Virgin Knight Who Is the Frontier Lord in the Gender Switched World - Chapter 75

I can hear singing.

It’s an aria (solo piece).

The song resonates throughout the entire royal garden.

It sends shivers down my spine.

Not out of fear or discomfort.

Nor is it from excitement or joy.

What should I call it? What intent does this singer have in their voice?

It’s hard to decide, it’s from the confusion.

If I had to describe it—it sounds like a wail mixed with shouts of anger.

I’ve heard it in a previous life.

It’s a tune that everyone has heard at least once.

The Queen of the Night’s aria.

From the opera “The Magic Flute,” it is “The vengeance of Hell boils in my heart.”

But Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, the composer, shouldn’t have been born in this world yet, right?

No, the emergence of the virtual Mongol Empire and Toktoa Khan has been delayed.

Therefore, it wouldn’t be strange if he, or perhaps in this world, she appeared earlier.

But, it doesn’t matter.

Considering my position as a warrior, I shall likely never involve myself with Mozart.

Just wait for a while.

The figure of Michael, a 17-year-old youth—no.

“Youth?”

The voice is a soprano, reaching the highest range of a female voice.

His height is moderate.

In Anhalt, where men generally range from 150 to 160 cm, he is unusually tall.

He must be around 170 cm.

However, his body is still typical of Anhalt men, exceedingly slender.

Is he eating properly?

Well, this fantasy world of swords and magic is one where women easily surpass men in strength.

One shouldn’t judge solely by appearances.

Over 2 meters tall, weighing 130 kg, I shouldn’t be the one to talk, given my specs.

“Hmm.”

He has the height but looks almost feminine.

Perhaps due to a lack of male hormones.

He’s extremely handsome, an ideal image of a man according to the women of Anhalt.

Well, it seems he has no testicles.

In this mad world with a gender ratio of 1:9, who would think of castrating a boy?

It’s beyond normal.

“Michael was castrated at the age of 9,”

Queen Liesenlotte murmurs beside me.

“He was part of a nomadic tribe. Led by their mothers, they earned money with his wonderful voice alone while traveling. He was always well-received wherever they went. Just for his singing.”

“Haa.”

“But, as I mentioned, the treatment of nomads is terrible everywhere they go. Despite gaining popularity for their songs and dances, they are driven out of every country and town.”

The Polydoro region, my small remote territory, should have nothing to do with this.

Suddenly, I consider how to handle nomads if they were to visit my land.

—No good, I’d drive them out too.

They cannot be trusted.

This isn’t just about nomads, but about the treatment of wanderers in general.

How can you trust people who don’t have a fixed residence and can flee with all their possessions?

“Even if they convert and join the same religion, they are still wanderers at heart. They have a distinct culture, do not assimilate with us, and their faith is only superficial. They naturally commit theft, and there are even rumors of them being cannibals. Well, it’s not Michael’s fault, but I can’t trust nomads.”

“That’s true.”

As mentioned earlier, after enjoying a few days of entertainment, I’d reward them with a smile and drive them out.

If they don’t leave, they’d end up as pig feed.

There’s no other way for a lord to handle this.

From my knowledge of a previous life and teachings from Mother Marianne, nomads are not trustworthy.

Though I, a mere frontier lord knight, do not possess a world map.

I’ve heard they originally came from far to the east to this Holy Gusten Empire.

“I wonder why they deliberately came from a foreign land to the west. They had a homeland, after all.”

“I do not know.”

In a previous life, the story of nomadic tribes was completely different.

In that life, it was speculated that they fled from the lower castes of Hindu society, though it’s just one theory.

Honestly, even in my previous life, the roots were unclear.

In this world, I doubt anyone would have studied it.

But, it’s clear they come from an unfortunate background.

“Well, that doesn’t matter. It’s about Michael. Robert has said he wants to use his own allowance to build an opera house.”

“Ah, he wanted to protect the artists?”

“Yes. Providing entertainment to the citizens is part of the reason. Robert suggested employing nomadic tribes at the opera house, contemplating their settlement in the Kingdom of Anhalt.”

I look at Liesenlotte with a puzzled expression.

What was Robert thinking?

Liesenlotte chuckles upon seeing my expression.

“Robert is kind, in a strange way, or perhaps, just different. Occasionally, he comes up with odd ideas. He thought of a humanitarian integration plan for the nomadic tribes.”

“Did it work?”

“Honestly, it’s hard to say. Whether it’s working or not. They are treated well enough. At least, they haven’t run away from the capital, and I haven’t heard of them committing any major crimes.”

That might be considered successful to some extent.

In a previous life, a certain “Empress” implemented a settlement policy, but it failed due to resistance to assimilation and misunderstandings about their culture.

But it’s been only a few years, so it’s hard to say if it’s truly successful yet.

“Robert learned about Michael’s circumstances seven years ago. When preparations for building the opera house were underway, he attracted the nomads to the capital, where he met Michael.”

“Did he become furious?”

“He’s as kind as the sun but has a terribly short temper. A bit different in taste, but his impulsiveness is just like yours, Faust. As you said, he was furious.”

In this world, men are in a protected position.

They are far too few.

But I heard that Michael’s testicles were removed by his mother’s hand, and he was castrated.

“Michael’s mother said this: ‘Even if made into a male prostitute, a wandering nomad man, unknown of any diseases he might carry, would not sell anywhere. No woman would want to bear his child. Fortunately, our group had enough male seed. He was just another asset. To maintain this voice, to make him more useful as an earner, I had him castrated. What’s wrong with that?'”

