I do not own Rising of the Shield Hero
Sadly I have lost contact with Comrade Broseph since my last update. I don't want to give away any of his private information, but he was dealing with some pretty heavy stuff so I can only assume he no longer has time to help contribute to this story. I still want to give him my thanks for his help so far, since his attention to detail really put this story on the map. But I will still continue by myself, and apologies if there's noticeable drop in quality from this point onward.
The POV character from this Interlude is an OC from fellow writer Pretty Lazy's story 'The Rising of the Four Heroes' take with his permission. It's a story where instead of from four different Earth, the cardinal heroes are summoned from a single world where they are already roommates. Most definitely recommend everyone to check Pretty Lazy's story out.
This chapter is edited for SPAG mistakes by Ace-Triad. Big thanks for Fluffball13 for reading over this chapter.
More author note at the end for anyone interested to read me blabber some more.
Even after a few decades serving in the court of glorious Melromarc as the king's personal retainer, Aldrecht still did not like his official title of the 'Royal Battle Mage'.
He likes to think of himself more as a cerebral researcher, not as someone who wields the delicate art of the arcane, but more like a thug wielding a nailed plank. But the title itself dates back to the First Grand Alliance of Men, before the first recorded Wave of Catastrophe when a mage's duty is more often on the battle field against the beastmen savages, rather than researching the secret of the universe in a tower, library or laboratory. So the aging wizard hailing from Faubley simply lets it slide, and does his duty whatever and whenever it is asked.
Needless to say, he didn't expect to be woken up from his magic depletion-induced slumber by a heavy knock on his door. "Master Aldrecht, wake up! Captain Lothringen called for you! We need you to calm down His Majesty!"
"I'm awake. Do not be alarmed, I'm awake." The elder mage slowly rubs sleepiness out of his eyes as he rises up from his bed. He gives a quick glance to the window before his feet touching the floor, noticing the sun hangs low towards west, indicating the time is now in the late afternoon. The Royal Battle Mage takes a precisely measured step towards the door, opening it to reveal a looking young guardsman with a tilted to the side helmet over his messy mop of dark hair. "What is the problem here, guardsman?"
"His Majesty is losing his mind after hearing some rumors regarding the Shield Demon!" The haggard looking guardsman quickly sets his helmet straight. He suddenly scrunches up his face, seemingly realizing just how disrespectful he's addressing their Wise Sage King. "I'm sorry to disturb your rest, Master Aldrecht. But the captain is at his wits' end, and all we managed to do is restrain the king. You are the only one who can calm him down now!"
"Ah, we can't have that now, can we? If you would wait a moment for me, let me change to a new set of robes to freshen up and we'll go see to our king's need." With a slight wave of his hand, Aldrecht tells the young guard to stand outside his chamber as he shut his door. He quickly exchanges his shirt for a fresh new set and leaves the dirty cloth by a basket near the door for the servants to pick up.
The aging mage takes a scroll out of the safe near his bed and secure it inside his new robe. Aldrecht makes another inspection to make sure his personal storage is secure and gives one last look around his room to make sure everything is in order before finally stepping outside.
It's clear the poor guardsman is also near his wits' end just like his captain by the way he twitches around on his toe. The only thing stopping the young man from saying anything is the fear that comes from their social status. Regardless, Aldrecht still takes a few moment more to securely lock up his room. There's enough artifacts or even research journals inside the personal chamber of the Royal Battle Mage to endanger the nation if they fall into the wrong hand, after all.
Aldrecht briefly wonders how can the Shield Hero causing this much distress to Aultcray. The ritual to summon all four heroes was taxing even for his considerable mana reserves, to the point the Royal Battle Mage has to put himself into a recovery coma afterwards. But it shouldn't have taken him more than a week to make a full recovery. Yet, it still seems like the Shield Hero still manages to do something that drives his old friend up a wall.
He did grant some mercy to the young guardsman and pick up his pace. He is also quite worried of the king, after all.
Interlude 2: The Preparation of the Loyal Mage
The Royal Battle Mage did not expect to hear the ravings of a complete lunatic, or the pitiful state he finds the king. His old friend, who Aldrecht considers a brother in everything except blood, is currently being hold back by two guardsmen in a chair. He is obviously trying to wiggle his way out of confinement, judging by the way he twitches around on the chair. Yet despite his best effort, the king is held secure by two common guardsmen like he's in full magical retraints.
"I'll kill him! I'LL KILL HIS WHOLE FAMILY!"
It's a pathetic sight really. Granted, Aultcray is an Archmage and thus has one of the worst physical attribute for any prestige class. But there is still no reason for someone who is at the pinnacle of prestige level range to have any problem with a couple of level 10s.
The Royal Battle Mage shakes his head at the foolishness in display. "What did the Shield Demon do this time to incur your fury, Your Grace?"
The king suddenly freezes in his seat upon hearing Aldrecht's voice. Aultcray slowly turns his head to look at the old mage as his desperately flailing body stills. His mouth trembles behind his impressive beard as his body gives out one last uncomfortable twitch under the guards' hands. "Ah, Aldrecht, my old friend. Sorry you had to see me like that. I didn't know you were awake already."
"No rest for the wicked, I'm afraid." Aldrecht chuckles at his old friend, who looks more like a child with his hand caught in the cookie jar, rather than the wise old king people look up to for guidance. It almost makes him feel pity that he has no recording crystal to capture this rare moment. "What do you say we talk about it over a game of chess... and some Junius wine I been saving for special occasions?"
