Just as Princess Sherin had predicted, the two princes, Conrad and Elvin, did everything they could to avoid committing their skilled knights, even under these circumstances.

As a result, shouting matches broke out at court every day, sometimes even escalating into sword fights. Their rivalry was reaching such extremes that Roden hardly needed the Brotherhood to gather intelligence. Even ordinary people on the street knew all about it.

Fortunately, that did not mean the royal family had abandoned the matter altogether.

Messages issued in the king’s name were delivered to the lords near the capital, and before long, knights began streaming in. Relatively poor knights-errant had merely hired a few mercenaries to accompany them and their squires, but some lords brought dozens of household soldiers, arriving at the head of proper military forces.

Hasra’s inns could not possibly accommodate them all. The nobles and knights stayed at the mansions of acquaintances, while ordinary soldiers pitched tents outside the city.

Then, one week after news of the monsters’ great offensive broke, Shan received an invitation from the royal family and visited the palace.

“Sir Shan of House Barendil and his squire, Roden. Your identities have been confirmed.”

A junior royal official bowed politely and admitted Shan.

Entering the palace for the first time, Shan realized that its interior was illuminated not by ordinary candles, but by magical devices.

Had every magical device unearthed in the Demonlands over the past several centuries ended up here? The palace corridors were studded with luminous devices that bathed the surroundings in light. Unlike the pale yellow glow of candles, their almost unnaturally pure white light shone over the bluish marble corridors, creating a majestic sight.

Beside this, even the Count of Shedil’s true reception room, which Shan had seen before, amounted to nothing. And this splendor reached its height in the palace banquet hall.

The hall spanned three stories, with an open center that allowed those on the second and third floors to look down upon the first.

Luminous magical devices hung in profusion from the pitch-black ceiling like the moon and stars in a night sky. Intricately carved gemstone lamps scattered their light, creating the illusion of meteors falling in every color.

Banners bearing the shield emblem of House Hasra hung on the walls, with ornamental suits of armor standing beneath them.

On the lavishly decorated first floor, nobles and knights exchanged greetings and renewed their friendships. This banquet was a send-off ceremony for everyone of knightly rank or above taking part in the ogre expedition.

“Is that him? The Green-Eyed Knight?”

“It is.”

“A knighthood for a mere Altoan. What in the world is that witch thinking...?”

Naturally, the nobles’ gazes were far from friendly. Shan’s very existence openly defied Pendia’s long-standing unwritten rule against granting titles to Altoans.

The western nobles, among whom followers of the Old Faith were particularly numerous, reacted especially poorly.

Of course, not everyone was so hostile.

“Well, look who it is! Sir Shan!”

“It’s been a while, Sir Asel.”

“So we meet again! Though I suppose a warrior like you would never run from a mere ogre!”

Unlike the nobles casting dark looks his way, the knights—particularly those who had befriended him through Kalion’s introductions—welcomed him without a care. A few even dragged over the nobles to whom they had sworn allegiance to introduce them to Shan.

“Come over here, my lord. This fellow is truly remarkable...”

“Yes, yes, I understand! Stop pulling me!”

After chatting for quite some time and seeing the others off, Shan turned to Roden and whispered.

“Honestly, I don’t know why we have to do this.”

Even now, the ogre was leading its monster army through the east, wreaking havoc. Yet instead of gathering an army and marching out at once, they were laying out all this food and holding a banquet?

If the ogre had been traveling alone rather than leading an army of monsters, Shan would have gone to fight it himself instead of wasting his time like this.

Roden nodded at his grumbling with a bitter, sympathetic smile.

“Well, I agree, but with things as they are, there’s not much to be done.”

With the king gravely ill, both princes had to do everything they could to improve their own image. This banquet was merely another stepping stone toward that end.

As always, regardless of the people’s suffering, those in power put their own interests first.

As Roden explained, a gong rang out loudly from the top of the stairs on one side of the banquet hall. It signaled the arrival of honored guests.

