Mushoku Tensei (LN) - Volume 19 - Chapter 11

Chapter 11:

Aftermath

I SUGGESTED WE CREMATE Pax; incinerating what was left of his remains and burying him seemed the best choice to me. That was, after all, one of the most universally common ways in this world to hold a memorial service for someone who’d passed.

Zanoba shook his head and stopped me before I could go through with it. He reasoned the rebellion wouldn’t end if they didn’t have Pax’s remains. His voice was flat and unaffected as he elaborated that it would be better to leave him intact instead, so that chaos reigning within Shirone could finally subside.

Pax had been a king, for however short his reign had lasted. I didn’t think it was right to hand his corpse over to the rebels, but there was something indescribably persuasive about the way Zanoba talked me down. In the end, I made no further argument, instead using my water magic to at least clean Pax up before we carried him back up to the fifth floor.

By the time we arrived, we found Randolph with Benedikte draped over his back and luggage in his hands. Roxy had apparently helped him; per Randolph’s request, she had dressed the naked girl and fashioned the sheets into straps to keep her safely secured to his back. Once she was done, she’d snatched the clothes from the closet and stuffed them into a bag for Randolph to take with him. She did this all without uttering a word.

“What of His Majesty?” Randolph asked. Those were the first words out of his mouth when he saw us.

“Dead,” Zanoba answered flatly. “I will hand his remains over to the insurrectionists in order to put an end to their rebellion.”

Randolph’s expression remained placid, revealing nothing. That was the biggest indication to me that he already knew before he’d even asked.

“His Majesty requests I take his queen with me and escape, that I might deliver her safely back to the King Dragon Realm,” Randolph explained.

I was even more confident now that he had to have known that Pax was contemplating suicide. Much as I wanted to demand why he hadn’t stopped Pax, I had no right to drill him about it.

“In that case,” said Zanoba, “it would probably be best that you come with us. We know the way out.”

“Very well, Your Highness. Your consideration is deeply appreciated.” Randolph bowed his head to end their brief exchange.

We had been at each other’s throats only moments ago, fighting to the death, and now Randolph was accompanying us peacefully. Normally, I would have kept my guard up, suspicious that this could be the very trap the Man-God had laid out—that the last battle was still lingering just on the horizon. But I knew better than that. It was clear that Randolph had no desire to battle us. It was strange how I knew that, but I did.

Randolph Marianne, the Death God, ranked fifth among the Seven Great Powers. His strength put him on a level that far exceeded my own, and yet even he looked fatigued. Not that he was the only one, of course; Roxy and I were bone-tired, too. If someone suddenly barged in and pleaded with me to fight with him again, I would probably limply shake my head. Not a single one of us had any energy left. Zanoba was no exception. He stayed deathly quiet.

In total our group numbered four—five, if you counted Benedikte. We lumbered down the stairs, our footsteps heavy as we made it through the exit tunnel and its narrow passages to make our escape.

It was still pitch-black outside, hours away from dawn breaking, when we made it back to the watermill. My Lamplight Spirit raced through the darkness, illuminating the way until its light hit upon the Magic Armor we’d left sitting beside the watermill.

“Is this…the Fighting God’s armor?” Randolph asked abruptly. He stared up at it, dumbfounded.

“No, this is something Zanoba and I put together,” I said. “It’s a magical implement—Magic Armor, as we call it—used for intense battles.”

“Oh, is that so…?” he murmured thoughtfully. “Yeah, if you’d used this thing, I might have been in a bad way.”

I shook my head. “I’m not so sure. Ultimately, I was powerless in the face of your Enthralling Blade.”

Randolph grinned. “You had me cornered before I even had a chance to use it.”

“Sorry?”

“Your synchronized attack left me pretty battered, and the last of my mana was pretty much drained getting rid of those Stone Cannons you launched at me,” he explained, as if trying to comfort me.

