Chapter 128 : Chapter 128

Chapter 128: Carving Intent

* * *

The previous night, the banquet for high-ranking nobles held at the Conwell manor was as vibrant and splendid as the festival of Conwell’s citizens.

Conwell City, VIP Residence.

The fervor of last night had vanished like a lie.

The corridor, finished entirely in marble, was steeped in silence.

Morning sunlight streamed through the windows, languidly wavering.

Step, step.

A maid sitting in front of Chief Attendant Ternien’s bedroom, dozing off, jolted awake.

The sound of footsteps grew louder from the far end of the corridor, approaching closer, accompanied by faint voices.

“The reason Duchess Conwell didn’t attend yesterday—was it really because of illness?”

“Yes. Since the civil war, she’s barely had a proper night’s sleep. It seems she’s finally relaxed a bit. It must’ve been overwhelming in many ways, especially at her young age.”

“Hmm. For relieving a lady’s fatigue, nothing works better than my club. What a pity.”

“Hah, keep your voice down. That’s quite a jest.”

“Who’s going to hear? Everyone’s passed out, snoring loud enough to shake the walls.”

The maid’s face flushed hot as she kept her head bowed.

The footsteps quickly drew nearer.

She was debating whether to pretend to doze again.

“Eek!”

The moment a pair of shoe tips entered her view, the maid shot to her feet.

“Ahem, why so startled?”

“S-Sorry…”

“Enough. Is the Chief Attendant inside?”

“Y-Yes!”

“Tell her the Civil Affairs Officer and the Administrative Officer are here.”

The two officials adjusted their attire.

They rubbed sleep from their eyes, checked their breath by blowing into their palms, all while their expressions dripped with boredom.

Meanwhile, the maid fidgeted, unable to settle.

The Civil Affairs Officer, growing impatient, frowned.

“What are you standing there for?”

“W-Well…”

“Well, what? Speak clearly.”

The maid shrank her shoulders and raised a hand to her mouth.

The two nobles leaned in, urging her to speak.

“Um, inside… the Knight Commander is with her.”

The officials’ faces crumpled instantly.

They exchanged a glance, their eyes carrying a strange glint.

The Civil Affairs Officer let out a forced cough and stepped back, while the younger

The Administrative Officer, with a reluctant expression, asked, “Both of them together… since last night?”

“…Yes.”

The maid answered with her head bowed like a criminal, and the two nobles sighed in unison.

“Ha, really. Can’t they control their urges even here…”

“Ugh, what an embarrassment to the Imperial Capital. Tch—”

The scandal between Chief Attendant Ternien and Knight Commander Ludsilla was well-known among the Imperial Capital’s officials.

The two women, by age alone, could be mother and daughter.

The Civil Affairs Officer, openly showing his displeasure, whispered to the maid.

“You should at least go in and stop them. Have some sense. What if nobles from other domains catch wind of this? Imagine the rumors—that the King’s Chief Attendant and the Imperial Capital’s Knight Commander are in that kind of relationship. Just thinking about it makes me shudder.”

“Y-Yes, I understand…”

“We’ll come back in an hour. Damn it, this is nauseating.”

The maid watched the two men’s retreating backs until they were gone, then slowly knocked on the bedroom door.

Knock, knock, knock—

Inside the room across the door.

Ludsilla, pressing her ear to the door, let out a silent sigh.

“They’re gone now.”

Only then did Ternien, as if relieved, let her shoulders slump.

She sat upright at a table in the center of the bedroom.

“You’ve gone through a lot, Commander.”

“A lot? No, not at all.”

Their expressions contrasted.

Ludsilla, seeing Ternien’s gloom, deliberately put on a brighter face.

“It’s the only way, isn’t it? To avoid Zisair’s eyes.”

“….”

“Don’t worry. For the sake of the imperial family’s safety and peace, I’ll gladly bear any disgrace. That’s the fate of the Lenafel Family.”

As she brought the teacup to her lips, her hand trembled faintly.

Seeing this, Ternien closed her eyes tightly.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was doing something despicable.

Ha…

The former Knight Commander—Ludsilla’s father—had been a close friend.

