"It has been a long time, Albert."
"Indeed, Big brother Shneider."
The man with the piercing gaze spoke in a low, level voice.
His tone was entirely devoid of intonation. A mask covered his face, concealing his expressions, yet his sharp eyes glinted from behind the eye slits.
This man, who appeared significantly older than Albert, was the First Prince, Shneider di Saloom.
A master strategist who commanded the Saloom First Squad, he specialized primarily in defensive warfare. He was hailed as Saloom’s strongest general, renowned for his ability to use small units to repeatedly repel enemy forces ten times their size.
"You’ve grown, Albert! My thanks for the welcome!"
"And I am pleased to see you in such high spirits, Big sister Cruse."
Another voice called out, this one hearty and cheerful. It belonged to a tall, imposing woman with a face etched with scars.
She was easily a size larger than Albert, and her physique didn't pale even when standing beside Shneider. Her body bore the marks of countless battles, and an eyepatch covered her left eye. This was the First Princess, Cruse di Saloom.
She was a valiant general who led the Saloom Second Squad, specializing in aggressive offensive maneuvers. She, too, was called Saloom’s strongest general, known for tearing through any defensive line with her wild, instinctive tactics and her ability to ignite morale by leading the charge herself.
Indeed, both were generals celebrated as the strongest.
The two had spent years competing for military achievements against rebels and hostile nations. Whether Shneider or Cruse was the superior general was a perennial topic of debate among the populace, from the elderly down to the children.
Because they rarely returned to the castle—and even when they did, they were soon off to the next battlefield—this was my first time meeting either of them.
Cruse looked down at me with curiosity.
"By the way, Albert, who is this little one?"
"Ah, this is Lloyd. The Seventh Prince, Lloyd di Saloom. I believe I’ve mentioned him to you several times?"
"Nice to meet you. I’m Lloyd."
When I gave a polite little bow, Cruse nodded with a hum of approval.
"Ho, so you’re Lloyd! I’ve heard the tales, but 'tis the first time we’ve spoken face-to-face, it is. Kakkakka! You’re a tiny one, aren't you!"
Cruse’s large, rough hand came down on my head, scrubbing it vigorously.
Ow, ow, ow—she’s too strong. My hair’s going to be a complete mess.
"I’ve heard the rumors from Albert. To think you can use magic at your age. 'Tis a grand feat, truly!"
"Big sister Cruse, Lloyd is not simply 'capable.' He is a magical genius. He is my equal—no, he might even surpass me..."
Seeing Albert’s deadly serious expression, Cruse burst into a raucous laugh.
"Kakkakka! Albert, your brotherly doting has gone too far! To claim he is on par with you, the man hailed as Saloom’s greatest mage, is surely an exaggeration. Though if he truly is that good, I might just have to draft him into my Magic Squad, eh? Hmm?"
"Don't tease me. And even if you are my sister, I can't let you take Lloyd into your squad..."
"’Tis a joke, 'tis a joke! I wouldn’t do such a thing. I’ve heard more than enough about how much you favor the boy."
Albert and Cruse began to chat amiably.
Throughout the conversation, Shneider kept his eyes fixed on me, staring intently.
I wondered what was going on behind that mask. The pressure he radiated was immense; the very air felt heavy in his presence.
"Prince Shneider, Princess Cruse, welcome home."
I turned toward the voice and saw a silver-haired maid—Sylpha—bowing deeply.
"It has been a long expedition. We are truly grateful for your hard work."
"Oh, if it isn't Sylpha! I trust the food and baths are ready, are they not?"
"Naturally, your Highness."
"Umu, umu! You’re as sharp as ever. Tell me, how about joining me for a bath after we eat? 'Tis been a while since—"
"You are jesting, of course."
Despite being flatly rejected, Cruse didn't seem bothered in the least as she let out another booming laugh.
"She’s quite the character... A man among women, one might say," Grimo remarked.
"A true warrior. Though she lacks a certain... charm. She doesn't quite hit the moe mark, I'm afraid," Jiriel added.
While my familiars were making their usual commentary, a man stepped forward from behind Sylpha.
"Welcome home, Princess Cruse."
He was a middle-aged man with a sharp, fearless face and short-cropped silver hair—the Knight Commander and Sylpha’s father, Marquos.
The moment Cruse saw Marquos, she practically jumped in surprise.
"M-M-Marquos-dono..."
Her demeanor flipped instantly. Her voice, once booming, was now as quiet as a cricket’s chirp.
"It is an honor to have you back. I am relieved to see you have returned safely, Princess Cruse."
"O-O-O-Oh! 'Tis glad I am to see Marquos is in good health too, I am!"
"Knowing you were coming home, Princess Cruse, Sylpha has put her heart and soul into preparing a grand feast. Please, come this way."
"Umu... Hmmm... I-I wonder if I can eat that much... Hahaha..."
She had suddenly become incredibly stilted. What on earth was wrong with her?
"Big sister Cruse harbors a delicate crush on Commander Marquos. ...Well, I suppose I didn't need to tell you for you to see that," Albert whispered in my ear.
So that was it. I hadn't noticed at all.
"A-l-b-e-r-t?"
Cruse’s neck creaked as she turned her head to glare at him.
Albert muttered a quick "Uh-oh" and hurried off toward the castle.
"Good grief, that boy... Come, Shneider, let us go!"
"..."
Shneider wordlessly averted his gaze from me and urged his horse forward.
"Now, everyone, if you please."
Following Sylpha’s lead, the soldiers trailed after the two royals.
"She’s quite the force of nature, isn't she? Big sister Cruse, I mean. And Big brother Shneider has such a... distinct aura."
"They are both exceptional people," Albert said. "Even Commander Marquos has admitted that the Langris Style Swordsmanship Sylpha uses was originally modeled after Big sister Cruse's fighting style. And Big brother Shneider is the strategist who doubled our kingdom's territory in a mere ten years. With the two of them back, we have the strength of a thousand; no matter how large the Stampede, they'll be able to brush it aside with ease."
Now that he mentioned it, I remembered something Sylpha had told me.
Apparently, when Cruse was only ten years old, her sword skills were already enough to trade blows evenly with the Knight Commander himself.
And when I was reading in the library, I recall seeing Shneider’s name constantly in the titles of military records. It was even said that Shneider-style tactics served as the foundation for almost every strategy used in Saloom today.
Looking back at the battle just now, even though they were at a staggering numerical disadvantage, they had wiped out the enemy in the blink of an eye.
"You really respect them, don't you, Albert-niisan?"
"I do. I admire them. All of my siblings are so talented; it makes me incredibly proud."
Albert gave a warm, genuine smile.
I suppose this was why people considered him the leading candidate for the Right of Succession. The ability to respect and trust others so completely is a rare quality.
"Hey! Albert! Lloyd! What’s taking you so long? We’re all famished after the battle—if you don't hurry, we’ll eat every scrap of food before you get here!"
"We’re coming! We'll be right there. ...Well, shall we go, Lloyd?"
"Yes!"
Together with Albert, I hurried after the others.