“…I’ll issue a warning. Then I’ll return to the main citadel, finish my preparations, and come back.”

“My word! You didn’t pack before leaving, sir? Once you’ve received that sheath, returning to the citadel without your commander’s authorization constitutes unauthorized withdrawal. In the worst case, it could even be interpreted as treason. Of course, the clause is practically obsolete, so the penalty would be minor—but I’ll have to deduct points nonetheless.”

Gaven raised another finger.

Maybe I should drown him in some southern river on the way down.

Kyrie felt a strong urge to snap that finger.

Whmm.

Just then, the Saint-Mark flickered.

What—?

【Hero’s Journey – Stage 12】

【Stage 1: Adoption as Heir】
【Enter the main line of House Astreios and end the life of a bastard.】
【Failure Penalty: Death】
【Reward: Downstrike】

‣

【Sub-Objective 2: Acquire the Falling-Star Seat, “He Who Cuts the Dark”】
【A meteor burns itself to give light. Gain authority to cross the border in emergencies. Should a trans-lunar violation occur, the House will renounce you.】
【Reward 1: +75 % Celestial Lightning Body efficiency】
【Reward 2: Authority – “Endowment to Projectiles”】
【Failure Penalty 1: –25 % Celestial Lightning Body efficiency】

How many of these are there?

He had no idea why a new sub-objective had appeared now—
but the rewards were enough to make his eyes widen.

Twenty-five percent was this much. Seventy-five would be absurd. And “Endowment to Projectiles”? With my bloodline, mastering that before thirty would brand me a prodigy.

He already wielded the power of endowment—channeling current through a blade.

“Endowment to Projectiles” meant that current would persist even after leaving his hand.

An ogre can take a dozen javelins and keep charging—but one thrown spear crackling with current to the spine, and it would’ve dropped instantly.

Daggers, javelins, any thrown weapon—endowed and hurled with a Blue Knight’s strength—would strike with devastating force.

Fine. It’s a path I’d have to walk anyway.

Kyrie blinked once with his right eye to dismiss the text.

“But I still need to see Lady Andromeda before I go.”

He said it firmly to Gaven.

“As I mentioned, sir—”

“If I’m to be penalized for that, so be it. I’m sure even Starseat Terminus himself would understand my intent.”

Kyrie cut him off sharply, emphasizing Terminus’s name.

No matter how high the commander’s rank, penalizing a Blue Knight for paying final respects to a minor lord before deployment would look absurd.

Starseat or not—why should meeting my patron count as a fault?

“Well, that’s…”

Gaven hesitated. Claiming to act under Terminus’s authority, he had no choice but to yield.

If he refuses, he’s either insane or serving another lord—and House Astreios executes madmen on sight. Trisan… clever bastard. You sent me a real headache.

“My apologies.”

Gaven stepped back with a thin smile.

I ordered the men to prepare for departure, then set out for the citadel with Gaven and Jo.

“Pardon me, sir, but this isn’t the road to the Minor Lord’s Palace, is it?”

“It’s a shortcut. Been here more times than I have?”

I took the route that cut through the Electro-Arts training hall.

“Kyrie? Who are those with you? Don’t tell me you’ve already been assigned?”

“As it happens, yes. I’m leaving first—you can take your time catching up.”

“Ha! Go roll in the mud, then. I’ll catch up and surpass you in a day.”

“You’ll be rolling in that same mud.”

We traded easy jabs.

“Forgive me, sir, but casual chatter during an assignment is a serious demerit.”

As expected, Gaven couldn’t resist.

His master Trisan likely believed Nereus an ally, so Gaven probably assumed Nereus would side with him now.

“You out of your mind?”

“Excuse me?”

“You—neither knight nor Blue Knight nor bloodline—dare interrupt two Blue Knights speaking? And demerit? Did I hear that right? You’re a clerk with a quill on a chain, here to jot down whatever I say!”

Nereus seized Gaven by the collar.

