I Returned with the Cheat Holy Sword

"...Tch."

Felix clicked her tongue and stared at Carlyle as he stepped out of the room.
She had already burned through a whole pouch of rolled cigarettes, and even that wasn't enough—it showed in her haggard expression as she lit a fresh pipe.
"Once again, he won’t just do what I want."

Somehow, whenever she tangled with that man, she never got a satisfying result.
It wasn’t something she was used to.
Felix was someone who could get anything she wanted as long as she set her mind to it. And yet, she had never met a human who so thoroughly defied expectations like this one.

I want him.
They say people always obsess more over what they can’t have.
And because he defied expectations to this degree, he stuck in her mind all the more.

"......"
Even more so, when that man held the key to stirring the deepest parts of her psyche.
The shadow writhed. The being inside whispered to her again.

It felt like a warning.
"I know, I know."
She was fully aware that her composure had started to fray when it came to anything involving that man.

It wasn’t a good sign.
She was the Gray Cardinal. A hidden power who could pull the strings of the entire continent from behind the scenes.
For someone like that to become obsessed with a single man—somewhere, something was cracking.

Losing composure, when all that mattered was efficiency and results, was poison.
She wasn't supposed to feel. She was supposed to decide.
Just as she often demanded the same of Gray, she too had to remain cold in this regard.
"......"

But even from a detached, rational point of view—
That man, Carlyle Belfast, was invaluable.
She had no idea how many secrets he was hiding. More importantly—

When those secrets were woven together and viewed as a whole, and she tried to assess him—
"...We have to protect him. If nothing else, he comes right after Gray in terms of priority."
He was practically a national treasure.

His value as an ally was immeasurable.
And in response to that declaration, the shadow writhed again.
"Is that so?"

Felix shrugged.
"I like him. I want him. But that doesn’t mean I, like... like him."
The shadow shimmered.

"He’s not gonna show up anytime soon, you know."
It pulsed again.
"......Yeah, sure, I’ve changed a lot since I first met him, back when I didn’t even give him a second thought. But that doesn’t mean I’m gonna go falling for the guy or anything."

...And again, it rippled.
"What kind of half-assed prophecy are you even trying to make? You lost your divine status—you’re a broken remnant."
Another sharp flare.

As if trying to forcefully transmit a vision—a possible future.
"......"
Felix fell silent.

Not just silent—her ears gradually flushed red.
...As though she’d just heard something obscenely vulgar.
But she quickly suppressed the reaction and let out a long sigh.

"—Don’t be ridiculous. That’s never happening, not even if the sky splits open."
She rubbed at her eyes and muttered,
“‘Master,’ my ass. Like I’d ever say something that damn humiliating.”

***
Conclusion Number One.
...Felix must never find out.

Absolutely never.
No matter what.
The reason was simple—it reeked of danger.

Normally I’d just say “what’s done is done” and let it go, but...
If what came bundled with her knowing was obsession, regret, or anything like that, then it was getting a little terrifying.
Even with just Gray as the one currently saddled with "possessiveness," Carlyle sometimes felt like his head was going to explode from her spontaneous outbursts. If Felix started doing the same thing... that’d be unmanageable.

Haaa...
He let out a deep sigh and rubbed at his eyes, shaking his head.
Now wasn’t the time to worry about things like that.

Because something he really couldn’t ignore was right around the corner.
"Just try to stay ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) still."
Gray swept her hair back and addressed both Carlyle and Vespa.

She was strangely dignified and composed—completely unlike her usual self. Even her wearing a tailored formal suit, which she rarely ever did, underscored that change.
"If they find something to nitpick, it'll be a pain. So don’t talk unless necessary. Just do whatever they request and end it there."
"......"

It was genuinely shocking.
To see her moving with such forethought about consequences.
But considering the name involved in this meeting, it wasn’t entirely incomprehensible.

The Sixth Prince—Vigil Leonhardt.
Though a long string of middle names had been omitted, the very fact that someone could officially go by Leonhardt in the royal family signified real authority.
And as the pinnacle of an empire that occupied half the continent, it meant even a Hero had to mind their behavior around him.

Which is why, of course, Carlyle was deeply worried.
Please, don’t let the young lady cause a scene.
...Gray was the type to flip the table if things didn’t go her way—even when dealing with someone like him.

So Carlyle’s job here was simple: to do everything he could to make sure Gray didn’t cause a scene.
[...Hmph.]
But the Holy Sword’s voice from within felt a little off.

It sounded like she was itching to contradict Carlyle’s words.
[Frankly, it’s you I’m more worried about.]
Huh? Me?