“The scions of House Hasra enter! The shield that protects the Kingdom of Pendia and humanity in the Goddess’s name!”

“Pay your respects!”

Before long, four men and women appeared on the central staircase, accompanied by their guard knights. They were the four children the reigning king, Giselle, had fathered with his three wives.

Shan met the eyes of Sherin, who stood at the very back.

She usually wore her hair tied tightly back and amethyst spectacles. Now, dressed in deep violet and adorned with splendid jewels, she looked exquisitely elegant. Against the whites of her eyes, so pale they were almost blue, her reddish-brown irises looked blood-red at a glance.

In front of Sherin stood a delicate beauty with curly platinum-blond hair and eyes as blue as a lake.

Cassia Giselle Rana Hasra.

She was Sherin’s half sister, whose engagement to a prince of the Kingdom of Ajun had been broken off because of what Shan had done in the Demonlands several months earlier.

She wore a snow-white dress. With Sherin dressed in dark colors immediately behind her, the contrast between black and white was especially striking. Even her gently downturned eyes and the soft smile on her lips were the very opposite of Sherin’s.

“Ah, Princess Cassia is as beautiful as ever.”

“They don’t call her the Jewel of Pendia for nothing.”

“With that witch right behind her, the contrast is even sharper.”

When Shan stared directly at the noble who had spoken with such a sneer, the man cleared his throat and looked away, as though suddenly feeling guilty.

In truth, Shan’s existence was part of the reason the nobles treated Sherin with such contempt. Her decision to knight an Altoan had offended even those who had not previously thought particularly ill of her.

Shan soon turned his attention back to the royal family.

Ahead of the princesses, the two half brothers currently locked in a fierce struggle for the throne walked shoulder to shoulder. The way neither would allow the other to move ahead or leave him behind was enough to reveal their rivalry.

Conrad was only in his mid-twenties, but his slightly receding hairline made him look five or six years older. His large nose and small, narrow eyes gave him a stern, imposing air. Though not particularly tall, he had conspicuously broad shoulders and a powerful build.

Aside from their distinctive platinum-blond hair, he looked nothing like Cassia, his only full sibling. Shan had heard that, in a royal family whose members took strongly after their mothers, Conrad resembled the king most closely.

By contrast, Elvin, who was two years younger, was a handsome man with a tall, slender build and finely proportioned features. He looked like a prince straight out of a fairy tale.

His slicked-back hair was reddish-brown, inherited from his mother, who came from the Kingdom of Luman. A light dusting of freckles across his nose made him look like a mischievous boy.

‘And—’

Shan’s gaze fixed on the knight guarding Conrad.

Marquis Abel, the Lord Protector and commander of the Royal Guard.

In his youth, he had swept every kind of martial tournament held by the royal family. While suppressing several past rebellions, he had single-handedly cut down well over a dozen knights.

That was why the kingdom’s gossips often declared, “Marquis Abel is the strongest knight in the Arman Alliance.”

Watching him walk, Shan could agree with that assessment to some extent.

‘Impressive...’

For as long as he could remember, Shan had always thought everyone in the world moved inefficiently and absurdly, like puppets controlled by strings attached to the joints of their arms and legs.

But unlike ordinary people, Marquis Abel walked with a considerable degree of efficiency. Force flowed smoothly from his toes to his heels, through his ankles, knees, and pelvis, and on to his waist and shoulders...

Though he fell short of Shan, this was the first person Shan had seen who moved that way not merely in a single maneuver, but in an everyday action like walking.

How would that man fight? How did he see the world?

As Shan watched him, absorbed in thought, Marquis Abel seemed to sense his gaze and looked back.

While the two warriors stared one another down, the two princes exchanged a brief glance before the assembled nobles.

After a short contest of wills, Conrad, the elder, spoke first.

“Warriors who have answered the royal summons! I, Conrad, honor your devotion on behalf of my royal father!”

