At the recent joint wedding ceremony, Black Oseo had hurled abusive words at Magyan Tahlan. Feeling that their formally welcomed groom had been insulted, the Sepaeda family sent Sansui Shirokuro as retribution, and the kingdom of Oseo was left half destroyed.
News of the event spread throughout the entire Arcana Kingdom, but few took it seriously.
“There’s no way a single human could be that strong. The nobles just want to glorify their pet swordsman—but they’re laying it on a bit too thick.”
Such was the general attitude within the country, and the incident never became a major public uproar.
Those who did take it seriously were mostly the ones who had witnessed it directly—that is to say, the people of Oseo who had suffered the invasion, and the leaders of the great nations who had watched from their airships. They had seen true power with their own eyes, and in doing so, had come to know their own smallness.
As for those who believed the stories of Sansui’s heroics without witnessing them firsthand—they were few, mostly people close to him. Even so, believing was one thing; being glad about it was another.
“So, that’s what happened... I went and toppled a kingdom.”
“You went too far...”
“That’s awful, papa.”
Sansui had returned to Blois’s family home. There, he told his wife and children everything that had happened. In Blois’s room, seated calmly in a chair, he recounted the events as accurately as he could. He was the kind of father who could come home and confide in his family when work upset him. It just so happened that his work involved killing people.
“I can’t say the lord’s decision was wrong, but carrying it out so completely... That’s another matter.”
“You’re right.”
Many excuses came to Sansui’s mind, but he couldn’t deny her point. At the very least, Blois’s words were based in ordinary, human values. Even the head of the Sepaeda family himself had admitted it—this had been a brutal, excessive act of vengeance. If anything, it would have been far more frightening if Blois had praised him with a “Well done.”
“Honestly, I think part of me was angry too.”
At the wedding, Prince Black of Oseo had said to Tahlan: “If the Magyan Kingdom really exists, and you really are a prince...you should be back in your country, doing your absolute best for them! Not here, in a faraway land! Even if you are to wed, it should be with someone from a neighboring country! Even though you’re a prince, you’re going against the interests of your nation just by being here! You aren’t a prince! You’re nothing!”
Sansui had heard every word. And he had to admit—there was some truth in what the prince had said. Even Princess Setenve had voiced similar doubts before the ceremony had begun, and Tahlan himself must have had conflicted feelings about it.
But still, it wasn’t something an unrelated outsider had any right to say. Both nations had recognized the marriage; a third party had no business interfering.
And to say such things in the middle of the ceremony, solely to humiliate the groom—that crossed every line.
“When I saw Prince Tahlan’s face, so full of sorrow... I don’t think I could have stayed calm.”
Whatever political motives existed, that wedding was meant to mark the beginning of Tahlan and Douve’s new life together. And Prince Black had trampled all over that moment—with both Sansui and the Sepaeda family’s lord watching.
“I know what I did was terrible. But...I couldn’t just let it go.”
The envoy from Magyan had told them that if the prince married so far away, their kingdom would be powerless to protect him. And yet, the envoy had also said to Tahlan himself: “If such a strong warrior stands by your side, if such a great man supports you, then you’ll surely be all right.”
“For the sake of those who came all the way from Magyan...I had to show my strength.”
It had been he himself who had inspired that expectation—and so, he had felt compelled to live up to it.
“I suppose that’s what duty really means,” Blois said, reluctantly convinced.
The ceremony had also served as a formal establishment of relations with the kingdom of Magyan. If that had been disgraced, then perhaps such overwhelming retaliation was, in its way, justified. And now that she was a mother herself, she could understand the personal aspect more deeply as well.
If Fanne or Lain—her daughters—were ever humiliated like that in their future marriages... The thought alone made her chest ache. If the in-laws did nothing in response, she would surely go and bring her child home herself. And as both mother and newly married wife, Blois, slightly embarrassed, asked her husband a timid question:
“S-Sansui...when we have our own wedding ceremony...if someone were to insult me, would you fight for me the same way?”
“Of course I would,” Sansui answered without hesitation.
It was the kind of conversation only newlyweds could have—a quiet, strangely tender moment between husband and wife.
“I don’t like that kind of wedding...”
Their daughter expressed her dislike quite plainly.
“It’s supposed to be a happy ceremony, but if papa goes and puts a bunch of people’s heads on pikes, that’s just awful...”
“You’re right...”
“Lain’s a smart girl,” Blois said. “She’s saying all the right things.”
The best outcome, of course, was for the ceremony to end without incident, exactly as planned. Nobody wanted a blood-soaked wedding.
“Papa, that kind of thing won’t happen at your and Mama Blois’s wedding, right?”
“Well, it doesn’t usually happen at any wedding... But, yeah, I think we’ll be fine.”
“Right, it doesn’t usually happen,” Blois said. “So why did it happen that time?”
Both Sansui and Blois were serious-minded people; they couldn’t begin to understand what sort of fool would shout insults at a wedding. Complaining in private at home was one thing, but to start yelling in public was beyond comprehension.
“Why won’t you just say, ‘Don’t worry, it’ll be fine’?”
“Because, Lain, idiots exist everywhere. The world’s full of people like that...”
“Then do something about it!”
Lain had a point. Instead of complaining, they really should start thinking about precautions. But since this was a matter of basic common sense, countermeasures were difficult. It wasn’t as if they could write ‘Please refrain from insulting the bride and groom’ on the invitations. And even if they did, those who wanted to cause trouble would do it anyway.
“What if we wrote, ‘Anyone who insults the couple will incur the wrath of Lord Sepaeda’?”
“That’d be meaningless now...”
Few people believed the rumor that it had been Sansui alone who’d brought down an entire kingdom, but regardless of how it really happened, no one doubted that the head of the Sepaeda family had sanctioned the matter afterward. Which meant that anyone who dared to insult Sansui or Blois now would be a fool brave—or stupid—enough to defy even Sepaeda itself.
And that was precisely what Prince Black had been.
“At this point, we might as well limit the guest list—just close family, your relatives, and my students.”
“Good idea. That way, at least, we won’t have any idiots.”
Either they could meticulously curate the guest list with only those who could be trusted not to do anything foolish, or they could keep the ceremony small enough that only family need be invited. The guest list would shrink, and the wedding would be modest—but neither of them cared much for appearances anyway.
“I’ll talk it over with father and the others,” Blois said.
“Right. And I’ll speak with my master... My master... My— Oh no...”
At that point, the two of them groaned and buried their faces in their hands. There was one man they couldn’t possibly leave out: Suiboku, Sansui’s master—and the most dangerous man in the world. As long as Suiboku attended, the wedding would carry an ever-present risk of national collapse. Granted, Sansui himself was hardly any safer, but Suiboku was far more short-tempered and proud, and immeasurably stronger.
“If something did happen, he’d probably shout, ‘How dare you disrupt my disciple’s wedding!’ and get right into a fight,” Lain said.
She, too, knew what kind of man Suiboku was, and she had reached the same grim conclusion. They couldn’t afford even the slightest disturbance. The cheerful warmth that had filled the Shirokuro family moments before was gone, replaced by a palpable tension.
But then again, perhaps a high percentage of weddings in the world were like that, more full of anxious effort to make sure nothing went wrong than of simple happiness.