The Jealousy of a King

“If Andrealphus were a squire under my command, I would have worked you until your mental strength was steel.”

As I grimaced while looking at the knights’ wounds, Simon—who had become quite friendly with me—grumbled. Despite having been crushed by me before, his mouth was still as lively as ever. I simply shook my long healer’s staff at him, and Simon, who had tasted a beating from that very staff, promptly shut his mouth.

“By the way, they follow us so accurately. How do they track us so well? Is their intelligence network really that good?”

“Well, we will be at the capital soon.”

“That’s at least some good news.”

Having finished my healing, I changed my job to Summoner and hopped onto the Dullahan. It was a relief that this dreadfully long journey to the capital was coming to an end. The ride on the Dullahan was smooth, but it had been a trip so boring that even a good ride couldn’t cover for it.

The graphics, different from those in The Hunters, provided occasional eye candy, but that only lasted an hour or two. Practicing production skills that were under-leveled—specifically enhancement skills—was restricted while on horseback.

Logically, you can’t cook while riding a horse. You can’t sew, either. The only thing possible was reading production-related scrolls, but the experience points gained that way were honestly stingy.

“I’ll give you some advice. Before we enter the capital… it would be best to send that horse back. You should either ride with His Highness or buy a new horse.”

“In the capital, where the reality of war feels distant, there are countless people looking to tear His Highness down. It is best not to give them even the slightest pretext.”

What kind of country tries so hard to undermine a prince who is out winning glory in a war? I let an incredulous expression spread across my face.

“The Prince is out there risking his life on the battlefield, and they want to tear him down?”

“His Highness’s crystal is strictly protected in the capital, so many believe there is no risk of him dying permanently during the war.”

The knights mirrored my look of disbelief.

“They think so lightly of it because they haven’t experienced the war themselves…. At this rate, is it possible that some of the assassins we faced were sent by people from this very country?”

It was a sarcastic remark, but the only response I received was silence. Why are you acting like it’s real? Startled by the silence, I quickly turned my head to look at the knights. Every single one of them had their mouths shut tight, their faces masks of indignation. It was only after checking Azrael’s face that I realized my nonsense wasn’t nonsense at all.

“……Seriously?”

My stunned voice lingered in the air. Without a word, the knights pulled their reins and prepared to move.

“……Really? I’m from another world, so if you just let it slide like this, I’ll actually believe it. Someone say it isn’t true.”

The elderly knight let out a deep sigh before answering.

“No matter how many years the war has dragged on, those who live far from the front lines remain peaceful. Thus, they remain ignorant and act like fools.”

It was the lament of a knight who had endured this situation for years.

Whether I was shocked or not, or whether Azrael wore a bitter smile or not, the capital steadily drew closer. Once we were truly near, I moved over to ride on Azrael’s horse.

As we approached the capital, the time Azrael spent with his helmet off decreased. Even though I knew it was him, every time I saw that helmet, I had a lingering suspicion that he might actually be a Dullahan.

Just before crossing the city gates, I pulled the hood of my cloak over my head. It felt a bit… burdensome to be the only one with an exposed face among knights hiding behind visors.

As the pitch-black knights on black horses in black armor passed through the main thoroughfare, countless eyes turned toward us. It was only natural. It had been the same passing through other villages, but the capital was large enough to live up to its name, and the streets were crowded.

I expected us to ride all the way to the castle as we had been doing, but our group headed toward a movement magic circle. The gatekeepers managing the circle recognized the crest on Azrael’s helmet and, without a single word of conversation, funneled mana into the array.

We were transported inside the knights’ quarters. Before I could even process the confusion of the sudden move, I saw a banner featuring the same crest as Azrael’s helmet, decorated with crossed swords beneath it.

It was a scene I had viewed countless times in screenshots and videos.

“Andrealphus. I am sorry, but I must go and report the situation to His Majesty. The other knights will show you where you will stay within the order.”

