Virgin Knight Who Is the Frontier Lord in the Gender Switched World - Chapter 141

Duchess Temeraire, looking completely drained and with a somewhat lonely expression, stares at me.

It appears as if a demon has been exorcised from her.

Considering what I’ve heard from her subordinate, a “Loyalist,” I had thought she might be suffering from bipolar disorder.

Duchess Temeraire’s gaze is steady and sane as our eyes meet.

Of course, I cannot be completely certain without speaking to her.

“Lord Faust von Polydoro”

Duchess Temeraire speaks my name.

“First, allow me to commend you. You’ve admirably defeated the six superhumans of my deranged Boar Knights. It may seem a grand gesture to praise, but as a pure knight, I must express my respect.”

“…Your praise is gratefully accepted.”

Who are you?

Involuntarily, such a thought reflects in my expression.

Not the woman who, as Anastasia-sama’s partner, praised me in a soft voice at the soirée.

Nor the furious woman who falsely claimed to have defeated Reckenber before the fortress.

The person I am facing is neither—a knight alone.

“Furthermore—Lord Polydoro, your commendable victory over Lord Reckenber in single combat. I acknowledge this. I want to correct previous misunderstandings, and I must apologize to you, Lord Polydoro. My subordinate’s partner insulted you at the soirée. All responsibility rests with her guardian, the host of the soirée, Duchess Temeraire.”

“Duchess Temeraire”

“All this was due to my oversight. My apologies, Lord Polydoro.”

Duchess Temeraire expresses her apology sincerely, bowing her head.

Normally, this would have been enough.

And I do think that it should suffice.

“Those were my true feelings. As for what Lord Polydoro achieved before our fortress—the ‘Cannonball Return’ and the defeat of my ‘Deranged Boar Knights.’ All these are my sincere sentiments. Let there be no doubt.”

But this is no longer just that.

Duchess Temeraire and I are about to duel.

“Now, Lady Yue of Virendorf, and the Elector of Anhalt—perhaps the commander of the first princess’s personal guard? Or should I now call you ‘Queen’s Guard Captain,’ Lady Alexandra?”

“Until the elector’s coronation, it’s still…”

“I see. This incident, I truly apologize. I’ve troubled both of you as well. Though unnecessary, I shall provide a gratuity for you two to act as witnesses until the end.”

I accept her apology, but it’s no longer just that.

Moreover, Duchess Temeraire is not about to let it end there.

“Indeed. That’s right. Hey, you soldier there. Make sure to tell the Loyalist clearly. This is my promise. Whatever happens in this duel, the promise must be kept until the end. I am not fond of Virendorf’s style, but once a promise is made, it should be kept to the end. Unlike that Katarina, raised by Reckenber, who never understood that affection until she died.”

Duchess Temeraire looks almost like a martyr.

There’s no word that can reach her now, that much Faust can understand.

“Yes. That is all. That is all that lingers. Let everyone live out their lives as they wish after this. Death is a loss, but if one does not die, their story continues.”

Duchess Temeraire is aware she might lose to me.

That much is clear from her behavior.

And…

“I am to fulfill my knightly tale. This is my story. I won’t let anyone interfere.”

She is performing a ritual of casting aside all distractions.

Like a heavily armored cavalry breaking through enemy spears, she is prepared to die if necessary.

She’s digesting all the rituals for victory in front of me.

Having completed all rituals, Duke Temeraire asks me.

“Now, I’ve said all I wanted to say. Do you have anything you wish to say, Lord Polydoro?”

“…There’s much I want to ask. But that can wait until after the duel.”

The things Anastasia-sama, Duchess Astarte, and Queen Katarina want to know.

As Faust, I too want to understand everything about the nomadic equestrian nation.

That can wait.

If there’s anything I need to ask first…

“I have three questions.”

I state frankly.

“Ask away.”

Duchess Temeraire also answers succinctly.

“One, what was Lord Reckenber to you?” 

“The most hateful, the strongest in the world, and likely watching our duel from Valhalla right now—a legendary hero of the Holy Gusten Empire, the greatest in its history.”

