Acting as a Slit-Eyed Villain Perfectly

Chapter 214

Chapter 214. Hero and Fare (1)

After Lazlot left, silence filled the office. It was natural since I was alone, but today the quiet seemed even more pronounced.

'Not even a funeral is held.'

It was no surprise, honestly. No national cemetery awaited a hero in exile like him.

Though he acted for the Empire, in the eyes of the public, the "Sword Saint" was merely an exiled hero.

"So, you lived too freely in the end, master?"

After setting the watering can on the table, I gazed out the window.

The cityscape of the capital, the very stage of 'Kill the Demon King', felt peculiarly empty without the presence of the 'Sword Saint'.

'Hmm.'

A glimpse of silver hair and slit eyes—Yulian's face—caught my eye in the window's reflection.

It's still a mystery to me how he sees the world so clearly through those slit eyes.

"It's surprisingly quiet."

With the current situation, it occurred to me that Yulian might not have truly disliked "Hayden Reich" but maybe just didn't understand him.

The repeated threats to kill him were likely Yulian's arrogant attempt to correct his master's thinking.

'Yet, in the recording, he's the one who chopped off Hayden's head.'

Perhaps Yulian reacted then because he didn't desire that conclusion.

"As for me...."

I was surprised by how relieved I felt.

Hayden Reich strayed somewhat from the protagonist' I knew, but he didn't deviate completely.

He had his reasons.

His own perspective.

I just hadn't realized it.

'Eventually, what was shown in the teaser remains.'

Haaa.

A short breath escaped me.

My reasons for being here and what purpose brought me here grew murky over time.

"It's a complex time indeed. Naturally, of course."

Hearing my sigh, Zahard's voice came from behind the office door.

"Have you finally decided to come in?"

I knew he had been loitering near the office. I suspected he sent Lazlot as a distraction to gauge my mood.

"Yes, I thought things had settled down somewhat."

"There was no chaos as Sir Zahard seemed to expect."

"It wasn't nothing."

Clearing his throat, Zahard came in leisurely and sat on the sofa.

"For that, I'm relieved."

I wonder what message he was trying to convey.

"It means you're not a complete demon devoid of emotion."

A demon?

Playing Yulian's part, I was somewhat taken aback by his words.

'Have I really acted so demon-like?'

If so, it meant my "acting" was quite effective, but it left me feeling strange.

"Sir Zahard, what business do you have?"

Realizing the topic was veering off, I urged him to come to the point.

Clink.

In response, Zahard placed an iron piece on the desk.

It bore the Empire's seal. It didn't take long to recognize it as the 'Royal Elite Sword Medal'.

"I'm returning this."

"Returning it?"

"Well, since I've been released, there's no meaningful reason for me to have this piece of metal, is there?"

Zahard continued naturally.

Indeed. Giving him the "Royal Elite Sword Medal" was merely to avoid the absurdity of "conferring a medal to a convict."

Now that Zahard was free, the cumbersome "Royal Elite Sword Medal" lost its significance.

"It's too heavy a medal for someone as light as me."

"You spoke as if you were eager to have it."

"Eager? I value achievements more than metal pieces."

That metal piece was given in recognition of your achievements, wasn't it?

Before I could voice my thoughts, Zahard spoke again.

"Plenty have received the Royal Elite Sword Medal, but I might be the only one to return it."

So that's what he meant to say.

Watching him with disbelief, Zahard spoke again with a serious demeanor.

"Besides, it might come in handy."

Why?

Seeing my expression, he looked as if he understood without needing to see my eyes.

"With your master, the Sword Saint, gone, countless rumors will spread."

He was right.

Even now, newspapers were filled more with stories about the Sword Saint than the Dawn Society.

"In the current disordered state of the Empire, the Sword Saint's position should not be vacant."

"Yes."

"And that position, like a poisoned chalice, will be burdensome and cumbersome."

Whoever succeeded the Sword Saint would undoubtedly be compared to the towering figure of Hayden Reich.

They'd also have to bear the scrutiny of the royal family and the expectations of the nobility, making it a precarious role.

'If it were Yulian.'

He wouldn't care about such scrutiny but wouldn't particularly desire the position.

Moreover, Yulian and I shared one mutual belief.

'The position of the Sword Saint is meant for the Sword Saint.'

It matters not to me who claims it, as long as it isn't me.

"How is returning the Royal Elite Sword Medal related to this?"

"It's related."

Zahard nodded once.

"This medal is symbolic. A symbol of loyalty to the crown."

The Royal Elite Sword Medal, after all, can only be bestowed by a member of the royal lineage. As Zahard said, it symbolizes "loyalty" in tangible form.

