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“In that case, there’s no need to worry. I’ll be escorting Her Holiness myself, so High Shrine Maiden, please look after the other shrine maidens,” Luke said immediately.

Daniel followed up, “Surely you wouldn’t say you don’t trust the arm of His Highness, the Ancient Dragon Knight, would you?”

The High Shrine Maiden must have realized that saying anything further would be disrespectful. She looked over at Luke, Daniel, the knights standing guard—and finally at Cestlavie, who was standing there lazily picking his ear.

“…Understood. Please take good care of the Shrine Maiden Princess, Your Highness. And you, Priest Cestlavie Lowe—protect the Princess with your life!”
“You can count on me,”
“Yeah, yeah. With my life and all that,”

In contrast to Luke who said with unwavering sincerity, C’estlavie muttered, flicking away his earwax.
The High Shrine Maiden’s brows twitched for a moment, but perhaps out of restraint before Luke, she only bowed silently and withdrew.

“Phew… Now we can move freely,” I said, stretching lightly.

“Still, the rubble hasn’t been completely cleared, and if any gunpowder remains, it could be dangerous. Please be careful, Jill.”
“Yes, I understand. I’ve layered several magic barriers, and if there’s any danger, Vier will sense it for me.”

Sensing how worried he must’ve been, the puppy-sized Vier rubbed her nose affectionately against Luke’s leg.

“Besides, you’ll all be protecting me, won’t you? Then I have nothing to fear.”

As I smiled naturally while saying that—in the next instant, the assembled knights and warrior-priests all froze with dazed expressions, then collapsed one after another with blissful smiles. Even Luke and the others turned red in the face and crouched down, overcome.

“Eh!? What is this chaos!?”

In the middle of the rubble-strewn site, I hugged Vier to my chest, utterly at a loss as nearly everyone around me fainted at once.

♦♢♦♢

At the deepest part of the hideout—a small hall, secretly expanded to fit about fifty people—the moment a half-dark elf man named Jin stepped inside, the forty or so members of the “Demihuman Liberation Front” who had gathered there all released an almost tangible wave of hostility, one that bordered on murderous intent.

Roughly sixty percent of those present were beastfolk with animal features—horns, ears, or scales. Another twenty percent were other types of demihumans. As for the remaining twenty percent, it was unclear whether their nonhuman traits were simply not visible, or if they were humans who sympathized with the Front’s ideology—but at a glance, they looked no different from ordinary people.

All of them were men, and judging by their rough clothes, not particularly well-off.

“Well, well… the mood here feels as if a lynching is about to begin,”
Jin said, lowering his hood and lightly shrugging his shoulders, letting the murderous atmosphere roll off him like wind through reeds.

“…Depending on the situation, that might not be far from the truth,” growled the man directly in front of him—apparently the leader, judging by his bulldog-like face that marked him as a kobold. His bared fangs gleamed as he spoke.

“Oh? And why might that be?”

“Don’t play dumb! What was that declaration of responsibility about!? There was never any plan to harm King Aulanthia! The current Shrine Maiden Princess is said to be favorable toward beastfolk and elves alike! We made it perfectly clear that no harm was to come to the current or former Shrine Maiden Princess or anyone connected to them, precisely so we could negotiate for better relations! Don’t you dare claim ignorance!!”

As their furious leader spoke, the surrounding members followed suit—

“You’re the one who provoked Comrade Isaac!”
“What happened to Comrade Isaac and the twenty who went with him?! We haven’t heard a word!”
“Because of you, our reputation is in ruins!!”

The hall erupted in shouts.

“My, my… how softhearted you’ve all become. Since when did you start cozying up to the establishment? We succeeded in taking down one of the Three Great Nobles of the Livitium Imperial Kingdom—the very heart of our enemy’s power. Shouldn’t that be cause for celebration? And as for this accusation of ‘provoking’ him—that’s simply unfair. Comrade Isaac himself had long been insisting that we needed to take decisive action, had he not?”