Her response seems unambiguous, delivered without averting his gaze.

“Two, were you the source of Lord Reckenber’s information?” 

“…I will answer. If you mean I relayed information about the nomadic equestrian nations, then yes, that’s correct. You might be under the misconception that Reckenber first recognized the threat from her nation, but that’s not true. I first realized it through my trade with the Feilon dynasty and consulted with Reckenber. If you want more details, you’ll have to defeat me.”

After a brief hesitation at my clumsy question, Duchess Temeraire replies, breaking down what she thinks I want to know. She likely won’t offer more information. I scratch my head and proceed to the final question.

“Three, your subordinate, the Loyalist, is concerned. She heard a phrase, ‘After hearing all the information, will you betray me too?’ What does that mean?”

“Unnecessary worries…”

Frowning, she shows a troubled expression, yet it seems of little consequence to her. With a characteristic nonchalance, she smiles faintly.

“There was a traitor. Yes, there are traitors in this Holy Gusten Empire. Everyone, anyone, wouldn’t think twice about crushing the country for what they hold dear. It’s perhaps inevitable—for their homeland, for those they love, for their benefactor. It’s excusable for a Landsknecht who only possesses a ‘Rose Garland’ from Reckenber. Those poor souls blinded by the gold in front of them should be forgiven. Blaming them is absurd. But there are those in positions where betrayal should never occur—ah, well. That’s how it is. I was wrong.”

Without condemning or mocking anything, a slightly lonely, husky voice resonates.

“My Loyalists, my beloved dogs, wouldn’t betray me. Why did I even say that? After this duel, I’ll apologize to her. Is that satisfactory?”

“That would be proper.”

Your subordinates will be rewarded. I never intended to harm you, Duchess Temeraire. Any loss can be reclaimed. That’s what I state.

“Is that so?”

Duchess Temeraire quietly responds. But then…

“Don’t insult me, Lord Polydoro.”

It seems I chose the wrong words to say. Perhaps I shouldn’t have spoken them.

“I don’t intend to kill you. You don’t intend to kill me either. That’s that, this is this. It can’t be helped if one of us dies. It’s part of the resolve one must have for a duel. Don’t insult me.”

Duchess Temeraire, not yet helmeted, looks profoundly sad.

“Lord Reckenber fought me five times and never held back. Every strike could have ended my tale. Are you planning to hold back in our duel? Because it would be bad if you killed me, are you planning to go easy?”

Her eyes are clouding over. Unlike before when I deemed her sane, her gaze is uncertain now.

“I hate being insulted. I will never accept that someone is superior to Reckenber. Never. Even if you defeated her, you’re not her replacement. What meaning is there? What was the point in you defeating Reckenber?”

The face of Duchess Temeraire, the Deranged Boar, now appears enraged and on the verge of madness.

“I’ve said it before, even in front of the fortress. You are a knight worthy of facing a thousand men alone, but that’s it! You’re not Reckenber! You’re not fighting desperately like me! You don’t even know what’s happening in this empire!”

Duchess Temeraire, her expression one of madness, is screaming.

“I know about you. I know because I desperately investigated who killed Reckenber. I knew everything before your heroic tales reached the imperial capital. I knew about the 99 knights you defeated in Virendorf, about the oath you took in Anhalt. I know everything. Knowing all that, let me tell you, you understand nothing. You don’t grasp anything. You don’t know how deep the sin of killing Reckenber is!”

The grip strength of a superhuman creaks in his iron fist covered in armor. Charlotte le Temeraire, Duchess of the Deranged Boar, a title that carries both praise and criticism.

“You understand nothing. Come at me, Lord Faust von Polydoro. You should never have been born. Die, you plague.”

With eyes and voice overflowing with unprecedented hatred, she simply curses me. After I prompt her to don her helmet, I quietly affirm my own existence.

“I was born into this world to honor my mother’s name, to glorify my lands, to take pride in everything I am.”

And in that pride, there was not a trace of faltering.