The Traitor of the Past and the Persistent Prince

“I hope you do not attempt to join the subjugation based on mere emotion. Also, I would like to remind you that one of my knights does not have a particularly good relationship with you.”

For a moment, Azrael’s face looked like that of a stranger I did not know at all. Like an angel holding a sword—yes, his face, which usually seemed a bit distant from humanity, felt a little more human now.

While everyone else was reeling from Azrael’s sharp reaction, the Second Prince smiled instantly and replied.

“Then I only need to persuade that knight?”

“On the condition that you alone participate, and that if you cause any friction during the subjugation schedule, you will return home immediately.”

“That is easy enough.”

I did not know what he was thinking, but the Second Prince—Raphael—nodded with a confident smile.

Since Raphael agreed to those terms, the other nations had no choice but to give up on reclaiming their weapons. It made sense. Rather than risking the loss of another highly capable royal who was skilled enough to join a Demon King subjugation just to get a weapon back, it was wiser to play it safe.

As I was nodding to myself, I heard a small voice from beside me.

“I suppose even the remains of the younger brother he killed still weigh on his mind….”

It was Judas.

He seemed unaware that he had spoken aloud, and when others looked at him, he looked back as if wondering why they were staring.

Looking at Judas and Raphael, I had a bothersome premonition that a side quest, neither too big nor too small, was about to be added to the grand quest of the Demon King subjugation.

The meeting ended on an ambiguous note. Participating was not a total loss, but it felt like such a waste of time that I thought it might have been better to just hear the summary from the knights.

After seeing my “bored to death” expression following the meeting, the obnoxious Crown Prince’s face grew even more radiant. Was that beauty something he accumulated every time he pissed someone off? Looking at that face, I briefly wondered if I was the type of person who could actually kill an NPC. Seriously, he is infuriating.

“So, the Second Prince might end up traveling with us… which knight is the one on bad terms with him?”

I sat beside Azrael, who had returned from the meeting looking worn out, and asked. After the meeting, fatigue was clearly written all over his face, but he no longer looked like a complete stranger.

I wanted to hug him. I wanted to pat him on the back. A desire I couldn’t possibly act upon tickled the back of my throat. Surely, comforting a tired person falls within the boundaries of friendship, right?

Unaware of my internal struggle, Azrael gave a bitter, familiar smile and answered.

“It is Sir Judas. He originally came from that kingdom. Those with keen eyes can sometimes tell just by his appearance.”

“Ah….”

Was that so? I wasn’t entirely sure, but now that he mentioned it, it felt plausible. I thought his slightly different “art style” was just part of his character design.

“The accent of that region still lingers in his pronunciation.”

When you put it that way, a player wouldn’t really know. Since I was wearing “I don’t understand” plainly on my face, Azrael let out a laugh for the first time in a while.

“Since you are from another world, it is only natural that you would not notice the subtle differences between the people here.”

“That is true, but why are you laughing like that?”

“Because a person who does everything else so brilliantly and magically is making a face like he knows nothing at all.”

Azrael’s index finger poked my cheek. As I met his mischievous gaze and crumpled my face in response, Azrael slowly pulled his finger away.

I extended my own finger and pressed it firmly against Azrael’s cheek.

This time, it was Azrael’s turn to stare with wide eyes. I gave a small smirk and spoke.

“Prince, your cheek feels like a well-ripened loaf of white bread.”

“Look who’s talking.”

After giggling for a while, I quickly steered the conversation back to the original topic.

“What does Judas being from there have to do with his bad blood with that prince… what was his name, anyway?”

“The Second Prince’s name is Raphael. Hmm….”

Azrael hesitated a few times before asking me.

“Are you curious about Sir Judas’s story?”

At that moment, a quest window popped up.

[Event Quest (Side Story): Knight Judas] [Sir Judas, one of the five knights of your close friend Azrael, seems to have a significant past….] [Quest Failure Condition: Completion of ???’s plan] [Quest Success Reward: Azrael’s Survival] [※ If the quest is rejected or failed, you cannot retry this quest.] [Reject / Accept]

At this point, isn’t this basically a forced quest? I glared at the “Reject” button in the quest window.

Why do they act like there’s a choice when I can’t possibly press “Reject”?

