That Day, the Streets of the Capital Were Chilly.

The bustling crowds on the streets gave off a sound closer to anxious murmurs than liveliness. The autumn rain had drenched the moss-covered roads of the capital, and people hurried by, their footsteps echoing alongside the clatter of hooves and the creaking of carriage wheels. Amid these usual sounds, there was one that carried a distinctly different weight.

“...”

The sound stopped at the entrance of an alleyway leading to the back streets of the capital. The alleyways twisted and turned like a maze. Though it was still late afternoon, the thick shadows cast by the densely packed buildings made it as dark as midnight.

Underneath the black hooded cloak, a pair of golden eyes gleamed. The dark alley didn’t swallow him; instead, it breathed out a cold, ominous wind. The hooded man, Maxim, recalled the letter he had received recently.

 

Maxim couldn't help but let out a small chuckle as he entered the guild. The curious gazes from the adventurers, and even the receptionist, all fixated on him. There were looks of fear, terror, and even admiration.

Maxim ignored them and walked straight to the reception. The receptionist stared at him as if trying to figure him out. Maxim deliberately pretended not to notice.

"Hello."

He ignored the awkward greeting. Before Maxim could say anything, the receptionist hurriedly stopped him.

"This way."

Maxim followed the receptionist, who unexpectedly gestured for him to follow. He could feel other eyes on him as he ascended the stairs, this time tinged with jealousy.

"...The branch head wishes to speak with you."

The receptionist quickly added, as if trying to explain. Maxim, tilting his head slightly as if asking who had asked, remained expressionless. The receptionist sighed softly, as if they hadn't expected any response.

"Go ahead, the room is just up here."

With a curt remark, the receptionist swiftly descended the stairs. Maxim held a small grudge toward Nyra, who had made him so popular.

Maxim knocked on the door. He sensed someone inside.

"Come in."

The branch head's use of formal language raised a slight suspicion in Maxim’s mind as he entered. The first thing he saw upon entering the room was a large man busily scribbling something at his desk. As soon as the door opened, the branch head stopped writing and looked up at Maxim.

"I’ve been expecting you."

Was the branch head always this formal? Maxim, still curious, simply nodded and took a seat as instructed. The branch head, after seating him, rummaged through his desk drawers and pulled out an envelope.

"A request came in specifically for you."

Just as Nyra had warned him, it seemed that someone had been watching him closely.

"Of course, you’re free to accept or decline the request, but the person who brought it seemed confident that you’d accept."

The branch head handed the letter to Maxim.

"The client wanted this delivered to you."

Maxim took the envelope. It had no distinguishing marks, just a stiffly folded letter waiting to be opened. Without hesitation, Maxim tore it open. The branch head's face stiffened as he saw Maxim casually rip the envelope.

To Maxim Apart.

The letter began. Nyra’s impersonation of him as an adventurer seemed to have worked.

I cannot be sure that you are truly Maxim Apart. However, all signs point to you being him, and we have decided to trust our judgment.

The capital was so easily taken that it was almost laughable.

Reading the account of the fall of the capital, Maxim knew this letter’s author wasn’t an ordinary noble.

During the Behemoth Subjugation, while the palace was left vacant, Leon Bening, with the cooperation of the 2nd Prince and the Magic Tower, surrounded the palace inside and out. Even the royal guards protecting the throne could do nothing more than defend His Majesty and his relatives.

But thanks to those royal guards, they’ve yet to cross the final line, and His Majesty has found a way to respond. We’ve been gathering even the smallest strength we can.

I know Leon Bening has been persistently tracking you. The Bening family tried to secretly dismantle the Apart barony to lure you out, but thanks to an unidentified individual’s help, Count Argon and the frontier lords managed to stop them. Your family, including your fiancée, is safe. They are currently in the eastern region, where Bening’s influence hasn’t fully reached.