Azrael spoke to me through his helmet. I nodded. He started to walk away but turned back to speak.

“If possible, I would prefer if you did not disclose any information to others.”

“Why?”

“This is my knight order, but not everyone here is on my side.”

I couldn’t see Azrael’s face, but I was certain he was wearing a bitter smile.

Just what kind of environment has my Prince been living in?

When I nodded without saying much, Azrael gave a light nod of acknowledgment and left.

“Does he have to rush off like that?”

Feeling uneasy about his armored state, I asked John, who had already taken off his helmet. John replied as if it were nothing unusual.

“The King doesn’t like the Commander very much.”

“Eh? What does that mean? If I had a son that brilliant, I’d carry him on my back so his feet never touched the ground.”

Simon chuckled upon hearing my words.

“I like that kind of flattery.”

“Is my flattery the problem right now?”

I rebuked Simon, but he just shrugged.

“It’s just petty jealousy.”

“Watch your words, Sir Simon,” Levi warned coldly. Even I thought Simon’s remark sounded dangerous.

“Should I cast a Silent Field?”

Instead of stopping Simon, I added more fuel to the fire. Levi looked at me with an incredulous expression, but I pretended not to notice. It couldn’t hurt to know more about Azrael.

Especially if it was something I wouldn’t likely hear from Azrael’s own mouth.

“Ah, I’d appreciate that. I’m a bit fond of my head staying on my neck.”

Simon raised a hand to shield the side of his face from Levi’s view. Levi looked at Simon as if he were even more absurd than before. At that point, I felt like his gaze alone could pierce through a person. Inwardly snickering, I created a Silent Field around us. It was a simple spell that ensured conversation within the field couldn’t be heard by anyone outside.

Once the translucent, shimmering membrane formed, Simon seemed to relax. He continued talking while stripping off the rest of his armor.

“Even the current King possessed the Commander’s sword before he ascended the throne.”

“Heh.”

Watching him shed his armor like a snake shedding skin without much thought, I asked with keen interest.

“Was he as strong as Azrael?”

“No.”

John shook his head. When I turned to look at him, he continued with a somewhat troubled face.

“That is the problem. The King had no talent for the sword.”

“Oh.”

An exclamation escaped me automatically.

“Is this… a story about a father being jealous of a son who is better than him?”

“Roughly speaking.”

“I told you the Holy Sword chooses its master. Right now, His Highness is the master of the sword,” John said softly. I tilted my head, not understanding why he was repeating something I already knew.

“The Holy Sword has never chosen a new master while its current master was still alive.”

“Wow.”

“It’s one of two things. Either the Holy Sword had a reason to seek a new master even though the previous one was still alive, or…….”

“Or the King lied about being the master of the Holy Sword in the first place?”

As Simon’s sentence trailed off, I finished it for him instead of the kingdom’s residents. Simon nodded as if that was exactly right.

“…The citizens mostly believe the latter. However, considering the current situation, the former is also a possibility,” Levi said stiffly. Simon made a face that said, ‘Ugh, what a bore,’ but quickly switched to a calm expression when Levi turned his head.

“Well… that is what His Majesty has been claiming for the past twenty years.”

“It will likely be recorded in history that way as well,” John added softly. I still didn’t quite get it and shrugged.

“Who’s going to believe him if he claims that and then hates Azrael?”

“It can’t be helped. Human emotions are what they are. He was respected as the master of the Holy Sword for most of his life, only for the whole world to suddenly mock him as a liar.”

“Azrael is innocent, though.”

He’s an adult now, so he might not care or might have grown used to it, but his younger self certainly wouldn’t have been okay.

“I am not saying His Majesty is right. However, His Majesty became King by surpassing his excellent brothers precisely because he was the master of the Holy Sword. When His Highness became the master of the sword, the factions supporting the Archdukes rose up, claiming that His Majesty’s right to the throne should be reconsidered.”

“Because of that, the relationship between His Highness and His Majesty became irreparable.”