"Ha! I knew you of all people would have some Siltvelt tribute saved up since the last time those savage animals paid us in reparations!" The king seems to be bouncing on his seat in glee for a split moment, his voice jumping up a few octaves. He quickly covers himself with a series of loud coughs, and replies with the dignity befitting the Wise Sage King. "Yes, that would be agreeable. I can better plan on how to bring the Demon of The Shield to justice after I have a clear head."
It appears the young guardsman was right. If not even raiding Aldrecht's personal Junius wine stash can't take Aultcray's mind away from the Shield Hero, then he is more focused on the plucky young otherworlder than what could be considered healthy for most.
The chess game started innocent enough. The pair of old friends each pick a color they each play as and start setting up their board.
They exchanged some pleasantries with each other, and in Aultcray's case, relegated some recent news to Aldrecht to get him up to date. The most noticeable being a group of Church of The Three Heroes zealots living as squatters in the slum having attacked the Shield Hero's party including the first princess. Thankfully, no one besides the squatters were hurt in the process.
Oh, and apparently the first princess did not frame the Shield Hero as planned, and stayed in his party till now. She is trying to gather information about the Shield Hero and gaining his trust for the time to plant a dagger in his back. At least, that's the excuse she gave to their agents who is currently in the party of the other heroes.
Preposterous! The first princess is good at using her charms to swing other people, especially other men to her side. She is also extremely spoiled and cuddled by Aultcray, and the Royal Mage seriously doubts she'll be willing to live a life away from luxury even for a week.
Unless she's trying to gain something greater in return.
"You know, my old friend ... I always wonder how those savage beasts manage to make some of the best wine on this earth. Is it from the bounty of lands they stole from us, the kind of forbidden fruit they no doubt harvested from the chaos of the Wave itself, or ... while I hesitate to give those barbarians any credit, but mayhaps some kind of special brewing method they hide from us?"
Aultcray levels the glass in front of his eyes to look at the rosy liquid contained inside. The king gives a slight shrug, and takes a light sip of his drink. He closes his eyes to savor the taste and slowly sets the wine glass besides the board. "It's almost a waste."
The Royal Battle Mage doesn't need more clarification to know what his king means by it. He wordlessly moves a knight piece into his favorite position. At the same time, the battle mage keeps his eyes focused on his old friend, looking for subtle clues that are invisible to all but the selected few who has known Aultcray for a good few decades.
The king's posture and movement are regal and befitting his reputation of the Wise Sage King. But for the lack of better word, Aldrecht notices there is a certain deliberateness to his every movement. Like how Aultcray takes a second too long to hold his wine glass before reaching for his own chess piece, almost like the king is afraid to knock it over and spill the precious liquid within.
For people who don't know the King well, his caution can be taken as a positive. But the Battle Mage isn't one of them. While Aultcray can be prudent when the situation calls for it, he has always been a highly emotional individual when he's surrounded only by the people he trusts. And the facade of the regal wise king is nothing more than a tool he uses to command respect from both his underlings and enemies rather than a source of personal pride he maintains even with old friend.
And considering his earlier outburst in his study... this meticulous act of trying to appear dignified rises more than a little concern for Aldrecht. "Does your wrist still hurt, old friend?"
"It was barely a flesh wound." The king tries to brush it aside, but the slight twitch of his hand tells the mage a different story.
"Even set aside how unhealthy it is to lose that much of your blood, the curse that comes with the ritual is nothing to scoff at, Your Grace." Aldrecht picks up his own wine glass and takes a sip while the king proceed to move his own chess piece. "From a purely academic perspective... I am almost interested to observe and record down everything that comes with the 'Curse of the Broken Covenant'. I don't get to witness a mythical curse happening right near my laboratory with all my research equipment."
"Yes... I always wondered myself why such a useful ritual is considered taboo, and was fiercely guarded by Qten'Lo before its fall at the hand of Mikage Mikami, the King of Rape. 'They who broke the sacred trust of the covenant will face the consequence most dire'... I always thought it was nothing more than mere superstition for those sea rats dwelling on their puny pebble in the middle of nowhere to make them look more important than they truly are. It turns out, the price to deny rival countries their access of a Cardinal is grave indeed." The king purses his lips and nods his head in a sober manner. He slowly rolls his sleeves up to look at his waist. Instead of healing without the trace, the scar of the cut is now an eerie black color.
This is peculiar to say the very least. Life on Medea is hard on account of the dangerous monsters, and the occasion scrabbles and unofficial raids between the nations. While injury is just another part of life, people don't receive scars very often thanks to the abundance of mana within the air everyone breathes. It is well known an eight hours long [Well Rest] can cure most of wound except for the most dire ones.
Such as cursed scars. They are either caused by the damage of a Wavespawn monster, the Cursed Series legendary weapons, or some other means. They can't be healed by sleep alone. In fact, if a cursed scar is left to fester, they will often deteriorate to the point of permanently cripple the bearer, or cause death in the worst cases.
Holy water produced by the Churches being one of the few effective treatments for cursed scars is part of the reason why the different sects of the Church are both wealthy and powerful throughout the ages.
