c - forme - WEBNOVELS

It was dark when Wilhelm returned to the apartments to discover a wonderful smell floating from the dining area. The warm aroma tickled his nose, calling to him. When he opened the door to the dining room, he found himself looking at the back of a red-haired woman who had just finished laying out dinner.

Her elegant shoulders, her narrow waist, the way her hips swayed from side to side—he felt he could look at her forever and never see enough.

"When you get back, you should say so," the woman said. "You're not a sulking child, so mind your manners."

"I didn't stay quiet because I was sulking."

"Then why did you? Looking for the words to apologize?" Theresia gave a pouty little snort without even turning around.

He could hardly tell her that he'd been silent because his love for her had left him speechless. For a while longer, he let the quiet take the place of his answer, until Theresia gave a sigh of exasperation.

"Gosh, I wish you would just talk to me… And I think you know that."

"Sorry. So what's the story here?"

"…You were the one who said we would eat dinner together. Hmph." With that adorable little sound, Theresia took off her apron and sat down.

This time, the amount of food on the table was more suited to two people. Wilhelm was relieved when he realized there would be no undesired visitors, but then he quailed at the thought of being alone with her for dinner.

That morning, he hadn't been able to say anything to help them make up, but now…

"You made breakfast for me, didn't you, Wilhelm? It was terrible… I couldn't imagine having the same thing for dinner."

"I'm sure I cooked it all the way through."

"You have to do more than just burn it! The center was black as tar! I have to admit, though, the way you cut the ingredients was expert—I thought it was some kind of prank!"

Wilhelm frowned, caught off guard by Theresia's vehemence. Yes, he had misjudged the heat somewhat, but he didn't think the final product could have been called inedible.

Theresia looked like she could tell what he was thinking. She gestured to the seat across from her and said, "I worry how you were eating these past two years… I wonder if there's any chance someone was cooking for you.

Someone like, well, you know…"

"If you're thinking of Roswaal, you're wrong. Don't make me repeat myself again and again. She found me on her own. I never welcomed her.

And I only thanked her one time."

"What for…?"

"For telling me the day of the ceremony. Otherwise, I wouldn't have been able to see you." His response was flat and casual.

"O-oh. Well, I—you—heh-heh…"

Theresia blushed, then laughed weakly. Wilhelm, meanwhile, looked at the food.

The quantity of food was much less than the night before, but the variety was just as rich. Not a single dish was the same as anything that had appeared the previous night, shocking Wilhelm with the breadth of Theresia's repertoire.

"You've got a lot of tricks up your sleeve," he said.

"I'm not sure that's a compliment," she answered. "Hee-hee—not that I mind."

Theresia smiled happily at Wilhelm's awkward praise. It was the first time he had seen her really smile in almost a full day.

Wilhelm put a hand to his chest, unexpectedly relieved by that smile.

"Now let's eat," Theresia said. "I'm going to find out what you like—I want to know your opinion on each dish."

"They were all delicious. That's my opinion of last night."

"Well, that won't do today. I'll be watching you, and I'm going to see which foods you enjoy. I'm not going to trust your words."

As terrible as it was, Wilhelm preparing some food for her had apparently lit the fire of Theresia's own desire to display her cooking ability. If that was what it took to bring them back together, then he would gladly accept her criticism of his kitchen skills.

And so dinner proceeded calmly, with Theresia examining Wilhelm's reaction to each dish.

He had already confirmed the day before that she was quite an accomplished chef, but the singular focus on getting through all the food had made it difficult to fully appreciate the special qualities of each dish. Maybe that was why the food tonight seemed so very much more delicious.

"How is it? More satisfying than yesterday?"

"Yeah. I think it tastes better today."

"Really? That's great! Yesterday I focused on food from the southern part of the kingdom, but today is more northern. Maybe you like the flavors they use better."

"I don't know. Maybe it's just 'cause I'm eating with you?"

"Er! Ahem! N-no fair ambushing me like that…!"

It was a casual remark, but Theresia was feeling rather sensitive, and when it reached her ears, she started to choke on her water. Wilhelm smiled a little but then quickly frowned again. This was a lovely dinner they were sharing, but there were things that had to be talked about, and he couldn't put them off forever.

Theresia noted the change in his expression. She dabbed at her mouth with her napkin and straightened.

"Theresia, there's something I want to talk about," Wilhelm said.

"Y-yes. Of course…"

"It's about my readmission to the military. I talked a little with someone higher up, and I think I'll be able to get back in. I'm sorry for causing you so much trouble and worry."

"Oh—oh, that! Phew. I thought you were going to say you were leaving or something…"

"…No, and I definitely won't, either. Don't make me repeat myself again and again."

He was realizing how insecure Theresia felt; he didn't know how long it would take to clear away her doubts. From Wilhelm's point of view, in his heart of hearts, there was no one he valued more than her. Although he would have hardly admitted as much even under torture. He couldn't.

"Ah! I'm thrilled that you'll be able to rejoin the army, of course. And I'm sure you'll be happier working with your friends like Grimm and Master

Bordeaux again."

"My friends… I'd never thought of them that way." Brothers in arms, maybe. But not friends.

In any event, Theresia was glad to hear Wilhelm would get back in the military. The one remaining problem was Theresia herself…

"Theresia, there's still something else to talk about. Something even more important."

"Y-yes…?"

"Calm down. It's not what you're thinking. Tomorrow, I'm going to be out all day. I'll probably be back around the same time as today, but…tomorrow, you absolutely must not go to the castle."

" "

His emphatic tone startled Theresia. She put a finger to her lips, considering his words.

"I have to stay away from the castle? Why?"

"You just have to. Listen to me. I won't make you regret it."

"Why would my going to the castle or not be something for me to regret?

That makes me more anxious than anything."

The lack of explanation bothered her, but Wilhelm showed no inclination to clarify. The two glared at each other for a moment, but Theresia folded before the silent Wilhelm. She sighed and gave in: "I understand. You can't tell me why, but I'm not to go to the castle. The whole day tomorrow—is that correct?"

"Yeah, that's right. Please."

"Well, since you asked so nicely… But can I ask you one thing?"

Theresia covered herself by standing up as if she were about to start clearing the table. Wilhelm looked at her, and she held up one finger.

"If I break that promise…will you hate me?"

"I'll be very angry."

"Oh? All right, then."

She gave a wave of her hand and began taking dishes to the washing area. Wilhelm, watching her hips sway happily from side to side, became lost in thought. The tone of her voice just now perplexed him. Surely she didn't intend to break her promise and come to the castle.

"Well, I told her not to come, so she probably won't."

Wilhelm nodded to himself, piled up the rest of the dishes, then followed after Theresia.

Theresia saw Wilhelm off early the next morning, and for the third day in a row, he went to the castle.

Today, however, Wilhelm seemed different from the two previous days. Or perhaps the way he'd been acting before was what had been out of character for him.

He strode boldly through the castle gate, the aura he exuded leaving no doubt in anyone's mind that this was Wilhelm Trias, the Sword Devil, a warrior who had defeated the strongest fighter in the nation.

An armored guard was waiting for the silent Wilhelm by the gate.

"Fortune favor you in battle," he said. His visor hid his expression, but his face was tight and there was sweat on his forehead. He knew from a glance at Wilhelm. Knew just a fraction of the true power that attended the one once known as the Sword Devil, who had overcome the Sword Saint despite her prodigious achievements.

Wilhelm cut through the castle, moving steadily toward one place and one place only. A training ground rife with the odors of blood and fat jumped into his vision.

The space was surrounded by a huge wall, and several soldiers were there, full of vigor and the lust for battle. This was the place where, day after day, the knights and guards and military forces of the nation tested their combat abilities against one another and constantly sought to improve themselves.

Vitality and a love for all things related to combat were expected in such a place—and only more so when the assembly included all those considered strongest and most distinguished among the kingdom's armed forces.

"So you're here, y'damned jackass idiot."

As soon as Wilhelm entered the center of the training ground, he was met with this verbal assault. The speaker had thick arms and carried a massive battle-ax…

"Bordeaux. I thought you were going to get off the battlefield now that you've moved up in the world."

"Gah-ha-ha! Don't be dumb. I'll be out in the field for the rest of my life. They gave me a promotion—so what? It's not like I'm going to just throw down my weapon. That's one way you and I are the same."

Bordeaux guffawed, staring excitedly at Wilhelm, who stood at the ready. Wilhelm shrugged at the giant, then looked over who else was standing there.

Each and every one of the people assembled were fighters trained to the hilt, not one of them meek or mild. Wilhelm recognized two faces among them.

"Even you guys are here?" he snorted. "You ought to know by now when you're outclassed."

In front of him stood a female knight with golden hair, and a man bearing a shield—Carol and Grimm. Holding aloft their sword and shield, respectively, they nodded in recognition of Wilhelm's barb.

"Don't be too proud of yourself," Carol said. "There's not a person here who doesn't belong to the elite. A careless challenge on your part can only end in your humiliation."

"I know perfectly well that everyone here is a good fighter. So what are you doing here?"

"Why, you—!"

