”[Basic.Javelin].” A blurred cylindrical mass of mana manifested in the ’Javelinist’s’ hand, and with a sharp swing of his arm, he propelled the weapon onto the roof of a building that lined the Little Eden.
*CLING!* *CLING!* *CLING!*
A sound grew louder as a folded fire escape fell downward, its rusted metal bouncing against the wall until it reached the street below.
So much rust…well, at least it ain’t mold.
Jacques took a long breath before beginning his climb, hand over hand and foot after foot, slowly ascending the building while hidden from public view by how narrow the alley behind the plaza was.
The dire condition of the staircase made him nervous, silently praying for his safety and thanking his Basilisk-Leather Gloves, which spared him from jagged edges and the lethal dose of Tetanus they surely carried. Nevertheless, a job was a job. Hence, there was no turning back, and that was also why, after reaching the top of the designated building, Jacques let out a deep exhale, releasing all the accumulated tension before drawing another breath to prepare for the feat ahead.
From that elevated roof, he could admire the whole of Little Eden, including the libraries and shops he had explored with Oshira. The Naturian lady had left only minutes earlier after suddenly receiving an [Email] from her brother, urging her to meet him at some so-called base, leaving Jacques free to focus on the true reason he had organized this little trip to Showcase Island.
The ’Javelinist’ clutched the edge of the roof, retrieved the binoculars he had rented for free from the ’MCPD,’ and pointed them at the massive oak at the plaza’s center. More precisely, on the amber window just beneath the tree’s canopy—the most exclusive floor of the department store. He waited in silence, not daring to move a muscle out of paranoia of being spotted from below, and after twenty minutes of testing the limits of his patience, finally, he spotted his target. A middle-aged woman—by Essentias’ standards, of course—entered the storeroom, lit a cigarette, and stared out the window, her body trembling in eager anticipation, and Jacques mirrored the same tension from across the road—both viewer and actor silently awaiting for the show to start.
Then the door burst open with a violent crash, and the woman’s breath caught in her throat as the main star walked on the stage—a young and handsome man. The two locked eyes for a long, everlasting moment before the ’show’ began, and from what Jacques could see through the amber glass, they held nothing back, believing that here in their private Eden, no one could interrupt their sin.
They were only partially correct. No camera could have captured them from that distance, but her husband already had more than enough evidence, merely needing a final assurance before unleashing the legal inquisition. That was precisely why Jacques had been hired, and for the next hour, he observed the lovers indulging in their act of love, jotting down every detail a husband would undoubtedly recognize—blame the client, not the hitman.
After gathering enough insight, he left the lovers to their private moment and descended the staircase with a broad smile on his face. He was delighted to have completed the job, but even more of having quickly moved away from the area without any unexpected witnesses to deal with. That’s why, when he reached the nearest road and merged into the crowd, he relaxed a little too much, failing to notice the big figure he was about to walk into.
*Ouch!*
The two collided, but only the back of the ’Javelinist’ kissed the ground. “Everything al—Jacques? What are you doing here?” A surprised Casimir asked, but he couldn’t offer any helping hand as his instinct urged him to because both arms were busy with balancing two towering stacks of shopping boxes.
“Ahah! So, you’ve been stalking me this whole time.” A perfidious chuckle from behind sent Jacques a shiver down his spine. “Not to jump to hasty conclusions, but isn’t this city made of a few too many islands for coincidences like this?” Katrina greeted his classmate with a malicious smirk, extending a hand covered by an anaconda-leather glove, which oddly matched with Jacques’s.
“You actually think I’d give a shit about you enough to do that?” Jacques shoved her hand aside, rising on his own and brushing the dust out of his clothes. “Ahem…I was visiting the island with Oshira until an hour ago. You may ask her.”
“Don’t worry—I will.” After one last challenging glance at Jacques, the ’Data Analyst’ turned toward the ’Scarecrow,’ her expression dazzling. “Let’s take this as a sign of divine intervention and wrap things up for today.” She gently caressed his big bicep. ”You can bring all these boxes to my dormitory, okay?” Casimir eagerly nodded, his face reddened as he struggled to break eye contact.
“Ahem…ss-see you l-later…Jacques…” he stammered, giving a quick farewell to his teammate before lumbering off. However, before he could escape, a hand stopped him. “Oh, one last thing.” Katrina rose onto her toes and pressed her bluish lips to Casimir’s cheek. “This is to thank you for today—I had a lot of fun. See you later, Kaz.” Her giggle lingered in the air as his brain short-circuited, tottering away like a malfunctioning automaton—one step right and another left—while still failing to reclaim consciousness.