“You damn hypocrite!”
“You said the festival was the perfect chance!”
“You told them we should make the new Shrine Princess aware of us!”
“You fed them promises—if we proved ourselves here, Comrade Isaac would be the next leader—sweet words to make them comply!”

“And? Where’s the problem in that? After all, the decision was made by Comrade Isaac and his faction. It’s hardly fair to lay blame on me,”

Jin replied calmly, and the leader fixed him with eyes that gleamed with barely contained fury.

“And another matter: what happened to Comrade Isaac and the others who went with him?”

“They became noble sacrifices,” Jin said without a trace of shame.

For a moment, the men couldn’t grasp the meaning of his words—then, when they understood that “every last one of them was wiped out,” a shockwave ran through the hideout.

“You b̲a̲s̲t̲a̲r̲d̲!! You come back here after sacrificing our comrades—one third of our members in the capital—and you have the nerve to show your face!?”

Led by the captain, everyone shouted abuses at Jin.

At that point it looked as if, by the leader’s earlier words, the crowd would immediately mete out vigilante justice. But Jin himself showed no sign of fear.

“My, my. Weren’t you all fighters who claimed you didn’t value life for the sake of raising the status of demihumans? Comrade Isaac and his fellows fell because they followed that conviction. You should take pride in that—scolding me is putting the cart before the horse.”

“…Jin. It was a mistake to bring you into our ranks a year ago. I was soft-hearted because you’re a half-blooded dark elf with nowhere else to go—it’s my failing,”

The leader said in a low voice, a bitter mix of anger and self-reproach. Jin merely shrugged.

“In truth, I believe I served the organization well. I collected essential intelligence, diverted weapons, and even arranged food and drink for everyone.”
“Ah, that’s my error in judgment. From the start, I thought you slipped me the wrong kind of feeling—suspicious in some way—but Comrade Isaac was completely taken in by you, so I couldn’t say anything publicly. But look at the result! If we’d cut you off early, we wouldn’t have sacrificed our comrades.”

“I see.”
Jin nodded, then slowly surveyed the faces of the leader—who no longer even tried to hide his murderous intent—and of the members clutching their weapons. He let out a derisive chuckle.

“You were indeed mistaken in your judgment. If the moment I entered this room, you’d all rushed me, willing to fight among yourselves, you might have managed to kill me.”

“…What?”
“Leader, you—and all of you—have truly been incompetent. Still, I suppose I should thank you for serving as my cover in the capital.”
“What are you saying!? Jin, who the hell are you—!?”
“There’s no point revealing my name to those about to die. I don’t give parting gifts for the grave, I’m afraid. Ah, and for the record, ‘Jin’ never exists.”

The leader felt a sudden, intense sense of dread and moved to shout an order for his men to attack Jin, but—

“Your situational awareness is fatally slow. After a year together, do you think I’d come empty-handed? Food, water, liquor… I seeded your bodies with the embers of the Djinn of Fire, Ifreet. And there is plenty of gunpowder stashed throughout this hideout.”

At Jin’s snap, every member simultaneously felt a searing heat in their guts. In the same instant, they began to spew sparks from their mouths; flames leapt up, spreading wildly as the men themselves became living torches.

“GAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!! AAAAAAAAARRRGGGHHHHH!! JIN—Y—YOU B̲A̲S̲T̲A̲R̲D̲!!”

The leader, driven by a last surge of will, lunged at Jin—but Jin casually struck him down with his right hand, now wreathed in an even hotter fire. He then produced a flintlock pistol from his breast and, with cold nonchalance, fired a lead ball into the fallen leader.

Flintlocks, especially short-barelled ones, generally have low accuracy, but at such close range a miss is impossible. The leader’s chest took the shot; for a moment his body arched like a shrimp. Jin glanced at him as if he were trash and said,

“Well, with this much fire, the gunpowder will ignite soon enough. No need to linger.”

And with that remark, Jin melted away into the underground waterway—that was supposed to be sealed—leaving the place to become a raging sea of flames.