MI140: Black Flags as far as the Horizon (Patreon)

Though people like the King and Reida were becoming increasingly aware of how dangerous Paul and his Party were, they were among the few who knew the 'truth.' Most didn't even believe they were a Party of Saints, so, with the fearlessness of a young lamb entering into the den of a sleeping dragon, Vuldar forced open the door to Ei's room with a smile that made his intentions transparently clear.

Seeing his would-be quarry step back, the smile on Vuldar's face became even more sinister as he practically growled, "Don't blame me for what's about to happen, wench. Everything you're about to suffer is the result of your affiliation with that pretentious little brat..."

As Vuldar raised his hands like he was about to pounce on her, Ei's look of contempt morphed into one of unbridled disgust as she asked, "And what of the others? Are they also being beset by you and your filthy lot...?"

Sealing his fate, dark laughter emanated from Vuldar's throat as he said, "Oh, don't you worry about them. Once I'm through with you, I'll be sure to pay each of them a visit..."

"I see..."

"Huh...?"

Hearing Ei's voice suddenly emanating from behind him, Vuldar attempted to turn only to find his body both rigid and in immense pain. He had never experienced electrocution before, so he didn't fully understand what was happening as Ei muttered, "No evidence..." in a cold tone.

As Ei sliced downward with a vibrant purple sword that Vuldar had failed to see her draw, the pain in his body increased to an unfathomable level. It was only for a brief moment, but he felt as though every individual cell of his body was being sliced apart as an eye-shaped tear opened up to swallow him whole. When it faded, not even a hair remained of the once-proud Sword King.

Without even sparing a glance toward where Vuldar had been standing moments prior, Ei called out, "It's safe now." in a calm voice. Shortly after, Lilia emerged from a small storage closet, her eyes briefly searching the room as she asked, "Where did he go...?"

Shaking her head, Ei stated, "That's not important." before gesturing toward the unfinished meal she and Lilia had been enjoying. Paul had been worried about the two of them living alone, so instead of letting Lilia enroll as an ordinary student, she had been boarding with Ei as a live-in disciple. This was a beneficial arrangement for both parties as Lilia had a peerless Swordmaster to guide her while Ei had someone to prevent her from inadvertently burning down the Citadel.

Swallowing the knot that had formed in her throat, Lilia meekly replied, "I understand..." before making her way over to the half-eaten arrangement of food. She had always had more respect than fear towards Ei, but the knowledge that her interim Master could effectively erase someone from existence shook Lilia to the core...

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Unaware that her eldest son had just died, a slight frown marred Reida's expression despite the fact she had been smiling moments prior. Paul and Earl Aegir immediately noticed this, the latter seizing the initiation to ask, "Was there something foul mixed in with the food...?"

Shaking her head, Reida replied, "Nah, the food tastes fine. It's just...I feel like I've forgotten, or maybe lost something? I can't really explain it..."

No longer feeling hungry, Reida placed down the fork she had reluctantly picked up after observing Paul and Earl Aegir. Then, trusting her intuition, she stated, "I'm returning to the Citadel. Those brats wouldn't be able to understand even if I tried to teach them, so Paul can assist in the lessons without me."

Without waiting for a response, Reida rose to her feet, approached the nearest window, and promptly leaped out. They were on the third story, but someone who could casually leap more than 70m into the air didn't concern themselves with falling ten.

Rising after her, Paul followed Reida to the window but elected not to leap out. Instead, he observed her with a severe expression on his face as she blitzed across the kilometer-long parade field in seconds. Earl Aegir also rose to his feet, proposing, "Perhaps it's for the best if we end our brunch here. There is still more than an hour until the lecture you and the Water God were expected to attend, so you've more than enough time to follow after her if you'd like."

Though he was tempted to do exactly that, Paul eventually shook his head after mentally accounting for the location of his allies. Even if the King had died the previous night, it would take weeks before power and authority could be transferred to the First Prince. And that was assuming he was allowed to take the throne at all. Thus, unless Orsted himself had invaded the Citadel, the incident that triggered Reida's abnormal reaction shouldn't have anything to do with them. At the very least, they shouldn't be in any significant danger...

"It should be okay. There are many capable people within the Citadel. If a situation occurs that they and Reida can't settle, my presence would only complicate things..."

"Mmm...knowing your limits is a good thing. Trusting in your companions is also important..."

Not wanting to get into a lecture, Earl Aegir allowed his words to trail off as he pulled out an ornate silver pocket watch to compare its time against a mounted clock. After confirming the times were the same, he nodded in approval before pocketing the watch and saying, "I'll have someone show you to the amphitheater where you'll be rendering your assistance. There should be a class going on, so you can alleviate any doubts you may have by observing another instructor."

"Right."

Though his interest in the Citadel was increasing by the moment, Paul suppressed his curiosity as one of the most secretary-like women he had ever met escorted him to a large, open-air theater. There, a total of thirty-three students had gathered in the arena, several of which were dressed in fine clothes that were better suited to a ballroom than a battlefield.

