Chapter 15: The Dark Lord’s Tour

The Knights Templar, a group dedicated to daily training, certainly exuded a vibrant energy.

Even Grand Commander Jeffrey, a man well into his thirties and approaching forty, could still engage in lively, boisterous sparring with his vice-captain and Wade.

“Alright, Valen, alright, haha, that’s enough,” Jeffrey chuckled, waving his hand for the vice-captain to stop. “Just look at him, he’s so possessive.”

Jeffrey’s laughter boomed as he gestured for his vice-captain to cease. Their camaraderie was evident; such playful skirmishes seemed a regular occurrence among the three.

Though Wade wore a look of mild exasperation, a faint smile still graced his features.

“That’s so biased!” Valen exclaimed, nudging Wade. “The other knights all got some earlier, so why are we left out? Come on, spill it, Wade, have you been slandering us to your wife at home?”

Despite Valen being Wade’s junior by about five years and addressing him respectfully as ‘Brother Wade,’ their relationship transcended the stiff formality of superior and subordinate. Valen felt comfortable enough to playfully elbow Wade’s arm a couple of times, knowing his friend could take a joke.

“No… of course not,” Wade replied with an apologetic smile. “I never even imagined Lamia would come to the Knights Templar.”

Though his gaze was fixed on Valen, Wade’s true focus lay on Lamia. He strained to perceive her inner thoughts, desperate to unravel the true purpose behind her visit to the Knights Templar.

‘The wife of the Knights Templar’s assistant… that identity is far too convenient.’

‘With such a guise, she could readily visit the Knights Templar at any moment, using him as a pretext. Perhaps, with a few cunning maneuvers, she might even gain access to classified areas.’

[Finally, I’m inside… Hmph, it looks rather decent. These blueberry rolls I prepared are precisely the flavors these humans adore. Bestowing gifts is the initial step to garnering goodwill. I shall employ this simple bribery to acquaint myself with these knights.]

‘How utterly cunning! The Dark Lord even went so far as to prepare a bounty of pastries to win over their favor.’

‘Could she truly have swaggered into the Knights Templar so brazenly, all through such a method? What then? What would she do next?’

‘How would she execute her nefarious scheme? Would she seize the Knights Templar for herself? Or—’

[Hmph hmph~ Indeed~ I knew it! With this King personally making an appearance, how could I possibly fail to win them over!]

“…”

‘…What?’

‘What peculiar line of reasoning was this now?’

Wade abruptly found himself realizing that his every conjecture about her always seemed to be utterly mistaken.

He constantly anticipated some malevolent stratagem from Lamia, yet each time… the reality proved precisely the opposite.

‘Why did he always feel as though he were projecting his own base suspicions onto a genuinely noble person? He was unequivocally the righteous party here, wasn’t he?’

‘And… hah—who would possibly envy something like that?’

“Wade, you usually keep to yourself,” Jeffrey declared, clapping him heartily on the shoulder, “but you certainly caused quite a stir upon your arrival! You are truly fortunate to have married such an exceptional young woman.”

“…Ah… hmm?”

Jeffrey, his face alight with a hearty smile, continued to pat Wade’s shoulder like an elder brother, showering praise upon him for having such a good wife.

Wade, a staunch non-believer in marriage, found himself momentarily bewildered by the compliment. He simply couldn’t grasp the concept of ‘marrying a good wife,’ nor did he comprehend the fundamental purpose of matrimony itself.

This forced union had only heaped immense pressure upon him, leaving him utterly oblivious to what this so-called “luck” truly signified.

[Hmph hmph~ Indeed~ I knew it! With this King personally making an appearance, how could I possibly fail to win them over!]

Lamia, conversely, was absolutely delighted by the praise. She hummed a few self-satisfied notes in her mind, even going so far as to commend herself.

Her single visit to the Knights Templar had certainly provided her with an ample boost to her ego.

While he could grasp the satisfaction of being affirmed, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was… a little too peculiar.

“Alright, let’s not leave Miss Lamia standing around idly,” Jeffrey announced. “She’s made the effort to visit the Knights Templar. Wade, you’re responsible for showing her around. Valen and I will handle today’s duties. You’re newly married; go spend time with your wife.”

Jeffrey, a married man with children, possessed a remarkably open-hearted disposition.

Now in his middle years, having built a happy family, he particularly delighted in playing matchmaker for young people, relishing the sight of their blossoming romances and the vibrant energy of their youth.

