Chapter 28: The Noble Hunter’s Shadow

Erich’s profound aversion to nobles had remained unyielding, even when he became utterly infatuated with Lucia in the original narrative. It was an ailment that hadn’t abated even under the spellbinding influence of the original heroine, making it utterly impossible for it to vanish in less than a mere fortnight.

And yet, despite all this, he had embraced Evening, shedding his own blood in her stead. The way he had pulled her into his arms, without a moment’s hesitation, as she stumbled towards the jagged ice, was undeniably genuine.

It was a clear testament to the inherent kindness at his core. While he might well botch affairs of state, he possessed a genuine warmth for those directly before him.

“I was so profoundly moved by your devoted sacrifice, my lord, that I’ve resolved to serve you for the rest of my life. You saved me, you guided me, and so my remaining days must be dedicated to you, Lord Erich.”

Knowing full well that Erich did not harbor any romantic feelings for her, her sense of profound gratitude only intensified.

There was a common saying that a person’s true character was revealed in how they treated those they neither liked nor had any particular interest in.

In a moment of genuine crisis, he had displayed the remarkable humanity to save a political adversary who was, by all accounts, ceaselessly plotting his downfall.

If not such a man, then whom else was truly worthy of service?

“You possess the potential to become a truly sagacious ruler.”

“Are you out of your mind?”

Upon hearing this rather vague compliment, which nonetheless seemed to be the highest praise, Erich visibly recoiled, as if he had just spotted a particularly repulsive insect.

How utterly perfect; even his humility was flawless.

‘If someone saves my life, even an enemy lord, it is my duty to serve them as a lifelong benefactor. And if that lord treats me with courtesy, I should rejoice at having found someone who recognizes my worth, and it is my rightful place to serve them as my sovereign.’

Evening adored romance fantasy novels. She was fond of pure romance comics and romantic dramas, and even enjoyed watching reality dating shows. Her heart truly thrilled to love stories where a mere touch of fingertips sent a delicious tingle through her body, filling her with sweet, affectionate feelings.

Yet, even more than these, she found herself drawn to tales of loyalty and honor, stories of men forged in eras where blood and steel reigned supreme.

The romantic, unwavering bonds between lords and retainers during the Spring and Autumn Period, the sagas of the Three Kingdoms, and the tumultuous Sixteen Kingdoms era, all sparkled vibrantly within Evening’s imagination.

‘My lord personally saved me; how could I ever betray him? Even if my lord were to disregard loyal counsel and rule the world with fire, it would still be my righteous duty to follow him!’ Such lines spontaneously formed in her mind.

At this point, Evening, an ardent admirer of Chinese historical dramas, found herself completely immersed in her self-assigned role.

There was a profound resonance in the idea of a loyal retainer, indebted to a tyrant, serving them with unwavering devotion.

‘I will serve him with all my might, ensuring he doesn’t become obsessed with Lucia and is regarded as a capable emperor. And should he fall, I shall descend into ruin alongside him.’

She was, after all, originally a commoner. As long as execution wasn’t on the table, she could endure almost anything else.

“From this moment forward, I shall cast aside my past and follow you, Lord Erich. Loyalty!”

Overwhelmed by her burgeoning emotions, Evening executed a sharply angled salute.

Yet, neither a respectful bow on one knee, nor a full prostration on the floor, nor even a sharply rendered salute struck Erich as polite greetings. Instead, they registered as nothing short of suspicious behavior.

“…Stop with this nonsense and go back to your duties.”

Finally, Erich, having completely lost his will to play along, exhaled a weary sigh and dismissed Evening.

At this point, he found Margrave Flam or even the Chancellor infinitely more tolerable. With them, he could freely express his sarcasm and openly display his displeasure.

But when it was his own fiancée, of all people, showering him with such boundless flattery, he truly had no idea how to react.

“Yes! Please take good care of yourself! See you this evening. I love you!”

Evening exited the room with a bright, refreshed expression, looking as if she might skip. To the very last moment, she conveyed her affection with a finger heart, a gesture that utterly baffled Erich.

It was an expression of affection akin to an idol performing fan service, or a devoted fan conveying their heart to their idol.

A fresh, yet passionate emotion, one that felt perfectly natural to shout out loud.

Too light, perhaps, to be considered a truly serious sentiment, these words of love, not unpleasant to hear, fluttered lightly upwards and settled gently within Erich’s heart.

****

“If their daughter was mad, they should have had the decency to say so.”

Left alone in the spacious room, Erich found himself muttering disparaging remarks about Evening.

In just two short weeks, he had already grown thoroughly weary of Evening.

“I thought they were merely fabricating excuses, but they actually sent a truly childish woman.”

He had dismissed their claims as mere pretexts to avoid the marriage alliance. Yet, the Margrave and his wife’s assertion—that their daughter’s state of mind was quite abnormal after her severe injury and subsequent recovery—now seemed to hold a disturbing truth.

“How utterly materialistic.”

Every morning and evening they met, Evening would incessantly chatter about the palace’s splendor, lavish praise on their meals, and feign an intense interest in Erich’s daily routine.

