Chapter 24

The fact that Harold could make such a decision without much hesitation suggested that the rumors of him becoming a "battle maniac" weren't entirely baseless.

One of the most notable changes was that his resistance to the act of fighting had thinned considerably, even when the risk was low. It was the result of a cold calculation: if he didn’t adapt this way, he wouldn’t survive.

"By the way, are you feeling alright? I heard you faced a massive Hornhead on this last expedition."

"Not this again."

Harold sounded profoundly fed up. It seemed he was asked the same question every time they crossed paths after a subjugation mission.

From the perspective of Tasuku—and by extension, the House Sumeragi—they still remembered the time Harold had arrived at their doorstep unannounced, only to be found suffering from a grievous wound. Even though they knew how strong he was, they couldn't help but be anxious. It certainly didn't help that Harold was the type of person to dismiss a serious injury as "just a scratch."

Erika, in particular, maintained a composed front. "It was a choice Lord Harold made for himself," she would say, appearing to respect his autonomy without showing excessive worry. However, the fact that she had taken up the study of healing magic that very day betrayed her true state of mind: she simply couldn't stand by and do nothing.

By the time Erika’s healing magic had begun to show real promise, Harold had stopped getting injured altogether. Her powers had yet to actually mend a single one of his wounds. Nevertheless, her devotion—never neglecting her daily training to sharpen the efficacy of her spells—was the real deal. Harold, naturally, remained oblivious to this.

"Do you honestly think I’d lose to some oversized piece of trash? Think before you speak."

"It’s impressive enough that you can say that at your age, Harold-kun."

"Your son is much the same."

Itsuki, who had recently turned sixteen, was likely capable of taking down a Hornhead on his own without much trouble. He was the only person in their age group whose strength truly rivaled Harold’s.

The sentiment was mutual. Perhaps that was why the two of them had formed a bond where they frequently crossed blades to test one another’s growth.

In the original story, Itsuki was merely referred to as "the brother," never even granted a name, yet here he was, possessing such formidable strength. It occurred to Harold that there were likely many other powerful foes he didn't know about yet, just like Itsuki.

Realizing at this stage that his "game knowledge" could actually be a double-edged sword was a significant gain.

Thinking of it that way, Harold felt that deepening his ties with the Sumeragi family, despite the risks, had been the right move.

Meanwhile, his relationship with Erika—his greatest concern—had seen almost no progress in three years. He had been conspicuous about keeping his distance, limiting their conversations to the absolute bare minimum. There hadn't been a single event even remotely appropriate for a betrothed couple.

(Asking me to trigger flags under these conditions is a tall order, honestly.)

It was going so perfectly that he almost let a smug chuckle slip.

While the spread of the miasma in the Sumeragi territory remained a precarious situation, it was a problem the protagonists were meant to solve, so he couldn't personally interfere. Even so, the situation was undoubtedly better than in the original story thanks to the trial implementation of the resistance medicine and the LP Farming Method.

Still, complacency was his greatest enemy. Looking ahead, the list of problems was a mile long. Harold renewed his resolve to spend the five years remaining until the start of the original story hunting down every possible death flag before it could even sprout.

◇

On a stone platform roughly twenty meters square, two figures were locked in a fierce exchange of blows.

One was a young man in the midst of his transition into adulthood, standing nearly 180 centimeters tall with brownish-black hair. His face, which usually radiated the kindness of a well-bred youth, was now set in a grim mask of concentration.

Opposing him was a boy about a head shorter, standing roughly 160 centimeters tall, with striking, deep crimson eyes. His jet-black hair, even darker than the young man's, whipped about as he moved with violent speed. Yet, in contrast to his frantic movements, his gaze remained sharp and clinical as he parried every strike.

As close friends, they often sparred like this whenever they met to gauge each other's progress.

"Huff... huff... Yeah, you'll be more than fine for the tournament with this."

Itsuki stepped out of striking distance and lowered his sword, regulating his breathing.

"I don't need your concern."

"Regarding your skill, certainly. I'm just glad you haven't forgotten how to handle a practice sword."

