Virgin Knight Who Is the Frontier Lord in the Gender Switched World

I instructed Sabine to invite the messenger in.

Following my sister’s advice, I had figures like Lady Pretihya and Lord Berlichingen leave the tent.

The knights surrounding the tent were exclusively from the Second Princess’ personal guard, and even their voices could not be heard from here.

Present were only the eight messengers, myself, and Sabine.

Therefore, I could speak frankly.

“What are you doing, Faust?”

Lord Faust von Polydoro, the greatest hero of the Kingdom of Anhalt, stood before me in a great helm, clad in plate mail embossed with the emblem of the Cologne Sect, exuding a strange sense of intimidation.

Apparently, he’s calling himself Lord Biggus now.

Really, what are you up to?

You weren’t like this before, were you?

Though he maintains a firm demeanor as a feudal lord, he has always been kind to his people and women, and is overflowing with the honor of a knight.

But why—

“It’s for Your Highness.”

Martina, Faust’s attendant, answered. She was glaring at me a bit.

Though she maintained proper decorum, she seemed displeased.

“No, why does it end up being my fault that Faust is calling himself something as ridiculous as Lord Biggus?”

I said, pointing at Faust.

I’ve thought this before, but doesn’t Martina dislike me too much?

When Faust and I talk happily, it’s clear from the atmosphere that she becomes visibly displeased.

And when Faust speaks to her, she replies with an excessively sweet voice.

She’s only nine years old, but it’s clear she’s fully aware of herself as a girl.

…Ah, I see.

That’s why she despises me, her fiancé’s betrothed.

She can’t stand a love rival beyond her reach.

I realized this, but honestly, even if she hates me, there’s nothing I can do.

Our engagement was not decided by us but by the royal family of Anhalt, so it’s unavoidable.

Her jealousy is misplaced, I think.

But I suppose it’s just childish jealousy, a minor thing, so I’ll overlook it.

“Lord Faust, please say something.”

Martina, still with a displeased expression, wearing a bucket helm repurposed for this occasion, muttered just one word.

“Biggus!”

Was that some kind of battle cry?

Faust’s voice echoed powerfully within the tent.

Thump—Martina delivered a powerful kick to Faust’s thigh.

Yeah, that deserved a kick.

“Please be serious! Lord Biggus can only say ‘Biggus’ and nothing else? That makes no sense!”

Apparently, that ridiculous character setting has somehow taken hold in Faust’s mind.

“Why are you clinging to a character setup that seems like it was thought up in five seconds by Duchess Astarte!”

Please don’t take the nonsense from Duchess Astarte seriously.

She’s a clever fool, after all.

Martina looks like she’s about to cry, but I wish she wouldn’t leave me out of this.

“So, it’s Duchess Astarte’s fault?”

I asked Martina.

“Duchess Astarte and Lady Valiere are to blame.”

Why am I being blamed?

I tilted my head, unable to comprehend the situation, but Martina reluctantly answered.

“Essentially, Lord Faust von Polydoro, as the betrothed and advisor of the Second Princess, could not come here himself.”

Though he’s right in front of me, it’s not quite the same story.

I listened in silence.

“With the imperial election ceremony imminent, Lord Polydoro, a knight brought specially to the imperial capital, could not leave his lady, Anastasia-sama, to welcome his fiancée, Lady Valiere. Lord Polydoro is currently in the imperial capital.”

That was something I’d been curious about how they’d handled.

I see.

So Faust couldn’t come to me unless he assumed a different identity.

That’s why he adopted another name.

“Biggus!”

Yes, Biggus.

Faust cried out again.

Apparently, he can only speak like that according to his character setup.

Is he pleased with that cry, or is he still overly earnest, trying to adhere to the setup?

At any rate, I now understand the reason, and why my sister’s letter had been oddly defensive.

She was clarifying she hadn’t come up with that name.

It was all Duchess Astarte’s fault, she wanted to say.

I understood that part but—

“Wait, why am I to blame?”

Why is Martina blaming me?

I’ve done nothing wrong.

“Your Highness, maybe because you led a group of over a thousand in what seems like a military march, Lord Faust was concerned and came to protect you.”

Well, yes, that’s true.

Faust might have sensed my crisis from his superhuman senses and came to protect me—

“Even so, it’s not like I went to the imperial capital of my own volition. No, I was just following orders from my sister to come here, so I have no responsibility at all. As a member of the royal family, I had no right to refuse. If there’s any responsibility, it’s only towards my own subordinates.”

In reality, my sister didn’t need me, but Sabine.

Someone as intelligent and doted on as Faust would understand that, Martina.

And taking it out on me isn’t right.

“No, what I mean is, it’s causing trouble for Lord Faust, your subordinate.”

Martina reasoned with me, blaming me.

Well, yes, I feel a bit guilty about that.

But considering Lord Faust came of his own will to help, maybe I could lean on that—oh, I see.

