From a Broken Engagement to the Northern Grand Duke's Son-in-Law

A full day had passed since we first set foot in the Demonic Realm.

“Dammit…”

“We could really die here, couldn’t we?”

Behind me, the grumbling of the northern knights had begun. The North was supposed to be a harsh land that bred only the strongest of knights. It seemed that wasn’t true for all of them.

I do have to admit how hard it is, though.

The environment of the Demonic Realm was, to put it mildly, hostile.

The ground clung to our boots with every step, the air was a humid, sickening weight, and the pervasive demonic energy was a constant poison that interfered with everyone’s breathing.

Mihaila was continuously infusing the air with her divine power to drive back the toxin, but it was a temporary measure at best. Her divine power wasn’t infinite, after all. Using it every single moment was an impossible demand.

“I don’t know how much longer we can keep this up,” one of the knights muttered.

I had made it clear that we were here to rescue the Duke. To see them acting like this meant the Duke’s authority must have truly crumbled.

Do they think he’s already dead?

From a purely political standpoint, that might be the correct assumption. The responsibility for that choice, however, would be theirs and theirs alone to bear.

My eyes slid sideways to observe Lea. A warrior on the cusp of becoming a Grand Master, she couldn't possibly have missed their complaints. And just as I expected, her expression was gradually hardening.

She heard them.

Yet she said nothing, likely because she knew they had been dragged into this. As much as she cherished her father, she must have considered these men important as well.

She probably thinks that since they were forced to come, a little complaining is understandable. Either that or she believes punishing them over something so trivial would only shatter morale.

The North. The very identity of those she loved…

It was a frustratingly soft approach, but I still felt a deep affection for that part of her.

Guess I’ll have to step in.

I could let it go, but the rescue team’s atmosphere would turn to absolute dogshit. Someone needed to put a stop to this.

“All of you…”

But just as I was about to speak—

“Ah, for fuck’s sake, will you stop your goddamn whining? You useless pricks take your wages, then do nothing but complain. I ought to smash your fucking heads in.”

Lancelot spat the words at the knights, his face a mask of irritation.

“…What?”

“I said, you’re loud. You from the 3rd Battalion, eh? What do they do over there, only recruit spoiled brats? Why are you whimpering like little brats?”

“You bastard.”

The knight who had been complaining moments before twisted his face in a furious scowl.

He clearly felt insulted. From his expression alone, it looked as if he was about to charge forward and cut Lancelot’s throat.

Not that it mattered.

“What? Embarrassed I’m calling you out in front of your men? Then do your damn job better, you fuckwit.”

Lancelot continued to mock him without pause.

“No, I really don’t get it. You call yourselves knights, yet have no loyalty. It’s not like you have any great skills, either. You kill a few monsters and then run your mouths about being ‘battle-hardened.’ You think I can watch that farce and have anything good to say?”

“Did you not hear me tell you to shut up?!”

“Deed yoo nawt heea moi tells yoo shuddup?!” Lancelot mimicked in a childish sneer. “Pathetic. If you’ve got a problem, come at me. Stop flapping your gums.”

Lancelot’s eyes flashed with a menacing light as he gripped his spear.

The knight, not a complete fool, seemed to sense the killing intent rolling off Lancelot. Biting his lip, he took a step back. He must have been certain he would lose that fight.

Even more pathetic.

He preyed on the weak and cowered before the strong like a textbook coward. 

Lancelot must have felt the same. He let out a derisive snort and continued. “Wow… I didn’t think he was this much of a moron.”

“…”

“Yeah, whatever. Just shut your mouth and follow along. I don’t even have the energy to fight you. Tsk… How does a worm like that even become a knight? I don’t get it. He from some noble house?”

Muttering to himself, Lancelot started walking again.

Thanks to him, it was no exaggeration to say the rescue team was now walking on thin ice.

He’s not just breaking bones… he’s grinding them to dust.

I shook my head, watching Lancelot continue his stream of insults under his breath. 

Of course, by the continent’s standards, that knight wasn’t terrible. His mistake was running his mouth in front of Lancelot. For a mid-level Aura Expert to challenge him, the difference in power was a chasm too wide to cross.

I wonder if he could even beat Hans in a fight? Hah.

He’d probably lose. Hans had his own deep knowledge of poisons; one careless move, and that knight would find himself in the goddess’s embrace.

No skill, no guts. He’s useless.

I tore my gaze away from the still-trembling knight and shook my head.

In any case, news of that fool’s death would likely reach us soon enough. The Demonic Realm was far too harsh a place for someone like him to survive.

And it looks like Lea’s mood has improved a little. I’ll have to praise Lancelot later.

He would probably recoil in shock and ask if I’d eaten something strange, but that was hardly my problem.

In any case…

I think I see something up ahead. Monsters?

I focused my eyes on the path before us.

My vision gradually brightened. The hazy silhouettes sharpened, and soon, I could make out their identities.

It’s the Praha Guard.

The Duke’s personal guard. The finest knightly order in the North, which had been searching for the Duke, was now heading straight for us.

* * *

…Damn it all!

The knight humiliated by Lancelot—a man named Paul—gritted his teeth, his face a mask of fury. To be insulted like this by someone who only got strong by latching onto the right person… a fire raged in his gut.