"If you would allow me, old friend." Instead of continuing their game, Aldrecht inclines his head closer to inspect the king's wound. Aultcray makes no attempt to stop him. The mage makes a quick mental note to examine it in more extensive details once the situation permits. "From the surface level, it looks very similar to records of heroes who suffer from cursed scars."
"Yes, indeed. Biscas came to a very similar conclusion on his own. At least as far as he can tell, it's not going to get worse to threaten my life. It does block the access of my wand to me and all its benefit." The king nods his head once again before letting out a mirthless chuckle. "Three Cardinal Weapons... and the shield of the devil for a vassal weapon. I suppose it's a fair trade. As long as the heroes can quickly grow their strength and protect our nation."
"You already confided with the 'Miracle Maker'. A sensible action I suppose, with him being an expert on faiths and curses and I indisposed of after I depleted most of my mana reserves to conduct the hero summon ritual." The royal mage runs a finger alongside his chin as he inspect the board and nods his head. He moves another one of his piece forward to meet Aultcray head on. "Still, is it such a good idea to reveal your debilitating weakness to someone outside of your court? Balmus was a steadfast ally back in the Great War against our common enemy, but the Church of the Three Heroes IS a separate entity from the royal house of Melromarc."
"Who can you trust, if you can't count on the man who saved your life on multiple occasions, you yourself also repaid the favor in spilled blood back a dozen times."
Aldrecht represses the urge to sigh at the dedication of his old friend. Aultcray's stubbornness was an admirable trait when they were rounded up and hunted down like animals by the Siltvelt occupation forces, yet he kept all of their heads up through it all. But now, the same strength of character he uses to hold his ragtag group of resistance fighter together is currently stopping him from seeing a big threat very close to home. "Did confiding with the Pope help in any capacity?"
The king simply shakes his head with a soft sigh. "Biscas' attempts to treat the wound with holy water, miracles, or good old fashioned prayers did not yield any fruit. It seems the only thing I can do for now, is to wait out the effect."
"I will try my best to conduct a more thorough analysis of the nature of the curse. It may not be my expertise, but perhaps a more objective analytical mind can succeed where blind devotion failed." The arcane researcher dwells inside Aldrecht begin to slowly rear his head. The king's retainer tries to push that side of his personality down by focusing his memory on all knowledge related to ancient curse in an effort to deduce a way to help out his old friend. But Aldrecht has to admit, the chance to study a strong curse straight out of the tale of the legend excites the side of him who wants to know every little secret hiding in the cosmos. "Are there any noticeable symptoms you noticed? Aside from what you already divulged."
"You already know I lost my access to the legendary wand." Aultcray picks up his wine glass to take another sip before answering. "Aside from that... my level stays the same, but my stats has taken a severe reduction. Even a couple of soldiers in their level 10s can easily restrain me. My mind also feel a touch sluggish at times... but it's probably more to the worry I have for my daughters than the curse itself. At least the curse does not affect my base stats, or it might affect my judgment at a crucial time."
Yet, it might already affected your judgment.
The battle mage looks down at the chess board once again. In an effort to engage Aldrecht in the front line, the king seems to be unaware of the slowly thinning defense to his back. "Yes, your daughters. Would you like to talk about it? I know the younger princess is still away at the conference with the Queen. Hope she's not getting into trouble? I understand the Queen wish to prepare her for the eventual succession, but taking the heir with her to meet other world leaders doesn't feel like a good idea. Not when the Great War was little over two decades in the past. Not to mention... she might catch the eyes of the Faubley king."
"I know! Mirellia should have given some more thought to it, and not present these Siltvelt animals with an easy opportunity to take the royal heir hostage! And don't even get me started on that old pig! I can't believe Mirellia wanted to marry Malty off to him!" The king edges forward from his seat, his face begin to turn an almost purple shade of red. He manages to catch himself and sits right back down after a light cough. "Our differences in opinions regarding the animals aside, I do not worry too much about Melty's well-being. Mirellia may be downright naive in certain manners, but she'll look after her chosen heir better than a lioness beastwoman looks after her cubs. Plus I have already sent out an escort to bring her back to the castle where she'll be safe. It's my older daughter I'm more worried about for now."
"Something that makes you want to kill the Shield Hero's entire family?" As Aldrecht looks up at the king's face, he notices the king's eye wandering away at the mention of his outburst. "I just woke up from my slumber, do feel free to fill me in on the details. You mentioned Malty didn't frame the Shield Hero as planned, wants to elaborate more on it?"
"Ah, I'm sorry I made you worry about me as soon as you are awake, old friend." The receding shade of red on the king's face is back with a vengeance now. He also turns his entire face away instead of just his sight. "You remember about my plan to keep the Shield Demon within our border where we can keep an ever watchful eye over the incestuous bastard, but also deny him any resources or opportunity to reach his full strength like the King of Rape did?"
"Something about putting the elder princess besides him and make an accusation to frame him for rape. I have my reservations about it... the pressure other counties will no doubt push on us for one, the concern for the well-being of a royal heir for the second." Aldrecht nods his head along while thinking back on what information the king confided with him, shortly before they went ahead with the summoning ritual tampered with Aultcray's blood sacrifice. "I take it did not went as planned, if the first princess is still with the Shield Hero when they were attacked in the slum."
The royal battle mage's opinion on the first princess is very reserved, even after spending over a decade instructing on the arcane knowledge.