Carol, please, calm down.

Grimm restrained his red-faced lover, who had swallowed Wilhelm's bait hook, line, and sinker. Then he turned that sweet face of his toward Wilhelm and almost smiled.

We won't hold back, you know.

"At least you finally learned to talk a good game." Wilhelm laughed aloud.

In addition to the three of them, several other warriors who had distinguished themselves during the civil war could be seen. Some were his old companions from his days with Zergev Squadron, and as a whole, the group's readiness to fight was electric, enough to make one's hair stand on end.

"Well, it looks like we're all here now." Into that tense atmosphere on the training ground came an incongruously gentle voice. Wilhelm looked and saw Miklotov, seated where he could observe the entire training field. The prime minister's assistant was wearing a deep blue robe, and he nodded deeply at the gathered fighters.

"A most impressive display," he said. "Already there's such a presence, and we haven't even begun yet."

"I'm not here to put on a show," Wilhelm growled. "Just keep your promise."

Miklotov winked and chuckled at Wilhelm's arrogant tone. Then he looked over his shoulder, gave an elaborate bow, and said, "This way, sire."

Everyone frowned at this, but an instant later, all of them kneeled as one. Yes, even Wilhelm. Why?

"Now, now, there's no need for such obsequiousness. I've only come to observe the outcome."

There was a note of laughter in the voice, which carried easily to every corner of the training ground. The speaker was a man in an elegant robe and dazzling formal clothes. He was somewhere close to his forties and well built— But such common expressions hardly fit this man.

He was, after all, the most exalted person at this training ground, or the castle, or the capital, or even the whole kingdom.

"His Majesty, Jionis Lugunica."

"A most impressive sight, as Miklotov said. Such a gathering of braves must occur only at times of great import… This might not have been possible were it not immediately after our ceremony."

The man looked pleased with himself. He was indeed Jionis Lugunica, current ruler of the Dragonfriend Kingdom and the one whose power had made this moment possible for Wilhelm.

Jionis looked over his kneeling subjects and, spotting Wilhelm among them, said, "Ha-ha, Trias. Your attitude now seems far more refined than when you came to speak to me yesterday."

"…I was most impudent yesterday, sire. And more, I feel nothing but gratitude toward Your Majesty's generosity for affording me this opportunity."

"Well and good. What you said moved me, and I merely responded accordingly. Moreover, your fight with the Sword Saint during the ceremony was a beautiful thing to behold. That sword dance alone might have warranted giving you this chance."

Jionis ran a hand through his golden hair, his crimson eyes flashing, and laughed as innocently as a child. This attitude, the way he carried himself, his way of thinking—all these made it hard to believe that he was, in fact, a king. But he did indeed possess the most distinguished blood in the Dragonfriend Kingdom, that of the Lugunicas. As rulers, it could not be said that their house was particularly well regarded for its statecraft. But they had personalities that all found attractive, drawing people to them. Such was he…

"I did tell you to devise some solution that headquarters would go along with," Miklotov said from beside the king, looking for once both exasperated and shocked. "But I never imagined you would immediately resort to

dragging His Majesty into this. I must admit, I'm surprised."

When Wilhelm had combined Miklotov's warning with Olfe's advice, he had hit upon the idea of a great battle that would allow Theresia to be free of her title of Sword Saint. He had talked Jionis into the idea, and it was the king who had brought this convocation of warriors together to hold a trial by combat.

"Now, Trias, show me. Show me that you alone can defeat all of my kingdom's most able warriors. If you can do that, it will demonstrate that you are even greater than the Sword Saint, that you can single-handedly overcome the entire strength of this kingdom. Prove with your blade that we need no Sword Saint!"

The conclusion Wilhelm had found was the height of absurdity. It was a solution one could only reach by following the path of the sword as far as it could possibly go. But the king, who was the only one who had received Wilhelm's supplication on his balcony, who had seen firsthand the meeting between the Sword Saint and the Sword Devil at the ceremony, had merely laughed and told Wilhelm to leave things to him.

And now, all the most powerful fighters in the Dragonfriend Kingdom of Lugunica, who had originally assembled to celebrate the end of the civil war, were gathered for battle.

Wilhelm would defeat them all and replace need for the Sword Saint with the power of the Sword Devil. He would eliminate every last excuse for Theresia to be the Sword Saint. He would cut them down with his blade. All in order to prove that she could afford to be just another normal girl, smiling and enjoying her flowers. "Take this, Trias!"

So shouting, Jionis tossed down a sword Miklotov had handed him. Wilhelm grabbed it as it spun through the air, pointing the tip of this sacred blade at the soldiers opposing him.

The sword was sharp, edge sparkling, and the sensation of imminent combat filled the training ground. The battlefield took shape.

"Now let the proceedings begin. With my own eyes, I shall bear witness to the love song of the Sword Devil."

The king made his declaration from the observation seat.

Almost instantaneously, Wilhelm jumped, advancing. He closed on his enemies, ready to cut them all down.

Bordeaux and the others rushed forward to meet him, sparking a battle with no quarter asked or given.

"Rrruuuuahhhhh!!"

Wilhelm howled like an animal, and then his blade cleaved through the crowd.

It wasn't as if she had planned all along to break her promise.

Theresia had done a good deal of thinking in her own way. Wilhelm was on her mind. He was often at the center of her thoughts. In fact, the more she thought about him, the more she loved him.

And the more intense those feelings got, the more concerned and even frightened she grew about what he might be doing at that castle where she couldn't see him.

Perhaps he might leave her again. That fear constantly tormented Theresia.

"I'm sure he's at the castle like he said…I think."

Between their conversation the night before and their parting that morning, she was convinced. It would be much more surprising not to find him at the castle.

So maybe she could go to the castle now, just to check.

"But that's exactly what he said not to do… Oh, but I'm so worried!"

She was already changed; now she needed only to decide whether or not to go out the door. She couldn't bring herself to cross that line, however, and so she hadn't left yet.

She had spent almost the last hour fretting about this. If she wasn't careful, she could find herself wasting the entire day worrying, right up until Wilhelm came home…

"And thaaat would be less than romaaantic, wouldn't it?"

"Wha?"

Theresia looked up, startled. Notwithstanding the fact that she had been deep in very concerned thought, it was rare for her to meet someone who could get close without her noticing.

Even more striking than that, though, was that Theresia recognized the voice.

She had heard it several days earlier, on the morning of the ceremony that had turned into her reunion with Wilhelm.

"Weeell, it's been a few days. How haaave you been, I wonder?"

Leaning against the open doorframe and smiling was a woman with indigo hair. Each of her eyes was a different color, and she had an uncanny beauty with which Theresia was all too familiar.

At that moment, too, one of the seeds of worry in Theresia's heart burst into full bloom.

"Are you…Miss Roswaal, then?"

"Goodness, I don't thiiink I ever told you my name. And I doubt he's filled you in on the details—what gave me away?"

"I just…thought it might be you. A woman's intuition."

"Well, well."

The woman—Roswaal—wetted her thin lips with her tongue. Then she closed one eye; Theresia straightened up under the gaze of the still-open, golden one.

"Ahem. May I ask what business you have at my house? If you're looking for Wilhelm, he isn't here."

"No need to get so riled up. He shot me down a long, long time ago. He's completely infatuated with you. That, you need never doubt."

"I w-wasn't doubting it. I'm confident that I'm loved." Theresia answered proudly, but her face darkened as she realized she may have misspoken. Roswaal said Wilhelm had shot her down. Might it not, then, be insensitive to boast of her own relationship with the man?

"Oh, you needn't look so concerned. Those feelings are precious, and I hope you'll aaaalways hold on to them. They may be the key to something important one day."

"…What did you come here to say? If you're simply here to congratulate me, I'd be happy to set out some tea and snacks."

"You know full well that isn't why I'm here. I… Weeeell, let's say I'm here to butt in for the last time."

Then Roswaal shrugged and laughed like a court jester.

" "

Theresia, however, spotted in her smile something lonely and fleeting. Although even she didn't know quite what it was.

The training ground was ablaze with combat, the immense friction of clashing weapons scorching the air.

"—!"

Wilhelm, sliding between blows like a gust of wind, lashed out at his enemies, rendering the elites unable to fight one by one.

In all, there were forty elite soldiers arranged against the lone Sword Devil. Not a single of their number was known as anything less than a beast in combat, but when Wilhelm faced them, he felt his blood roil as an animalistic howl welled up from within him.

In a certain sense, this test was absurd. But Wilhelm had to prove his point. This was his way of convincing the kingdom, through his indomitable fighting ability, to surrender an immense power.

"Raaaughhh!!"

He flinched, barely managing to dodge a spear blow and retaliating with his sword. He kicked at a body that bent backward under the force of his strike, using the momentum to leap away; he allowed himself an instant to fill his lungs with air. The oxygen coursed through his blood, carrying energy throughout his body and reviving his limbs. He could still fight. He could keep going. It would not be long now before he would put on a fight that would make everyone forget about the Sword Saint.

"Learn to defend, dumbass!" his former commander ordered him.