Whether my dissatisfaction showed on my face or not, Azrael asked me again.

“Are you curious about his story?”

I ground my teeth at the game system and answered.

“Yes, tell me.”

Azrael answered slowly, as if he found it difficult to speak of such things.

“Sir Judas was originally the guard knight for Raphael’s younger brother by the same mother. However, after Sir Judas’s fief and family were all killed due to a strategy devised by Raphael, he crossed over to our kingdom, which was an enemy nation at the time. Because of that, he was branded with the derogatory title of ‘Traitor.'”

“Hmm.”

Judas… he was already called a traitor…. I felt a bit embarrassed for worrying, for meta-reasons, whether Judas might become a traitor in the future.

“Then, did he betray Raphael’s younger brother, too?”

I leaned my chin on my hand and looked up at Azrael. Azrael tilted his head as if it were an unexpected question.

“Since he crossed over after betraying his country, it wouldn’t be wrong to say he betrayed that person as well.”

“I see.”

“Even though that person died three years before Sir Judas ever came here.”

“……?”

No, I knew he was dead, but I didn’t realize he had died that long ago, so I was a bit taken-back.

Azrael continued in a lowered voice, as if retracing his memories.

“At first, everyone was wary of him. Sir Judas also found it difficult to get close to others due to his characteristic reticence.”

He eventually gave a bitter smile.

“That is also the reason why he became my knight.”

Looking at that expression, I felt confused. I really didn’t know how he had lived his life. From what I had researched, he was just a young, capable Knight Commander adored by the people. Even if he wasn’t a real person and it was all just settings, I never imagined there would be such tragedy within the story.

I thought Azrael was an ultra-genius, handsome, and kind man who, while perhaps not from the most harmonious family, was born into a relatively peaceful royal house, grew up meeting everyone’s expectations, and followed an elite path.

But now that I’ve peeled back the layers, his family is not only desperate to tear him down but is also sabotaging all his relationships. There isn’t a single person he can trust around him, even the sword in his hand is pushing him toward death, and he can’t even form his own team for the Demon King subjugation.

If I could ever meet the scenario writer who came up with these settings, I’d want to grab them by the collar and force them to change it.

A prince character of this type is attractive even if they are loved by everyone and their life is a smooth, solid road!

I contemplated what to say, but I just sighed deeply, pulled a raspberry tart from my inventory, and handed it to Azrael. I could think of a hundred words, but not a single one seemed useful.

Azrael’s eyes widened as he looked at the paper-wrapped pie suddenly thrust in front of him, and then he smiled.

I added shamelessly.

“A great chef communicates through a single dish rather than a hundred words.”

He paused before taking a bite, his eyes rounding.

“Does your world have a saying like that?”

“I just made it up.”

I answered with a giggle.

From that day on—precisely, only a few hours after the meeting—Raphael began to follow Judas around.

Honestly, even as an observer, I felt sorry for Judas.

“Sir Judas.”

“…….”

“Sir Judas.”

“…….”

“Sir—Ju—das—.”

Raphael followed him like a shadow, and Judas ignored him without a single word of response. After about two hours of this, both of them started to look like madmen to me.

He is really persistent, truly.

“Sir Judas, can’t you hear me? Did you go deaf while I wasn’t looking?”

“…….”

Judas looked at Raphael once with a face that said he wished he actually were deaf, then continued with his work.

Honestly, receiving such a look of contempt would usually make someone shrink away, but it seemed it took a special kind of mental fortitude to keep talking like that.

“Sir Judas, aren’t you going to say anything?”

When Judas continued to ignore his words, Raphael finally went so far as to sit right on top of whatever Judas was working on. At that point, most people would have said something out of anger, but Judas just ignored Raphael and walked toward another task.

Raphael didn’t seem surprised by Judas’s reaction; he hopped down from the work he had been sitting on and started following Judas again. By this point, it might have looked a little cute to some, but to me, it wasn’t cute at all. Seeing a grown man interfere with someone’s work like that at every turn made me wonder where his maturity had gone.

It was nearly four hours after the stalking began that Judas finally, unable to take it anymore, opened his mouth.

“Prince Raphael. It is useless to follow me like this.”