Chapter 65

After Harold’s departure, a heavy, awkward silence lingered in the great hall. Despite his flagrant discourtesy, his sheer intensity had been so overwhelming that no one even thought to rebuke him.

Amidst the tension, Erika recalled the look she had seen in Harold’s eyes. It was a hue of deep, profound despair.

She thought of the words Harold had almost spoken. Given his true nature and his behavior up until now, the conclusion of that sentence followed naturally.

—I have no need for a fiancée.

That was likely what he had been on the verge of saying.

While she couldn't discern the exact reason for his hesitation, she sensed that the despair reflected in his eyes was somehow connected to it.

"I am truly sorry. Please, accept my apologies for his rudeness," Itsuki said, offering a deep bow to the Berlioz couple.

Aurelian and Bridget assured him there was no need for concern.

"Oh, it’s quite alright," Bridget said. "It was my husband who spoke so insensitively. If anything, Aurelian is the one who should apologize."

"Mmu... indeed, I failed to consider Lord’s feelings. Tell me, does he perhaps already have a partner chosen for him?" Aurelian asked.

"That is..."

Itsuki glanced sideways at Erika, hesitating. From that small gesture, Aurelian seemed to deduce a possibility.

"Could it be Erika? If so, I must apologize to you as well."

Given Itsuki’s reaction, it was a natural conclusion to reach. They were aware of the incident five years ago, where a boy named Harold had demanded an end to his engagement with Erika.

However, that was merely a story to them; they didn't realize the young man who had just stood before them was the very same person. Thus, they had concluded that "Lord" might be her new suitor.

It was a conclusion that was both right and wrong. And the answer Harold desired was the latter.

"Please, do not let it trouble you," Erika said. "Lord Harold and I share no such bond."

She ignored the sorrowful look that crossed Itsuki's face. Even so, Erika felt a sharp pang in her chest.

"Then does he have someone else?"

"...I haven't heard of anyone," Itsuki replied. "I’ve known Lord for a long time, but he rarely speaks about himself."

It was true; Harold was an enigma. Erika and Itsuki were well aware of the foul rumors surrounding him, but neither believed a word of them.

He was often misunderstood because of his sharp tongue and abrasive actions—or rather, he intentionally invited those misunderstandings.

He had accepted the stigma of a murderer to save a mother and child; he had played the villain so Erika could break their engagement without guilt; and he had risked his life against overwhelming odds to save the knights and the Stella Clan. This current life of isolation was the result.

It was a cruelly unfair existence. Even though he possessed the means to prove his innocence, he chose not to, stoically accepting the consequences of his silence.

"A mysterious man, indeed," Bridget mused.

"You could say that," Itsuki added. "But he is not a bad man. He is someone who will stand up for others—someone who fights to protect people."

"A true warrior! I certainly hope to have a formal match with him next time."

"With only half-hearted skill, you won't even be able to stand before him, Aurelian. Even I..."

As Aurelian grew excited once more, Itsuki began sharing stories of his many spars with Harold. The catalyst worked, and the awkward atmosphere finally dissipated.

Yet, a lingering sense of unease remained in Erika's heart.

That look of despair... she had never seen Harold look that way before.

For a fleeting second, she had almost envisioned him collapsing under the weight of his own destiny. It was likely just her imagination—perhaps she was simply worrying too much.

However, Erika knew that Harold possessed human weaknesses alongside his strength. He was strong precisely because he fought those inner frailties and trampled them underfoot.

That was Harold’s way of life. He fought his own weakness, he fought evil, he fought monsters, and he fought the world itself.

Perhaps he even viewed her as an enemy. Was that why he sought strength with such desperation?

Training ten hours a day since early childhood was not normal. There had to be a reason, a necessity that drove him.

It was as if he were being pursued by a destiny he had been born with.

(...It’s almost as if the very concept of battle was "planted" into him.)

The intuition flashed through Erika’s mind.

With it came a sickening image that made her want to shiver—the idea that the seeds of a conflict-ridden fate, nesting deep within Harold, were on the verge of blooming.

She shook the thought away. There’s no way such a thing could be true.

And yet, the grim image clung to her mind, refusing to fade.

She was anxious because she cared for him, and because she knew so little of the truth. Because she couldn't understand what he thought or felt, her heart was restless.

If she didn't know, then she would learn. Even if Harold didn't want it, even if it made him hate her—if she believed it was for his sake, she would act without hesitation.

Even if the truth she found was one she didn't want to hear.

◇

Harold had stormed out in a fit of pique, but he couldn't exactly go wandering around a stranger's mansion. Realizing he might get lost in a town he didn't know if he went too far, he settled for a spot on a land bridge over a nearby waterway, keeping the Berlioz estate in sight. He leaned his elbows on the railing and stared down at the water.

(I’ve really stepped in it this time...)

He felt he finally understood those criminals on the news who claimed they just "snapped." He was currently drowning in a mix of self-reflection and regret.

In his defense, he had been utterly blindsided by an "impossible emotion" that had surged from within. For eight years, he had worked tirelessly to make Erika hate him and sever their ties, only to reflexively almost claim her as his fiancée.