"So, shouldn't it be returned? Especially if you don't wish to inherit the Sword Saint's title."

I finally understood Zahard's point.

He wasn't returning the medal to 'me'.

He was returning it to the issuing royal family itself.

'Denial of loyalty.'

The Sword Saint title inherently stems from loyalty that won't tolerate even distrust.

If the royal family is the sun, then the Sword Saint, glorified as a star, is meant to serve them.

"It's merely a performance, of course. Even if returned, should the royal family strongly oppose it, there's nothing to be done."

Zahard made an unusually compelling point today.

But it made sense.

'Yulian's intent to target the Sword Saint's title would be well-known if he remains in the capital.'

If he also returns the 'medal', the crown would naturally have to focus elsewhere, giving the "Smiling Executioner" some respite.

'A conducive environment for keeping a low profile.'

With that in mind, I accepted the "Royal Elite Sword Medal" from Zahard.

"Even if you ask for it back later, I won't return it."

"Why do so many, including that rascal, see me as a petty person?"

Watching Zahard's blunt speech made me chuckle internally as I tucked away the 'Royal Elite Sword Medal'.

"By the way, I hear there will be a funeral at the Reich estate, although there's no official mourning for Hayden."

"... Isn't the Reich family extinct now?"

The Reich family, with the Sword Saint's passing, was essentially extinct. No, it's accurate to say they truly were extinct.

"They say the Followers, are organizing it."

The Followers.

That made sense.

"I intended to stop by, but why don't you consider going too?"

Asked if I'd visit, I grinned slightly and rose from my seat. Zahard rose from the sofa too, handing me the coat hanging on the rack.

***

Rinne was surprised at how many attended.

She was amazed by the turnout at the Sword Saint's funeral.

Held at the Reich estate, it wasn't an "official" affair.

Thus, only the nobles would have been informed, yet many people gathered.

However, Rinne soon discerned the reason for their presence.

"It's been a while, Lord Wilton, I didn't expect to meet here."

"I think the same."

"To think the Sword Saint departed so abruptly."

"Speaking of which, our family is organizing a social gathering..."

For the nobles, this funeral wasn't truly about mourning the Sword Saint.

Rather, a place to observe ritual, a place for one to meet and greet, regardless of quien had passed away, had devolved into merely a social event.

Though vexed by this, Rinne held her tongue.

She wished for the ceremony to end without chaos, as a final respect for her master.

'... It's quite the crowd.'

With a dry gaze, Rinne surveyed the gathering.

She recognized many faces of notable nobles. Even members of the four major families were present.

"Did the Sword Saint leave any last words?"

"No, he didn't leave family behind to leave any will."

The nobles' conversation caught her ear.

Quiet, please.

Rinne wanted to shout but held back, overwhelmed by fatigue.

As the undertaker signaled, the Followers lifted the coffin, placing it gently into the prepared grave.

"This marks the end of the Reich lineage."

"They've been wiped out, truly eradicated."

The continuous chatter wore on Rinne's patience. She turned, intending to rebuke the nobles, when she glimpsed a familiar face approaching.

Yulian, presumably visiting to see his master's final appearance, had arrived with Zahard.

"Truly, if only the Sword Saint had founded a new family... huh!"

The speaking noble choked on his words upon seeing Yulian.

Paying them no mind, Yulian continued with his playful grin, stopping at Hayden's coffin.

"You."

Sebion stepped in front of Yulian.

"I've heard you were involved at the incident before the Sword Saint's passing."

"Yes."

"You wouldn't happen to have had a hand in it, would you?"

"If I did, what would you do?"

At Yulian's question, Sebion swiftly attempted to draw his sword, bending low and reaching for the hilt.

Though Sebion's sword-drawing was swift from his training, Yulian's right hand stopped him first.

"Ugh...ngh...argh!"

Sebion tried to draw with all his might, but Yulian's grip was insanely strong.

When Sebion's perplexity over being weak under Yulian's iron grip was inconcealable, Yulian twirled Sebion's body one full circle in the air.

Thud!

Unable to draw his sword, Sebion fell flat on the ground.

Just before Sebion could rise in rage, Zahard stepped in.

"Do you have something to say?"

Rinne asked as Yulian approached. He casually stepped up to the coffin, pulling something from his coat.

The Royal Elite Sword Medal.

A historical medal only given to those acknowledged by the royal family.

"Take it, master."

Yulian tossed the medal onto Hayden's coffin.

"It's a fare from your disciple for the afterlife."

Clacky's Corner:

Seems the main big bad will be the Imperial family.