In other words, perhaps his real Enthralling Blade had been him pretending he still had plenty of fight left. My own cowardice convinced me not to press the attack, but if I had, we could have won. That’s what it sounded like, anyway, but who knew if his words now were genuine.

No, either way… I started to say to myself, unable to do anything but sigh. I guess not fighting was the best option anyway. Win or lose, it wouldn’t have mattered. And now I only feel more exhausted from thinking about it.

“By the way, Sir Randolph, you said you knew about the Man-God, right?” I decided to ask the question while it was on my mind. It was a rare thing for anyone to know of the Man-God, and after all my efforts here, I’d let Pax die anyway. It would be pathetic to walk away from this with nothing to show for all my trouble.

“Yeah, not that I know much of anything about him,” Randolph answered.

“Well, would you mind telling me what you do know?”

“Sure, I guess. All I heard was that a relative borrowed his power long ago to face an extremely powerful foe.”

I furrowed my brows. “An extremely powerful foe, you say?”

“He did it to protect his fiancée. At the Man-God’s suggestion, he stole the Fighting God’s armor, wore it himself, and went into battle with the Dragon God Laplace—who, at the time, was said to be the strongest in the world. Poor sod wasn’t able to protect his betrothed in the end, though, and the battle nearly took them both out.” There was a brief pause as he finished before he chuckled and tacked on, “Who knows if any of it’s even true.”

I was pretty sure I had heard a story like that before. Yes, come to think of it, Kishirika and Orsted had said something similar—about how the Dragon God and Fighting God had battled.

“It was a story I heard a lot when I was younger, when alcohol was involved. Figure it’s probably complete fiction, but…I grew up hearing it all the time, so naturally, the Man-God’s name stuck with me,” Randolph continued.

This was, in fact, pretty valuable information. He was recounting a story about one of the Man-God’s previous disciples. Though I suspected Orsted already knew about this, following up on it couldn’t hurt.

“So, who was the name of this relative?” I asked.

“The Demon King of the Biegoya Region, Badigadi.”

Oh. Uh, hmm. Maybe it was complete fiction then. The Badigadi I knew was heroic, if not a bit half-hearted at times. I could imagine someone making up such a story about him. Not that I thought Orsted was lying about the story at all, but people often claimed other people’s valorous deeds for their own.

“Thank you,” I said, voice trailing off at the end.

After all was said and done, I was totally wiped. I didn’t even have the energy to say anything else. To think I’d been on the edge all this time over nothing.

Sigh.

I didn’t want to think anymore. I just wanted to go home and crash. I had not slept for an entire day, to be fair.

“Randolph, what do you plan to do now?” Zanoba asked.

“I plan to return to the King Dragon Realm.”

“After that?”

“I’ll protect Her Majesty till she gives birth. Then, I’ll teach her kid—academics, swordsmanship, and culinary skills too.”

“Gives birth”? So Benedikte was pregnant, then? It was hard to tell by looking at her.

“I was told to give the kid lots of praise as they grow up, so they may end up spoiled rotten,” Randolph confessed with a shrug.

“I see,” Zanoba murmured.

Benedikte would birth the child, and Randolph would raise it. I wondered if Benedikte knew that Pax was planning to die. Perhaps the natural thing to ask them was why they hadn’t stopped him if they knew, but I wasn’t about to pose that question to either of them. They couldn’t have stopped him. And it was likely that they were the ones who felt the most miserable about his passing.

“Sir Randolph, would you permit me one last question?” Zanoba asked, as if something had suddenly crossed his mind.

Surrounded by darkness, Randolph tilted his skull-like face as he waited for Zanoba to make his query.

“Why did you stick by Pax for so long? Because the king of the King Dragon Realm ordered you to do so?”

Randolph wore a thin smile. “Nope. I did it because I liked the guy.”

“Very well, then allow me to extend my gratitude.”

“Gratitude,” Randolph echoed, as if testing the word on his lips. “Prince Zanoba, you are an intriguing man.” His faint smile remained as he turned to me and said, “Oh, by the way, Sir Rudeus…”

“Yes? What is it?”

