Clip-clop! Clip-clop!
It was already late at night, with the moon high in the sky.
After hastily finishing their dinner, the Bellingwaltz Mercenary Corps was urgently riding toward Volten.
Leading the charge at the very front was Sharen of Helmut.
Eager to reach their destination as soon as possible, she was pushing forward relentlessly, without considering the stamina of the others.
"We're almost there, right?"
As she glanced to the side, Bellington, the leader of Bellingwaltz, quickly urged his horse forward to ride alongside her.
"Yes, at this pace, we should arrive by tomorrow morning."
"Is that so? Good."
Sharen pulled out a cookie from her pocket and popped it into her mouth.
Crunch, crunch.
As she munched on the cookie, she gave Bellington a sidelong glance.
"I'm not giving you any."
'I don't even want it, you crazy woman!'
Bellington wanted to teach this insolent brat a lesson in discipline, but he forced a smile instead.
Just the fact that she was from Helmut meant he had to constantly tread carefully around her, which was frustrating.
But there was nothing he could do about it.
After all, it was Helmut.
That little brat happily munching on cookies could, if she so wished, wipe them all out in an instant.
'Just let the wind and Helmut pass by without interference.'
With that thought in mind, Bellington continued riding.
"Someone's coming. Looks like quite a few of them."
"Huh?"
Sharen's crimson eyes spotted a group of people approaching in the darkness.
'What does she mean she can see something?'
Bellington was momentarily taken aback.
At first, he thought she was just spouting nonsense, but when he squinted, he could faintly make out figures in the distance, causing his eyes to widen.
"Wow, you're right."
"What, did you think I was lying?"
Sharen smirked with a sense of superiority.
'If they're coming from that direction, does that mean they're leaving Volten?'
Judging by their direction, they were heading out of Volten, but who would be coming this way at this hour?
"…Huh?"
A surprised exclamation escaped Bellington's lips.
It was because the group approaching them was none other than his own mercenaries, who had been stationed in Volten.
There were over thirty of them, moving together in a large group.
Noticing Bellington, they waved their hands in greeting.
"Lady Sharen, those are my men. May I speak with them for a moment?"
"…We're in a hurry."
"I ask for your understanding."
Bellington didn't even know why he needed Sharen's permission, but he still asked anyway.
"Fine. But make it quick!"
Bellington immediately dismounted and rushed over to his men, making sure to keep some distance from Sharen so she wouldn't overhear their conversation.
"What's going on? We were supposed to meet in Volten. We had an agreement with Baron Volten—"
"Captain, Baron Volten is dead."
"What?!"
His voice rose instinctively.
Glancing back, he saw that Sharen was staring blankly at the moon, absentmindedly eating her cookie.
Feeling relieved, Bellington turned back to his men and asked again.
"What happened?"
"Baron Logan came to Volten."
"Logan… That guy from the banquet hall?"
Having once crossed swords with Isaac in an official match, Bellington immediately remembered him.
That man had somehow managed to dodge his unpredictable swordsmanship with sheer luck.
"Just before we left, he killed Baron Volten. Now, Volten is in complete chaos."
"So that bastard really pissed off the druggies, huh?"
"That's right."
"Sigh… That damn Logan keeps getting in our way. I'd tear him apart if I could."
If it weren't for him, they could have assassinated Princess Adeline at the banquet.
In more ways than one, Baron Logan was becoming a thorn in his side.
Bellington let out a deep sigh, contemplating the situation.
The Patrons had paid him a fortune, and he was working under them, but this was a dangerous business.
'Maybe it'd be best to just pull out now.'
After all, it didn't seem like they had been exposed yet, and if they ran now, they'd be hard to track down.
"Don't return to Volten. Instead, I should talk to the patrons again separately."
After making that decision, Bellington hesitated for a moment.
But what should he do about that troublemaker stubbornly standing behind him?
'I'll just give her a horse and send her away.'
It felt like a bit of a waste, but it was better than going back to Volten right now.
"Excuse me, my lady—"
"Crimson Flame Wave!"
BOOOOM!
A crimson aura erupted, surging toward Bellington and the mercenaries who had been walking alongside him.
The ambush was so sudden that they couldn't react at all, and the mercenaries were swallowed by the raging flames.
The terrified horses reared up, neighing loudly, adding to the chaos.
Bellington, who took a direct hit, clutched his burning body and collapsed, shouting.
"W-What is the meaning of this?!"
No matter how reckless Helmut was, she wasn't a lunatic. Why would she suddenly attack?
"Baron Logan was Isaac, right? The title was unfamiliar, so I didn't realize it was him at first."
"…What?"
Did she just hear that despite the distance?
Bellington looked at Sharen in shock. She stood there confidently, resting her massive sword on her shoulder.
"Helmuts have good ears."
Once again, a fiery wave of crimson flames erupted from Sharen's greatsword.
***
Back in the baron's chambers.
