Chapter 61
Enrique couldn't suppress his grin.
Ultos called out in a slack, carefree voice, "See ya!"
"Sure," Enrique replied, waving.
Without looking back at Ultos, Enrique left the room.
"—Well, look at that, young master. You're raring to go."
So he thought.
The series of incidents that had taken place in Lyon.
Society was still reeling from their aftermath, and people in the kingdom were still blaming conspiracies by other countries or shady organizations.
But no one would ever guess...
(That the young master had orchestrated the whole thing.)
That's right.
Ultos, whom people called a fool of a son, had been pulling all the strings.
And what's more...
'Come to think of it, young master, what were you doing while I was off having fun in the village?'
'Oh, with some guy named Baldo. Nothing much.'
'What?! ...You mean Baldo the Shadowless Blade?! He was alive...?!'
When Enrique later heard the details from the nonchalant Ultos, he was dumbfounded.
Baldo, the Shadowless Blade. He'd been fighting him?
And then...
'What?! Baldo licked his sword?!'
Apparently, Baldo had licked his sword.
—That was Baldo's routine.
The moment the Shadowless Blade showed his true mettle.
It was a sort of ritual Baldo performed only when he considered his opponent worthy of a serious fight.
Baldo at full strength.
Enrique knew his abilities well.
Baldo was a man who took every possible precaution to carry out his missions without fail.
The Shadowless Blade's reputation in the underworld was no empty boast. He was unquestionably a top-class fighter who had honed his unique Shadow magic. His cold-blooded nature meant he analyzed his enemies meticulously, and his combat style, which fused his unique magic with swordsmanship, was renowned for its overwhelming power.
What's more, Ultos had faced Baldo at night.
Night was the Shadowless Blade's time.
It was Baldo's own domain, where his Shadow magic reached its full potential. Baldo's world alone.
If Baldo had gone all out, blending into the darkness of night, even Enrique would have struggled.
—That was why he was called the Shadowless Blade.
A title like that was proof of what made someone strong.
Overwhelming skill that let no one else measure up. That was why Enrique, too, had been hailed as the Ogre.
And, of course, Baldo had as well.
As he walked through the mansion, Enrique recalled the time he'd fought Baldo.
"I've fought him myself, but... for the young master to take that thing down..."
That's right.
Enrique had indeed fought him before. Their battle had lasted three days and three nights, but honestly, Baldo wasn't someone he wanted to fight again. It was a pain, and he just didn't like the man.
And yet...
Ultos—that young master—had held off and defeated the very man Enrique himself would go out of his way to avoid.
And he hadn't done it for fame or money. He'd saved a girl without anyone knowing, and even ordered Enrique to help the village.
(Well, look at you, young master. That's pretty damn cool.)
It was the very image of a righteous hero. He couldn't help but think so.
Coming forward would probably have earned him a medal. Well, attacking the mayor was questionable, but he'd certainly saved the village and rescued the girl.
The way everyone looked at Ultos should have changed.
But Ultos hadn't done that.
Despite causing such a huge incident, he hadn't come forward. Instead, he was spending his days at the mansion as usual.
But Enrique was somewhat worried.
Every time he saw Ultos lazing around the mansion and drinking tea as usual after the incident, Enrique wondered:
Had he lost his drive?
People often let their guard down and lose their motivation right after things go well.
As a seasoned adventurer, Enrique had seen many teams and adventurers who'd been on a meteoric rise lose their edge the moment they relaxed.
That was why Enrique had confronted Ultos today.
"Young master, when's the next festival?"
And through his conversation with Ultos, Enrique had become certain.
"This is interesting..."
Ultos wasn't finished.
The mask within that young master was still intact. The "Noblesse Oblige"—the duty of the strong—within him hadn't been crushed.
That's right.
Enrique was certain.
—Ultos Randall had begun devising his next plan.
♦
To begin with, Enrique, the former S-rank adventurer known as the Ogre, wasn't an idiot.
Of course, Enrique's way was to crush his enemies with overwhelming violence, but his extensive combat experience also made him a perceptive man.
Enrique's keen instincts told him with certainty:
—Those words: "Wait for the right moment."
—That look of longing, as if he were gazing at something far off, yearning for something forever out of reach.
And the tea leaves from Gradiol.
"If we're talking tea from the Gradiol Empire, that's supposed to be the finest grade, right?"
He murmured.
Tea leaves from the Gradiol Empire.
They weren't familiar to adventurers, but they were high-end tea leaves favored by the Knights' Order.
They were said to calm the mind, and apparently the Order had a long-standing tradition of drinking them before important battles.
Enrique had heard about them from a former knight back when he was an adventurer.
The conclusion he drew from all this...
Was this:
"So the young master hasn't let his guard down at all, huh?"
With a grin,
he found himself smiling.
And more than anything...
Enrique had felt it.
That razor-sharp magic power he sensed when Ultos stood up.
Magic power that made his skin crawl.
Could a noble's son who'd done nothing but laze around for the past two weeks give off that much bloodlust?
—The answer was no.
No doubt about it.
Enrique's instincts told him so.
Had the young master lost his fangs?
That man's fangs hadn't changed one bit. His resolve hadn't wavered at all.
No, more than that...
"Looks like he's all set, huh?"
He left the mansion.
When he looked up, he could see the window of Ultos's room.
He knew it was a little melodramatic, but he bowed to the man he acknowledged.
"I'm not much good at it, but I'll go gather some information for you."
Enrique.
The legendary S-rank adventurer once known as the Ogre smiled.
"Saving the feast for later isn't so bad. Believe it or not, I'm the type who saves his favorite for last."
—With a feeling that an exciting festival was coming.