MROITSOKIAW 31

The thirty knights lined up before Masumi all blinked in unison.

They didn’t understand at all. Like pigeons being beaned, as the saying goes. This was the Merino estate’s great hall, where the wounded had been treated after the Wolves purge. Morning—before the third day’s jousting began.

Today was the final day of the individual matches, the championship bout fought by veteran knights.

Naturally, some of the knights standing in front of her were competitors. They’d already donned their armor and readied their longswords—just about to depart when they were stopped by the Guard Captain, Kasumireaz. The subordinates, obedient to their superior’s order to “fall in,” promptly went slack-jawed in a way anyone could see.

Facing them, Kasumireaz didn’t so much as twitch a brow as he repeated the same line.

“Those who are not competing in the finals will remain here. We will restore your magic in preparation for the team matches starting tomorrow.”

“Captain. With respect, I cannot grasp what you mean…”

The one who spoke, unable to hide his confusion, was the largest knight among the thirty.

He was the one who’d been extremely deferential—clutching Masumi’s ankle as he begged her to become someone’s “dedicated”—only to receive a subsequent lecture from Kasumireaz in the physical language known as an iron claw. Masumi had assumed he was a low-ranking grunt, but perhaps not. The fact that he was the first to pose the question suggested he might even be a unit leader.

Standing beside Kasumireaz, Masumi found herself thinking that as the other knights kept shooting glances her way. Uniformly, they stared at Kasumireaz and blinked, then looked at Masumi and tilted their heads, then looked back again and furrowed their brows.

They were too confused.

Their innocent bewilderment made her want to snap, Are you sure you can protect a country like this?—but she swallowed it down.

This would be a long association—maybe. Even if she didn’t know how long it would last, these were people she’d be working with. Masumi let her gaze drift over each face. Late teens to around thirty, perhaps. She got the impression they were all young and keen, the lot of them.

What they had in common was that none of them seemed used to women.

Her eyes paused on a knight in his late teens whose face felt vaguely familiar. His name was… Riku, she thought. She waited a moment; their eyes met.

And in that instant, his face went so red she could practically hear it go poof.

Masumi’s gaze drifted off into the distance.

Right—two days ago, he’d caught her lounging in the open-air bath like some old man, and then he’d fled at top speed. A flustered, pure-hearted young knight and a musician nearing thirty who remained unruffled. The truly “girlish” one had clearly been him, which was honestly the saddest part.

Fidgeting, fretting.

What do we do, what do we do? What is this? What’s going on?

As those anxious looks crossed between the subordinates, their superior soothed them with a polite, “I will explain in order.”

“The Lady Masumi Todo here was initially contracted for the investiture ceremony alone. However, she has now entered into a dedicated contract with the Commander.”

A beat of silence—then a low, spreading stir.

This time it wasn’t stolen glances: all of them turned stunned eyes on her.

Were they pure, or just simple?

Tempted once again to remark on how plainly they wore their feelings, Masumi instead lightly pinched the hem of her dress and offered a small bow. Thanks to Kasumireaz drawing everyone’s attention, she didn’t have to introduce herself in a loud voice. That was a relief.

“Fifteen years have passed since the Fourth Knight Order was restored by the Commander—Lord Arcres­tave. Twelve years since the last dedicated musician resigned. We have endured long in quiet restraint, but at last a musician worthy of Lord Arcres­tave has stepped forward. You have already understood this at the investiture ceremony: her skill is beyond doubt, the finest in our history. Under her blessing, our Fourth Knight Order will soar to even greater heights.”

Wasn’t that speech… a little too cool?

It was undeniably overpraise, but before Masumi could properly process it, cheers and applause burst forth. Kasumireaz—clearly accustomed to this—nodded with a dignified hm.

When the excitement finally settled, the Guard Captain spoke again.

“Now, to the main point. Lady Todo’s highest priority remains her position as the Commander’s dedicated musician. However, when her hands are free, she has agreed to lend her aid to all members of the Fourth Knight Order.”

“…Huh?”

Whose voice slipped out was anyone’s guess.

The source was unclear, but compared to the earlier ovation, everyone now stared blankly, as if someone had flipped a switch. Even their reactions were synchronized—was that just how the athletic type worked?

“Our Fourth Knight Order’s sorry state… no, our plight, moved Lady Todo to offer this herself. It is unprecedented, but she will assume the role of supplying not merely individuals, but the Fourth Knight Order as a whole.”

“That is… but, still… what of the Commander—”

“I told you at the outset. She remains the Commander’s dedicated musician. This measure is possible because she offered—yes—but above all, it is by Lord Arcres­tave’s magnanimity. Do not forget that.”

