“…Like I said… What?” Rintarou and Nayuki started engaging in small talk, with Nayuki filling him in about the three-day vacuum when he had been asleep. “I’m glad you’re fine, Rintarou. You know, Luna was so upset when you collapsed. I thought she would burst into tears at any minute…” “I bet.” “Hmm? Someone’s confident.” “Obviously. She knows I’m one of her most powerful pawns. I provide a decent amount of utility. If my most valuable minion disappeared out of nowhere, I’d be crying, too.” “Oh. Ha-ha… You couldn’t be more wrong… Are you the type to get dense around your crush?” “…?” It was becoming more obvious that Rintarou and Nayuki weren’t on the same page, but neither of them seemed to mind. Time continued to pass. During their conversation, Nayuki’s phone pinged, indicating a new message. She checked it. “Oh, it’s Luna. She says she just got to the hospital. She’s heading over.” “Ugh… I seriously wish she wasn’t…,” Rintarou grumbled, scratching his head. “…But having someone come to my aid…,” he accidentally let slip. “It feels…strange…” “Something the matter?” “Nothing…” He snorted. “I’ve never had anyone stick by me, even when I collapsed from illness.” He was thinking about the times when he had been treated as a monster, when his friends and family looked upon him with scorn. “…But it feels like my time has suddenly been occupied with people.” “I mean, yeah. Things are different from your past…because you have Luna now, Rintarou.” For some strange reason, Nayuki seemed exuberant—and lonely at the same time. “What’s wrong, Nayuki?” “Stay by Luna’s side, Rintarou. Protect her.” She refused to answer his question, maintaining her melancholy smile. “I think you’ll be fine as long as you have her…and…” Rintarou was ready to question her… CRAAAAAAAAAAAASH! Someone smashed through the hospital window, hurtling into the room. The body bounced three times off the floor before crashing into a wall. The intruder shot up from the ground. “R-RINTAROU!” It was Luna. She zeroed in on her now-conscious friend. Her eyes moistened…and in the next moment, she pushed aside Nayuki to barrel in on Rintarou. She gripped his hand. “Are you okay?! I can’t believe you’re awake!” “Are you okay?” Because of her choice entrance, she was drenched in blood, battered and bruised from blasting through the glass and slamming onto the ground. She looked more like the one who needed intensive care than Rintarou. “Sniff… I was so…worried!” “I’m worried about you, too… Particularly your brain.” Rintarou gazed out the broken window, looking worse for wear. Based on the expanse of sky, he doubted the room was on just the first or second floor. “If you never woke up…I just wouldn’t know what to do! Who else would I force to do my errands?” “…I regret regaining consciousness.” He stared into the distance. He could hear a flurry of footsteps sprinting down the hallway toward them. When that registered, Luna suddenly pushed herself away from Rintarou. “What do you think you’re doing, Luna?!” The hospital door violently flung open as Emma skidded into the room. “’Sup, Emma,” Rintarou said. “Oh, master…! You’re okay…? I-I’m so glad…” Emma beamed for a moment, looking relieved. Then her jaw clamped down as she glared at Luna. “What were you thinking, challenging me to a race here and posing it as a ‘match between Kings’? This is a hospital! Don’t tell me you don’t know what’s right from wrong!” “And what’s your point? I can obviously fix the window with magic. Says the Goody Two-shoes who went all out…” “Grrr!” Emma desperately tried to hide her ragged breaths, wiping away the sweat forming on her forehead. “And this just proves I’m his rightful lord!” Luna bragged. “HOW?!” “I got to my vassal-in-distress faster than anyone…! What more would prove I’m fit to be King?” “How does sprinting up a hospital wall and breaking through the seventh-floor window prove your worthiness as King?” “Ha-ha-ha! Someone’s jealous! That’s why you became my maid after losing your right to be King! How about you learn from your mistakes for a change? And stop making passes at my beloved vassal!” “Ugh! I—I wasn’t hitting on him or anything!” Luna and Emma exchanged glares, wrestling each other. Rintarou watched their catfight, unimpressed… “How are you feeling, Rintarou?” Luna demanded. “The most important thing is you’re okay,” Emma assured. “Geez… I never would have expected to see you in the hospital,” Sir Kay said, filtering into the room with Felicia in her goth dress and Sir Gawain in tatters. “Y-you guys…,” Rintarou said. “Don’t scare us like that…,” Felicia responded. “I had a rough time dealing with the girls while you were out. Hmph… I can’t believe you’d make a girl cry.” “Shut up, Gawain. You’re the last person I