After returning to the mansion, Arwin became so docile that her initial rampage seemed like a lie. Watching her quietly accept her feed and rest in the stable, which had been patched up in the meantime, one could have mistaken her for a perfect lady.

The other horses still treated her as though she were a monster, of course.

"So you spent three days and nights rolling around with that horse?"

"I'm telling you, it wore me out."

Roden stared at Shan's grinning face and let out a deep sigh. Honestly, how could he be so carefree, without the slightest idea how worried everyone had been...?

"Well, at least you managed to tame her. Frankly, I thought you'd beat that horse to death."

Shan might have an innocent face, but Roden knew better than anyone how violent he was at heart. A temper that drove him to punch a girl in the face and bloody her nose just because she got under his skin wasn't going to disappear overnight.

Privately, Roden had expected Shan to lose his temper while fighting the horse, beat her to death, and come home.

"Master told us, remember? You shouldn't rule a companion you trust to watch your back through fear. They'll obey while you're strong, but the moment you weaken, they'll turn on you."

Had Shan never received those teachings—had he still been the boy who believed violence was the only way to prove himself to others—he would have tried to beat Arwin into submission.

If he had, she most likely would never have opened up to him. The several burn scars on her hindquarters made it easy enough to guess how she had been controlled before.

Only after a contest between two living creatures, testing which was superior and more persistent, had she acknowledged that Shan was even more relentless than she was and chosen to submit.

"Well, fine. Enough about that. Read these first."

"What are they?"

"Letters from people who came by while you were gone."

Most of the bundle Roden handed him had been left by strangers, chiefly minor nobles and merchants. Setting aside the letters about what an honor it would be to have him visit their homes and so forth, Shan found a few worth reading.

"Sir Katra's decided to go monster hunting again... Oh, Sir Lug's joining Prince Elvin's camp."

"Really? That beanpole?"

"You didn't read them?"

"They're your letters. I couldn't read them before you did."

"Then read this one now."

When Shan held out the letter, Roden clicked his tongue in disbelief, took it, and read through it. Before long, his expression grew serious.

"Shan."

"Yeah?"

"You said this Lug fellow was strong, right?"

"He definitely would've won this tournament if I hadn't been there. With a little more training, he might even get stronger than Feonil."

"Hmm..."

If Shan went that far in his praise, Lug was certainly a genius of the highest order among ordinary knights—or rather, among humans other than Shan. He would probably make quite a name for himself one day.

The possibility of someone so talented becoming an enemy was hardly welcome. Of course, the final alone made it clear that Shan wouldn't lose a one-on-one fight, but there was no guarantee that the palace's shadowy struggles would be fought so fairly.

It was an extreme example, but if Marquis Abel and Lug joined forces to attack him together, even Shan could be in danger. Granted, they belonged to different camps, so that was exceedingly unlikely.

"It would've been nice if we could've gotten him to join Princess Sherin instead..."

"But honestly, Her Highness has so little to offer."

"That's the problem."

Few people knew just how much potential—or danger—Sherin held. To the public, she was merely a genius mage and a princess with an unusual interest in running the country.

The very fact that she faced no major threat at present was largely due to the two princes letting their guard down, thinking, Surely a girl wouldn't be after the throne?

Naturally, that made it difficult to imagine gaining anything by siding with her. Unless someone was in Shan's position, joining a prince was the obvious choice.

"Let's stay on friendly terms for now. He might bring us useful information from the prince's side, and belonging to different camps doesn't mean we have to kill each other."

"Honestly, he's a bit much for me."

It felt terribly strange to have a man who looked about two meters ten tall gaze at him with sparkling eyes as though he were some kind of idol.

His look of distaste lasted only a moment before he glanced at the next letter and gave a small exclamation.

"Oh, Her Highness sent a letter too. She says the item's finished and I should come pick it up."

"Oho!"

"She also says that if I'm having trouble handling the horse I won, she can tell me a good way to do it."

"She got that one wrong."

Always acting as though she knew everything. Roden chuckled with evident satisfaction.