“From what I hear, it’s best not to involve yourself with that Man-God. My relative said as much—doesn’t matter whether you’re on his side or against him, it won’t end well for you either way.”

“Wise words,” I said. A bit too late, though. If only Randolph could have told me that ten years earlier.

“Thanks to his relationship to this Man-God, my relative had a rough time of it himself,” Randolph continued.

Right, Badigadi. It did occur to me that Badigadi had once said something which implied he did know of the Man-God. Unfortunately, I had absolutely no idea where he was right now.

“Well, everyone, be safe,” Randolph said, bidding us farewell.

“You as well.”

He exchanged a handshake with Zanoba before turning on his heel and leaving. His skull-like face faded into the darkness.

Left on our own, no one spoke a word. We dragged ourselves inside the watermill and passed out, sleeping like a couple of logs.

***

We awoke by noon the next day and made our way back to the capital. The rebel army already moved into the palace, and the groups camped outside the walls had vanished. The chain once holding the gate shut was nowhere to be seen.

The Eye of Severance. That was what Randolph had called the Demon Eye he possessed, but I had no idea how it had kept the king’s enemies from infiltrating the palace. In any case, the effects had worn off at some point, either because Randolph had strayed too far from the castle or because enough time had passed since he activated it.

Pillars of smoke rose from inside the castle, likely from cooking fires. You could almost feel the elation from afar. Those inside were bound to be drunk on victory, much like the soldiers of Fort Karon were in the wake of our battle. And the atmosphere wasn’t confined to the palace. The celebratory mood pervaded all corners of the city, as if people were cheering for the fall of the foolish king and the bright future that now awaited them. There was no sign of mourning or despair anywhere.

Pax’s remains were put on display in the city’s main plaza. The rebels declined to show him any decency, having stripped him of all his clothes. For some reason, there was an ugly cut on his shoulder, and he was covered in dirt. That, too, was the work of the rebels, who presumably wanted to present his death as though they had orchestrated it.

General Jade had made his proclamation: “Pax was an irrational tyrant. My nephew is the true king!” 

Typical propaganda. Without an education in politics, I couldn’t really say if Pax had been truly a tyrant. The label probably would have fit him years ago, but the man I’d met in recent days seemed neither irrational nor a tyrant. Sure, if you focused on the part where he massacred the entirety of the royal family, you could argue that he was a despot.

But even with these disgraceful rumors circulating, only a tiny group could be seen slinging stones at the former king’s corpse. People hadn’t loved him, but neither had they hated him. He had spent too long abroad and ruled for far too short of a period. If anything, most people probably thought, So who the hell was that guy, anyway? In other words, most were indifferent to his death. That was the impression I got.

Zanoba trembled as he watched. His eyes stayed wide open, fists shaking at his sides. Even I could feel bile rise in my throat. Perhaps it would have been better for us to cremate him after all. Maybe handing his body over to the rebel army wasn’t the best idea. They probably knew they’d secured victory the moment they took control of the palace.

In fact, before all of that—I could have probably saved Pax from his fate. I could not have anticipated that he would leap from the balcony, but I could have sailed over the edge with him and deployed my magic from midair. Maybe then I—

No. It was no good entertaining such thoughts.

Never in my wildest dreams did I think he would jump. By the time he did, it was already too late. If anything, I should have realized that he was contemplating suicide sooner, but even that seemed like I was asking too much of myself.

“Did I make the wrong call again?” Zanoba suddenly blurted as I was lost in thought.

I had no idea what he was feeling. It was impossible to know how much he really thought of Pax, as his brother. All I knew from studying his face right now was that he had held some kind of special feeling for the man. Perhaps something in their past—something that I didn’t know about—that spurred such emotions in him.

“I don’t know,” I confessed honestly. “But seeing this should discourage people from trying to oppose the next king. And, I guess…the country will be more stable now?”