“You monster!” Jacques bellowed as he watched his friend vanish into the horizon, eclipsed beneath towers of Katrina’s clothes. “That poor guy will never forget this!”
Her malicious smirk widened till it nearly consumed her face. “Who wouldn’t?” The ’Data Analyst ’ rejoiced at each fold now covering the ’Javelinist’s’ expression, who was drowning him in his seethe.
“You’re laughing? My friend is going to waste his best years trying to square the circle, and you’re laughing!” His pleas only fueled her amusement, her chuckles turning into open laughter. “At least have the decency not to exploit him like a mule!”
“You’re mistaken. For his assistance, Casimir has been greatly rewarded,” Katrina clarified, although Jacques continued to frown at her. “In short, he needed money for a project of his, and since I don’t believe in charity, I offered him to help me in exchange for the sum he required, and Casimir willingly accepted.” She shrugged. “So, I fail to see your problem.”
“Well…it’s still…oh, fuck—whatever.” Jacques shrugged as well, then glanced at the time on his worn-out watch. “Surprisingly, I’ve got a couple of free hours.” He jerked his thumb toward a bar behind him. “Want to grab a coffee, Miss Welf?”
“Ahah, what audacity!” She gave him a smug look. ”Are you afraid Casimir might have earned too many points, Mr. Dreux?”
Why the hell does every single conversation I’ve ever had with her always end up as a chess match?
Jacques sighed, cursing his [LUK]. “Yes or no? Unlike you, Miss ‘My Day Controls the Empire’s Money,’ I don’t have time to waste.”
“Firstly, the answer is no. Secondly, being the daughter of the Minister of the Economy comes with various responsibilities, especially in these chaotic times. In just a few minutes, I’ll be meeting with a group of very important people to attend the Miraval Museum of Chaotian and Imperial History. It is hosting a special exhibition on the Great Civil War, and I’m among the few invited to join the director on stage for a public announcement that has drawn journalists from every Fiefdom of the ’HRE.’” She concluded with a challenging glance. “Tell me, Jacques, has anyone ever paid for your presence at an event just to boost its prestige?”
“Never,” he replied, matching her smug look. “Because I’m not furniture.” By the way, he really wanted to use a different word. ”Anyway, have fun, and see you tomorr—HOLY SHIT!” Jacques suddenly slammed face-first into the glass of a weapon shop’s display, his eyes locked on a peculiar object behind the showcase.
“Why are you making a fool of yourself? It’s just a javelin,” the ’Data’ Analyst commented flatly, bad-eyeing how the ’Javelinist’ reacted to the overly decorated weapon displayed behind the thin sheet of glass that separated reality from the dream world.
“Just a JAVELIN?!” He shouted, incredulous. “This little baby is a De L’Hôpital Suprême-X1937, designed by René Kalacheau, with an embedded Mana Engine boasting [STR=411], [DEX=342], amd [INT=277]! It can one-shot a Class C and even deal serious damage to a Class B—it’s P-E-A-K!” Jacques started to lick the glass, practically drowning in his own imagination, while Katrina, on the verge of vomiting, turned away in revulsion.
“Look, I don’t know, and I couldn’t possibly care less about why anyone would ever want the objectively worst weapon anyone could bring to a battlefield. Buy a spear, or a Gaussbow, but for the love of Adam—thirty-seven thousand Marini for something that breaks after one use? For the same price, you could buy a speedboat, or why not—a Griffin.” Her words made Jacques punch his own forehead, reminding him that he had forgotten to buy a Griffin in time for his first lesson of Griffin Riding, scheduled in two days. “Well…but if you really want it, there’s always that favor I owe you, remember?”
“Never! I’m not trading a stronger lifesaver for a weaker one.”
That being said…what about the Griffin?
He bit at his thumbnail nervously.
No, I can’t do that. But if I have no beast when the lesson…I’m so fucked.
Pressing his palms together, he lowered his head in reverence.
I pray to you, Holy Trinity, ANYTHING that can delay the lesson is acceptable to me.
But if he thought he had already hit rock bottom, the situation sank even further when a shop clerk stepped up and removed his beloved javelin from the showcase, shattering what little hope remained and delighting Katrina.
“It’s over, it’s fucking over!” He screamed, yanking his hair. However, just as he was planning how to bomb and rob the place, he heard the shop’s door open, prompting him to quickly turn his head toward the man who had taken everything from him. Yet, the sight of his face took the ‘Javelinist’ by surprise. ”C-chad?”
