* * *
No wonder I thought it was overkill to offer such a weapon for the event.
I had assumed this happened every year, but apparently, this was unprecedented.
Now I understood why the retainers had practically bared their teeth fighting over this.
This sword was worth it: rare minerals, crafted by a renowned blacksmith, a blade of exceptional quality—the first competition prize, a symbol of the winner’s honor.
Everyone wanted that glory to fall into the hands of the one they supported.
Now that it was officially declared mine, they must be seething with envy.
‘…?’
Even as I sank into thought, their sparkling eyes stayed glued to the sword.
I felt… not bad.
Maybe I could afford to be generous.
“You can hold it, if you want.”
“…!”
“R-really?!”
Their eyes widened so much their hair practically stood on end, but they didn’t hesitate.
I willingly placed Levatein into one of their hands.
The trainee knight, heart pounding so loudly I could practically hear it, cautiously lifted the sword.
“Ah—!”
The weight caught him off guard, and he stumbled a few times before finding his balance.
His face flushed with pure joy.
“M-me too!”
“Let me try!”
The other knights, who had been too nervous to approach, now eagerly rushed in.
Their excitement was so intense it felt like they believed simply holding the sword would make them stronger, or as if some holy blessing came with it.
While I was smiling, feeling like an older brother watching his younger siblings play, someone lightly tugged at the hem of my clothes.
“Is that alright with you?”
“It’s not like it’ll wear out just from them holding it for a moment. Besides, there’s no way they’d take it from me.”
Of course, this will be the only time it gets passed around so carelessly by others, but I don’t need a sword that wears down from a little touch.
If it’s that fragile, it’s useless in real combat.
Giving a knight a sword they can’t use is no different from saying, you’re no longer needed.
Besides, even if those guys in front of me all rushed in at once to snatch the sword, I was confident I could take them down barehanded.
The sword, which had been passed around like a toy, finally ended up in the hands of a rather delicate-looking knight.
He examined the blade with careful eyes, and for some reason, those eyes stirred an odd sense of discomfort in me.
Realizing I was staring at him strangely, the knight lifted his gaze.
“Ah, I’ve seen this before.”
“You have?”
His faint smile felt oddly familiar.
Tilting my head slightly, unable to recall exactly where I’d seen him, he opened his mouth with a look that said he understood everything.
“I couldn’t aim for victory since I only managed to hunt goblins, but I participated in the last hunting tournament.”
Faint memories of that scene resurfaced in my mind, but they were hazy, like fog clouding my thoughts.
I couldn’t recall every face.
Still, I could tell that unlike the other trainee knights around him, he was a proper knight—though his heart didn’t seem much different from a trainee’s.
‘No wonder he leaves such a soft impression.’
He tilted the sword—Levatein—back and forth several times, even tilting his head slightly as he did so.
“I heard Levatein is imbued with magic power…”
“Magic power?”
“Ah, ah… yes. You hadn’t heard?”
Embarrassed that I caught his murmuring, he shrank back and quickly returned the sword to me.
But that wasn’t the important part right now.
“Who told you that?”
“Ah…”
This was the first I’d heard of it—who’s been spreading that nonsense?
His eyes darted around nervously.
I could practically see the thoughts whirling and sinking in that little head of his.
Should I pressure him before he comes up with some convenient lie?
“Who told you that?”
I was still deciding how best to threaten him to get the truth when someone cut in beside me.
Klen, smiling, repeated my words exactly.
But the heavy voice that rolled off his tongue, mixed with that smiling face, was an unnerving combination.
I guess he wasn’t even trying to act polite anymore.
The knight, his face paling as if brushed by a cold wind, cautiously opened his mouth.
“I… I overheard the mage talking.”
“The mage?”
“Y-yes. Back when we were sent out to investigate magical traces, I was part of the group. They told us to report anything strange we saw.”
“……”
His next words made me frown instinctively.
Is that allowed?
Formations created with strong magic shouldn’t even be visible to normal eyes.
A mage wouldn’t be ignorant of that.
Satisfied with the answer, Klen grinned brightly, as if nothing had happened.
“Apologies, but my wife isn’t feeling well, so I’ll have to head back now.”
“What?! Oh… I-I see!”
“Pardon us!”
“Please, travel safely!”
The group hastily offered clumsy, knightly farewells, stepping back awkwardly.
But they hovered indecisively until Klen wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me close.
It was obvious at a glance.
They wanted to help.
The problem was, they couldn’t decide how—or whether—they even should.
“Let’s go.”
Cold as ever, Klen turned his back without acknowledging those sparkling, worried eyes.
‘Acting oblivious is convenient at times like this.’
Of course, I wasn’t actually struggling, so their help would’ve only gotten in the way.
Having a bunch of people clinging to me would be more of a nuisance.
Klen supported me again as if I couldn’t stand properly, and we walked slowly down the path.
Behind us, the sound of the knights’ hesitant footsteps followed for a while.
Once the sound of their running, pounding footsteps faded into the distance—
“Not today.”
My half-parted lips froze.
He’d cut me off before I could even say I wanted to meet the mage.
My mouth just opened and closed silently, biting at the air.
“Would it make sense for someone returning home sick to go visit a mage?”
“I… I know that.”
I wasn’t planning to rush over immediately.
But I thought it’d be fine to go later—maybe by the afternoon.
If I can’t do that, can’t he at least answer my questions?
I steadied my breathing and opened my mouth calmly.
“Did you investigate thoroughly?”
But my voice came out sharper than I intended, maybe because of my lingering doubts.
“I had another mage check for lingering formations. But…”
“But?”
“I’ll admit the head of the mage corps has a… lazy nature.”
So, the head mage didn’t inspect things personally?
No wonder nothing suspicious was found—especially if the enemy has considerable magical prowess.
‘Lazy nature, huh…’
Silently, I stared at Klen’s face.
Up close, even his profile looked like it was etched with precision—sharp features, annoyingly handsome.
His eyes, which had been fixed ahead, slowly turned toward me.
His amber gaze, slightly crumpled with frustration, stared back accusingly.
“Adrian. I don’t push my work onto others.”
“……”
I had to forcibly drag my lips down to suppress a smile.
What did I even say to deserve that look?
So that’s why he’s making those eyes?
He’s so annoyingly averse to giving off a lazy impression, despite how lazy his personality actually is.
In the end, the only conclusion was that the head of the mage corps is even lazier than Klen.
Funny how that person never even appeared in the novel.
But it didn’t take long to realize why.
‘…They must’ve been punished.’
If they’d allowed an enemy infiltration due to negligence, any punishment after the fact would be expected.
No—since the enemy used teleportation magic, the head mage bears the greatest responsibility.
‘Maybe I can use this.’
Looks like I need to meet the head mage sooner rather than later.
No matter how lazy they are, people cling to their positions—and their lives—when it’s on the line.
Even though no one was watching us anymore, Klen continued his exhausting charade, supporting me like I was an invalid.
Eventually, we arrived at the final stop of this long, drawn-out performance—my room.
The servants waiting nearby jumped in shock as soon as they saw me.
“Lord Adrian?!”
“What on earth happened?! You were perfectly fine when you left—”
“W-wasn’t Sir Klen with you the whole time?!”
* * *