His death was one of the decisive reasons Ternien began to suspect Zisair.

When we meet again, curse me then. For now… I’m sorry.

Ternien opened her eyes.

Those who walk with the imperial family on their backs must set aside personal emotions.

“In the end, we didn’t get to meet Bihen Benkou again.”

“Yes. It felt like all of Conwell’s officials were actively shielding him.”

“That’s a shame. Using that day’s incident as an excuse for a one-on-one duel would’ve been the most natural approach. Especially since you went to great lengths to make that decision, Commander.”

“D-Ddecision is a bit much… Yes, you’re right. Facing Bihen Benkou does require some courage.”

After Orlen and Cecil’s sacrifice, Ternien had completely revised her plans.

Secret contact only provided assassins with a favorable environment.

It was better to confront Bihen Benkou openly.

“I was too careless. I didn’t realize even meeting him would be this difficult.”

Ternien bit her lower lip.

Just a few years ago, the Imperial Household Agency wasn’t this powerless.

Once called the heart of the imperial family, it moved like a shadow, grasping the King’s intentions first.

Now, with Zisair having severed its limbs, the agency was a hollow shell.

This time, Ludsilla spoke.

“What about Duke Conwell? Did you give her any hints?”

“Yesterday was our chance, but as you know…”

“Ah.”

Both women lowered their heads simultaneously.

Coming to another domain—especially a powerful one like Conwell—under the guise of a delegation was a rare opportunity. Once they returned, they’d be back in Zisair’s clutches.

“I can only hope that loyal Orlen and Cecil fulfilled their mission… and that their will reached Bihen Benkou and, through him, Duke Conwell.”

Both women let out a faint sigh at the same time.

Conwell’s morning sunlight was cruelly bright.

* * *

“So that’s what’s been happening in the Imperial Capital.”

Adeline’s office.

Roland, sunk deep into the sofa, was slowly slumping as if sliding down.

His responses came out halfheartedly.

“Are you feeling unwell?”

Adeline, seated at the head, asked cautiously. Jayden, who had been listening tensely, also looked up at Roland.

“Unwell, you say?”

“Yes.”

“Is that even a question?”

Adeline glanced at Jayden, as if asking for an explanation.

Jayden hesitated before speaking.

“The Governor… drank too much yesterday.”

“Ugh… This guy, honestly. Why do people turn so dense the moment they sit in that seat? Cutting me off like that—what am I supposed to do? You should’ve explained that I ended up like this because I had to handle everything after His Grace left the banquet.”

“My apologies.”

Adeline nodded, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly.

“I’ll cure that hangover in one shot.”

“Huh? Is there such a thing?”

“I’m thinking of heading to the Imperial Capital.”

Roland’s head snapped back, his eyelids trembling, showing the whites of his eyes.

Jayden swallowed hard.

“Y-Your Grace, but leaving for so long right now…!”

“I won’t leave immediately. There are things to wrap up first.”

Adeline looked at Roland, her eyes gleaming with confidence.

“The time has come to fulfill our long-held dream, Teacher.”

“Please, stop with the ‘Teacher’…!”

It was a decision Adeline had reached after much deliberation. Conwell’s diplomacy was stronger and more stable than ever.

The civil war had clearly distinguished allies from threats.

“Jayden, within two months, purge all of Callence’s remaining forces, inside and out.”

“Leave it to me.”

“I’ll entrust internal affairs to you, Teacher.”

“….”

Roland’s fading focus snapped back sharply.

“Do you have a plan?”

“A plan?”

“To check the Prime Minister, as they said, you need a political foundation. A flimsy alliance won’t do. At the very least, you’d need a blood pact to have any standing in the Imperial Capital.”

“Hm, you’re right.”

Roland’s sigh deepened.

“My head’s already spinning, Your Grace. Are you just going to barge into another lord’s mansion and say what? You need some kind of justification.”

Jayden also looked at Adeline with concern.

Roland’s words weren’t wrong.

“Of course.”

Adeline’s lips curled.

“I have one. It’s hard to say now, but I do.”

* * *

“Say that again, Bihen…! I didn’t mishear, did I?”

This was Canchester’s blacksmith street, in front of Gaff’s forge.

