Kasumireaz wrapped up his explanation to the spectators in a few crisp sentences, then turned back around.
His face was tighter than usual. Without even a breath between addressing the crowd and acting, the Captain of the Guard issued orders at once.
“All personnel, Type One combat readiness. Assemble in the arena in five minutes. Anyone without a mount—borrow a match horse individually.”
No sooner had he spoken than the knights scattered at tremendous speed.
Their expressions were entirely different.
Overwhelmed by the sudden change in atmosphere, Masumi flinched—only for Kasumireaz to seize her wrist.
“I dislike it, but there’s no choice. You’ll come with me.”
“Huh?”
“Don’t forget. You are still under suspicion as a spy.”
So he couldn’t leave her alone.
And as he said it, Masumi’s knees were swept from under her, and she was scooped up into a bridal carry before she could even process it.
“Arms around my neck.”
The next instant, Kasumireaz vaulted the spectator railing in a single, fluid leap. There was no wind-up, no hesitation.
“Y-you’ve got to be kidding meee!?”
A brief moment of weightlessness—followed immediately by the sick lurch of falling.
Shame and dignity vanished. No—she didn’t even have the spare capacity to consider them. Masumi clung to the side of Kasumireaz’s neck for dear life.
In this case, she thought screaming ought to be allowed.
Even in an emergency, being dragged into a jump with no explanation and no time to brace herself—she was pretty sure it had been the height of two, maybe three stories.
If you were unarmored, you could die.
Best case, a complicated fracture.
She squeezed her eyes shut and braced for impact, but the landing was unexpectedly light.
Thump.
With the sound, a breeze brushed gently through her hair. When she dared to open her eyes, her viewpoint had changed.
From the edge of the arena, a knight came running, leading a chestnut horse. Obediently reined in, it was Kasumireaz’s own mount—the one that had carried her from the garrison to the city.
The arena was in uproar: horses being brought out, knights checking gear. Shouts flew in the chaos, yet the horses remained calm—no doubt because they were trained warhorses.
As the chestnut advanced, muscle swelling along its powerful legs, it carried itself with the presence befitting the Captain of the Guard.
Still holding Masumi, Kasumireaz swung up into the saddle with practiced ease.
“The rest is yours.”
He said it sharply to a middle-aged knight beside him.
“Leave it to me.”
The man, in armor of a different design, nodded with force. From that brief exchange alone, Masumi understood: he must be a Vestofa knight, left to secure the arena.
Even he regarded it as perfectly normal that Masumi was up on the horse.
Kasumireaz guided the chestnut to the center of the arena.
The knights were already lined up in disciplined order. Hardened cheeks, eyes lit with resolve. Longswords at their waists, reins in hand, greatshields raised.
And not a single person objected.
No one protested that Masumi—who couldn’t fight—was with their commander. They didn’t even look surprised. They simply fixed her with those heated stares.
“We ride!”
The Captain of the Guard raised his right hand high. The chestnut reared, whinnying like a declaration of departure.
A knight remaining behind for defense hauled open the massive double doors at the front.
The chestnut sprang into a powerful run.
The venue—silent as if someone had thrown water over it—burst into cheers. Hearing them fade behind her, Masumi clung to the thick armor-plated chest in front of her.
With the violent bucking of the ride, Masumi poured all her strength into her arms so she wouldn’t be thrown off.
They were faster than when they’d raced from the garrison to the city. This time she didn’t even have the breath to scream—she could only keep her eyes shut and endure the relentless shaking.
In the midst of that, a question swelled up that wasn’t small at all.
She was absolutely going to be dead weight. Knowing that, why bring her along?
Yes, her spy suspicion still hadn’t been cleared.
But there had been ways to leave her behind.
Even if Kasumireaz and the others were departing to subjugate beasts, the Vestofa garrison knights had been assigned to defend the arena. The words “The rest is yours” clearly conveyed trust. He could have simply said one line to them and had Masumi restrained.
So why go out of his way?
What made it even more bewildering was Kasumireaz himself.
He doubted her, yet he still addressed her politely as “you,” never dropping his formal tone. Ark had said spies could be cut down on the spot without complaint. If the hierarchy was that absolute, then rougher treatment would have made sense.
The more she thought, the more contradictory it seemed—unfathomable.
“How many—and what kind!?”
Kasumireaz shouted from horseback.
A guard stationed at the city gate came running up in a panic. While Masumi had kept her eyes shut, they must have already thundered through the city in a blink.
Around the stone pillars she’d seen before, guards clustered. All of them were staring at the black mass surging down the road.
“Wolves! But it’s a nasty pack—multiple caravans on this road have been hit!”