On the one hand, she certainly puts on an eager attitude to study spell works diligently and behaving properly as a princess should.
On the other hand... the way she holds herself in front of her parents and Aldrecht is simply too sweet for someone who outright ignores the servant at best, screeching at them like a banshee at the slight provocation at worst. Especially comparing to the even temperament of the younger princess around everyone, servants both free or slave included.
"You know the saying about the plan and the contact with the enemies. In hindsight, I should have probably taken your warning about risking my daughter more seriously. But with how sensitive the issue at hand was... I could not trust any common adventurer I plucked off the street, or a lady in waiting other than my own daughter." The king nods his head once again in a grave manner.
Yet you find the first princess herself is trustworthy in this manner?
The mage has to resist his urge to shake his head in disappointment for Aultcray's horrible misjudgment. He hides it by running his free hand through his white beard while nodding his head along while the king rambles.
The predicament of the elder princess currently in is interesting to say the least. On the one hand, she is more than half a decade older than her younger sister and already considered an adult, which by all means should make her being the first in line for succeeding the throne of Mirellia, iron-clad.
On the flip hand, it's a rather open secret that the first princess lost the queen's favor back when the princess killed her own nanny and seriously wounded another maid when she was still a child. In fact, the sole reason why the second princess was conceived when Aultcray only wanted a single child was at the queen's insistence to have another heir.
Privately, Aldrecht feels that their queen was overly harsh on her first child. A servant of humble birth or not, murder is still a serious offense. But to a master mage like Aldrecht, it's clear the princess didn't try to kill her own nanny of all people. She was under a lots of stress... possibly even traumatized shortly after the death of her pet that day on the training yard, and she lost control of her newly awakened magic. It's just sad the affinity of the elder princess was fire, the most volatile element even for offensive magic standards.
If anything, the queen herself was more to blame for that incident. Not giving the princess time to recuperate after the loss of her pet, and have her kill a live and blood monster was tone deaf to say the least, and indeed, downright sadistic if he's allowed to be honest. Writing her child off as a lost cause rather than trying to nurture her when the poor girl most needs was simply bad form even to Aldrecht's rational mind.
Then again... it's not like he's going to voice his true opinion to either the queen or the king. The king's faithful retainer for two decades, and long-standing friendship that borders on brotherhood or not, messing with the succession of the royal house is one of the quickest ways to have himself end up on the gallows.
That being said... securing the hand of a hero is one of the most surefire ways for the first princess to assume the throne after her mother, assuming the younger princess doesn't have enough time to return home and secure another hero's full support. It's very possible the princess chooses the Shield Hero as the one to stake her claim behind... for one reason or another.
"...I did not expect the demon of the shield to unlock a brainwashing ability after a single day. Even the King of Rape only gained that ability near the end of the Waves. If he managed to enchant my daughter after one day, it must mean the demon of our current cycle must be much stronger than the last one. We must find a way to rescue Malty as soon as possible! Who knows what unspeakable thing the Shield Demon is doing to her even as we speak!" The king all but slams one of Aldrecht's pawns off the board with gritted teeth. He takes a deep breath for a moment before bending over to pick up the piece from the floor. Aultcray appears to gain his sense of calm back as he places it on the side of the board with an almost sheepish smile. "But we also have to tread lightly. The demon has Malty as a hostage now."
It's apparent that the excuse from the First Princess didn't convince the king either, although for an entirely different reason.
Aldrecht squints his eyes tightly shut. He follows the example of Aultcray to a deep breath. It appears that his king is in the middle of a strong overprotective father syndrome attack. He'll have to be Aultcray's voice of reason in that case, the royal mage, just hope the king is willing to be receptive. "I agree we should be more careful, especially after your attempt to frame the Shield Hero no doubt failed in the most spectacular display."
The king at least has the decency to look away while scratching his grey beard.
"I don't know the whole thing since I was neither present, nor heard a first hand recount of the event from anyone yet. But the Shield Hero no doubt realizes something is wrong by now, assuming he's not a complete fool." The king's eye cast downwards while the mage simply pushes another one of his pawn forward without fanfare. "Aultcray, if I may still call you by your name, I'm speaking this not as your Royal Battle Mage, but as your closest friend for over thirty summers. Have you considered any alternate possibilities than your daughter under mind altering vile magic?"
"What do you mean by that, Aldrecht? What can make my daughter turn on my at such a crucial moment?" The king's face jerks upwards at the mage's question, his eyes a muddy shade of addle than piercing.
"The second princess is still at the age where she blindly follows behind her parents and think they can do no wrong, but the first princess is an adult with her own ambitions now, Aultcray. Is it possible her goal simply does not align with yours?" Aldrecht looks up from the board to his old friend once again. The king wordlessly picks up his queen piece but he doesn't capture any of Aldrecht's piece with it. He simply turns it round and around in his callus filled rough hand with the tenderness of a lady in waiting.
The Mage knows enough about Aultcray to realize he isn't thinking of the namesake of the chess piece in his hand.
"They never change, Aldrecht. No matter how old they grow, a daughter will always wear her little pigtail running in the yard and scrape her knees when she falls down in her father's eyes." The voice of his old friend grows distant, his eyes filled with a nostalgic twinkle. Aultcray is likely seeing the image of an unassuming mud hut in an unremarkable farming village like a painting in his eyes. "You will know it, if you have daughter of your own."
