Chapter 126. Review (1)
The unofficial meeting venue was on the upper floors of a 50-story luxury hotel.
Among the buildings in Pangaeon’s city center, it was reportedly the most prestigious, often used for such gatherings.
“Perimeter sweep complete, Enoch Elsyde!”
One of the patrol members approached, reporting loudly. I glanced at him and nodded.
“Good work.”
“Yes, sir. Captain Equistelle’s team seems to be done too.”
I touched my earset, nodding.
With both the Order and the mining city’s representatives attending, Equistelle and I were forming a joint front for this meeting.
One surprising factor was Equistelle’s support.
“Since the Saintess’s escorts caused trouble and were disbanded, you’re short-handed. I’ll assign capable patrol members to assist.”
For the meeting’s preparations, she’d temporarily delegated partial patrol command to me.
Her bold decision caught me off guard, but being trusted like this was far from bad.
“Hmph, what’s up? All done?”
“Looks like it. Preparations seem complete.”
I nodded wearily to Sirocco, perched on the limousine’s trunk.
After hours of disinfecting the venue, deploying patrol personnel, and securing nearby danger zones, we were finally ready.
Detection-magic users among the patrol ensured airtight security, and my repeated checks of the facility and surroundings confirmed no threats to the Saintess’s safety.
“Then I’ll wait here. Go do your thing.”
I nodded to Sirocco, still on the limousine, and followed the white-veiled girl—the Saintess.
Her usual white ceremonial attire, blending nun’s robes and a dress, bared her shoulders. The delicate shoulder blades and pale skin caught my eye.
Feeling a twinge, I turned away, asking expressionlessly.
“Why isn’t Sirocco joining us?”
“Meetings require decorum. Her beast-kin nature might provoke bias, so we must be cautious.”
Fair point. Unavoidable for now.
Passing through the glass revolving doors, the Saintess entered the opulent hotel lobby, approaching the front desk to state our purpose.
The hotel manager, visibly awed, handed her a card key with a tense posture.
When she smiled and thanked him, the manager’s face lit up, as if embodying the phrase “overwhelmed with emotion.”
In the elevator, she inserted the card key, pressing a hidden button for the top floor.
The antique elevator indicator clicked as we ascended.
Glancing back, I noticed her shoulders trembling. I asked quietly.
“You seem nervous. You okay?”
“You’re quite attentive to your follower family, Enoch.”
“…The escort mission isn’t over yet.”
“Is that so?”
“And as follower family, we should support each other.”
“Well said. I am your follower family, after all.”
As if savoring the fact, she spoke clearly, her trembling shoulders now still.
The elevator doors opened, revealing a grand hallway. Amelia glanced at me, smiling.
“Your words are quite reassuring.”
As we reached the meeting room’s doors, she turned, narrowing her eyes with a faint smile.
“Then I’ll show you a performance worthy of your follower family.”
I nodded slowly.
My words hadn’t carried deep intent, but for Amelia, the new bond as my follower family seemed profoundly reassuring.
Four hours later, the meeting concluded.
The outcome was reasonable: the mining city promised the Order fair compensation for medical aid.
It was clear Amelia had secured influence within the Order, and her first political exchange had succeeded.
***
The floor below the hotel’s top level had a large balcony.
After escorting Amelia to her assigned room, I trudged there, leaning against the wall’s corner and breathing shallowly.
With the schedule done, I could finally relax.
The sunset was fading outside.
Even Sirocco, with her beast-kin stamina, seemed exhausted and had returned to her room, rubbing her eyes.
But I couldn’t rest yet. Gathering my tired thoughts, I sank into reflection.
It doesn’t feel real.
The escort mission and making Amelia my follower family felt like a whirlwind.
A breeze on the balcony tousled my hair. The crisp air was refreshing.
A familiar voice mixed with the wind.
“Looking beat, doc.”
Equistelle sat in a chair. With the official schedule over and my escort duty done, she’d come to unwind. She’d been commanding guards while escorting an elder at the meeting.
“I heard during the summit. You and Am got cozy, huh? Official announcement’s pending your return?”
“Probably.”
“You both worked hard.”
“Yeah.”
I zoned out, wondering if Amelia had bragged about becoming my follower family during the meeting. Equistelle’s voice snapped me back.
“Thanks for the help, doc.”
“Your guys already thanked me.”
“Doesn’t mean I skip it. I’m not that shameless, though my team might think so.”
Sitting on the balcony chair, legs crossed, she propped her cheek on one hand, looking at me.
“Even if it was the Saintess’s request, you helped our city big time. Without you, those Order escorts’ schemes could’ve played the whole city.”
Her gruff thanks carried raw sincerity.
Knowing she only spoke sincerely, I nodded, leaning against the wall.
“Honored to hear that from you.”
Half-true. In the original story, Equistelle wasn’t playable but made jaw-dropping martial feats in main episodes.
Her depiction screamed overpowered.
> “—Equistelle single-handedly held off 3,000 imperial troops in the Reed Plains, keeping them at bay for over five hours without killing a single one.”
That made her praise feel surreal.
What’s it like to be recognized by a powerhouse? Feeling odd about my emotions, I crossed my arms against the wall.
“So, just verbal thanks?”
“Of course not. I’ll give you some valuable info as repayment.”
