“Did I fall asleep?”

I blinked myself awake.

“Yes.”

Joi stood at my bedside in a freshly changed uniform.

“How long?”

I pushed up from the field cot—tough cloth stretched over a thin metal frame.

“About three hours since the battle ended. Do you feel foggy?”

“I remember dropping a dozen or so Heavenstrikes, leaping, and taking a Blue Knight’s head on Gracus’s side.”

“Heh. Then you remember the important parts.”

Apparently I’d blanked out from neural overheating.

A pleasant sense of distance hit me—like waking into a different life.

Only a few months ago, one Heavenstrike would send my nerves into overload; now I could fight a full bout and still drop another dozen and come out fine.

Given that the Celestial Lightning Body itself was up about three hundred percent, it had to be the synergy of the Lightning Elixir, the Elixir of Sacred Light, and daily training without a break.

And thanks to Whispered Transmission—True-Energy Guidance—I no longer had to throw maximum load onto my nervous system.

Using only ninety-five percent of the mana I used before produced the same effect.

I hadn’t realized a five-percent gap could be that big.

Whether you give your absolute best or not is a more important question than people think.

I shoved aside the dry voice in my head saying I’d end up half-fainted from neural overheating anyway, and got off the cot.

“You could lie down a little longer,” Joi said.

For a moment I was tempted, but I felt like I’d had an important thought right before sleeping.

If I didn’t pull myself together now, I might lose it for good.

“Anyone outside?”

I forced myself to say anything at all just to kick my mind into gear.

My head was clearing, bit by bit.

“Princess Erica stopped by a little while ago.”

If Erica had come and gone, it wasn’t a trivial matter.

“Call her—no. I’ll go.”

“Yes.”

For some reason Joi looked a shade downcast as she brought me my belt with the Sky Shard Cloak and the thunder longsword hanging from it.

I headed for Erica’s tent.

“You were looking for me?”

“Why didn’t you ask me to cooperate?”

Erica asked in a voice pitched higher than usual.

Her yellow brows pinched toward the center, her sharp green eyes hard. She looked a little angry.

“Because we can’t hand them a pretext that easily.”

“A pretext?”

“They could shout that I’m teaming up with Rykenta to bring Spiramentaon down.”

“Astreos can be that brazen too, I see.”

“They’re forthright and hold no grudges—good traits—but they’re also brutal and hasty. The house creed says anything you can do is fair to do, so they prize victory over truth. The winner’s word is law.”

“But if you want to win, you’ll need me.”

I corrected myself.

“I’ll ask for your help when victory is truly at arm’s length. Or when defeat is. Until then, just handle maintenance on the glide-cloaks and gliders, and keep the cannons and ballistas in order.”

“I thought anything you can do is fair to do.”

“Doing what you want to do and not doing what you don’t want to do comes to the same thing. Even if you can run complicated tactics and clever stratagems, it’s still like a lone charge with lance lowered.”

She sounded like she was more worried for her own side than for me.

“Don’t think about racking up battle credit for taking this city and staking a claim to your share of the merit.”

“...You read my mind?”

“I’ve already reported your presence to Lady Andromeda. I’m a blade she’s been honing a long time. If she thinks you might rust my edge, she’ll push you aside without hesitation. Right now you prove harmlessness before competence.”

At the plain words, color rose in Erica’s cheeks.

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

The prim downturn of her mouth looked, somehow, a little hurt.

It was odd.

That a direct scion of a great house would let her feelings move over the words of some bastard-born warlord super-soldier.

Anyone watching would think she was upset because I treated what she worried over as nothing but politics.

Even if all the stars fell from the sky, that wouldn’t be it.

“E-even so, make a plan to reinforce the army. You and Nereus will have to face Gracus.”

Erica added.

“Ah!”

Only then did I remember what I’d been thinking before I fell asleep.

“W-what is it?”

“I remembered what I’d forgotten. Thanks.”

I blurted my thanks and ran for Nereus.

“Loyalty. All clear on duty.”

