4

Birdsong tickled my ears. Sunlight spilled through the window—woke me up.

Felt warmth beside me. Turned my gaze to the side.

There she was—Ange, curled up in peaceful sleep.

“Huh… how did this happen?”

I’d definitely confessed yesterday. But my confession was just “go out with me,” not “marry me.” That’s what I thought.

Yet here I am, waking up in a new home with Ange. Of course, we’d already done the thing.

No, I’d tried to hold back at first, too? Like, jumping into bed on the first day—sounds like we were just doing it for fun, right? But then she came on to me… what could I do? I’m eighteen, full of beans, after all.

I kept telling myself it was unavoidable. Still, I’m going over yesterday’s events again—trying to make sense of it all, so I can actually live with it from now on.

We’d confessed and started seeing each other, so we figured we’d better go tell our parents and headed back to the village.

Then we gathered our parents, who’d been resting at their own homes, and announced we were together.

Well, their reactions were just as expected—something like, “About time,” or “Good for you, Ange,” mostly warm and kind.

We’d already been acting like a couple, really, ever since we left the village, so this was probably inevitable.

But then the mayor said something that made me double-check my ears.

“Then, there’s a few empty houses around, so why not try living in one of those?”

Apparently, with more people moving in, they’d built extra homes, thinking ahead. Thanks to that, there were now a few vacant houses in the village.

And he just suggested we make one of them our home.

Of course I tried to object. But before the words even left my lips, they were cut off by our parents.

"Perfect! Ange-chan, why don’t you and Eld live together for a spell?"

"Exactly! I’m in favor. You wrote in your letters like you were already cohabiting—should be fine, right?"

"Seems reasonable. Either way, marriage’ll need a house. Fortran’s got a rental, sure, but having your own place? Feels safer, don’t you think?"

And just like that—already speaking as if we were married—our parents pushed ahead, leaving me and Ange out in the cold, and suddenly, I had a house of my own.

Well, in a backwater like this, ownership’s a bit loose. Whoever lives in it, it’s theirs, really. Once the village chief gave the nod, it was practically decided.

Let’s get the moving done while there’s still sun, shall we? The furniture’s already here—just our personal things to sort out, really.

The village chief, flustered and out of step with how things were unfolding, tried to soothe us with a gentle smile, as if we’d misunderstood something.

But that’s not the point at all!

“H-hey, Ange…”

“Eld-kun…”

Ange glanced at me, trying to find words, and I gave up resisting.

Her cheeks flushed, shy and flustered, but her eyes sparkled all the same. If I’d kept arguing alone like a fool, Ange would’ve looked utterly crushed.

And then—everyone in the village pitched in, and before you could blink, our house was built.

I looked back, shaking my head. Well… there was nothing left to do. Nothing at all.

And just like that, Ange stirred in the blankets beside me. Sunlight creeping in—no help for it, we’d wake up naturally. No surprise she was stirring.

“Uuuun…”

Ange slowly sat up, rubbing her eyes, then looked around and spotted me. She immediately wrapped her arms around my waist.

“Good morning, Eld-kun.”

“Mornin’, don’t greet me while still half-asleep.”

I shook her shoulders a bit, and she let out a sleepy groan, blinking awake again.

“Hehe, nice morning, huh?”

“Yeah. Get dressed, first.”

We’d both been too tired to bother with clothes last night. I’d at least put on my pants before bed, but Ange had stayed completely bare.

She blushed slightly when I pointed it out, tugging the blanket closer to her body. That little motion… oddly tempting.

Huh. She’s… getting more tempting than yesterday?

I’m heading off to morning drills, but what about you, Ange?

…Going. I’ll get ready first.

Alrighty.

Well, girls always have a million things to sort out, so I’m outta here, quick as a blink, getting ready for morning drills.

That’s how things with Ange go—up and down like a rollercoaster—and the long-awaited vacation passed by, peppered with teasing from the villagers.

“What’s the wedding date?” “Where’s it gonna be?” “When’s the baby coming?” They ask me about stuff I can’t possibly plan yet, and I’m left scratching my head, not knowing what to say.

Ange and I are both still in the military, and with the Armunale squad constantly on the move, it’s not like we’ve got time to settle down.

We don’t have time to even think about a wedding, let alone make a baby—would get hung from the rafters by the higher-ups for sure. Ange’s the top graduate in the Support Maid program this season, after all. No wonder they’re counting on her like that.

So, with a shrug and a wave to the villagers, the morning of our departure for Fortran finally arrives.

“Alright, Dad, take care of the house for us.”

“Leave it to us. We’ll keep things tidy and the air fresh. Come back anytime you like.”

While we’re gone, our parents are in charge of the place. Though really, it’s just a quick sweep and a little fresh air every few days.

Nothing worth stealing, really. And even if someone tried, they’d be spotted in a heartbeat out here in the middle of nowhere. So nobody does.