What a lethally poisoned arrow he dodged in that case, if having a daughter can turn a master strategist and a shrewd ruler into a bumbling buffoon!
That's not even counting what the mage himself even knows about fatherhood: A vile and petty little man who is so jealous of his own progeny's achievement over himself, he's willing to orchestrate the death of his own son.
Yes, Aldrecht may be a more than competent mage in Aultcray's court, but he will no doubt be a terrible father. He borderline spits out every syllable of his next sentence. "Are we talking about Malty now, or are we talking about Henrietta?"
The queen piece falls out of the king's hand, the head breaks off as it hit the floor.
Stupid, Idiotic, Imbecilic...
Aldrecht berates himself with every word in his vast vocabulary that means slow of wits. He's been so careful this whole time to tip toe his way around Aultcray in the hope of not damage the king's no doubt fragile at the moment psyche. Yet, all it took for the mountain of effort to collapse down was the thought of that worthless petty little man who sired him.
It's truly a pathetic display of himself, Aldrecht just wish he didn't tear open the wound that's been slowly eating away Aultcray for over two decades in the most bloody way possible. "Forgive me, Your Grace. I was out of line."
"Perhaps... but it's still the words I need to hear. It's not fair to Malty or Melty if I keep comparing them to Henrietta. They are such special girls, each in their own right..." The king's shoulders slump, he stays quiet for a moment before bending down once again to pick up the piece on the floor. Aultcray's back tenses up, his face scrunch up with pain as his hand touches the now headless queen piece. "I'm sorry."
"We are both to blame." Aldrecht looks down at his broken chess piece, his mind wanders to that day more than two decades ago when a much younger Aultcray cradles the slowly cooling body of his little girl in his arms while they hide in a bush from the marching Siltvelt army.
Saved from death by his brother in arms when his own father conspired against his own life. Can't do the same favor for his brother in arms. Useless, useless, useless, useless, useless...
Aultcray seems to be wrapped in his own mind, completely oblivious to the mental self-flagellation of his friend sitting across from him. The king looks outside the window while his hand set the broken queen piece back on the board. "It's going to rain."
Aldrecht breaks free from the torture room that is his own mind. He looks out the window following his king's example. The afternoon sun shines down the capital of glorious Melromarc with nary a cloud in the sky, casting everything in a warm gentle glow. He nods his head along. "It always comes."
"It should be soothing... before it starts pouring down." Aultcray seems to slowly return to his senses. He takes the now broken queen and captures another Aldrecht's piece. "I can't fail. I won't fail Malty or Melty. The demon of the shield will answer for his crime."
Aldrecht sighs in his mind once again. Looks like the king's stubbornness is making him only seeing the threat in the front, completely ignoring the threat behind him. It almost makes the mage feel guilty trying to take advantage of him in Aultcray's current mental stage. Not allowing himself to hesitate, the mage picks up the rock he's been saving all this time and slams it straight down to Aultcray's backline. "Please, tell me you at least has a contingency plan."
That's apparently not the case, as the king seems to suddenly realize the thin defense of his backline as he fumbles around the situation while they exchanges a few more moves.
Aldrecht briefly wonders if the lapse in judgment from his old friend is due to the curse affecting his mind more than he realized, or perhaps the feeling of guilt Aultcray carries over his shoulder is finally crushing him over. It almost makes the mage feel bad taking this match... well, almost. "If you have no more trick up your sleeves, Your Grace, I believe this is checkmate?"
"Congratulations in taking this match, old friend. You played a truly great game and bested me fair and square." The king graciously bends his neck, not enough to be a bow but definitely deeper than a nod.
Aldrecht mimics the movement of his old friend. An almost impish smile adorns his aged face. "Not really, Your Grace. Your mind is obviously somewhere else with so many things going on. I on the other hand was concentrate solely on this frivolous chess match. Honestly, I would have preferred to finally win a match against you when you are playing at your best, but I'll take any victory I can snatch away from the 'Magician of The Battlefield'."
"Magician of The Battlefield, hmm... how long since I heard that title? Most people only remember me as the Wise Sage King now." Aultcray sits back with a nostalgic smile on his face. He throws his head back and lets out a hearty laughter. "That, or 'the old bastard who doesn't die'!"
"The two of us probably share that title together, Your Grace." A smile begins to creep up on Adrecht's face. "The heroes of old know that those Siltvelt savages tried to kill us enough times back in the war."
"Yeah, the two of us. That old dog Anderson, and Biscas of course." The king shakes his head with a derisive sneer on his face. "When you asked me if I have a contingency plan... I admit I don't have much in store for the Shield Demon. He's either extremely resourceful, or has the favor of whatever evil god send him to our world. But Biscas - he's my contingency plan in case I fail."
What will your contingency plan be, if Balmus turns out to be a wolf in sheep's clothing?
The king does not seem to notice the battle mage's concern as he continues his rambling. "Even as we speak, the faithful of the Church is scouring the land to dig up any fragment of the old Legendary Weapons. We may not have the anti-hero weapons those Siltvelt barbarians taken from Q'ten Lo, but weapons forged with the fragments of legendary weapons are equality powerful. Biscas is planning to revive the old order of the Knights Templar, as our own anti Shield Demon unit."
Aldrecht jerks his head up to stare intensely into the eyes of the king. "Plundering the land for legendary fragments, you say?"
