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The first to exit those gates in the early hours of the morning was the Sultan of the Nahama. He departed into the snowfields escorted by the warriors of Nahama, the Sand Scorpions, and the Dungeon Wizards.

Amelia Merwin was also part of this procession. As she looked back behind her, she silently promised herself, ‘One day,’ and pulled on the chain wrapped around Hemoria’s neck.

If only she could harvest his corpse. This was a thought that had passed through Amelia’s mind dozens or even hundreds of times during the ten or so days she had spent within the fort, but she couldn’t afford to put those thoughts into practice.

Her eyes were fixed on the sight of the Brave Molon standing on top of the high castle walls. His body, so strong that it didn’t seem human, caused Amelia’s heart to flutter with desire.

However, she still promised herself that she would one day get what she wanted. As she imagined the distant, no, not-too-distant future, Amelia licked her lips.

Amelia’s collaborator, the Sultan, was having conniptions due to the appearance of a Hero and a Saint, along with the reclusive Molon, during the Knight March, but — Amelia didn’t care about that.

Instead, Amelia felt that it was something like destiny that Eugene Lionheart, whom she had promised to definitely kill the next time they met, would turn out to be the Hero. She didn’t see any problems with this.

If the Hero and the Saint were beings who had inherited the legacy of legends, then the Brave Molon himself was a living legend. But Amelia happened to be in possession of a legend that had already died yet hadn’t fully disappeared. She had the corpse of the Stupid Hamel, the prize among all of Amelia’s most treasured possessions. Although she didn’t have a suitable soul to infuse into it, it wasn’t that big of a problem.

Also, Hamel’s corpse wasn’t the only treasure Amelia possessed.

‘The Brave Molon and Eugene Lionheart… if I can get the Saint’s corpse as well, that would be perfect, but it would be difficult,’ Amelia thought as she turned her head away, hiding her laugh.

With a bone stuck between her jaws, Hemoria was no longer even able to make the sound of grinding her teeth.

Even after being severely disciplined, Hemoria hadn’t abandoned her enmity towards Amelia. It was impossible for her to do so. The only thing sustaining the current Hemoria was her hatred. Her hatred of Amelia Merwin and her hatred of Eugene Lionheart. As well as a hatred for the god who did not save her who had believed in him.

Hemoria glared at Amelia’s back with her dull, dead eyes.

After Nahama, the procession of countries continued. Some of the processions had decreased in size from when they first came, while others had increased. Most of the mercenary companies that had arrived on their own had been contracted by the attending countries. Any transfers between knightly orders would only be carried out after they had returned to their own country and cleared things up.

As for the Lionhearts….

They hadn’t recruited any mercenaries or knights. The Lionhearts only needed the Lionhearts. They had managed to do well enough during this Knight March with just that.

They had seen the Blade of Incarceration.

They had even seen the Demon King.

They had competed with the Brave Molon.

All these alone had served to make the Lionhearts stronger. All of the knights who bore the name Lionheart were the descendants of the Great Vermouth. Even the White Lion Knights, who hadn’t inherited the Lionheart bloodline, were all devoted to the legend that originated from their name. As for the Lionhearts themselves, they naturally also felt the same way.

They wanted to be part of that legendary experience. They hoped to continue the legend. By competing with Molon, they were able to satisfy this longing.

Eugene could strongly sense the changes that had resulted from this. The fighting spirits of the hundreds of knights belonging to the Lionheart clan were stoked higher instead of cooling down from their defeats at Molon’s hands. There was also a sense of longing. The one-sided defeats that they had suffered ignited a fiery desire for self-improvement in each of them.

When seeing off the other nations, Molon hadn’t come down from his perch on top of the walls. However, when the time came to see off the Lionheart clan, he leaped down from the battlements.

“The descendants of Vermouth,” Molon said with a laugh as he patted each of the knights on the shoulder. “You will become even stronger. I, Molon, who was once Vermouth’s comrade, guarantee it.”

Molon didn’t explain exactly just how they were going to become stronger. Instead, he just uttered these words with a confident gaze and steady voice.

However, that was already enough to start triggering a change. Hadn’t Anise herself said so while they were traveling through the snowfields? People can adapt and change surprisingly quickly.

Because they had the willingness to improve themselves, from just a few opportunities that couldn’t be considered all that significant, it was enough to transform their spars with Molon into an opportunity for their own growth. And Molon’s words guaranteeing they would become stronger had bolstered their confidence.

Molon slowly turned and addressed him, “...Eugene Lionheart.”

Eugene had been worried that Molon might actually call him Hamel. Fortunately, Molon wasn’t that much of a fool, but judging by the momentary hesitation shown before uttering his name, Molon was close to being such a fool.

“I definitely won’t forget our promise,” Molon assured him seriously.

