The knights were undoubtedly sent by the Emperor. There was no way they weren’t, since they had been ordered to accompany according to the Emperor’s command.
Of course, it was impossible to know whose will lay beyond that, but it was clear who had given the immediate order.
As Aslan looked at the old knight before him, the old knight glared at Aslan with his remaining eye filled with rage.
This old knight was a knight who had served the royal family since the time of the former emperor, the commander of the royal guard, and a man known as the Bearer of the Black Spear.
The mere fact that such a person was present here implied much.
For instance, the Martial Masters might not have even arrived at the shrine yet.
And if the Martial Masters hadn’t come to support the shrine, it meant that interference from other divine dukes was severe.
It wasn’t easy to achieve one’s goals amidst the interference of other gods, and more likely, great calamities would ensue.
The Emperor must have wished to eliminate unforeseen variables.
That unforeseen variable was Aslan.
In the midst of confusion, he claimed to be the steed of an ancient deity.
Others might rejoice at how easily things could be smoothed over and laughed off, but Aslan was no ordinary person.
A veteran of battles and a figure of interest and hatred to all deities, Aslan was one of the few humans who deeply understood the gods.
Yet this human agreed to accompany Cornil Ashuld without any resistance.
His intentions were inscrutable, and he appeared only as an unpredictable variable.
The presence of the old knight before them signified that.
To suppress Aslan beforehand so that he couldn’t make any moves—that was the plan.
Aslan perceived this and smirked.
It was laughable that they had sent only the old knight and some cavalry to subdue Aslan.
So Aslan boldly refused.
He didn’t care about the old knight’s anger in front of him.
Even though the old knight brimmed with hostility and was fully armored, it didn’t matter—because Aslan had defeated this knight during the assassination of the emperor.
There was no reason for Aslan to fear a knight he had already beaten, regardless of how vengeful the old knight might seem now.
Since Aslan now possessed mana, there was no thought of losing. He remained calm amidst the encircling cavalry.
“Do you mean to refuse?”
Upon seeing Aslan’s arrogance and relaxed posture, the old knight slightly raised his black spear.
Aslan, seeing the rising spear, moved his hand toward his waist instead of answering.
Gripping the thick sheath visible even at a glance and holding the long hilt of the sword, he had no intention of drawing it just yet.
As Aslan prepared to feign an attack by lowering his stance, someone stepped forward.
“Hold your ground, Sir Reynold.”
It was another knight.
The knight who had accompanied Cornil Ashuld from the start, armed with a shield and a long broadsword. The knight, who appeared to be in his early thirties, blocked the old knight, causing him to frown severely.
“Are you intending to obstruct His Majesty’s orders, Sir Milton?”
The old knight spat out these words while glaring at Aslan, filled with killing intent. The knight called Milton glanced briefly at Aslan upon hearing those words.
“…Do you not know well that His Majesty did not order us to kill Lord Aslan? You know I understand that.”
The old knight did not respond, but Sir Milton defended Aslan.
“You know well that you lost to Lord Aslan before. I understand your desire for revenge, but Lord Aslan is here as a guest willing to cooperate with the investigation.”
At this statement, Aslan honestly widened his eyes in surprise.
He hadn’t expected this knight to step forward and defend him.
Aslan had cultivated a good image and shown exemplary conduct only among the soldiers.
Let alone a duke, this knight, with whom he had never even exchanged a word, defending Aslan was an unexpected outcome for him.
While this unexpected result was genuinely welcome, Aslan could not ignore the soldiers who were uneasily watching him.
Stepping forward and passing Sir Milton, Aslan addressed the old knight.
“Fine, I’ll accompany you.”
“…What?”
The old knight questioned Aslan’s words, but Aslan wouldn’t repeat them. Instead, he pointed at the cavalry with his finger, showing no concern.
“But I’d like to be treated as a guest. If you offer us horses to ride to the palace, I’ll go willingly.”
The old knight clearly showed displeasure at Aslan’s attitude and words.
Aslan, noticing this, revealed a mocking smile and said,
“Unpleasant, Sir Reynold? We find it far more unpleasant.”
Before the old knight could respond, Aslan continued.
“I am not a prisoner but a guest who has agreed to cooperate. I have no reason to be dragged around like a prisoner. You haven’t given a single reason, and suspiciously, you immediately tried to escort me. How could I not be unpleasant?”
Aslan glanced at the soldiers as he spoke.
The soldiers remained silent but seemed to think Aslan was right, looking puzzled.
Aslan opened his mouth to drive the point home further.
“And surrounding and threatening us outside the shrine—do you have something to hide, perhaps?”
This made suspicion rise in the soldiers’ eyes.
Reynold surveyed the soldiers from atop his horse, his face contorted.
“What do you want?”
“Just as I mentioned earlier. Treat me and my companions as guests. Then we’ll go with you.”
“What if we don’t?”
With that, Reynold gripped his spear. As the black spear was slightly raised, Aslan moved his hand towards his waist.
“It seems blood will have to be seen.”
Reynold stared unpleasantly at Aslan. His eyes carried a mix of emotions: malice, fury, resignation.
Ultimately, resignation pushed aside the other feelings.
“…Iml, Ronan, draw swords and prepare the carriage.”
