A full day had passed since the girl who called herself Miku Orunkaim vanished. The knight order had been searching for her ever since, but she had yet to be found.

Kilpus was staying at Lehan Knight Academy. He could no longer afford to move recklessly. Assassinations were most common during transit. There was no guarantee the girl wouldn’t attack on the way to the royal capital.

He had considered assigning Lili as his escort to the capital, but even then, preventing an assassination would be difficult. Execution is easy, prevention is hard. That is the nature of assassination.

Thus, Kilpus had summoned the Royal Guard from the capital. They would arrive the day after tomorrow. Until then, Lili was stationed outside the chairman’s office, standing guard through the night.

Lowering my voice so that Lili outside wouldn’t hear, I offered my counsel—to Kilpus.

“Father. You should avoid traveling until the girl is found. No matter how many dozens of Royal Guards surround you, it would mean nothing if a mage unleashed a grand spell.”

We were in the chairman’s office of Lehan Knight Academy.

Lili stood in the hallway outside, as she had been all along. I had come here under the pretense of unfinished business, keeping my relationship with Kilpus a secret from her.

Kilpus responded with a troubled expression.

“I cannot leave the throne vacant for long.”

“I understand that, but…”

“You need not concern yourself with me. More importantly, Eremi… you’ve become quite the man in just a few days.”

I shrugged.

Damn. Ever since our reunion, I had been speaking like Blythe.

It seemed I wasn’t as good at pretending as the others. My own clumsiness irritated me.

“Ah… Ahem, my apologies. Let me correct that.”

“No, leave it as it is.”

Kilpus pointed to his own mouth.

“I’m not talking about your speech. Your expression has changed. I meant to say you’ve grown sharper.”

“Huh.”

My cheeks were still plenty soft, though.

“I hear you borrowed Void’s power and severed a homunculus’s arm. Its outer skin boasts the hardness of steel armor. That was quite the feat.”

“Ah. Well, it’s not like I—nngh.”

Close call.

“I?”

“It didn’t go as smoothly as Instructor Ituka, that’s for sure.”

It was Oujin’s Empty Slash technique. Had I not seen it, I probably wouldn’t have pulled it off. In fact, even among full-fledged knights, how many in this kingdom could take down that monster?

If the Republic were to unilaterally break the ceasefire and mass-produce those creatures for the battlefield, the kingdom wouldn’t stand a chance.

Kilpus curled his lips into a smirk, his eyes narrowing.

“You’re using the wrong comparison. Lili Ituka stands alongside the Sword Saint Blythe as a War Maiden. Meanwhile, you are merely ten years old. There is no reason for despair. I am proud of you. Entrusting you to Ituka was the right decision.”

I see.

Because of Blythe’s lingering memories, my reincarnated age felt like a natural continuation. But in reality, it was almost a complete do-over—both my strength and reflexes. The only things I carried over were some knowledge and quick thinking.

“To think my child possessed such talent for the sword. I must admit, I am surprised. Do you suppose Leonel or Arland have it as well?”

“Who knows?”

Those two weaklings? Not a chance. They neither confronted strength nor acknowledged weakness—they simply looked down on everything. Growth was impossible for them.

I covered my thoughts with a wry smile, and Kilpus returned it with a bitter one of his own.

“It was something I never had. Blythe used to laugh at me for it.”

Now that he mentioned it, in my past life, Kilpus once asked me to teach him swordplay. He had picked up a wooden sword, eager to learn. But, well… his swings were abysmal. He gripped too tightly, preventing the blade from slicing cleanly. He couldn’t even cut through a bundle of straw properly, sending it flying instead.

I had told him he would be better off wielding a club. It would at least pack some force. He had worn the same bitter smile back then, just like now.

Perhaps he was recalling the same memory. He chuckled slightly before regaining his serious expression.

“So, what brings you here today? You wouldn’t risk exposing your identity just to amuse me.”

“…No.”

This was about Miku. Or rather, the mysterious “cat” calling herself Miku.

I lowered my head before Kilpus.

“I have a request, Father. Could you entrust her fate to me?”

She had targeted the king’s life. If she were caught in the kingdom, she would not escape execution.

Next time, Lili would not hold back. She would fight with her full strength from the start. In a direct confrontation between a swordswoman and an assassin, the assassin had no chance. If the girl hoped to defeat Lili, she would need to catch her off guard.

But Lili would never let her guard down again. Not anywhere, not even in sleep.

Sound. Scent. Temperature. Wind.

By remaining aware of all these, someone of her caliber would have no openings. The moment her identity was exposed, the girl’s fate was sealed. Encountering Lili meant death.

However, at the moment, Lili had to focus all her efforts on protecting Kilpus. That meant the only ones searching for the girl were the regular knights stationed in the academy city of Lehan.

On top of that, the roads around Lehan were now under lockdown by the knights. The girl was still somewhere in town—or at least hiding nearby.

Now was the only chance. While Lili was unable to move. The only window was the duration of Kilpus’s stay at the academy. Today and tomorrow.

If I found the girl first, then… what did I intend to do?

If I found her first, then what?

Would I help her escape? To the Republic?

I didn’t know. I didn’t know, but—I didn’t want her to die.

Kilpus’s once-cheerful voice dropped to a deep, solemn tone.

“Eremi, do you understand what you’re saying? I cannot grant such a thing simply because of a child’s selfish plea.”

A child’s selfish plea.

That was exactly right. Even Blythe would have refused such a foolish request.

I understood that.

But I wasn’t Blythe. I was Eremi, ten years old. My mind understood, but my heart couldn’t catch up.

Our gazes clashed.

In moments like these, Kilpus exuded an overwhelming presence—not that of a swordsman, but of a king.

My throat tightened. It was parched. But I forced my lips apart.

“…I will take responsibility…”

“And what can a ten-year-old do? Tell me.”

“If I determine it necessary… I will… cut her down myself.”