prince fleetingly crossed my mind.

But that was impossible.

The First Prince had a less than stellar reputation.

There’s no way the citizens would be cheering him on like this.

Besides, it felt odd for the common folk to be so exuberant even for a royal visit.

“They say Lady Saint of the Rhea Order is on a pilgrimage! Guess that’s her!”

A pilgrimage?

A Saint?

Come to think of it, things like that existed in this other world.

A world with heroes and Demon Lords would naturally have Saints as well.

I watched the disappearing procession from afar.

At the heart of the procession.

A woman caught my eye.

Blonde hair.

Her figure… it was something else.

Curved where it needed to be… ample where it should be…

A passerby, catching a glimpse, would instinctively swallow hard and look back; that’s how striking she was.

But.

‘…Is she really a Saint?’

The Saints I knew emphasized piety and purity.

But the Saint in the procession seemed the furthest thing from that.

It was as if she was emphasizing a sensuality that was the very opposite of purity.

More than a Saint…

She seemed closer to a vixen.

Besides her figure, there was another element that made her appear like a vixen.

That’s because the Saint was…

“I didn’t know the Saint was a beastkin.”

A fox beastkin, perhaps?

A Nine-tailed Fox, definitely.

She had three tails and her ears were atop her head, not on the sides.

Well, to be precise, since she had three tails, she should be called a Three-tailed Fox.

In any case, the Nine-tailed Foxes I knew were usually depicted as vixen-like.

In legends, or in games.

Perhaps that was why.

The Saint felt like a vixen.

At my words, Asia gave me a strange look, as if I had uttered something odd.

“Pardon?”

Perhaps I misspoke.

“What troubles you?”

“The Saintess is a beastkin?”

“Isn’t she a beastkin?”

“Oh, come on now. She’s clearly human.”

“…?”

At Asia’s words, I looked at the Saintess again.

But the Saintess had already departed and was out of sight.

There was no point in chasing after her to confirm.

‘Ah…come to think of it, the Detiosque Kingdom wasn’t exactly fond of beastkin.’

I’d seen such attitudes even at the Waltz margrave’s estate.

The Detiosque Kingdom does not favor beastkin.

Thinking about it that way, the Saintess of the Rhea Order must be human.

Otherwise, there would have been those cursing at the Saintess’s pilgrimage.

Since no one’s cursing, the Saintess is human.

I must be too exhausted and saw things wrong.

The consequences of sleeping only three hours a day and studying, I suppose.

‘But she was definitely a beastkin…’

Well, frankly, there was a more pressing question than whether the Saintess was a beastkin or human.

“But why isn’t the Hero accompanying the Saintess’s pilgrimage?”

The Hero’s first companion is the Saintess.

This was common knowledge as far as I knew.

Countless novels had proven it so.

Therefore, the Saintess should be with the Hero.

But there wasn’t anyone in that procession who looked like a Hero.

Of course, there’s a possibility that the Hero might be among the paladins leading the procession.

But if there were a Hero, it was certainly strange to place only the Saintess at the center of the procession.

“I heard the Hero is undergoing secluded training. In preparation for the impending crisis.”

“Ah…the prophecy about the Demon King’s invasion…”

“Well, we don’t need to worry about it, I suppose. If he’s a Hero appointed by the Gods, he’ll be able to defeat the Demon King without any problem.”

I nodded in agreement.

In fantasy novels, the Hero rarely, if ever, loses.

Unless there’s betrayal involved.

“But shouldn’t you be joining the Hero’s party later on?”

“Pardon? Why would I join?”

“Because you’re strong! The Hero who defeats the Demon King will later be with three companions, you know. Hero, Saintess, Swordsman, Mage. Like that!”

Oh, hold on?

It’s slightly different from what I know?

“Isn’t there a Rogue in the Hero’s party?”

A rogue, though what role they played was unknown, was always a part of the hero’s party.

Of course, that was only in novels.

But Asia looked at me strangely when I brought up the topic of rogues.

“A rogue? Why rogues all of a sudden? More than that, why would a hero take such a petty villain as a companion?”

It seemed that rogues were considered to be on the bad side here.

Come to think of it, the dictionary definition of a rogue was, indeed, a villain.

So, logically, there was no reason for a hero, the epitome of justice, to accept a rogue as an ally.

“Haha, it’s nothing. More importantly, I doubt such an honor as becoming a hero’s companion would ever find me.”

I tried to deny it for now, but an inexplicable sense of foreboding crept in.