"So when should we go?"

"She says she'll be at the villa the night I get back, so I should visit then."

"Damn it, she really does know everything. How on earth does she gather her information? Does she use magic?"

Still reading through the letters, Shan asked with a curious expression, "Wait, did Master come by too?"

"Huh? No, there's no way I would've missed him if he'd come."

"This is a letter from him."

The letter was scrawled on musty parchment, with neither elegant decorations nor the heavy scent of perfume. It contained just one sentence: "Congratulations."

Without Sir Darkal's family seal and signature at the bottom, they would have thought someone had sent it as a joke.

"That's just like Master. Really."

"It certainly is."

He had probably felt too embarrassed to meet them in person and make some grand speech. The old man couldn't stand saying things that would please people.

Somehow, that exceedingly brief message radiated warmth, and the two of them chuckled over it for a long while.

* * *

That night, Shan walked alone through the capital's dim streets without so much as a torch. Given the nature of the item he would be bringing back, Roden had decided to stay home so they could avoid the night watch's notice.

Shan's distinctive glowing eyes were not much of a problem. He simply had to close them whenever a watchman passed nearby and walk from memory. Unlike ordinary people, he could walk several hundred meters along a route he had seen and know precisely where he was.

After passing through several streets, Shan arrived at the princess's villa and knocked as Kagon had done before.

KNOCK, KNOCK

For some reason, no one opened the gate, no matter how many times he knocked. Should he knock harder?

Before he could ponder it further, he sensed a watchman approaching in the distance.

Shan gazed at the wall beside the main gate, which looked three or four meters high, then sprang up. Using tiny irregularities between the bricks, gaps barely deep enough for half a finger joint, he climbed like a spider.

But the moment he landed on the other side, a blast of heat surged up from below.

'What—'

As flames rose from the ground and engulfed him, Shan instinctively infused his entire body with spirit imbued with the will to defend, shielding his face with both arms.

Had the flames continued to envelop him, he would have exhausted himself and suffered fatal injuries. Fortunately, the fire swept over him once and immediately vanished.

"Who's there!"

SHING

With the sound of a sword being drawn inside the mansion, Sir Aran rushed out, longsword in hand. Seeing Shan lightly singed, she asked in surprise, "Sir Shan? Why did you suddenly set off the garden's trap spell? No, more importantly, who let you in?"

"Well..."

When he explained that he had climbed over the wall, the woman knight looked dumbfounded.

"Even so, how could you dare climb the wall of the house where Her Highness is staying?"

"I knocked, but no one opened it."

"Ah, well, Her Highness and I are the only ones here today."

Looking sheepish at the mention of his knocking, she changed the subject.

"Still, I'm glad you're unharmed. That couldn't have been a weak blast."

"I have spirit, after all."

Aran stared at Shan, who was perfectly fine apart from a little singeing, as though he were some curious creature. Spirit could be reliably channeled into objects with a clear purpose, such as swords and shields. Wrapping it around one's whole body for protection was not only terribly inefficient but fiendishly difficult.

At the very least, ordinary knights couldn't have managed it in the brief instant it took the flame trap to activate.

"I see. So Her Highness hasn't been devoting so much attention to him despite her busy schedule for nothing..."

Her mutter held a faint jealousy, along with self-reproach. If she had been that strong, the princess would never have needed to fixate so much on some Altoan knight.

Unlike their previous meeting in the drawing room, this one took place in none other than the princess's bedroom. The room was spacious enough to run around in, and the luxurious bed at its center was large enough for ten people to sleep on. A sweet fragrance lingered in the air.

Sherin seemed to have just woken up; she wore only a coat over a thin nightdress. Seated in an armchair and rocking leisurely, she smiled at Shan.

"It sounded rather noisy outside."

"I had a small accident while trying to arrive more discreetly, Your Highness."

"I suppose it couldn't be helped, but please use the main gate next time. I shan't be able to sleep for fear that a knight like you might sneak in at any moment and cut off my head."