“Good. Carry on.”

Nereus finished a light inspection and returned to the lines.

With buildings on all sides serving as both watchtowers and cover, an enemy surprise seemed unlikely.

Thanks to that, even after fighting in the daytime, command could ease a little.

Complicated.

With the tension draining from his body, stray thoughts rose.

Nereus replayed the day’s battle.

He had fought well.

He’d dropped three Heavenstrikes, and he’d cast Guided Lightning, Chain Discharge, and more Authorities than he could count.

He’d only conserved stamina for a war of attrition—he could have used more Heavenstrikes if he’d wanted.

The current gap was a temporary effect of the Lightning Elixir; if he kept drinking the White Lightning elixir and training, he could catch up anytime.

Catch up?

At the thought, Nereus ground his teeth.

Catch up.

The words assumed he was already behind.

He’d never cared much for map-and-compass doctrine or tactics, fine—but to have to catch up even in thundercraft?

A flame of rage flared up.

Nereus admitted one fact.

I’m following that bastard. Of course I can’t help but try to catch up.

Even if the position was political, the word adopted carved a gap from the start.

He would command more soldiers, fight more enemies, receive more medals.

As long as that virtuous cycle spun, Nereus would keep staring at Kyrie’s back.

I need to build my own warband. Even if we join forces temporarily as the situation demands, I have to keep basic independence. To do that, I need to become an adoptee first.

He came quickly to a conclusion.

And to become an adoptee, I first need adoptee-class strength.

For a Blue Knight, authority wasn’t something received—it was seized.

You gave a man who had the power to do it a reason to do it.

Nereus began writing a letter to House Tonatio.

“You in there?”

“Kyrie?”

Just then, Kyrie came.

Kyrie’s eyes were full of stray thoughts as well.

And just as full of the desire to shake them off.

They’d been friends for a decade.

“Save mana—no ranged Authorities. Just our heads and bodies. How about it? Though if you want, you can go ranged.”

At Nereus’s proposal, Kyrie laughed.

“Still bluffing to the end.”

They moved to an open space near command.

A soldier came panting with blunted practice swords; they stripped off magi-devices and drew the mana back.

“Like thunder forever.”

“Like a life worth remembering.”

They raised the practice blades and charged.

Astreos-standard swordsmanship favored thrusts, loved strings of linked moves, and chased speed.

Thundercraft affected the speed of thought itself.

Even cadet-branch cousins could swing at a pace that startled the direct scions of other houses.

Boom!

Nereus sprang diagonally over Kyrie’s head and spread a bright, wheel-like arc.

With Thunder-Step on one foot only, he spun like a bladed top and tried to mince his opponent.

Kyrie ducked low, slipped out under him, and unleashed a rapid-thrust sequence.

Tatatat!

Stabs came from front, back, left, right, above, below.

“Hah!”

Normally seven or eight in a row was considered a full string; break ten and people called it impressive.

Tatatatatatat!

Kyrie could drive twenty-one thrusts in a row.

Nereus used Thunder-Step to bound far back, then launched a driving attack—an upward, thrust-like cut chained with Thunder-Step.

Thoom!

If it landed clean, it could punch through even plate with protective engravings and churn an enemy’s insides.

Kyrie started a strange cut like clouds gathering and blowing apart, then abruptly switched to a knock-back.

Clang!

Nereus’s driving strike and Kyrie’s knock-back slammed head-on.

Nereus fell back several steps; Kyrie floated and dropped.

“Huff—huff!”

“Hoo—hah!”

“Feels like your limit. Don’t push it. You already collapsed once today.”

“Say that again without lowering your voice.”

They charged each other again.

The cross-guarded hilts locked.

“Son of a—!”

Nereus swore at the reprise of a trick that had caught him more than once.

“You think I’m that easy?”

Before Kyrie could take a Thunder-Step back, Nereus let his hilt go.

At the same time he rammed a fist into Kyrie’s face.

Thud!

It was a fist that could break a rock of the same size.