Maxim sighed deeply in relief. That unidentified individual must have been Nyra, acting on his behalf. Although he trusted his master’s words, having confirmation put him at ease. Yet he also realized that this meant his family was now hostages of sorts.

Please do not blame them. Both families are overwhelmed with the efforts of rebuilding after the war, and they live in constant fear of when Leon Bening’s grasp will reach them. The frontier lord still holds nothing but guilt toward you.

If you still have the will to resist them, I hope you will come to us when you’re ready.

At the bottom of the letter was the seal of the Royal Guard. Alongside it was a simple map of the back alleys of the capital, pointing to a tavern hidden deep within. Maxim committed the map to memory.

He crumpled the letter and threw it into the fireplace in the branch head's office. Only after watching the letter burn did the branch head’s face relax.

"Whether you’ll accept the request… I suppose it’s pointless to ask."

"I’ll take it."

"What?"

Maxim spoke for the first time. The branch head, dumbfounded by finally hearing Maxim’s voice, stared at him. Maxim didn’t bother repeating himself, silently directing his gaze at the branch head. The branch head could feel those invisible eyes boring into him.

"...Understood."

Maxim slowly stood. The branch head followed him with his eyes, hoping to catch a glimpse of the face beneath the hood, but only the shadow of a faint smile could be seen.

"If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask for assistance."

"...If that’s the guild's stance."

Maxim's question about whether the guild would truly stand against the Bening family was answered with a subtle nod from the branch head.

Indeed.

With that answer, Maxim gave a calm nod and left the room.

 

“A lily, of all things.”

It was bold, using the royal family’s symbol as the name of a tavern. The back alleys of the capital were deep and full of foreboding. The shouts, curses, and sounds of something crashing and breaking echoed continuously.

Of course, no one dared to touch the tall man walking slowly with a longsword at his waist, so Maxim could proceed without much trouble.

"Hey, who is that guy?" "An adventurer?" "Could the military have sent someone?"

They murmured among themselves, speculating about Maxim’s identity, but as soon as he turned his head toward the source of the whispers, the crowds scattered.

"Just look at that guy." "Don't make eye contact. You know nobody gives a damn if you get killed here, right?" "Look at the way he's walking. That’s not someone who’s here for the first time."

Maxim was simply following the map exactly, but the people of the alleyways seemed eager to concoct their own explanations for his presence.

At the intersection, where laundry lines crisscrossed overhead, Maxim took a downhill path. As soon as he started down the slope, eyes began following him. From every corner of the alley, eyes tracked his steps—surveillance. Maxim didn’t like the attention.

But as soon as he steadied his aura, those gazes began to disappear, one by one.

The pommel of his sword felt cold. Maxim’s palm carefully grasped the handle. His footsteps stopped just a few paces from the entrance of the tavern known as the "Lily."

Swordsmen appeared from the shadows of the alleyway. Two came from the direction Maxim was headed, while one blocked his retreat.

There was no need for words. The sharp intent radiating from the swords they unsheathed spoke for them.

A sword strike came at him from behind. Maxim ducked to avoid it, and almost simultaneously, two more attacks came from the front.

Clang!

The longsword Maxim had drawn in the blink of an eye parried the two front attacks, scattering fiery sparks.

The swordsmen in front shifted their tactics, moving more cautiously. They blocked Maxim’s path forward, trying to make it easier for the swordsman behind him to strike. Maxim adjusted his stance, keeping both the front and rear attackers in check.

A sword came down from above. He couldn’t turn his back. Dodging to the side would corner him, but charging forward was met with solid defense. Maxim leapt backward.

“Ugh!”

The swordsman behind him, caught off guard by the unexpected move, had the wind knocked out of him. Stumbling backward, he left an opening that the two swordsmen in front quickly covered.

“Here!”

A brief shout to distract him. Maxim played along, raising his sword to block the strike aimed at his legs while deflecting the delayed overhead slash. The clash of blades rang out loudly.

“Strength…!”

