Ch.1218Comedy and Misfortune

“I heard your story well. In short, you ran away from home when you were young, so you didn’t know, but you were actually from a family descended from the Great’s Twelve Knights.”

“No, about that ‘running away’ expression…”

“Why be embarrassed about such things? You know, there’s good running away and bad running away. What you did was good running away, so you should be proud of it.”

“What kind of sophistry is that?”

Nigel let out a hollow laugh in disbelief.

Actually, it wasn’t meant to be funny but a fact. Good and evil aren’t determined by actions themselves but by who performs those actions.

It’s like how my slaughtering thieves and cultists is righteous and just, but when those bastards slaughter others, it’s a sin deserving death by fire.

In that sense, Nigel’s running away was truly a good escape.

He cut ties with insane parents who forced strange things on their child—a truly right and admirable thing. Well done, our Nigel, well done.

—-

Anyway, it was quite an interesting story.

To think that a descendant of the Great’s Twelve Knights, whom I didn’t even dare to look for, had been by my side from the beginning. I wasn’t sure if I should call it fascinating or say how small the world is.

Was this what clerics often referred to as “guidance of fate”?

Honestly, talk of fate didn’t really resonate with me… but I was certain Lacy would say exactly that when I told her about this.

She’d probably go on about Elpinel’s guidance and the fated return of the Great’s Twelve Knights, then suggest we search diligently for other descendants.

…I’ll save the bragging for later. It would just make things unnecessarily complicated.

“Anyway, if that’s the case, then the spear has already found its rightful owner. I’ll give it to you completely, so make good use of it.”

“Um… thank you, Haschal.”

“It was your family heirloom to begin with, right? No need to thank me for just returning a lost item.”

After finishing Nigel’s past story, I decided to give him the spear of the Great’s Twelve Knights that I had initially planned to just lend him.

Originally, I was going to hand it over to Lacy and ask her to find its rightful owner, but now that the legitimate owner had appeared, there was no need for that.

“While we’re at it, should I restore your family name too? If I ask Leopold, he’d gladly agree.”

“You mean House Winlandria?”

“Yes. As a descendant of the Great’s Twelve Knights, shouldn’t you have a proper castle or title? Nigel de Winlandria, Viscount—it has a nice ring to it.”

Since the family was exterminated for treason, there might be some noise within the Empire… but that could easily be handled by Leopold, Lacy, and me.

When a goddess, an emperor, and a saint pressure others not to make unnecessary trouble, who in their right mind would dare express dissatisfaction or opposition?

To be frank, even if we decided to restore them not as viscounts but as counts or marquises, no one would dare oppose it.

“With all due respect… I’m not fond of that name.”

However, Nigel, the only person who could object to this, shook his head with a shudder as if he genuinely disliked that name.

“I’ve already cut ties with them, and they bear the stigma of traitors. If it becomes known now that I’m a descendant of the Great’s Twelve Knights, it would only bring shame to my ancestors.”

He really hates it terribly. His expression was almost like seeing a cockroach slowly approaching his mouth.

“Hmm… then perhaps it’s better to create and bestow a different name. What would be good… Do you have any name you’d prefer? A word you’ve always liked?”

“Well, um, that is, uh…”

“What is it? Don’t keep me in suspense. As long as it’s not something like Nigel de Muscle—”

Perhaps he had a name in mind for some time. Nigel, who had been hesitating and strangely blushing, squeezed his eyes shut and exclaimed at my urging.

“M-may I ask what Sir Jahan’s family name is?!”

What.

“……”

I was momentarily speechless.

Sir Jahan? Sir Jahan? Wow, look at this. He’s completely fallen for that simple-minded bandit.

I couldn’t help but laugh. Nigel slightly lowered his head, seemingly embarrassed to meet my eyes, which made it even more hilarious.

“To ask for Jahan’s family name here… how bold. Very bold indeed.”

I see, you want to take your prospective ‘husband’s’ name, right? Like noble ladies typically do after marriage?

“Why, should I arrange a wedding ceremony for you two once we finish our business and return to the surface?”

“W-wedding?! No, that’s not, I mean…!”

Nigel exclaimed, startled as he jerked his head up.

“Not what?”

“Well, after the world regains its former stability…”

So you’ve already set a wedding date? You’d probably start a rebellion if I married Jahan off to another woman.

“Aha, so you do have intentions to marry him?”

“Th-that’s… I mean… uuuugh…”

Ah, Nigel has broken down. Was I being too mischievous?

