“Faust, out of breath, sheathed his greatsword across his back,” the military officer said. “His entire body was covered with blood, and his chainmail was torn to shreds. He looked terrifying, but his expression was exhausted; he’d just finished a duel to the death and used every bit of power he had. He preciously cradled Lord Reckenbell’s head in his arms and called for the vice commander.”
“That’d be you,” the civil servant said.
“That’s right.”
This military officer was none other than the vice captain of Villendorf’s knights; she’d served as Reckenbell’s direct subordinate.
“Faust said that she was a powerful opponent,” the military officer recalled. “She was stronger than any knight or fighter he’d ever faced. He declared that he would never forget his duel with her, and he dutifully returned Lord Reckenbell’s head to us.”
“He wasn’t afraid of being torn asunder right then and there…” the civil servant mused.
“Not at all. He exhibited no fear, and while I know that he understands our values and morals…”
He killed our hero, Lord Reckenbell. There was a good chance that some boorish moron would lose herself in rage and seek vengeance upon him. Yet, Faust von Polidoro had remained unafraid.
“Is that it?” the civil servant asked.
“That’s it,” the military officer replied. “He took his citizens, who’d been watching over that duel like we were, and returned to his army.”
The officer emptied her mug, but she made no attempt to ask for another.
“Faust von Polidoro sounds absolutely horrifying,” the civil servant said.
“As I’ve said, he was a sublime man,” the officer replied simply.
A question remained in the civil servant’s mind. “What happened to the rest of Lord Reckenbell’s body? We only learned of her death after the Campaign of Villendorf ended.”
“We lost, after all,” the officer answered. “We couldn’t parade her corpse around to honor her passing. Our hero may have been the cause of our loss, but no idiot would ever dare dishonor her death. Even after the loss in the Campaign of Villendorf, her past accomplishments would make up for it and then some! Do Lord Reckenbell’s feats until now mean nothing?!”
The officer clicked her tongue angrily and gazed at her empty mug. She asked for another pint, and the owner swiftly obliged.
“Lord Reckenbell’s funeral was quietly held by her family, us knights, and Her Majesty, though it was carried out with the highest honors,” the officer explained. “I suggest you visit her grave too, one day.”
“But of course,” the civil servant replied. “She was our hero.”
The civil servant took a sip of her ale as the atmosphere of the tavern became gloomy. Faust deserved praise for his victory, but she was genuinely saddened by the loss of Villendorf’s hero.
“What about Lord Reckenbell’s family?” the civil servant asked. “Will her sister take over her household?”
“No,” the officer replied. “Lord Reckenbell was the pride and joy of her household, and her sisters entreated for her only daughter, Lady Nina, to take over the house. Lord Reckenbell’s sisters will handle the house for now until Lady Nina comes of age.”
“Lady Nina. I see…”
I’m glad to hear it, the civil servant thought. The blood of Lord Reckenbell flows through her veins. I’m sure that she, too, will become a hero someday.
“Though belated, I’d like to raise a toast to our hero, Lord Reckenbell,” the military officer said.
“And to Lady Nina, who will surely become a hero one day,” the civil servant added.
The two Villendorfian ladies clinked their mugs together and chugged down their ale.