Murmuring words far too grim for a joke, she pointed at a long object lying on the floor before her. Carefully wrapped in cloth, it had the shape of a pole about three meters long.

"Now, here is something eagerly awaiting its master. A gift to celebrate your victory in the joust... and payment for our first transaction. Take it."

When he undid the knots and removed the cloth, a spear emerged. It was a reasonably sized long spear, suitable for infantry use or as a somewhat short cavalry lance.

What made it unusual were the unfamiliar characters carved all the way from its leaf-shaped blade to its blackened ash shaft. It did not shine brightly, but its faint glow seemed to proclaim at a glance that it was no ordinary weapon.

"I used an entire troll's magic stone on a master craftsman's finest spear. As long as the core at the butt of the shaft remains intact, it can repair a certain amount of damage on its own. Even if it snaps in half, simply hold the broken pieces together and it will return to its original state. It also prevents wounds inflicted by its blade, whether cuts or punctures, from healing easily. Needless to say, it is far harder and sharper than an ordinary spear."

From the description alone, it was certainly a masterpiece closer to ancient Alto's magical devices than to modern magic tools. It fell far short of A Thousand Forms, but the difference in their materials alone was overwhelming to begin with.

The princess was unquestionably a genius far surpassing any other mage of this age. Once they had built up more trust, perhaps he could show her A Thousand Forms and let her study the magic within it.

What terrifying results might she produce from that?

"Of course, I've tested it thoroughly, but do let me know if any problems arise in actual combat. I'll fix them immediately."

"Thank you so much, Your Highness! I'll put it to good use!"

So delighted was Shan with his new weapon that he unwittingly forgot his formal manner of speech as he thanked her. Smiling fondly, Sherin clapped her hands as though she had remembered something she'd forgotten.

"Ah, but to wield such a splendid spear, you'll need a suitable horse... I hear the royal family's problem child was offered as this year's prize?"

"The royal family's problem child?"

"That Horace warhorse. Of all the offspring born to the stallion the king of Horace gave us ten years ago, it inherited the finest abilities. But it was also the only one to inherit its sire's temper, so no one has managed to tame it."

So she was talking about Arwin. Come to think of it, hadn't her letter offered to tell him how to tame her?

With a devious smile, the princess produced a medicine bottle the size of a fist and shook it.

"Find some way to feed the horse this medicine regularly. I've been preparing it for some time, thinking it would be nice to put the creature to use. It will lose some intelligence, but it will obediently follow anyone's orders. Just in case, it doesn't work on humans, so don't try using it on them..."

"Oh, that's all right. I've already sorted it out."

"What?"

At the wholly unexpected reply, Sherin's long, narrow eyes widened.

"Sorted it out? How?"

"I just took her outside and ran around with her for about three days, and she opened up to me."

He omitted the details of the grueling ordeal, how he had truly spent all three days without getting off her back. It was rather too dirty a story to tell before a princess.

"Ha, honestly... You are an interesting man. I haven't lived very long, but I've never met anyone quite so far from dull."

Though Sherin showed disappointment that her gift had become useless, she looked pleased at the same time.

And so, with one horse spared the danger of becoming an idiot, the conversation turned to the joust.

"It's a pity I couldn't go and watch in person. I had so many daytime engagements I simply couldn't get out of."

"I'll look forward to your coming to watch when you have time."

"That would be nice. And... when it's just us, you can speak more casually."

"Pardon?"

"Such formal speech makes you seem distant. I preferred how you spoke just now. Would you rather not?"

"Not at all—no. It's not that I mind..."

"Come to think of it, you spoke quite casually when we first met. Though that was because I'd concealed my identity."

Unlike when he slipped up by accident, deliberately trying to speak in his usual manner felt strange. Was it because she was a princess?

After thinking for a moment, Shan realized why.

"Then please be more casual with me too, Your Highness."

"Me? Have I not been?"

"You didn't use that old-fashioned way of talking before."

"Now that you mention it, I suppose I didn't... All right. Shall we talk a little less stiffly, then?"