"Well, they obviously aren't going to raid the family crypt of the noble houses descended from the heroes. Biscas isn't dumb enough to cut his own throat by desecrating the resting place of old heroes. That's the down side of being the spiritual leader of the country. You need people to have faith in you first." The king chuckles at the serious face Aldrecht is showing while scratching his beard. "It's mostly famous old battle sites. And unlike those sacred anti-hero weapons, they work great against everyone. It'll greatly boost our country's military force if it does ultimately come down to other countries invading Melromarc."
The Knight Templar would also serve their role if the Pope's ultimate goal is to usurp this country.
The mage simply nods his head along while picturing all kind of possibilities. Try as he might, Aldrecht can't see a way out for his old friend if Balmus does decide to betray them. To put all their faith in uncompromising good will of the Pope is not a good idea.
He'll have to be Aultcray's contingency plan, the great equalizer hiding up the king's sleeve in this case. Luckily, he knows something that'll give him just the power he needs. "What do you plan to do with the Seatto heiress?"
"Éclair? Honestly... I'm of half a mind to simply keep her locked in the dungeon. The House Seatto has faithfully defended this country before we came here from Faubley. It would be a great shame if their line ends here. Not to mention she's innocent of everything, except for being too noble." The king closes his eyes while continue to run his finger through his beard. "She's the same age as Malty, isn't she?"
"This is not how the game works, Aultcray. What do you think would happen when the queen comes back and learns you imprisoned the last heiress of House Seatto after her father died defending the realm? And need I remind you, the queen had wanted to make him the regent instead of you before her departure." The mage sits up from his chair and leans forward. "It's best we wrap everything neatly up, no loose end. If you don't want to do the deed because of your daughter, I can take over for you."
The king stays silent and still as a statue for a good minute. He opens his eyes to look deeply at Aldrecht. "And how would you perform the deed? I would like to keep it clean... and as painless as possible for …"
"Giving her one last drink of her life, of course." The mage stands up from his chair and walks over to his liquor cabinet. He opens it up, clears the bottles to the side and moves down a panel to reveal a hidden compartment. The mage reaches inside for an unassuming looking brown bottle and set it on the table where they played their game of chess. "I haven't sampled it myself for obvious reason, but the potion inside should work as if she fallen into the deepest slumber with no pain and no blood. There will be whispers, of course. But with the last heir of the Seatto line gone for good and them being unpopular among the nobility... no one will raise a question or even speak up for the heiress who conspired against the crown, and later took her own life in the dungeon. Queen Mirellia won't be able to do a thing about it when she comes back."
"Very well. You'll have to forgive me for not going and witness the grave deed myself. I don't think I can look her in the eye while we send her away." The king closes and rest his head on the back of his chair. He stays like that for a few minutes more before taking the gem encrusted golden wand off his waist. "Take my cane of authority, this will serve to give you the right to act as you see fit underneath the castle. The guards and torturers will know to look the other way."
The mage takes over the cane with both hands. He twist it around in his hand for a moment before fastening it around his own waist. Aldrecht places the poisoned wine securely into his robe and nods to his king. "Thank you very much, Your Grace. I will not fail your trust."
All to better protect you, even if I have to protect you from yourself, old friend.
The only sound within the dungeon is Aldrecht's heel clicking on the hard stone bricks, and the occasion chime of dripping water. The atmosphere feels gloomier as he descend further in levels, even if the magically lit torches burn the same.
This is no longer true once Aldrecht descended into the fifth and final level of the dungeon beneath Castle Melromarc. The colors around him is muted, and the air much thinner and harder to breath. It may be caused by walking a long tread of both the dimly lit dungeon and long set of stairs, but it's also thank to the purple colored magical torches.
This is the level that's affectionately named the 'Elegant Room' by the prison guards, and it's the most high security level housing the country's most notorious criminals. Even the prison guards and torturers rarely grace the Elegant Room, and the dungeon and its inhabitants is maintained by demi-human slaves under most strict rules and harshest punishment.
The mage pays no mind to the occasional howling or raving inside each highly secured rooms. He walks slowly to the end of Elegant Room and opens it up to grace its inhabitant.
Even with her dress uniform tattered and filthy, Éclair Seatto still wears them properly, like a well-groomed knight who takes pride over their appearance. She slowly turns her head to look at the man standing in front of the door way. The Seatto heir blinks a couple of times, almost as if she's having trouble recognizing the face of the man who is here to deliver her final judgment. "Master Aldrecht."
"Heiress Seatto, I come bear grave news for you. Your father, the Lord of Most Noble House of Seatto, has fallen in battle." The wizard can't help but find some morbid irony in the situation. Aldrecht declined the reward of founding a noble house of his own after the Great War and instead chose to serve as the king's personal retainer for life. That means the prisoner in front of him technically holds a higher social standing than he himself. "Guess I should call you Lady Seatto now."
"How... long?" The heiress who has been sitting straight on her pile of straw slowly slumps back. Her voice sounds hoarse either from disuse or thirst.
"A little less than a month. The Silver Bulwark of Melromarc fell in the First Wave. He died with honor in the end, defending the land and people to his last breath." The mage can see a few spark of light return to the knight's eyes at the mention of this. "I can excuse myself and come back later, if you need a moment to mourn for his passing."