“…Man-eaters.”
Kasumireaz’s voice dropped a notch.
“They’re the largest pack in this region, but we’ve never seen them gather in one place like this—”
The guard’s eyes darted between the road outside and Kasumireaz, frantic. Following that line of sight, Masumi nearly screamed.
A black tidal wave was coming.
It was nothing like the group that had chased them earlier. Just the number alone made her want to run—and then there was that word: man-eaters.
Please, she thought. Please no.
Too wild.
Beside the guard and Masumi, who were both visibly shrinking back, Kasumireaz didn’t show so much as a flicker.
“Don’t panic. The ones we dealt with earlier were simply a subordinate part of this pack.”
“Subordinate…?”
“They likely came to retrieve their fellows. I restrained myself because it was the investiture and I didn’t want to offend appearances, but erasing them without a trace was a mistake. If I’d thrown the bodies back at them, they would’ve tucked tail and retreated.”
The Captain of the Guard said something thoroughly dangerous.
Wild didn’t even begin to cover it.
The wild conversation continued without caring how Masumi felt about it.
“The pack size?”
“A-at least three hundred, sir.”
“A lot.”
Kasumireaz clicked his tongue. He worked the reins, turning the chestnut around. Behind them was a dense cluster of muscle-bound men, brimming with eagerness.
Heat pressed in from all sides.
No one looked afraid. If anything, they seemed to be waiting for orders—now, now. You could almost hear them: I’ll go—no, me.
Under the weight of that fervent attention, Kasumireaz swept his gaze over the dozens of riders.
“We hold until Ark returns. First through Third Lances, deploy to the front. Build the defensive line and thin them as much as possible.”
The orders came in the fewest words possible.
A unit to their left immediately burst out beyond the city gate. Without even watching them reach their posts, Kasumireaz faced the remaining knights again.
“Fourth through Seventh, hold the flanks. Eliminate anything that breaks past the first line.”
Before he could elaborate, another group moved.
And when the churn of movement passed, the number left behind was so small Masumi could count them on one hand.
Even including Kasumireaz, there were only ten riders.
The horses were huge and thickly muscled, and the men on them matched—so the space had looked fuller than it was.
Seeing how few they truly were, Masumi reflexively looked back.
Just then, it seemed the knights assigned to the front line had reached their position.
From one end to the other, they began driving their shields into the ground with tremendous force. Their greatshields were pointed five-sided shapes—if you swung them down that hard, sure, they’d bite into earth.
But was that… right?
A shield was supposed to protect you, wasn’t it?
The question surged up, but the knights didn’t care about her worry. With a vigor that practically made the sound audible—clang, clang, clang—they planted shields like grave markers. Counting them, there were nine across.
Only nine. So even the “front line” wasn’t ten men.
Hey. Are you serious. Is this really okay?
They’d said “first defensive line” like something grand, but what could they do with so few? The enemy was “at least three hundred,” wasn’t it?
Cold sweat gathered at Masumi’s temple.
They were spaced widely, but with only nine, the width they could cover was limited. Unable to look away, Masumi watched as the front-line knights began to glow a pale blue.
As if answering them, the shields took on light as well.
The glow stretched sideways. A soft, joining motion—like hands reaching and clasping—repeated along the line, and then a massive arcing wall of light stood there.
It shone thickly around the shields, dyeing the landscape beyond in blue. It looked like a gigantic aquarium had appeared out of nowhere.
Kasumireaz narrowed his eyes slightly as he watched.
There was still distance between the blue barrier and the black swarm. The horses on the front line stood with their tails streaming in the wind, not a hint of fear in them.
In front of the knights forming the first line, riders ordered to protect the flanks waited at either side. If the front was the First Line, then those riders were the Second.
“Sir Aisel, what of the final defensive line?”
A fine voice came from behind them at an angle.
The speaker was the big knight who had grabbed Masumi by the ankle and begged, “Please, be my personal musician.”
Kasumireaz turned his eyes. Prompted to continue, the subordinate offered a proposal.
“If we only need to secure the gate, we can take it. My Eighth Lance can hold the north, and Ninth and Tenth can take east and west. That would leave the south to you alone, Sir Aisel, but—”
“That is appropriate, in terms of strength.”
“Then shall we do so?”
The big knight tightened his grip on the reins, ready to wheel his horse around—
But Kasumireaz stopped him.
“Wait. No. You will remain as rotation for the First Line.”
The knight couldn’t hide his surprise.
“Sir Aisel?”
“This is a city, not a fortress. We cannot permit a minimal final line. If anything happens to the residents, it will be too late.”
“You mean to place defenses around all of Vestofa’s perimeter!?”
