Commander of the Knights (2)
After finishing the training routine with Hella, I asked for some time.
I didn’t want to interfere with the knights’ training, which was almost like an extension of my sword, but I also wanted to observe them.
Perhaps because their liege lord, the count, was watching, the knights swung their swords with disciplined precision, their faces tense.
Of course, the training weapons they used weren’t ordinary swords and shields.
“Is this the Magic Knight Order?”
Whoosh—!
Every time a knight swung a sword, elemental attacks—fire, ice, lightning—followed the trajectory.
A shield deployed from the gauntlet on the opposite hand to block these attacks.
Both pieces of equipment were artifacts. Hanging from the knights’ waists were batteries powering the artifacts, emitting heat.
“What’s that?”
Lucis asked.
“They’re called artifacts. Items that help you use magic more easily.”
“Easily…?”
Lucis tilted his head, probably struggling to understand since using magic was as natural to a dragon as breathing.
“Skills, mana circuits, artifacts—these are the foundation of combat in this world.”
If combat were like an exam, skills would be the knowledge in your head, mana circuits the cheat sheet, and artifacts an open-book test.
Each has strengths and weaknesses, but used together, they complement one another. That’s why martial groups in this world made full use of mana circuits and artifacts.
Of course, for a dragon like Lucis, who could use magic perfectly without them, it was irrelevant.
“Hmph.”
Lucis, uninterested, turned away from the training and played with the magic particles floating in the air.
After the knights’ training routine was complete, Hella entered the shadowed corridor, having ordered her subordinates to rest.
She quickly received a towel from her attendant, wiped her neck, and spoke.
“Seymour.”
“Hella.”
We exchanged brief, respectful greetings.
Hella Mausoleum. Commander of the Black Dragon Knights.
I looked up at her with a satisfied smile.
“I designed her, but she’s really impressive.”
I had designed everyone from the Mausoleum family, and Hella was no exception.
The art director’s concept for Hella was simple:
“Female Barbarian.”
Fitting the concept, Hella’s personality, body, and skills were all rough and powerful.
As commander of the Mausoleum Knights, she had participated in countless battles, leading charges and returning with the heads of leaders.
How to describe her?
If it weren’t the Empire era but a period of warring kingdoms, she would have gone down in history as a great general.
If it were a zombie apocalypse, she would have survived as a leader of the survivors.
“Seymour is my favorite design, but Hella was the most fun to create.”
Seymour’s design had been rejected dozens of times, but Hella’s passed immediately.
“Phew…”
Hella handed the towel back to her attendant and asked me:
“What brings you here this morning? Came to supervise training?”
Her voice held no resentment toward me.
Hella had the Mausoleum bloodline in spades—proud, talented, indifferent to others.
“I came because we haven’t had a chance to talk about what happened between Richard and me.”
“Oh. Really, that’s why you came?”
Her expression said she thought my visit trivial.
“My father did act foolishly, but what does that have to do with me?”
I couldn’t help nodding; it was so Hella-like.
But others would not view such “Hella-ness” kindly.
“It doesn’t matter. But it’s only a matter between you and me.”
“Huh?”
“People will endlessly doubt you. Both those in the family and outsiders.”
“Hmm… well, that’s true.”
Hella touched her chin and smirked, as if thinking, “If I just cut down all the complainers, the complaints would disappear.”
A faint shiver ran down my back, so I proposed a solution.
“To quiet their complaints, you’ll need to take over my public and social duties for a while.”
“My public duties? How does that relate to this?”
“At the very least, it shows that I trust you and that you’re trying to regain trust.”
Hella gave me a reluctant look. For a born warrior like her, social duties would feel like exile.
“Social duties are a pain. Can’t I just raid monster camps or dungeons instead?”
“The succession ceremony ended yesterday, and it’s been less than four days since the underworld attack. You’re seriously suggesting the commander leave the capital now?”
“I know, just saying.”
Hella sighed deeply. I delivered the final point:
“If you don’t make a move, the next family meeting will propose cutting the knights’ budget. Without reason, even I can’t defend you.”