" "

Wilhelm was practically crawling on the ground as Bordeaux took aim at him with a sweep of his ax. Wilhelm could feel it slice through the air as he spun along with the weapon.

He felt a shock of pain as it grazed him. But the same moment offered him an opening. Bordeaux's great swing left his body exposed, and Wilhelm drove his sword directly at him. But— "Damn you, Grimm!"

A huge shield inserted itself between them, repelling his blow, and Wilhelm cursed his old comrade's defense.

The other combatants were resisting Wilhelm with all their might, for this was what he had wished for. They couldn't hold back, precisely because they knew Theresia's heart and understood how Wilhelm felt. That was what had brought them together here in this display of resolution.

" "

Thoughts ran like electricity; hands and feet moved in deeply familiar patterns. In the space of a blink, Wilhelm's sword lashed out at Grimm three times. Two of them Grimm intercepted with his shield, but he was too late for the third, and with a grunt he sank to the ground.

One more. Just one more.

" "

Wilhelm's attention shifted away from the collapsed Grimm as he adjusted his grip on his sword and faced down Bordeaux.

Out of forty handpicked fighters, only the Mad Dog, Bordeaux Zergev, was left.

"Trias…!"

Carol held her arm and gritted her teeth as she watched this final showdown. Her long sword was broken, and Wilhelm was no longer so much as looking at her. Around her was a crowd of other warriors who had been similarly bested, all of them waiting anxiously for the denouement.

They had all been defeated by the Sword Devil: by his fearsome skills, his swordsmanship, and the fury of his passion.

She hated it. From the bottom of her heart, it pained her.

Or…it should have. Yet, Carol realized that what she felt was relief and even joy.

"So it is you, after all…"

The one who could make Theresia smile. The one who could grant her wish.

The one who could be stronger for Theresia than anyone else—was Wilhelm alone.

Though it was hard for her to admit, it made her impossibly happy, and that was a source of pain as well.

"Here we go, Wilhelm."

"I'm coming for you, Bordeaux."

The preliminary exchange was brief, the trading of thrusts and parries briefer; in less than an instant later, it was over.

With an earsplitting shout, Bordeaux stepped in, swinging his ax overhead before bringing it down. The blow was hard enough to split the earth, but the Sword Devil dodged it and stopped Bordeaux from moving further.

With no way to counterattack, Bordeaux laughed uproariously. There was a silver flash.

The sound of the impact echoed around the training field, the giant flung back easily by the blow.

He flew through the air, throwing up dust as he crashed to the ground.

When he finally stopped tumbling, his limbs akimbo, he put his palm to his face. And then—

"Ahhh, dammit! I can't believe I lost! I lost to a dumbass! Ahh, of all the…!"

The very last of the warriors gathered at the castle conceded his defeat to the Sword Devil.

The Sword Devil, who had magnificently demonstrated his ability with the blade.

Wilhelm looked over the fallen fighters: Grimm kneeling immobile, Bordeaux spread out and laughing madly, Carol frowning intensely. Then at last, he let out a long sigh.

His ragged breath tasted like blood in his mouth, and although he was sure no one had landed a solid hit on him, his whole body ached. The burden of this battle had gone beyond the usual; the Sword Devil had given his all for this fight. Now he looked to the observer's seat.

He raised his sword as if offering this victory to Jionis.

"Mm! Stunning, Trias! Your sword work and your passion alike are certainly… Hmm?"

As Jionis observed the scene before him, seemingly all but out of words, his face twisted. Wilhelm frowned at this and followed the king's gaze behind him.

There, he found someone he did not expect, someone who should not have been there. Wilhelm looked at the newcomer in wonderment, then groaned aloud.

"What…? What have you been doing, Wilhelm?"

At the entryway to the training ground stood a girl with red hair— Theresia van Astrea. Her sky-blue eyes took in the carnage before her; the sight of the toppled warriors seemed to trouble her. She didn't know what had happened, but it was obvious that it had been something far from ordinary.

"Astrea, presently the Sword Saint. That man there came directly to me requesting that you be released from the royal military. He said that he would use his blade to take away the place of the Sword Saint."

"Your Majesty Jionis…! Wilhelm, is that true?"

Jionis had explained the situation in lieu of the speechless Wilhelm. Theresia was surprised to see the king there, but her attention soon returned to Wilhelm.

He had wanted this to remain secret so that she wouldn't feel burdened by it. But here they were.

"Yeah. It's true." Wilhelm nodded.

"So that's why everyone here is— Even Carol!" Theresia said when she spotted her attendant among the fighters.

Carol hung her head as if she had been caught doing something wrong. The others, too, watched the conversation between the Sword Saint and the Sword Devil uncomfortably, from as much distance as they could manage.

Wilhelm, unable to predict what Theresia would do next, didn't move a muscle.

Would she be angry? Try to hit him? At the very least, he didn't expect her to be overjoyed. He knew her too well think she would be happy that this was all being handled without her.

Anger, then, he figured. But his prediction was only half-right. Theresia was angry. But…

"Your Majesty, why did you ever permit something so ridiculous?" Theresia demanded, her hands on her hips.

"What?"

The object of her anger was not Wilhelm, who had taken these actions without consulting her, nor with Carol, who had abetted him, but with Jionis, seated in the observer's position.

Her question could well have been construed as lèse-majesté, but so far from being upset, Jionis returned a wan smile at Theresia's threatening look and ran a hand through his golden hair.

"Well, er, I assure you, I thought it was silly myself. But that husband of yours was so serious about it, I found I couldn't quite tell him no…"

"Y-Your Majesty! He's not my husband yet! The way you— Really, I— Argh!"

"Theresia…?" Wilhelm broke into the bizarre conversation, calling to the red-faced woman.

"Uh! Yes!" she responded in a pinched tone, almost falling over herself as she turned around. Her face had achieved an entirely new level of redness. "Y-you don't understand. This is partly my fault for not properly communicating His Majesty's honorable decision, but His Majesty is partly to blame, too…"

"Start from the beginning. Slowly."

"Um, er, you see? Wilhelm, I'm, er, I'm elated that you wanted to free me from being the Sword Saint. I am. But…that problem was already figured out." Theresia linked her fingers together as she dropped this bombshell.

Wilhelm looked at her in complete bewilderment, and all present who weren't aware of the state of affairs similarly raised sounds of surprise, if they weren't too stunned to say anything at all.

Theresia smiled at all of them. Wilhelm, still speechless, came up to her.

"Er, uh, um, W-Wilhelm…dear?"

"Details."

"…The truth is, it came up when I spoke to His Majesty after the ceremony. H-he heard what you and I said to each other, and so…"

"The civil war was over," Jionis broke in. "The Sword Saint had more than done her part for this nation. So how could we do something so base as to pull apart a man and woman in love?" The king nodded repeatedly. Wilhelm noticed that the only person who didn't look remotely surprised was Miklotov, standing behind Jionis. He was almost certainly the only other person who had known all along.

To Wilhelm's glare of protest, Miklotov offered only a look of innocence.

"I did tell you," the slim man said, "to be sure to have a few conversations."

Hearing that, Wilhelm truly felt the strength drain out of him, crushed by the sense that he had brought all this on himself.

"Oh, Wil— Eek!" Theresia moved to support Wilhelm as he slumped down but found herself falling with him, down into his chest, until the two of them were both sitting on the ground. Theresia was dazed to feel great, strong arms around her.

"Urgh, you stink again… Wilhelm, you always smell this way."

"And you always smell like flowers. I even noticed it during the ceremony."

"I've always been your flower girl." Theresia smiled sweetly and cuddled deeper into Wilhelm's arms. It briefly crossed his mind to simply hold her like this forever.

"Ahh, young love is a sight to behold, but you're not forgetting something,

are you, Astrea?"

"Er, uh n-no, sire! I mean, what, sire?" Theresia suddenly remembered they had an audience and jumped to her feet. She tried to make herself as presentable as possible, but Jionis simply smiled and waved his hand.

"The condition I set for your release from the role of Sword Saint. Do you recall?"

"Oh, er…" Theresia sounded as if the king had hit a particularly vulnerable spot.

Wilhelm, following Theresia's example, climbed slowly to his feet.

"What is it?" he asked. "What impossible task did he set you?" "Er, well, it's…"

"If it's too hard for you, I'll do it. You can trust me with that much."

"Really?! Oh, but wait. One person can't do it—we need two."

Theresia was rather inarticulate, blushing as she sputtered a series of ers and ums. The entire scene startled those around her as they witnessed a side of the Sword Saint none of them had seen before. It was understandable, since they had only ever thought of her as an indefatigable fighter. Wilhelm himself felt a certain annoyance at sharing this dear side of Theresia with the rest of the world.

Hence, he finally grabbed her by the shoulders. "Out with it! What is it!"

"—! H-His Majesty said that as long as I'm sure to become your wife, I can quit being the Sword Saint!" Theresia finally exclaimed, blushing and almost tearful.

" "

Wilhelm stood speechless as what she had said reached his eardrums, then made it to his brain, and finally worked its way into his understanding.