She poured forth endless compliments: how magnificent the spacious rooms were, how splendid the palace, and how utterly blissful she was to behold such beautiful scenery every single morning.

It was as though, provided her material desires were met, her marriage to Erich would become perfectly tolerable.

She was the embodiment of a materialist, plain and simple.

‘…’

After all, a well-bred noblewoman like Evening would never genuinely fall for him and treat him with such saccharine sweetness.

Erich placed little faith in the goodwill Evening displayed. Unless it was a calculated political maneuver, why would the Margrave’s daughter abandon her pride to show him such favor? If she truly harbored feelings for him, wouldn’t she instead feign aloofness, lest her true emotions be discovered?

Just as he attempted to convince himself of this, Evening’s playfully uttered words kept drifting back into his mind.

‘I love you.’

The image of Evening, winking one eye charmingly as she feigned cuteness before departing, shimmered before him.

‘I love you.’

This materialistic, almost fawning charm, clearly designed to curry favor, continually surfaced in the depths of his memory.

Who was the last person to utter those words to him?

Even if it was mere flattery, had anyone else ever spoken them to him?

‘I love you.’

After prolonged contemplation, sifting through his memories, only Evening’s voice seemed to echo. Erich rose from his seat with an irritated jerk.

****

“I was waiting, my lord.”

Adler, who had been waiting in the interrogation chamber, greeted Erich. Erich entered the room unarmed, his gaze sweeping across his surroundings.

Beneath Adler and the Royal Guard’s feet, heavily wounded prisoners lay trembling.

“We tried beating them a bit, but they don’t seem to know much.”

While there were no cuts from blades or signs of sophisticated torture, their skin was a mottled purple and blue from countless punches and kicks, and various parts of their bodies were uncomfortably swollen.

It was violence born of pure thoughtlessness. Erich struck the stomach of the knight, who was proudly speaking, with his forearm.

“Foolishness. If you couldn’t extract any information, why did you resort to beating them?”

“We assumed they’d talk if we hit them!”

“It’s not our fault they refused to speak!”

The knights, whose interrogation methods lacked both thought and finesse, kicked a prisoner’s arm and raised their voices defensively.

His Royal Guard, having never received proper knightly training, was crude and unrefined in every aspect.

While not notably more incompetent than the Royal Guard comprised of nobles, they were undeniably far less refined.

They presented a different, yet equally vexing, set of annoyances compared to his former noble-born guards.

The merchant, haphazardly beaten by the Royal Guard, bowed his head low.

“W-we know nothing, my lord. We are truly sorry.”

This, truly, was the authentic posture of someone groveling for their life. Compared to this woman’s abject plea, Evening’s earlier display had been almost excessively polite.

Erich mentally shook off the lingering image of Evening and gestured towards the Royal Guard.

“I will handle the rest. Adler, stay. The rest of you, withdraw.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Understood!”

Composed entirely of commoners, this Royal Guard displayed a much clearer chain of command and obedience than knights of noble birth.

Unable to attain any significant glory should they ever leave Erich’s service, they remained fiercely loyal to him.

This was a loyalty distinctly different from the kind held by honor-bound knights or duty-driven vassals.

It was a canine devotion to the master who provided sustenance, or perhaps the fierce solidarity shown by boys from difficult circumstances who banded together.

“See you later!”

“Alright.”

Consequently, their demeanor towards Erich, though casual and familiar, rarely involved defiance or hesitation. They exited the interrogation chamber without dissent, leaving only Adler and Erich.

Only four people remained in the interrogation chamber: Erich, Adler, and the two prisoners captured at the scene.

Erich sat in the chair Adler pulled out for him, crossing his legs.

“I haven’t heard a word. Are you subordinates of the Noble Hunters?”

“N-no, my lord. That’s impossible. I am merely an insignificant peddler who travels between various countries.”

“Your methods are typical of the Noble Hunters.”

The commoner group that attacked Duke Elpata had operated with meticulous planning.

They had prepared barrels filled with gunpowder and routed their goods through a merchant alliance, making themselves difficult to trace.

“Were you targeting Duke Elpata?”

Most conspicuously, they had employed gunpowder-filled barrels to nullify Greg’s magic.

The ‘Noble Hunters,’ who had begun making a name for themselves in Wittiern several years prior, were a decentralized organization of commoners determined to teach nobles a lesson.

Knowing they couldn’t confront nobles directly, they meticulously prepared before launching their attacks.

While they occasionally sought plunder, that was a secondary concern. Their primary goal was to utterly dismantle the prestige of the nobility, focusing entirely on rendering nobles completely powerless.

“Or perhaps Captain Mabel? There’s certainly animosity there, too.”

If confronted in a fair fight, magic masters like Greg or Captain Mabel could easily take on twenty or thirty opponents at once.

However, this recent attack had left the renowned warrior Captain Mabel severely injured, and the main street of the palace was disgracefully ruined by the explosion.

The imperial family and the nobility’s prestige had been severely shaken by the commoners’ assault and the resulting damage.

This method aligned perfectly with the tactics of the Noble Hunters, who were steadily gaining influence across the land.