Seriously?
What kind of insult was that?
With that Hero standing right there, and he was the greater concern?

[......]
The sword let out a long, weary sigh before continuing.
[You think you're fine, but from my perspective, you're not exactly the safest person either.]

What do you mean?
[Sure, you’ve always been the one cleaning up after me and everyone else when we screw up. Which is exactly why you tend to forget something important.]
The sword’s voice was thick with concern.

[You too... have a few things that can set you off. And when they do, it’s always over something fundamentally human. And once you snap, you don’t care about the consequences.]
...?
He honestly had no idea what she was going on about.

Carlyle was the kind of person who tried to smooth things over whenever possible—unless it was absolutely, truly unavoidable.
[Exactly. And I think one of those “absolutely unavoidable” situations is coming.]
Come on. It’d have to be something really outrageous for me to—

[Do you really think a royal won’t do something outrageous?]
...Okay, fair, but even so, it’s not like I’d actually lose it—
Just as that thought crossed his mind, the doors to the parlor slammed open.

Everyone nearby—attendants, Carlyle, Vespa—snapped to attention.
The only one who remained casually indifferent was Gray, who stared lazily at the entrance.
"His Highness the Sixth Prince enters!"

And with that declaration, a man stepped in—his blue hair slicked back, face annoyingly handsome.
Silver armor shimmered on his body, and a sword at his waist gave off a faint magic glow—clear signs that this was a trained combatant.
His very presence radiated arrogance and confidence.

The kind of aura only someone who had ruled over others their entire life could emit.
Vigil entered the room and scanned the surroundings.
And just from that, every attendant nearby started sweating and avoided eye contact.

Everyone here already knew about the royal family's infamous whims and eccentricities. No one wanted to catch the eye of a ticking time bomb.
Then, Vigil strode directly toward Gray and spoke.
"Hero. What’s the meaning of this?"

"...?"
"I told you to prepare things properly. Can’t even accommodate a simple request?"
Gray’s eyes narrowed instantly.

"What the hell are you talking about? Speak clearly."
"..."
Even with everyone else scared stiff, Gray stared him down without the slightest hesitation.

Her gaze was feral—so intense it made even royalty hesitate.
Eventually, Vigil got to the point.
"I told you—I only want beautiful women on the support team."

...Whether that counts as getting to the point was another matter entirely.
"...What?"
Gray sounded absolutely incredulous, but Vigil just shrugged and turned to Carlyle.

"There’s a guy here..."
Then he glanced over at Vespa.
She flinched.

Instinctively repulsed.
"She’s not even my type."
...And what followed made that reaction completely reasonable.

"Looks like she’d be fun for a single night, but... meh. Kinda mid."
"......"
This fucking bastard.

Carlyle’s jaw twitched, and from within the sword came a deep, resigned sigh.
[...Royals, honestly.]
And she wasn’t keeping that thought to herself.

"Hey."
Gray sighed.
"Cut the shit and go lie down."

"..."
With that bombshell of a statement, the faces of everyone around them went pale.
"If you try anything weird, I’ll slice you in half. Got it?"

...Carlyle wanted to applaud her like a seal.
Goddamn, our girl is the best.
Vigil just snorted.

"Hmph. As vicious as they say."
He clearly didn’t believe she’d really turn on him.
Nor did he seem keen on pushing her further.

"We’ll speak again tomorrow. The schedule begins then."
With that, he disappeared.
Gray watched him go with a scornful snort.

"What a fucking joke."
"......"
Then she turned and looked straight at Carlyle.

"Hey."
"Yes, Miss?"
"You okay?"

"...Pardon?"
"......"
She stared at him for a long moment—long enough to make him visibly flustered.

"...Hm. If you're fine, then whatever."
"Miss, what are you—"
"You just looked... dangerous. He didn’t notice, but I did."

"......"
"Take it easy. Don’t go overboard."
With that, she yawned and walked out of the parlor.

"..."
Ah, shit.
She noticed.

Carlyle prided himself on keeping his emotions in check, no matter the situation. He thought he was good at hiding his true feelings.
Guess not.
And from inside the Holy Sword came yet another sigh.

[...Didn’t you say you wouldn’t lose control?]
Hey, as long as they don’t cross the line, I won’t.
[......]

The sword fell silent.
Because rephrased—
[If they do cross the line... you’re saying you will lose control, aren’t you...?]

Carlyle responded with nothing but a quiet laugh.
...Which, to the Holy Sword, sounded deeply ominous.