“Isn't he going to end up a broken man?”

At the small gathering after the duel, Sherin spoke over tea, looking unconvinced. She meant Baron Rugel, who had been carried away on a stretcher. He had been in such a pitiful state that she wondered whether he would ever be able to function as a knight again.

“I deliberately avoided places that are hard to heal, like his eyes. He should be fine.”

With several priests attending him, he would probably recover in a few days to a few weeks. Broken bones were among the injuries most responsive to healing miracles.

“No, I mean his mind, not his body.”

“Well, won't that be all right too? He did complete a knight's training, after all.”

Training to become a knight meant pushing the body to limits an ordinary person could scarcely imagine. Only those who endured agony that felt as though their muscles were burning and melting and their bones were being crushed could attain spirit.

Knights who had survived that process naturally had far higher pain thresholds than ordinary people. That was precisely why Shan had deliberately been so much harsher.

“Is that so...”

Knowing little of the warriors' world, Sherin accepted his explanation. After a short silence, she smiled, one eye closed and a finger pressed against her upper eyelid.

“Well, anyway, the reaction is better than I expected.”

“Are you using that?”

“Yes.”

They had only arrived at the castle yesterday, yet she apparently already had spiders under her control and scattered everywhere.

According to Sherin, the duel had broadly divided the influential people of Pales into two camps: those who clicked their tongues and said Shan had gone too far, and those who found it deeply satisfying to see the baron get what he deserved.

Surprisingly, the latter outnumbered the former. Many resented Baron Rugen, a reckless brute who ran so wild that even the count could not control him. Besides, the insult he had hurled at Shan was grave enough that he could hardly have complained even if it had cost him his life. This had not been an unjustified beating. Opinions differed only on how excessive it had been.

“As a bonus, it's given me a clear picture of the political landscape within Pales. My uncle told me about it in his letters, but seeing these things firsthand is always more reliable.”

People did not ordinarily reveal their political leanings, so even placing spiders near them rarely yielded useful information. When something major happened, however, their reactions made those leanings much easier to infer.

Shan watched Sherin move a finger through the air. She was probably sorting out whom to spare and whom to eliminate on an imaginary sheet of paper only she could envision. Pales would need to stand united for the battles ahead.

“By the way, is His Excellency the count all right?”

“Hm? What's wrong with my uncle?”

“He didn't seem very pleased when the duel ended.”

Shan remembered Count Pales turning deathly pale at the sight of his fallen brother-in-law. Perhaps this had exceeded what he had meant by teaching the man a harsh lesson. Even so, he had stood firm and declared Shan the victor.

“Don't worry. My uncle may be a little fainthearted, but he knows right from wrong. It's my aunt we should be worried about.”

“The countess?”

“Yes. She keeps badgering my uncle, asking how he could let someone turn her little brother into mincemeat. I think I'll have to have a word with her soon.”

The little smile she wore as she said it made her look every inch a devious mastermind. Shan could just imagine all the trials this noble niece would put the countess through.

Sherin finished her tea and sighed softly.

“Ah, back to work. There's so much to do.”

“You must be very busy.”

“Don't get me started. I have to sort out administrative problems in the domain that couldn't be settled by letter, keep an eye on people, restore the magical facilities, prepare for the ceremony... I wish I had ten more bodies.”

She was evidently not exaggerating. Despite having spent a day resting at the count's castle, Sherin looked more haggard than before. Dark shadows lingered beneath her eyes even through her makeup.

“Still, this should help. At the very least, people now know that if they defy me, the terrifying Sir Shan might step in.”

Reforming the domain would inevitably encroach on vested interests and provoke resistance. Sherin thanked him again, explaining that she now had the deterrent she needed to press ahead.

“Now that the groundwork is laid, I'll have to do my best... The people here see my mother in me. I'd rather not disappoint them if I can help it.”

“They do seem to have loved the late queen very much.”

Aste Barbelka, the King of Pendia's third wife and the previous count's daughter. It was only Shan's second day in Pales, yet he had already heard her name more times than he could count.

Sherin spoke wistfully.

“I only know the stories, but apparently she really was like someone out of a fairy tale. A beautiful young lady, as kind to everyone as an angel. Nothing like me.”