That would mean—

"As if that would ever happen...!" he groaned, forcing the thought out of his head.

It definitely wasn't romantic. Harold was simply a young, healthy man. He had seen Erika looking provocatively beautiful, and his brain had short-circuited. It was a purely physiological response, a base instinct. That was it. He convinced himself that had to be the reason.

But there was another problem: he had walked out on Aurelian with a sulking attitude without even a word of excuse.

Regardless of Aurelian's own behavior, Itsuki had said the man was the lord of this region. The Berlioz family likely outranked the Stokes. A brat like him had just shown incredible disrespect; it wouldn't be surprising if he were banned for life.

If that happened, he couldn't fulfill Itsuki’s request, and there was no telling how Justus would react.

Now that he had cooled down, he knew he should go back and apologize, but the "Harold" persona made expressing genuine regret nearly impossible. He’d likely just make things worse.

As Harold brooded over his dilemma, a voice called out.

"What are you doing in a place like this?"

He spun around at the sound of a voice that definitely shouldn't have been there.

Erika stood there, her kimono-clad figure framed by the medieval European cityscape. The sight was surreal, almost otherworldly, enhanced by her unnervingly perfect features.

While she wasn't expressionless, he couldn't read her current mood, which gave him a faint chill.

"None of your business. What are you doing here?"

"My brother was worried you might have gotten lost."

"Don't treat me like a child. It’s irritating."

"There is no need to take your frustration out on me."

Well, she had a point. He could easily imagine Itsuki pushing her to go with some nonsense logic like, "If you comfort Harold now, he's all yours." In a way, she was just as much a victim of Itsuki's meddling as he was.

"Then go back and tell that fool of a brother to keep his useless concern to himself."

"I would like to, but I have a few things I wish to ask you, Lord Harold."

"Ask me?"

Then it clicked. Itsuki had kept Harold's involvement a secret from her. It was only natural she’d have questions about why he was here. Normally, he could have explained things during the introductions, but Itsuki had ruined that opportunity.

The man was truly a master of creating complications.

"Hey there! Quite the unusual outfit, miss. Are you a tourist?"

A voice suddenly broke in between them. It belonged to a man with dark, sun-bronzed skin and lean, healthy muscles. Wearing a tank top, cropped pants, and a bandana, he was clearly a sailor.

Harold immediately realized what the man wanted.

"We aren't interested in a boat ride."

There was a dock nearby where a small boat was moored. Unlike the utilitarian vessels used for cargo, this one was decorated—a sightseeing boat.

"Now, don't be like that. Show the lady you've got some spine!" the sailor said, undeterred. He had clearly mistaken them for a couple.

From an outsider's perspective, it wasn't a strange assumption. The problem was that the suggestion was a massive landmine for both of them.

Harold prepared to walk away, but Erika’s next words stopped him cold.

"Very well. Two people, please."

Harold doubted his ears. If Erika wanted a boat ride, fine, but she had said two. In this situation, that could only mean him.

"...I don't see your maid anywhere," Harold pointed out, searching for an escape.

"Yuno is helping with the party preparations."

Harold’s last hope for a misunderstanding was crushed. She fully intended to get on that boat with him. He couldn't fathom what she was thinking; if she just wanted to talk, they didn't need to be on a boat. As he stood there, bewildered, Erika reached out and took his hand.

"Shall we go, Lord Harold?"

"Hey! What do you think you're—!"

"You wouldn't board if I didn't do this, would you?"

"Of course not! Why would I go anywhere with—let go of my hand!"

"My brother told me that when dealing with you, being forceful is usually the best approach."

"Don't listen to a word that man says!"

"I don't. I'm simply using his advice when it's convenient."

She was even worse than her brother. Like brother, like sister.

Realizing words were useless, Harold put his strength into his arm to shake her off. But for some reason, he couldn't break her grip. Every time he tried to pull away, his strength seemed to slide off into nothingness. It was like trying to punch a ghost.

Erika, still holding his hand, provided the answer to his confusion.

"Are you familiar with 'Aiki,' Lord Harold? It is a martial art technique that, to put it simply, allows one to rob an opponent of their physical freedom."

A cold sweat broke out down Harold’s spine. Erika spoke with a calm, terrifying intensity.

(I know what it is, but why the hell is there Aikido in this world?!)

Even if it existed, Erika being a practitioner was absurd. In the original game, Erika Sumeragi had no physical combat skills. She was a back-line support character, strictly bows and magic.

And yet, here she was, acting like a grandmaster. She had evolved in a way Harold never could have predicted.

"Haha! I didn't expect the lady to be the one taking charge. Must be tough when the girl's the stronger one, eh? Good luck, pretty boy!"

The sailor slapped Harold on the back with a mix of surprise and pity.

Utterly humiliated and unable to break Erika's grip, Harold was led away toward the boat. To the onlookers, he looked like a man with a foul temper being dragged along by a stunning beauty.

To Harold, the small boat looked less like a tourist attraction and more like the ferry across the Sanzu River to the underworld.

The founder of Aikido, Morihei Ueshiba, once said: "Aiki is Love."