Unlike what he had done with the other vassals of the Lionheart clan, Molon didn’t pat him on the shoulder. Instead, Molon grinned and held his huge fist up to Eugene. After staring at his fist for a few moments, Eugene smirked and reached out with his own fist.

“I also won’t forget our promise either,” Eugene said in return.

Since many people were watching them, they couldn’t speak comfortably. Feeling an unavoidable embarrassment due to his fact, Eugene opened up his outstretched fist.

Changing to a more polite tone, Eugene followed by saying, “Please take care until we next meet.”

Molon, who still had his fist outstretched, burst into laughter as he saw Eugene’s open hand. His huge fist also opened up.

Molon\'s giant hand then gripped Eugene’s own hand. They had already unburdened themselves to each other the night before. That said, it wasn’t like they didn’t have anything they wanted to do or say to each other right now.

For example, didn’t Molon realize just how big his palm was? Why was he secretly trying to compete with Eugene by increasing his grip strength? Eugene felt the urge to ask just such an irreverent question about such a foolish topic.

But Eugene didn’t say anything directly to Molon. He didn’t think it was necessary. If there was something that they couldn’t talk about now, they could just bring it up the next time they met.

“That’s right,” Molon agreed, having the same thoughts.

He let go of Eugene’s hand. However, his current thoughts and the desires in his heart didn’t match. Molon spread his arms wide open and pulled Eugene into a tight embrace.

“See you next time,” Molon said.

Unlike the first time Molon had hugged him, Eugene wasn’t faced with the threat of suffocation. After struggling futilely with both feet dangling in the air, Eugene sighed and returned Molon’s hug.

Then Eugene whispered in a low voice, “Let go of me, you bastard.”

Having received such a curse, Molon laughed loudly and set Eugene down.

The farewell ended with that. Molon stood by the gates until the tail of the Lionheart’s procession passed through the gates and receded into the snowfields.

Unlike when they had first traveled to the fort, they were all riding in large sleighs on their way back. Although it was called a sleigh, its shape was closer to a carriage without wheels. Every time the domesticated monsters crashed through the snow, the sleigh shot forwards.

Eugene stuck his head out of the window and watched as Molon slowly grew further and further away. The bright-eyed Molon noticed that Eugene had turned his head to look back at him, so he waved his hand. Eugene let out a snort and stuck his own hand out of the window. After casually waving it a few times, he shook it off as if to shoo Molon away.

“It seems that Sir Molon really likes you,” Cyan murmured from the opposite seat. “In Sir Molon’s eyes, we must feel like the grandchildren of a friend. He must be showing you such fondness because you resemble our ancestor.”

“But he also showed you a lot of fondness, brother,” Ciel reminded him. “Why are you pretending like you didn’t receive any? When Sir Molon even let you ride on his shoulders.”

Ciel was sitting next to Eugene as if it was only natural. When his younger sister teased him with an amused squint in her eyes, Cyan couldn’t come up with a reply immediately and just pouted.

Eventually, Cyan rallied, “...H-hey! Why are you saying such nonsense? You rode on Sir Molon’s shoulders as well…!”

Ciel just sighed, “Brother, like I’ve always said, you get flustered about the weirdest things. Why is that? Is it because you’re the next Patriarch of the Lionheart clan and no longer a child that you’re so embarrassed about riding on Sir Molon’s shoulders?”

“I-I didn’t really want to ride him in the first place,” Cyan tried to argue. “Sir Molon just forcibly lifted me up and—”

“So what? Isn’t it better to be cared for by Sir Molon than to be shown no interest at all,” Ciel said with a giggle as she glanced at Eugene.

Currently, Ceil was the only one sitting next to Eugene. That dubious and sometimes frighteningly creepy Assistant Bishop… no, the Saint, wasn’t here with them. She wasn’t sitting on another seat in the carriage either. Although Ciel didn’t know what in the world might be going on with her, but….

‘No, isn’t this only the natural result? Saint Kristina is someone from Yuras, after all,’ Ciel reminded herself.

Kristina Rogeris had accompanied the Priesthood of Yuras on their return. For some reason, even Mer, who usually fluttered around here and there while squeaking away like a bat, was staying put inside Eugene’s cloak.

Thanks to that, Ciel was casually occupying the seat next to Eugene. Of course, even if Mer and Kristina had been in this carriage with them, Ciel would have insisted that she had the freedom and the right to sit wherever she wanted.

Ciel still felt the urge to ask, “About Saint Kristina, why did she have to go back so suddenly?”

She was curious about Kristina’s reason for doing so. Ciel also felt a little worried. She didn’t hate Kristina to the point where she would just giggle in glee no matter what happened to her. Ciel was just, ever so slightly, in a good mood because of Kristina’s absence.

“She said she had something she needed to do,” Eugene answered.

Ciel probed, “So you don’t know the reason for it either?”