I couldn’t remember the name of this supposed thirteenth prince, but if I remembered right, he was only three. There was no way he could have incited all of this. General Jade must have been the instigator. I understood why he did it, but that didn’t mean I liked it.

I wondered if General Jade had actually been the Man-God’s disciple. Was I supposed to kill him then? But if his whole aim had been to kill Pax, those cows had already left the barn. Everything was already over. It was possible the Man-God had already withdrawn from here.

Best to leave things be, I decided. 

There was no use spinning my wheels here. Whatever I did seemed unlikely to help our overarching goal. In fact, I’d lost all confidence in my own decision-making. The best thing to do would be returning home for further orders from Orsted. I needed to inform him about Pax’s untimely demise…but I couldn’t leave without Zanoba.

“Zanoba, I’m thinking about going back to Sharia as soon as tomorrow. What about you? Do you plan to stick around a bit longer?” I asked.

“I intend to go back with you, but before we do, could we wait here for Ginger? I suspect she’s already headed this way,” he said.

“Oh, right. Okay, then.”

Whoops. I’d completely forgotten about Ginger. We did need to rendezvous with her first; we could leave once she’d rejoined us.

So we went and found an inn where we stayed for three days. We’d decided against heading toward Fort Karon to meet Ginger on the road. I was eager to head back home, but I also wanted to take in a little more of this country before we departed. I didn’t think we’d come across any groundbreaking revelations in the few extra days we were spending here, but I made sure to gather what information I could, nonetheless.

The hot topic of the town was, of course, the most recent incident. People spoke of how the rebel army surrounded the city, clashing with Pax’s royal forces. They described how the Death God Randolph had engaged General Jade in a death match that lasted several days. There was also talk of how wise and noble their new king was. It was all people talked about, from the markets to the mess room in the inn, to the wells where people gathered. It was hard to tell truth from fiction in these tales, and most seemed to be fabrications. History is written by the victors, as they say, cruel as that reality may be.

Of course, not all of these rumors were invented by General Jade. Some might have started as jokes, with eavesdroppers taking that humor as fact. Judging by how quickly the rumor mill worked, these whispers had probably already started while the enemy army was still camped outside the palace. People loved theatrics, after all. They do say truth is stranger than fiction. From my experience, reality was strange, but also mercilessly and depressingly unforgiving.

Among the intel I gathered, some rumors suggested that the next king would sell off half of the kingdom’s territory to its northern neighbor. Whatever happened to the ceasefire negotiations, I wonder? Did the guys at the fort continue what we had started, or had all our effort amounted to nothing in the end? 

I had no idea, and Zanoba no longer seemed to care. He spent most of each day in the inn lost in thought, sitting in his chair and spacing out. It occurred to me that he had lost all of his family now. His brothers, his fathers—everyone. He’d called this country his home, but his place here was gone. Maybe he no longer felt like this place was worth protecting.

He wasn’t particularly depressed or brooding, though. He simply spent most of his time in quiet contemplation. Perhaps thinking about what he’d do from here.

The person who got depressed was in fact someone else entirely—Roxy. She had hardly spoken for the past few days. She barely touched her food. When night came around, she spent her time staring into the fireplace with a despondent look on her face.

Pax’s death, it seemed, had come as a great shock to her. I could see why. At the very end, Pax only had words of reproach for her. It was as if he blamed her for his suicide. If I were in Roxy’s shoes, I’d probably be at a loss too.

“I’m back,” I called out.

After a long pause, Roxy responded, “Welcome back.” She hugged her knees as she stared vacantly at the fire, as she had for several days now.

I took my seat beside her as usual.

“Hey, um, Roxy…”

The conversation died there as usual. Everything I could think of saying to her seemed so cliché and insensitive. I couldn’t bring myself to force the words out, even if they could assuage whatever guilt she felt.

“It’s true,” she murmured, speaking for the first time. “I did sigh at him back then.”