"Don't mock me. I'm not so fragile that this weight bothers me."

"I was more worried about your inability to hold back, actually."

Itsuki’s private assessment was that very few participants in their age group would be able to even withstand Harold’s blade. If anything, his concern was for the safety of Harold's future opponents. It seemed, however, that his worries about Harold’s precision were unfounded.

"Well, let's call it a day. We're scheduled to depart tomorrow morning."

(Another carriage ride, huh... Well, Delphit is close, so it can't be helped, but I really want to try riding an airship.)

The airship was a wooden flying vessel that appeared in the game. Unlike sea-faring ships, they featured wings on both sides of the hull and propellers at the masts and stern. It was a vehicle that leaned heavily into fantasy aesthetics; how such a shape achieved stable flight was a complete mystery.

Then again, since they were powered by "Crystals"—minerals dropped by defeated monsters—science and physics likely didn't apply. Incidentally, those crystals were incredibly useful for synthesizing and strengthening equipment.

"Oh, right. Do you want to change the name you're using for registration? The participants are mostly commoners; your parents might not approve of you appearing in such a venue."

"Who knows? They might actually be thrilled that I 'thrashed the inferior species.'"

Either way, their reaction wouldn't be normal. If he used a pseudonym to hide his identity, it would save him the headache even if news of the winner's name reached his parents.

"A fake name is fine. Just pick something random."

"I'll think of something on the way, then."

And so, Harold was destined to stand on the tournament stage under the name "Mr. Lord"—a pseudonym so questionable it would make anyone doubt Itsuki’s sense of naming.

Harold had no way of knowing what the future held, but his trials weren't over yet.

After several days of travel, they finally arrived in Delphit. On that very night, they checked into their inn. When Harold went down to the attached restaurant with Itsuki to grab dinner, he found Erika sitting there.

His entire body stiffened instinctively.

"Sorry, Erika. We're a bit late."

Ignoring Harold's frozen state, Itsuki took a seat at the table with Erika. Harold glared at them both, demanding an explanation, but Erika beat him to the punch, directing her grievance at her brother.

"Brother, I was under the impression we were dining alone?"

"That’s right. I did indeed ask you, 'How about the two of us have a meal for a change?'"

"...I see."

Erika muttered in exasperation as she realized Itsuki's trick. In short, Itsuki had invited her with the implication of "the two of us (plus Harold-kun)," intentionally omitting the parenthetical to lead her astray.

"If my being here is a nuisance, I can leave?"

"Stay here," Harold barked, just as Erika said, "Please stay."

Their voices overlapped perfectly.

If Itsuki left now, Harold would be forced to eat dinner alone with Erika. To him, that was a literal hell.

As for Erika, while she didn't dislike the idea of dining with him, her desire not to be a burden was stronger, knowing full well that Harold was trying to keep her at arm's length. However, it would be the height of rudeness to see his face and immediately get up to leave—even if the seating arrangement had been engineered by a trap.

Itsuki, perhaps having calculated his sister's personality to a tee, wore a smug expression that said he'd won.

"...Why is she even in Delphit?"

"There's a risk of injury in a fighting tournament, so I thought it wise to bring someone capable of healing magic. As it happened, the other family members were unavailable, so I was forced to ask Erika to come along."

Harold found it highly doubtful that this was "just a coincidence." Given that Erika—who had also been tricked—didn't argue, it might have been technically true, but Harold remained unconvinced. The whole situation felt far too deliberate.

"I won't be getting injured."

"There's a proverb about being prepared. That's why Erika agreed to come."

"I recall our agreement was that I would not have more contact with Lord Harold than necessary," Erika added.

"I simply judged that an initial meeting was required. That way, we can coordinate smoothly if something happens, right?"

When put that way, the logic was sound enough that Harold couldn't complain.

Ultimately, he was swept along by Itsuki's pace, and the three of them shared a table. It went without saying that no conversation occurred between Harold and Erika. If Itsuki hadn't acted as a bridge, the silence would have been absolute.

This "ordeal" for Harold lasted over an hour.

