The entrance to the underground prison of Count Agon's mansion.

In the middle of the stone floor in the mansion's basement, a wooden door revealed the entrance to Myura, the underground prison of the lord's estate. A chilling draft seeped up through the gaps in the iron bars firmly blocking the entrance.

"You're keeping watch properly, right?"

"Yes, we're ensuring there’s no way anyone can escape."

Though I doubt they’d have the means or strength to try. The soldier added quietly, his brass keyring jingling in his hand.

The underground prison, which had long been shrouded in dust and the smell of mold due to infrequent use, was finally opened once more. The soldier, holding a brass lantern and guiding the count, had a tense expression. Behind him, Count Agon’s face was unusually rigid.

What could the person responsible for turning the count's normally benevolent expression into this have done?

Curiosity briefly flickered within the soldier, but he quickly brushed it aside, unnerved by the presence of a mysterious man standing silently beside the count, watching him intently. Though the man's face was hidden under a hood, the soldier was certain that his gaze was fixed on him.

"What kind of piercing gaze is that?"

The soldier shuddered inwardly as Count Agon’s hardened voice ordered,

"Open it."

The soldier composed himself and fumbled with the keyring. He found a long key that looked oversized for the door it unlocked. After a series of clinks, the iron bars creaked open.

"Hand me the keys."

With a concerned glance, the soldier handed the keyring to the count. After glancing around nervously, he passed the lantern to the man behind him. The man took it without a word and led the way down into the prison.

"You may leave now."

"...Are you sure that’s wise?"

The soldier asked, worry evident in his voice. The count nodded. His grim expression conveyed more than words.

"It’s fine."

"Please, call on us if anything happens."

The soldier urged as he left the basement. Count Agon looked down into the dim underground prison, where the brass light flickered softly. Maxim, a knight of the Royal Guard, stood halfway down the stairs, waiting for the count to descend.

"Sorry to keep you waiting."

"It’s no problem."

Maxim held the lantern to illuminate the steps. The spiral staircase leading down into the underground prison twisted deeply, its end hidden in darkness. The count glanced down into the abyss, his eyes flickering with a warning as he addressed the knight.

"You’ll need to explain this properly."

The church’s bell tower was damaged, the roofs of buildings throughout the marketplace bore signs of destruction, and the streets were stained with blood. Irina’s escort had been carried away, bleeding from the head, and a guest had almost been abducted.

And this happened right under his nose, not while he was away. Count Agon’s eyes burned quietly with fury.

"You'll soon find out."

Maxim replied, his voice steady. The darkness deepened. Most of the wall-mounted lamps had lost their light, and the few that remained flickered precariously. The air grew colder and damper, and finally, the spiral stairs ended, opening into a wide chamber.

The center of the chamber held a door roughly twice the height of an average man, guarded by soldiers on either side. The count led the way to the door, his footsteps echoing loudly in the cavernous space.

"Count."

The two soldiers guarding the door to the prison corridor saluted as Count Agon approached. He waved off the salute.

"The prisoner?"

"He’s barely hanging on. Two more are watching him inside."

One of the soldiers gestured towards the door leading to the prison cells.

"I don’t know who did it, but they’ve been sliced up just enough to stay alive. The medic was appalled by the sight. Even the knight who brought the prisoner here was impressed by the swordsmanship."

At this, Count Agon glanced at the knight—Maxim—beside him, who remained unfazed, as if it was none of his concern.

"...I see. Will you open the door?"

At the count’s command, the soldiers stepped aside and unlocked the door. The ungreased metal hinges groaned, scraping like brass directly on the ears, causing the soldier unlocking the door to wince.

The heavy iron door slowly slid open. The thin air of the underground prison was so thick with darkness that even torches were useless. The dim lantern light threw trembling shadows as the count and Maxim walked down the corridor lined with iron bars until they reached the cell holding the spy. The soldiers, who had been glaring daggers at the prisoner, stepped back as the count approached.

"Just as they said."

Count Agon clicked his tongue, seeing the prisoner slumped with his hands chained.

"I see what they meant by ‘on the brink of death.’"

The prisoner’s arms and legs appeared to be useless, as if all tendons and muscles had been severed. Although wrapped in bandages, blood still seeped through, staining the air with a thick scent of iron amidst the moldy smell of the prison.

"Will you explain, or would you prefer to show through interrogation?"

The count turned to Maxim and asked.

"Why not both?"

"...Do as you please."

Count Agon instructed the soldiers to open the bars. The same grating noise echoed as the gate opened, and the prisoner, who had been slumped forward, lifted his head.

