The meeting room in the governor’s mansion.

"Finally— finally, it's finished. I mean it, it's fucking finally done."

"Finished? What is?"

"The march plan. We're going to advance deep into the jungle for weeks, possibly months. But if too many camp traders follow us, the march will slow down, and if too few come, we won’t have supplies. So I mapped a marching schedule. We calculated when and where we'll be at each stage, and arranged to meet camp traders in the minor towns along the route."

Joy burst into tears.

How could anyone come up with that in a day or two? Is that something a human mind can calculate? It should have taken at least a week.

Kyrie also felt like crying.

This is bad. Now there really is no excuse not to depart.

Joy pointed toward Gabeng, seated in one corner.

"I will acknowledge this. Evaluator Gabeng worked hard on the numbers."

"Yes, yes. Though it makes no sense that an evaluator is assisting the evaluated party’s strategy— somehow that is where we are. Deputy Joy came at me with Lady Peijin at her back; what was I supposed to say?"

"You worked hard."

Kyrie thought he should have left Gabeng behind in Astreios Stronghold.

"Now we can really depart! It’s all thanks to you, my lord. I only say it now, but when we lost the funds and the camp traders all pulled out, I really thought we were dead."

"You look happy."

"Yes, I am happy. When my lord dedicates himself so hard to serve the House, how could I, your adjutant, sit around doing nothing? I actually accomplished something useful! I’m really proud!"

Joy’s grin was sly, but bright.

Damn it.

Kyrie wanted to cry even more.

I was secretly hoping it wouldn’t work out…

Gracchus would obviously obstruct them.

But the mutated beasts and House Rykenta’s invasion were an undeniable fact.

I thought maybe we could delay things with excuses until then.

Now that everything had gone well, they couldn’t stall for time.

The supply plan is complete. If we don’t depart now, Gracchus could report that my will to exterminate the mutated beasts is lacking. And if that happens, Trisan will be thrilled to jump up and argue that my adoption should be revoked.

If they had tried their best but failed due to Gracchus’s interference, that would have been acceptable.

But now that everything had genuinely succeeded, Kyrie had the obligation to continue succeeding.

Once someone proves themselves capable—

They must keep doing so.

There’s no helping it.

Kyrie raised his head.

"Has Governor Gracchus paid the military funds?"

"Not yet."

"The deadline was yesterday, correct?"

"Correct."

"Let’s go collect."

"I doubt he’ll hand it over quietly."

Joy voiced her concern.

"I think the same."

Kyrie had anticipated this from the start.

"Form the marching formation as arranged. We have an army now— there should be no problem. Let’s show them how well-prepared we are."

"Yes!"

Joy saluted.

"Yes— what?"

Gabeng stood up with a jolt.

"Are you saying we’re going to threaten the Governor?"

"He clearly promised to deliver the funds by yesterday. A Blue Knight would not lie, so something must be preventing him. And for someone of his rank— how could he resolve such an issue without an army?"

Kyrie said, brazen as ever.

I don’t know. I truly don’t know. Now I just have to do whatever it takes. If necessary, I will seize funds by force to maintain the army, use that army to exterminate the mutated beasts, crush Rykenta, and earn merit. That’s the only way Andromeda lives, and I live.

Since last year he had been in a state of blind devotion— both physically and mentally.

If worst comes to worst, I’ll fire a field ballista into the governor’s mansion.

A realist whose soul had already been pawned moved forward as if destroying reality itself.

Kyrie and his army marched down the central avenue of Spiramantown.

Naturally, Kyrie led the front.

He wore the Sky-Shard Cloak Trisan had gifted him and rode a fine horse.

To his left and right were his implicit seconds— Nereus and the guard knight Frey— with Adjutant Joy beside them. Beside them marched Prochus and Epichus, and the rest of the Blue Knights.

Behind them followed over three hundred superhuman personnel: free knights, oathbearers, retainers, each displaying their banners and heraldic colors.

And behind them, the main host of soldiers marched in step:

Heavy infantry for crushing goblins and kobolds, spear and net-thrower units for orcs and lizardmen, field ballista crews driving ballista wagons, and sword-and-shield infantry guarding the ballistae…

Fifteen mercenary companies of Hundred-Commander scale, including Peijin’s forces, arranged under Joy’s structure.

The spears and swords polished with the fine oil Gluttony had procured gleamed so brightly they stirred hearts before they ever took lives.

"Is that Lord Kyrie? The one-eyed Blue Knight? He really does look as striking as they say."

"They say he has close ties with Sub-Lord Andromeda and Senior Adopted Son Trisan. Look at that cloak— it’s a magic artifact with multiple enchantments."

"Aren’t those the two delinquent brothers? They say they dueled Kyrie and lost and were taken under him— so it was true."

"He’s been here less than a month, hasn’t he? And he formed an army like this in a month?"

"I heard that when Lord Kyrie raised his banner, knights gathered on their own. Stormclouds and lightning always converge. A hero recognizes a hero."

"He must really want to take back the border."

The million citizens of Spiramantown were transfixed by the sight.

It was an anxious time.

Mutated beasts prowled the jungle and destroyed villages.