But how could I resist? His face turned as red as an apple, which was so amusing to watch.

So I couldn’t help teasing him. It wasn’t my fault—it was because Nigel’s reactions were not just funny but adorably so.

And it wasn’t just Nigel’s reactions that were amusing.

[That, that fox-like woman…! What wedding? That will never happen as long as I have breath in my body!]

‘No way, this is killing me. What are you, a mother-in-law bullying her daughter-in-law?’

Hersella was also having a fit in my head like a mother-in-law who lost her son, and I felt like I would burst into laughter if I relaxed even for a moment.

—-

Despite the near disaster of my intestines twisting from holding in laughter, Nigel became the new owner of the spear left by the Great’s Twelve Knights.

In addition to Eberond’s holy spear that he had been using, he now wielded two holy spears simultaneously.

Since he was originally skilled at fighting with a dagger in one hand and a spear in the other, he said adapting to holding a spear instead of a dagger wouldn’t be a problem.

‘Dual spears… dual spears…’

But somehow, the term “dual spears” seemed to carry an ominous feeling beyond that of dual swords.

To be specific, it evoked the image of someone who committed adultery with his lord’s fiancée and met a miserable end as karmic retribution.

And instead of showing regret or remorse, he would die cursing vehemently in defiance. For some reason, that was the only image that came to mind when thinking of dual spears.

…Well, Nigel wouldn’t face such a future.

I, his lord, don’t have a fiancée, shouldn’t have one, and won’t have one in the future.

[Grrrr…! How frustrating! If only I weren’t in this state…!]

If I were to force a connection, it might seem like Hersella had something taken from her, but even that wasn’t quite the same scenario, so it was a meaningless assumption.

Hersella’s feelings toward Jahan weren’t romantic but closer to sibling affection. Jahan’s feelings were also familial affection mixed with loyalty.

It was like the relationship between a fierce, cruel bandit brother who’s warm to his family, and a thug step-sister starved for affection because her real family was full of terrible people.

So Nigel would be safe wielding dual spears—as long as I didn’t suddenly go crazy and declare Jahan as my fiancé.

======[ Caljarat ]======

While Nigel headed to the training room excitedly swinging his spear, and Haschal was left alone, finally bursting into the laughter he had been holding back…

“…Are you sure this is the right way?”

“That’s the twentieth time you’ve asked. Have you been deceived your whole life?”

A monkey and a tattooed orc with six arms were walking along a quiet mountain path, grumbling.

“It feels like we’re going in circles…”

“This is the only way I know. Stop asking—you’re confusing me.”

Turankai was deliberately taking the long way to buy as much time as possible for his allies to regroup, while Caljarat, though suspicious, continued to follow his guidance.

Their uncomfortable journey, which had already lasted over ten days, was interrupted by earthquake-like footsteps that suddenly echoed after they crossed a treacherous ridge.

– BOOOOOM!

A thunderous sound like rocks tumbling down a mountainside. Dust pouring down like a waterfall. A massive shadow approaching like the night sky descending.

“Ha… what now? Damn it.”

Turankai growled a low curse.

He had to crane his neck all the way back before he could finally meet the eyes of the shadow’s owner.

“…A giant.”

Caljarat approached beside Turankai, gripping the handles of the weapons on his back.

A giant.

An ancient Ain race with rock-like skin and a dragon-like body. Powerful monsters capable of destroying mountains with pure strength.

“A six-armed orc demigod… I’ve heard of you. Caljarat was the name, wasn’t it?”

An ancient giant stood before their eyes.

“And a monkey wearing stone armor… what a pleasant coincidence.”

He wore a strange armor with thick metal tubes stuck between dragon scale-like metal plates.

“…I don’t recall doing anything to be greeted pleasantly by a giant.”

“I was told it was a group of rock-throwing monkeys that destroyed my fortress and slaughtered my subordinates. And now before my eyes stands a monkey in ‘stone armor.’ Would you claim this is mere coincidence?”

“…No way.”

Turankai swallowed hard. Something was dawning on him.

“I wondered what bold fools these might be… but to meet the culprits so quickly. What luck.”

The giant laughed deeply and heavily as he drew out the axe he carried on his back.

“Engrave my name in your memory before you die. I am Bergelmir. Father and master of trolls, ogres, and crude hybrids. Bergelmir, Father of Heresy!”

A massive killing intent pressed down upon the earth.