“By land.”

I answered indifferently, roughly counting the people in line ahead of me.

Today was the day to pick up my new sword from Gaff.

Last time, Henry made things easy, but this time, I decided to wait in line properly.

With Henry gone, I couldn’t shamelessly demand special treatment.

I’m a man with some sense of shame.

“No, no! Before that! The reason we have to go by land—say it again.”

“I got bored remembering the ship ride here.”

“No! The next part!”

“As part of my training.”

“Not that! The next one!”

“…Spreading Solari’s teachings along the way doesn’t sound bad.”

Bolero slapped his scalp with both palms, the sound ringing out.

He looked ready to drop to his knees and pray in awe.

“Oh, heavens. Elzerus, are you watching? Finally, your…”

“Enough already. Didn’t you say Solari forbids missionary work?”

“Solari’s doctrine can be interpreted flexibly depending on the situation. It’s adaptable.”

Bolero stroked his mustache and nodded.

I hid the smile creeping onto my face.

In truth, “Solari’s missionary work” had two meanings.

One was an excuse to bring Bolero along.

His experience traveling the Kingdom for Solari activities meant he was well-versed in information and would be useful for my training journey to the Imperial Capital.

The other was…

To help Adeline build her “coalition.”

I judged that her growing influence would ultimately benefit me too.

The Eight Demons might be too much for me to handle alone.

More importantly, traveling by land increased the chances of encountering the Eight Demons lurking in various regions.

“Um, excuse me…”

A kid approached, standing on tiptoes to whisper.

I leaned down to offer my ear.

“Are you… Bihen Benkou?”

He pointed toward Gaff’s forge.

It seemed Gaff had sent him.

I told Bolero to wait and followed the kid quietly, keeping my expression neutral.

Inside the forge, Gaff appeared.

His sweat-streaked face bore a bright smile, and I felt a wave of relief.

The results must be good.

“Gaff.”

“It’s been a while, sir. No need to drag this out—come this way.”

I followed him deeper into the forge.

I hadn’t realized there was a workshop in the basement.

The spacious underground was filled with roaring furnaces, soot-stained stone walls, the clang of hammers, and the smell of iron. As the sweltering air enveloped me…

A white cloth covering a workbench caught my eye.

An instinctive pull, perhaps.

My heart began to beat slowly.

Whoosh—

When Gaff lifted the cloth, a clear light cut through the workshop’s heavy air in an instant.

“Ah…”

A gasp of awe slipped out.

To put it bluntly… It was beautiful.

“Try holding it.”

Gaff lifted the hilt and offered it to me.

The handle, carefully wrapped in calfskin, fit perfectly in my hand.

The balance was flawless.

Ting—

A flick of my finger on the blade produced a clear, resonant sound.

The elegant curve resembled an imperial sword, but the tip was sharp and straight, like a Kingdom rapier.

The form of the Empire, the structure of the Kingdom.

The two worlds’ styles were intricately interwoven.

“…It’s magnificent.”

Gaff laughed heartily, as if he’d received a grand award.

“Haha! It’s no exaggeration to say this sword embodies the essence of Canchester—no, the Kingdom’s blacksmithing.”

I nodded.

“It’s worthy of being called a divine sword.”

“A divine sword… Hearing such praise from a swordsman like you feels like I’ve accomplished a life’s work. Have you decided on a name?”

“A name?”

“In the Kingdom, it’s customary for the wielder to name the sword in front of the craftsman. It’s a

way to share and carve the intent—what you’ll fight for, what you’ll protect.”

“…That’s nice.”

Why didn’t I know this in my past life?

That the Kingdom had such a splendid tradition, from the intent of the sword to the naming custom.

At my waist, Blood Lion was sheathed.

The intent of Blood Lion was “the heart to protect all within the reach of one’s strength.”

If so, this divine sword could be a bit fiercer, more savage. After all, its ultimate foe would be none other than the Eight Demons.

I slowly raised the sword.

The aura enveloping the blade was chillingly sharp.

This wasn’t a sword meant to save anyone.

Thus, your name shall be, “Heavenly Demon.”

The sovereign of all evils, meant to annihilate them.

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