The Sword Master’s Son-in-Law

– The Handsome One

With the Champion and the Saintess gone,

The inner circle of the Papal Faction remained.

An old man walked toward the very centre of the room.

He slowly made his way to the vacant seat, and settled in.

At once, the high-ranking officials rose to their feet and bowed their heads.

“””Your Holiness!”””

The old man was the Pope.

With a gesture, the Pope bid them to sit.

And then, he inquired,

“Well… what of the Champion?”

A gaunt clergyman answered the Pope’s question.

“…He is reminiscent of the First Champion. From his handsome features to his outstanding skill. However…”

A porcine clergyman cut him off mid-sentence.

It was Haldert, the priest who had been knocked unconscious by Arthas.

“Th-that sort is no Champion! To dare raise a fist to a clergyman! How can such conduct be considered the behaviour of a Champion?”

The gaunt clergyman frowned, clearly displeased at being interrupted.

He stated the obvious.

“Ahem, was it not *you* who misspoke?”

The Pope reacted to the word “misspoke.”

“A slip of the tongue, you say?”

The gaunt cleric cast a look of weary disapproval at Halderht,

before relaying the perceived indiscretion to the Pope.

“The Saint was lovers with the Champion. And Halderht, in the Champion’s presence, insulted the Saint.”

The Pope’s brow furrowed, displeasure etched on his face.

“The Saint and the Champion, lovers…”

His mind swam with complications.

The Saint’s assassination.

He had not yet succeeded in that endeavour,

and now the Champion presented himself as a bulwark.

‘I mustn’t delay any longer…!’

The Pope needed to eliminate the Saint by any means necessary.

But then—.

‘But… why was I trying to kill the Saint in the first place?’

The question drifted, unbidden, through his thoughts.

So the Pope was lost in thought.

But he could not, for the life of him, recall the reason.

An affair now lost to memory, it seemed to him.

The Pope spoke.

“For now, it would be best to observe the situation.”

At the Pope’s words, all bowed their heads,

showing their deference.

All but one.

Halderht alone burned with unrestrained fury.

*

Having warned the Papal faction,

the danger of Leti’s assassination should be averted for a while.

I once more ventured out into the streets, taking a walk.

I felt a certain initial resistance to this space of constant stillness,

but as I walked, I realized it was a rather agreeable place.

It was… soothing, perhaps?

So I was walking through the streets, when—

‘There she is again?’

The black-haired girl I’d seen before was once again gazing at the Rhea statue.

In the same posture as before.

My curiosity was piqued once more.

“Hello?”

“…Hello.”

Unlike last time, this time the girl responded immediately.

That pleased me, so I ventured to speak some more.

“What’s your name?”

“Name… Ameri…”

“Ameri?”

“Ameria.”

Ameria.

Felt like she tacked on the ‘a’ at the last second.

“So, you’re called Ameria.”

“Yeah.”

“And Ameria, why are you here?”

I’d distinctly heard her say she was waiting for someone.

If you’re going to wait, a café would be better, no?

“I’m waiting for a human.”

“Do you have to wait only at this place?”

“Not really….”

“Then, why are you waiting here?”

“Just because.”

Ah… she hadn’t given it any thought at all.

Looking into her eyes, they seemed like they couldn’t hold a single thing.

I think I was bewitched by those eyes.

How to put it?

‘Pity? Fatherly affection?’

I wanted to fill those empty eyes with life.

Maybe it was because she reminded me of how I first saw Lily.

The guilt I feel towards Lily.

That guilt might be why I’m interested in this girl.

Lost in such pointless thoughts, I suggested a café to Ameria.

“Want to go to a café and chat?”

“A café…?”

“Never been?”

“Nope.”

She’s never been to a café.

Could it be…

“D-Do you at least eat properly?”

“I eat this.”

Ameria pulled a dark bundle from her clothes.

And from that bundle, she held up a dark liquid.

A suspicious-looking liquid.

Just seeing it filled me with revulsion, and Ameria was drinking that as a meal replacement?

“…Let’s go eat something at the café together.”

“Alright.”

Amelia didn’t refuse my suggestion.

That demeanor of hers felt somehow too compliant.

She seemed so easily deceived, I felt compelled to offer a bit of advice.

To be wary of strangers.

“Say… aren’t you a little cautious of strangers…?”

“Why?”

The girl asked, her face a perfect blank.

“Well… because you could be taken advantage of?”

“Are you going to take advantage of me?”

“That’s not it… but wouldn’t it be better to be a little wary?”

“Are *you* going to do something bad to me?”

At that moment, a strange energy emanated from the girl.

Mana, but with a slightly altered feel.

