The "task" that the Counter-Intelligence agents tossed my way as if they were casually mentioning a dinner menu left me in a state of profound mental shock.
'As a result of our internal investigation, it has been revealed that Pietro de Medici, the mastermind behind the raid, had been in continuous contact with the Northern Puppet Government for several years.'
And then, as if they had all conspired to deliver a finishing blow to my reeling psyche, the Inquisitors had stormed into my lodgings right on their heels.
'His fragmented soul was stained by the whispers of malice. It seems he reached out and grasped the hand of temptation during his weakest moment. A great tragedy, indeed.'
Even after returning to headquarters from the Bartok Barony and resuming my daily routine, the homework they left behind continued to haunt me.
The Imperial Counter-Intelligence Department and the Holy Church's Office of the Inquisition. If anyone were to list groups you should avoid getting entangled with—regardless of your status or rank—these two would tie for first place. And yet, both were now actively requesting my "cooperation."
I thought I had resolved the Bartok raid quite cleanly and brilliantly, but instead, two massive burdens—each heavy enough to crush a man on its own—had been dropped onto my back.
"That son of a bitch is a nuisance even in death."
To make matters worse, both the agents and the Inquisitors seemed to subtly reproach me for killing Pietro, who had been a double-agent in a massive web of evil.
'Could you not have handled the matter with a bit more... delicacy?'
They didn't say it out loud, but members of both departments wore strangely identical expressions. It was a silent complaint: Why did you have to be so brutish? If I had kept him alive for interrogation, they might have secured clues to uproot two Great Evils threatening the Empire's order. They expressed deep regret that my actions had closed that door.
The only reason they didn't openly condemn me was likely because the merit I gained by suppressing the crisis just barely managed to cover my "mistake."
What excuse could I possibly give? By any measure, this was my fault for letting my temper take the lead instead of my reason and snuffing out his life. It's because I still haven't broken the habit of meeting everything with a frontal breakthrough. In wartime, victory was the absolute priority; crushing the enemy however I pleased was never an issue. But I shouldn't have done that this time.
'Oh, you foolish boy. Are you a human or a bear?'
If my Master knew about this, he'd probably hold me down and nag me for an hour. Or, given the gravity of the situation, word might have already reached his ears. If so...
'It seems you need a punishment for the first time in a while, my dear disciple.'
The mere thought was terrifying. I had barely escaped the clutches of that thousand-year-old monster; I could never let myself be caught again.
While my head was plagued by worries, my body moved mechanically through the daily schedule until, before I knew it, it was time to clock out.
—Knock, knock!
"Commander Wolfgang? It's Vice-Commander Agnes. May I enter?"
"Come in."
As I welcomed her for the evening report, a sweet scent wafted past my nose. It was her hair soap—a smell I was now familiar with, though it was stronger than usual today. Seeing her hair was still damp, she must have rinsed off immediately after her physical training. For some reason, that intoxicating scent made my mind wander again.
"Commander?"
How wonderful would it be if I could solve everything with martial power alone? If I were ordered to face ten variant Ogres simultaneously, I would perform the task with a smile. Was I, as a human, this useless in situations that couldn't be broken through with strength? I felt a heavy sense of helplessness I had never experienced on the battlefield.
If I get any more stressed, it's going to be a problem...
If this were the battlefield, I'd be smashing enemy skulls to vent my frustration instead of overthinking. It's ironic that I can't do that in this peaceful era. Then again, when a former Commander and son of a noble house turned out to be a traitor (or something worse), can I really call this era "peaceful"?
"Commander, are you alright?"
My subordinate was right in front of me; I shouldn't show such weakness. I slowly raised my head from my clasped hands to look at her. She couldn't solve my problems, but I could at least hope for some advice from her wisdom.
However.
"I'm glad you're here. I actually have something I'd like to consult with you about, so please sit..."
Dammit. I had to face the unbelievable sight of my Vice-Commander—usually a source of comfort—transforming into a brand-new headache.
"What... is that scandalous outfit?"
"Ah, this is the new uniform I mentioned before! According to the tailor's letter, it uses a newly invented locking mechanism. It's certainly more convenient than buttons."
I'm already having a hard time—why is she doing this to me too?
"Since it's a gift from you, I wanted to show it to you first. How do I look?"
"Never mind how you look! I can see your skin and underwear through the gap in your shirt. Close that front immediately."