“When do you think we’ll be back?”

“Don’t know. The Empire’s been stirring up a fuss lately—probably won’t be back for a few years. Still, I’ll write, I guess.”

“Of course. Ange, take care of Eld for me, will you?”

“Of course I will! Leave it to me!”

Ange calls my mom ‘Mother-in-law’ now. Adaptation skills sharp, that one… I still can’t bring myself to call her ‘Auntie,’ and the village chief’ll probably be ‘Chief’ for life, same as ever.

“Eld, I’m entrusting my daughter to you.”

“Ange’s a bit scatterbrained sometimes—might be a bother, but please look after her.”

“Not at all. I’m the one who’s always been looked after. Having you around is more than welcome.”

Not just polite talk. That’s the real me, dead honest.

Honestly, with Ange trained to the bone in the Support Maid program, I’ve got no shot at handling daily life better than her. Not a chance.

I’m just gonna keep working hard out here, that’s all.

“Then I’d better be off. Ange, you okay?”

“Yeah… Dad, Mom, thank you for everything.”

“Don’t forget to write.”

“Good luck finding someone as solid as Eld—won’t be easy, so don’t let go, okay?”

“Yes! I’m off!”

The whole thing’s got the air of a bride setting off on her journey.

But one thing I gotta say—just so we’re clear—we’re not actually married yet! We’re just… seeing each other!

I’m thinking that, deep down, as I start leading the horse forward. Ange falls in step just a bit behind me, then catches up, walking right beside me. Her eyes are damp, just barely.

“Why’re you crying? It’s no different than when you left for the Academy, right?”

I think atmosphere matters, you know? Dad and the others are seeing you off on your wedding day—this is the one spot where you’re supposed to cry! I bawled when you left for the Academy, remember?

Still not married yet, though. Or—well, not in a position to be, really.

It’s fine. Plenty of people live together even without formal marriage, especially with support maids. Oh—right, I’ll have to cancel my room when we get back to Fortran. I’m moving in with Eld, after all.

Ah, so that’s how it’s gonna be. Wait—won’t that be a bit cramped?

I’d kind of guessed it’d come to this. Ange’s serious about moving in together. Which means the current place—just a single room for one person—is gonna feel tight as a drum.

Only been renting it half a year, but maybe I should start looking for something bigger.

Still cheaper than two people’s rent, though. Could use the saved coin to hook up a magic cart parking contract, huh.

"Yeah, that too."

The talk we had when we arrived—about the magic cart—was starting to feel less like daydreaming and more like real talk.

Thinking that, we guided our horses toward Fortran.

Fatal Kingdom’s capital. The seat of the king, and the brain of the whole kingdom.

The castle looms over the town center—bigger and sturdier than any building in any other town.

To take it down, you’d have to fly.

That’s what a visiting king once said, back when Fatal Kingdom still stood.

Twenty meters of wall, thick as a mountain, and still you can’t hide how tall it is. From the lower town, you can see its proud, unyielding shape.

Inside the castle walls, a vast garden spread out—home to the maids and soldiers who lived within the fortress, and naturally, Armunale stationed for guard duty.

Up in the upper levels of such a rigid fortress. In one room, heavy air hung thick.

A few men sat there, none of them daring to speak.

Just waiting—waiting for the figure before them to finish reading the reports they’d made.

“Hmm…”

The man—King Gra Norbelle Fatal, ruler of the Fatal Kingdom and highest authority—set the papers down on the desk and let out a quiet hum.

“Bad damage, this time.”

The report before him detailed the estimated toll of this large-scale invasion.

How many villages burned down. How many towns reduced to rubble. The cost to rebuild. Compensation for the families. Repairing the fortresses. Replacement parts for the machines. The list went on and on—no end in sight.

This war, simply put, was a disaster.

We did get something—generators, yes—but they only worked in war. Useless in peacetime, nothing but a money-eating beast. And we’ve got so many of them now, it’s a headache just trying to keep them in order.

“Damn empire. Could’ve settled it with a few words.”

Muttering complaints, the king lifted another sheet and checked its contents.

It was the list of those who’d earned credit for their part in this battle.

Basically, what’s written here is what was investigated based on the self-reported documents Eld submitted before returning to the village—things that were confirmed to be true.

So, first things first—this data’s solid. No doubt about it.

The king’s eyes narrowed just a bit as he looked at the data.

A lion’s medal came out of this battle—two of them, no less.

One of them was someone the king himself remembered.

Logwell Bodwan. One of the upper nobles, and a man whom Sam Solomon, the general-in-chief and childhood friend of the king, had taken a particular interest in.

His name had come up twice before in reports of destruction—now I get it, it’s for total awards.

"Sam. Bodwan’s said to be injured—think he’ll make it to the ceremony?"

Sergeant Sam, asked a question, answers.

“His wounds are severe—he’d struggle to walk on his own. But his mind’s sharp, so if you’d allow a wheelchair, he could still attend.”

