Chapter 82 - Even If It’s My Friend
This wasn’t about feeling threatened by My Friend’s bewitching allure. My foremost concern was determining how to handle our future interactions. And if he were to make the fortress his base, preparing for his arrival fell squarely on my shoulders as its commander.
Even as friends, the rigid hierarchy of nobility couldn’t be ignored. Our knightly house stood at the aristocracy’s lowest tier, while My Friend’s family—a high count household—belonged to the uppermost echelons. Under normal circumstances, someone of our station wouldn’t even qualify to serve as his retainer.
Yet here we were, with the power dynamics flipped entirely.
A mere knightly house granting permission to a high count scion... Was this truly wise? Would the Prime Minister’s office tolerate such an inversion? The noble council would undoubtedly take offense. Our sole saving grace was the king’s royal decree—though whether His Majesty found this amusing or not was another matter entirely. The thought sent a chill down my spine. Were we warping the very foundations of our social order?
Such concerns swirled endlessly in my mind. The magic academy had drilled our kingdom’s aristocratic systems into me until I could recite them in my sleep. Yet this was My Friend. My chest tightened with conflicting emotions. Officially, this arrangement would be framed as a high count’s second son establishing a research facility in our borderland territory to develop magitech tools for the people—with our knightly house merely providing assistance.
We’d need to make it abundantly clear this wasn’t some casual affair. The same went for his retainers. One misstep in perception, and a flimsy house like ours could vanish overnight. Caution was paramount—an inevitable consequence of befriending someone so unorthodox.
Preparations at the fortress couldn’t wait either. Had My Friend remained male, there’d be no issue. Distinguished visitors weren’t unheard of—neighboring knightly heirs sometimes came for inspections, even overnight stays.
But a noblewoman lodging at our fortress? Unprecedented. Not a single soul among us had experience preparing “proper accommodations” for female guests. The potential for disastrous missteps loomed large unless we established protocols.
Even if My Friend insisted “I’m a man!” at the top of his lungs.
Besides, I was exhausted—not physically, but mentally. Tonight, I needed space to think. I harbored no illusions about reaching any brilliant conclusions, but I couldn’t remain by My Friend’s side right now. Certain boundaries needed reinforcing—within myself most of all.
As I prepared my horse in the stables, the leader of First Squad, Shooter, came rushing out.
“Returning to the fortress, Commander?”
“Aye. Your squad can follow tomorrow—you’re due for leave anyway.”
“Then allow me as your escort! I’ll take my leave at the fortress!”
“Don’t push yourself.”
“The communicators promised to teach me new skills!”
“Oh? Very well. Take the reins.”
“At once, sir!”
The two of us—the Shooter and I—made our way along the night road. A cascade of brilliant moonlight bathed the path in its glow, illuminating our way forward. The well-maintained cobblestones offered smooth passage, requiring no particular effort to traverse. Along the edges of the road, where magic communication lines lay buried, streetlamps stood at regular intervals, their soft light punctuating the darkness. Even with nocturnal beasts prowling, traveling with one of our finest shooters made it so I felt no concern. The journey passed in tranquil silence.
The shooter maintained her silence, gripping the horse’s bridle. Only the rhythmic clop-clop of hooves echoed unnaturally loud in the quiet night. Moonlight glinted off the swaying barrel of the rifle slung across her back. On impulse, I broke the silence.
“How does the rifle handle? I heard it matches—perhaps exceeds—its original specs.”
“Yes... that’s correct. The handling has improved. Accuracy too. The trajectory stays true now, more obedient than before... But...”
“Some complaint?”
“It’s just... receiving such fine equipment from you, then having it modified... Should I really be this pleased about altering a gift from my commander?”
“Soldier, that’s precisely what makes it right. Improving our gear—making it sturdier, more precise, more reliable—that’s what keeps our guerilla unit alive. My knowledge has limits. My friend’s skills far surpass mine, though he detest weaponsmithing. Only our focus on anti-monster tools convinced him to help. A fortunate arrangement.”
“Is that... so?”
“My friend has an aversion to violence that borders on the pathological. The suffering of others is anathema to him—even at the cost of his own well-being. When this war began, he abandoned his noble house. Changed his face. His gender. Lived in filth among the slums. All to refuse crafting weapons that might take lives. What else can you call that but foolishness? Had he been caught, execution as a traitor awaited. He is such a fool.”
“...So, he’s prepared to stay true to his beliefs and fulfill his purpose, even if it costs him everything?”
“I suppose he is. That’s exactly why I couldn’t abandon that fool who pursued his ideals to such lengths.”
“...Is it because you’re friends?”
“Yes... we’re friends. Even though his sex is different now, his heart is the same. Reckless, always rushing in without thinking. If a noble lady like that actually existed, her household would have had a hell of a time dealing with her. I was probably the only one who could’ve handled it.”
“Commander! You—! With him—!”
The archer couldn’t finish her sentence. Still gripping her horse’s reins tightly, she stopped walking and simply stood there in the moonlit path. Hm? What is it? She was frozen, looking at me with a mix of anger and sorrow in her eyes. I waited, wondering what she was about to say—but no words came. The moonlight poured down on her in cold, sharp clarity. Then, she let out a long, heavy sigh. Right. I needed to think carefully about how to deal with My Friend.
“That one... is my friend. No matter how far apart we go, he’ll always be my friend. Back in our days at the Alchemy Tower, we exchanged ideas, sparked inspiration in each other, and created things together. He was part of that. But now, he is a certified court mage under the Royal Palace Magitech Academy in the capital. What’s more, he is the second son of a high count’s family. In noble society, he’s someone far above the clouds. Ordinary folks wouldn’t even get the chance to hear a word from someone like him. It’s only because I’m tolerated that I’m allowed to speak to him so informally. Everyone in his retinue holds a title as well. Even now, they’re all being dragged along by his whims. But no matter how close we seem, there’s a line that can’t be crossed. You must never forget that. Be cautious—people in noble society wear masks that make it hard to tell if they approach with kindness or with malice.”
“...Understood.”
“I want to reach the fortress before midnight. Let’s go.”
“Yes.”
And with that, the road ahead continued in silence, just the two of us. Something settled in my mind, too. Yes... he’s a friend. But still, I had to remember—he’s someone I can’t grow too close to. Speaking it aloud to the shooter helped me confirm that, and I suppose that’s a good thing. We’ll stay on friendly terms, but always with respect and proper boundaries. And so our journey ended. We arrived at the fortress just before midnight.
It had been... a quiet night indeed.
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