“Y-yes…”

“I will say it again. This is an exceptional situation without precedent, but do not misunderstand. You are forbidden from initiating any direct negotiations regarding Lady Todo’s musician contract. Break this prohibition and you will be severely punished. I am the one entrusted with full authority in this matter. Do you understand?”

At the Guard Captain’s sharp glance, the knights’ faces went pale and they all nodded—bob bob bob—at once.

Like broken dolls. The image of that demonlike iron claw and being hoisted into the air flashed before their eyes—surely not only for Masumi.

With a spike driven in as thick as a nail, the knights finally seemed to digest what their superior was saying.

The five knights competing in the finals left with Kasumireaz for the arena, looking envious. The remaining twenty-five turned hopeful eyes toward Masumi.

＊　　　　　＊　　　　　＊　　　　　＊

Entering the great hall just as the Guard Captain departed was none other than Arc himself—the Commander.

At his sudden appearance, the knights’ backs snapped straight. Arc received their deepest salute with a broad lift of one hand, then turned to Masumi.

“So? How did it go?”

“Nothing yet. He just introduced me.”

That music could restore magic—

She was still half in disbelief about the principle. She’d heard the basics, but she hadn’t thought through any concrete method at all.

“I was thinking of just… trying to play, I guess. But I wonder if I can restore everyone at once.”

Speaking her thoughts aloud, Masumi set her violin case on the beautiful stone table.

Given that the whole “dedicated” system seemed to be a foundational assumption here, it felt like musician and knight were meant to be one-to-one. But was that truly necessary? Honestly, judging by their reactions, one-to-many seemed culturally unthinkable to them—but that felt less like a limit of capability and more like a matter of values and custom.

It wasn’t just a hunch.

Last night, she’d been told that the amount of magic restored depended on the number of notes and the accuracy of pitch. The number of listeners hadn’t been mentioned as a condition. That alone was reason to test the idea.

In the same space, at the same distance, sound reached ears equally.

If so, then even if three or five people listened instead of one, wouldn’t the restored amount be the same? That was why Masumi thought there was real value in experimenting with “restoring multiple people at once.”

She opened the case and tightened the bow.

Then she drew out the violin, attached the shoulder rest, and tucked it between her collarbone and chin. As she sounded an A and tuned, the knights watched her with avid interest.

“It’s rare, isn’t it?”

Arc addressed them, and they all nodded.

“It’s a good opportunity. I’d like to let them see it up close—may I?”

“Go ahead. As long as the bow doesn’t hit anyone, they can watch as close as they like.”

Masumi answered generously, appreciating Arc’s consideration.

“This is going to become normal, so if everyone stays that tense all the time, I’ll get tense too. Let’s take it easy.”

“You heard her. Formation dismissed—look as you please.”

As he spoke, Arc sat in one of the upholstered chairs arranged to match the table. He rested his cheek against his hand on the marble-patterned surface, adopting a stance of quiet observation.

The knights, now permitted, did not rush in with any boorish frenzy.

They approached in groups of three or four, keeping order, moving slowly and politely so as not to startle her. They stared, spellbound, at her right hand holding the bow, her left turning the pegs, the violin itself—then let out awed sighs.

So you can behave when you try.

Masumi glanced at their gentlemanly conduct with unexpected feelings. As the saying goes, upbringing shows—this wasn’t something you could do without daily awareness.

Now she understood.

The knights weren’t constantly beasts with snapped leashes. That time, their reason had simply short-circuited. They could obey “wait” just fine—yet she still couldn’t guess what had made them lose it in the first place.

Truly, a different culture.

Her tuning finished before everyone had a turn to watch, and she moved into scale practice as a warm-up. As her left hand began movements closer to real performance, those who hadn’t watched yet looked as if they were witnessing something impossible, their pure astonishment undisguised.

“That Vilarde has such a curious color.”

The one who said it was in the last group—again, the big knight.

“Hm?” Masumi threw him a glance, and everyone around him nodded enthusiastically.

“Violins are usually this color, though.”

“Vio…? Then that is not a Vilarde?”

Ah—she’d used the wrong word.

Masumi stuck out her tongue without thinking. The violin itself apparently resembled their Vilarde, but as the different name suggested, it wasn’t the same thing—so of course the conversation slipped out of alignment.

Still, she’d done this dance with Arc countless times already.

Arc, as if remembering, gave a wry smile without lifting his cheek from his hand.

If she had to start from scratch every time she met someone new, she wished they’d make a pamphlet. Unrealistic, of course, so she opted for the safest answer.

“It’s just what we called it in my country. It’s still a bowed string instrument, so if you think of it as basically the same thing, that’s probably close enough.”

