Demonas - Chapter 12

She was blindly loyal to her Lord after having lost both her parents. Yet strangely, she lacked any lingering emotions.

No matter how hellish the battlefield was, the soldiers would endure it all by painting the images of their families and homes in their minds.

Someone to protect. That was something she did not have.

She had lost her family. So what should she paint in a place where her family’s survival was at risk?

Instead, she simply filled the void left behind with the Lord to give her a reason to survive.

Is this the result of being hypocritical? Her life had eventually ended on a guillotine, stigmatised as a witch. The kind of disgrace that will go down in history.

Chernobog’s name was permanently erased from the genealogy of the Imperial Aristocracy when she was captured as a witch.

However, to bring down the hero of the country, she needed to confess to having been deceived by the devil by all means possible.

So they tortured her.

She tried to kill herself but she could not. The gag tied at her mouth prevented her from doing so.

There was a time where she was forced to undergo constant torture did she almost run out of breath.

Instantly, she was brought to the bedroom to receive extensive treatment.

After mobilising a priest and a wizard to restore Altair’s body, the Emperor called for an audience with her.

Altair, who walked into the throne room, stood extremely still, not daring to move another muscle.

But he did not even glance her way.

She looked as if she had lost all her motivation and drive to live and only hand the skin on her bones left.

When the captain of the guard tried to push her down into a kneeling position, the emperor shook his hand in a carefree manner almost as if he did not care and opened his mouth.

[ The devil has been invading the capital. If you join hands with the Empire, I will bring down the Duchy and reinstate you. ]

Silence.

[ I’ll wipe away the stigma of you being a witch.]

Silence.

The emperor sighed and said, putting his chin on the armrest.

[ …Please reinstate the removed Chernobog family and restore it to its former glory. ]

Altair remarked to his comment.

What is the point in reviving the family now that the empire is on the verge of collapse?

It would be normal to think in such a manner, but her life had instead been trapped in the past for a long time.

Chernobog’s glory. Her father and mother’s name. The name she had inherited from them.

The only lingering regret in the world.

[ I’ll go. ]

The emperor watched Altair’s back, who had just spoken briefly and turned around, without expression.

***

On the second day, Altair greeted her father awkwardly as she climbed into a carriage bound for the imperial family.

“Well, I’ll be on my way back soon.”

“…Yes, be careful on your way home.”

It was only yesterday when she, who had a severe argument over Ahin’s problems and a nightmare last night, dug into her father’s arms.

It was the day after when they both woke up, neither the daughter nor her father knew how to treat each other.

When will such awkwardness between themselves be resolved?

After sighing, she got into the carriage and the horsemen began to whip.

She looked at the landscape outside, her mind swimming with complex emotions as she recalled the person she was soon-to-be meeting, Teran La Cresche.

The worst memories of Prince Teran La Cresche is of when he’s the Crown Prince, but he was different as a student.

Priscilla La Cresche, the 7th Royal Princess.

With her unique loveliness, she was the only one who loved not only the royal family but also the whole empire. At the same time, she also had the resistance of only settling for the benefits of such a position.

When war broke out in the empire, she studied magic with the intention of contributing to the empire. After her constant perseverance, she was able to achieve recognisable and sizable achievements in the Magic Society.

When Priscilla decided to participate in the war, everyone thought that the noble lady would go to the Southern front.

After all, her brother, the Emperor, was the one in command there. In addition to Gehen, it was relatively safer than the Northern Front, which even had to deal with the demons.

So, when she came to the Northern Front instead, Altair was rather embarrassed.

[ I am Priscilla La Cresche. I hope to be transferred to the Mage unit. Please… do not let His Majesty find out. ]

Afraid and concerned about the Emperor’s wrath, Altair quickly sent her back.

However, it was only a week after, when she found her laughing as she carried supplies whilst hiding in a wagon did she give in and finally accepted her presence.

Despite everyone’s worries, Priscilla fulfilled her role brilliantly.

The silver-white magician. Soon, that was what she was called as she established herself as a symbol of the Northern Empire and a living hope.

After she participated in the war, like a lie, successive reports were made, declaring that peace would eventually come.

Then, during a cold winter, countless imperial soldiers were killed by the black magic of demon contractors who had appeared suddenly in huge numbers.

Was she trying to fulfill her purpose as their “hope” despite it being a devastating situation?

The following spring, Priscilla entered headquarters with a proposal in mind.

[ It’s an ‘umbrella’ specialised in shielding against black magic. Please permit me to deploy it on the front lines. ]

Altair objected. The magical development in itself took a long time and there was not enough experimentation done on it to put it to practice.

It was as if she were gambling with her life as collateral.

But she was unyielding.

[ Are there any other ways? There’s hope for us as long as we can stop the artillery attacks. Please trust me. ]

After her repeated pleas and persuasion, Altair cracked and gave in.

A few months later, amidst the whirlwind of snow, there was a field.

On the particularly disastrous battlefield, she had eventually died while her ‘umbrella’ was in the midst of development.

Her whole body was quickly engulfed in blue flame as she continued to struggle painfully.

‘If this could be reversed as well…’

Hasn’t Priscilla, who has constantly expressed and spoke of hope in the long war, once saved even herself?

Soon after, the carriage slowed to a stop as it entered the palace.

Past the long road was a huge golden palace surrounded by trees that made up the garden.

‘For now, getting past the Prince’s interrogation will have to be my top priority.’

Thud. Finally, Altair closed the window. Taking one last glance at the familiar landscape.

***

The vast space was decorated with colourful gold leaf wallpaper in which several oil paintings of varying sizes were hung.

A cool breeze blew between the arched windows overlooking the garden, fluttering the translucent curtains.

On the small blue sofa by the window, a silver-haired girl with her hands on a soft armrest cushion and her upper body sticking out, half stretching.

