With sunset fast approaching, a visitor had arrived. Sent by the marquisate of House Leonar, he was an unwelcome guest.

He had called at someone else's home at this late hour without a word of advance notice. The owner could hardly be pleased. Someone sensitive to etiquette might even have felt insulted.

Yohan felt somewhat differently. He simply found the situation puzzling in several respects.

The marquisate of House Leonar had abandoned its own principles to plant a spy in his household. Now it had forgotten its manners and imposed an unwelcome visitor on him as well. Its current behavior was utterly unlike its portrayal in the original novel.

What on earth had turned those noble knights into petty schemers? Yohan wanted an answer to that question right now.

He looked at Haman. "How long until sunset?"

Haman answered uncertainly. "W-well, I cannot say exactly, but the sun will set within the hour."

Yohan turned toward the window. Twilight was beginning to settle.

'About thirty minutes, then.'

That was enough time for a brief discussion of the matter at hand.

Yohan told Haman, "Show our guest to the drawing room."

Haman looked worried. "... Will that be all right?"

He had spent the previous night in the mansion. It was decidedly different after dark: somehow desolate and sinister. As the rumors suggested, Yohan might truly be studying forbidden spells at night.

Yohan stared straight at him. "What are you worried about? That the Marquis might discover my true identity?"

Haman was thoroughly flustered. "Y-your true identity? What do you mean by..."

Yohan chuckled. "A joke. Stop worrying and show the guest in. Nothing will happen."

Haman managed an awkward smile of his own. "Haha. As you wish, then."

He immediately left the office. Yohan headed to the drawing room as well.

* * *

The moment Yohan opened the drawing-room door, gleaming golden armor caught his eye. The black lion emblazoned on its breastplate stared straight at him. The knight's gaze was every bit as imposing.

The knight inclined his head slightly toward Yohan. "Greetings, Watcher of the Abyss. I am Mamon Leonar, a knight of the King's Guard."

Since ancient times, House Leonar had served the royal family alone. Any knight bearing the surname Leonar was necessarily in royal service.

Members of the King's Guard, in particular, placed the royal family above their own house. In other words, the knight before him had not come as House Leonar's representative. He had visited Baron Miyatro's mansion as a spokesman for the royal family.

Yohan was a little taken aback.

'The king sent someone to me?'

The reigning king of the Kingdom of Artelga had no interest whatsoever in politics. He probably did not even know the Watcher of the Abyss had come to the royal capital. There was no reason for such a figurehead king to take an interest in Yohan.

Puzzled, Yohan spoke without letting it show. "A pleasure, Sir Mamon. I am Yohan Miyatro. Please, have a seat."

At Yohan's invitation, they sat across the table from each other. The knight spoke.

"First, allow me to apologize. I have been discourteous in calling at such a late hour. I am sorry."

The young knight seemed genuinely apologetic. His gaze wavered faintly.

'... Is he ashamed?'

Yohan could not quite understand his behavior. Visiting someone's home at a late hour was certainly rude, but hardly something to make a man shudder with shame. If the matter were truly urgent, an unannounced visit was only natural.

Besides, was this knight not representing the royal family? He ought to carry himself with confidence and dignity wherever he went, at any hour. Yet there was little sign of an easy conscience in his present demeanor.

The knight could not hide his shame. There was probably another reason for it.

Yohan spoke calmly. "Not at all. If the royal family has sent you without warning, there must be good reason. I understand, so please do not concern yourself."

The knight stifled a low murmur and looked at Yohan. His wavering gaze began to steady, taking on a certain resolve.

'What is this?'

The knight slowly began to speak. "Indeed. There is a reason I have called on you at this hour."

The atmosphere changed completely.

"Please, tell me."

"It has already been over three days since you came to the royal capital, Watcher. Is that correct?"

"About that long, I believe."

The knight's gaze sharpened. "Then why have you not sought an audience with His Majesty the King?"

The question was entirely unexpected.

'... Why haven't I met the king?'

The reason was simple. The king was nothing but a figurehead. The Council made all the kingdom's decisions, and the king approved them without even checking what they entailed.

Yohan had no need to meet him. Any time spent with the king would be an utter waste.

Of course, he could not say that to the knight before him. Momentarily at a loss for words, Yohan considered his answer before speaking.

"I have heard rumors of His Majesty's illness. My understanding is that he is currently in no condition to attend to affairs of state."

The knight replied, "This is not a matter of state affairs. As a noble of this kingdom and a member of the Council, you have a duty upon coming to the royal capital to seek an audience with His Majesty and inquire after his health. Why, then, have you not once presented yourself before him?"

The knight was right in principle. Even if the king were bedridden, Yohan ought to show a willingness to see him. He had to give the king the option of refusing an audience.