want to hear that from. Making girls cry left and right. Home-wrecker,” Rintarou snapped. “Grrr! I’m only faithful to my wife, Ragnelle, now!” All the blood drained out of his face. “Y-you should be focusing on stopping the girls before things get out of control!” “Fine! Then let’s settle this with a ‘duel between caretakers’!” Luna shouted. “Are you sure about that? Housework gives me an advantage,” Emma said. “Ha-ha-ha! Well, I’ve got a secret plan!” When Sir Gawain and Rintarou looked over at them, the conversation was already taking a turn for the worse. Even Emma seemed to abandon her demure nature when Luna got involved. “Yes, Emma! Get her!” Sir Kay cheered. “Rintarou doesn’t deserve Luna! As practically her sister, I think it would be better if you got together with Rintarou, and—” “Traitor!” “Ow! I’m sorry! Not the cobra twist! Aaaah!” With Sir Kay pulled into the chaos, the hospital room broke into total pandemonium. Felicia and Sir Gawain exchanged looks and shrugged. Rintarou folded his hands behind his head, lying on the bed as though he were simply exhausted. “You’re all annoying.” But he didn’t mind this feeling. He hated to admit it, but…this wasn’t all that bad. “Hmph…” Rintarou sighed out of his nose, looking up at the ceiling while keeping an eye on the fight in his periphery. “Hee-hee,” chuckled Nayuki as she continued to watch him. The same day… Deep into the night… An Air Smith England charter flight arrived in Area Eight of the international city of Avalonia, touching down on the second runway of Avalon International Airport. A pair of travelers made their way down the ramp and onto the runway. One of them was an older gentleman wearing a polished tailcoat. The other was a beautiful woman in a dark suit paired with a jacket. When the two made their entrance, they were surrounded by men in black who bowed deeply to the older gentleman. He exchanged two or three words with the men before following them as they guided him somewhere. The gentleman and the woman were led to the rear of a limousine driven by another man in black. They drove along the main highway, snaking through each of the areas of the artificial island, New Avalon. The headlights cut through the darkness, where the deserted roads remained empty at the witching hour. As they swerved through the roadway, neon lights of the distant city winked at them like a chandelier. They were headed toward Area Seven of Avalonia—the high-class residential quarter. There resided the older gentleman’s base. “…The time has finally come, Lord Ainz,” solemnly observed the woman sitting next to the older gentleman. “As a King participating in this King Arthur Succession Battle, I will be battling all warriors… I’m looking forward to it.” The gentleman—Ainz—dropped his eyes to the saber in his hands. He came from the family of Earl Ainz, a distinguished military household in Cornwall that’s been known since olden times. He was the current head of the family—Sir Abraham Ainz. Ainz was one of the front-runners in the King Arthur Succession Battle. Upon close investigation, his build was impressively muscular despite his age. His eyes were as sharp as a hawk’s. He could be described as an aged veteran, seasoned with battle. “The treasure hunt has still to be officially announced,” the woman explained. “But…it seems there’s already been some battles between Kings. You would never guess that Souma Gloria Kujou from the Kujou Corporation and Emma Michelle from the Religious Order of Saint Joan have already dropped out.” “Hmm. To think there’s a challenger strong enough to drive them away… I hate that I’m late to the game.” “Rest assured, I’ll protect you—should any opponent appear before you. That’s the reason I responded to your summons.” “Ha! I’m not worried. But I expect great things from you,” Ainz said. Not even a moment later… …the limousine exploded without warning. “—What in the world…?!” Ainz and the woman escaped by a hairbreadth, skidding along the road and burning the soles of their shoes. They whipped around toward the limousine going up in flames in the distance, aghast. “What’s happening?!” “Lord Ainz! Over there!” He looked in the direction she pointed. Ahead on the highway—about two hundred yards away—a pair of people had appeared out of nowhere. One was a boy in his teens, a young man who seemed like he’d been coddled and never had to work a day in his life. He lugged around some type of long cloth package on his back. Behind the boy was a male knight wearing azure armor and a surcoat. He was handsome enough to make them doubt their eyes and held a bow at the ready. The two were staring down Ainz and the woman. There was no doubt. They had to be a King and a Jack—participants of the King Arthur