“Jacques? What are you doing here?!” The ‘Hero’ blinked, awkwardly smiling as he hid the freshly bought javelin behind his back. Then, through the same door, two more familiar figures entered, adding further fuel to the chaos.
“You again!” Astary shouted, her large eyes perfectly conveying her honest opinion of the unexpected meeting. Meanwhile, SS-Class ‘Nostalgic Reactionary’ Anicet Cosmatern lifted a hand, offering a shy wave to the man who had given him the cotton candy—its taste still tormenting his tongue since that day at the Miraval Stadium.
“Ahem!” Katrina demanded her well-deserved piece of attention. “Mmm…my greetings to all of you, but it seems someone is missing?”
“Tsuki is still in the hospital, Mikhail declined the invitation, and I haven’t heard from Ælfgifu—she hasn’t replied to our [Emails],” Chad explained as his gaze moved toward Jacques, whose hollow expression worsened as he slowly rose and turned his back to them.
“I’ll leave you all to your duties. See you la—” But before Jacques could leave them, the ’Hero’ abruptly stopped him, forcing the ‘Javelinist’ to meet those gorgeous diamond eyes that never failed to steal his breath away.
“Jacques…” Chad began, a faint hesitation in his voice. “I wanted this to be a surprise, but since you’re here, there’s no reason to hide it anymore—this is for you, bro.” With radiant pride, he extended the expensive javelin toward Jacques, and his reaction was immediate and devastating. It was as if an entire hive of wasps had stung him all at once. His pupils dilated, his hands trembled, his mouth fell open—his brain failed to rationalize that such a pure soul could still exist in such a rotten world.
”WHAT?!” Astary shrieked in such a high-pitched voice that it nearly shattered everyone’s eardrums. ”Are you an idiot? He’s a dirty plebian, who is going to sell your precious gift to gamble, buy drugs, and indulge in all the debauchery that lower classes love to destroy their lives with.”
“Calm down. I’m sure Jacques is a respectable person, like you and me,” Chad rebutted, but his girlfriend refused to yield.
“You trust people too easily—that’s lethal for any monarch.” The ’Shining Star’s’ skin flared, projecting an inquisitive cone of light over Jacques’ face. “Hey, you…Jack, right?”
“It’s Jacques, my Queen.” Even as his corneas burned under the beam, his eyes never left the javelin he was now caressing like a newborn child.
“Um, whatever. What do your parents do for a living?”
“According to my orphanage, my mother was a lady of the night, while my father is unknown, probably one of her many clients,” Jacques carelessly answered, still too engrossed in admiring his gift to think about his words.
The revelation darkened Astary’s glow, her expression twisting with a disgust she hadn’t thought herself capable of showing. Chad, however, could not have been happier, flashing the brightest and most genuine of smiles, as if he had just hit a lottery jackpot. “Trust creates civilizations, while paranoia destroys them. It doesn’t matter how many times my friends backstab me—I won’t betray them! Therefore, Jacques does deserve my trust, doesn’t he?”
The ’Javelinist fell’ to his knees in tears, now certain beyond doubt that he was speaking to the reincarnation of Hero Roland himself. “My Emperor, I—FFF-Class ’Javelinist’ Jacques Dreux—solemnly vow eternal loyalty to you. My body and soul are yours, and yours alone, for the rest of my life.” His head bowed low, radiating a holy aura—a light of self-abnegation that seemed to burn away every selfish desire in pursuit of something greater. ”Oh, my Emperor, I implore you to grant me the sweetest of things—a dream worth dying for.”
Chad was left astonished, pinching himself to confirm he wasn’t dreaming. “Jacques…I…” As any good book lover, the ’Hero’ had devoured thousands of chivalric tales, yet never before had he seen, with his own eyes, an errant knight swear fidelity to his lord. For a brief moment, he even wondered if Jacques had orchestrated the scene from the very beginning. Nevertheless, he had to honor his own words.
“Although it is technically prohibited for me to knight anyone before ascending the throne, there is a certain gray area concerning His Holiness’s Most Sacred Souls,” Chad declared, taking the javelin from Jacques’ trembling hands and raising it like a ceremonial sword. “Since all of them are already considered Knights by law…yes, I can do this.”