“Lady Todo, you are from a foreign land?”

“Yes. I’m not Albareekian.”

If anything, she was probably—almost certainly—foreign on a different dimension or different world level, but sure.

Masumi declared that in her head with a trace of self-destructive resolve.

She’d only just reached her third morning here, but the moment she accepted that “magic restored by sound” existed, she’d confirmed this was not anywhere on the Earth she knew.

Even if she screamed, nothing would improve.

If screaming solved anything, she would have made it home on the day of the investiture ceremony.

She honestly thought she was being quite calm. If she’d been dumped on some snowy mountain, she’d have panicked far more. But fortunately, she could communicate with people here, they provided food, clothing, and shelter, and she’d even secured work—meaning she didn’t have to fear the one thing salaried adults dread most: running out of means to live, at least for now.

Of course she could stay calm.

The knight, unaware that Masumi was about to reach enlightenment, hummed thoughtfully, hand at his chin. Despite his size, each of his movements was careful.

“I see. If you are from a foreign land, then the wood used for Vilardes must be different as well.”

“What color are normal Vilardes, then?”

“White.”

“Oh—interesting.”

Masumi’s eyes widened.

Maybe their varnish was made of a completely different material. She desperately wanted to see one. Her curiosity rose naturally—but apparently the reverse was true as well, because the knight’s eyes widened in equal surprise.

“From our perspective, that deep, charred-brown sheen is what seems mysterious.”

Is that foreign land unimaginably far away?

Receiving that pure gaze—something between longing and admiration—Masumi felt oddly embarrassed.

“Of course it is. Listen, Nestri—she’s from an uncharted region with no monsters and no nobles.”

A teasing voice cut in from the side.

“Hey.”

Masumi shot Arc a glare in protest.

That had absolutely not been a compliment. Arc, still propping his cheek on his hand, looked thoroughly amused, holding back a kuku of laughter.

The large knight called Nestri looked between Masumi and Arc, puzzled.

“It’s not some uncharted region or frontier or demon realm. I’m from a proper island nation with over a hundred million people.”

“An island nation with a hundred million? That’s quite a boast. Even a child would give a more modest number.”

Even the legendary Rada Continent, at its height, had only fifteen million. A glorious nation with ten times the population of the Albareek Empire—that, history said, was the greatest number ever reached.

Arc rattled that off smoothly, but Masumi’s hand stopped because she understood none of it.

“What even is this Rada Continent?”

“At this point, you may proudly call yourself a frontier native.”

“Well, we were called ‘the Far East,’ but—whatever.”

There was no end to this argument, so Masumi cut it off quickly.

Even if she fought it out, there was no way to prove she came from Japan, an economic superpower. “Lost person with nothing but a violin” was, regrettably, accurate.

More importantly, she didn’t have time for word games.

She’d agreed to do this as work. If she was going to do it, she had to do it.

Her goal right now was to restore the knights’ magic, and she had no idea how much time and effort it would take. She had a lot she wanted to ask and test.

Her warm-up was just about right.

She stopped and turned to the knights.

“Okay, so. I introduced myself briefly, but I haven’t really… had much occasion to deal with people in jobs like knights or mages, so…”

She paused, trying to figure out how to put it.

But—

“As you heard, she’s from the frontier, so Albareek common sense won’t apply. That can’t be helped. So, if Masumi asks something strange, don’t be surprised or exasperated—teach her from the beginning, thoroughly and kindly.”

“Do you think you could maybe choose your words a little better? Anyone? Please?”

Slumping, Masumi ended up appealing to the knights for agreement.

Arc’s line had captured exactly what she wanted to convey, but still—having every reason reduced to “she’s from the frontier = she’s from the sticks” was a bit much.

She could faintly tell he was laying groundwork.

A cover for the spy suspicion that hadn’t been cleared yet, perhaps. If everyone was told up front that odd words and actions were “default settings,” then nothing would look suspicious.

The knights, who lived by a frank and unmistakable chain of command, only offered strained smiles, refusing to take either the Commander’s side or the musician’s.

Masumi resigned herself and bowed neatly on the spot.

“I’m going to ask you about absolutely everything from now on, so please take care of me. And—right away…”

She tossed them the question that had been bothering her most.

How much was each person depleted? How much did they need restored? Was there no visible indicator?

And the thirty knights blinked again.

Even with the most generous interpretation, it hadn’t gotten through at all. A confused silence spread through the great hall. The knights were probably thinking, What is this musician even saying?

And Masumi, too, found herself thinking: was it that her ideas were too novel—so far removed from their common sense simply because she didn’t know it—or was her explanation just too awful to convey what she meant?

Either way, it didn’t bode well for the road ahead.