"That won't be needed, Master Aldrecht. I... I figured Father was gone. They would not have charged me for 'conspiracy against the crown' and throw me here in the Elegant Room if Father was still around. All I did was defend a few demi-humans." Heiress... no, Lady Seatto, slowly stands up from her hay 'bed'. She slams a fist to her left chest and bows her head. "I thank you for bringing me the news. It's good to have closure before... my turn."
The former knight commander rises her head to inspect Aldrecht up and down, her face neutral with acceptance. "I suppose my time comes if you are here. What will it be? Gallows, guillotine, or old fashioned axe?"
The royal mage takes the bottle of wine out of his robe and hold it to Éclair. Her serene face slowly breaks apart as her mouth slowly split up into a twisted smile. "Father once told me in Siltvelt, poisoned wine is a form of dignified execution for the clan heads. It to keep their body undamaged. Should I feel pride for the king going to such lengths for me, or should I feel affronted as he compares me to a Siltvelt clan head?"
The former knight commander shakes her head and pushes the wine back with one head. "Take the wine back and give me a rope so I can tie a noose for myself, Master Aldrecht. I may be charged with treason, but I lived as a loyal knight of Melromarc. If I am to be put to death for following our code of honor, I will die as a knight of Melromarc too."
"Please seize your melodrama, Lady Seatto. Neither the bloodline of noble house Seatto, nor your own story will end here in Elegant Room." The royal mage simply points his finger at the thin pile of hay when confronted with a puzzled expression from Éclair. "Sit down, make yourself... as comfortable as you can. What I just told you is an extremely simplified version of the event. There's more going on behind Lord Seatto's passing."
Éclair looks unsure for a brief moment. She relented her stance and sits down after a few moment of staring contest with Aldrecht. "Very well, Master Aldrecht. I don't know how that'll relate to my method of execution, but I will first listen to you."
The mage crosses his legs into a meditative position and sits down in front of the young knight. He does not mind what the cold stone brick no doubt doing to his old bones... at least for now. A small price to pay, if he can give the impression of speaking to Éclair as an equal rather than talking down to her. "It's debatable if the first Wave by itself could have killed your father. He was a veteran who lived through some of the worst bloodbaths of the Great War, but he did stretch his forces too thin when he tried to protect both his seat of power and the demi-human port town of Harp. But what truly killed him either directly or indirectly... was an insurgency consisting of the Three Heroes Church's faithful."
Éclair's breathing stops for a brief few seconds. "We never saw eye to eye with the Faith of Three. But resorting to murder the Lord Paramount of Ivory Pass? Has the world gone mad?"
"The Pope explained the deed was done by a heretical sect of the Three Heroes' Church, of course." Aldrecht simply scoff at the words he spits out of his mouth. "He either thought everyone in his majesty's court are idiots, or hope we are all idiots. Everyone knows Pope Balmus is the most radical believer of the Faith of the Three even if he puts on that compassionate holy man facade. Plus, what chance does a fringe group have against a level 86 Stalwart Defender, when those fetchers could not even harm the recently summoned Shield Hero? A hero grows levels quickly thank to their Legendary Weapon, yes, I doubt he'll be anywhere higher than level 20 by now."
"The Shield Hero you say, Master Aldrecht? Surely I heard you wrong, with his majesty's grudge against Siltvelt, there is no way he'll summon the Shield Hero... unless the conference Her Grace, Queen Mirellia attended has dictated Melromarc has the Shield Hero." The last daughter of House Seatto twist her brows together. "That can't be right. Surely Siltvelt or Shiltfreeden would choose the Shield Hero first as they worship the Faith of the Shield."
"You are very right on that, Lady Seatto. I'm afraid His Grace went behind the queen, and everyone else's back and summoned all four heroes." There is no sound in the knight's cell for a long while as they simply stare at each other.
"P-please, not that Lady Seatto business. Sir Éclair is fine... or maybe just Éclair. I think my knighthood has been revoked by now." The breath of the former knight commander is rapid and shallow as she speaks some nonsense. House Seatto's iron discipline that rivals even Faubley's House De La Vallière completely from Éclair's body as she swings left and right. She manages to finally upright herself after taking in several mouthful of deep breathes. "The world really has gone mad. The Church of Three murdering a Lord Paramount in his keep. The Wise Sage King breaking the sacred covenant and summoning all four heroes. What will come next, the awakening of the Guardian Beasts?"
"We all try to find order in our lives, Éclair." Aldrecht runs a hand through his white beard. He thinks back to a much simpler time in his youth when all he worries is about the Circle of Mages refusing to accept his unorthodox research methods. The old mage shakes his head away from these thoughts. "But alas, we live in a chaotic world by nature. All we can do is prepare to our fullest, and live our lives best in worst situations. That is where you come in, and why I said neither the line of Noble House Seatto, nor your story end here in this dingy prison cell."
"What can I do, Master Aldrecht? Our house may be Lord Paramount of the Ivory Pass in title, but even other lords of Ivory Pass hate us. Even if I were to escape this dungeon and try to gather the banners, all I'll achieve is to truly curve my name on a monument for Melromarc traitors." Lady Seatto glares down at the wine bottle sitting in front of her with disgust. "I won't be surprised if there's already a new Lord Paramount in Ivory Pass."