At these words, three heavy cavalrymen reluctantly dismounted, and Aslan smirked slightly.
*
Belus Ma’Kell, the capital of the Calus Empire, which holds the most extensive territory in the northern continent and is an ancient fortress dating back to the era when the worship of the Ancient Gods was prevalent.
The Calus Empire, which emerged after the fall of the Ancient Gods, flourished under the solid defense of Belus Ma’Kell.
The most distinctive feature of Belus Ma’Kell was its walls.
Standing at an estimated height of 30 meters, the massive walls, existing even from the time when the Ancient Gods reigned, remained flawless without a single blemish.
Truly a fortress built by the hands of gods, beyond what modern humanity could achieve.
People referred to it as “Belus,” a dead language meaning “Fortress of the Gods.”
Inside this Fortress of the Gods, following the walls along the mountain stood the Imperial Palace.
And there was Aslan.
More specifically, in the guest quarters within the palace.
Leisurely seated on a chair, Aslan contemplated.
The original guards, having returned to their duties, would surely spread rumors about the emperor’s assassin to their fellow soldiers.
Rumors that the emperor’s assassin didn’t seem like a bad person, and was actually kinder than expected.
If everything went according to Aslan’s plan, the rumor would also include that the imperial cavalry had suspiciously appeared and forcibly taken the emperor’s assassin.
Everything was going according to plan. Therefore, Aslan rested comfortably, recovering from fatigue without worry.
Only Angie and Harrod were anxious.
Despite not having their weapons confiscated or being threatened, Harrod felt uneasy due to the unwelcoming cavalry and the old knight.
Angie simply wore an uncomfortable expression, possibly driven by intuition.
Harrod, who had been fiddling with his shield and weapon, glanced at Angie and approached Aslan.
“My lord, I must ask, why did you come willingly? Surely someone of your caliber could have escaped the situation?”
Instead of answering, Aslan turned his gaze to Angie approaching, and she shrugged.
“If so, why didn’t you just leave?”
Though the situation wasn’t easy to speak about lightly, Angie and Harrod’s points weren’t entirely wrong.
Had Aslan wanted, he could have effortlessly brushed off that level of threat and escaped. Even when Cornil Ashuld first sought his cooperation, Aslan could have refused and wiped them out.
But Aslan didn’t do that.
He didn’t kill Cornil Ashuld and agreed to accompany them. Following the old knight Reynold’s threats, he entered the palace.
Ordinarily, it would be considered a poor situation. After all, there were numerous Martial Masters within the palace, along with significantly more troops.
It was practically inside the enemy’s belly, yet Aslan remained unperturbed.
Rather, he was at ease.
Resting his chin on his hand, Aslan smiled faintly.
“There’s nothing to worry about. Even if things go awry, there’s still a plan. So far, everything has gone exactly as planned.”
Hearing this, Harrod made an utterly baffled expression, evident even if one tried to conceal it.
“A plan…? I’d like to hear what it entails.”
Harrod’s tone suggested disbelief, perhaps because the fear instilled in him by Aslan had lessened. Indeed, it was a situation hard to believe, no matter how much trust and fear existed.
Thus, leaning back in his chair, Aslan replied,
“I can’t explain the details. But if everything goes according to plan, you won’t be chased by priests for a while.”
Harrod, stroking the scales on his neck with a dubious look, prompted Aslan to continue.
“I understand your dissatisfaction with being dragged around without exercising your freedom, but splitting up now will expose you to the priests’ pursuit. At least endure until it becomes safe.”
Just as Harrod hesitated with a disgruntled expression,
Knock, knock, knock
The sound of someone knocking on the wooden door, undoubtedly crafted from fine material, echoed.
Before Aslan could invite them in, the door opened, and someone entered.
The figure who entered, closing the door behind them and exhaling heavily, was a girl.
A girl shorter than Angie.
Dressed in a luxurious sky-blue dress, her eyes shone the same color blue. Though delicate, the girl exuded a cold aura, captivating enough to widen Angie’s eyes.
Breathing heavily with her shining platinum hair fluttering, the girl closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
“I won’t elaborate. Flee quickly.”
Her abrupt statement was both perplexing and startling, leaving Angie and Harrod wide-eyed and unable to react.
Only Aslan lifted the corner of his lips.
Without receiving a response, the girl, who had been regulating her breathing with her eyes closed, slowly opened them.
“This might be confusing, but you must flee. You’ve fallen into a trap…”
The girl stopped mid-sentence, startled by the man looking at her.
“Y-you… Emperor’s Assassin?”
Upon hearing the familiar title, Aslan rose from his chair. The girl blinked, surprised.
Startled by her reaction, Aslan knelt and bowed respectfully.
Taken aback by the gesture, the girl stammered, “W-why are you…”
Smiling gently, Aslan responded,
“I’ve been waiting for you. You can’t pass by something like this, can you?”
Though the girl didn’t answer, it didn’t matter.
Aslan was merely satisfied that the final piece of his plan had finally fallen into place.
The girl’s name was Ilyena of Ma’Kell.
The Emperor’s younger sister and the daughter of the former emperor whom Aslan had killed.
Approaching her, he asked,
“Will you help us?”