*Shunk!*
The ’Hero’ thrust the javelin forward, piercing directly into Jacques’ heart—an ancient tradition meant to prevent Soulfuls from becoming Knights. Then, without hesitation, he cut his own arm, letting blood spill onto the weapon until it streamed into Jacques’ hollow soul. “Rise, Messere Dreux—most sacred soul to my heart, honorary member of the Senate, and Knight of the Holy Rolandish Empire.”
Jacques blinked, but his body released all the adrenaline left to ruin the most important moment of his life. “With the meager honors I can offer, I gladly accept the duty you bestow upon me. From this day forth, my life, my wife, and my children shall come second only to His Holiness. I shall live solely for your glory, and I shall die at your slightest command. For Adam, for the Holy Trinity, and for you—My Emperor.” The ’Hero’ withdrew the javelin, raising it high in salute to the newly knighted man.
“Ahah! AHAH! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Katrina tried with all her strength to stop her laughter, covering her mouth and clutching her stomach as—all hopeless. “Congratulations…ahah!…Senator Dreux—AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
Anicet, by contrast, envy-eyed both, silently wondering what it would feel like to have such a loyal follower. Astary, however, was beyond the definition of outrage. “HE IS A PLEBEIAN! It is against all our traditions, our laws, and our morals to knight him—HIS BLOOD IS FILTHY!” Her glow flashed into the hottest hues imaginable.
“Actually, my Queen,” the ’Javelinist’ interjected, fumbling a long piece of paper from his [Inventory] and showing it to her. “I’ve recently undergone numerous blood tests, and as you can see, all my values are far above the optimal standards. Hence, my blood is perfectly clea—ACK!” A blazing beam of light incinerated both the paper and Jacques’ retinas, his [HP] instantly dropping by 30%.
“Astary, hitting one of my Most Sacred Souls to My Heart is the same as striking me. Do you realize what you’ve done has consequences?” Astary folded her arms, closed her eyes, and tilted her head to the side—her pride was indeed a nasty beast.
Chad helped Jacques to his feet, apologizing for her actions, but Jacques assured him he bore no grudge against the ’Shining Star.’ ”May His Holiness satisfy a small curiosity of mine? Well…how much is a Knight’s wage?”
“Nothing. Friends don’t protect each other for money. On the contrary, there’s a symbolic monthly contribution of 3,737 Marini, mandatory for all members of the HHMSS.”
“Ahem…Are you joking?” Chad grimaced, his diamond eyes colder than Jacques had ever seen. “Perhaps…do you accept Bills of Exchange to pay in, oh, I don’t know…thirty-seven years?”
“Cash only.” Chad’s tone made it clear he wasn’t joking, punctuated by multiple taps to his chest. Reluctantly, Jacques handed over all his savings to his Emperor, who inspected each banknote multiple times before nodding. “Remember to pay on time next month. For whatever reason, missing a payment is considered open rebellion against the Crown and is punished by death.”
Jacques swallowed hard. The rent, the equipment needed just to stay alive in battle, the bill for his brain surgery, and now this—his monthly expenses had just shattered the psychological ceiling of 10,000 Marini, and he still had a Griffin to buy.
It’s fine…I just need to work harder—eight hours of sleep are, indeed, overrated.
“Senator Dreux—ahah!—it will be an honor for the museum to host the youngest politician in history. What about joining us?” Katrina teased through her chuckles, and Chad eagerly nodded at her proposal, while Anicet gave a nonchalant shrug, and Astary just shrieked—three versus one, Jacques couldn’t refuse.
So, the group departed for First Island, but after only a few meters, the ’Shining Star’ stopped in front of a café. “Ælfgifu?” The others followed her example and glanced inside. There she was—the ’Dust Symphonicist’—sitting with a handsome young man.
“Wasn’t El…ahem…I mean, wasn’t the Marquise close with that Archeolord?” Jacques asked, and the others nodded.
“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Chad tried to calm the situation. “Maybe it’s a diplomatic mission—if the Eleutheria Republic attacks, Oldmarch will need as many allies as possible.” For a moment, everyone agreed, but then Ælfgifu caressed her guest’s hand, whispered something in his ear, and delicately wiped his mouth with her handkerchief.
“…Maybe they’re just childhood friends,” the ’Hero’ tried again, but, moments later, she wrote something on the boy’s hand, mimed a telephone, and bid him farewell in a way that was anything but diplomatic.
“…Maybe she’s just confused about her feelings,” Chad desperately mumbled, but a minute later, a new young man entered and the exact same scene repeated.
“Kafka bros…it’s over.”