In Pales, Aste Barbelka had been something like everyone's first love. Though a highborn count's daughter with an angel's beauty, she had none of the haughtiness of other noble young ladies. Instead, she always greeted everyone with an angelically gentle smile.

They said she personally inquired whenever anyone from the knights and officials in her family's service to the lowliest servant was injured or in trouble. Whenever she had the time, she traveled the domain and helped the sick and weak with her own hands.

Everyone, from the count and his family to the ordinary people of the domain, had loved her and taken pride in her. They called her the saint their land had produced, its most beautiful jewel.

Above all, it was her utterly tragic fate that made them miss her so deeply.

Some twenty years ago, Giselle III had schemed to seize Pales's vast bounty, placing the domain in peril. Aste had saved Pales by offering herself, along with an immense dowry, to the lecherous king.

It was said that when she knelt before the count and begged him to let her go, despite his tearful refusal, there had not been a dry eye among those present.

To the middle-aged and elderly people of Pales, Aste was a daughter, a beloved, a sister whom they had been too weak to protect—and who had instead sacrificed herself to protect them.

Those feelings went a long way toward explaining why some still regarded Shan favorably, even after he had beaten the domain's strongest warrior senseless almost as soon as he arrived. It was already widely known that he had rescued Sherin from the royal palace and brought her to Pales.

“And holding the ceremony should lend us even more strength.”

Smiling, Sherin reached out to Shan.

“Are you ready to become my knight?”

“Of course.”

The hand he took was rough, quite unlike what one would expect of a noble princess.

* * *

The following afternoon, in the chapel inside the count's castle, Shan knelt on one knee and bowed his head before Sherin. His clothes were pressed stiff, while her dress was more lavish and ornate than usual.

They were there for the ceremony of fealty that so many knights-errant fervently desired.

“Sir Shan Barendil, will you be my faithful spear, my sword, and my shield?”

“I will, my liege.”

At his answer, Sherin cupped both hands and scooped up the fragrant oil beside her. Olive oil mixed with myrrh and several other aromatics flowed over Shan's head.

“O anointed one, so long as you faithfully fulfill your duties, neither shall I forsake you.”

Count Pales and the bishop of the Pales diocese stood beside them as witnesses, confirming their contract. The term of Shan's pledged service was five years.

His pay as a knight was of the highest order, far exceeding that of a royal knight. Even the wealthy Count Pales found it a slight strain, but none of them dared suggest it was excessive.

“Congratulations, Sir Shan.”

“My congratulations.”

Norman, the elderly knight who had first welcomed Shan to Pales, applauded alongside his niece Aran, the female knight who had attended Sherin throughout her time in Hasra.

Since Aran had known Shan from his days as an explorer, she had continued addressing him casually out of habit. Only a severe scolding from her uncle not long ago had made her change her manner of address. He had been ferocious, demanding how she could treat a knight with such accomplishments so lightly simply because he was young.

And so Sir Shan Barendil's first assignment upon formally entering Princess Sherin's service was to act as her guard.

Two days later, Count Pales summoned people for an important announcement—not to his study or a meeting room, but to the square outside his castle. As the dignitaries gathered, commoners also began arriving from all directions, wondering what was happening.

Once everyone had assembled, it was Sherin, not the count, who stepped forward on the platform. With Shan and Aran standing guard at her sides, she began addressing the hundreds of people before her, magically amplifying her voice.

“[Pendia is in peril! Since the king fell ill, the two princes have treated each other as mortal enemies and waged a war of mutual destruction! They would kill their own blood to claim the throne!]”

Sherin's opening cry elicited little response. Naturally enough, Pendia was another world across the river to these people. Whether its inhabitants killed one another was no concern of theirs.

But all of this was as calculated. Sherin paused for breath, then continued her prepared speech.

“[I guarantee you this! Whichever of them wins and becomes the new king, Pales will pay a heavy price! To repair the immense damage caused by their struggle, they will seek to take the bounty of this fertile land! Just as they plundered my mother from it some twenty years ago!]”

At the mention of Aste, Pales's most beautiful jewel, the people's expressions changed. Even after all these years, the memory of losing her to the King of Pendia remained a deep source of pain.