“She said that the core of Yuras had come to some sort of decision during the Knight March conference,” Eugene said as he glanced over to Ciel, who was giggling strangely to herself.,

Naturally, Eugene knew the reason why Kristina needed to return to Yuras.

Among the members of Yuras’ Priests of the Light, priests with particularly strong divine power and miracles were carefully being selected so that a unit of combat priests centered around Kristina could be organized.

When they had first heard about this from the Pope, Kristina and Anise had vehemently refused to have any part in it. However, when the Pope swore that as the Saint, she would have full authority over any of the troops mustered by the Pope, Kristna and Anise eventually gave up on their stubborn refusal.

Ansie said that they might someday serve as insurance.

Kristina also said that it might be of some help to Eugene.

The newly mustered combat division was to be developed in Yuras with the concept of serving as Kristina and Anise’s personal guard. If the priests weren’t able to prioritize her order as the Saint over the Pope’s, Anise had said that she would make sure to put them back in the right frame of mind. Perhaps wanting to make sure that the newly formed organization was made along those lines from the outset, Anise had left the fort earlier along with the priests of Yuras, saying that she would carefully pick them out after examining them with her own eyes.

After returning to the Lionheart estate, Eugene planned on making preparations and then leaving for Helmuth. He had also shared his plans with Anise. So although Anise had decided to return to Yuras first, they had arranged to meet up again in Helmuth.

Their final destination was naturally the Dragon Demon Castle.

Before that, Eugene also planned to visit the Kazaard Hills, where the Moonlight Sword had been first discovered and where a fragment had been excavated. That was probably where Vermouth had shattered the Moonlight Sword.

‘If I can find some more fragments, the Moonlight Sword’s strength should increase,’ Eugene thought hopefully.

But wasn’t it dangerous for them to go to Helmuth? Until recently, that was what Eugene had thought, so he had acted cautiously. However, ironically, the Demon King of Incarceration had ended up guaranteeing Eugene’s protection.

Of course, not all of the demonfolks would show complete obedience to the Demon King’s words like Gavid Lindman did. Balzac Ludbeth, the Black Tower Master, had also said something to Eugene regarding this several years ago.

Being a Demon King didn’t mean that they had perfect control over all of the demonfolks. The Demon King of Incarceration left most demonfolks to their own devices. Among the countless demonfolks, there were also some demonfolks who actively defied the Demon King of Incarceration’s will.

However, Eugene didn’t think that this threat really mattered to him. The first time he heard that warning, he was incomparably weaker than now, so he had to carefully assess all possible outcomes when he considered going to Helmuth. But now?

‘Gavid won’t lay a hand on me. That means the Black Fog under Gavid’s command won’t do anything to me, either. As for Noir Giabella…,’ Eugene trailed off consideringly.

Although Eugene was worried about that psycho, he would never get anything done if he just procrastinated by worrying over every uncertain possibility.

Eugene recalled Sienna, who was still sealed inside the World Tree. He remembered how she looked with a hole pierced through her chest, entangled in roots, barely being kept alive through the power of the World Tree. He recalled Sienna’s laughter as she tried to tease him with a ‘knock knock’ joke.

Two years had already passed since then. Sienna might not feel like it was a very long time, but Eugene felt it was more than long enough.

He didn’t want there to be any further delays.

[Hehe… hehehe….]

Information about the Dragon Demon Castle was very scarce. It wouldn’t be easy to break into it, either. The Dragon Demon Castle continuously wandered through the skies above Karabloom, Raizakia’s fief. Since the Dragon Demon Castle was as large as a decent-sized fortress, it wouldn’t be a problem to spot it in the skies above, but the problem lay in how to break into the Dragon Demon Castle.

As a terrible hater of all humans, Raizakia hadn’t allowed any humans to enter his fief. This law hadn’t changed over the hundreds of years since Raizakia had disappeared. Karabloom, the surface level of Raizakia’s fief, was still inhabited solely by demonfolks and demi-humans.

The citizens of Karabloom were only allowed to enter the Dragon Demon Castle if they had been summoned to do so. In order to receive such a summons, they had to either have a formal title, have raised their level as a demonfolk, or be in possession of a large amount of wealth.

In other words, Raizakia’s fief was no different from its own small nation.

Those who received such a summons and were allowed to ascend to the Dragon Demon Castle and live there made up the aristocratic class called the Noblesse. In contrast, the citizens who lived on the surface level of the Karabloom fief were the commoners.

Eugene assessed his situation, ‘As a human, it will be difficult for me to enter Karabloom. It will also be impossible for me to be summoned to the Dragon Demon Castle. If it was any country on this continent, it might be a different story, but in Helmuth… and in the fief of a human-hater at that, it will be impossible for me to rely on the Lionheart name as leverage.’