Theresia watched him with anxious eyes.

"What does that…?"

"I believe His Majesty's thinking is this," Miklotov said from beside the observer's place. "It would be perfectly awful to force a woman who's going to be a good wife and mother to wield a sword she doesn't want."

Wilhelm finally let out a breath. Theresia shook her head. "I kept meaning to tell you at the house, but…there just wasn't a chance."

"Because we were arguing. But even so, I can't believe…"

It never would have occurred to him that Theresia might be released from military service on the condition that she get married.

The Lugunican royal family was renowned for being a bit soft on their people, but Wilhelm had never realized just how soft.

"Ahem! A fine solution, wouldn't you say?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. Profoundly wise."

Wilhelm glared at the self-satisfied king and the fawning prime minister's assistant, then turned to Theresia. Her eyes were damp, and she didn't speak a word as she waited to hear what he would say.

She was afraid he might refuse her or push her away. How silly.

"Wilhelm Astrea," he murmured.

"Huh…?" Theresia was taken aback.

"The Trias house is gone. Astrea will be my new family name, won't it?" The smile on his face was thin as passing mist. But it was enough to make Theresia's wide eyes even wider.

"So you're…saying yes?"

"What, you thought I would say no? What's wrong with you?"

"I mean! It's so sudden to talk about marriage, and…!"

"There is no one besides you. A bit later or a little sooner, it doesn't matter."

Theresia's mouth hung open at this blunt response, and a moment after, huge tears cascaded down her cheeks. Startled, Wilhelm drew Theresia into his chest, wet face and all.

"So you'll…you'll make me your bride?"

"Flower girl, bride—it's hardly any different. Don't worry so much, dummy."

"That's…kind of a stretch." Theresia laughed, her red eyes and nose and forehead still pressed into him.

Wilhelm, though, was surprised to realize as he looked at her that it didn't seem like such a stretch at all. She had owned him from the moment he had first met her. He couldn't even picture taking anyone else in marriage.

"…Wilhelm van Astrea."

"What?"

Still cradled in his arms, Theresia smiled just for him. "Your new name would be Wilhelm van Astrea. The name van was given to the lineage of Sword Saints by the person who first established it… And you are the one who took my sword from me." Wilhelm van Astrea.

He snorted quietly.

"That's not bad."

I mean, having the same surname as you.

He didn't say that last part out loud. Instead, the Sword Devil welcomed the woman who was no longer the Sword Saint as his wife; held her to himself with all his love, tenderly stroking her shimmering red hair.

THE LOVE BALLAD OF THE SWORD DEVIL

The Wedding Day

A pleasant, warm wind welcomed Wilhelm the moment he set foot in the garden. The breeze offered him the sweet, nose-tickling scent of the flowers, along with a panoply of leaves, before it was swept up into the clear sky.

The garden, reflecting the propensities of its owner, was abloom with seasonal flowers. There were large and small buds of every kind, all of them are arranged in their own designated places to beautiful effect.

As he stood looking at all the gorgeous flowers, he had a thought. The garden's owner, presently standing in the center of the space enjoying the scenery, was more flowerlike than any of the actual blossoms.

"Theresia." Wilhelm put a stop to his ruminations and instead called out to the woman.

She turned, holding her red hair against the wind. Her blue eyes met Wilhelm's, and a smile so dear to him crept across her lips, blinding him to any other flowers in the place.

"Wilhelm."

The sound of his name brought the enraptured young man back to his senses. He raised a hand as if to cover his momentary reverie. "Yeah," he said brusquely. "I just returned."

"Welcome back." His curt greeting only made her regard him with even more fondness. These few words they shared were enough to fill Wilhelm's heart with warmth. He wanted to simply lose himself in this feeling. If only he could…

"So were you able to understand the whole story?" she asked. She continued smiling, but her words scattered his wish like so much gossamer.

" "

"Wilhelm?"

Her question had caused his face to tighten, a change not lost on Theresia. The way she then said his name left him with a suspicion he couldn't quite shake. At some point, her smile disappeared, too. Wilhelm sighed, feeling her gaze like a piercing sword.

"…It might be useless, but there's something I want to say first."

"…It might be useless, but I'll listen to what you have to say first."

"Don't get mad."

"I think that depends on what you're going to say, doesn't it?"

With his defensive gambit thwarted, there was a moment of silence between the two of them. But it wasn't like Wilhelm to delay the inevitable.

He steeled himself and opened his mouth.

"I dragged the brass into coming and talking to me directly. I told them this was tyranny."

"Uh-huh. Complete injustice. And?"

"They decided to double my patrol assignment. I'm sorry."

"Why on earth would they do that?!"

Theresia's mouth hung open; she grabbed Wilhelm by the lapels and shook him violently. Her thin arms nonetheless managed to push him around quite capably.

"I told you not to get mad," Wilhelm said irritably.

"Of course I'm going to get mad! I mean…! After all—"

Theresia couldn't finish her sentence but gave him a shove in the chest. Then her sky-blue eyes filled with tears, and she shouted,

"Our wedding is in three days!!"

Theresia's yelling startled the birds that had been placidly viewing the garden. Beneath the sound of dozens of wings stood a man and a woman looking at each other—two people who had come together after much strife and now found themselves amid new troubles—the Sword Saint and the Sword Devil, husband- and wife-to-be.

—There once was a long, long war, one that history records as the Demihuman War.

It was a civil conflict that tore apart the Dragonfriend Kingdom of Lugunica for nine years, and it was brought to an end by a single young woman, the Sword Saint.

In respect of her achievements, the kingdom hailed her as a hero, but the dedication and swordsmanship of a young man called the Sword Devil put a stop to this.

Through many a twist and turn, the Sword Saint eventually became nothing more than a normal girl, was wed to the Sword Devil, and they lived happily ever after. And everyone gave their blessing to them…

—Ahem. The world is not so kind a place as to let a story conclude so neatly.

On the one hand, there was the Sword Saint, born to a long line of Sword Saints, who wielded her blade on behalf of the kingdom.

On the other, there was the Sword Devil, from a house destroyed during the war, who abandoned his unit when the fighting was fiercest, and who ultimately wrecked the ceremony celebrating the armistice.

Wilhelm's past as someone who had abandoned knighthood and commendations, throwing away his honors, put him in a difficult position; it presented a variety of hurdles to their marriage. But the bond between them, along with the help of those around them, enabled them to overcome these challenges. And now the wedding was fast approaching, a day when the whole nation would at long last celebrate the joining of Wilhelm and Theresia as husband and wife.

"And now? Now they say the groom is going to miss the wedding!"

Theresia, red faced, stomped on the carpeted floor of the apartments, her anger from the garden in no way diminished. Wilhelm tried to ignore her, letting out a vexed sigh.

"Oh! Oh! That sigh—you think I'm just a lot of trouble! This concerns us both, so use your head, Wilhelm! This is awful; do you understand?!"

"Look at you, crowing over one sigh… And I don't think you're trouble.

Only that you're noisy."

"There! That right there is proof that you're not taking this seriously! Oh, I can't believe you!"

Wilhelm threw up his hands, seeing that nothing he said was likely to do anything but make things worse for him. At the moment, Theresia was like an adorable bomb; one careless touch could set off an explosion.

"You finally got your knighthood back, and all the naysayers were finally coming around, too. Why would deployment orders come down to Zergev Squadron right before our wedding ceremony? There's a whole army of other units who could handle a job like this!" After the first eruption had run its course, Theresia finally returned to the question at hand.

Wilhelm crossed his arms, glad to return to the actual problem, and said, "I told you. There aren't a lot of units at the castle right now that are available for deployment. Squadrons from the army have been sent all over the country in the name of rebuilding after the war. We might be the only ones free at the moment who can tackle a mission like this…so the baton's passed to us."

"That can't be anything but an excuse! I'm sure somebody's done this simply to make your life difficult… In fact, I'm sure it's my father!"

"I'd like to say you're being paranoid, but…"

"See? Even you think so!" Theresia smacked her hands together and puffed out her cheeks angrily.

Theresia's father, Veltol Astrea, was the current head of the Astrea family and would soon be Wilhelm's father-in-law. Wilhelm had of course gone to see to his fiancée's parents before the wedding, and the tension of that interview was difficult to forget. Veltol had attempted to uncover Wilhelm's true character and reveal any fault with an immense number of vehement questions; Veltol was not a bad person, but he was naturally protective of Theresia.

So protective, in fact, that the suggestion that this latest assignment was a ploy of his to interfere with the wedding was all too plausible.

"I guess that would mean he used the generations' worth of weight that belongs to the Astrea name to influence the country's military leaders…" Wilhelm mused. But at the same time, he wondered whether the man would actually be that desperate to scuttle his daughter's wedding.

Theresia, however, looked at the ground, her long lashes covering her eyes. "My older brothers, Thames and Carlan, and my younger brother, Cajiress… All my siblings died in the war. I'm all my father has left. I'm sure he's just worried."

" "

"Still, he's got a lot of nerve interfering with his daughter's happiness!

We have to fight him!"

