9.
"Lancel's father?"
"Yes. Has this useless son of mine been causing you trouble?"
"Of course not! Lancel is my benefactor. He even promised to help me open a bakery. Though I was a bit embarrassed when he suddenly proposed..."
"Proposed, eh? The men of House Dante are always blinded by love. Domestic harmony, love for family—it's the tradition of our bloodline born as knights."
"That's the first I'm hearing of this."
"You be quiet."
"Ack!"
Lancel clutched his head as another punch landed on his crown.
"I raised you with such hardship, and you run away? Even stealing the family sword? Do you have any idea how your actions have thrown our house into chaos, you worthless boy? Take this!"
"Gack!"
Marigold watched with curiosity as Lancel was repeatedly struck.
*What a household.*
He rubbed his throbbing head.
"Why are you traveling alone, sir?"
"Alone? Hardly. There's a wild boar hunting camp nearby. I was just getting some fresh air when I ran into Miss Mary."
"You've come quite far."
"You'll understand when you're married."
"I doubt it."
Lancel thought this was a blessing in disguise. At least the entire Dante family hadn't descended upon them.
"Father, now that you know I'm fine, could you keep this a secret from the family..."
"Don't be ridiculous."
"This is... training to live as a knight. Didn't Grandfather also live outside when he was young to poach—I mean, hunt?"
"Indeed. Keep talking."
"It's not like I'm doing anything dangerous. I'm just training in a place with good air and beautiful scenery. My skills have actually improved significantly..."
"Oh? Let's see how much you've improved then. You could barely hold a sword before—I wonder how far you've come."
"That would be faster, I suppose."
Lancel quickly stood up, seizing the opportunity. Viscount Dante raised his sword as if he'd been waiting for this moment.
"Eek!"
Marigold covered her mouth in surprise.
"Come."
"You'll be surprised."
"If I'm not truly impressed, I'll drag you home and put you under house arrest for three years. Lancel."
His thick black bear fur cloak fluttered.
Viscount Dante stood firmly before Lancel.
Both men clashed swords simultaneously.
CLANG!
"Ah!"
Marigold's startled scream echoed belatedly.
10.
"Tsk."
After five exchanges, Lancel found himself flat on the ground. His skills were clearly not yet at the level to match Viscount Dante.
The matchup was also poor.
Given Viscount Dante's sword technique that specialized in breaking through defenses, there was little Lancel could do when the difference in strength was so pronounced.
"Lancel, are you okay?"
"I could fight all day, Mary."
"Heh, such bravado..."
His head still rang from being struck with the flat of the blade. Marigold placed his head on her lap and frantically fanned him.
"Well, it seems you haven't just been playing around."
Lancel glanced sideways at Viscount Dante. Though trying to appear nonchalant, there was considerable agitation in his eyes.
He had intended to overpower Lancel with a single strike of his sword—to demonstrate the difference in strength and drag him home.
But after Lancel deflected four consecutive attacks, even Viscount Dante's expression visibly changed. Though Lancel yielded to the fifth strike...
Even that would have been defendable if not for the difference in raw strength. Viscount Dante knew this too.
"Can't you let Lancel stay here, Father?"
"Father?"
"Yes, Father."
Marigold's voice.
Viscount Dante sheathed his sword and sat down heavily beside her.
"I promised to open a bakery with Lancel. I'll let you use it for free later. How about that?"
"Heh, I have quite an appetite, child. If you make such a promise carelessly, you'll go bankrupt. Are you willing to let your bakery fail?"
"I-I'll make plenty! On days when you visit, I'll pile bread as high as mountains! I'll make ham and cheese too!"
"Oh?"
Viscount Dante raised the corner of his mouth and glanced at Lancel.
"Ahem, Miss Mary. All this exertion has made my throat dry. Could you bring me something to drink?"
"Something to drink! Yes! I'll bring warm milk! I'll be right back, so please don't take Lancel away while I'm gone!"
Marigold dashed off.
Only Lancel and Viscount Dante remained in the storehouse.
"She's a good girl. No wonder you're smitten."
"She's one reason I want to stay here. Of course, the primary reason is to train as a knight and someday bring honor to our family..."
"You'll die."
Viscount Dante cut off Lancel's passionate speech.
"That girl, Mary—she won't live long."
He gazed steadily in the direction Marigold had disappeared.
"I've seen similar children in the north. Her illness is fatal. Like flowing water that cannot be grasped, there's no way to stop her evaporating mana."
"..."