Succession Battle. “Trying to catch us off guard, huh? …Pathetic!” snapped the woman, fixing her gaze on the sudden intruders. “Fair enough. This place is already a battlefield. Surprises and sneak attacks come with the game.” “But the driver…! Lord Ainz, we’re—” “I regret dragging him into this…but that’s war.” With a meek expression on his face, Ainz prodded forward, using the saber as though it were a cane. The assailants slowly walked toward Ainz and the woman. Eventually, only a few dozen yards remained between them. Both sides faced one another. “You’re Sir Abraham Ainz, aren’t you?” the boy asked, eyes burning with a mission as they fixed on Ainz. “Indeed… And you are?” “I’m Hitoshi Kataoka… The man who’s destined to become a hero,” declared the boy, carrying himself with confidence. “Hmm. In other words, you’re a King trying to become King Arthur.” “Basically.” The boy flashed a smile at him. Ainz gazed intently at Hitoshi, realizing something that he could perceive only from devoting his life to serving as a soldier. The boy’s carriage, appearance, and disposition…were amateurish. In fact, Ainz guessed this boy had never held a sword before. He must have been some normal kid who had grown up in a world isolated from bloody battles. But he seemed to be strangely confident on the battlefield, which could mean just one thing… The Jack… Ainz glared at the archer knight who stood at the boy’s side. When it came to those of the Round Table skilled in archery…there was only one knight that came to mind. As if to confirm his guess, the archer exuded a threatening vibe, even though he stood quietly to the side. From his air, he could have been a terrifying god. “…Lord Ainz, be careful. That knight is—” “I know.” Ainz nodded. “—In conclusion, I’m the chosen one, the man who’s destined to become a hero. I’ll become King Arthur and save this world. I’m fighting for everyone. In the name of justice, I need to defeat you… No hard feelings.” He’s immature, Ainz concluded of Hitoshi. At first glance, Hitoshi seemed plenty confident, but it was all an act. He was trying to pass off his own delusional beliefs, vanity, and a host of other issues by bluffing, propping himself up with a set of meaningless platitudes. He was trying to make himself bigger, desperate to seem like a more important presence than he was. Which made him an ordinary kid going through a serious case of puberty. After learning the untold “truth” of the world, he must have gotten carried away to the point of no return. “You said your name was Hitoshi Kataoka?” Ainz asked. As the sensible adult, he had the responsibility to warn him. “Drop out of the succession battle. You don’t have what it takes to be a King. Even if a kid participates, you’ll get yourself killed and die young with regret.” “H-how dare you…?! You…geezer!” It seemed he was easily provoked, too. Hitoshi lost his temper at Ainz’s gentle advice. “What would you know about my honest resolve?! You know what? Fine! Since I’ll have to defeat everyone sooner or later…I’ll show you my strength!” Hitoshi shouted before commanding the knight who stood at the ready behind him. “This is a royal order! Sir Tristan! Defeat them!” “As you wish.” The dashing knight’s bow and arrows vanished into thin air. He brandished a shining sword, saturating the air with an Aura that could destroy the entire world. He commanded enough of a presence and force that Ainz seemed like a child in comparison. If Ainz had been an ordinary person, it would have crushed his soul to face Sir Tristan. “Whoa!” barked Ainz, who was the strongest individual among the Kings. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead. The color drained from his face. “You scared?! This is my strength…my Jack, Sir Tristan!” Hitoshi gleefully shouted like a kid bragging about his new toy. “Sir Tristan, huh…? I didn’t think we’d run into him as soon as we got here,” said the woman waiting next to Ainz. “Sir Tristan. Ninth seat of the Round Table… One of the three strongest knights. Up there with Sir Lancelot and Sir Lamorak. I can understand why that boy is so confident.” “I see… A knight from the legendary era…,” mused Ainz, smiling to himself even as he stood in front of someone with military standards beyond those of the modern day. “I hate to admit it, but that Jack is too much for me to handle.” “It would seem that way. Sir Lancelot or Sir Lamorak are the only ones who could win against him. And even then…their odds of winning would be fifty-fifty.” “If they were trying to win,” Ainz said with composure. That was when Sir Tristan launched off the ground. With the force of a raging storm, he raced toward Ainz, the highway cracking under his feet from the force of his momentum. His body