Inheriting the Novel

Chapter 25 : Victory Ceremony (1)

Victory Ceremony (1)

While Clay was locked in a bloody battle with the demonkin—

At the Talua Kingdom's main camp, inside Duke Gale's command tent, calm conversation was taking place.

"So, that's how Sir Vanhart came to join the war."

"Yes."

During the time he stayed at the command tent with Monet, Duke Gale had been able to ask Monet about several things he'd been curious about.

"There have been quite a few rumors about Count Kaln."

The story of Count Kaln Vanhart going mad and the fall of House Vanhart was so widely known in the kingdom that there was hardly anyone who hadn't heard of it.

Duke Gale also remembered, as it had reached his ears even though he hadn't sought it out.

He remembered how Count Kaln Vanhart had attempted a number of absurd schemes, only to be blocked and fail each time.

"... It's strange."

"Pardon?"

"There was always something off in those rumors, but hearing your account makes it even stranger. Certainly, his actions are beyond common sense."

However, looking at the results, it was hard to leave it at that.

"But in the end, some of the things he attempted succeeded as if by miracle. Could it be that nobody saw the possibilities?"

"What do you mean by that, Your Grace?"

"Hm."

Duke Gale stroked his chin with his thumb and sank into thought.

It was still just a hypothesis, so it wasn't something to say lightly.

'Perhaps someone intervened, unseen.'

He realized he ought to investigate those who had contact with the count at the time he tried to conduct his affairs.

Had they really all given up investing simply because there was no possibility of success?

"But, Your Grace... is the young master truly going to be alright?"

"Sir Vanhart is a capable individual; there is nothing to worry about."

"... He's always managed to do whatever he set his mind to, no matter what."

Seeing Monet speaking in such a melancholy tone, Gale reread the report on Clay.

'He always pulls through, one way or another...'

Indeed, he had pulled through.

He had thwarted an assassination attempt, captured Baian, and even fended off a mysterious monster.

No matter how battered and broken, he had managed it somehow.

And this pattern had always persisted in his past as well.

'To have supported the count family alone since such a young age... Truly, he is not an ordinary man. I'm glad to have met him through this war.'

The rumors regarding Kaln Vanhart's madness had started about a decade ago.

Meaning, Clay had begun supporting the House Vanhart from his early to mid-teens.

Although the power of his house had indeed waned, the fact that it hadn't ended any worse was a tremendous feat.

There were surely plenty seeking to snatch up Vanhart count family's lands.

Though the retainers had gradually left, the evaluation by the territory's people remained very high.

Even amidst hardship, he had never failed to care for his folk.

After reading that far, Gale quietly set the report down on the desk.

"Miss Monet."

"Yes, Your Excellency."

Monet replied with a nervous face, and Duke Gale offered a wry smile.

"You probably hope that Sir Vanhart doesn't catch my eye, do you not?"

"N-no, that's not it."

"If he stays by my side, he'll inevitably be drawn into danger."

The assassination incident, the raid mission—this task force as well only came about with Duke Gale's approval.

He was not the type who could simply watch a capable individual rest idle.

But for this maid, that couldn't be a welcome situation.

"Even if it's hard and poor, you likely wish most for your master's safety. But unfortunately, I cannot grant that wish of yours."

Through these events, Duke Gale had come to realize—

Clay Vanhart would not end as a mere scion of a ruined count family.

"So I must apologize in advance."

The matter of the special task force, too.

Typically, in such a situation, the highest achievement for the leader could be capturing the enemy's commander-in-chief, prince Wolfran.

But Gale didn't believe Clay would stop there.

And should Clay achieve even greater feats, just as Gale expected...

"I intend to make him a hero."

At the upcoming founding festival of the Asktalin Empire—

He was planning to have Clay attend, where the best talents from across the continent would gather.

* * *

A heavy silence settled over the battlefield.

The Talua and Kainzel Kingdom armies had ceased fighting, all eyes drawn to a single spot.

They sensed it instinctively.

That the outcome of this war had already been decided.

And that it had been determined by a single knight.

"That was a demonkin just now, right? And not even an ordinary one..."

A monster that slipped through shadows, draining the blood of countless knights and soldiers.

Even advanced Sword Experts could not properly withstand it—making it at least of the intermediate-rank among demonkin.

Yet its head had been severed in a single stroke.

"Sir Vanhart...?"

Especially Tedric, who had fought alongside Clay, knew full well how incredible this was.

Even a blade imbued with sword energy barely managed to peel off its hide.

Yet just now, Clay's sword had sliced straight through the demonkin's muscle and bone.

'He's become a Sword Expert.'

Tedric realized immediately that Clay's level had skyrocketed.

He'd thought the time was near, but to reach the realm of Sword Expert in a moment like this!

'Some say people grow in times of crisis, but...'