“Ah—no, I can continue my wo—”

Upon hearing the suggestion of escorting the Dark Lord through the Knights Templar, Wade’s immediate instinct was to refuse.

‘Allow the Dark Lord to roam freely within the Knights Templar? What utter madness!’

‘If even a single secret were to leak, wouldn’t everything be utterly ruined?’

Yet, his subconscious protest was cut short as Wade abruptly caught himself, swallowing the remainder of his half-formed sentence.

‘No… that’s not right. This is precisely an opportunity.’

‘The Dark Lord’s presence here in the Knights Templar surely concealed ulterior motives. Her current thoughts were merely superficial; she couldn’t have arrived without a profound reason.’

‘If I were to escort her on a tour, the initiative would be entirely mine. I could meticulously control what she saw, ensuring no vital intelligence was compromised.’

‘Simultaneously, I could use these innocuous distractions to subtly entice her true intentions to the surface. This was a chance—one I absolutely had to seize.’

After a moment of deliberation, Wade halted his impulsive words. Jeffrey, misinterpreting his pause as polite hesitation, merely smiled, then pulled the curious Valen away, leading him back towards the main building of the Knights Templar.

“…”

Once the two had departed, Wade’s gaze returned to Lamia. Being a head shorter than him, her movements and expressions were easily discernible in his peripheral vision with just a slight sideways glance.

She was currently waving goodbye with a friendly, gentle smile gracing her features.

The now-empty basket, which had once held her pastries, hung gracefully from her arm, and he could still faintly detect the sweet scent of blueberries beneath its covering cloth.

Lamia’s attire today was rather charming, a stark contrast to the previous day’s encounter. Instead of a seductive gown, she wore a simple, long dress with minimal ornamentation. In this ensemble, she appeared quite respectable and proper.

Yet, the very thought of it still left Wade feeling a peculiar exasperation.

‘They had met just yesterday during the day, married by noon, and she had followed him home that very afternoon. By night, after a fierce argument, he had been unceremoniously kicked out of bed.’

‘This morning, he had hoped to finally ease back into some semblance of normalcy, only to encounter Lamia once more. And to his utter disbelief, she had managed to win over everyone with just a single cake…’

‘Hah… did she have any idea how long he had toiled here? And in the end, he was still just a mere clerk.’

Indeed, Wade’s official role as the Grand Commander’s assistant was essentially that of a mere clerk.

While his White Knight form commanded immense power, capable of battling the Dark Lord to a standstill, within the Knights Templar, his duties primarily involved processing administrative documents; frontline matters fell outside his jurisdiction.

Naturally, this was merely a public facade. Typically, he spent his days chasing down signatures for endless forms. When the bureaucratic grind became too stifling, he would don his White Knight armor and, for a change of pace, detonate a section of the Dark Lord’s castle wall.

Now, however, it seemed he wouldn’t need to resort to blowing up castle walls any longer.

Something far more significant than the Dark Lord’s formidable defenses had emerged.

After careful consideration, Wade steeled his resolve.

He recalled his grandfather’s counsel: rather than succumb to Lamia’s corruption, he should adapt to her every move. He would resist her influence while subtly encouraging her to lower her guard.

Then, when the opportune moment arrived, when she was utterly relaxed and vulnerable, he would deliver a swift, decisive blow.

Wade’s interpretation of “adapt to her every move” seemed considerably more violent than his grandfather’s original intent. Nevertheless, the initial step remained unchanged.

Taking a deep breath, Wade waited until he was certain that both the Grand Commander and Vice-Captain were far enough away not to see or hear him.

Then, he took the basket from Lamia’s arm, stepped closer, and gently but firmly took her small, soft, maiden-like hand into his own calloused palm.

Lamia was startled by Wade’s sudden movement. Her eyes widened as she looked up at him, only to be met by a smile she had never witnessed before—the smile of her sworn enemy, the White Knight.

“Well, since you’re already here,” he said, “how about I show you around?”

He smiled, drawing Lamia closer to his side. His expression was the same professionally cultivated, friendly smile he had employed for years when greeting citizens in need—a look widely regarded as “the most universally reassuring and amicable.”

“Come, wife,” he said, his voice laced with an unfamiliar warmth, “hold my hand tightly. We wouldn’t want to get separated.”

For the future of humanity, our superhero White Knight still sacrificed too much.