I Returned with the Cheat Holy Sword

Early morning at Yoram.
Shrill voices echoed through the hallway.
The ones standing in front of his room were Vespa and Gray.

“What?! Carlyle disappeared again in the meantime?!”
“That’s what I’m saying. I’ve never seen anyone busier than the Hero.”
As Gray sighed in exasperation, Vespa pouted her lips in displeasure.

When he wasn’t in his room, she went around asking others, and it turned out he’d gotten summoned by the Dean and vanished somewhere again.
This man, the moment you take your eyes off him for even a second, he just whoosh, disappears somewhere—it’s basically become a routine now.
“I wanted to talk to him…”

Vespa fidgeted her fingers as she mumbled.
Hearing that, Gray narrowed her eyes.
“This early in the morning?”
“…”

“You had something to discuss with him. Just the two of you?”
“Th-that was about how best to assist the Young Lady…”
“That’s something you should discuss with me, not him, isn’t it?”

“…”
She had a point.
Still, Vespa did have a few things she wanted to talk about.

“—Well, didn’t you also come to Carlyle’s room first thing in the morning, Young Lady?”
“…That’s because I had instructions to give him.”
“Most people are still asleep at this hour, though.”

“…”
“Doesn’t seem like the kind of time you’d be giving out orders alone…”
It was a rare counterattack from Vespa—and an even rarer instance where Gray had no response.

Anyone ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) hearing this would find it suspicious.
More than that, it sounded a lot more plausible that she was just looking for an excuse to spend more time with him.
…That could apply to both Vespa and Gray.

“…”
“…”
An icy silence, like the two were walking across a frozen lake, followed.
But as always, it was Vespa who broke the tension first, noticing that Gray’s expression was visibly more displeased than usual.

“W-well, I’m sure nothing bad has happened, right?”
“…I doubt he’d run into anything dangerous. That bastard’s not ordinary.”
“Right?”

While they were exchanging those words, another presence entered their conversation.
“Comrade, are you—hmm?”
Panhyma, standing idly in front of Carlyle’s door, let out a heavy sigh and turned away.

“Judging from your faces, he’s not here.”
“…”
“…”

Even though they didn’t speak the same language, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that she too had come looking for Carlyle.
Hmm.
A man who gets three women knocking on his door at the crack of dawn…

Before they could even process that thought, yet another person showed up in front of Carlyle’s room.
Someone unfamiliar. Wearing an Orthodox Church rosary around his neck.
“Is this the room of student Carlyle Belfast?”

“…Yes, but who are you…?”
“Ah, I’m a clergyman from a nearby post under the Orthodox Church. I was asked to check on Carlyle Belfast’s whereabouts.”
“…And who asked you?”

“Heh. It’s someone in a position where I can’t exactly name them lightly.”
“…”
A high-ranking figure from the Orthodox Church with a keen interest in Carlyle’s movements, huh.
Wow. Who could possibly be that?

“…This bastard. Why the hell does he have four women knocking on his door before the sun’s even up?”
No, seriously—what kind of lunatic is he?
Gray, who was part of that group of four, ground her teeth as she muttered.

A thick vein throbbed ominously on her forehead…
But Vespa, standing beside her, was thinking of something else entirely.
“Don’t tell me… he added another new one in the meantime?”

“…Added what?”
“…”
“…”

She didn’t say it out loud—but they both knew exactly what was being left unsaid.
A strange sense of camaraderie formed between them.
“It’s not like that bastard is spraying pheromones everywhere. What could’ve possibly happened in that short time?”

“…Yes.”
“…Exactly.”
“…”

“…”
Something about that left a lingering sense of dread.
And so, both Vespa and Gray fell silent again.

***
If one were to summarize Leona’s explanation, it would go something like this:
“I-I’ve never really hated my sister, you know?”

“…Excuse me?”
“When she killed our father, I was so young I don’t remember anything.”
“Generally speaking, wouldn’t you hate someone for killing your father…?”

“Well, he was my father in name only—I don’t even remember his face, to be honest…”
“…”
“We dragons, compared to other races, are instinctively drawn to the strong. That’s why the whole idea of family works a bit differently for us.”

One new thing Carlyle learned:
Blood ties among dragons were incredibly loose.
“That’s why we’re also a lot more… free-spirited.”