"Hngh... For what reason has the count come to such a place...?"

The prisoner, trying to maintain a relaxed attitude in front of the count, suddenly faltered when he noticed the man standing beside him.

"You...! You scum...!"

Was it anger, or fear? As Maxim stepped closer, the prisoner struggled, attempting to move his immobile limbs, indicating it was likely the latter.

"You had the audacity to do such a thing."

"So, the count is in league with you...! This is nonsense...! I’ve never heard that Count Agon was harboring a monster like you!"

"Think whatever you like."

As Maxim drew closer, all traces of defiance vanished from the prisoner’s face, replaced by pure terror. Count Agon gave a small, derisive snort at the dramatic shift.

Thwack.

Without hesitation, the knight grabbed the prisoner by the hair, forcing him to look up, his eyes trembling as he faced the count.

"What was Leon Benning planning when he sent your lot here?"

The prisoner’s jaw trembled. The count’s gaze gleamed as if memorizing every word of the interrogation.

"You think I’m just going to tell you? It may have been easy to capture me, but..."

The spy's words trailed off. Count Agon shook his head, exasperated, and the knight shot him a questioning glance.

The spy, struggling to understand what mistake he had made, heard the answer from the count before he could reach it himself.

"Sending idiots like you as spies—how much must Count Leon Benning underestimate our territory and me?"

"He’s not necessarily an idiot. He’s just so paralyzed with fear that he’s turned foolish."

Realizing that he had essentially confessed to being sent by Benning, the spy’s face fell. Meanwhile, Count Agon’s expression burned with a renewed intensity of anger.

"I’ve heard enough. I almost regret keeping him alive. My mistake for doubting you even a little."

"There’s no need to apologize. If anything, this happening has allowed me to earn your trust, which is fortunate."

Count Agon’s gaze shifted back to the spy, then to Maxim, who was absentmindedly touching the pommel of his sword.

"I’ve made up my mind. We should deal with him here and now, to prevent any future troubles."

"Considering how openly Benning has picked a fight, I agree. There’s no point in letting him live."

The scales of life and death tipped decisively, and the spy, now frantic, began to babble.

"Wait, wait…! I could still be of use. Count Leon Benning has placed spies here in Myura, in no man’s land. I could disrupt their information network from within."

"The rest of your fellow spies are dead, leaving only you alive. What use could you possibly be?"

Maxim drew his sword from its sheath. The prisoner flailed, attempting to move any part of his body that could still respond, but his struggle ceased the moment the blade rested on his shoulder.

"You think you’ll walk away unscathed after this…?"

Before the prisoner could finish his sentence, the blade sliced through his neck. Blood gushed like a waterfall, spilling onto the floor. The sound of air escaping through the severed neck sent droplets of blood splattering.

"If their plan had succeeded, we’d be in a lot of trouble."

The count looked down at the lifeless body.

"If the honored guest had been abducted, and Leon Benning's shadow had crept into the territory, I would have blamed the adventurers’ guild, unaware that Benning was behind it all."

With a bitter tone, the count revealed the truth plainly.

"Thank you. You’ve saved me once again."

"It’s thanks to His Majesty’s foresight for sending me here. What I did was no great feat."

Maxim maintained his dignified composure, befitting a knight of the Royal Guard. The count looked at him with admiration.

"I simply fulfilled my duty if your resolve has been strengthened by this event."

"We can discuss the details back at my mansion."

Count Agon turned and exited the underground prison. The sticky smell of blood clung to his skin. The soldiers, determinedly watching the count and the hooded knight exit through the bars, swallowed nervously.

"…What should we do with the body?"

Count Agon replied with a voice as cold as ice.

"Throw it to the beasts."

By nightfall, the chaos that had erupted in the territory during the afternoon seemed to have settled. Since most of the bloodshed had occurred out of the public eye, the broken church bell tower had become the main topic of conversation.

Without the bell that marked the passing of each hour, the night streets were quieter. Count Agon welcomed Maxim into his office, his face still weary. Maxim, now without his hood, had reverted to his disguise as Arsène Vern, with black hair, dark eyes, and a scar crossing his nose.

"I apologize for the damage done to the town."

Maxim began with an apology, but Count Agon shook his head.

"...No compensation will be requested."

A heavy sigh escaped him.

"I haven’t forgotten the resources His Majesty generously provided to rebuild the territory at a low cost. Besides, Sir Arsène, considering what you’ve done for this territory and for me, a few broken roofs and bell towers are a small price to pay."

"Thank you for your kindness."