"No, I'm not asking you to rise an army and go to arms with His Grace. If you remember, I am first and foremost, his and only his retainer. My loyalty always lies with King Aultcray, not Melromarc." Éclair looks like she wants to interrupt Aldrecht for a second, but the royal mage rises his hand to silence the prisoner. "Worry not, honorable Éclair. I'm not trying to betray this nation or the queen either in this case. I am loyal to His Grace, but I'd like to think my loyalty is not blind. And that means I have to save His Grace even when I have to save him from himself."
"Pardon me, Master Aldrecht. I think... my mind is more than a little confused with, with everything, really." The knight commander sits right back to her rigid position once again, as if she's ready to be briefed for a mission. "You'll have to walk me through better with everything you are planning."
"I believe the primary culprit in this case is of course, the Three Heroes Church." Aldrecht slowly takes out a necklaces with a golden sword, spear, and bow pendant and toss it onto the brick floor. He narrows his eyes and glares down at the offending holy icon. "King Aultcray's hatred towards beasts and demi-humans runs deep from the Great War yes, but I believe the Pope is fanning his flame this whole time. Why, the king just told me how they are gathering every fragment of the Legendary Weapons that they can find from old famous battle sites."
"Fragments chipped away from a Legendary Weapon of a Cardinal Hero... those can be forged into the strongest weapon on this earth, don't they?" Éclair's breath becomes hard once again. "Are they trying to go to war with the world?"
"Their excuse is reforming the anti-Shield Demon order, the Knights Templar of the Three. But what's stopping them from launching a coup against the royal house, or as you said, go to world against the world? And I'm afraid the King's hatred towards the Shield Hero is blinding him of such danger hiding behind him." The old mage slowly picks the necklace of the Three up and puts it into his robe. "We need to be his contingency plan, and a great equalizer to stop the Pope from whatever he's no doubt planning. Either by threatening him to back off, or actually being able to take him down if he does go forward with his plan. For that, we'll need something equally if not more powerful than his fragmented but powerful elite knights."
"I do not understand what you need me for, I know next to nothing about magical artifacts ..." The breath of the poor knight caught in her throat once again. She stays completely silent before looking up sharply into Aldrecht's eyes. "You want me to help you recover the artifact that's been passed through my family for generations."
"Yes, the fabled 'Seatto Heirloom' that rumors to rival even the power of the true Legendary Weapon of a Cardinal Hero. A realize I'm asking you a lot after you just learned the news of your father's passing, but I'm afraid we are slowly running out of time. If you are willing to make the ultimate sacrifice that's greater than even death..." The old mage nods his head and pushes the wine forward with one hand. "Drink the wine. I told his grace this is a poison that'll make you fall into eternal slumber... and it's not an outright lie. It contains a potion that'll make you fall into deepest sleep, stop your breath and your heart, but preserves your body magically for a whole day till the magic runs out and you die for good."
The mage slowly takes off the king's ornamented wand and place it down beside the poisoned wine. "His Grace entrusted me with the entire process of your final judgment. I will specifically instruct the slave guard how to hand your body, and I'll recover you before the deadline to administer an antidote that'll bring you back to life. After that..."
Aldrecht reaches into his robe once again to retrieve the scroll he's been hiding there since his awakening. "This is a magical forgery of an Adventurer's Guild registration. You can use it to make yourself a fake adventurer identity to do things under everyone's notice. I suggest you cut your hair short, possibly dye it another color and wear a full face helmet and blend in as one of the adventurers seeking fame, fortune... and maybe even the hand of a hero to become a noble. Go pick the hero most trustworthy, and convince him to go on a quest to retrieve your family's heirloom. I doubt the Church will leave it alone, even if they have no idea where it's hidden for now."
The framed knight stares at the wine bottle through Aldrecht's entire speech. Éclair slowly releases the breath she's been holding after what feels like an eternity, to the point Aldrecht can even feel the slow creeping ache into his bones. "Dishonor, or die with my honor intact and leave the realm in utter shambles ... those are the two choices you have given me.
The noble heiress of Seatto looks up at the old mage with a smile. "Thank you, Master Aldrecht."
Éclair pops the stopper off the wine bottle and downs its contents in a single go. Her eyes close and she falls back on the hay.
End Note:
As mentioned above, the POV character (and the story arc) of this Interlude is borrowed directly from Pretty Lazy with their permission. This chapter itself even mirrors a chapter of his own story, but with my own twist to his original script. I wholeheartedly recommend everyone to also check the original story out, since I think it's really good to see how the story could have progressed if the four summoned heroes already know each other.
And of course, Éclair enters into my story much earlier than canon. Although it'll still take a while for her to actually appear in the main story, so apologies for all the Éclair fans out there. Beyond that, I'm not going to spoil anything about her involvement.
;)
To Avalon2077:
Thank you very much for your kind words! Canon Rising is a perfectly fine power fantasy kind of story compared to a lots of other Web Novels, but I always feel it could have been much more with the world setting. While I won't be going full genre subversive deconstruction like George RR Martin, I do want to flesh out both the world and the characters that inhabit it rather than it just being Naofumi saves the day, THE END.
To Guest:
First of all, thank you very much for your review. Sadly speaking, Naofumi won't be wearing his canon Barbarian Armor for this story. Barbarian Armor was perfectly fine for him in canon, since he's the broken dark anti-hero of the story. But I want to do a version where he leans more towards a traditional goody two shoe boy scout, which is why I have him wear a set of custom knight armor instead.
