"My name is Fialaat-La-Borgograd.

　I'm the Lord of Belfain. In the parlor there, Fialaert's black hair swayed as she announced herself after Kalia. I'm not sure if it's because she doesn't have her hair tied back like usual, but when she bows her head, her black hair spreads out like a stream.

　Please wait a moment," said the servant, leaving the parlor, and a moment passed. It can't be helped. Nobles and lords don't often meet guests on short notice, and many of them don't like to be seen as light-hearted by meeting them easily.

　In some cultures, it was even considered good manners to make the guest wait for a while. I'm a busy man, but I'm taking time out of my busy schedule to see you," he said.

　Without thinking, Kalia sighed in her heart. It must be utterly useless. But the joy of the aristocracy or upper class is to love such futility. Kalia thought that she and her aversion to stepping on things were not in the same league.

　A moment, a blank. Kalia's lips wavered unconsciously, and she asked Fialaat at her side. Are you sure? Fialaert blinked his dark eyes curiously and said.

I don't think I've done anything that I regret.

　I don't think I did anything that I regret. The way he says it is very natural and soft, not like he's hiding something or straining his heart. Although Kalia and Fialaert had not known each other that long, Kalia could understand that much. Her white throat cleared involuntarily.

"Don't be silly. You can go back now, that's what I'm saying. I don't care. I don't care if you go back to your homeland alone now. It doesn't change what I have to do.

　Kalia whispered in a funny voice.

　The names of Kalia and Fialat have never been widely publicized as heralds of the heraldic order, despite their success. Female swordsmen, female sorcerers. They were only shown to exist. At least on the Daishonin's side, their existence was never even mentioned.

　She's been moving around so much. Those who notice it will notice it. Those who know will know.

　And yet, there are two reasons why his name hasn't gotten out to this extent. Oh, of course, there is the possibility that it's just a coincidence that his true identity is not known, but that's hard to imagine.

　One is that they don't want to spread the rumor that the nobility and knights of the upper class have fallen into barbarism like heraldry. In other words, it is the intention of the upper echelons of the cathedral and the kingdom of Garlist, where the cathedral is based. Her two tufts of silver hair swayed as she caught Kalia's sarcastic smile.

　The Gospel Wars, the Saint Revolution, the Gates of Judgment. That's what the heralds like to call the series of battles, but not the cathedral, of course. The cathedral and the surrounding countries call the series of battles as the Great Revolt of the heraldry.

　In other words, from the perspective of the Great Saints, this is not a noble war, but merely a rebellion. Therefore, they say, those who participate in it are nothing but stupid, ignorant, and ignorant common people. No nobleman or knight would agree to this pointless battle. This battle is not a noble one, it is just a barbaric act of a foolish man screaming his last. That's what they're saying.

　Because of that policy, there must be a lot of nobles in the Garlist Kingdom and surrounding countries who don't understand the magnitude of the situation. Kalia's cheeks crumpled into an unintentionally bitter smile. What a waste of vanity.

　I'm not a fan of waste, after all. A culture that loves waste has kept the nobles alive, and now it is spreading their scars.

　So, another reason why the names of Caria and Fialat have yet to spread is quite simple.

　I think they've got their hands in it. My father, Burbidge-Bardnick. I don't know what Fialaert's parents are doing, but I'm sure my father is doing the same.

　My father told me over and over again not to dishonor the family name, not to be disgraceful. After all those words, Kalia's eyes flickered as she wondered how long it would take him to die of rage if his daughter was under the command of the heraldry.

　The Bardnick family is not in a superior position. In fact, their position is probably getting worse by the day. But politics, after all, is my father's forte. I'm sure he's scrambling, his eyes bleeding, trying to catch his breath from sleep. And I'm sure he wishes he could.

　That his own daughter, me, would die soon. I hope you don't do anything more conspicuous than this.

　Perhaps that's why my name hasn't spread. Of course, it could be something else entirely, but I can't think of it right now. At any rate, it is a fact that their names have not yet come to the forefront of the world. If that is the case, then, aside from Caria, Fialat can return to his homeland. Then he can stop living with this battlefield by his side and return to his peaceful life.

　That's assuming he doesn't mention his name here. At any rate, we have now revealed ourselves as nobles and knights, respectively. We are acting on the basis of that family name.

　Then... If we behave as we always do here and back out of the heraldry... It's too late to do anything else. No amount of restraint will stop the outpouring. The names of Caria and Fialat will crawl out to the surrounding nations along with their family names. At least I know it's not a name of honor.

　Well, either way, she thinks, she'll never go back home. If she did, she couldn't expect her father to be under house arrest this time, considering his state of mind. He'll be assassinated somewhere or spend the rest of his life locked up in a high holy church.



　Oh, and then there's that.

　Kalia felt her eyes distort and her spine heat up. She could feel her brain burning deep inside.

　--There's no going back. I can't see him, but unknowingly, my eyes are following his shadow and my ears are searching for his footsteps.

　As these thoughts unknowingly surfaced in her heart, Kalia felt her cheeks turn red. The emotion expressed there was unmistakably that of embarrassment.

　What the hell am I thinking about that is so unbecoming? I can't very well tell him such a shameful and disgraceful thing. In my case, it's better to let him find himself.

　Hearing Kalia's suggestion that he should return to his homeland, Fialaat rolled his eyes a bit in surprise. The next moment, his lips pursed and he spoke clearly.

I don't want to go back to my country, but I don't have Lugis.

　Oh, I see.

　Kalia looked at Fialaat, who said it like it was nothing, and understood. In other words, it's nothing. You and this sorcerer are the same.

　We are both in a place where there is no turning back. I couldn't care less about my name now.

　As I shrugged my shoulders and said, "I see," the door to the parlor finally creaked open.

　I waited a long time. His silver eyes narrowed, as if to say that lords are good at making people wait. The lord, Mordor-Gorn, whose body and limbs were probably covered with luxurious flesh, let his thick lips wag as he spoke.

"Well, welcome, welcome. I am Mordor Gorn, Lord of Belfain. Please make my acquaintance.

　Mordor was not alone when he appeared in the parlor. He even showed some bravado and brought out a woman from behind the door. Her hair was shimmering with a golden glow.

And I wanted to say hello to both of you. This is the famous saint of the cathedral...

　Mordor's low growling voice echoed in the parlor. Following that, a soft voice that tickled my ears spilled into the air.

"How do you do? I'm Mr. Moldow's guest. Please call me Alueno.

　She said, her golden hair and eyes shimmering. Saint, Alueno.

　In the parlor, her silver eyes flickered distortedly.