What should I even call that garment? It was clearly the Black Lion uniform I knew—black jacket with simple patterns, white belt, standard trousers. But where buttons should have been, there were long metal strips with dull teeth. Since the jacket was wide open, her thin shirt and the bright red lingerie beneath it were perfectly visible.
Do women naturally prefer such flashy underwear? Or was this just her secret taste? No, more importantly...
First the Princess, now Agnes. Why do the women around me constantly plunge me into agonizing temptation? Both were eye-widening beauties, and my patience was reaching its limit. But I had to endure. I am not a beast driven by lust. If I act on instinct, there is no turning back. I would be no different from that pathetic Pietro or that man I call my father. I must not.
And yet... it was so hard to resist. Perhaps because my mental state was unstable, my pent-up desires were shaking me even more violently.
"Are you going to keep standing like that?"
I muttered, trying to act nonchalant while suppressing my dark urges. Agnes, looking pointlessly cheerful, began to show off her new clothes like a child.
"Of course not. This new fastener is truly amazing. Look."
She aligned the two metal strips, grabbed a small golden handle, and pulled it up. In an instant, the jacket was sealed.
"Haha..."
"It's much more convenient than buttons, and my chest doesn't feel tight anymore. It's all thanks to you, Commander. Thank you so much."
At first, I wanted to get angry, thinking she was mocking her superior. But seeing her radiant, innocent smile, that anger evaporated. She was so genuinely happy over a small gift I had given her. How could I be annoyed? How could I harbor foul desires toward such purity?
"It is quite fascinating. I'm glad you're satisfied."
"Thank you! By the way, didn't you say you had something to consult me about?"
Forget it. Consult what? I just needed to go home. If I stayed in this room with her sweet scent any longer, I felt like I might actually do something. I gave her the most benevolent smile I could muster.
"It's nothing. More importantly, has anything happened with the unit?"
"No, sir. If anything, the knights are training harder than ever, inspired by your prowess."
"That's good to hear. If there's nothing else, you can skip the minor reports. You should head home too."
"Yes, Commander! See you tomorrow!"
"Heading home" truly was a magical phrase. Watching her walk out with a light step, I decided to return to my mansion immediately. I was tired—not physically, but mentally. Come to think of it, I need to get new armor made, but I don't know when I'll have the time. There were too many things to worry about lately.
Hoping to find peace of mind, I returned to my manor as fast as possible, only to be met by my old butler wearing a gentle, knowing smile. He usually never showed emotion. Did something good happen? Maybe a grandchild was born. He was a blunt man, but he had a family. If so, I should give him a vacation. He's earned it.
"You look well today. Is there something to celebrate?"
I asked, ready to offer my congratulations, but the answer was entirely unexpected.
"It could be called a celebration, I suppose. Your lover, a charming lady, is waiting for you in the drawing room. Please, go inside."
"What?"
"I see you are a man in his prime after all, Master. This old man is deeply moved."
Being pushed toward the drawing room, I felt more tension in my own home than ever before.
'Something suspicious is definitely going on.'
A lover? I wasn't seeing anyone seriously enough to be called that. And seeing the blunt butler acting like a different person, I worried the woman who came to my house might have done something sinister to the poor old man.
—Bang!
I threw the door open, ready for combat. In the drawing room, a suspicious woman sat primly, sipping tea. Ordinary blonde hair, a moderately pretty face, a flat figure, and unremarkable clothes. I didn't know this woman.
For someone claiming to be my lover, she was the exact opposite of my type. And yet she dared to invade my home and mess with my staff? Unforgivable.
Rage bubbled up, but I couldn't let my aura flare. Letting emotions ruin things once was enough; I needed to hear her out first. Besides, my mental state was already unstable; if I lost my temper, something irreversible might happen. I suppressed my feelings and interrogated her in the calmest tone possible.
"Who are you? What did you do to my butler?"
"Oh my, Sir Wolfgang. You've finally returned? I've been waiting for... a long time."
But the elegant voice ringing out from the woman sounded inexplicably familiar.
—Snap!
The woman gave a seductive smile and snapped her fingers. Her appearance shimmered and transformed instantly into the most beautiful woman I knew.
"I told you to look forward to it, didn't I?"
A woman in a jet-black evening dress, flaunting dazzling silver hair and an incredibly alluring figure. The Princess of the Empire, Alicia von Diana Solaris.
Why was she at my house?
"Hmph! But why did you come home so late? Well, the night is still young, so I suppose it doesn't matter."
Today, the Princess's ice-blue eyes were gleaming with an even more meaningful light.