“Hm… very well.”

The king mused a moment, then nodded. His gaze shifted to the other recipient, the one still lingering in question.

“Eld—commoner, is he? Never heard that name before.”

He turned to Sergeant Sam, who answered without hesitation.

“He’s a new graduate from this year’s Academy. After Bodwan was injured, he repaired the unit and took it into battle.”

“Hm.”

The file listed four confirmed kills, plus one captured unit.

Unprecedented. If word got out, Eld would surely be hailed as a hero across the city.

And then, Sam added something not written in the report—something quiet, almost to himself.

"This young man, you see, was the one who found the machine during the northern-southern uprisings, three years back, deep in the mountain gorges. So some who know the truth have been whispering—perhaps even the Double-Headed Lion Medal might be in the cards, given his deeds."

"Armunale is mine. It’s only natural the tool returns to its owner. You’ve already given him his reward, haven’t you?"

"Yes."

The condition Eld set for handing over the machine was a recommendation to the Academy. And beyond that, General Sam had gone so far as to squeeze Eld into the first term’s intake—after all the exams were done.

The king answered with a quiet, roundabout nod.

"So… is this man worthy of the medal?"

His record’s as impressive as you can see—so I’ve heard from the academy’s instructors. He’s kind-hearted, always thinking of others. No troublemaking in his year group, and got along well with classmates. Even after joining the unit, he’s been getting on fine with the others. Proof of that? When he had to climb into the mech on short notice, he didn’t balk. Just followed orders, quiet as a mouse.

“Hmm. No issues then.”

The king rubbed his chin with his own hand, paused to think.

(Too strong, isn’t he.)

That mumble slipped out, but no one in the room caught it.

“Understood. Award the Lion Medal as planned. The ceremony will go ahead in two weeks’ time at the capital. Tell the planner to slot it into the victory parade.”

“Hah!”

“Now, leave the room—everyone except Sam. Get back to your duties.”

‘Understood.’

The civil and military officers seemed to walk a little lighter as they filed out of the room.

Even the maids and butlers who’d been tending to the king all left, until only the king and Sam the Commander remained.

“Now then, Sam. How’s the unit reorganization coming along?”

“Troublesome, Your Majesty. The machines multiplied all at once, you see.”

Seven generators had been recovered—minus the two stolen from Salza Keep—leaving five more than before. And now, with pilots dead in battle, we had to find replacements and restructure the entire formation.

That part was proving especially hard.

The replacements would come from the second-in-command of each unit. But just because they were in the cockpit didn’t mean they’d fly like before—no, not yet.

For now, we’ll pair them with veterans—get them used to actual field operations.

With so many veteran pilots gone in the Beta Block, we’ve got no choice but to pull from the other blocks to make up the numbers.

Thinking about that, we also need to pick new pilots for the fresh machines—so in the end, we’re left reorganizing all the way from Alpha to Epsilon. That’s what’s giving General Sam a headache right now.

“Then don’t include Eld’s unit in that reorganization. We’ll take it ourselves.”

“…You mean transferring it to the First Guard Armunale Battalion?”

The First Guard Armunale Battalion. That’s the collective name for the royal household’s personal guard units.

Each member of the royal family gets their own Armunale unit assigned at adulthood, to serve as their personal guards and keep watch around them.

"Yeah. The youngest one came of age this year. Just had to pick a Guard Knight for her, that’s all."

This year, Second Princess Ines Norbelle Fatal, the fifth and youngest child, turned fifteen. As per tradition, an Armunale unit was supposed to be assigned to her, but the selection had been delayed due to the recent large-scale attack.

"Could we reconsider? His strength would be a powerful asset on the border. We can’t be sure such a large-scale assault won’t happen again. I’d really like to keep him near the frontier, if possible."

"A parent’s wish to have the strongest possible guard by their daughter’s side. I understand."

"…………Understood."

General Sam reluctantly gave in.

"That’s all. Back to work."

"Yes, sir."

General Sam turned toward the door. Then stopped mid-step.

"What is it?"

"Can I speak as your childhood friend, then?"

"Fine. What is it?"

The king’s air shifted—suddenly, the room felt lighter, somehow.

Sam turned, meeting his childhood friend’s eyes straight on.

"Gr— I don’t know what you’re thinking. Can I really believe you’re doing this for the country?"

"Of course. That’s the king’s job."

Gra nodded firmly.

Sam watched the nod, then lowered his head once, just once, before lifting it again.

"If… if we decide you’re not acting for the country’s sake—"

"I know. Then stop me. Kill me if you have to."

That was the oath he made before becoming king—the last promise made with his childhood friends.

Sam said nothing in reply. He turned on his heel and left the room.

Gra watched him go, then pulled the king’s air back around himself.

“All for the nation. A little sacrifice is necessary.”

The words slipped out—dissolved into the air, vanished without a soul hearing them.