“Ugh!”

Kyrie reeled.

Nereus turned with liquid ease and slammed the opposite shoulder into Kyrie’s chest.

Crack!

A chain of body-technique—shoulder-checks and punches alternating.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

On the third in a row, the counter came.

Thump!

Kyrie drove the heel of his hand into Nereus’s solar plexus.

“Ghk!”

For an instant his breath seized and his body locked.

Kyrie’s leg folded in.

Whump!

Nereus’s big frame lifted and smashed into the ground.

“Surrender?”

Kyrie climbed onto his chest and asked.

“Fuck off!”

Nereus shot back, both big hands lunging up rough and mean.

Their bout went on until the moon shone full and bright.

“Huff—huff.”

“Here?”

“...Here.”

Midnight.

They sprawled on their backs in the dirt, catching their breath.

A little way off, Frey and a few Knights watched, half guard detail, half audience.

Neither Nereus nor Kyrie cared.

Nereus suddenly decided every thought and feeling that had come earlier was meaningless.

What was I ashamed of, and what was I afraid of?

What you truly should fear is fear itself.

What you truly should be ashamed of is shame itself.

“I’m going to borrow an army.”

“What?”

“You remember why I’m cooperating with you.”

“You said you’d become an adoptee too.”

“To unseat a governor who joined hands with the Royal Stellite Line and tried to assassinate the adoptee, I’ll call in a regiment of heavy cavalry.”

Play to your strengths to the limit.

That was the way you won.

Kyrie was pushing his backer, Andromeda, to the line as well.

Nereus intended to do the same.

“Obviously, their command is mine. This isn’t your revenge; it’s for the house’s discipline and order, so don’t even think about interfering.”

Nereus braced for Kyrie’s pushback.

An army of sheep led by two lions was worse than an army of lions led by one.

No Blue Knight would like hearing that the warband would be split once more.

“Do it.”

“If you really don’t like it, we can duel again tomorr—what?”

“I remember what I said. Let’s keep fighting.”

Nereus felt like he’d been slapped.

“Thanks for backing every operation I’ve run so far. Now it’s a race to see who takes Gracus first.”

Under the moon bright as day, Kyrie looked at him with a smile like moonlight.

“Until the heavy cavalry arrive, I’ll ask your cooperation. And after they arrive, let’s coordinate at the grand-operational level. Jointly maintain command. I want to avoid being defeated in detail.”

Nereus couldn’t make sense of Kyrie.

What is this?

The feeling was far stranger than when he’d been slammed, punched, and dumped on his back.

What is this!

Kyrie, heading back to his tent, was laughing out loud on the inside.

Unbelievable!

If possible, he’d been planning to ask his father if they could borrow troops.

I’d steeled myself for him to say I’d have to call you “big brother” for life, or hand over acting baronial authority for the Helix Barony, or report Erica’s capture under his name—something like that.

They bickered all the time; he’d been so embarrassed to ask a favor that his head was full of junk thoughts.

But Nereus had offered to bring an army first.

The mental humiliation and the material compensation he’d prepared were all unnecessary.

For Kyrie, who’d been ready to pay dearly, it even felt like getting money instead.

Should I have gone easier on his solar plexus earlier? Hold on—he’s not planning to sweep me away with the heavy cavalry and then cut a deal with Traysan, is he? I really can’t let my guard down.

It was a good night.

A certain underground chapel in Spiramentaon.

“What shall we do now?”

“It’s practically a civil war.”

“I judge the governor has the advantage.”

“I think the adoptee will win.”

“There’s no need to split hairs. Either way, Erica goes up to the capital. If the adoptee wins, as proof of victory; if the governor wins, as proof of collusion. We have to go to the capital either way.”

“...”

A brief silence fell over the meeting.

“And write to Traysan. A man who feels betrayed will inevitably betray, and a man branded a traitor will inevitably commit treason. Let’s make his ‘false charge of collusion’ into a charge that isn’t false.”

Chapter 91

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