Chapter 44

A magic spell cast by a knight—a comrade—struck home. Or so it was meant to seem as Harold leaped backward and vanished into the shadows.

From the other side of the clearing, a voice cried out, “Did we get him?!” It was the quintessential flag signaling that they had, in fact, not gotten him.

Harold felt a sudden, idiomatic impulse to reappear and jeer, “Hmph, is that the best you can do?” but he had no time for such theatrics.

“Useless laggards. Are you still not finished?”

As he steadied his ragged breathing, the usual stream of abuse slipped from his lips. He had deflected the previous volley with R Guard, but he wasn’t entirely unscathed. This was, after all, his fourth encounter.

Since he was having the six black-clad men under his command focus on capturing the Imperial soldiers, Harold was forced to handle squads of fifteen men entirely on his own.

The Knight Order was formidable. In a one-on-one duel, he was confident he could win a hundred times out of a hundred. However, each individual knight was stronger than the likes of Robinson, and their coordination in both offense and defense was highly refined. Had he not undergone rigorous training for multi-opponent combat with the Cody Squad and his roommates, he might have been overwhelmed already.

The outcome would likely have been different if he were allowed to counterattack, but for now, Harold was strictly adhering to evasion and defense. Under those constraints, escaping without a scratch was a tall order.

“Lord Harold, the capture of the targets is complete.”

The report he had been waiting for finally arrived. He noticed several injuries on the black-clad men from the succession of battles. Seeing their state, he swallowed the words “About time” before they could escape. They were all doing their absolute best; taking his frustration out on them would be a gross misplacement of anger.

“...We’re retreating immediately.”

Next came the time for the interrogation of the captured soldiers—a task that was not enjoyable in the slightest.

Though it was called an interrogation, Harold didn't possess any specialized negotiation techniques, nor did he resort to torture. He simply leveraged his knowledge of the Original Story, acting as though he had already extracted intel from other soldiers, and then intimidated the current captive into providing further details.

Because there wasn't enough time to question every prisoner, he chose them at random. With this bluffing method, five out of nine had already talked. They likely assumed their comrades had already betrayed the cause. Once a traitor exists, the psychological hurdle for others to follow suit drops significantly—especially when lives are on the line.

To be honest, most of the information they “confessed” was already known to him, so it didn't particularly matter. The fact that they had testified was more important than the content of the testimony. If he could put these Sarian soldiers on a witness stand, the persecution of the Stella Clan could be averted. His ultimate goal was to use those testimonies to delay Justus’s plan, if only by a fraction.

However, as Harold planned his next move, dire news arrived. A black-clad messenger sprinted through the underbrush, breathless.

“Emergency! We have confirmed enemy reinforcements. Two hundred troops have begun an assault on the Stella Clan village!”

“Dammit! What is the status of the battle there?!”

Suppressing the urge to foully curse the Imperial Army for their loathsome maneuvers, Harold demanded a situation report as calmly as he could manage.

There were eleven black-clad operatives at the village, including Yuno. He had instructed them to support the Stella Clan, who were presumably fighting back against the Sarian soldiers.

“They’re holding their ground for now, but they won’t last much longer! We believe there is a General-level officer among the reinforcements!”

That made sense. In terms of numbers, his deployment was meant to buy time until his arrival, not to achieve a total victory. Since they were already operating on a razor-thin margin, there was no way they could hold out against two hundred fresh troops.

Furthermore, if a Division Commander—an officer with the rank of Lieutenant General or Major General—was personally involved, there was a possibility that the village had been the true objective from the start. Why else would a mere company-sized operation be led by such high-ranking brass?

Is this also part of Justus’s design? An ominous premonition welled up inside him.

While the possibility was high, he didn't have the luxury of overthinking it.

“You, lead me there. The rest of you, maintain enough distance to avoid being caught and lure the detached unit of knights toward the front line.”

Even with the reinforcements, the knights only numbered a little over a hundred. If some were incapacitated, their effective strength was likely even lower. Harold had hoped to eliminate the Sarian soldiers covertly, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. If he miscalculated now, Yuno and the others would be slaughtered.

In the worst-case scenario, he would have to call upon the support unit led by Robinson.

Frustration at his own lack of foresight, anger at the shifting tides, and the sheer desperation of the unexpected development—Harold converted every one of those emotions into raw power as he kicked off the ground and surged forward.

Yuno had wondered about one thing for a very long time.

It went back three years, to the moment Erika had first glimpsed the truth behind Harold’s feelings. Had Harold really failed to notice Erika lurking in that room?

Yuno found it impossible to believe that Harold, who had sensed her presence when she was merely eavesdropping on his training, would overlook Erika in the same room. Just the other day, he had easily seen through their concealment in the dead of twilight.