Roxy didn’t look at me as she spoke, but I could tell she was speaking to me. Her lament didn’t stop there. 

“I mean, the day that Prince Pax mastered that intermediate spell. He was so elated when he came to show me, and I just sighed at him. I may have even muttered to myself, ‘It sure took you long enough.’”

“That would be hurtful,” I acknowledged.

Roxy clutched tightly at the hem of her robe. “Honestly, I think when I was teaching him, I kept comparing his progress to yours. I found myself thinking things like, ‘Rudy could have grasped this instantly,’ or, ‘Rudy would have learned this at the snap of my fingers.’ And because of that, I saw him as being beneath you. Maybe I really did look down on him.”

I had learned intermediate magic almost instantly. Roxy herself picked it up just as quickly, I assumed. Not everyone found it so intuitive, though. I’d found that out the hard way by teaching Eris and Ghislaine. Pax had probably done the best he could. He put in effort, contrived his own methods for using the magic, practiced them, and finally reached the next level. He was probably hoping Roxy would shower him in praise for his accomplishment, but to his disappointment, she’d sighed. If Roxy had done the same thing to me back when I was living in Buena Village, then…well, I probably wouldn’t respect her the way I do now. I might not have married her either.

“At the time, I was more focused on the power and spells I hadn’t mastered. Even after I reached the King tier, I had my sights set on something even greater. Perhaps I was arrogant, and ignored those who weren’t on my level.” Roxy chewed on her lip, squeezing her knees tightly.

I reached over and stroked her back. She trembled slightly under my touch.

“I thought I had learned from my past mistakes. I knew that I’d messed up and swore to do better,” she said, eyes welling up with tears. “But it seemed like I didn’t learn a thing. It occurred to me, if only faintly, that maybe I had failed as an instructor, but I tried to defend myself by insisting that no, it was the environment at the palace that was the problem.” 

Tears began trickling down her cheeks as she continued, “I never realized it was my attitude that warped him. It never occurred to me—not once—not until he said so that day.”

As she broke into a sob, she pressed her face into her knees, as if trying to shut off her tears. She curled in on herself, shrinking even as I continued rubbing her back.

“I always thought I could just do better with the next student, but…Pax only had one chance to learn for the first time. And I blew it.”

Roxy continued to weep. I kept comforting her, letting silence fall between us. The only sound in the room was her sobbing. She was still trembling under my touch, but I didn’t let that stop me. 

After a while, the tears subsided. When she lifted her head, her eyes were red and bloodshot.

“Rudy, do you really think it’s okay for me to continue being a teacher after this?” she asked.

How was I supposed to respond to that? I didn’t know. I wasn’t a teacher. The only thing I thought of was the one word I’d used to address her so long ago.

“Teacher,” I said. 

The next words I had were superficial, plucked right from the pages of some manga or a video game, I couldn’t remember which. Maybe it was self-aggrandizing for me to say it. Maybe it would only provide empty consolation. And maybe I was only trying to obfuscate the problem.

“My teacher, you haven’t failed. You’ve only gained more experience.”

Others might judge differently, but I didn’t think it was wrong to say this.

“As long as you don’t repeat the same mistakes, then your other students will grow into amazing adults and find happiness of their own, just as I did,” I said.

Roxy stared at me. I studied her—the blue hair, the blue lashes, and those tiny, trembling lips. These were all things that I couldn’t have at one point in my life, but now things were different.

“Rudy, are you happy?” she asked me.

“Yes. I’ve been through some awful things, but thanks to your teachings, I’ve found happiness.”

“Rudy…you always say that.”

Of course I did. Because it was the truth. That wouldn’t change.

“I can’t explain it very well,” I admitted, “but the only reason I was able to take my first real step in this life is because you pulled me onto that horse with you.”

She shook her head. “You’re being overdramatic. I’m sure that’s because it was so long ago, and you’ve convinced yourself it’s a bigger deal than it really was.”