With a bright smile, Sharen finished explaining how she had managed to capture the Bellingwaltz mercenaries.
"And that's how it happened."
"..."
"..."
"You can praise me now!"
Sharen swayed her head side to side, humming. Her twin braids bounced as if urging them to hurry up and compliment her.
"…Well done."
Isaac wanted to pat her head, but his injured arm made it difficult. He could only say the words, but Sharen pouted slightly, as if disappointed.
"That was like a cow stepping backward and accidentally catching a mouse."
"I'm not a cow! I'm a Helmut!"
"It was a metaphor."
The grandmaster chuckled and ruffled Sharen's hair in Isaac's place.
"Hey!"
But Sharen swatted the Grand Master's hand away and shouted at Isaac again.
"This is saved for later! Praise me again next time!"
"..."
Was she really Liana's sister?
No, before that—
Sharen was born between Arandel and Galenia.
So, did that mean one of them had a personality like this?
Isaac felt a little confused but nodded for now.
"Anyway, it turned out well. Thanks to you, we captured the Bellingwaltz mercenaries. If we interrogate them, we should be able to track down the patrons soon."
"Let's go right away."
Isaac stood up abruptly.
The two others looked at him with concern, but he actually felt better when he was moving.
"Doing something helps put my mind at ease."
"Well, I won't stop you, then."
"Isaac! What about me? What should I do?"
"You—"
Interrogation could easily turn into torture.
Isaac didn't really want Sharen to witness that.
He gestured toward the bed.
"Get some rest. You must be tired."
"Okay!"
Sharen immediately dove into the bed.
She must have been exhausted because, by the time Isaac and the grandmaster stepped out, the sound of her steady breathing was already filling the room.
"For a Helmut, she sure is adorable."
"I suppose even her cuteness is on a Helmut level."
Isaac and the grandmaster chuckled as they made their way toward the dining hall, where the Bellingwaltz Mercenary Corps was being held.
"Come to think of it."
Right in front of the dining hall, before opening the door, the Grandmaster looked at Isaac and asked,
"What did you call me before? I mean, before you regressed."
"…I called you Grandmaster."
"Hmm? Grandmaster? I don't see why 'Grand' was added. Did my future self become more vain?"
"You had many disciples under you. Since you couldn't personally teach everyone, I sometimes instructed them on your behalf—"
There was no need to confess that she had been jealous of that.
"So, I suggested that you change your title to Grandmaster."
"Hmm, I had many disciples?"
The Grandmaster seemed surprised, wearing a somewhat ambiguous expression.
"We should share a drink sometime and talk about this. Is there anything I absolutely must know?"
"...."
"Go on, I won't get mad."
"You should find yourself a lover early."
"A lover? But my sword is my one true love, so there's no need—"
"When you got extremely drunk, you wept, asking why you had no lover."
"...."
"...."
A moment of silence.
In that fleeting instant, the two exchanged glances, speaking without words.
"…You're terrible at jokes, aren't you?"
"You also lamented that it was because you were too old. If we calculate back your age from that time, your current age would be—"
Clunk!
Without hesitation, the Grandmaster pushed open the door and strode in.
Then, with a swift kick to the chest of the bound leader of the Bellingwaltz mercenaries, she shouted,
"How dare you attempt to assassinate the princess?!"
Her voice was brimming with emotion.
***
The Grandmaster was a force to be reckoned with.
Unleashing the wrath of a lifelong spinster, she interrogated the mercenaries mercilessly, extracting a wealth of information.
For Isaac, who had injured his hand, writing it all down in a letter proved to be quite the challenge.
"Even with your injured hand, your handwriting remains unchanged."
As Isaac was writing, the Grandmaster sat on the nearby bed, drinking.
Sharen was still asleep.
"I'm doing my best. I would have finished much faster if I were in better condition."
This was, after all, a letter to the princess.
It would be rude to scrawl carelessly or have someone else write it for him.
Gulp, gulp.
The sound of drinking echoed beside him, and Isaac let out a sigh.
"That's your third bottle today."
"Hm? I'm just unusually thirsty for alcohol today. Don't mind me."
"Is this about what I mentioned earlier—"
"It is not."
The Grandmaster shot him a half-lidded glare.
Then, looking down at the bottle, she added,
"Accepting, out loud, that my fellow disciples are no longer alive turned out to be more complicated than I thought."
"…I understand."
Isaac, too, still hadn't let go of his feelings for Millie.
But despite everything, both of them were moving forward.
That much was certain.
Gulp, gulp.
After another drink, the Grandmaster glanced at Isaac and wiped her lips.
"By the way."
"Yes?"
Isaac responded, his focus still on the letter, his pen moving steadily.
Then, a crucial question came.
"Do you have any idea why you regressed?"
Thunk.
Isaac slowly set his pen down.
For the first time, he had someone to share this long-held burden with.
That alone was a relief.
"Could I have a drink too?"
Well, it was a relief, but…
He figured he'd need to be drunk to talk about it.