"Hmm... I understand the situation."
Miklotov spoke after a moment of silence, his voice carrying a hint of a complex sigh.
"Leip-sama was an old friend of mine for many years. I never expected to hear news of his death here. Priscilla-sama's words are indeed legally sound."
Although Priscilla's words were extremely cold, Miklotov seemed to have anticipated it. He simply adjusted his breathing and accepted the fact.
"Of course." Priscilla said, arrogantly lifting her chin.
"While I would like to know more details, however..."
Miklotov turned his gaze to the attendant beside her. "And the knight there? Could you please explain?"
"Ah, me?"
Al replied in a voice that clearly indicated he had just yawned, immediately drawing a flurry of dissatisfied whispers from the surroundings.
Whether he was influenced by Tsukasa or not, even he found this lengthy ceremony tedious. Along with the person next to him, the three of them were practically competing to see who could 'heat up' the atmosphere more.
"Yes, you. Your attire is quite unique, and you wear a helmet never seen before in the Royal Guard. Is it from Vollachia?"
"Oh, you know your stuff?"
Al perked up a bit. "This helmet is made in the Southern Vollachia Empire, it took quite a bit of effort to get my hands on it. It's sturdy and durable, and most importantly, the design is cool. I like it a lot."
"A product of the Vollachia Empire... Then, you do not belong to our kingdom's Royal Guard?"
"I've long since had nothing to do with Vollachia. Now I'm just a wandering vagabond—you can just call me Al."
He paused, his tone becoming casual. "Also, it seems some people are unhappy about me covering my face but please, show some mercy."
This rude remark drew more accusatory stares. Becoming the center of attention, Al reached under his helmet with his remaining right hand and lightly lifted it up a bit.
"Ugh!"
Through the gap, his mouth could be seen. But everyone who caught a glimpse couldn't help but gasp.
The exposed skin was densely covered with overlapping old scars—burns, lacerations, and more. It was shocking, looking as if he had suffered a thousand cuts.
"Now you understand, right?"
Al's voice sounded from under the helmet, tinged with self-deprecation. "My whole face is unbearable to look at. If you all could tolerate my discourtesy in communicating with my face covered like this, I would be most grateful."
Marcos said in a deep voice, "If I may ask one more question, from Vollachia, and bearing such heavy injuries... Could it be that you were once a Sword Slave?"
"Heh, as expected of the captain of the Royal Guard, you're well-versed in the dark side of that secretive empire."
Al lowered his helmet, his tone relaxed. "That's right, I was a Sword Slave. Did it for over ten years, I'm quite the veteran."
The term "Sword Slave" caused another stir of whispers in the hall. Many knights repeated the term under their breath.
Sword Slave?
Behind Tsukasa's sunglasses, his eyes shifted slightly.
Could this guy's background really be that unusual?
He habitually tried to raise his hand to stroke his chin, but his fingertips met the cold faceplate of his helmet.
"You mean you were in a place where fighting was entertainment?" Miklotov pressed.
"That's right, old man."
Al shrugged, the movement of his single arm looking somewhat comical. "Sigh, mistakes of youth. Losing this arm was because of that, too."
As he recounted these tragic past events, there was no pride in his tone, only a flat indifference bordering on numbness.
Those who had been casting reproachful glares earlier were now speechless.
Tsukasa remembered how Al had been vague about the reason for his missing arm in the dragon carriage, now he finally had an answer.
Miklotov returned to the main topic, "Then, for what reason did you choose to stand by Priscilla-sama's side?"
"There is no special reason, merely the result of a game I played on a whim."
Priscilla answered first, lightly waving her folding fan.
"Just as it is the will of heaven for me to become the momarch, it matters not who serves as an attendant."
"I simply chose according to my preference. As a companion for amusement, this man is interesting enough."
"May I ask, how was he chosen?" Miklotov asked.
"Need you even ask?" Priscilla spoke as if the question were foolish. "To become my attendant, one must naturally catch my eye."
"With that as the condition, I gathered everyone in my territory who had confidence in their skills and had them compete—it was quite a fine entertainment program."
At this point, she glanced sideways at Tsukasa meaningfully, her gaze as if to say: It's truly a waste that you won't become my servant.
"I see. So, Al-san was the winner of that competition..."
"No, I didn't win, you know?"
Al interjected, his words unexpected. "It's not that simple for a guy with only one hand to stand out among a crowd of people boasting of their strength. Life isn't that easy."
"It was a tournament where the final four remained, and then I hit the jackpot by drawing lots."
Miklotov showed clear surprise on his face. "What? Then why did Priscilla-sama still choose you as her attendant?"
Priscilla's smile deepened, her red eyes sparkling with pure light of amusement. "I have already said, I simply chose the object of my appreciation."
"Therefore, I chose Al as my attendant. The person I choose, and the path I walk, are all the will of heaven to bring glory to me."
There was not a trace of hesitation or doubt in her voice. She was confident to the point of causing an inexplicable sense of trepidation in others.
"You mean... heaven has chosen you?"
"Naturally."
Priscilla lifted her chin and said as if it were a matter of course, "In this world, only things favorable to me occur. Therefore, only I am fit to be the monarch."
"I will not settle for any position other than the monarch. All you must do is bow your heads in obedience."
This declaration, arrogant to the extreme, left everyone present speechless.
In this dead silence, the only one who could maintain his composure and even find amusement in it was likely the one-armed knight who viewed this arrogance as his master's charm.
"Princess, what reward can be gained by following you?"
"It is simple. Following me is equivalent to standing on the side of the winner. I allow those who are submissive to obtain what they desire simply by asking. Conversely, they get nothing. That is all."
This was a question Al had once asked Priscilla, and he remembered it to this day.
Having said what needed to be said and displayed her attitude, she turned her back on the Council of Wise Men on the platform and returned to the center.