“True, maybe I am exaggerating a bit. But one thing is for certain: every time I failed, I remembered how you would keep moving forward even when you didn’t succeed. That gave me strength,” I said earnestly.

Yes, maybe having Roxy as a teacher did lead one of her students to choose the wrong path in life. I could have told her that she wasn’t the only factor that led to his demise, but since she already felt personally responsible, as far as she was concerned, she may as well have pushed him over that balcony herself.

However, I could argue that there were other students who were still alive because she’d been their teacher. I was certainly one such example. She wasn’t the only one who had kept me going, sure, but she had definitely been an important influence.

“I have no intention of telling you to just forget what happened,” I said. “If anything, I think it’s better if you don’t. But at the same time, I don’t want you to overlook the fact that there are other students whose lives you have saved, like mine.”

I knew I sounded pompous saying that, but that was genuinely how I felt. I didn’t want Roxy to dismiss her career as a teacher.

Roxy’s jaw dropped as she stared at me. She seemed to be having some kind of epiphany. Her body trembled, and thanks to all the sobbing she’d done, snot was now trailing down her upper lip. In a panic, she buried her face back into the folds of her robe.

“Rudy,” she murmured.

“Yes?”

“I’m certain Lara must have been trying to set things up so I would meet Prince Pax once again.”

Who was to say either way? Only Lara knew for sure. Roxy might be convinced that was the case, but I wasn’t so sure.

Yet, despite my reservations, I said, “…Yeah, I’m sure that must be it.” 

Roxy continued weeping for a while after that. I stayed beside her the entire time. But by the time the sun rose the next day, she was in better spirits than she had been for a while.

Five more days passed. General Jade made arrangements for the coronation. He planned to make a grand affair of it. Though I doubted if the country’s coffers could fund it, after all the financial strain between the coup and the hostilities with their northern neighbors, I understood the importance of putting on a show to make the change in leadership clear.

As whispers of the coronation plans spread, we finally managed to rendezvous with Ginger. After we left Fort Karon, she’d remained until she recovered enough of her stamina to catch up with us. Since she had exerted her horse well past its limits, she needed to find a new mount, which slowed her journey to rejoin us.

As she figured out what happened—in between seeing the situation in the capital and hearing our version of events—her expression stiffened, as if she thought it natural how things panned out. But almost as quickly, her face turned blank once more and she muttered an innocuous, “Oh, I see.”

I couldn’t blame her for not being torn up about Pax’s death; he’d done horrible things to her. But that didn’t make it any less depressing.

“Well then, Your Highness, what do you plan to do now?” she asked.

Zanoba hummed thoughtfully, considering the question.

“I assume…you most likely intend to continue protecting the Kingdom?” 

Although Ginger’s expression betrayed no emotion, her voice trembled slightly. Pax was dead. There was no longer anyone here who might threaten Zanoba’s life. Yes, the next monarch might view him as a potential threat, but General Jade was a shrewd man. He wouldn’t hold a personal grudge against Zanoba for his brother’s misdeeds, and he would see the usefulness of having a Blessed Child on their side. There were still risks, but at least General Jade was someone who could be reasoned with. He would be much easier to handle and serve than Pax, if that’s what Zanoba chose.

“No.” Zanoba shook his head weakly. “I will be returning to Sharia.”

After a short pause, Ginger nodded emphatically, suppressing a smile as she said, “Understood.”

I always thought she wanted him to be a shining example of royalty and abide by the duties that entailed, but her reaction told me she was more interested in seeing him healthy and whole.

I was relieved, honestly. I’d managed to achieve my initial objective—keeping Zanoba alive. Yet as I gazed at his face, my stomach twisted.

“Ginger,” he said, face firm with resolve. It was the same look of determination he’d worn when he first set off on this journey to Shirone. “I am considering…abandoning my country.”