"We did fight him, and the result was even more patrol duty than before.

They're not playing fair."

"S-so you were willing to win my hand through combat, but you can't bring yourself to face my father?"

She reddened at her own use of the word win, but nonetheless Theresia looked tauntingly at Wilhelm. The Sword Devil frowned.

"Getting serious in order to win you over and doing it to shut up your dad are two different things. Believe me, I wish it were as easy as just chopping him up…"

"My father is about average with the sword…or even a little less, in my opinion. My uncle…my father's younger brother, was the Sword Saint before me, and my father was quick to give up on the path of the blade…"

"In other words, beating him in a sword fight wouldn't carry much meaning. Plus—"

There, he stopped, as he imagined what really lay behind what was most likely Veltol's strategy.

Wilhelm had lost his family and the war, abandoned the military, and had even thrown away his status as a knight. He hardly expected the House of Astrea to welcome him with open arms. Truth be told, he hadn't made the best impression when he met her family, either, and the permission for this marriage had been largely formal. If Wilhelm had to guess, he would say Veltol was testing him, to see if Wilhelm was worthy of his daughter.

It was difficult to swallow losing all his time off immediately before the wedding, and then being made to work even more when he brought it up.

"But when you go looking for a showdown, you can't back off when you find one."

"A showdown?"

"If this really is your dad's doing, then what it is, is a challenge. It ticks me off that it isn't a sword battle, but everyone has their own way of fighting.

I'll simply have to live with it."

They would engage in combat, not with the blade but in their commitment to Theresia. The challenge seemed to be: If you want to win Theresia, surely you can at least handle this.

And if such a paltry test was all it took to prove his worth, Wilhelm was perfectly happy to meet it.

"I won you from the Sword God. You better believe I can win you from your father."

"Oh, er… Well, uh…"

Hearing this so directly caused Theresia to forget all her anger as she surrendered herself to embarrassment. She looked shyly at the ground but eventually found her voice again. "…Can I trust that in three days, you'll make me your bride?"

"Take all that energy you spend worrying about me and use it to get yourself ready. And by the way, don't let anyone but me see that vulnerable, blushing face of yours."

"Vulnerable?" She looked shocked; maybe she had never realized this about herself.

" "

Wilhelm frowned at how incredibly charming her expression was. He hid his reaction with a playful push of the girl's forehead.

"Eeep!"

The Sword Saint, who in three days would be the bride of the Sword Devil, gave a cute little yelp.

Zergev Squadron had an unparalleled record during the Demi-human War, as did its leader, the Mad Dog, Bordeaux Zergev.

Bordeaux, who had faced down a lifetime's worth of battles, had been Wilhelm's superior for a very long time, and Wilhelm owed him a great deal.

Not that either of them had ever admitted as much aloud.

The nation's army, including Zergev Squadron, was currently undergoing a major reorganization after the conclusion of the war, and as part of this, Bordeaux had been promoted from captain to join the brass at headquarters. As such, the captaincy of Zergev Squadron was vacant, and the tradition was to promote from within.

"…And someone out there must have a screw loose, because they want me to be captain." Wilhelm grimaced. He was standing in the square just in front of the Lugunica Castle gates, at the very center of the royal capital, in front of more than a hundred squadron members assembled there.

Tradition is tradition, Grimm informed him. Nothing you can do.

"There's something wrong with a tradition like that. How does a guy who abandoned the squadron get promoted to lead? It'll look bad if we don't pick our leaders fair and square."

The man who crashed a royal ceremony and sword-fought the Sword Saint into being his wife is concerned about looking bad?

"Aw, shaddup. Or…stop writing, or something."

The object of this scalding, teeth-sucking rebuke from Wilhelm was his hurriedly speaking—or rather, hurriedly scrawling—old war buddy Grimm Fauzen, now in the unaccustomed garb of the squadron's second-incommand.

He had known Wilhelm almost since the beginning of the civil war, and although he could no longer speak, the two of them continued to communicate on a nearly telepathic level. As captain and vice-captain, they were going to be fine, and that irritated Wilhelm.

The fact that Grimm seemed to be enjoying Wilhelm's discomfort at the situation bothered him, too.

"I think Vice-Captain Grimm hit the nail on the head. At least, no one around here seems to be upset about you being captain. That ceremony proved your strength—and your balls."

"Careful I don't give you a personal demonstration, Conwood."

"Oooh, I'm shaking!"

The banter came from a long-standing member of Zergev Squadron, Conwood Melahau. He wasn't particularly distinguished in combat, but even Wilhelm had noticed his conduct. A quick wit served one both on and off the battlefield.

There were many who, like Conwood, had known Wilhelm as part of

Zergev Squadron from two years ago or more. Captain he may have been, but Wilhelm found himself commanding a minimum of authority among so many who had known him for so long. All the worse if they had seen him at his youngest and most unpolished.

"A captain we know, a vice-captain we know… Some reorg."

The reborn Zergev Squadron consisted of many veteran members, including Vice-Captain Grimm and Captain Wilhelm. Though Bordeaux was no longer with them, his name would remain.

It's so that the names of all the people we fought with live on, right?

"I can practically hear Pivot sighing… Putting them to work even after they're dead."

Grimm smiled ironically, but Wilhelm ignored him and looked at the assembled troops.

Zergev Squadron was going to sortie from the capital to patrol nearby towns and villages. Their objective was to restore the public safety that had disappeared during the conflict and to put an end to any plotters who might be looking to upset the armistice. It was a breeze compared to anything they had done during the war, yet the soldiers of Zergev Squadron stood with tense faces, eyes ablaze with true passion.

"Even if everything goes according to plan, this patrol will take almost exactly three days… We'll have to come back right on the captain and Lady Theresia's wedding day. You know what? When I heard these orders, I thought brass had gone insane."

"The key to this mission will be how much time we waste on Liphus Highway. Everyone, make sure you stay inside the wind repel blessing."

"Hate to say it, but if your land dragon collapses on the way, you're gonna get left behind. We can't have anyone slowing us down on this trip. I think

everyone here agrees that's the right thing to do."

"Yeah, for sure. If anything happens to me, don't you dare rescue me…!"

Listening to the soldiers confer among themselves as they discussed their plans in detail, Wilhelm arched an eyebrow. Why were they so intent on this? It was a fact that he had to be back in time for the wedding, but that was nothing more than a personal problem of his own. Ultimately, it had no impact on the rest of them…

"Just shows how concerned they all are about this," a familiar, hoarse voice said. Wilhelm turned toward the voice and saw a craggy-faced giant approaching from the direction of the castle. The man was well built, sporting close-cropped blue hair: Bordeaux Zergev.

"It's high time you learned to pay attention to what's going on around you. You're the leader of a squadron now, and you're going to be a husband soon. Can't get away with only thinking about yourself, if you want to be good at either." He barked a laugh.

Wilhelm merely shrugged. "What are you doing here so suddenly? I thought you were too busy for all this."

"Gah-ha-ha. I'm busy all right. But this is the first mission of the new

Zergev Squadron. As its former commander, the least I can do is see it off." With a stout, hardy laugh, Bordeaux gave Wilhelm a pat on the shoulder that felt more like a punch. The Sword Devil wobbled from the impact, and the giant said, more quietly, "Besides, the enlisted men aren't the only ones who think this assignment is an abuse of authority. There's no way the higher-ups don't know when the Sword Saint and the Sword Devil are getting married.

This smells like trouble, and you'd better watch out."

"I'm still not used to you giving me advice like that."

"Status is as status does. I'm learning to use my head, believe it or not… And that talker you recommended to me the other day is surprisingly helpful.

It was the right call, bugging them to let him out of jail."

"Oh, Olfe. He's a philanderer and a con man, but that doesn't mean he can't be useful."

Bordeaux was talking about the fraudster whose acquaintance Wilhelm had made in the Prison Tower, the one who had advised him about how to resolve his Theresia problem. Wilhelm, making good on his promise to intercede on Olfe's behalf, had recommended him to Bordeaux as a potential helper. Against all expectations, it seemed Olfe was indeed proving worthwhile.

"It helps to have a sharp guy like him around. I think it might be a good idea someday to set up an organization that works the way he does. And

when we do, I'll call it Six-Tongue, in his honor."

"He's so proud of how many tongues he has," Wilhelm said. "Did he find anything out for you?"

"No details. Just that this is probably interference by certain parties who don't think much of you and Lady Theresia getting married. Any guesses?"

"…One certain enough to make my head hurt."

He could hardly come out and say that the bride's father was the culprit, but his suspicions had deepened into near certainty.

Bordeaux frowned at his response, but Wilhelm shook his head and said, "Don't sweat it. They want a fight? Well, so do I. You've got nothing to worry about."

"You think this is about winning and losing? I'm not sure myself, but all right."

Bordeaux's refusal to get caught up in niggling details was both one of his weapons and one of his strongest features. He concluded their conversation with a gruff "Give 'em hell," then went to encourage the men.

He's a real captain. Grimm smiled.

"A real former captain, but I agree." Wilhelm looked toward the castle gate. "Sheesh. When Bordeaux's had his fun, we'll set out."