“I am Evaluator to His Excellency Starseat Terminus—”

Gaven’s eyes flicked wide, as if he couldn’t believe anyone would actually hit him.

“Damn you!”

Nereus had struck his seniors before; this one was no exception.

The sound of impacts burst from Gaven’s body like drums.

“Let’s go.”

“Y-yes, sir!”

I hurried Jo away.

Minor Lord’s Palace.

“I didn’t think you’d be leaving this soon.”

“I wanted the posting processed quickly, too. But Trisan—he’s not making it easy. He’s saddled me with a whole wagon of trouble.”

Andromeda grasped the situation instantly despite the unannounced visit.

She hugged me the way an older sister might embrace a ten-year-younger brother.

“Don’t get hurt.”

Her scent was impossible to define—a sharp, refreshing spark that burst like citrus, softening into warm vanilla and faint rose, lingering like a summer breeze.

“Don’t worry,” I said honestly. “I have absolutely no intention of dying.”

If he died now, his soul would burn.

“I’ll return as the younger brother you can be proud of.”

If he didn’t, his soul would burn.

Andromeda hugged him once more, tightly, then released him.

Now it truly began.

The next day, I departed for the southern border—
the long frontier between House Astreios of the northeast, masters of lightning, and House Rykenta of the southeast, masters of wind.

From Astrion, the capital, to the southern boundary touching Rykenta lands was a distance vast enough to feel like crossing into another country.

Even the commoners differed slightly in appearance and dialect.

But neither I nor the Seventh Centuria had to march that impossible distance for months.

“Peaceful, isn’t it?”

“So it seems, sir.”

“Sir Kyrie, casual conversation with your vice-captain during duty is against regulations.”

“Maybe I should’ve brought Nereus.”

“Pardon? Did you just—threaten an evaluator? Intimidation or coercion toward evaluators is a serious demerit.”

Midday.

I stood on the deck of a sailing barge, wind from the river blowing against my face, watching the vast canal stretch straight south.

It connected to the famed “Black River” of Rykenta—a relic of the ancient empire that predated the Stellar Dominion.

The river flowed naturally southward; a vessel adrift would drift with it.
Yet the wind blew northward, so one could sail back simply by raising the sails.

Thanks to it, House Astreios could maintain dominion from the far northern highlands clear to the southernmost edge of the east.

Two weeks afloat.

By the time the weather grew too hot for even a single thin shirt, when sudden rains no longer surprised us, and broad-leafed trees and fruit unseen in Astrion lined the banks—

“This is the place.”

We had reached the southern border.

“Forever like lightning. Satellite Seat Kyrie of Astreios.”

“Forever like lightning. Planet Seat Izmael of Aer Astreios. I’ve heard much about you from Lady Andromeda. That cloak suits you perfectly.”

“A ‘gift’ from Senior Heir Trisan. Ah—and Lady Andromeda asked me to deliver this as well. It’s hardly as fine as my cloak, so I beg your understanding.”

“Such extravagant gifts aren’t for subordinates to receive from their lords. Still, I wouldn’t mind one from Senior Heir Trisan myself.”

Thanks to Andromeda’s letter to the local commander, the transfer and briefing went quickly.

“Your patrol sector runs from Zone Eleven through Zone Eighteen. Move from eighteen up to eleven—inspect towns and villages, suppress bandits and spies, subjugate beasts. Submit reports every three months. You may act first and report later so long as you don’t cross the border. Requisition and command authority are yours. Once you leave this fort, it’ll be two weeks before you see another major city, so stock up on supplies now.”

“Thank you, sir.”

After receiving a few practical tips, I set off toward Zone Eleven.

“Move out!”

The territories of Houses Astreios and Rykenta were vast, their shared border a “natural” one.
Strategic points hosted trade cities and governors; elsewhere, the houses ruled through contracts, vassals, or collateral branches.
But jungles and wildlands couldn’t be governed so easily. Leaving them untended risked beast proliferation, “waves,” or raiders preying across both sides.