One of the swordsmen snarled, his lips curling. He put more power into his strike, but supporting the weight of a blade descending from above was too difficult from his low ground position.

“Urgh!”

Unable to withstand the force of Maxim’s sword, the swordsman faltered. The swordsman behind him quickly lunged again, and the one in front responded as well. A full-fledged swordfight ensued, with four sharp clashes of steel in the blink of an eye. The swordsmen were starting to lose control over Maxim’s relentless attacks.

"Tsk."

One of the swordsmen clicked his tongue. The narrow alleyway was too tight for four trained fighters to swing their swords freely. That worked to Maxim’s advantage and was a huge drawback for the three who were trying to work together. If the fight devolved into chaos, their numbers would become a liability, something Maxim could exploit.

“Mobility.”

With that short command, the swordsmen switched tactics.

The one in the lower position continued targeting Maxim’s legs, limiting his movements while the swordsman from behind aimed for his upper body.

But Maxim didn’t feel any sense of danger.

Their strikes weren’t aimed at vital points. The sword edges weren’t seeking lethal blows. They were deliberately holding back, and this half-hearted fighting was starting to irritate Maxim. If his opponents didn’t want to fight seriously, he would make them.

Boom!

Maxim unleashed a killing intent. The mana that now surged effortlessly through his body flared in his golden eyes. The swordsmen in front of him recoiled in fear, stepping back as the wind from the release of energy blew his hood back, revealing his face.

Maxim’s golden gaze locked onto the swordsmen.

Gulp.

They couldn’t even hide the sound of their nervous swallowing. The atmosphere thickened with deadly silence, filled with Maxim’s overwhelming aura.

"Testing me is fine, but…”

Maxim adjusted his grip on his sword.

“If you keep being this lukewarm, I’ll be quite disappointed.”

His voice was cold, and the sword in his hands looked just as menacing as he did. The swordsmen exchanged glances with each other. One of them sighed and stepped forward, offering an apology.

“…My apologies.”

The man spoke first. He was a young man, no more than five years older than Maxim.

“I apologize for underestimating you and for testing you unnecessarily. The royal family and the Royal Guard, in situations like these, tend to be overly cautious.”

The swordsman’s lighthearted tone didn’t change, but Maxim’s killing intent didn’t wane.

“Well, it seems you're just as cautious, aren’t you?”

“Of course.”

Maxim’s voice was sharp, but the swordsman nodded as if he understood.

“The test is… already over. To be honest, we knew we couldn’t handle you without unleashing our aura.”

Then, sweeping his cloak aside, the swordsman revealed the royal family’s insignia on his chest. The white lily shone brightly.

“I am Raphael Jung, of the First Royal Guard. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Maxim Apart.”

Maxim finally let out a breath and relaxed his killing intent. As he looked around, he noticed the chaos in the surrounding alley, a testament to the fight.

“I’m Maxim Apart, eldest son of the Apart barony. If it still stands, that is.”

“You don’t need to worry about that. It was all explained in the letter, wasn’t it? Now, if you’ll follow me, please.”

Raphael Jung seemed to be in a bit of a hurry. Maxim followed him down the stairs into the tavern. The other two swordsmen followed closely behind.

“This one has some skill. If only I were five years younger, I’d have some fun sparring.”

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tease me too much.”

“If that’s what you wanted, maybe you should have told me what to expect.”

The tavern wasn’t as small as it seemed from the outside. In fact, it resembled more of a small military command post than a drinking establishment.

"You've arrived."

The voice that greeted him.

Maxim recognized it immediately. And even before he could pinpoint the speaker, the knights walking in front and behind him knelt and bowed their heads. Maxim followed suit, lowering his head quickly, only to be stopped by the familiar voice.

"Stand, and raise your head. There’s no need for such formalities in this situation."

Maxim pushed aside the questions that were forming in his mind as he raised his head to meet the speaker.

Sitting before him was King Georges Loire II, watching them from his seat.