Her speech reverting completely to that of the cheerful young mage, Sherin grinned and swung her legs. Beside them, Aran muttered, "Your Highness, please, your dignity..." but both pretended not to hear.

Even so, taking her invitation to call her "big sister Sherin" at face value was a little too much to ask.

"So, did you spot anyone useful at this tournament?"

"Sir Lug."

"Your opponent in the final? Kagon said the same thing. If you both say so, I suppose real talent can't help standing out..."

Sherin murmured that it was a pity; she had hoped there might be some less conspicuous talent.

"Well, this isn't the time to be looking for new talent anyway. I've received word that Elvin intends to try recruiting you soon."

"Prince Elvin?"

"Even 'prince' is too good for him. Just call him that bastard."

Deep contempt clouded the princess's face as she spat out the insult.

"Apparently he's finally started wanting you for himself. Yet he doesn't have the nerve to take full responsibility for you. It's obvious he just means to use you for all you're worth and throw you away, so don't let him sweet-talk you, all right?"

"All right."

"Honestly, the gall of him, eyeing you so shamelessly when he wasn't even the one who discovered you."

Unsure how to answer, Shan looked away and noticed a portrait hanging on one side of the bedroom. The beauty with flowing dark blue hair seemed to be Princess Sherin, but she looked older, with softer eyes that gave her a gentle, virtuous air.

"That's a really well-painted portrait."

"That's a portrait of my mother."

"Oh."

"Aste Barbelka. She was an unhappy woman. Though I never actually had a proper conversation with her face-to-face."

Shan recalled Sherin's full name anew.

Sherin Giselle Aste Hasra.

The royal families of the Arman Alliance had long held the tradition of placing their fathers' and mothers' names between their given names and surnames. That was why the third part of Sherin's name differed from those of her half siblings.

After a brief silence, Sherin abruptly changed the subject.

"Do you happen to know what kind of man my father is?"

"Not very well."

"I suppose not. Word of what the king is like rarely reaches the people below... And you're originally from another country, too."

Sherin gave a small sigh as she answered him.

All Shan knew about Giselle III, king of Pendia, was that he had married three times, that all his queens had died young of illness, and that he himself was now gravely ill and hovering on the brink of death.

"When I told you before that my brothers didn't care about our father's health, your eyes seemed to say, Aren't you the same? Both yours and Roden's."

Shan flinched involuntarily at the princess's sharp insight. He had thought something along those lines, but he wondered how she had pinpointed it so accurately when he had never put it into words.

"My father is a horrible monster. He murdered his eldest brother, the rightful king, and all his nephews to seize the throne, then devoured all his wives with his debauched way of life. If that man hadn't collapsed on his own, I might really have poisoned him myself."

Sherin added that his sons, Conrad and Elvin, were equally horrible monsters, though in different ways.

Perhaps she herself was one too.

"This whole damned House Hasra must be cursed. Honestly, it's hideous beyond words..."

* * *

The next day, after listening to the princess's complaints, which had bordered on drunken rambling, Shan returned to the mansion. He did not repeat everything she had told him to Roden.

For some reason, it had felt deeply private, something he should not carelessly share with anyone else.

"Now, shall we start making a plan?"

The subject was the princess's commission: hunting the greater vampire of Kastaman Castle. The castle stood in a relatively deserted wilderness north of Hasra. It would probably take five to seven days to reach on foot.

"A plan... Do we need one?"

Couldn't they simply charge in and cut it down? Taking Shan's meaning, Roden chuckled and replied, "With your abilities, you certainly could. But greater vampires are cunning creatures. What if it runs away instead of fighting?"

"Oh."

"No matter how fast Arwin is, we need to know where the enemy is before we can chase it. That means we need a proper strategy."

Having said that, Roden traced a large circle with his finger.

"The best way is to form a cordon. Wherever it runs, we'll know which way it went."

"A cordon? How are the two of us supposed to surround it?"

"Why would there only be two of us?"

Roden answered Shan's question with a look of incomprehension.

"You're a knight now. That means you can hire and deploy all the mercenaries you need!"