CHAPTER 1

The knocking came on the Mansion’s doors in the deepest embrace of the night, when lights had all been snuffed out in the house, when the maids were fast asleep and the butlers had retreated to their quarters—the time the shinobi awaited with eyes wide open and breaths bated in the shadows.

At first, it was but a single, weak knock.

The first person to hear this was none other than the very lead ninja of the Mansion, the one who trained all of the others—one young Hojo Mimori, the only surviving relic of a culture that would’ve gone extinct.

In fact, Mimori had noticed the person coming into the grounds of the Mansion the moment they approached. The darkness of Lenamontis nights was different from the darkness of Yamatai that she was more used to, the darkness that raised her since she could barely walk to the day she spilled her first blood. The darkness of Yamatai was almost spiritual; it was the kind of darkness where monsters peered from beyond the constant veil of mist that covered their air whenever the sun had set. As much as there was fear in the air, there was reverence. The living knew not to touch the dead, lest there be severe consequences.

The nights in Lenamontis had no such thing.

Lenamontis nights were nights of intrigue. As much as there was fear in the air, there was anticipation—and it was this anticipation that kept the ninjas wide awake, including Mimori. It was what allowed her to hear the soft steps making their way through the great front garden, the ringing of small metals clinking on each other, the soft whimper of the shadows that approached the front door, and finally, the one knock.

The only reason Mimori did not intercept was because the posture of the person knocking was all too familiar.

The first hint was that the person was let in. The Mansion was not only guarded by ninjas: Rex Lenamontis Himself assigned a few of the Vindex Regis—His Guards—on a cycling rotation to maintain security around the premises, including watching the gates. The Vindex Regis might not be as strong as the Mansion’s dwellers by any measure (the Mansion was inhabited by the very people responsible for the fall of the Demon King, after all), but they were by no means bad at their job. In fact, Mimori herself was quite sure that her ninja squadron would be entirely slaughtered should they ever face the Vindex Regis head-on.

The Vindex Regis was also clean, from what she could gather. At the very least, the ones assigned to guard the Mansion were. Suzuki trusted them. Why shouldn’t she?

In other words, the fact that the small figure in the ragged cloak could make it into the garden meant either one of two things. One, the guards posted outside the Mansion were incapacitated. They could probably be killed, taken down, stupefied, petrified, mind-controlled, poisoned … any sort of way a person could be incapacitated. Mimori was trained in those specifically, she knew them by heart, and she knew mankind would keep inventing new ways to do it.

The second possibility was that the guards let the figure in.

Mimori’s reasoning was like this: the guards knew of the ninjas. It was one of the things Suzuki did to reassure the King that the Mansion didn’t really need the Vindex Regis—after all, the Vindex Regis were meant to guard the King, as suggested by the fact that their name meant ‘Guardians of the King’ in their tongue. Suzuki apparently felt that he would bother the King if He kept posting His own guards to the Mansion.

The King, of course, declined. Suzuki was the Hero. He was the face of mankind’s triumph over the Demon King, the face of unification of the races—as he was summoned by the Alliance, consisting of not only every human civilization, but also inhuman civilizations like the Elven Societies and the Ferae.

Most importantly, Suzuki represented the power necessary to bring the Demon King to his knees. Should Suzuki have decided to leave the Alliance, mankind would have been doomed. The King had to keep Suzuki appeased, so to speak, so that Suzuki would stay and fight for them.

If the King of the kingdom that hosted him couldn’t even provide guards for this very important person, what would that make them?

Not that they ever needed to, Mimori thought. Suzuki-dono … no, Suzuki-sama is too kind for his own good.

However, Suzuki did manage to strike a deal with the King: the Guards may be posted by the entrance and patrol the place regularly, but they would do so with the assistance of the ninjas. It was Suzuki’s first time showcasing the existence of the shinobi squadron, who appeared out of thin air with just the snap of his fingers.

Frankly, Mimori was nervous about her juniors, but she trained them well. It went very smoothly, the King was impressed, and they finally split their duties: security from the border around the Mansion and outside of it would be tasked to the Vindex Regis, while the area inside would be left to the ninjas.

This way, the number of Vindex Regis posted around the Mansion could be cut to just half the original allotted manpower, while the King could fulfill his wish to protect Suzuki’s home in this world.

In other words, the Guards have allowed the cloaked figure in, believing that the safety of the Mansion from the figure—should they turn out to be a threat—could be entrusted to the ninjas. Assuming the Guards weren’t incapacitated, it would mean that the Guards believed that the cloaked figure here wouldn’t be a problem.

In other words, they’re someone they should let in.

Then, what would make the Guards let them in?

That figure was unlike any Court officials. They looked too young, and their steps too soft—most royals and nobles had to maintain their dignified postures, making their steps somewhat notably heavier. Most importantly, Mimori didn’t think there was any member of the Court, or their families, of that age or posture.

Meaning that the dirty ragged cloak was probably not a commoner disguise. If anything, that disguise looked too dirty, even for a commoner.

No … it was too dirty, full stop.

They were let in not because they exercised authority, then.

What would make the Guards let them in?

Suzuki was known for many things. Not only did he suppress demons on the frontlines, he went to the heart of enemy territory, tamed or defeated the Archdemons who functioned as their generals, and also emerged victorious against the Demon King. But even apart from his entire activities in the war between the nations and residents of the Darklands, Suzuki was known as a Hero because he also fought any injustices he met along the way. He helped people when he could, sometimes even against the better judgment of his friends.

Even against the better judgment of Mimori herself, who was nothing short of a master spy.

Suzuki was a good person. Too good, even, that he would help people at the cost of his own life, though never at the cost of others, especially his beloved. Mimori blushed slightly at the memory.

And, of the many injustices Suzuki had fought, one cause especially touched Mimori like no other.

And it was the cause that finally led to the knock upon the Mansion doors.

Mimori decided that it would probably be best handled by one of the butlers, so she signaled to Eus—one of the orphans she trained for the ninja squadron—to go ahead and wake up Mister Bauer. Mister Bauer was originally from the Land of Diutiscus, a neighboring kingdom, who decided to dedicate his life to Suzuki, and was later trusted to be the underbutler of the Mansion, serving right under Mister Aeolius, the chief butler. Mister Bauer had a lot of compassion underneath his very calm demeanor, and Mimori believed him to be best-suited for this job.

The underbutler awoke, and from among the rustling of the trees as the wind blew by, Mimori could hear Eus whispering about the knocks on the door.

So, the underbutler rose, and with the light of a small candlestick, the underbutler walked to the door.

One more knock. It was even weaker than the first.

As Mister Bauer opened the door for the guest, the cloaked figure finally collapsed.

Mister Bauer gasped. “My Goddess, what is this?”

“That, Bauer-dono,” Mimori appeared right at the front door, catching the figure before they hit the ground—beneath the ragged cloak was but a very young girl, probably not even ten years of age, with bruises and soot everywhere Mimori could see, “is a slave. Tanaka-sama had told the Guards outside to let in any slave who wandered here to find shelter in the Mansion. I believe he has requested this since around a week ago.”

Mimori looked at the metal collar on the girl’s neck and winced. The little broken chains there must be what caused the subtle sound of metallic ringing.

“Can I ask you to help take care of her in the meantime? I’ll inform Tanaka-sama of it come morning.”

Mister Bauer gave a very solemn nod as he picked the poor girl up. “Understood, Lady Hojo. I shall see to it right away.”

*