Rumors among traders claimed that superhuman navigators of House Rykenta had been sighted.

Countless mercenary knights mobilized and departed— but none returned.

"What is our Governor even doing?"

"They say he tried to block Lord Kyrie from departing. He even told camp traders not to sell to him."

"What? Is that really our Governor? Isn’t he a Rykenta spy?"

The situation was dark as thunderclouds.

Kyrie was like a lightning bolt splitting that darkness in half.

Despite the fortune of being adopted, he had left the glittering central lands to head for a border filled with danger.

He truly looked like a disciple of the Thunder-Lord who illuminated the people.

"They say the order to forbid trade was real."

"Did he take bribes from the navigators?"

To citizens, Governor Gracchus— trying to hinder Kyrie— appeared as a traitor defying the Constellations.

O Dreaming Thunder-Lord, protect your chosen Kyrie. He has too much left to do in this world.

They brought their hands together and prayed.

At that moment, Kyrie reached the steps of the governor’s mansion.

The one-eyed Blue Knight dismounted and walked toward the entrance.

Please, just pay and let this end. Please.

Kyrie's prayer was of a different sort.

"You insolent fool!"

Gracchus had no intention of granting that prayer.

"You— basking in the Sub-Lord’s favor, have become so arrogant the sky itself should tremble! Do you think yourself the lightning that strikes the heavens? Everything has its proper time. Clouds must gather before lightning strikes, and thunder must rumble before lightning falls. If you simply waited, your military funds and supplies would arrive on their own. Go tell him this: What you are doing now is no different from complaining that one hammer blow does not make a sword!"

He screamed from his office window until the glass rattled.

Only the attendants suffered, blood trickling from their ears.

But the shout contained more panic than anger.

How did he complete the formation?

There was no money.

No supplies.

No camp traders.

So why were knights following this one-eyed Blue Knight?

It was like forging a sword with no forge, no bellows, no anvil.

Gracchus grabbed the report Joy had left behind last time.

[Recruitment Notice

Extreme danger. Mutated beasts. Low pay. Jungle march. Unknown enemy. Survival uncertain.

Success grants honor and glory.

Kyrie of House Astreios.]

A flyer was attached to the front.

Honor and glory?

For a moment, Gracchus felt as though he had been struck by Kyrie’s lightning.

Instinct— sharpened by years of governorship— surged through his spine like a current.

So he intends to repay from what he takes!

That was the common point between swindlers and heroes.

The difference was that swindlers failed— and heroes succeeded.

"He must have promised the knights Hundred-Commander positions and dominion over villages! In exchange, they hired the camp traders themselves?!"

The two were nearly indistinguishable.

Gracchus believed he understood Kyrie now.

"He assembled over two thousand elite troops and more than three hundred superhuman fighters— without spending a single coin of his own."

Not only that:

"The salaries of Border Patrol Hundred-Commanders and their operational funds come from my purse as Governor. And the military funds he’s here to collect— also from my purse. He built his army with my money, and now intends to collect more of my money on top of it!?"

Kyrie had completely played him.

"I can’t go out and fight him."

Before worrying about Andromeda’s retaliation, he simply had no justification.

"And I can’t stall him now that he’s arrived with a completed army."

He had already shown the army to the citizens.

If he refused to pay now, the citizens would not blame Kyrie— they would blame Gracchus.

Checkmate.

There was no escape.

A lightning bolt striking down in an open plain with nowhere to hide.

"…My lord? My lord! Are you alright?"

"Let us go deal with him and teach him a lesson!"

When he came to, Gracchus was bracing himself against the window frame, breathing hard.

Meanwhile his Blue Knight subordinates were prattling about "teaching a lesson."

"No. Stand down."

He did not bother asking how they would defeat the knight who had beaten the delinquent adopted brothers.

They obviously couldn’t.

There was no point bruising their pride.

He still had that much judgment.

"I withdraw."

Gracchus conceded.

At least let it look like it was taken from me. So I can use that later.

The Governor who controlled coin had been defeated by the Blue Knight who served the Constellation.

A decision loss.

The Sub-Lord’s Palace in the Astreios Stronghold.

Twilight burned across the sky beyond the window.

Screee.

"My lady."

"You came."

The head maid glided in and presented a report.

Andromeda opened it and read silently— swiftly.

"This is certain?"

Her voice was low.

Her fingertips trembled slightly.

"Yes. The House’s alchemical division and the artisans at the Seal Workshop all confirm the same."

The answer was firm.

No exaggeration. No misunderstanding.

"I see. Then acquire more research samples. Keep it confidential. Use all intelligence resources necessary. Just make sure Trisan does not learn of it."

"Understood."

Andromeda nodded and held the report above the candle flame.

The fire devoured the paper piece by piece.

Her gaze was already fixed far to the south.

Kyrie. You really are fortunate.

Slow clouds drifted across the blood-red sky.

Since you have become my good fortune, I will make your good fortune into happiness.

In moments the paper shriveled black, then crumbled into pale ash.

The line that mutagen extracted from the beasts greatly enhances magical capacity—
Knowledge that could shake the world—vanished there entirely.

Chapter 57

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