was concealed by the tempest, through which his sword glimmered wickedly. He had been blessed with power from the gods of war: Any sword wielded by his arms could bisect anything, including the earth itself. The strength of his arms was considered the strongest of the Round Table. Given another moment, Ainz would have been reduced to a pile of blood and sinew…but he turned to the woman instead. “And? What’s your opinion? Think you could take that?” he asked. “—A foolish question,” she responded like he was stupid. “Who do you think I am?” It was that critical moment. Something boomed like a lightning strike. It had come from the deadly sword Sir Tristan swung as soon as he was in range. But the woman in front of Ainz blocked his blade with a spear over her head, which she held in her left hand with ease. “What?! Halting Sir Tristan with one hand?! There’s no way!” Hitoshi’s eyes went wide. “Wait! Wasn’t that—?” Just as Hitoshi realized something was off, a blinding light enveloped her body as she continued to hold her spear. Her Aura channeled into physical armor and a surcoat. A gorgeous knight stepped out of the light. For a moment, Hitoshi couldn’t take his eyes off the maiden of war, who was commanding and charming at the same time. But it wouldn’t take long for anyone to realize that she was missing her right arm. Hitoshi hadn’t noticed until then because she had been wearing that dark coat. “The One-Handed Knight?! Sir Bedivere?!” Hitoshi couldn’t help shouting. A missing arm. This famous piece of information flashed through his mind, connecting the dots. Sir Bedivere. The seventh seat of the Round Table. The One-Handed Knight. Known as Bedrydant of the Perfect Sinew. With Sir Kay, Sir Lucan, and Merlin, Sir Bedivere had supported King Arthur from the moment he’d raised his flag. She had been one of the longest-serving members of the Round Table. At that moment, Sir Tristan and Sir Bedivere wrestled, blade against spear, matched in power. If anything, Sir Bedivere was overpowering Sir Tristan. “I can’t believe it! How could Sir Bedivere threaten the strongest knight?! She didn’t do anything noteworthy in the legends! …How?!” Hitoshi screeched. Sir Bedivere pushed back Sir Tristan. “I’m King Arthur’s royal guard! I vowed to protect the king at all costs, abandoning the prospect of making a name for myself through military conquests and completing quests!” “—What?!” “I’ve been blessed with the Vow of the Missing Hand: By devoting my life to protecting the king, pushing aside fame, and refusing to go on the offensive…my power increases threefold for defensive attacks. Sir Tristan might be the strongest of the Round Table, but I won’t let him through without a fight!” “Hmph. I see you haven’t changed, Sir Bedivere…,” Sir Tristan grumbled as though bored. “…Sir Tristan…?!” “Why bother? There’s no meaning in the world…,” he muttered, appearing jaded and uninterested as he faced Sir Bedivere, who was burning with a mission to protect her King. If not for the hostility radiating off his body, it was hard to believe he was a cornerstone of the Round Table. “Wh-what do you think you’re doing, Sir Tristan?! Hurry up and crush that runt!” Hitoshi shrieked. “Hmm—” Sir Tristan considered before striking with his sword. The blade skipped through the air, heading for Sir Bedivere from all angles. Like brief flashes of lightning shooting around her. “Hah!” Sir Bedivere swiveled her spear—repelling, flicking away, snapping back. A storm of sparks fluttered down like petals from a flower. Metal screeched against metal in a deafening collision. As spear smashed into sword, the wind billowed around them, sweeping through the area. But they were on the same field. Sir Bedivere handled each of Sir Tristan’s parries without retreating a step. “My King! Now!” she called out. “Cover for me!” Ainz ran like the wind, passing by Sir Bedivere and Sir Tristan as they crossed swords. His goal was simple: the head of Hitoshi, left unguarded while the boy was separated from his Jack. “Now then, boy…I warned you to turn down becoming a King.” Shing. Ainz drew his sword, sprinting toward Hitoshi. It was a military blade—an Excalibur in the shape of a saber. The blade with its gentle curve glinted under the light of the moon. It was like Ainz had ballooned into the size of a giant just from his hostility. He didn’t even seem human anymore. Though he didn’t have Sir Tristan’s presence, Ainz was enough of a monster now. “I’ve dedicated my entire life to battle! War is life! Victory is honor! This King Arthur Succession Battle stands at the peak! I fight for the sake of victory!” Sir Tristan was Hitoshi’s Jack, which meant Hitoshi’s mana had given him his material form. In other words, if Ainz killed