‘Surely that wouldn’t actually happen…?’

*

The Holy Maiden of the Lea Order was frowning.

‘Hero, where on earth are you?’

To find the hero according to the revelation.

It was like searching for a needle in a desert.

Of course, it wasn’t that there was no chance at all.

The Holy Maiden had a way to identify the hero.

‘No one suspected a thing about my appearance.’

The secret of Reti, the Holy Maiden of the Lea Order.

She was the only beastkin among the past Holy Maidens.

A fox beastkin, to be exact.

It was a fact known only to the upper echelons of the Order.

The Holy Maiden was currently employing an illusion that no one noticed.

An illusion that hid her tail and ears, making her appear human.

Such an illusion was cast upon the Holy Maiden.

And only the hero could discern that illusion.

‘The Hero’s mental fortitude is too strong to be fooled by any illusion.’

It was due to the hero’s ability.

To reject anything that interfered with the mind.

Also, to eliminate negative emotions in dire situations, so the mind wouldn’t shut down.

Therefore, a courageous one, a hero.

Or, to put it another way, one who had lost their fear.

It was because of that ability that the hero was called a hero.

So, the hero couldn’t help but notice the Holy Maiden’s secret.

That’s why the Holy Maiden hoped that he would feel something strange about her being a beastkin, and approach her.

‘It doesn’t seem like he’s in the southern part of the Detiosk Kingdom, for now.’

She wasn’t certain, but the path she had taken held no sign of the hero.

This was the answer the Holy Maiden had come to.

She figured it couldn’t be helped.

It was still the beginning of her pilgrimage.

It would have been stranger had she found him already.

For the Saintess seeking the Hero was a trial of sorts, bestowed by the Gods.

The Saintess’s first trial.

And as a trial given by the Gods, it was by no means easy.

Certainly not something that could be resolved in a short span of time.

‘Of course… it’s been a decade, rather than just a short while… but still, there’s time.’

Five years.

A period one could deem short, or perhaps not.

But with a Hero’s growth potential, three years… no, even one year should suffice.

After all, the Heroes in fairy tales completed their training and vanquished the Demon King in merely six months.

With her resolve renewed, Saintess Letty pictured the Hero she had always imagined.

Black hair, black eyes.

The Hero of legend.

In her mind’s eye, his face remained obscured by a radiant halo.

Even imagining this Hero, the Saintess’s cheeks flushed crimson.

And her voice trembled, ever so faintly.

“Ah…! Hero…!”

The Saintess and the Hero were destined counterparts.

Remembering this, the Saintess resolved to persevere.

And so, the Saintess continued her pilgrimage.

Unaware that it had already become futile,

Oblivious to the fact that she had already passed Arthurs, the one marked with the Hero’s seal.

*

Their next destination was a café.

A medieval café, which, frankly, she hadn’t expected to compare to its modern counterpart.

But-.

‘Perhaps it possesses a certain sensibility that the modern ones lack.’

A building crafted from brick.

Perhaps due to the expense of glass.

The wall adjoining the terrace was entirely open.

And that’s what gave it that distinct “sensibility.”

Seated on the terrace, Asia placed her order.

“I’ll have a strawberry latte and a strawberry cake. What would you like?”

Asia asked, after ordering for herself.

Come to think of it, strawberry latte and strawberry cake, in a medieval setting.

It felt rather…novel.

I ordered my own drink.

“I’ll have a coffee latte, please. No dessert for me, thank you.”

From my past life, sweet things had never agreed with me.

Even more so in this life, having lived in the mountains and tasted only the raw flavors of the earth.

The only sweetness I could truly stomach?

That gentle sort emanating from things like milk.

“You needn’t hold back on my account.”

“I’m really quite alright. Not much for sweets, you see.”

“I see.”

After ordering, time trickled by in silence.

A moment later, as our drinks arrived, Asia’s eyes lit up, her face noticeably brighter.

More so than when we’d eaten from street stalls, twice as much, even.

“Seems you have a sweet tooth.”

Sipping her strawberry latte, Asia looked flustered by my comment.

“W-Well, yes, I suppose so.”

For some reason, she seemed almost ashamed of admitting to liking sweets.

Asia’s cheeks were tinted a delicate crimson.

“Anyway…there’s something I wanted to ask you.”

“Yes? What is it?”

“It’s about Count Messiah.”

Feeling we’d established some degree of familiarity, I decided to voice a question that had lingered in my mind.

Count Messiah.

Frankly, I found his attitude peculiar.