As Conrad’s nobles cheered, the faces of Prince Elvin’s supporters twisted. His choice of words—speaking on the king’s behalf—had made them uncomfortable.

Elvin took over and called out, “For this campaign, the royal family will bear all expenses incurred in the battle against the monsters!”

“Hurrah!”

“Long live His Majesty the King!”

Oddly enough, the cheers went to the king, who had not even been able to attend. Though, considering that all those payments would come from the royal treasury, perhaps they were not entirely misdirected.

The two princes continued competing to impress upon the crowd just how important this expedition was and how tremendous the rewards would be for its successful conclusion.

* * *

Once the princes’ competing declarations ended, the banquet settled into a freer, more relaxed atmosphere.

While the nobles clinked glasses of expensive wine and conversed, the knights devoured the food.

Shan stood out among them, meticulously observing the table manners Roden had taught him. The others might be excused as valiant knights, but Shan could not afford that luxury.

Without a doubt, they would say that the ignorant, lowborn Altoan had filthy table manners as well.

Shan put a morsel of food into his mouth as he stared at Marquis Abel beside Prince Conrad, then turned to Roden.

“I shouldn’t talk to the princess right now, should I?”

“Of course not. Even if you acknowledge her, she’s simply the person you’re grateful to for knighting you. Nothing more.”

Shan nodded at the answer but let out a small sigh. Really, these political games were more than exhausting. They were irritating.

Then, suddenly, he sensed a dark shadow falling over him.

It was Sir Lug the beanpole, who towered over everyone else in the banquet hall.

“We meet again, Sir Shan! May I join you?”

“Of course. But is it all right for you to be here? I thought you came as the prince’s guard...”

As one of Prince Elvin’s knights, Lug had entered alongside the four royals earlier. Even now, Conrad’s and Elvin’s knights were guarding their respective lords. Why had he alone come over to join the knights-errant?

Lug chuckled at Shan’s question.

“I’m going too!”

“On the ogre hunt?”

“Yes!”

That was truly unexpected. Shan had assumed someone of Lug’s skill would certainly be kept in the capital. Why had they let him go?

He glanced at Roden, who shrugged as though he had no idea either.

In any case, Shan was pleased. The more capable companions they had for the coming hunt, the better.

Lug excitedly chattered about how he and Shan might coordinate their attacks against the ogre. He grew so enthusiastic that he waved his long arms and spilled his wine, prompting a knight beside him to rise with a grimace.

“So, if I give you an extra push when you jump off my hands...”

“This sounds like an interesting conversation. Mind if I join in?”

The voice that abruptly cut in belonged to Prince Elvin, who had been delivering impassioned speeches alongside his half brother only moments earlier.

Startled by his lord’s arrival, Lug hurriedly rose and dropped to one knee.

“My lord!”

Though he had served as Elvin’s knight for several months now, he was as stiff as a new recruit who had just joined a mercenary company.

Elvin looked at him with an awkward expression and waved a hand.

“I told you not to do that. Get up. Ah! Sir Shan Barendil, correct?”

“Yes, Your Highness. My loyalty to the royal house.”

Shan rose and offered a slight bow rather than kneeling as Lug had.

“Yes, that’s just right. I’ve been wanting to meet you for some time.”

Despite his words, Elvin had made no attempt to contact Shan since sending someone to sound him out about entering his service.

Instead of pointing that out, Shan offered the customary apology for not having paid his respects.

“No, no. I wasn’t asking for an apology. You still haven’t changed your mind?”

“No, Your Highness.”

Elvin narrowed his eyes at the firm refusal.

A hint of something vicious and cruel flickered across the face that had looked like a cheerful, handsome boy’s only moments before. Oddly enough, it made him look rather like his half sister Sherin.

“There’s no stopping you knights when it comes to honor! Give it some more thought once this ogre expedition is over. My arms aren’t open only to pretty young ladies, you know.”

