Wolves of Hader

Chapter 48

Art Syren was smiling.

It was an eerie smile.

He was definitely smiling, but one could feel a deep darkness. Maybe it was because of that bizarre red prosthetic eye.

When Art Syren stood in front of me, the heirs of the noble families around all fell silent. All of them were watching Art's mood.

That was how remarkable Art Syren's presence was. Even though he was hiding his magic power, you could feel he had a colossal amount, and he also radiated that dignified air unique to the strong.

Art alternated his gaze between me and Ross. The change in us brothers seemed quite surprising to him.

"I heard you had disappeared, but it's good to see you. Seems your skills have improved a lot since I last saw you."

Ross answered.

"You as well. Did your four years with the military amount to anything?"

"Not much to speak of. My so-called real combat was just hunting monsters around the western mountains."

Art Syren's gaze shifted to me. He shouldn't be able to sense my magic power, but it seemed he sensed something.

"Roger... There's something about you."

"What do you mean?"

Art Syren grinned slyly.

He must have guessed that Ross and I were lucky enough to have acquired magic power.

It couldn't even occur to him that it was the demon's essence.

He spoke.

"Will you be coming to the dinner party tonight?"

"What kind of dinner party?"

"Ah, this must be the first imperial banquet for you two. After the banquet hosted by His Imperial Majesty, there's a separate gathering just for the heirs."

Ross looked at me.

Ross knew, of course. He was just pretending not to know. He knew exactly what would happen after that gathering.

I nodded in agreement.

"In that case, we'll attend as well."

At Ross's words, Art Syren grinned slyly again.

Was he pretending not to know our intentions, or was he mocking us because he knew? It was ambiguous.

"The official banquet will begin soon. Distinguished guests of each house, please proceed to the grand banquet hall."

A palace official was walking among us, announcing that the banquet was starting.

Because of that, the strange standoff between us and Art came to an end.

Thanks to Art's arrival, the tense confrontation between Ross and that Rafarik guy also fizzled out.

The noble heirs headed for the imperial palace one by one. All the nobles gathered around Art Syren and walked with him.

I asked Ross,

"Art's prosthetic eye—is that because of me?"

"You don't remember that, either?"

"No."

After I, Roger, died and came back at thirteen, I lost all my memories.

I only clearly remembered the languages and culture I'd learned from very early childhood.

"When you were six, I think. You often played war games with him and those others you just saw. Back then, your toy sword poked his eye once."

"I see."

"It wasn't you who stabbed him. He was attacking you, and you both fell over and it happened by accident. But they all lied and said you stabbed Art on purpose."

"So that's the lie you mentioned earlier."

"Yeah."

"Art must've hated me a lot."

"He did. Elder sister Rozie and I thought that the reason the Syren family tried to wipe out our house was because of Art losing his sight."

It's as if all the reasons and causes that bound us in enmity to the Syren family are strung together.

But the impression I'd just received from seeing Art Syren lingered strongly in my mind.

I didn't know how exactly to describe it. It felt like some unknown sensation in me had reacted.

[Innate darkness.]

That's the phrase that flashed through my mind the moment I saw Art Syren.

His magic power certainly wasn't of the darkness attribute. But there was some strange sense of darkness about his power.

If this impression was because he'd taken the demon's essence, then he should feel something similar from me.

But Art Syren looked at me with an utterly emotionless face. He didn't look down on me; he didn't seem wary, either.

Was it because our demon's essence was different?

The one I'd acquired was untouched by humans for ages, but the one he'd taken had passed through many hands over thousands of years.

Just what was the reason for this strange sensation?

Was it because, unlike meeting a destined woman, I was meeting a fated enemy this time?

Time would tell.

We entered the grand banquet hall.

It made me wonder if there really were this many nobles in the empire.

There must have been easily a thousand people dressed in all manner of splendid clothing.

Well, you had to be at least a baron to become a state official, so there must be more than two or three hundred barons.

The wealthy merchants and their heirs must have been invited too.

It looked like everyone was mingling and chatting, but if you looked closely, the factions were fairly obvious.

There were three main groups.

The military. The Syren group. The neutrals.

The Syren family's faction was in the center of the hall, as if they were the very core of the empire, while the neutral faction gathered by the left windows.

The curious thing was the military faction.

They were somewhat split between the neutral and Syren factions, because both sub-factions were present among the military.

"That must be Count Watts."

"Right."

The one in the white uniform, lined with medals, was Count Watts.

As the commander of the Capital Defense Corps—the top unit among the five imperial legions—he was the heart of the current military leadership and the central figure among the neutrals.

I quietly studied Count Watts.

You could often tell what people were thinking by their reaction when your eyes met. But he didn't look at us at all.

However, a few people around him did sneak glances at us. On the other hand, people from the Syren family's side stared openly at Ross and me.

Ross said,

"The Syren family is conscious of us. The neutral faction seems to be deliberately ignoring us. There are more Syren partisans in the military than I thought."

"Around a seventy-thirty split."

"About that. After the grand duke seized power, a lot of their people got high positions in the military."

No nobles spoke to us. It was obvious the Syren family would pick a fight with anyone who did.

Also, the Syren side was on edge since one of the Secret Council elders had died the night before.

"I don't see the head of the Secret Council."

"He's probably off meeting with the other elders somewhere."

"A meeting, you say?"

That question came from someone walking by. It was a man in his mid-twenties with a wine bottle in hand.

"Why would the Secret Council elders be having a meeting?"

Both Ross and I fell silent.

It was too much on point for something he'd just happen to overhear. Had he been watching us?