By the time dinner concluded, Harold’s mental fatigue had hit its peak. He stood up with somewhat unsteady steps and retreated to his room.

Erika watched his retreating back with a pang of guilt.

She wanted to give Itsuki a piece of her mind, but as if sensing the impending lecture, her brother had disappeared alongside Harold.

While she was happy to spend time with Harold for the first time in a while, the feeling that she had troubled him weighed more heavily on her heart. From the beginning, she had intended to stay out of sight during the tournament unless Harold actually got hurt.

And yet, it had come to this.

She decided she would have to give Itsuki a stern warning when she found the time. She headed back to her own room; though they were in the same inn, they were on different floors—a small consideration to ensure they wouldn't accidentally run into each other.

When she opened her door, Yuno was there to greet her with her usual airy demeanor.

"Welcome back, Lady Erika~. You look quite exhausted~."

"You were watching, weren't you?"

"I am technically your guard, after all~. Though, both Lord Itsuki and Lord Harold are stronger than me, so I do wonder if there’s any point~."

Erika understood Yuno’s sentiment. She saw those two spar often, but lately, their movements had become so fast she could no longer follow what was happening. Harold, in particular, moved with a speed that made her wonder if he was actually teleporting. That Itsuki could keep up with him was equally extraordinary.

"By the way, did you mention Lady Colette~?"

Yuno brought up the name of the girl they had coincidentally met earlier that day.

Colette Amereel.

The girl who was officially supposed to be dead along with her mother was, for some reason, here in Delphit. Considering the timing, she was likely here to see the tournament.

"No, I’ve kept it hidden."

"So you really can't tell him~?"

"No. We aren't supposed to know she survived."

If Harold realized the Sumeragi family knew Colette and Clara were alive, it would spark unnecessary suspicion. Harold had protected that mother and daughter even at the cost of his own reputation. Erika refused to trample on those feelings. She had no intention of prying into that secret until the day Harold chose to reveal it himself.

And yet, she couldn't bring herself to say nothing at all. That was why she had told the girl that if they met again, she wanted to be friends.

Erika had felt something when she looked at Colette. She suspected that the girl might also be someone capable of being an ally to Harold. Colette surely knew of the kindness hidden behind Harold’s precarious strength, for she had been saved by it and was still being protected by it today.

If they were to reunite, it would likely be when Harold finally shared his secret. At that time, Erika truly hoped to become her friend. She was certain they would get along well.

"I’m going to sleep now. Yuno, you should return to your room."

"As you wish~. Good night, Lady Erika~."

"Good night."

Once Yuno left, Erika changed into her nightgown, turned off the lights, and slipped into bed. The unfamiliar sensation of the springs was a stark contrast to her usual futon. Compared to the beds at the Stokes mansion, this one wasn't particularly comfortable.

As she struggled to drift off, her thoughts returned to what she had been contemplating earlier.

If she reunited with Colette and they became friends, there was a chance the girl might fall for Harold, just as she had. She held the title of "fiancée," but it was a hollow, provisional thing. She knew Harold intended to break it off. If that happened, Colette might become a rival in love.

A normal person might feel jealous. Yet, Erika found her heart strangely at peace. It wasn't because she thought she had an advantage. She simply felt that Colette becoming a rival might be a good thing.

In the past few years, Erika had come to accept her own feelings for Harold. If possible, she hoped her first love would bear fruit. But for Erika, those romantic feelings weren't the most important thing. What she desired above all else was the happiness of the person she loved.

If Harold chose someone else, then so be it.

She would surely cry if her heart was broken; her love for him was real. Even so, if Harold were to marry Colette or anyone else, she wanted to be able to offer her heartfelt blessings with a genuine smile. This was Erika's true, unvarnished wish.

Becoming his wife wasn't the only way to support him.

(That is why I look forward to our reunion.)

Bathed in the moonlight streaming through the window, she smiled peacefully at her future friend.

The brilliant silver light reminded her of Colette’s vivid blonde hair. With those thoughts in mind, Erika closed her eyes and fell into a deep sleep.