“And Robert?”

“He was furious like a storm and tried to kill Michael’s mother on the spot.”

Well, that would lead to murder.

I would do the same.

I’m curious about what happened next.

“What happened in the end?”

“After overpowering her with strength honed in gardening, he then asked Michael, ‘What do you want to do?'”

Michael’s rendition of “The vengeance of Hell boils in my heart” is entering one of its coloratura moments.

Silently, I wait for Liesenlotte’s next words.

“…Michael said he wanted revenge by his own hands.”

“Did he kill her himself?”

“Yes. He was only ten at the time. Robert hesitated to let a young boy commit matricide. He was very troubled, but eventually, he handed over the knife he wore at his waist and allowed it.”

That’s a dramatic ending.

“Michael stabbed his mother’s heart with one thrust. That ended Michael’s revenge. After that, as I said before, Robert took him in, pitying him deeply, worried about his future life. He became a servant and gardener exclusive to Robert.”

“And the singing now? I heard he became a gardener.”

“He may hate his mother, but his revenge is over, and he hasn’t come to hate singing. Robert allows him to practice in the rose garden, and sometimes he sings at the capital’s opera house. He must be practicing for the next opera now.”

I’ve grasped the general situation.

Lord Robert is quite an eccentric but possesses a modern perspective.

His personality, though somewhat different, has similarities to mine.

And there’s something pitiable about Michael’s life.

“Perhaps I should speak to him.”

“Let’s wait until he finishes his song.”

Ironically, the song Michael is currently singing fits his life terribly well.

Hear, ye gods of vengeance, hear my curse!

Michael’s song.

The lyrics are slightly different from those of my previous life.

As I contemplate this, Liesenlotte and I, enchanted by Michael’s voice, tap Marina on the back and approach Michael together as a trio.

※

“Her Majesty the Queen, may your spirits be ever splendid,” Michael murmured in his beautifully sweet, sensual voice. Indeed, I had never heard a castrato’s voice in my previous life; so this is what they sound like.

“I heard that there is a re-investigation regarding the assassination of Lord Robert. I would very much like to offer my cooperation.”

“You won’t find anything new. No, I came only to resolve some lingering regrets this time.”

Queen Liesenlotte responded with a slightly melancholy voice. Then she introduced me who was standing beside her.

“Michael, this is the first time you are meeting him. This is Lord Faust von Polydoro.”

“I have seen you a few times at the palace meeting Lady Valiere. You resemble Lord Robert quite closely.”

Do I really look that much like him? I would think that someone of my large build would be one of a kind. I remember Lady Valiere once told me that I resembled my father very much. She meant my aura, not my appearance.

At the time of Lord Robert’s death, I was on my first campaign, killing bandits. I had never been to the capital and had certainly never met him, so I don’t understand the resemblance.

Michael stared intently at my face.

“Something wrong?”

“No, you really do resemble him, Lord Polydoro.”

“Please, just call me Faust.”

I offered my hand with a smile, and Michael shook it.

“You really do look like him. Lord Robert’s hands were also rough with calluses from gardening and farming.”

“Is that so?”

Michael looked frail, but his hands bore the marks of gardening blisters. He had scars likely from rose thorns on his arms. It seems he truly was a gardener.

We released our handshake.

Michael’s beautiful face shadowed as he reminisced about the past.

“Why did Lord Robert have to die? Why did Her Majesty the Queen not allow me to die then?”

“The petition to die along with him, you mean?”

The concept of a ritual suicide didn’t exist in this mixed fantasy world, though it might in some eastern archipelago.

“It wouldn’t be right. Would the deceased Robert have wanted that?”

“I was saved by Lord Robert.”

Michael murmured softly.

“He was angry for me. He affirmed my desire for revenge. He gave me a life as a human being.”

His voice trembled as he spoke.

“I killed my own mother with these hands. I’m surely bound for hell. But perhaps, on the journey to the afterlife, I could have accompanied Lord Robert. It’s too late now. I—”

His voice, sensual and sorrowful, continued without tears, forcibly suppressing the trembling.

“I wanted to die back then, Queen Liesenlotte.”

“I’ll say it as many times as necessary, Robert would not have been pleased by such a wish. In heaven, he must be lamenting that even after five years since his death, you have not grown at all.”

One would normally avoid saying such a thing, but knowing Michael’s life makes it difficult to comment.

Queen Liesenlotte spoke gently, trying to console.

“Michael, do you remember those times? The day when Robert died?”

“I could never forget. That evening, Lord Robert had gone for his usual walk in the rose garden. I was preparing tea and sweets with the other pages. He was later than usual returning, and I was considering going to meet him when a scream came from the rose garden. It was Lady Valiere.”

The first discoverer was Lady Valiere, as before. And Michael had an alibi, unchanged.

What to do now?

If this were a mystery novel, one might suspect Michael, but this is reality.

From our conversation, it’s hard to believe Michael harbored any malice towards Lord Robert. My instincts tell me Michael is not the culprit.

Nothing has changed.

There’s no progress in the investigation.

“Michael, I would like to have a little chat. Would you come to the garden table in the rose garden?”

“Understood. I will prepare the tea and sweets. Please wait a moment.”

Michael, with the grace of a formally trained page, made a beautiful bow towards us.

Let’s see what information we can gather.

Truly, how did he die?

Looking up to the heavens, I sighed for Lord Robert above.