“[That is why I have come to this land! To prevent the people who loved my mother from being exploited! Today, as the daughter of the King of Pendia and a descendant of Count Pales, I declare that I shall inherit the title of Duchess of Rainel and become the protector of this land!]”

The Duke of Rainel had once ruled all of present-day Pales as well as part of the territory across the river. The title had vanished long ago when the Arman Empire splintered and the Kingdom of Pendia was founded. Reviving it and assuming the title herself amounted to a declaration of rebellion.

“[I have the magical knowledge I accumulated in the capital, and Pendia's strongest knight stands beside me! With the support of all the people of Pales, we can prevent Pendia from taking what is ours! For the well-being of Pales!]”

“For Pales!”

Of course, only a handful of those gathered understood these complicated notions. Most of the uninformed crowd merely joined in the cheers stirred up by a few planted agitators.

They did not fully understand, but surely this meant Lady Aste's daughter had returned to the land and would become a duchess to lead them? With their respected Count Pales and the other dignitaries beside her voicing their support as well, they assumed it could not be a bad thing.

* * *

The title of Duchess of Rainel that Sherin had proclaimed for herself carried no recognition beyond Pales. What lord would simply accept a princess—not even a king—creating a title and bestowing it on herself?

The surest way to establish her standing was through strength. To obtain that strength, Sherin gave an order to her new knight, Shan.

Sir Shan Barendil's second assignment was to train the Altoans they had brought with them into an army.

The planned Altoan settlement was to be built on the plain between the city of Pales and the harbor to its south. Like the mercenary villages in Ajun and Libert, it would house the Altoan mercenary company employed by the count.

Fortunately, Shan did not have to coordinate every detail of that complex and demanding process from scratch. Roden, their all-purpose worker, had already volunteered to oversee the Altoans and put quite a few measures in place.

“For now, I've sorted them by their previous occupations and physical characteristics. What do you think?”

“It's a lot more complicated than I expected.”

Of the Altoans assembled, 141 were physically fit to serve as soldiers. Around thirty of them had some combat experience from mercenary work and similar occupations.

Roden had made those men senior soldiers and organized the unit by assigning three or four inexperienced recruits to each of them. Nor had he forgotten to designate those with unusual senses like Shan's as scouts, and those who had worked as carpenters or blacksmiths as noncombat personnel.

Even the women and children unsuited to combat were assigned whatever work they could manage. Given everything invested in the Altoans here, they needed to spend as little time idle as possible and produce something in return.

“... At this rate, there's nothing left for me to do.”

“What do you mean, nothing? You need practice commanding them.”

“I wonder if I'll be any good.”

“From what I've seen, you've got more than enough talent.”

During the ogre hunt, Roden had seen Shan make swift decisions and lead the army from the front. He was not merely an outstanding warrior; he had ample talent as a field commander as well.

What enemy need a knight fear if he combined overwhelming martial prowess with excellent command skills?

Unable to fight people himself, Roden's job was to drill the soldiers who would support Shan relentlessly.

“Run faster!”

“Shoulder to shoulder! Break formation and you die!”

“Put some force into those spear thrusts! Don't just pretend to poke at them!”

“A red flag means retreat! Don't you have memories?”

“We're sorry!”

As the huge, heavily bearded man bellowed in their ears, the half-dazed Altoan soldiers answered in frantic bursts. Since they used wooden weapons for safety during training, he could step in or demonstrate without much trouble.

Naturally, Roden knew how to handle people too well to rely solely on the lash.

“Go home early.”

“B-but...”

“Your wife's sick, isn't she? Here's some money for medicine. Have a priest see her too, just in case.”

“Thank you...!”

If Shan was the taciturn father leading the way, Roden, despite his fearsome appearance, played the mother, looking after them with care. Shan's salary had been set so extravagantly high with precisely this sort of spending in mind, so there was no reason to begrudge the money.

With so much consideration shown to them, and homes for their families rising one by one in a domain that was like paradise on earth, the soldiers naturally grew more motivated. Expelled from the capital, they now had to make this place their second home.

Their training and cohesion improved faster than expected. Before long, Shan and Roden obtained Sherin's permission to begin field training: crossing the river to patrol the area south of Pales and hunt monsters.

“Whew...”

“So here we are again.”