Hitoshi, Sir Tristan wouldn’t be able to retain his body, causing him to vanish. “Eeeeek?!” Hitoshi shrieked as Ainz approached. His body was seized with fear when he sensed murder coming from a true soldier. Hitoshi’s true power as a King had already come to light. He was a true amateur, even though a few drops of Arthurian blood coursed through his veins. Even though Sir Tristan, one of the strongest knights, was at his disposal. By some stroke of luck, he had obtained a Jack and learned about the dark side of the world to participate in the succession battle…but that was where his journey ended. Ainz almost pitied him. But he was just getting what was coming for him. He was young enough to think he was invincible. He lacked imagination. Those were his faults. “I’ll add you to my collection of battle trophies, boy!” Ainz shouted, picking up his pace. He had caught Hitoshi at a distance where he could get him with a swing of his blade. He had already warned the boy. But Hitoshi had stepped onto the battlefield as a King, challenging them to a fight of his own accord. That was why Ainz sympathized with his first opponent, even if it was just a kid. With the speed of lightning, Ainz drove his sword toward Hitoshi’s throat. The blade pierced through the air, shrilling through the night as it closed in on his neck. All would have imagined this battle was over before it really began. CLANG! Metal screeched as a shock of light flashed in the darkness. “What…just happened…?!” Ainz’s fatal blow had seized Hitoshi’s throat. But that was all. The blade had only touched the muscles of his neck—without piercing even a single millimeter through Hitoshi’s skin. It had not even drawn a drop of blood. “What…?! What on earth…?!” “…Ha! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!” Hitoshi burst into sporadic fits of laughter, harmonizing with Ainz’s bark of surprise. “H-how’s that?! See? A-an attack like that can’t hurt me!” “Ghhh?!” But Ainz was shaken for only a moment. He instantly rammed his sword into Hitoshi again, showering him with nonstop slashes. Flashes of silver darted around the boy from all directions. Ainz suspected Hitoshi had used some kind of magical defense on himself. The older man channeled more of his Aura into his weapon, using every ounce of strength to pierce through Hitoshi’s defenses. Ainz could have leveled a skyscraper with his attacks. But he couldn’t get through to Hitoshi. “Impossible…!” Even if Hitoshi was weaponizing a powerful magical defense, he should have sustained some damage from the attacks. However, the barrier hadn’t even been scratched. His sword wasn’t proving effective. It wasn’t that the defensive barrier had protected him from the attacks. Or that it was stronger. Ainz realized there was an underlying fundamental reason behind his futility. Gh… What kind of power is this?! If it keeps up, I’ll never be able to defeat him! Unease was etched on Ainz’s face as he continued to plunge his sword. Sir Bedivere was holding back Sir Tristan. But that was only for now—a product of her special ability. There was a huge disparity between their natural powers. The invocation of her blessing devoured mana. As more time passed, Sir Bedivere was left at more of a disadvantage. That had been why Ainz had launched a direct attack at the King. However, now that this course of action proved impossible, continuing to fight was no longer the wisest choice. Ainz’s Excalibur was deadly, but it didn’t have the type of power that could overcome Hitoshi’s mysterious shield. In fact, they were fundamentally incompatible. And there was no need to reveal his hand here, when he knew it would be meaningless. As the natural enemy of warmongers, Ainz could sense where the battle was heading. “Tch! Retreat, Sir Bedivere.” He didn’t hesitate to decide to withdraw… That was when a silver meteor shower poured down from the night sky, pummeling Ainz. “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH?!” Ainz let out an anguished shriek. A streak of red blood blossomed like a shower of flower petals. The surprise attack had caught him completely off guard. His entire body had been pierced with enough daggers that he looked like a hill of swords. “Glarg…?!” Ainz hacked up blood, crashing into the ground. “Ah! LORD AINZ!” screeched Sir Bedivere upon witnessing the scene, trying to sprint to his side. But Sir Tristan quickly thwarted her attempts. “I hate to inform you of this…but I can’t let you through, Sir Bedivere.” “D-dammit…! Move, Sir Tristan!” In a rage, she tried to strike him. “Hmph… I told you… It’s pointless.” Sir Tristan maneuvered past Sir Bedivere’s spear with his sword. “As is everything in the world…resistance is futile…” He shoved her back before