It’s embarrassing to say myself, but I was a first-rate prospective son-in-law.

Granted, I was of common birth, but I was also a disciple of the Sword Saint.

As his disciple, my swordsmanship was exemplary.

Considering the Messiah family was one of martial tradition, wouldn’t such a suitor be ideal?

Yet, to dismiss me solely on the grounds of his daughter’s preference for a love match felt… insufficient.

There had to be a hidden story.

“Why are you both so opposed to the idea of an engagement?”

If you dislike the idea, why not simply refuse it outright? Why put me through these trials?

Though, a flat refusal would be rather…inconvenient.

*’I came here to repay the old man’s kindness, a refusal would complicate things.’*

But at my question, Asia’s expression noticeably darkened.

Her reaction made me realize I’d asked something indelicate.

‘There truly is something going on.’

Asia hesitated for a moment, then spoke in a subdued voice.

“I cannot tell you.”

“Why not?”

“…It’s my father’s pain, and mine as well.”

The Count’s pain, and Asia’s.

I couldn’t even begin to fathom what lay hidden beneath the surface.

“Understood.”

I decided not to press further.

There was no use pushing for answers I wouldn’t get.

And the possibility of straining things with Asia hung in the air.

So, I sealed my lips, taking a sip of my café latte.

Seeing this, Asia offered words, a gesture of comfort.

“…If I come to believe you are a decent person…then I will tell you.”

“Your words alone are thanks enough.”

“What’s certain, at least, is that because you are the esteemed elder’s pupil, you were granted this trial in the first place. That is my belief.”

“I will keep that in mind.”

I could sense the pain these two carried.

Then, a question.

‘If that is the case, then why did the old geezer choose a false engagement based on my words? Does he not recognize their pain?’

That peculiar question took root in my mind.

*

Inside the Head of Household’s chambers, in the Count Messiah estate.

There, Count Messiah closed his eyes, lost in thought.

He knew what he was doing was wrong, by all accounts.

‘Logically, I should take him as my son-in-law, but…’

As the head of the family, it was a choice he couldn’t make.

A dereliction of duty that would be to let go of capable talent.

Of course, as a father, it would be the best choice.

Count Messiah suddenly recalled his wife’s last moments.

‘I was happy to have met you… but…’

The will his wife had left, right before passing.

‘I wish for my daughter to fall freely in love and marry whoever she desires.’

Count Messiah.

His was a marriage of political convenience, a calculated arrangement.

And so, Count Messiah held a loathing for engagements orchestrated by others.

Because such things had happened…

Count Messiah muttered to the empty air.

“As your wish, I shall make sure Asia can marry whoever she desires.”

Even if it was a fraudulent political marriage with an underlying reason, Count Messiah could never agree to it.

A political marriage is a political marriage.

Even a false one was unacceptable.

Of course, he had no intention of turning away someone his daughter liked.

However, his daughter’s choice would take precedence.

Asia, too, had said she would keep an eye on Arthur, so for now, he would leave it alone.

Truth be told, Count Messiah had a way to overcome the machinations of the Detiosque royal family.

But that was the last resort.

As Asia would rather die than go through with it.

‘This is a headache.’

And so it was, while lost in reverie, that Count Messiah received a visitor.

It was Leted, Commander of the Pure Silver Knights.

“I’ve come with information that requires your attention, my Lord.”

A sudden unease prickled at Count Messiah.

Commander Leted, that is, the Pure Silver Knights, were the knighthood dedicated to Asia.

Their reports primarily concerned matters related to Asia.

“It seems… Miss Asia has gone out for a stroll in the marketplace.”

Count Messiah felt a wave of relief wash over him at the report.

Nothing particularly alarming then.

“Didn’t I say that such things need not be reported?”

“That is…”

Commander Leted continued.

At his words, Count Messiah shot to his feet, erupting in a shout.

“A-Asia… went out alone with that scoundrel!!!”

Observing the troubled expression on Commander Leted’s face, Count Messiah realized he hadn’t misheard.

Of course, he understood that a union between the two would benefit the family.

But-.

‘That damned fool is out with my daughter…!’

Irritation surged within him.

A date with his precious daughter.

Perhaps, he mused, he simply couldn’t bear the thought of that boy ending up with her.

And so, Count Messiah resolved.

“Ah, this won’t do. Even as a fiancé candidate, such actions are…! Hmm, yes! I must impose restrictions on the actions of the fiancé candidates. But wait…”

At the same time, Count Messiah realized he had a bit more to ponder regarding this incident.