For centuries—nearly a millennium—dukes had sent Blue Knights and governors southward, urging settlement and taming of the wilderness.

What were they doing for a thousand years?

Before seeing it, he’d assumed neglect.
Trade cities held all the key routes; surely they’d simply let the rest run wild within limits.

“Are those… trees?”

“Yes, sir.”

“They’re over a hundred meters tall.”

Seeing trees taller than the clocktower of the capital, packed thick beyond the city’s edge, changed his mind at once.

Beasts, bandits, border lords—none of it mattered; just marching through this place would be trial enough.

The southern jungles had their own traits.

“Hot.”

“Yes.”

Foremost among them—the heat.
I looked at Jo, who now resembled a drowned rat.

We’ll die of non-combat losses before we even fight.

Not from bogs or rivers, but from sweat.

He hadn’t known the human body could sweat this much.
Even his healthy face flaked with powdery salt like melted wax.

“Perhaps remove your quilted armor?”

“N-no, sir. I’m fine.”

“Fine? You might be, but the men aren’t.”

Despite his usual boldness, there was a delicate side to Jo—and today he looked utterly drained.

He’s putting himself through hell for my sake.

Even so, his refusal to remove armor was clearly driven by one intent: not giving Gaven any pretext to criticize.

“Divide the company. Everyone except the first and last five in the column, strip off your quilted armor.”

I gave the order to the Seventh Centuria.

“An excellent decision, sir!”

“Glory to Sir Kyrie!”

“Pile them on the wheelbarrows!”

The men brightened at once, stacking armor onto the one-wheeled carts Izmael had arranged in bulk.

The jungle paths are too rough for wagons. Take a few of these handcarts instead, he’d said.

But the soldiers’ smiles didn’t last.

“Sir Kyrie?”

“What is it?”

“Removing armor in the operation zone violates regulations. It’ll cost you points.”

“They’re still armed.”

“Armor counts as part of armament.”

Gaven pushed up his glasses with one finger, needling as always.

“Then you’ll wear quilted armor too—same as the men.”

“I’m not one of your soldiers, sir. I’m your evaluator. Different role, different attire.”

I muttered that I really should have brought Nereus, then quietly drew up a charge of mana.

Crackle!

White sparks snapped above my head, waves of static spilling outward.

“I’ll employ the Bio-Radar ability during movement. I can detect all motion within five hundred meters of me—a full kilometer in diameter.”

He’d expected the Elixir of Hundred Thunders to extend it to four hundred meters. It reached five.

“No more risk of ambushes now, wouldn’t you say?”

“Using abilities outside combat and wasting mana that could be vital later is also a demerit.”

Even after hearing that, Gaven didn’t back off.

“We march fifty minutes, rest ten. During rest I’ll post scouts and recover mana.”

“As evaluator, I must advise that ten minutes isn’t enough for full recovery. And in jungles like this, Bio-Radar loses accuracy.”

But if Kyrie ordered the men to don armor again, mutiny—or mass collapse—would follow.

Now that’s an enemy.

So he spoke the one line even Gaven couldn’t refute.

“As a Blue Knight, if you question my ability again, I’ll take it as a challenge to my honor.”

Even Trisan himself couldn’t have protested that.

He had already endured what Duke Peleus had called the final humiliation one must bear.

“…My apologies. No offense intended. But please note that I’ve conveyed the official standards and doctrines.”

Gaven’s teeth clenched.

“Don’t worry. I won’t accuse you later of docking points you never warned about.”

We continued marching.

Jo still hasn’t taken it off. Stubborn, loyal man.

Actual combat was rarer than expected.

Beasts were sensitive by nature. Most fled at the scent of iron and sweat.

The difficulty of subjugation lay in their behavior—they ran the moment knights arrived, then returned to raid once the knights departed.

Huh? These aren’t fleeing.

Some, of course, weren’t ordinary.

“Prepare for battle!”

White silhouettes flashed across his Bio-Radar.

Human-sized shapes closing fast.

Chapter 21

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