I already knew what it was.

‘She’s a mage.’

I quietly accepted it.

A mage wouldn’t be wary.

She possessed power, after all.

“No. Anyway, let’s hurry to the cafe.”

“Okay.”

.

.

.

Amelia appeared like a primitive encountering civilization for the first time.

Arriving at the cafe, even ordering the menu proved to be a challenge.

It was obvious Amelia had never been before.

She knew nothing.

So I ordered for her, more or less.

And Amelia, after tasting the food that arrived.

I noticed a glimmer of life spark in her eyes.

“It’s delicious!”

“Right?”

“It’s tastier than what I usually eat.”

Of course.

That suspicious liquid must taste awful.

‘Now that I think of her being a mage, drinking that liquid makes sense.’

I’d heard mages were all a little unhinged.

That’s probably why she ate things like that black liquid.

“What’s this? Blood?”

“Huh? That’s strawberry juice, you know?”

Blood.

No matter how I look at it, it’s not blood.

The girl took a sip, a faint smile gracing her lips.

“I like this.”

“You… your taste buds are pretty cheap, huh?”

Amelia praised everything she tasted as delicious.

I tried to start a conversation a few times during the meal, but

Amelia was so busy gobbling down her food that I gave up.

Finally, Amelia finished eating.

Now, I could finally open a dialogue.

“Amelia… until now, have you not eaten anything other than that black liquid?”

A question born from the slightest hope.

“Nope.”

As expected.

To have never eaten anything other than that.

“Why?”

“Because they never gave me anything else.”

Never gave her anything else.

Her parents wouldn’t have done that, surely.

‘Was her magician master some kind of weirdo? Enough to only feed her that? Maybe that black liquid is actually really good for magicians…’

My mind was a mess, but

I cleared my thoughts.

It wasn’t a problem I could do anything about, anyway.

“But why did you follow me without any wariness?”

“… I don’t know. Maybe I got a similar feeling to my father.”

Father?

A similar feeling?

For a dark-haired girl to feel something similar to her father from me.

Could it be…

‘Was this father also a modern person…?’

Even I thought that was a ridiculous idea.

It probably just meant our hair color was similar.

“What about me reminds you of your father?”

“Just… you’re strong. Strong enough to be compared to my father. And there’s a feeling like something about you is the exact opposite of him. That’s why I think you’re similar in some way.”

I see.

Well, she definitely didn’t think I was some kind of modern person.

“Ah…!”

Suddenly, I realized something.

I hadn’t introduced myself yet.

Belatedly, I realized my blunder,

And hurried to introduce myself.

“I’m Arthas. Uh… nothing much to speak of, really.”

I omitted the Count’s daughter and betrothal candidate, even the hero bit.

Pointless embellishments, that.

Which left me with the self-description of just… nothing much.

“Arthas… I remembered.”

“But, uh, listen…”

Something bothered me a little.

The girl before me,

Amelia, looked to be about Asia’s age.

Which meant younger than me.

Admittedly, *I’d* been the one to drop formalities first, but…

‘Something’s odd here.’

Amelia speaking informally felt…off.

And just Arthas?

A little something more tagged onto the name wouldn’t have hurt.

“How old are you?”

I brought up age as a starting point, to address it.

But then—

“My age… twenty-four.”

Huh?

Did I mishear?

“What was that?”

“Twenty-four years old.”

“No fibbing…?”

“Nope. Born twenty-four years ago.”

But her appearance, no matter how you looked at it, was that of a girl—

Asia’s contemporary.

“So, how old *are* you?”

“Me… no, *I*? I’m… twenty years old.”

Politeness slipped out before I could stop it.

“I see,”

Amelia nodded a few times, understanding.

The expression on Amelia’s face as she nodded—

Precisely, there was no emotion in that gaze.

I’d have said it was the same as always, but—

Somehow, I got the feeling Amelia’s mood had soured.

It even gave me the inexplicable urge to address Amelia as ‘older sister’.

But—

‘I do have my pride.’

I decided to just go for it, relying on sheer force of will.

Only a four-year age difference.

At this point, wasn’t it reasonable enough to become friends?

“Amelia and I aren’t that far apart in age. So, how about we become friends?”

Even I felt like I was pushing it a bit.

Amelia still looked at me with an indifferent expression.

“Friends…?”

“Yeah. Friends. These days, people who are four years apart become friends, they say.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah. So, let’s be friends.”

“Okay.”

And just like that, fueled by bravado, I made my second friend in the Heiviss Holy Empire.

Thinking of this,

The face of my first friend, Rednil, suddenly came to mind.

‘I wonder if he’s doing well…?’