At the shocked cry, eyes turned toward them. The other waiting knights, and even the gate guards, stared with mouths and eyes wide open. Everyone looked stunned—everyone except Kasumireaz, whose expression didn’t shift by so much as a hair.
“There’s no problem. I alone am enough.”
“Of course I don’t doubt your ability, sir, but… your burden will become immense.”
“I don’t care. When there is something you must protect, what good is it to hold back the power meant to protect it?”
At those decisive words, the subordinate looked as if he’d been struck.
Then, in the next breath, his face tightened and he bowed, utterly convinced.
He returned to the waiting position.
After watching him go, Kasumireaz guided the chestnut to the front of the stone bridge at the city entrance.
What was about to begin?
In the hush that had fallen over everything, Masumi held her breath and watched him.
He neither raised his shield nor drew his sword. He simply spoke, quietly and clearly.
“Albarique, blue nation of justice—enduring blessing of the eternal light—answer the vow by which I have devoted this life to become a guardian with my own hands.”
A prayer.
Masumi understood at once, by instinct.
“Let this city be blessed. Great shield of light that repels all calamity—by your radiance, sweep away every wicked intent.”
The prayer turned into light.
Kasumireaz shone a deep, rich blue, like a spring of water at its source. Light spilled from him in flowing strands, crawling over everything like living vines.
Over the chestnut’s body. Over the stone bridge beneath them. Over the moat water running below.
The light split into multiple streams, undulating along the surface of the water. And then Vestofa itself was wrapped in blue radiance.
Looking closely, Masumi realized the knights moved in groups of three.
They seemed to be scattering at random, but in truth their movements were controlled. The “Lances” were probably their units—something like squads.
And then a calm part of her mind cut in: wait a second.
Only ten Lances had been named. Three people per Lance meant thirty knights.
Thirty, against an enemy with ten times the numbers—how were they supposed to fight?
Even the simplest math made it grim: ten beasts per knight.
And that was assuming “at least three hundred.” There were likely more, meaning the real burden was higher.
A thousand-ball drill?
Even to an amateur, it didn’t look remotely lenient. But before her worry could fully settle, the front line erupted.
Literally.
The color was blue—but it was fire.
She’d expected them to cut down foes one by one like knights of old, but it wasn’t anything like that. The blue flames repeatedly unfurled, as if to say they had no intention of doing something so inefficient.
Facing their onslaught, the black tide lost momentum.
The flames were so flashy they stole the eye, but the glowing shields were doing quiet work too. Beasts that barely dodged the fire tried to force their way through—only to be bounced back like a curt “Not today.”
It had a subdued, seasoned effectiveness to it.
Masumi wanted to applaud.
As she stared at the scene like something out of a film, Kasumireaz shifted.
“Eighth through Tenth—now. Take your positions.”
At his order, the remaining three groups who had been waiting inside the gate moved all at once.
What did he mean, now?
With that kind of momentum, it looked like they’d be done soon—Masumi had barely formed the thought when reality overturned it.
The wall of light vanished.
The knights at the front line began to retreat, recovering the shields they’d planted. The roaring flames died down as well. Naturally, the beasts surged forward, the black swell gathering speed again.
The knights raised their longswords.
And then, almost immediately, they collided head-on.
“Why!? That’s dangerous—you’ll get hurt—ah!”
Masumi’s fear turned into truth at once.
One knight fell from his horse. A beast had leapt high, clamped onto his shoulder, and dragged him down.
In an instant, the black mass swelled over the spot.
Masumi couldn’t look away. She held her breath—then saw two nearby knights carve a path through the beasts and haul their fallen comrade back up.
But her relief lasted only a heartbeat.
The wolf-things kept coming, their hunger on full display.
The front line swung longswords, but at such close range, it was inevitable they couldn’t catch them all. The second line took what slipped through, yet the press of numbers forced them steadily backward.
There was no end in sight.
At this rate, the wave would reach the city.
“Why aren’t you fighting with that blue light!?”
Twisting at the waist, Masumi pounded a fist against the armored chest in front of her.
Kasumireaz’s jaw and chin were in her view. He didn’t spare her a glance—he only watched the battlefield, calm and still.
“If I could, I would.”
He murmured it without turning his eyes.
There was no emotion in his voice.
“This is what it means to have no personal musician.”
The spare, almost resigned explanation didn’t sound like him. It wasn’t his usual careful clarity, and it didn’t help Masumi understand.
But she couldn’t force out another question.
He probably wasn’t blaming her.
And yet, it made her heart ache.
A voice carrying resolve—someone who wanted something desperately, but didn’t truly believe they would ever have it.
Masumi couldn’t find words to answer that.