There were more than a hundred people in the squadron all told, along with nearly twenty dragon carriages to carry them. Everything was lined up and ready to go, and the soldiers were restless. Wilhelm intended to get moving as soon as Bordeaux was done making the rounds. But even as the thought was crossing his mind…

"Wilhelm!"

…he heard his name from the direction of the gate and looked over. He saw a young woman running down the slope in little mincing steps, breathing quickly.

"Theresia? Why are you here?"

"Thank goodness! I'm so glad I got here before you left."

All but ignoring the shocked Wilhelm, Theresia bowed politely to the guard at the gate and entered the plaza. The castle gate, that most crucial of defenses, had been breached without so much as a shout.

"…I know everyone recognizes you and all," Wilhelm said, "but when has a guard ever let a 'retired' girl into the castle so easily?"

"The guards all know exactly who I am. I think I may even know them better than you do—hah!" Theresia winked at Wilhelm, who regarded her dubiously.

They had already said their good-byes when he left the mansion. He had sworn to be back before their wedding in three days' time, then departed quickly so he wouldn't be tempted to linger. And now it was all for naught.

Such partings became harder the longer you spent on them. Maybe he still didn't realize just how much this woman thought of him.

"Come on, Wilhelm. You're scowling again. I told you to stop that."

"Well, it's your fault."

"How is it my fault? I can't believe you would say that. Oh, oh! But listen…"

Theresia held out something she had been hiding behind her back. Wilhelm, still frowning, took it: It was a box wrapped in bright yellow cloth.

"What's this?"

"I made it for you, since you're going so far away. Y-y-you know what they call…a lunch packed with love?"

"You're so embarrassed you can barely bring yourself to say it," Wilhelm remarked, testing the weight of the package in his hands. Theresia had turned red halfway through her explanation. It seemed too heavy to be something she had concocted on such short notice, and Wilhelm was privately pleased. Partly to have something to eat, of course, but also because Theresia had cared enough to make this.

"So, uh, don't you, er, have anything to say?" Theresia said.

"What would I say?"

"For crying out loud! I went out of my way to make a nice lunch for you, didn't I? How about some heartfelt thanks or something?"

"Heartfelt thanks, huh?" He paused thoughtfully. "I'll pretend it's you while I'm eating it."

"Argh, I don't know how to feel about that…!"

Wilhelm had considered his words carefully, but judging by Theresia's reaction, they had been the wrong ones.

Regardless, it didn't change the fact that he was happy. That much seemed to have gotten across to her, and Theresia managed a half smile at Wilhelm's clumsy answer.

"It's okay," she said. "I wasn't expecting much. It's no big deal. If you can accept that meal in the same spirit I made it, that's enough."

"Great. So why the sudden impulse to make me a 'lunch with love'?"

"I can't believe you can say that so readily…!"

It wasn't just Theresia's expression that could change quickly but the whole color of her face. She went from red to pale to ghostly white; finally, she settled on a delicate cough.

"The army isn't exactly known for serving gourmet food, right?" she said.

"Plus, Zergev Squadron will be on the move, and it's full of men besides.

Call this my one tiny act of resistance in your defense."

"We've got Grimm to handle our food. And even I can cook."

"Surely you don't expect Grimm alone to cook for a hundred soldiers. And as for the blackened meat and boiled-to-death vegetables you serve, I don't even consider that food."

"Hrk…"

"Anyway, I wanted to do something for you. If there was anything I could do to help you have even a little more energy to get back in time for our wedding…then I wanted to do it! That's all."

Realizing that she was starting to talk in circles, Theresia looked away partway through her speech. It meant she missed the change in Wilhelm's eyes.

" "

She didn't notice the way he had to suppress his desire to embrace her that very moment, to lose himself in her vulnerable sweetness.

It was a close call. But he had to consider the place they were in, and station was station. This wasn't even about setting a bad example for his subordinates. A fetter that Wilhelm had never concerned himself with now stayed his hand. Had it saved him, or had it held him back? His feelings were complicated.

"I knew moving up the ranks wouldn't do me any favors…"

"Really? I'm happy that so many people are acknowledging you."

"Do you do these things on purpose?"

"—?"

Theresia stood there surprised, totally unaware of how adorable she was. Wilhelm's shoulders slumped. The Sword Devil belatedly realized that all eyes were on him. Bordeaux had finished firing up the troops, and the entire squadron was now watching the couple's exchange. They seemed to be genuinely enjoying the banter between the Sword Devil and the Sword Saint.

"…What are you all looking at?"

"Aw, nothin'." Conwood grinned. "Just thinking, I know it's hard to leave true love behind, but maybe it's about time to move out. You and your old lady can spend allll the time you want together when we're done here, after the wedding. For now, our captain's a bachelor."

"Old lady? Ugh… I think it's a little soon for that…!"

A chuckle ran through the rest of the squadron at Conwood's teasing. Wilhelm clucked his tongue at being the butt of the laughter, but Theresia, hands clapped to her reddening face, didn't look completely displeased.

Now she took a small breath and stepped out in front of Zergev Squadron. "Er, thank you for giving me a few minutes of your time before you set out. I somehow never quite thought the day would come when I would see you leaving without me this way. And maybe I should apologize for that, too."

" "

Theresia looked embarrassed and guilty, but the squad remained silent. Until a scant three months ago, Theresia and Zergev Squadron had frequently fought side by side in the civil war. She was the Sword Saint: She had accompanied them on expeditions, and with her blade had done more than anyone else on the front lines.

And now Zergev Squadron was going on patrol, and Theresia was staying behind in the capital. It would have been unthinkable during the war, and perhaps Theresia herself felt somewhat abandoned.

But—

"Eep!"

"Why apologize, dummy? This is the way things work."

Wilhelm gave her a smack on the back of the head, then stepped out in front of her. Before Theresia could protest while rubbing her head, the Sword Devil made an audible sound with the heel of his boot. In response, the soldiers of Zergev Squadron clacked their heels against the ground as well, straightening their ranks.

"Wow…"

"Fighting and defense are a soldier's duty," Wilhelm said. "I told you, Theresia. You stay here, behind me and the rest of the soldiers, and tend to your flowers or something. That's a civilian's duty."

"Having a housewife sounds pretty good, eh, Cap?" Conwood teased, to which Grimm added, He's got you there! and the entire squadron burst into laughter again.

Wilhelm, too, laughed begrudgingly, and Theresia watched him with wide eyes.

" "

Just for a moment, those great blue eyes came dangerously close to tears. Theresia quickly brushed them away with her sleeve, forcing a smile to her face. A kind smile that could instantly captivate the hearts of even the Sword Devil, Wilhelm, and all his mighty men.

Still smiling, Theresia bowed her head deeply and said, "Thank you all.

Everyone, please take care of Wilhelm for me while you're gone!" Those were the last words anyone said before they moved out.

"Gah-ha-ha-ha! What a thing for our Wilhelm, Miss Theresia. There couldn't have been a better way to send him off. I can't believe he's so whipped already."

"'Whipped'? Please. He's not the kind who can easily be confined or controlled. I sometimes wonder if I'm not the one who's got him in such a tight grip."

"A lack of self-awareness is a sin of its own. But either way, you've got your duty to fulfill as the Sword Devil's wife."

Such was the conversation that ensued when Zergev Squadron had left Theresia and Bordeaux behind at last. The two of them shared the kind of bond that is forged between people who have survived battle together. On the one hand, there was Bordeaux, who had been pulled from the front lines on account of his promotion; on the other, Theresia, who had effectively retired: Their respective positions also gave them much in common.

"Master Bordeaux, don't you feel lonely watching Wilhelm and the others go?"

"Lonely. What a sweet word. I admit there's a little twinge…or maybe a big twinge, not being able to just run off with them like I used to." Bordeaux looked down at his hands, which didn't hold the familiar battle-ax, and his voice dropped a bit. Soon, though, he formed two fists. "But look. The battlefield might change, but I'm still me. I have my responsibilities. There are people who have been expecting and hoping I'd move up in the world. I'm glad I can wish and hope for things. Just like you have your hopes for

Wilhelm, Miss Theresia."

"I… Yes, I feel the same way." She looked out at where Wilhelm and his soldiers had gone.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the burly arms cross. "By the way," Bordeaux said, "as for that thing you asked me to handle on this new battlefield…about whoever sent Zergev Squadron on this random mission…"

"I'm sorry to lean on you. It's just that right now, I can't think of anyone else I can count on."

"Don't sweat it. We're talking about a wedding between two of my oldest comrades. Ain't like I've got no dog in this fight… I'm just not completely sure if this is something I should tell you." Bordeaux scratched his short hair, looking pained. Theresia narrowed her eyes, unable to quell a bad feeling about whatever might be making him hesitate to speak.

"It's…all right. Please, speak freely. Don't cushion it." "You sure?"

"Yes. Don't spare me."

"…It looks like the one behind these orders is the House of Astrea. In other words, your father."

The pain was evident in Bordeaux's voice. Theresia closed her eyes.

