Chapter 70…
The knights of unknown origin.
That’s what Sierra had called them.
“Tell me in detail.”
But Dante wasn’t in a hurry.
Sierra had spoken quickly, but she hadn’t sounded impatient.
If this were truly a critical situation, the atmosphere wouldn’t be like this.
“There are thirty-two of them. A knight order with armor and banners of a type I’ve never seen before. But the one leading them was none other than the deputy steward of your house.”
“I see.”
That meant they were invited guests.
Of course, Dante hadn’t invited them—so it must’ve been someone else.
And with high probability, that someone was Lucia.
“So, it’s begun.”
At this very moment, an unidentified order of knights was on their way to the mansion.
That could only mean one thing:
A replacement for Silver Obscura, who had been shattered by Acracion.
“A new blade.”
“How did their strength look?”
“All of them had extremely faint mana.”
“So faint that even you couldn’t sense it properly?”
“Yes. They seemed far stronger than the likes of Silver Obscura.”
Sierra’s magical talent was enough to be called genius.
Her sensitivity, perception, and control were beyond extraordinary.
If even she couldn’t properly gauge them…
“Looks like this time they’ve drawn a rather sharp blade.”
The corners of Dante’s lips curled slightly.
He didn’t look worried at all.
Unless the opponent was someone like Erebos, there was no way he and Acracion couldn’t handle them.
Dante’s interest began shifting away from their strength and more toward their backers.
Who exactly was standing behind Lucia?
What kind of ties did they have, that knights like these kept appearing one after another?
Counting those he’d encountered on his way back from the duchy, plus Silver Obscura, the total easily exceeded a hundred.
Such a number of knight-class fighters was something even most noble houses couldn’t muster.
Even the Aquites family’s Silver Cross Knight Order—the “Guardians of the Empire’s North”—numbered only about fifty.
Clearly, Lucia had joined hands with a massive power, something beyond imagination.
Who they were, or where they came from, he still couldn’t guess.
“Tell everyone: it’s begun. Draw your swords and be ready.”
“As you command.”
Milleon bowed his head and immediately left the training grounds.
“Shall we go too?”
“Too bad. I was hoping we’d get some intense training in today.”
“If you’re that disappointed, why don’t you stay and spar with the captain instead?”
“…Let’s move quickly.”
Zionhac and Cedric exchanged light jokes as they followed.
“Sierra.”
Dante called the last one remaining.
“Yes, my lord?”
“Have you found any trace of Sir Patrick?”
The mysterious knight order was important—but Patrick’s safety was a hundred times more important.
“My apologies.”
Sierra shook her head with a pained look.
“No clues at all about his whereabouts?”
“Not exactly. However…”
She hesitated briefly, then carefully continued.
“At the place where his trail vanished… I discovered bloodstains.”
Dante’s brow furrowed at that.
Sierra quickly added an explanation.
“The amount wasn’t enough to be fatal. He may have fled while injured, or perhaps…”
“He could’ve been captured.”
“I cannot deny the possibility.”
It was fortunate he wasn’t dead.
But either scenario was bad.
“Sierra. From now on, I want you to focus solely on finding Patrick.”
“…My lord.”
She looked troubled.
The unidentified knight order—almost certainly enemies—was coming here.
To leave her comrades and be assigned elsewhere wasn’t what she wanted.
Dante understood her feelings.
He would’ve felt the same.
But he couldn’t just ignore Patrick either.
Patrick had worked tirelessly for years on his behalf.
To not safeguard such a man’s life—Dante’s beliefs would never allow it.
“I’m asking you.”
He chose “asking” rather than “ordering.”
Sierra let out a sigh.
If her lord spoke with such resolve, refusing would be a betrayal of her duty.
“…I accept.”
Nodding at last, she kicked off the ground, soaring into the sky and vanishing from sight.
Her movements were astonishingly sharp.
Dante stood quietly, gazing at the empty air, then exhaled a long breath.
I don’t know who the enemy is…
But one thing was certain.
“They’ll regret coming here.”
Without a doubt.
The deputy steward, Brandon.
Behind him, thirty-two knights stepped into the mansion grounds.
Armor of pure white, reminiscent of holy knights of a church.
Disciplined steps.
A subtle, immense aura radiating outward.
The onlookers could only stare in awe.
“Who are they?”
“Did they come from the capital?”