Recognizing Jean among the three instructors, Paul resisted the urge to wave and interrupt the class as he found a place to sit in the stands. She noticed him around the same time as the other instructors, but instead of walking over or waving, she just offered a subtle nod before returning her attention to an ongoing spar.

Seeing the lackluster abilities of the students, Paul wasn't surprised. The oldest appeared to be around 12-13 years old, and it was clear they didn't care about swordsmanship. And why should they? Most of them wouldn't leave the Capital their entire lives, and, by this age, their respective paths had already been decided. Those that were lucky enough to be born First or Second Sons bore the responsibility of continuing their family's legacy. As for the rest, they would invariably become low to mid-ranking Knights or servants within the Houses of higher-ranking Nobles...

With half an hour passing like three, Paul began to reconsider his deal with Earl Aegir. Fortunately, just as boredom reached a peak, the lead instructor, a blonde-haired man with blue eyes who appeared to be in his twenties, gathered the students for a few parting words before dismissing them. Unfortunately, no sooner had the students started to disperse than both he and his colleague gravitated toward Jean, their proximity much closer than proper etiquette dictated.

Exhaling an exasperated sigh, Paul muttered, "Of course..." as he rose to his feet and approached the trio. He didn't know what they were saying, but the forced smile on Jean's face made it clear she wasn't amused by whatever they were proposing.

Noticing Paul's approach, the blonde-haired man, donned in stylish and extremely expensive-looking armor that consisted of a muscular, ebony-black cuirass, ornate golden greaves, matching gauntlets, and pauldrons turned to him and noted, "You're that fellow who was loitering about the lower rungs of the cavea. If you've no business here, you should excuse yourself. My associates and I aren't in the habit of entertaining vagrants."

Though Paul's clothing was reasonably high quality, it was far from the standards of Capital Nobles. He had also developed a habit of wearing his collar open, something no 'upstanding' Noble would even consider. Thus, at first glance, he gave off the appearance of a well-off mercenary rather than a bonafide, albeit former, Noble.

Resisting the urge to spartan kick the twenty-something in his chiseled jawline, Paul adopted a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes as he said, "One of your 'associates' happens to be a member of my Party and one of my most trusted allies. If I come to learn you and your friend have been harassing her, you're going to be receiving an introduction to the ground. And trust me, your relationship will be intimate."

Scoffing as if he had just heard the most ridiculous thing in the world, the blonde-haired man turned to Jean and asked, "This cur is the 'legendary' Paul Greyrat? Given your lady-like bearing and disposition, I expected a lot more than...whatever this is."

Visibly suppressing a sigh, Jean took it upon herself to gesture to the two men, explaining, "These two 'gentlemen' are Viscounts Alex Goldweaver and Marcus Blackbird, Sword Saints and Companion Knights of the 22nd Chivalric Order..."

Hearing Jean mention his pedigree and rank, an unabashedly proud smile developed across Alex's face. He was only twenty-two years old but had already attained the Rank of Companion in just two short years. With his talent, not even his status as the Fourth Son of House Goldweaver could prevent him from reaching the Rank of Knight Commander or even Grand Officer in the future.

Contrasting whatever expectations Alex may have had, Paul appeared wholly unimpressed as he remarked, "That explains the pomp. Just how long do you spend polishing that 'immaculate' armor of yours? Oh, let me guess, someone else shines it for you...?"

Understanding what Paul meant when he placed extra emphasis on the condition of his armor, a contemptuous expression formed across Alex's face as he remarked, "Not everyone feels the need to prove themselves by slaying mindless beasts and routing poorly equipped bandits. Nor do they need to resort to forbidden techniques to stay relevant in a society that has disowned them..."

Since the only people who had 'disowned' him were envious asshats and people wholly unaware of the situation, Paul couldn't help rolling his eyes in response to Alex's taunting. He genuinely didn't care what the man had to say; the only thing that mattered to him was whether or not he and his little shadow were harassing Jean.

Ignoring the contemptuous gaze Alex was giving him, Paul looked past him and asked, "Have these bunglenuts been badgering you...?"

Though she knew what would happen if she answered yes, a wry smile developed across Jean's face as she replied, "I have refused each time, but Viscount Goldweaver seems determined to have me attend dinner at his family's residence. As for-"

Before she could absolve Marcus of any overt misconduct, Alex stepped in between Jean and Paul; his blue eyes narrowed as he said, "What I do and who I invite to dinner are my business. As for Dame Jean...though she may be a member of your Party, you've no right to meddle in her personal life. No one here is forcing her, so take your petulant envy elsewhere."

As if it was supposed to scare him off, Alex placed his hand on the sword at his hip. He had heard the news regarding Paul's nomination as Reida's successor, but no true Sword God user feared a member of the Water God School. With the amount of effort he had made over the past sixteen and a half years, he was absolutely sure he could trounce a thirteen-year-old brat playing at being an adult. Paul may be the youngest Sword and Water Saint in history, but the methods he used to obtain said ranks were known to all. There was no way he could defeat a 'genuine' Sword Saint...

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