"Before long, God will take her too. There's no good in becoming attached to someone who will soon die."
Viscount Dante's gray eyes turned to Lancel.
"I won't say this twice. Come home and stay there. This is all for your own good."
"Because she's going to die."
Lancel staggered to his feet. His head still rang from the blow, but he met Viscount Dante's gaze.
"That's why I want to be with her until she dies."
"Pathetic fool. You're creating your own regrets."
"I swore to stay with her."
"Swore?"
"Yes, as a knight of House Dante."
"Using our family name as you please. I've never seen such an absurd boy."
That was a lie.
He simply wanted Marigold to live happily until her death. The honor and tradition of House Dante meant nothing to him.
But there was a change in Viscount Dante's expression.
"Then let's do this."
Viscount Dante looked at Lancel clearly.
"I'll send someone for you to cross swords with regularly. If you're truly here for training, you can prove your progress each time, can't you?"
It was a gift.
"Absolutely."
"If I hear even once that you've stagnated, I'll tell your mother immediately. We'll forcibly carry you back home. Are you confident?"
"Please think of it as early independence. I have no intention of returning for a while."
"Stubborn fool."
Viscount Dante smiled wryly.
"I'll assign someone as a messenger. Send a letter at least once a week. If you miss even once... you understand?"
"I'll write such long, moving letters that you might cry."
"...How did such a stubborn mule come from me?"
"Isn't it because I take after you, Father?"
"No. You clearly take after your mother."
"Lancel's father!"
Just then, Marigold returned with a bottle of milk. She poured it until the cup overflowed and handed it to Viscount Dante.
"Huff, huff, here you go! If you finish it all, I'll give you more!"
"Oh, it's nice and warm. Thank you."
After downing three cups in one go, Viscount Dante crouched down to meet Marigold's eyes.
"Father... what about Lancel...?"
"When you open your bakery, I'll certainly visit. Make sure you prepare plenty."
"...! You're not taking Lancel away?"
Instead of answering, Viscount Dante ruffled her hair with his rough hand.
Beads of sweat dotted Marigold's forehead.
"Mary, was it?"
"Yes! Yes, Father!"
Viscount Dante smiled faintly.
"I hope you have a spring filled with flowers."
"...Pardon?"
"It's nothing."
A life that would not be long.
His feelings toward Marigold, who would live a short life, seemed to flicker briefly across his face.
"I'm leaving."
He walked out of the storehouse.
Viscount Dante mounted his horse without a wave and disappeared into the distance. Only his thick black bear fur cloak fluttering in the winter wind could be seen.
*He didn't take back the family sword.*
Lancel looked at the precious sword left in his hands and smiled wryly.
"Lancel, you're not leaving?"
"Where would I go?"
"Lancel!"
Lancel barely managed to support Marigold as she threw herself into his arms. His head still rang from Viscount Dante's blows.
"But where do we start with the bakery?"
"Good question."
"You don't know either."
11.
"Who are those men?"
On the snowy field.
Viscount Dante spotted three men waving their arms.
"Mercenaries, my lord."
One of the knights following him spoke up.
"They seemed to have something they wanted to say... what would you like to do?"
"Bring them here."
Three injured mercenaries approached Viscount Dante.
"Lord! Oh my, Lord Dante!"
They began speaking as if they had been waiting for this moment.
"There's definitely a thief in Erika Village, my lord! A young boy with gold coins and an impossibly fine sword... we saw him clearly!"
"H-he's a child without parents, so he couldn't possibly have so much money! He must have earned it through wrongdoing! Please believe us!"
"Viscount, let us serve you. He should still be there."
Viscount Dante stroked his chin while examining the wounds on their bodies. One with a severed wrist, another with a broken knee, and the third unable to use one arm.
Understanding the situation, Viscount Dante let out a hollow laugh.
"You're right. He is indeed a thief."
"Y-you believe us, Viscount Dante!"
"...Tsk, that damn boy, when did he steal gold coins too? Perhaps I should have taken back the family sword after all."
"Pardon?"
After a moment's thought, Viscount Dante drew his sword.
Slash!
The heads of all three mercenaries separated from their bodies simultaneously.
With expressions still pleading, the three heads rolled across the snow.
Viscount Dante didn't even glance at the mercenaries' bodies as they slowly collapsed. He sheathed his greatsword and turned his horse around.
"Let's go."
The knights following him didn't question his actions.
The head of the family had drawn his sword personally. That was proof enough that he had good reason.
The knights headed toward Dante territory as if nothing had happened.