Martina is envious of Lord Faust’s pure kindness towards me.

Well, she’s rather adorable, isn’t she?

“Biggus!”

Faust shouted.

If I were to interpret his intent, it seemed like a cry for Martina to stop her rudeness toward Lady Valiere. It might be time to release him from the limitation of only being able to say “Biggus.” That rule really isn’t necessary anymore.

“Lord Faust, come to your senses!”

Thump—Martina kicked Faust’s thigh again. Unfazed, Faust grabbed Martina by the scruff of her neck and lifted her up. Lord Faust von Polydoro is a superhuman, standing over 2 meters tall and weighing more than 130 kilograms, unaffected even if hit with an iron bar. Martina, merely a nine-year-old, couldn’t resist and was silently hoisted onto his shoulder.

“Is it time for us to introduce ourselves as well?”

A nervous-looking messenger, who seemed to be serving as Faust’s aide this time, spoke up. He had an unfamiliar face.

“Yes, sorry for making you witness this bizarre family interaction. I do remember the names of all the nobility of Anhalt’s royal capital, but…”

These messengers sent by my sister, along with Faust and Martina, were strangers to me.

“As you guessed, this is our first meeting. We are from Duke Temeraire’s ‘Knights of the Mad Boar.’ Following the orders of Lady Anastasia and fulfilling our loyalty to Duke Temeraire, we have come to serve as the guard for Lady Valiere.”

“Duke Temeraire?”

I knew of Duke Temeraire, but I had honestly never heard of this knightly order under his command.

Why would Lord Inotsuki listen to my sister at all? Honestly, not much information reaches me from the capital.

If the keen-eared Sabine knew something, it might help. I glanced at Sabine out of the corner of my eye—

…

She was glaring fiercely at Martina, apparently extremely displeased by the disrespect Martina had shown me. Her gaze was filled with murderous intent, like a deranged psychopath.

It’s just a child’s petty jealousy; forgive her for that much.

Why are my subordinates so short-tempered and unenlightened…

…

I suddenly felt a bit of stomach pain. What’s going on?

Faust’s arrival was supposed to spare me from such distress.

I no longer need to rely on the deity Pompon Pain.

“Now, let us introduce ourselves. As all of us have reasons for withholding our names, please refer to us by our nicknames from here on.”

You guys aren’t giving your names either?

Seriously, instead of spouting nonsense about nicknames, just introduce yourselves. Do you not have names to give me, or is that it?

I felt somewhat desperate.

Looking over the six members claiming to be from the “Knights of the Mad Boar,” I listened to their introductions while feeling my stomach churn.

“The Banished” claims to be a womanizer who loves his lord, Duke Temeraire—a genuinely hopeless case.

“The Samurai” wants a “special reward” from me if he contributes significantly to this campaign. What kind of special reward? I don’t have much to offer.

“The Cologne Knight” must be crazy, coming from the Cologne knightly order. His excessively pleasant smile is unnerving; I’d prefer he keeps his distance.

“The Defeated” was holding a large amount of apples in both hands. Likes apples, does he? That’s fine, but he should at least stop eating them while being introduced. Manners matter, I think.

“The Shadowed One” was striking a pose as if praising the sun. “Are you the sun?” she asked. I neither understood her faith nor the point of her question.

“The Loyalist,” having finished all explanations, looked incredibly apologetic.

She seemed to notice that I was pale.

As a pointless side note, she added, “The best thing recently was that my disliked husband, who was locked in a dungeon, was abducted by the Landsknecht and is now missing.”

I don’t care.

Really, what’s the point of sending me such incomprehensible people?

What is my sister thinking?

I just don’t understand.

…

A muttering reached my ears.

Looking over, Faust, still carrying Martina on his shoulder, was whispering something to her. Then, Martina spoke up.

“Lord Biggus is a Black Knight born on the frontier of the Holy Gusten Empire. Without a lord or domain, he is a freelance Black Knight struggling daily, earning his bread through mercenary work, without a single silver coin in his pocket. However, one day he received a divine revelation and set out on a journey to find the Holy Grail as a saint of the Cologne Sect.”

I didn’t ask about a character backstory thought up by Duchess Astarte in five seconds.

My fiancé sometimes blurts out things irrelevant to the conversation—a habit of his. While Faust has many good qualities as a person, he also has these annoying traits.

Yes, he’s a good person.

But right now, I wish he wouldn’t say such baffling things.

…

“Ah, this is hopeless.”

I felt a chilling sensation run down my spine as if ice water were pouring over it.

Here it comes.

An intense pain was about to strike.

Pompon Pain seemed to smile gently at me.

“I shall grant thee severe pain.”

The voice of a god resonated.

An unimaginable stomach ache hit me.

Trying to stand from my chair, I couldn’t muster the strength and instead collapsed back, hands hitting the ground before I fell onto my back.