It was astonishing, to say the least.

"Urgh!"

As Tedric's thoughts churned, Clay suddenly staggered and fell to his knees.

Tedric hurried to support him. Clay's body was icy cold.

"Sir Vanhart, are you alright?"

To his question, Clay nodded slightly, then slowly straightened up, swaying.

Taking a few deep breaths, he then gradually raised his right arm.

Even standing upright must have been an ordeal.

Yet Clay did not utter a single word of complaint, lifting his right arm high.

With the blood-soaked sword that had felled the demonkin, he pointed to the sky for all to see.

"Ah."

He was announcing the end of the war.

Even though he lacked the strength to shout it himself.

Only then did Tedric realize what he must do.

"... We have won."

Proclaiming victory on Clay's behalf with all his might—

That was Tedric Eaton's role.

"We have won! Ours is the victory—the Talua Kingdom Army has triumphed!"

Though the final cry was his, everyone on the battlefield knew it.

They knew who was the protagonist of this war.

That Clay Vanhart, successor to a ruined count family, had brought this war to its close.

"Our victory!"

With the shout of that single knight resounding across the quiet battlefield, thus ended this small war.

* * *

The war's end proceeded rapidly.

The Talua Kingdom secured the Rachmes Ridge that the Kainzel Kingdom had defended, and extorted a massive indemnity.

Though Kainzel attempted weak resistance, once news spread they had allied with demonkin, they could not avoid the continent's condemnation.

Moreover, as an investigation was opened by the temple of God Altair, it was safe to say Kainzel's future looked bleak.

[So, where are we headed now?]

'Probably to the kingdom's capital, since there's to be a victory parade.'

I lay back in the half-bed carriage, chatting with Grancesia.

Thanks to Michelle, most of my physical wounds had healed, but I had lost so much blood that I could barely move.

'Leaving Monet with Duke Gale was the right call. My luck really held out.'

[... Do you actually believe that worked?]

'I've never been unlucky when I trusted Monet, after all.'

[That could just be how it feels to you, you know.]

This "saint" really did lack faith.

Well, I was half-joking as well.

But I'd definitely have to test Monet's luck more concretely in the future.

'If I can figure out how it triggers, the applications are endless.'

I wondered if I could "acquire" it through narrative causality, but the requirements were so absurd I gave up.

To get it, you'd need to spend years—if you were lucky!

"Young master! Please close your eyes and get some proper sleep. You're not even fully healed yet!"

Just then, Monet, who rode with me, started nagging once more.

She had been half-fainting when I returned drenched in blood, but the moment I started recovering, she resumed her scolding.

It was the first time in my life that Monet had ever nagged at me so long.

[Didn't someone say not to lose your life, blinded by accomplishment? Not wrong, you know. That will get you killed.]

'... Don't say scary things. I only did it because I knew I could manage.'

[When you charged the demonkin, even I was petrified. If you die, I'm in huge trouble too, you know?]

I couldn't deny that. If I had used even a bit more blood with the Blade of Blood, it would have been dangerous.

'More than that, being stuck in this carriage makes me uneasy—I have no idea what's happening outside.'

I believed that by declaring victory, I'd left a vivid impression on the masses.

So I thought I'd regain the honor of the ruined Vanhart count family, along with plenty of praise...

But silence prevailed.

And so I spent several days quietly riding in the carriage.

[You're not being ostracized, are you?]

'No way. With all I've accomplished...'

Though I said as much, I was a little anxious.

Surely I wasn't just a pawn to be disposed of—after standing out this much, how could they just sweep everything under the rug?

"We have arrived!"

At that moment, the coachman called out.

And simultaneously, the door of the carriage flew open.

"Huh?"

Startled, I shrank back—

A group of maids in luxurious uniforms suddenly entered.

"We must prepare you at once. Please remove your clothing!"

"W-what?!"

Unsure what was happening, I turned to Monet, who seemed just as taken aback, frantically reaching out to the other maids.

"I—I'll help the young master prepare! Please tell me what's going on!"

"You'll soon be received by His Majesty the King! Do you think you can get ready alone?"

"H-his Majesty?!"

Wait, were these not ordinary maids but actual ladies-in-waiting?

"Hahaha."

As I was all but dragged from the carriage, Duke Gale greeted me with a benevolent smile.

"Your Grace, what is going on here?"

Somehow, a gigantic tent had been prepared.

Duke Gale stroked his chin with his thumb and grinned.

"You'll greet His Majesty as the army's representative during the victory parade. I pulled some strings for you, since you seem eager for attention."

"But shouldn't the commander-in-chief—Your Grace—be meeting with His Majesty?"

"Naturally, I'll be standing right beside you, so don't worry."

Faced with Gale's nonchalant response, I could only force an awkward smile without protest.