“…Free-spirited in what way?”
“Uh… sexually?”
“…”

“Like, if a male is strong enough, he can spread his seed however he wants.”
“…”
“Oh, and the reverse is true too. There are female dragons with multiple husbands who just pick and ‘use’ whichever one they feel like—”

“…Yes. Got it.”
Even just hearing that much made it clear that judging them by human standards was pointless.
What an utterly terrifying race.

Anyway, the key conclusion here was this:
Leona didn’t harbor any particular feelings about the fact that Shiona had killed their father.
Shiona believed that act made Leona hate her—but Leona, upon hearing that, responded with baffling indifference.

“I don’t really hate my sister…”
Though, judging from what she said next, it wasn’t entirely emotionless.
“…I do have some complaints.”

“Complaints?”
“…Yeah.”
Leona’s lips moved slightly as she said that.

It was clear she had something she wanted to say, but couldn’t bring herself to.
“Miss Leona?”
“No, it’s nothing. Just a silly promise…”

“…?”
She never did tell him what that silly promise was.
‘…These two are gonna give me a damn headache.’

Of all the people Carlyle had met who could be linked to his quest interface, these two were by far the least cooperative.
He stared at the window now floating before his eyes.
[Quest Info]

■ Family Matters
Only two heirs remain of the ancient dragon bloodline ‘Libelle.’ But their relationship doesn’t seem very good.
The older sister avoids the younger. The younger fears the older.
What exactly happened in their past?
Repair their bond—and make both dragons yours!
“…Seriously?”
This quest text was getting out of hand.

“Make them yours”? What the hell does that even mean?
Sometimes the status window really didn’t know what should or shouldn’t be said.
Anyway, even if the quest had appeared—

[So what are you planning to do?]
“…Well, if I can help, I’d like to.”
It’s not like he didn’t know Shiona. They’d met face-to-face a few times. He did want to help if he could.

But the Hero clearly had a different take.
[You.]
“Yes?”

[Have you ever stopped to think about whether this is actually an urgent issue?]
“…”
[I know you’re a decent person, but let’s be clear. You’re already on the radar of some powerful people in the Imperial Palace. Is this really the time to be inserting yourself into someone else’s personal drama—especially when you don’t even know if it’ll help you?]

Hmm.
She wasn’t wrong.
Whether it was Shiona or Leona, Carlyle wasn’t particularly close to either of them yet.

Still—
“Hero.”
[What.]

“Are you upset that I’m getting closer to those two?”
[You son of a bitch. Why are you so damn good at figuring this stuff out?]
“…”

Huh.
That’s weird.
He was the one who correctly guessed her true, petty feelings—and he’s the one getting yelled at?

…Anyway.
“I mean, unless they’re willing to really open up, I don’t think I can help them.”
Carlyle scratched his head as he said that.

He had to admit—the Hero had a point. This wasn’t something that needed to be solved right now, and unless the parties involved wanted help, stepping into something so delicate wasn’t the smartest idea.
Unlike Vespa or Panhyma, whom he’d had ties with in previous timelines, Carlyle wasn’t that involved with these two.
Not yet, anyway.

That was what he thought—
Until that evening, when someone came looking for him at the Death March command headquarters.
“Excuse me, are you Sir Carlyle Belfast?”

“Yes, that’s me. What is this about?”
The messenger from command looked at Carlyle with an expression full of complicated emotions.
A look that was one part envy, and one part sympathy…

“…Are your companions Shiona Libelle and Leona Libelle? I heard both are dragons.”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“Would you mind telling us what your relationship with the two of them is?”

“…”
There was something very off about the intent behind that question. Carlyle could sense it immediately.
And perhaps that unease showed in his eyes, because the messenger quickly added an explanation.

“This is a question from the Black Lion Duke, the one in charge of this operation. I can assure you there’s absolutely no personal agenda behind it.”
“…May I ask how a question like that could possibly be free of personal interest?”
From that point, the conversation was filled with specialized jargon and military phrasing.

But to sum up what the messenger said:
“So basically…”
Carlyle repeated it in a hollow voice, like his soul had left his body.

“This entire operation depends on the power of love between me and the two dragon sisters?”
The messenger’s voice, as he replied, was similarly dead inside.
He too seemed fully aware of the absurdity of the topic.

“Yes. The close relationship between you three is of utmost importance.”
Despite that, his voice remained dead serious.
“…I’ve heard dragons often practice polygamy or polyandry. Couldn’t you just… you know, seduce both of them or something?”

“…”
“This is a serious matter, Sir Carlyle Belfast. Thousands of lives are at stake.”
“…”

“…Allow me to explain the reason why.”
What the hell is this nonsense.