Yohan had not spared the king a thought. Any time devoted to him seemed far too precious to waste.

Yohan said, "I have been rather overwhelmed, having only recently arrived. I will call on him soon, so please do not take offense."

He had no intention of locking horns with the knight over the king. He wanted to put this subject to rest and get to the point. The sun would be setting soon.

The knight furrowed his brow. "His Majesty is most displeased. Might I suggest you call on him at once?"

Doubts filled Yohan's mind. He had assumed the knight was merely bringing up the royal audience to put him under psychological pressure before addressing some other matter.

He had been wrong. The audience with the king was itself the point of the visit.

Yohan found that deeply puzzling. A king who found everything a nuisance would never seek a meeting with him. Even if Yohan requested a private audience, the king would probably refuse.

Yohan asked calmly, "Does His Majesty wish to see me now?"

The knight nodded. "Yes. He ordered me to bring the Watcher of the Abyss to the palace as soon as possible."

Bullshit. The king would never give such an order. Having read the original novel, Yohan could be certain of that.

He quietly studied the knight's expression.

'He doesn't seem to be lying.'

Had the king been possessed by a ghost or something? There was no other way to explain this situation.

Yohan spoke. "It is rather late now. I will arrange an audience for tomorrow, tentatively."

The knight's expression hardened with resolve. In a low voice, he said, "Must I state that this is a royal command before you will obey?"

Yohan was incredulous.

'Why is he so persistent?'

At this point, it was practically as though a trap had been laid and was waiting for him.

Yohan stifled a low murmur. "... If it is a royal command, I will obey. Allow me some time to prepare."

He had no grounds to refuse the king's order. He needed to buy himself time to think, at least.

The knight nodded. "Very well. But do not keep His Majesty waiting too long."

Yohan left the drawing room at once.

* * *

Yohan's mind raced as he went back over their entire conversation.

'The knight was definitely ashamed.'

The knights of the marquisate of House Leonar valued their integrity as dearly as their lives. They would not tolerate the slightest cause for shame in themselves. If one of them let his embarrassment show, there had to be good reason.

What could it be?

Lost in thought, Yohan reached a conclusion: the knight was participating in a sinister plot under orders he could not refuse.

That hypothesis was very likely correct. If so, the source of those orders was clear: the king.

Knights of the King's Guard obeyed royal commands alone. The king took precedence over Marquis Leonar, the head of their house. An order from the Marquis could never have overridden a knight of the King's Guard's convictions in the first place. Only a royal command stood above those principles.

That raised several questions. How on earth was that figurehead king plotting something so sinister, and why? Could he have been the one who sent Berdan the Schemer, too?

Whatever the case, the king was definitely involved. Yohan clicked his tongue.

'This is a problem.'

He had to see the king right away. Even if he somehow got through today, the king would keep putting pressure on him. He did not even know why the king was behaving like this.

An unforeseen complication had arisen, larger than he had expected. Without the original novel to help him, he would have to navigate this situation on his own abilities alone.

In the dungeon beneath the baron's mansion, Yohan gazed through the bars. Berdan lay naked, facedown on the floor.

Looking at him, Yohan murmured, "... It looks like I'll have to use this bastard."

He could deal with the immediate crisis by using the power Mimic. Since Yohan could not operate at night, he simply had to send Berdan to the royal palace disguised as him.

It was clearly the best course of action. The peculiar unease he felt was another matter.

For some reason, Yohan felt that someone had deliberately led him down this train of thought. The gift of Berdan had suddenly fallen into his hands, and shortly afterward, a situation had arisen in which he had no choice but to use him.

The sequence of events was far too coincidental. He might be dancing to someone else's tune.

'... Am I reading too much into this?'

Yohan stifled a low groan. Anxiety and suspicion kept rising within him. The strain of worrying so much was beginning to clog his thoughts.

"Damn it!"

Cursing, he picked up a pair of iron pliers. First, he had to pull out a fingernail, quickly. After sunset, he would not be able to remove one of Yohan's nails even if he wanted to. He would have become Maphel’tan.

Yohan brought the pliers to his ring finger. He had done this once already, but the fear remained. A tempered soul was one thing; pain was another.

He squeezed both eyes shut and yanked the pliers.

RRRIP.

A sickening sound rang out. A pale white fingernail was caught in the pliers.

"Ghh, haaagh!"

Yohan gasped for breath. Blood poured from his hand.

'... It doesn't get any easier.'

The pain was truly horrific.

As he groaned, the pain abruptly vanished. Power began surging throughout his body. A pitch-black nail grew back where the old one had been torn out.

Yohan had become a Demon.

Maphel’tan tossed Yohan's fingernail through the bars. "Swallow it. I have a job for you."

Whatever the truth might be, he had no choice but to use Berdan in his present circumstances.