And his appearance was a sight to behold—a tangled mop of hair, wine stains on his shirt, even mud on his shoes.

"Ah, I'm Mart. I work as a guard in the north of the capital. This is my first banquet, so I have no idea what's going on. Ha ha."

He was a complete mess, much too sloppy to be the grand duke's subordinate or a Secret Council investigator. Even introducing himself as a guard was strange.

Ross asked,

"A guard from the north of the capital?"

"Ah, that's just the work I do. My father made me come, but this sort of thing isn't for me. Tsk."

The man spoke, then proceeded to gulp wine straight from the bottle. He wiped the wine running down his mouth with his sleeve.

He was a peculiar fellow.

At first glance, he looked exactly the drunkard he appeared to be—both his clothes and his habit of wandering with a wine bottle in hand.

But the magic power he was hiding was no joke. Out of everyone I'd met here in the capital, he was second only to Art Syren.

Stronger than the guard captain.

He asked again,

"Something happen with the Secret Council?"

"One of the elders passed away last night."

"Ah, so that's why those folks over there are whispering. For a second I thought they were all badmouthing me."

By "those folks", he meant the Syren partisans. So, this man might not be one of them, or perhaps he stands apart from his own family.

The man laughed and said,

"Well, let's get along today at least. Why does everyone avoid me when I try to introduce myself? Is someone around here gonna eat me?"

With a grin, Mart raised his bottle for a toast. I didn't know what he was up to, but he didn't seem hostile to us.

"The grand duke has arrived."

At Ross's words, Mart and I looked toward the inner palace.

The grand duke and some elderly men were entering the hall in procession.

The head of the Secret Council, who must have received the warning letter today, was among them.

Standing among the elders, the robust man who looked just over forty was the Grand Duke Syren. He looked much younger than his age.

The Grand Duke Syren's presence as the Sword of Light was immense, but the power of his guard knights was impressive as well.

There seemed to be more Sword of Light wielders hidden among them.

With the empire's most powerful figure present, the heads of the leading houses all rushed to greet the grand duke.

Just then, Mart spoke.

"That's the Grand Duke Syren?"

"Yes."

"The Sword of Light is truly in a league of its own. How many years must one train to reach that level?"

"You've trained in sword technique?"

"I dabbled, just for exercise out in the mountains."

I almost laughed.

You trained "just for exercise"?

Ross asked again,

"You never attended the Royal Sword Academy?"

"My younger sibling did. I don't like rigid systems much, you see."

"What's your sibling's name?"

"I'd rather not say. Now that I think about it, your age and my sibling's are similar."

Mart looked to be about twenty-five. From the conversation, his sibling must have attended sword academy with Ross.

I looked over at the grand duke's group again.

The grand duke was quietly observing us. Art Syren, standing by him, was whispering something.

Neither Ross nor I avoided their gaze.

The grand duke wouldn't come over to us—there was too great a difference in our standing, at least in the eyes of others.

Mart also seemed aware of the attention from the grand duke and our reaction.

He had good instincts. Scratching at his bearded chin, it was clear he was puzzled.

He probably knew for sure we weren't members of the Syren family—the other nobles hadn't spoken to us at all.

But now that the grand duke was watching us, it made sense for him to be curious.

"His Imperial Majesty and Her Majesty the Empress are arriving!"

At that cry, the chatting nobles formed two lines.

A crimson carpet was rolled out, and the royal guard knights entered in formation.

Then, the Emperor and Empress walked into the hall with elegance. Only then did the nobles bow in respect to them.

When they passed before us, Ross and I placed our left hands on our chests and bowed.

As I did, I sneakily glanced at the Empress's belly.

She was not in an ordinary dress, but an ample one that wrapped her entire body.

I couldn't tell whether she was pregnant or not.

But the Emperor looked at us. First at Mart, then at me, then at Ross.

For every other noble, he had merely waved his hand in passing.

It made sense that he'd look at us—but why at Mart too? Did he know Mart?

How could the Emperor, who had been confined here for twenty years, know someone all the other nobles didn't?

The Emperor and Empress sat at the ornate seats at the head of the hall, with the royal guards forming up behind them, and the grand duke and the elders took their seats beside them.

The Emperor's birthday celebration proceeded.

The Secret Council head and elders gave congratulatory speeches, medals were awarded to newly promoted generals—it was a rather tedious affair.

Mart scratched his neck.

"Ugh, I'd never come to another banquet like this even if my life depended on it. I'll just go drink."

"If you're planning to drink, you should attend the heir's gathering. Duke Mart."

All three of us immediately looked beside Mart.

Standing there was a tall man.

He was clearly a high-rank knight.

"It's been a while, Vitan."

"It is a great discourtesy to absent yourself while His Imperial Majesty is present. As I said, please attend the heir's gathering."

"Do women come too?"

"Indeed, daughters of the empire's greatest houses attend as well."

"Then count me in. But..."

Mart's eyes sharpened.

"Why are you pretending to be friendly?"

The man called Vitan laughed.

"Well, since you're practically new to the world, someone who knows your face should at least guide you."

Mart laughed too.

"You bastard, what an act."

With that, the entire area fell still. Such vulgarity was completely out of place here.

Vitan laughed again.

"The head of a ducal house speaks rather roughly."

"Yeah. I don't talk roughly to real people."

An electric tension sparked between Mart and the stranger. Whatever their relationship, Ross and I were stunned for another reason.

There is only one ducal house in the empire.

It's a political rule that only one remains at any time. That meant this Mart was the Duke of Privy.

That such a disheveled man was the duke!

Had the ducal house also been wiped out?

How could nobody know?