“Priscilla, be careful in case you fall!”

“Stop! It’s been a long time! I’m just curious!”

Altair, who quietly glanced at her with intrigued eyes, gently lowering herself at one of her knees and greeted them.

“An honour to meet Your Highness, the Crown Prince, and Her Highness, the Seventh Princess.”

“You aren’t going to have a knight salute today, are you?”

She replied with a small smile at the words of the prince who had jokingly answered with a wide smile.

“Well, that’s because this is the reception room.”

“Right, this is the reception room. So, come here and sit next to your cousin.”

“On this sofa!”

The little princess who had jumped up from where she was sitting said triumphantly, hitting the cushion on the sofa next to her.

Altair bowed briefly as a sign of gratitude before she sat down.

Soon after, a couple of maids came with black tea that seemed to give off a scarlet glow, which they gave to her. Teran said in a voice, still smiling.

“How did it get so complicated? No, I’m not the only one who has changed.”

“I’m the successor of Chernobog, and so, I thought it would finally be time for me to complete my courses.”

Altair answered calmly after taking a sip of tea.

“A swordmaster who graduates when they’re still but a child. And one who’s the disciple of Count Estarrot… As you know, he’s such a reserved person that he never accepts anyone as his disciple…”

“Is that so?”

“And yet, you’ve managed to pique my interest. Aren’t you that little cousin who was amazed upon looking at me just half a year ago?”

“Looking back, I think the sword was the trigger for me. As I practised, I wondered if I could one day be able to receive such a wonderful sword.”

She glossed over the topic quickly, hoping he would not realise.

Of course, her cousin did not seem to believe her at all.

Faced with his penetrating gaze, she continued to sip her tea, maintaining a calm and casual face.

“…Hey. Isn’t it a good thing since it’s a good thing that happened?”

Priscilla burst out, opening her mouth once the two stopped talking.

“Altair had always wanted to be a knight.”

“Well, of course.”

Altair, who sought to reaffirm her childhood dreams, stuttered out. Teran appeared to be disappointed at how he could not question her any longer.

With a low sigh, he lifted himself up from where he was sitting on the sofa and sat upright.

“Alright. I won’t push for any more answers on how my cousin had ended up becoming the youngest swordmaster. If you would like, you can even spread false rumours around in court. Well, there should be a better word to substitute for what I’m trying to say…”

As soon as Altair’s eyes, which contained an endless depth of suspicions, turned to meet his, he spoke in a serious tone.

“Why don’t you become Priscilla’s knight?”

Altair, who was stirring the teacup gently, was so surprised upon hearing his words that after he was done speaking, she hiccuped.

The prince continued with his words without any regard for her.

“A knight is given the opportunity to swear allegiance to a single person in the royal family in his lifetime. I would like you to be Priscilla’s knight and protect her as if she were your biological sister.

After all, my cousin is Chernobog’s next patriarch and also the youngest swordmaster to ever be seen. One who will surely be a big shot and surpass the Count once he grows up. It’s no wonder your dream was to always become a knight.

If you do this favour for me, I promise you that not even a dog’s teeth with be directed at you, my cousin, as long as I’m alive.”

The promise he pledged to make may well be referring to Estarrot’s Arsene.

The promise to make sure that he shall never point his teeth against ‘her’.

“Is that the only promise you have for me?”

“Yes. As for your father, there are large numbers of problems intertwined with the previous generation. It will be hard to extend such promises to him as it will be hard to guarantee I’ll stay true to it. Considering how I am unable to go against the will of the poor.”

She thought to herself as she saw the prince wearing such a sad expression. Is this really the next emperor, who is trying to separate my father from me by using his sister, Priscilla, as an excuse?

Maybe what he is doing now is the same as what he did in my previous life.

He sighed deeply once again, noting how the daylight was now slowly fading away.

“I don’t want you to get the wrong impression of me. I’m also not asking you to jump onto the same boat as me. I’m just trying to make sure that there’s insurance just in case.”

“If you’re speaking of taking extra precautions, are you saying to prepare for the future should Chernobog spark a rebellion?”

“Do not cross the line, Altair Chernobog.”

At the same time as he warned her, the exclusive Imperial Knights for the Imperial Family, who were waiting a little distance away, placed their hands on their swords, getting ready to step in should an order be issued.

Altair immediately rose from her seat and bowed her head with one knee on the ground.

“Please forgive me. I’ve made a mistake.”

He looked down at her lowered head coldly for a while.

Priscilla, who could not stand the thick air surrounding the room, walked towards him and tugged at his sleeve. It was not long before his face softened. Putting a hand on the armrest of his seat, he said.

“…How hot-tempered you are, my cousin. You can get up.”

“Thank you.”

“Altair, you don’t have to be my knight if you don’t want to do it…”

Altair replied, upon hearing Priscilla’s words. Words Priscilla had muttered as if she were already a dead man as her silver-white eyelashes lowered.

“It’s not like that, so you can relax. Your Highness Teran, could you grant me some time to process and make a decision?”

“Yes, choosing a lord to give your allegiance to is not a simple matter that can easily be decided. Take your time to think about it and come to me once you’ve reached a decision.”

“Thank you for your kindness.”

Once their conversation had paused for a moment, Priscilla, who was squatting on the sofa, whispered.

“Is that what happens when you become a knight? You look like a real knight, Altair.”

“Of course, I’m a knight after all…”

As they spoke, she realised that she has yet to address them formally.

She had conversed with Teran about the topic of being the knight of the royal family in such a casual manner that she had forgotten.

“I’m planning to be… I’m planning to learn and master the art of chivalry.”

“I see… Well, you know what? I’ll learn swordsmanship as well, so why don’t we go against each other next time?”

“Well, Your Highness… It’s…”