In the first place, Eugene had no intention of informing his family that he was leaving for Helmuth.

Eugene didn’t have the confidence to state that everything would be fine and that there would be no problems, and even if he did his best to persuade them, his elders in the Lionheart clan wouldn’t accept it. If Eugene told them that he was leaving for Helmuth, his father, Gerhard, would be sure to faint in shock[1].

Eugene mused, ‘Would I be able to find a way in by bribing someone to open up a backdoor somewhere…? No, there’s no need for that. Since I’m going there to cause a ruckus anyway, I can just break in from the very start….’

[Hehehe… heh….]

While Eugene was diligently working out a way to break into the Dragon Demon Castle, the sound of laughter kept ringing in his head.

The subspace in his cloak contained a mix of various items, and among these was a cushioned chair. The chair hadn’t been placed inside so Eugene could take it out and sit on it when needed. Instead, it was one of the several pieces of furniture that had been placed inside the cloak for Mer’s convenience.

Mer Merdein was currently sitting curled up in that wide, cushioned chair, her shoulders shaking as she laughed.

[Finally, we’re finally making headway into saving Lady Sienna. We’re finally going to resurrect Lady Sienna,] Mer celebrated.

‘Are you really that happy?’ Eugene asked.

Mer responded, [Of course I’m happy. I’ll finally be able to meet Lady Sienna again after two hundred years. Also, also… once Lady Sienna wakes up and returns, this prolonged humiliation and persecution will also come to an end.]

‘Since when have you been humiliated and persecuted…,’ Eugene grumbled in disbelief.

However, Mer didn’t bother to argue with him. Relishing the feeling of celebrating her victory in advance, Mer peered out from an opening in his cloak.

Mer saw Ciel ask with a bright smile, “What are you going to do once we return to the clan?”

Since he couldn’t tell them he’d be visiting Hemluth, Eugene vaguely replied, “Well, I guess I’ll just keep doing what I’ve been doing since the old days….”

It might sound like an insincere response from Eugene, but Ciel and Cyan didn’t pay it any attention. Since the only thing Eugene had kept doing since the old days was training, this felt like a very Eugene-like answer.

‘Hehe… look at her smiling when she doesn’t even know the truth…. Sir Eugene and I are going to go and save Lady Sienna,’ Mer gloated to herself as she mocked Ciel’s pouty smile.

This was why Mer wasn’t coming out of the cloak. For the short amount of time left until Lady Sienna returned, Mer had decided to show mercy to Ciel by allowing her to take the seat next to Eugene.

That said, while Mer had only been staying inside the cloak for an hour or two now, when she thought about how she would need to stay inside the cloak day after day, Mer’s chest felt like it was being squeezed. In the end, Mer wriggled her way out of the cloak and sat on Eugene’s lap.

“Why don’t you take a seat?” Ciel suggested in annoyance.

“Don’t want to,” Mer rejected her. “I like staying next to Sir Eugene.”

‘This cheeky ancient brat. Since you can’t steal the seat next to him from me, you’ve decided to just sit on his lap? She should keep in mind how long she’s been in existence, to think she would still have such a childish look and attitude after being alive for over two hundred years…,’ Ciel thought scornfully while glaring at Mer, who was sitting in Eugene’s lap.

Even so, Ciel thought she could at least allow Mer this much. After all, hadn’t Ciel already claimed the seat next to Eugene?

Cyan silently stared at Eugene, who was sitting across from him.

Ciel was sitting next to Eugene, with Mer sitting in his lap. The sight of his younger sister glaring at the little girl made Cyan feel a bit distressed. However, Cyan felt like he wasn’t in a position to say anything about it.

While they were all heading back to the Lionheart estate, Cyan wouldn’t be returning directly. Instead, he would be accompanying Patriarch Gilead to the royal castle of Hamelon to meet with Aman Ruhr’s eleven-year-old daughter, Ayla Ruhr.

It wasn’t likely that they would be married right away, but perhaps… just perhaps… if he did end up getting married to her….

‘With an eleven-year-old princess…,’ Cyan thought to himself in distress.

If she was eleven years old, didn’t that mean she was even younger than Mer’s apparent age?

On top of this thought, he recalled how both Aman and Molon were enormously muscular giants. The other people of the Bayar tribe he had seen at the fort were all giants as well. So perhaps the eleven-year-old Princess Ayla was also….

Cyan found himself unable to finish that thought.

Still, wouldn\'t she at least be better than that Princess Scalia of Shimuin, who seemed half-insane even when in the right state of mind?

Cyan tried to comfort himself with this thought, but the melancholy in his heart wouldn’t go away….

1. The original Korean idiom translates literally to grabbing the back of his neck and passing out. Grabbing the back of the neck is a physical response to immense stress or anger in Korean culture. It’s a common trope seen in Korean dramas. ☜