The explosive aura that could suddenly be felt in the air was enough to make every hair on every guard at the gate stand on end. Even Bordeaux, with his long combat experience, found himself preparing for death.

But the Sword Saint, the source of this incredible presence, quickly got it under control. "I-I'm sorry! I lost my head! It was an accident! Don't worry!" Bowing to the startled guards, Theresia smacked her forehead with her palm as if to emphasize how repentant she was. It made a cute little bonk, and Bordeaux started laughing at the incongruity of the sound with this great sword fighter.

"Miss Theresia…I think you and Wilhelm both had an inkling, right?"

"Yes, well. I didn't want to believe it. Even now, I wish it weren't true."

Her suspicions had been confirmed. When she learned that it was in fact her own house, her very father who had tried to mess with her wedding, a storm began to rage within Theresia's heart and mind.

In any event, though, she now knew the identity of her foe. And if Wilhelm was going off to a decisive battle…

"Then I have to fight, too…"

"M-Miss Theresia? I'm sure I don't have to point out that if you pick up your sword, Wilhelm will be unhappy, right? Er, and I wouldn't be so thrilled, either."

"Oh, by 'fight,' I mean 'talk.' It was a figure of speech…an emotional thing."

Nonetheless, Theresia, feeling much different now, had clenched her fist. Bordeaux acknowledged all this with great unease.

Theresia had charged Bordeaux with investigating this case, never mentioning to Wilhelm that she had done so. She had every intention of settling things with her father herself. Bordeaux fervently hoped that there wouldn't be too much violence.

"If you need an intermediary, I wouldn't be opposed…" he said.

"It's all right," Theresia answered. "I know you're busy, Master Bordeaux, and I would hate to trouble you. Besides, this problem concerns me and Wilhelm, and I want to settle it properly as husband and w-w-wife!

As husband and wife. Yes," she managed, her face red.

She bowed deeply to Bordeaux, who couldn't quite shake his concern; then she darted away from the plaza.

It was clear even as she walked away: She was planning to find Veltol Astrea, her own father, and settle this matter.

"Nothing is ever easy with those two," Bordeaux muttered. Feeling as if he had aged noticeably, he headed back to the castle to work. He had only one prayer in his heart—that the wedding would go off without a hitch in three days' time.

The order for Zergev Squadron on this mission was to patrol the highways and byways around the capital. The military had already been deployed to the so-called five great cities of the nation to help rebuild and promote public safety after the war, so this patrol would mostly cover the smaller towns and villages on these roads.

It was not a mission the elite Zergev Squadron would normally be assigned. All the more reason to think that this particular assignment was a ploy by someone behind the scenes.

And you think it's Lady Theresia's father causing trouble? Don't you think you're being paranoid?

"You haven't met the man. If you had, you'd know I'm not kidding around here… Not that I don't understand why he'd be overprotective."

Wilhelm pursed his lips at Grimm's suggestion as the two of them rode side by side on the land dragons. His old brother in arms smiled, then wrote a reply on his paper.

With the wind repel blessing, there was no bumping or noise as they traveled along. Even so, Wilhelm was privately impressed that Grimm could write so readily while riding on the back of a dragon.

I'm used to it.

"…I didn't say anything." Wilhelm frowned, unhappy to have his thoughts read so easily. Grimm squinted at him, which caused Wilhelm to growl, "What? You don't look like you're paying attention. Don't come crying to me if you fall off your dragon."

I was just feeling a little emotional, what with your wedding in three days. You've really grown up.

Grimm really did look deeply moved, enough to stop Wilhelm from wanting to snap at him further. The seven years they had known each other encompassed Wilhelm's entire time with the military. To say nothing of his "lost" two years. His acquaintance with Bordeaux and Zergev Squadron was just as long, and even Wilhelm was capable of occasionally experiencing a genuine emotion or two.

"…You wanna know the truth?" Wilhelm said. "I was sure you were going to die ten minutes after I met you."

I'm sure that's true. I myself never believed I'd survive the civil war. Even now I think there must've been some mistake, that I used up my life's supply of luck.

"Your life's supply, huh?"

Wilhelm was not fond of looking at life as being at the whim of luck, good or bad. Especially not when it came to the battlefield—a place of life and death, where men were forged in the flames of combat.

The only thing that influenced survival in combat was what you had done in your life up to that point. He believed it should be sword against sword, magic against magic, life against life. A younger Wilhelm might have laid into Grimm on this point. But now, he thought twice. Why? Because of a certain meeting.

Because he had met a woman who made him think he had used up his own life's supply of good luck.

Grimm offered a piece of paper to the silent Wilhelm, with just one sentence. You've gone soft.

"Screw off." Having been easily read once again, Wilhelm angrily shoved the paper away.

" "

Satisfied with this response, Grimm focused on something new. He pulled a short metal stick from his saddle and beat it against a piece of metal attached to his thigh. The resulting clamor was his way of communicating with those around him. In response to the sound of metal on metal, Conwood came up alongside from behind them.

"You called?" he said.

I want to go over the patrol route again. Time is especially tight on this mission.

"That's for damn sure." Conwood gave a pointed nod, then looked at Wilhelm. Wilhelm maintained a blunt silence, evidence that even the Sword Devil could learn his lesson.

"We can't have Lady Theresia standing at the altar all by her lonesome. Believe me, the whole squad is behind you on that. And that little scene before we left only made the troops even more eager."

"That's enough of that. Hurry up and get down to business." Wilhelm gave Conwood a prickly stare. The other man pulled a map from his bag and opened it. It showed the area around the capital, with their route marked in red ink and circles around their destinations.

"First, we'll go down Liphas to Furoul," Conwood said. "Then we'll head west, through Milgre, Bonobo, and Cramlin, before getting back to the capital. Forced march."

"That's two days just counting travel," Wilhelm said. "Including patrolling, I'm not sure three days will be enough."

"That's why we're going to fly down those roads as fast as we can—so three days will be enough. We've agreed to leave anyone who falls behind.

The men are prepared to die rather than slow us down."

"This isn't an assignment to die for…"

Wilhelm might have taken Conwood's words as a joke were it not for the man's face and the conversations he'd overheard before they left. Regardless, it was true that they would be trying to keep travel time to the absolute minimum.

"I think if, in addition to that, we finish our patrols in each town as quickly as possible, we'll make it," Conwood said.

"Can we live with that?" Wilhelm asked. "The whole point is to improve public safety, right? If we go simply to say that we technically went, then why even bother?"

"Not a problem. The towns on our route are practically on top of the capital… They're probably the safest smaller settlements in the country right now, if I say so myself. They just need to know that if there's any trouble, the big, scary Sword Devil will rush right out to deal with it."

It matters that people see us. That's the point. Grimm nodded as if to emphasize that there was no reason to worry.

It somehow felt to Wilhelm like a very broad interpretation of their assignment, but if they were too diligent, they would certainly run out of time.

This was the compromise his men had reached in weighing time against duty.

"Is this another sign that I've gone soft…or that I've gotten too clever for my own good?"

This is another thing you have to do for Lady Theresia.

"You think that's a way to get me to agree to anything, don't you…?" Grimm was right, though, that this logic quickly brought Wilhelm around.

"At this speed, and sticking to only what's strictly required for patrols, we should be back in the capital in two and a half days. With half a day's time, you should even have a few minutes to get ready for the ceremony. And then everyone lives happily ever after."

"I sure hope so…"

Conwood sounded even brighter than usual, maybe in an attempt to relieve the anxiety they felt. Wilhelm, however, found the whole thing difficult to swallow. He harbored a private worry he couldn't quite get rid of. Grateful as he was that the soldiers were so completely committed to getting him home in time for his wedding, he knew Veltol was behind this.

I don't think he's going to let me get away so easily, he thought.

This isn't like you. Are you really that worried?

"I'm fighting an enemy I can't reach with my sword. I might as well be swinging a stick."

Wilhelm's expression was dark, and Grimm held out some paper to him. I understand. I hope you'll feel better. We should be able to pretty much just pass through our first stop, Furoul.

Wilhelm's eyes widened as he read the scrap. "—? What, do you know something?"

Furoul is where I was born. I have a certain amount of sway with the residents. That should help us wrap up the patrol there in a short time.

Wilhelm raised an eyebrow. "Huh, that's news to me. I didn't realize you were from so close."

Grimm gave him a complicated smile. Wilhelm knew that expression. It was the look of a man who had been disloyal to his parents. It looked just like himself: a man who'd fled his home after a fight with his brothers, someone who had never had a chance to apologize.

"Everyone's got a history," Conwood deadpanned. "It's not like this is a foreign concept to us."

"Is this whole squadron made up of runaways? Some elite unit this is," Wilhelm said, touched by their generosity of spirit. His heart grew ever so slightly lighter; he had been blessed with excellent companions. Not that he would admit so aloud.

Thanks. Anyway, let me handle Furoul.

Just as Grimm was affirming that he would handle things, the faint outline of some buildings became visible down the road. It was Furoul, the inn town they had just been talking about. Their first stop and a test of just how good a talker Grimm was…

"Huh?"