After crossing the river by boat, the soldiers grumbled quietly as they left the fortress. It was only natural. They had left Pales, where they could safely lie down in an open field and sleep in the middle of the night, and returned to monster-infested Pendia.

Not long after they left the riverbank to patrol the surrounding area, a pack of five or six gnolls appeared. At Shan's command, ten men stepped forward from among the dozens of soldiers.

“Shoulder to shoulder! Thrust!”

“Hah!”

The soldiers raised their shields to block the gnolls' attacks, then drove spears and swords into their furry hides through the openings they exposed.

Had they faced the same number of gnolls only a month earlier, they would have fought in utter disarray and lost half their number. The coordination they displayed after their training was quite impressive.

“Urgh...!”

Of course, a few weeks had not turned them into elite soldiers with years of training.

As one soldier tripped over his own feet and fell into danger, Arwin raced to his side. Shan thrust out his spear, impaling and killing the gnoll, then looked down at the fallen man.

“Get up.”

“I-I'm sorry!”

“It happens. Get back in formation.”

“Yes, sir!”

With such a capable protector, the Altoans steadily grew tougher, gaining combat experience without serious losses. Acquiring monster materials, one of the few commodities Pales lacked, was an added benefit.

By making use of their distinctively Altoan physical traits, they even demonstrated advantages over ordinary armies in scouting and several other areas.

“People ahead. Ten of them!”

“What kind?”

“Probably refugees! Their bundles are unusually large...”

“Let's go see.”

At the report from the Altoan scout, whose eyes were roughly twice the size of most people's, Shan promptly gave the order. A few kilometers ahead, just as the scout had said, they found a group trudging wearily along. Shan could tell from their attire that they were mages.

“Oh, it really is an army of Altoans!”

“So the rumors were true.”

“Is this Pales, by any chance?”

In this way, Shan and the Altoan army sometimes rescued refugees seeking shelter in Pales from the war during their patrols. Some were Altoans, but most were Westerners, particularly people affiliated with the Magic Society.

Ordinary people widely understood that Pales did not open its doors to just anyone. Indeed, it accepted no settlers who were neither Altoans nor affiliated with the Magic Society. There was no telling which of the others might be agents of Conrad or Elvin.

“You've had a difficult journey. Come with us.”

Shan smiled and extended a hand to the mages. Whether they had truly come with good intentions, and whether they would be useful, was for Sherin to judge once they were inside.

* * *

Over the couple of months since arriving in Pales, Shan's daily routine had become fairly monotonous. Each morning he left the count's castle for work, training the Altoan mercenaries with Roden. He exercised to keep himself from getting rusty and, when time allowed, socialized with the domain's knights.

Even those who had initially kept their distance after his brutal demolition of Baron Rugen had begun sidling up to him and acting friendly. The baron had remained secluded even after his wounds healed, while Sherin had firmly established herself as the domain's true power.

With her characteristic intelligence and overwhelming intelligence-gathering capabilities, she had reformed the administration, rooted out corruption, and swiftly taken all of Pales's power into her own hands. They could hardly ignore Shan, who was effectively her sword, forever.

As Shan grew closer to the knights, he naturally began hearing how the war in the south was progressing. Since they led the groups that regularly traveled for trade, they were quick to receive news.

“Prince Conrad is winning?”

“So I've heard. There's even talk of the Kingdom of Luman intervening in earnest because of it. Whatever will become of the country at this rate?”

The knight sharing the news clicked his tongue.

It was already the second month of the conflict that had come to be called the Pendian War of Succession. As they themselves were now a major force in the war, they could hardly help taking an interest. For now they were putting their own affairs in order, but everyone knew they would not remain huddled here forever.

“Perhaps we'll have to march out and attack Conrad from the north in concert with Elvin.”

“Have you heard anything from Her Highness, Sir Shan?”

“No, I haven't heard much either—”

Shan stopped, startled by the sudden crack in his voice.

The knight gave him a puzzled look.

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing, it's just...”

Bewildered by this unfamiliar experience, Shan rubbed his throat. Had something gone wrong because he had been shouting so much lately?

Come to think of it, strange things had been happening to his body for a little while now. He had been oddly unable to sleep, and the joints all over his body ached as though something sharp were stabbing into them.

He had dismissed the minor pains as the result of pushing his body hard, but now it seemed that something really was wrong.