His frivolous, flippant manner hardly befitted a prince, but Elvin had a knack for passing it off as easygoing charm. It was one of the ways he outshone Conrad.

Unlike Conrad, who was regarded as stubborn and inflexible, Elvin often won over young nobles and knights with his natural sociability. The problem was that he used those same talents to slip into the bedrooms of unmarried noble daughters and noblewomen.

“You already have skilled men like Sir Lug here, Your Highness.”

“Hmm? Ah, yes. Come to think of it, the two of you competed for the championship in the joust, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Second place is all well and good, but first is better, after all. Still, if Sir Lug can learn more on this expedition, that will be worthwhile in its own right.”

Something about Elvin’s tone struck Shan as odd. He was not particularly quick-witted in matters like this, so he could hardly be certain, but...

Perhaps Elvin did not value Lug as highly as Shan had assumed. That might also explain why he had allowed Lug to join the ogre expedition.

Just as Shan reached that thought, Elvin suddenly gave him a sly look.

“More importantly, be honest with me. You have feelings for my sister, don’t you?”

“Pardon?”

The question slipped out before Shan could stop himself, and he quietly added, “Forgive me.” It was simply that sudden and absurd a question.

“What do you mean by feelings?”

“The natural affection between a young man and woman. Why else would she suddenly knight an Altoan boy she had never even met?”

In truth, rumors of that sort were already circulating in private. Princess Sherin’s reason for knighting Shan remained that much of a mystery.

Naturally, however, they had gained little traction because Shan had not sworn allegiance to her and had no public association with her whatsoever.

Elvin had learned through some channel that Shan and Roden had once visited the princess’s villa at night, which was why he was probing like this.

Of course, bringing it up openly in front of everyone was hardly normal behavior.

After a moment of bewilderment, Shan mechanically recited the response Roden had drilled into him.

“My knighthood came about through a chance encounter. I would not presume to harbor such personal feelings.”

“Not even a little?”

“No.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Elvin stared at him after that firm answer, then frowned with a quiet hum.

“That’s strange. My instincts are usually quite good. Sherin has a decent face, doesn’t she, appearances aside? She looks a little loose, but I’d say she has a better figure than Cassia. Fuller in all the right places, too.”

Listening behind Shan, Roden nearly lost control of his expression at the astonishingly shameless vulgarity Elvin directed at his two younger half sisters.

Indeed, the nobles and knights nearby, who had been paying attention since Elvin’s arrival, repeatedly cleared their throats.

Pendia was relatively open about sex compared with Old Faith countries such as Libert and Ajun, but even here, talk this crude was considered unseemly.

Only somewhere like the Kingdom of Luman, so permissive that its nobles’ banquets were criticized as little more than brothels, might people chuckle over such a topic.

“Forgive me, but I would rather not discuss this any further.”

Quiet anger colored Shan’s reply. He was somewhat slow to mature in such matters and did not fully understand what Elvin meant, but the atmosphere alone told him that the prince was trying to insult Sherin.

Though relatively indirect, his words amounted to a mere knight telling a prince to shut up. Silence descended over the nearby tables.

After a moment, Elvin clapped his hands and gave an exaggerated laugh.

“Ahaha! A joke, just a joke! Getting angry like that makes it seem as though I’ve hit the mark. Lighten up, my friend!”

Though he feigned good humor, displeasure showed in the slight twist of Elvin’s face.

After muttering a little longer, he rose. His knights glared at Shan before following him away.

Shan looked at Lug, who had stayed behind.

“Don’t you need to go with him, Sir Lug?”

“Pardon? Ah, well... He didn’t tell me to come.”

At his somewhat crestfallen expression, even Shan, who was relatively oblivious to such things, felt fairly certain.

Lug was an outsider among Prince Elvin’s knights.

Should he offer comfort, or pretend not to notice? For Shan, who had little understanding of relationships, it was a genuinely difficult decision.

While he briefly wrestled with that question, another small stir arose behind him.

Shan turned to see Sherin approaching them.