I wasn’t threatening; that’s just how the family operated.
The previous count’s death had focused attention on me briefly, but normally, cadet branches constantly jockeyed for power.
“Those conniving old folks…”
Hella cracked her knuckles while criticizing the cadet branches.
Hearing the cracking sound, I tightened my hold on Lucis.
“Using the knights as an excuse, Hella won’t refuse my proposal.”
Hella Mausoleum. Unlike her father, she valued muscle under the skin over superficial appearance.
She harbored no grudge against me for exiling Richard—not only because Richard deserved it, but because her loyalty to the family and the knights outweighed her feelings toward her father.
“The knights are proof she’s not wrong.”
Despite being born into a noble family, Hella’s life had never been easy.
How difficult must it have been to dedicate her life to the sword while being the daughter of a fashion industry magnate?
She had constantly clashed with her father, Richard, and like Seymour, had become disillusioned with him.
She had never lost outright to Richard due to her stubbornness.
“When she engraved permanent mana circuits under her eyes in defiance, Richard spent a week bedridden from stress.”
After Richard gave up, Hella trained harder than anyone, becoming deeply respected within the knights.
Even the meticulous previous count entrusted the commander role to a cadet branch rather than a direct heir.
“Loyalty to the family, training the knights, improving herself.”
Hella had little else on her mind. She attended the succession and even funeral ceremonies only in a guard capacity.
She refused her father’s requests and, even during his exile, focused solely on guarding and training.
“So I have to bring her onto my side.”
Hella was the most reliable ally within the Mausoleum family.
“Hmm…”
Hella touched her chin. Although she knew she had to follow my plan, having to pay for her father’s mistakes was understandably unpleasant.
So I offered one more proposal, to secure her loyalty:
“You don’t have to attend matchmaking events while handling public duties.”
“…!”
Hella froze. She was set up as a non-marriage type but had been dragged to such events twice a month by her father’s and the previous count’s orders.
“Really…?”
Despite being taller than me, her sparkling eyes made her look almost childlike and cute.
“If you’re too busy with public duties, the other cadet elders will understand.”
Hella extended her hand as if there was no need to think further.
“Alright, Lord. Leave the public and social duties to me.”
I shook her hand.
“Win-win.”
I no longer had to worry about tedious matters, and Hella could avoid unwanted obligations.
I shook my head at the calloused grip of her hand, and she raised an eyebrow:
“But do you really believe I’m loyal? Even with my father’s case?”
I smiled softly. I probably wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t designed Hella, possessed Seymour, or become Lucis’s guardian.
“You’re right, Richard did act foolishly. But a father’s sins aren’t the child’s.”
Hella looked at me, then at Lucis, smiling lightly.
“That’s true.”
She ruffled Lucis’s hair.
“Oh?”
Lucis’s eyes widened at the huge hand ruffling him.
“So this is my new, much-talked-about nephew?”
“Depending on how things go, I might be your great-aunt.”
“My half-sized little nephew as my aunt…?”
Hella pinched Lucis’s plump cheeks and said:
“Seymour, just one promise.”
“Say it.”
“Don’t tell me to wear dresses to social events.”
I chuckled softly at her serious expression.
“Don’t worry. I’ve already picked your outfit.”
“Really? What is it?”
I dusted the front of my jacket with my free hand.
“A sharp suit, just for you.”
“Oh-ho.”
Her lips curved in anticipation.
Three days later
Hella and I left the townhouse.
The pillars of the underworld.
I intended to meet them today, to invite them to the upcoming fashion business launch show.
“Even villains should dress well.”
After all, these were the underworld’s key figures, and I couldn’t bear to see them dressed like Nadiv in rags.
“It’s good for brand promotion too.”
No one pulls off suits better than dangerous, lethal men.
Today, they would realize this firsthand.
“Hella’s fashion will leave a lasting impression on them.”
Through Lux’s suits, Hella had become a complete, striking presence—almost violently impressive even to me.