"There’s no need for thanks... You should have seen my wife’s reaction when she heard the news."

Count Agon still felt the aftermath of explaining the events to his wife. He was grateful to Marion for the life she had brought to the territory and the mansion, but Irina cherished Marion almost like a daughter.

"…Kidnapped?"

As a result, Irina's fury had been something Count Agon had to bear alone. The matter had been resolved, and Marion lay resting, yet Irina wanted to vent her wrath on the one responsible.

"Leon Benning, that arrogant snake…!"

Irina, using language Count Agon hadn’t heard in ages, vented her anger at Leon Benning, supporting her husband’s decision to align with the Royal Family against Benning more passionately than he did.

"You made the right decision. How dare he lay a hand on that child...?"

Irina Agon was ready to wield an invisible blade against him. The Count had only escaped her wrath by using his duties as an excuse, and now he shared this with Maxim with a wry smile, as if complaining. Maxim, listening to the woes of a husband, furrowed his brow slightly.

The count caught sight of Maxim’s expression and cleared his throat, straightening his posture.

"Forgive me. I digress."

"It’s alright."

"As you’ve heard, I’ll be supporting Her Highness, the First Princess, following His Majesty’s plan. The sooner, the better."

"Yes, indeed."

Count Agon’s eyes sparkled.

"Therefore, to prevent you from wasting too much time in the East, I’ll head to the no man’s land myself to meet the Border Marquis."

"...You’ll go personally?"

Maxim asked, surprised, but Count Agon merely smiled.

"The Border Marquis is a stubborn warrior. You might be able to persuade him, but if I go and explain things myself, it will save time."

"Are you certain? What about the territory…?"

"Don’t worry. The East will remain untouched by Benning for the time being, now that this attempt has failed. Instead, Benning will likely focus on central affairs, which is why you must hurry back to the capital."

A knight like you, at His Majesty’s side, would be of great assistance in the capital, the count murmured.

"Lastly, I’ll send someone ahead to the capital to ensure that neither the First Princess nor the First Prince’s forces are caught off guard by Benning's schemes."

"An excellent decision."

Maxim nodded in agreement.

"Acting ahead of schedule will catch them off guard, especially since they expect me to act with the merchants."

"Then, I’ll have the people and carriage prepared for your journey to the capital by tomorrow. You’ll travel together."

"I’ll see to it."

Maxim replied briefly, standing up. As he disappeared without a trace, the count looked at the empty spot where he had stood, muttering to himself.

"...I hope the sight of the entourage doesn’t startle him too much."

 

"…You’re as unpredictable as ever, right to the end."

Early in the morning, Maxim was at the inn, saying farewell to Pierre. Hearing that he had to leave early due to unforeseen circumstances, Pierre had initially fumed. However, after learning that Maxim had captured all the spies lurking among the merchants, he quickly quieted down, though his frown remained.

"Sorry about that."

"If you’re sorry, you shouldn’t pull stunts like this."

Pierre grumbled, extending his right hand nonetheless. Maxim chuckled, shaking Pierre's rough hand firmly.

"Thanks for catching those infiltrators. It’s no wonder we received such generous treatment from the territory afterward."

"With no risk of a knife in your back, you can go with peace of mind."

"Alright, alright, stop bragging."

Despite his words, Pierre cracked a small smile.

"If you ever need help in the capital, look for me at the guild. No matter what, I’ll help you once."

"Don’t forget that promise."

Maxim replied as he released Pierre’s hand. Seeing the sly smile under Maxim’s hood, Pierre realized he may have spoken too hastily.

"Well then, I’ll be off."

"When you’re done, stop by the guild again."

"If I can."

Leaving Pierre behind, Maxim strode off. The crisp autumn wind blew. This was only one success. Maxim steeled himself. It would take more time for this blade to reach Leon Benning's throat.

For that, he needed to return to the capital.

Maxim eyed the carriage before him. When he approached, the driver hurried down from his seat and greeted him.

"Ah, you’re here."

"...This isn’t exactly the welcome I expected."

Maxim murmured, as if to himself. The driver, smiling warmly, guided him to the carriage. It was a large merchant caravan, pulled by two sturdy horses.

"Please, step inside. The count wanted to apologize for not providing more comfortable transport due to the circumstances."

"No need."

Maxim replied briefly, lifting the curtain and stepping inside. He was soon taken aback by what he saw.

"Greetings."

Inside the caravan were a female knight he’d seen before, two men dressed as the count’s knights, and—

"You’re here?"

—Marion Bordain, wearing the black mask he’d given her.