slicing into her. “Ngh?!” This time, Sir Bedivere was the one who was pacified. The Vow of the Missing Hand couldn’t be invoked in fights where she was the attacker. Because Sir Bedivere had no choice but to strike, she didn’t have a way to break through Sir Tristan. “G-gh…! Th-they got us…! Was this an ambush…?!” Ainz managed to peel his face from the ground…and spotted a girl at the outer reaches of his blurring vision. She had to be sixteen or seventeen. Her black sailor school uniform was partially covered by a hooded cloak. The hood was lowered over her eyes. In the darkness of night, it was almost impossible to make out her features. With darkened eyes, she looked down at Ainz as he sank into a puddle of his own blood. In her left hand was a dagger forged from metal that gave off a sheen that was neither gold nor silver. It had to be an Excalibur. Which meant she was another King. “Good job, Reika Tsukuyomi! You never let me down as my vassal!” Hitoshi clapped gleefully, thrilled. Then he looked at Ainz, whose consciousness was slipping away. “How’s that, Sir Ainz? I’m going to become a hero. Reika decided to become my vassal when she saw my potential, even though she’s a King. And I’ve got the strongest Jack, Sir Tristan… Do you get it now? When you’ve got the makings of a true king, vassals flock to you. That’s what makes me different from you. Ha-ha-ha-ha!” Hitoshi beamed. He seemed so pleased that a kid had won against an adult. “D-damn you…! This must be some mistake…! I can’t believe I…would end up…!” Ainz writhed in a sea of his own blood. But his fate had already been sealed. “Bye-bye, Sir Ainz. Hope you watch over my glorious path to become king from the skies.” “You little…! CURSE YOU!” Ainz spat blood, standing up to get in at least one last blow. “Royal Road…! Command—” Using the last of his life, he tried to pool his mana into his Excalibur. That was when Reika blurred as if disappearing into mist. A white flash flooded the area. Swiftly and soundlessly, Reika’s sword closed in on Ainz as she approached him. Her weapon of choice wasn’t the dagger—her Excalibur—in her left hand. At some point, she had come to hold an ornamental sword with a white blade in her other hand. It skewered the left side of Ainz’s chest. “Gah?! Glarg?! Cough… I—I can’t believe it…!” It neatly snuffed out the last vestiges of Ainz’s life. He stumbled, crumpling like a puppet whose strings had been cut. “L-Lord Ainz…!? T-tell me this isn’t happening…” Sir Bedivere was left stunned, falling to her knees. Eventually, his mana cut off, causing her body to melt into thin air…until nothing was left. “Finally… The geezer was all talk. Not a big deal at all…,” Hitoshi blurted out in what sounded like disappointment. That was his only reaction. Someone had just died, and that was all he could offer. His moral compass seemed out of whack. “I wonder if the other Kings are like this, too. I mean, it’s going to be too easy for me to become the hero and save the world… Welp. Whatever. Our team is unstoppable!” As his group gathered around him, Hitoshi grinned. “Good job, Sir Tristan, Reika. Your king is pleased to see you handled that.” It was their turn to respond. “It’s not like…I care or anything…,” Sir Tristan answered, gaze empty. “…” Reika was silent, coldly casting her eyes on Hitoshi. “All right… Cool. What’s our next move to secure me the position of a true hero and King Arthur…? Elaine? I know you’re here,” Hitoshi called out. “…Yes, my king… I’m here.” …The shadows seemed to coil in the air, oozing out a human figure. It was a girl wearing a black hood and robe. Slivers of supple skin peeked out from the robe. It was obvious that her outfit under it was risqué. A sweet scent wafted from her. The left side of her face was hidden behind lace, but there was enough revealed to know it was bewitching to the point that it sent shivers up a person’s spine. Her beauty burned into the eyes of all who beheld her. No one could resist carnal arousal around her enticing scent. Hitoshi audibly gulped. “Hee-hee. A splendid outcome, my beloved king. You’ve grown into such a kingly figure in such a short time… If I may be so bold, I can’t stop my heart from pounding.” The girl named Elaine smiled at Hitoshi. “Th-thanks to you discovering my potential as king, Elaine.” Hitoshi’s face turned bright red as he grew excited. “Because of you, I was able to awaken my true self as a king… I’m special… Nothing like those idiots and children around me…I’m destined to become a hero…!” “That’s right, Master Hitoshi. You are the chosen one. There’s a clear boundary between you and the average human. Fate brought us together—so I could serve a great king… I’m not fit to receive your guidance and