“Abandoning your country?” Ginger repeated, confused. “Oh, you mean defecting? A fine idea. Ranoa Kingdom would surely welcome you with open arms. Perhaps if Lord Rudeus were to put in a good word, Asura Kingdom might even—”

Zanoba shook his head. “No, I don’t mean defecting.” He gazed down at her as she continued kneeling before him and said, “I am considering relinquishing my status as royalty. We’ll let people think I died in the course of this rebellion, and I will return to Sharia not as Third Prince Zanoba Shirone of Shirone Kingdom, but simply as Zanoba. And that, I believe, is how I shall spend the rest of my days.”

Ginger’s face clouded over. She probably disapproved. I had no idea what it really meant to discard your status like that, since I’d never possessed that kind of status to begin with.

After another short pause, she finally said, “I think that is also a fine idea.” 

To my surprise, she didn’t oppose him.

Zanoba had lived a good life in Sharia. He would only lose face by returning to Shirone now. Even if he defected to another country, they would most likely use him for the power he had as a Blessed Child. If those were his only options, perhaps it was best to abandon his status so he could live the way he wanted. Not being royalty anymore might be financially difficult, but I could help him there. He could become a specialized mechanic for my Magic Armor, and I could pay him a salary to maintain it. If that didn’t appeal to him, he could do some kind of job in our mercenary company instead.

“Indeed,” Zanoba said. “Ginger, you have been a faithful retainer.”

“You honor me with those words.”

Zanoba nodded, looking pleased with himself. For her part, Ginger seemed relieved.

“Having said all that, what do you plan to do now?” he asked her.

She stared back at him. “Why, I plan to continue serving you the way I always have.”

His brow furrowed. “You may be my personal guard, but you are a knight of Shirone. If I’m no longer part of the royal family, then you have no reason to serve me any longer.”

“For me, it’s hardly relevant whether you’re part of the royal family or not.”

“Hm, but I won’t be able to pay you, you realize? If I remember correctly, you have been forwarding your payments to your family, yes?”

“They have all since grown and become independent. There’s no one I need to financially support anymore,” she answered.

The sharpness in Zanoba’s tone dulled as they continued arguing back and forth.

“You also realize that if you remain in my services for much longer, your chances of finding a suitable partner for marriage will wane, don’t you?”

Come to think of it, how old is Ginger anyway? I’m pretty sure she’s already missed the prime marriage age, at least as far as this world is concerned.

“Marriage?!” Ginger snapped, losing her patience. Her chin rose as she lifted herself so that she was on both knees, then she threw her arms open wide. At first I wondered what she was doing, but then she threw herself forward, slamming her fists against the ground. It looked like she was prostrating herself. Perhaps this was the biggest sign of respect one could show in Shirone. It would make sense, given that Zanoba often did the same thing.

“Lady Minerva made a direct request that I look after you! It doesn’t matter whether you’re royalty or not. Nor do I care if I stay at your side in the capacity of a mistress instead of a knight. But I beg of you! If you’re truly concerned for me, please, keep me with you!”

Her declaration was so sudden that I couldn’t hide my confusion.

Minerva…if I remember right, that’s the name of Zanoba’s mother.

“Hm.” Zanoba cupped his chin, as if considering her plea. He slowly crouched down and responded, “I hear you, Ginger. Lift your head.”

Ginger did as she was commanded, eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

“If you’re truly that insistent, I will not push you away against your will. However, I will also not treat you as a knight or even a retainer. From now on, you will be my supporter. Understood?”

The tears finally spilled over, racing down her cheeks as she answered, “Yes, sir!” And then she lowered her head, prostrating herself once more.

I couldn’t decide if it was a beautiful sight or not. From the outside, it seemed so surreal.

In any case, Zanoba had decided he would return home. Our mission here was done. I couldn’t say we’d pulled it off without a hitch; we hadn’t really solved any problems. The whole thing left a bad taste in my mouth. Not only was I despondent over my failure to save Pax, but it also seemed like all the effort we’d put in had been for naught, leaving only stress.

Lingering sentiments aside, it was over and done with. Time to go home.