“Wait… don’t tell me they’re the Imperial Guardian Knights?”
Even those used to seeing countless knights under the Aquites household were shaken.
Their appearance was that impressive.
But only for a moment.
“Silence.”
A heavy voice rang out, pressing their lips shut.
It came from the new officials who’d recently entered the household.
On their faces as they looked upon the white knights was… an inexplicable delight.
Everyone else tilted their heads in confusion.
At that moment, the mansion doors opened.
Someone stepped out.
“We greet the Marchioness.”
Brandon spoke first.
“We greet the Marchioness!”
All thirty-two knights shouted in unison.
“Gasp!”
“My ears—!”
The shout swept through the area like a battlefield roar.
The weaker ones collapsed on the spot, unable to endure it.
Amid this overwhelming presence, the Marchioness, Lucia, smiled brightly.
“Welcome. I’ve been waiting for you.”
She opened her arms, welcoming the knights.
“Thank you for your hospitality.”
One knight stepped forward beside Brandon and bowed politely.
“…It’s been a long time, Sir Yuren.”
“About fifteen years, I believe.”
“Has it really been that long?”
The two seemed to have known each other beforehand, their conversation flowing naturally.
For a moment, the atmosphere warmed with pleasantries.
“I pushed you too much, didn’t I? You must’ve had little time to prepare.”
“I understand. From what I heard on the way, it seems our strength will certainly be needed.”
“Thank you for understanding.”
“Shall we begin the cleansing right away, then?”
At Yuren’s words, the onlookers frowned.
Cleansing? What did he mean?
Knights weren’t servants.
But Lucia seemed to understand.
Not just her—those who had come with her also reacted knowingly.
The air seemed to heat up with anticipation.
“You must be weary from your journey. Shouldn’t you rest a little?”
“Your kindness is appreciated, but we have a greater mission than rest, do we not?”
The more they spoke, the greater the onlookers’ confusion.
Cleansing? Mission?
As they wondered, Lucia spoke again.
“Then, I’ll summon the child.”
“Please do, Marchioness.”
Yuren bowed, and Lucia turned to give an order.
“Tell my eldest son his mother wishes to see him.”
“…You mean the Young Master?”
“Don’t make me repeat myself.”
The air suddenly felt icy.
Was Lucia always this cold?
She had always embraced her subordinates’ mistakes with warmth.
But now—such a chilling response over a single question.
The sharp-eyed among them realized something was very wrong.
Today, here—
Something would happen.
They didn’t know what exactly, but unease welled up from deep within.
The same tense atmosphere that had filled the mansion for days.
“A-as you command.”
The head maid, flustered, bowed and hurried off.
She was about to find Dante.
But before she could get far, she froze.
Step. Step.
Footsteps echoed.
A crushing pressure filled the space.
And then—
“No need to look. I came myself.”
A calm voice.
All eyes turned at once.
There he was—Dante.
Perhaps fresh from the training yard, dressed lightly with his sword at his hip, walking in casually.
“M-My lord!”
“Young master!”
The servants bowed low at the sight of him.
Ordinary greetings, but the air was different.
Dante felt it in his bones as he approached Lucia and Yuren.
“So, you’re the heir of House Aquites I’ve heard so much about. I’ve been wanting to meet you.”
As Dante drew near, Yuren smiled warmly and spoke first.
Dante’s eyes lingered on him briefly… then shifted immediately to Lucia.
“You called for me?”
A blatant disregard.
Lucia’s face twisted.
She hadn’t expected to face him like this.
“My, despite your young age, your hearing must already be failing.”
Then—
Yuren’s mocking voice.
Perhaps a jab for being ignored.
His tongue carried a sharper edge this time.
But again, Dante ignored him.
He only looked at Lucia, and spoke once more.
“May I ask what this is about?”
After twice being dismissed, Yuren’s smile finally vanished.
“This seems rather discourteous, wouldn’t you agree, Marchioness?”
“I do agree, Sir Yuren.”
Lucia nodded, her expression stern as she scolded Dante.
“What rudeness is this? Apologize to Sir Yuren at once—”
“Mother.”
Dante’s calm voice cut her off.
Her eyes widened.
But it was too soon to be shocked.
“Have you ever heard the saying: When the tiger is absent, the fox pretends to be king?”
A sudden proverb.
“What do you mean…?”
“That’s exactly the state of things right now.”