That pretty-boy whore! How dare he insult me?!

A fool wrapped around Louis Berg’s coattails. That was how the knights referred to Lancelot. For that man to humiliate him in front of his own subordinates sent his fury soaring.

If I’d had that kind of support, I could have reached Master by now…!

It was all because of support. The reason a genius like him was still stuck at Aura Expert. The reason that piece of trash had reached Aura Master. It was all due to the difference in patronage.

Crrk!

He ground his teeth, the urge to murder swirling in his eyes.

Fine, he couldn’t beat the man now. A Master. Attacking a knight who had crossed that threshold was nothing short of suicide.

But the others are a different story.

Hans, was it? The sight of a mere coachman swaggering around as a member of the unit was absurd, no matter how one looked at it. It was enough to make him wonder if Louis Berg had lost his mind.

In a way, though, that was a blessing.

I have to kill him.

It was perfectly normal for deaths to occur in the Demonic Realm. Even if he didn’t kill the man directly, it would be simple enough to arrange a fatal “accident” during combat.

Consider it the price for bringing a mere coachman to a place like this.

Paul’s eyes glinted as he glared at Hans. He would exact his price for this humiliation. Whatever it took. He would have his revenge.

Having made his vow, Paul shook his head to clear it.

Just then…

“Halt.”

Louis Berg stopped the unit and stared straight ahead, as if there were something there.

…What is it? Can he even see anything?

Paul scowled and followed Louis’s gaze.

He saw nothing. Perhaps a faint shimmer, a few blurry shapes, but it was impossible to tell what they were.

Is he just making a fuss over nothing?

Paul cast a disdainful look at Louis. That man couldn’t have reached his position on pure skill, either. The Elder Council incident proved that. Politics and deception. 

Those were surely the foundations of his power. He was probably trying to create tension out of nothing right now.

If something appears, he’ll say, ‘Just as I expected!’ If nothing does, he’ll wrap it up by claiming he skillfully avoided it.

He had to admit, for a man from the Capital, his mind for scheming was exceptionally sharp.

Paul clicked his tongue inwardly and stopped walking.

It was then that figures began to appear before his own eyes. A powerful Aura and a crushing pressure, as if they were constantly projecting their presence.

Only then did Paul understand. He knew who they were.

The Grand Duke’s Guard…!

Unlike Lancelot or Louis Berg, these were geniuses who had clawed their way up from the bottom. They were the ones he truly respected, the ones he wanted to follow.

The Duke himself was a non-factor, given the likelihood of his death, but these men still held a degree of political power.

Yes, the Praha Guard is where I belong.

They were a group that no one but the Grand Duke could treat lightly, a group that even the acting head of the house had to show deference to. That was the Praha Guard.

“…The chain of command is about to change,” Paul muttered under his breath, a cruel smile touching his lips.

It seemed his revenge was close at hand.

* * *

Every single one of them is near Master-level, or a Master already?

I nodded in admiration, looking at the men known as the Swords of the North. Each one of them carried the air of true power. They were likely the strongest knightly order aside from my own unit.

“My lady?”

The Praha Guard, having approached us, spoke in a low voice upon seeing Lea. Their expressions made it clear they couldn’t understand why she was here.

“Can it be that you’ve come to find His Grace the Duke?”

“Yes, Sir Knight. Just as you are, I too am worried for my father,” Lea replied with a nod.

The man who appeared to be the commander of the guard hardened his expression and continued, “It is dangerous.”

“The Demonic Realm is inherently dangerous. That much is obvious.”

“My lady!”

“Address me correctly. I am not here as the treasured daughter of House Praha, but as a knight and a member of the Special Taskforce.”

“…The Special Taskforce?”

The commander’s gaze finally shifted to me. His expression was one of clear disapproval, as if to say he would never hand Lea over to someone like me.

…This is rather unpleasant.

I frowned, meeting the commander’s stare. The man, at least, had some sense of propriety, for he quickly erased his expression and bowed his head to me.

“…My apologies. My greeting is late. I am Halla, Commander of the Praha Guard.”

“Sir Halla. A pleasure to meet you. I am Louis Berg.”

“Yes, His Grace has told me much about you. A genius of the bow, he said.”

“He’s too kind in his praise.”

“His Grace is not one to speak falsehoods, so it must be true. You are here to find him as well, are you not?”

I gave a simple nod. “That’s right.”

“It seems His Grace’s eye for people was as sharp as ever. However…”

His eyes shifted to Lea.

“As this is a matter of grave importance to the family, I must wonder if bringing a direct heir was not a rash decision.”

…Hah.

How absurd. It was obvious what he was implying. He wanted to know why I had brought Lea to this dangerous place.

I could almost hear the unspoken accusation. “She should have been left safe in the northern castle. Why did you drag her into this wretched place?”

“It is not too late. First, we will escort the Lady back to the estate, and then we can resume the search—”

“You overstep your bounds,” I said, cutting the commander off.

“…Pardon?”

The commander stared at me with a blank expression.

I repeated myself, my voice cold. “I said, know your place.”

How dare he? A mere knight, lecturing me about Lea?

Is he looking to die?