Just as the thought was crossing his mind, Wilhelm was stunned speechless by what he saw of the town. So, too, was the rest of Zergev Squadron.

The reason was a gigantic banner hung over the entrance to the town reading, WELCOME! THE TRIUMPHANT RETURN OF THE GREAT HERO FROM OUR TOWN! The entire population appeared to be present to greet them.

A great cheer went up; the sound of people who recognized a prodigal son come back to them after having won for himself a position of authority in the national military. There was no question of whom these people were welcoming.

"…Hey," Wilhelm said to Grimm, "you really think you can convince them to keep this short?"

He was speaking on behalf of all of them; the entire squadron looked at Grimm at once. Grimm started to sweat. With a trembling hand, he scrawled out, I'll try.

It was a far cry from the bold claims he'd been making a few minutes earlier.

"Well, I'll be! To think the good-for-nothing spawn of the innkeeper would come back to us so high in the world!"

It's been a long time. I'm sorry. There are so many things to talk about, but…

"Grimm, you're something else! Me, I ran away from the army almost as soon as I joined and came back home…"

I don't blame you. The battlefield is a terrifying place.

"Saaay, Grimm. I know a sweet young lass you might like. Wanna talk to her before you go?"

I'm sorry! I'm already seeing someone…

And so it went, until Zergev Squadron was finally able to extricate itself from Furoul.

They had allotted two hours for their patrol in this town. By the good offices of Grimm, the hometown hero, Zergev Squadron successfully overshot their allotted time by five hours, spending a total of seven hours in Furoul.

"I'm never going to trust anything you say again!" Wilhelm raged, urging his land dragon on at the head of the group. In the face of the Sword Devil's anger, all Grimm could do was keep his head down. Given all his grandstanding, it was his best bet after what amounted to a pitiful defeat. Indeed, he would have to reflect carefully on what had gone wrong on this occasion.

"Take it easy, Cap," Conwood said. "The boy runs away from home and comes back a hero—of course Mom and Dad and the kids want to celebrate…"

"Yeah, and so does every single relative, teacher, and old friend! They were lined up all the way to the next village… What a mess!" Wilhelm's yelling got even louder as he thought back on the seven-hour festivities.

The truth was, it hardly surprised any of them that Grimm's village might want to make an event out of his homecoming. Some among his close family had all but burst into tears upon seeing him again.

I guess my parents assumed I was dead, Grimm wrote.

"Given how you looked when I met you, and the fact that they hadn't heard from you for years, I don't blame them."

It had been the shared opinion of the entire squadron at the time that Grimm was not likely to survive for very long. But through a series of coincidences, here he was, still with them. Grimm himself probably wouldn't disagree calling it a gift of luck.

"That's a pretty critical hit to our schedule, but the vice-captain's family sure was happy to see him," Conwood said. "And as far as patrolling goes, we couldn't have asked for a more successful display of military presence." This whole incident was—

"No, forget it," Wilhelm said, interrupting Grimm as he started to write an apologetic note. "Conwood's right. At least we got the job done."

As a runaway lacking in filial piety just like his old comrade, there was hardly room for Wilhelm to judge. Whatever the situation of the other members of his squadron, Wilhelm no longer had family with whom to get in touch. The fires of war had consumed them, along with his entire hometown. He was just like Grimm in that he had run away and had never contacted his family thereafter. But unlike Grimm, Wilhelm would never have the chance to apologize.

From that perspective, the opportunity for Grimm to reunite with his family and friends was cause for joy.

"We can make up the time," he said. "If you want to show you're sorry about today, just…write to your family sometimes."

" "

"Anyway, when you come back with Carol one day, it's gonna be even worse, right?"

Trying to put what happened behind them, Wilhelm brought up Grimm's lover. He had seen how ecstatic Grimm's family was to know that their son had attained military rank. If they knew he was going to marry a daughter of the nobility, they would be unimaginably shocked.

Mind your own business. When Grimm finally looked up at Wilhelm again, he was smiling at last.

It seemed to inspire the entire troop, and they set off down the road with renewed vigor. The time line they had been trying to condense as much as possible had been seriously expanded instead, but it still wasn't beyond recovery.

"Luckily, I don't think we have any squad members who hail from any of the other places we're visiting," Conwood said.

"That's a relief," Wilhelm replied. "If I see another parent, friend, family member, or well-wisher, it'll be too soon."

That seems a little on the nose, doesn't it? Grimm seemed less than entirely pleased.

"I just don't want a repeat of Furoul. I'm trying to keep collateral damage low, so to speak."

Regardless of Grimm's reaction, Zergev Squadron hurried down the Liphas Highway. In due course, they safely arrived at their next destination, Milgre.

This time, there was no massive welcoming party, and they were able to complete their patrol and move on in the shortest possible time.

I'm glad nothing came up. I hope things keep going this way. "How much time did we make up?"

We're still four hours behind schedule.

"I shouldn't have asked."

Still, they had indeed recovered some time. If things kept going like this, they might manage to be back at the capital with a couple of hours to spare before the wedding.

"At least…"

At least he might get away without upsetting Theresia. Wilhelm knew he was grasping at straws, but it was all he had.

But of course, when one grasps at straws, those straws eventually break.

The nobles' quarter of the capital was a place only those with status could live. Brand-new magic lanterns shone in the night along straight-edged flagstone streets that ran among luxurious, elegant buildings. The dragon carriages that rolled through the streets hardly made a sound; the whole place was the height of class.

The country had supposedly grown fatigued by the long civil war, but conflict seemed to have hardly touched this place. The nobles' quarter seemed to rebuff all influences from beyond its borders, like a world unto itself. Any kind of disturbance or fighting was strictly taboo, in deference to the etiquette and tranquility of the area.

Two women walked through the district, their shoes clicking against the ground. One of them walked with her shoulders pulled back, cutting through the air, while the second woman called to the first.

"L-Lady Theresia! Are you—are you really going to confront Lord

Veltol?"

"Of course I am, Carol. I'm awfully angry about all this."

Theresia, still marching quickly, pursed her lips at the other woman, who had golden hair and blue eyes, and gave an overall impression of sharpness. The second woman, Carol, withered under Theresia's gaze.

"Are you saying you oppose me, Carol? That you oppose…my wedding…?"

"Please don't look at me so anxiously, mistress! I would never oppose you in any matter! Though I admit Wilhelm wouldn't be my first choice for a husband…"

"So you are against us…"

" ! Please don't put me in such a difficult position; you'll make me cry! I'll be sobbing like a pathetic little baby!"

"S-sorry, I'm sorry. It's all right, Carol, I trust you."

Seeing that the taut beauty was about to break, Theresia rushed to reassure Carol. Her attendant of so many years was normally quite stoic, but when it came to matters in which Theresia was involved, she could sometimes become surprisingly delicate. Recently that tendency had expanded to include her love for Grimm and, because of his connection with Theresia, anything to do with Wilhelm. Carol had become rather emotional and a lover of cute things…

"I'm surprised to learn how much trouble you can be, Carol," Theresia said.

"S-such sudden criticism, milady. I am first among your attendants and the one who helps you navigate this world. I hope you'll continue to rely on me just as you always have."

"Yes. And you've always been very reliable."

"Yes, ma'am!"

Theresia gave Carol an encouraging pat on the shoulder, to which Carol responded with shining eyes and an emphatic nod. She jumped up with a shout before cocking her head in surprise. "Huh? When did I become so obedient to you…?"

"Come on, Father and Mother should be here. Let's go give them a piece of our minds." Theresia roundly ignored Carol's question as they came to one particular house in the nobles' quarter—a place for visitors who had come to the capital from afar. Considering the wedding the next day, Theresia's parents—Veltol, head of the House of Astrea; and his wife, Tishua—were presumably there.

"I thought it was strange when they said they would stay at the guesthouse instead of at our mansion. I'm sure they just didn't want me to find out what they were scheming."

"I see," Carol said. "If I may ask, milady, what did Lord Veltol say when he declined to stay at the mansion?"

"He claimed the house already belongs to me and Wilhelm as husband and wife, so my parents wouldn't seek to impose upon us… And, uh, well, believe me, I wasn't convinced simply because he called us 'husband and wife,' okay?"

Carol smiled softly. "Of course, I understand. Your Carol is on your side,

Lady Theresia."

It was the same smile she had shown at the ceremony after the conclusion of the war, when she had silently watched Theresia about to accept an honor she didn't want. That is to say, a smile that showed she was holding something back within her heart; and Theresia didn't have the courage to ask what it was.

"Anyway, let's go," Theresia said. "And let's make sure this sort of thing never happens again."

"But, milady, what good will it do, even if Lord Veltol admits to his perfidy in this case?"

"I don't care about this time. I'm going to make him promise for the future. After all—" As she headed for the entrance of the guesthouse, Theresia glanced back at Carol. Her eyes held no trace of doubt as she declared, "—Wilhelm will make it back for the wedding. He promised to

make me his bride. So you don't have to worry about that."

Then, riding that wave of confidence, Theresia reached for the door.

Chapter 16 - c