There was no way he hadn't noticed. Furthermore, if the subject was something he wanted to keep secret from Erika, he would normally have been far more guarded. Thus, Yuno had come to believe that Harold had intentionally allowed the information to leak.

However, she could never decipher his true intentions, which had only served to deepen her suspicion of him. Looking back now, she wondered if his goal from the beginning had been to plant those seeds of doubt within her.

Because of that suspicion, Yuno had remained hyper-vigilant of his actions. It was why she had ended up eavesdropping on his recent conversation with Tasuku. Though, in all likelihood, Harold had realized she was there for that as well.

It was then she had heard the term “Stella Clan.” It was a name with the power to shake her to her core.

Suddenly, Harold’s suspicious words and actions over the years connected into a single, coherent line. He might have known about Yuno’s birth, and her past—the half of her life where she was abandoned, unable to even live as a human being.

This was Harold Stokes, a man who defied common sense. Yuno wouldn't be surprised if he knew everything. But if he had known the truth and still led her here...

(Perhaps I should be grateful...)

Yuno could now say with pride that she was happy. If she hadn't been saved by House Sumeragi, she wouldn't even be alive today. But she harbored one singular, crushing regret from her former life.

Even if it had no personal value to her, even if it was just a job, she had once located the Stella Clan’s hidden dwelling and sold them out without hesitation to humans who intended to prey on them. That remained a stain upon her soul.

The result was the destruction of that hidden village. In exchange, Yuno had received a pittance of a reward and more missions. She later heard that many of the dead were children even younger than she was at the time.

Yuno had no intention of denying it if she were called the lowest of humans. She was fully aware of the magnitude of her sins. Since joining the Sumeragi household, she spent every spare moment visiting orphanages and providing support to the children there. It was her own selfish way of seeking atonement.

Yet, the guilt never vanished. She believed she would have to carry it for the rest of her life—the inescapable karma of a filthy beast who sold her own kind.

But then came this incident: the Knight Order’s plan, the assault on the Stella Clan, and Harold’s plot to stop it. If she hadn't been suspicious of him, she never would have known. And she certainly couldn't have ignored it.

She had pleaded with Tasuku, refusing to take no for an answer until she was permitted to join the task force. Erika, who understood Yuno’s past, had sensed her feelings and sent her off despite the danger.

“Please, come back for sure.”

Those words from Erika had made her happier than anything else in the world. She finally felt, for the first time, that she had a place where she belonged.

(Those two might be more similar than they realize...)

The thought drifted through her hazy, unsteady mind.

Erika, who urged her to return alive. Harold, who told her not to go dying on her own.

She felt a profound sense of apology that she might not be able to keep her promise to either of them. Erika would surely cry. Harold’s reaction was harder to predict, but he would likely spit out some sarcasm. In a sense, that would be the only appropriate reaction.

She couldn't shake the feeling that Harold had grasped the signs of this attack three years ago, perhaps from the very moment he let those seeds of suspicion sprout in her. Yuno herself was likely one of the pieces he had moved into place for this very moment.

If so, she had to fulfill her role until the end. That was the only way to atone for her past.

Rallying her spirit, she put every ounce of strength into her limbs to remain standing and glared at her opponent. Even so, her left arm refused to move.

“What is with those rebellious eyes? It seems you don't comprehend your situation.”

The man before her was a giant, clad in magnificent armor decorated with gold and jewels ill-suited for a muddy battlefield. He was flanked by his subordinates.

Facing them were only Yuno and one other black-clad man. Their other comrades had already been struck down. The situation was beyond desperate.

The large man cracked his neck as he approached, drawing a massive greatsword from the sheath on his back.

“A dying wretch like you isn't even worth the mana for my magic. I care not who sent you—stop this futile resistance and die already.”

The man, frustrated that his preferred magical attacks had been repeatedly fended off, switched to a simpler, more lethal physical strike. If that blade connected, Yuno wouldn't stand a chance. She wouldn't even be a corpse; she would be a crushed, tattered heap of meat.

“...I’m afraid I can’t do that. Resisting until the very end... is my mission.”

“Foolish girl. Then return to the dust.”

The greatsword swung down with bone-crushing force.

However, the blow never reached Yuno’s body. In an instant, a figure moved with a speed that defied the eye, interposing himself between Yuno and the massive blade.

Yuno stared, unable to immediately process the fact that she had been saved. Dazed, she whispered the name of the man standing before her.

“Lord... Harold...”

The timing was nothing short of miraculous. The sight of him acting as a shield for the weak was the very image of a hero.