“He was always kind to and protective toward those close to him, but harsh and cold to everyone else.”
Sebastian snorted a laugh. “Typical villain behavior, is it not?”
The three men fidgeted restlessly at the open hostility Sebastian showed toward the prince.
“Before you three arrived, what were you told about the autonomous zone?” Char asked. She and Sebastian assumed the same thing: The three men had probably been told nothing, led to believe they were being dropped into a paradise.
“We were told that the autonomous zone would likely rebel one day, and that our lives would be in danger.”
Now it was Char and Sebastian’s turn to share a look of surprise.
“His Highness said that if things got dangerous, we could ask for his protection and be guaranteed safety...”
Oh, so they would be safe regardless?
“...but we turned him down.”
After a long pause, Char finally spoke up. “Why?”
Vigo straightened, looking her directly in the eye as he answered. “Because we didn’t want to spend the rest of our lives as slaves. We wanted to live and die as people.”
For the first time, it was like Char could finally see the men clearly without the perception that they were “slaves of the demonic kingdom” obstructing that view. Their hesitant, faltering manner had hidden it quite well, but within their eyes was a powerful light—a spark ignited in them by a hero. A fire that demanded the respect of others not as slaves but as people.
“And how did the prince respond to your refusal?” Char asked regardless. She needed to know.
“All he said was ‘very well.’ And then he nodded...with a smile.”
The way they described him, he did indeed sound gentle. On the battlefield, he was a vicious warrior. In the throne room, he was a mad agitator. And now from the perspective of Vigo and the others, he was a gentle guardian. Char had no idea which facet of Zilbagias was his true colors anymore. But for Char, regardless of which side was the real Zilbagias, he was still the object of her revenge. For Leo, and for everyone else.
By the time their conversation with the three new arrivals had ended, the sun had long set. With the autonomous zone accepting them as citizens, Char and Sebastian made the necessary arrangements to have them integrated. Skilled workers like Dirilo and Organo were always in high demand, so even if it wasn’t in their exact fields, there was a tremendous amount of work for them to do.
Listening to Vigo play his violin made it clear how much skill he possessed, so he would likely have no issues earning his keep at any pub in the city. But he seemed to be more keen to the idea of becoming a soldier or a member of the City Guard, wishing to protect the people of Evaloti. The rarity of his skills and talents, measured against the bare minimum of combat training the three of them had received...it was a hard decision to make.
“Maybe he can form a military band of some sort in the future,” Sebastian had joked. Never mind a band, they’d need to form an actual military before it came to that. But despite the intention of the joke, Vigo had immediately lit up, innocently excited that there was even a concept such as a military band. They could only hope that this new dream of his would come true someday.
“We’ll have to do our best.” They needed to firmly establish the autonomous zone. Char resolved herself anew, looking up at the starry night sky.
Leo...you really were a great hero.
Proof of his life still burned brightly. She would protect that light by fighting with her all. That was what she had decided.
When she closed her eyes to pray, Leo’s gentle smile immediately rose to greet her. She could feel the heat in her eyes returning...but this time, there were no tears.
†††
It wasn’t until the next day that the City Guard’s patrol returned, broken and bloodied.
†††
“Lord Zil, an undead messenger is here to see you.”
While I was reading in my room in the Demon King’s castle, Veene called for me. This was the usual time Enma sent me her daily reports. Stepping out of my room, I found an undead cloaked under a large hood who respectfully offered me a letter.
“A message from my lord Enma...” The undead’s lack of discernible features gave no hints as to their gender. Claire used to do this delivery job for Enma, but she was now in Evaloti. The fact this undead could speak meant it must have been fairly high-level, right?
That was what I thought at first, but once I took the letter, the undead gave me a wink and made a kissing sound. So yeah, clearly it was just Enma. Luckily, I was quick on the uptake to realize that her strange behavior was a kind of signal, so I played along.
“Please excuse me...” After a grin, the undead servant (probably Enma) immediately snapped back to being entirely expressionless and took their leave.
Making the bodies for Barbara and Hessel had made me painfully aware of how difficult it was to get the soft parts like the vocal tract and lips to work properly. For a born fighter like me, the level of skill required was far outside my wheelhouse. Even the way she was able to make them purse their lips like a kiss was probably Enma’s attempt at showing off her mastery, displaying how even her messengers had such fine and precise control.
“Honestly...” Ante groaned. “No, never mind.”
What’s with you? Every time Enma comes up, you get all weird.
Anyway, I had my daily report from Enma. The envelope was quite a bit thicker than normal. That meant there was a lot more worth reporting than usual. I couldn’t say it was a good sign. Dropping onto my sofa, I scanned the letter.
Major losses in the City Guard? What happened?
While they’d been patrolling Evaloti’s surroundings, their camp had been attacked by a warbear, a fiend that was like a bear with tons of arms. Back when I was a human, I had a run-in with one. Talk about a struggle that had been. Just blocking one of its strikes with my shield had made my arm feel like it had shattered. Though of course, Adamas had had no problem splitting its head in two.
But as far as I knew, there were no heroes or Weaponmasters in the City Guard. The fact that any of them had lived to tell the tale was kind of miraculous.
Ah, four arms? So that warbear was still young. They made a desperate fighting retreat, huh? Humans don’t stand a chance outrunning a warbear, so that was definitely the correct choice.
Many had died, and there were those among the survivors who had succumbed to their injuries before healing could reach them.
I scowled, then quickly tried to smooth my expression over for the sake of my servants. The timing was just terrible. That was all I could say. I made my visits to Evaloti on a fairly irregular basis, and didn’t stay for a fixed number of days. Sophia often complained that doing things that way was a pain, so she wanted me to make a clear schedule beforehand. But I had persisted this far without issue.