I’d asked half-jokingly, but her positive response made me tilt my head.
“Info?”
“Yeah. I have a disciple. Uses a lance-type magical gear like me, about your age.”
“A disciple.”
“Yup. Pure kid. Total opposite of you.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
She smirked subtly, continuing.
“Focus on the lance gear. It’s not something anyone can wield, though it’s awkward to say with my main weapon.”
She pulled her bombardment lance from the balcony planter, tapping it on the ground.
The massive, matte-black magic stone alloy lance looked unwieldy by its size and mechanics alone.
“Looks like it.”
“To use this, you need some talent in body-enhancing magic, though nowhere near your beast-kin follower.”
Her words sparked a memory from the original story. That’s right.
“…Come to think of it, bombardment lance users are often tied to the military.”
“Correct. Usually from Main House territories or the imperial army. They can handle close combat or long-range firepower, but without formal training, they’re tough to use.”
She replanted the lance in the soil, leaning her arms on her knees.
“Point is, doc, my disciple’s a well-trained combat mage who can handle this tricky gear.”
A sudden realization hit me like lightning.
‘Her disciple… could it be her ?’
In the original, only one person used a bombardment lance and served in the military, described as Equistelle’s disciple. To hear it here.
Despite knowing her identity, I’d been so focused on mission events that I hadn’t connected the dots until now.
“…You don’t seem old enough to have a disciple. Interesting.”
“I’m no academia professor studying magic to the bone. I taught her practical skills and gear handling. Age or prestige doesn’t matter.”
“That’s my style.”
She chuckled silently, shrugging as if proposing.
“She’s graduated from the military academy and serves in the Victoria army. I vouch for her skill. I trained her to the brink of Rank 10.”
“So, what’s with bringing up your disciple?”
“Simple. I think she’d be highly valuable as someone’s follower family, especially for an Elsyde combat leader.”
She glanced at me, smirking subtly.
“Interested, doc?”
I couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Gonna put in a good word for her?”
“Yup. From what I’ve seen, you and your squad seem worthy of my recommendation as her mentor.”
“There are bigger squads out there.”
She sighed, shaking her head.
“Not all squads are pure, doc. You know that.”
“Well…”
“Worse, joining a rotten leader’s follower family often means being exploited, drained, and discarded—especially if you’re just strong.”
I glanced at her.
“…Personal experience?”
No answer.
In the balcony’s shadowed ceiling, Equistelle slowly closed and opened her eyes, her silence carrying affirmation.
That such a powerhouse implied this made my chest feel heavy.
“I don’t want my disciple to end up like that. Especially since she’s clueless about this stuff.”
“Choosing for your disciple’s sake?”
“Partly, but headhunting’s always key for Main House direct descendants, right? Consider it my thanks.”
“…Fair enough.”
Her point was undeniable, and I nodded. Her offer was genuinely appreciated.
For someone like me, needing to recruit follower families and strengthen my squad, it was perfect. But one question lingered.
“I get it, but one thing. What made you judge me like that?”
“…Surprisingly suspicious. Or cautious?”
Equistelle stepped to the balcony railing, resting a hand on it, glancing at me.
I stared, asking.
“Just curious, personally.”
No calculations, just honest curiosity. Beyond my notoriety, what potential did Equistelle see in me?
“Simple.”
Turning, she leaned her arms and back against the railing. Her hair fluttered in the breeze, reflecting the crimson sunset.
“Most wouldn’t push for a meeting, even for the Saintess. It was a risky move, meddling in the Order’s internal issues with only downsides for you…”
She glanced down at the city below.
“But you went beyond profit and loss. Thanks to that, we benefited too.”
I followed her gaze to the city.
Citizens were bustling out of underground bunkers, with patrols stationed but no need to intervene—the city had calmed.
“Thanks to you stopping that black mage behind the beasts, the city might return to normal faster than expected. You might even deserve hero status.”
“Pass. That wasn’t my intent.”
“People are judged by actions, not intentions. Harsh, but worth remembering.”
She smiled silently.
“Honestly, I don’t know your strength. I haven’t seen it. But I can vaguely sense the direction you’re heading.”
“So you’re recommending your disciple?”
“Yup. Strength alone achieves nothing in the empire. Even Rank 1s who could shatter mountains or evaporate seas can’t ignore allied squads.”
She nodded, turning to me.
“Your squad might be outclassed now, but I like you and yours. As long as you, the leader, don’t lose your way.”
Lose my way. I didn’t respond, looking into the distance.
Ixion’s offer to join Vendetta echoed in my mind. Was Equistelle hinting at that possibility?
That shouldn’t happen, of course.
“What’s next?”
At her question, I looked up. As always, a plan was set.
“…Move to the next phase.”
Specifically, responses based on review.
My thoughts sank coldly, already looking to the future. The main storyline’s start was approaching, but I was still lacking in many ways.
My personal growth was too slow.
In the Ixion fight, inheriting the Sword Saint’s technique relied heavily on luck.
What if the rushed inheritance hadn’t been [Lethal Strike] but another form?
The situation would’ve been exponentially tougher.
It was time to reflect on my growth methods, refine, and prepare.
And finding those answers no longer required solitary brainstorming.
I gazed at the burning sunset beyond the horizon with blue-black eyes.
It was time to meet the Last Sword Saint of the Empire again.