praise.” “Uh, Elaine… M-meeting you was a dream come true…,” Hitoshi managed to say. “Oh, Master Hitoshi… I don’t deserve to hear that…” Elaine continued to smile, enchanting him with her gentle grin. Like perfumed poison, she was thick with guile. “And Reika Tsukuyomi, who you introduced to me, has served me well…,” Hitoshi admitted. “With your potential, gifted vassals will obviously come to you, Master Hitoshi. I can guarantee more will be drawn to you in the future and kneel before you. Please. Keep your head up high,” Elaine waxed lyrically. “R-right… You’re totally right…! Ha-ha-ha!” Hitoshi nodded fervently. “Now, Elaine, tell me. Who should I fight next on my journey to herohood?” “About that… There’s a group you urgently need to squash…” “Who?” “…Luna Artur’s faction…” Her smile turned slightly icy, but…Hitoshi didn’t seem to catch it. “Luna’s group couldn’t be more different from you. She wants the throne for her own selfish reasons… To become the true hero, you must kill them using any means necessary.” “Is Luna really that evil?” “Yes. Have you heard about the incident that obliterated the top floor of the Central City Park Hotel? That’s just one deed carried out by her minions…” “What?!” “One wrong move could have risked the lives of civilians. They cannot be reasoned with… Do you understand, Master Hitoshi…?” “Yeah. No hero would let them off the hook! Luna Artur…I’ll defeat your team!” Hitoshi seemed to have made up his mind. Elaine continued to grin…though her smile had clouded over, as if it lurked in the shadows. “…I have great expectations for you…my beloved king…” She hadn’t weaponized magic to manipulate him. She had just exploited his dark desires that prowled in human hearts: greed, vanity, rebellion. It came as naturally to Elaine as breathing. She was Morgan le Fay—the witch spoken of in legends. Someone watched Hitoshi and Morgan’s exchange from a distance. “Looks like it went well, Reika…my King.” Reika Tsukuyomi spun around when she was addressed from behind, meeting eyes with a Jack in battered armor and a surcoat. A middle-aged knight with sullen features. He had a playful charm to him, though he could have easily blended into a group of businessmen on the last train home. If he’d been born in a different generation, a can of coffee and a cigarette would have completed his look. “You seem dissatisfied,” observed the Jack. “Does getting manipulated by a witch leave a bad taste in your mouth?” “Of course not, Sir Dinadan. This is what I asked for,” Reika replied, chuckling stiffly from under her hood. Sir Dinadan was not part of the numbered seats of the Round Table. In any normal circumstance, a King would summon a Jack from the numbered positions, excluding King Arthur—the first seat—and the cursed thirteenth seat. That shrank their options to the second to twelfth seats… In other words, they could select from the eleven knights chosen to sit in the highest positions at the Round Table. Sir Dinadan was a member of the knights of the Round Table, but…he hadn’t been chosen for the table himself. He was just a normal knight. A dime a dozen. According to the rules of the King Arthur Succession Battle, it was strange to summon Sir Dinadan as a Jack… But Reika acted like this situation was the most natural thing in the world. “There’s something I must do,” she continued. “I need to lie low right now. I’m used to this.” “Ah… Right.” Sir Dinadan sighed. “You never change. I…wish you didn’t have to do this… Like, maybe you should loosen the tension in your shoulders and enjoy life?” “None of your business. You’re supposed to be my Jack. I wish you’d be more cooperative. At least participate in battle…” Reika trailed off, shooting daggers at Sir Dinadan. She suddenly peeled her eyes off him as though her attention had been redirected elsewhere. “…Or is it that you don’t want to help me?” “Uh-uh! You’re totally off base,” Sir Dinadan replied in a joking way. “It’s just that I’m not very strong, if I’m being honest. I’d hold Tristie back. And I’m not good at surprise attacks like you are. Ha-ha-ha. But I guess I was great at singing and getting people to laugh!” “…Right… I guess you were…” Reika became quiet. “Ha-ha-ha, but don’t worry, Reika.” With a hoot of laughter, he slapped her shoulder as she wore a sullen expression. “You might not believe in me, but I was thrilled when you summoned me!” “…” “I think I was brought here…to see what you would do in this world… I’m sure I’m here to see it with my own eyes.” For some reason, he made deep eye contact with her. Though he was joking, his gaze seemed pensive. When he looked at Reika, Sir Dinadan was like a father watching over his daughter. That night, plans began to kick off all at once.
Chapter 36
29 min read