“Duke Faust, the Northern Commander-in-Chief.”
“Cecilia of the Windsor Knight Order.”
Upon arriving at Winterhold Fortress in the north, Cecilia met Duke Faust, the lord of this region and the commander-in-chief.
Duke Faust completed a formal salute and then burst into a wide smile as he shook Cecilia’s hand.
“I’ve heard rumors, but you’re truly beautiful! Our soldiers’ morale will soar to the heavens! Hahaha!”
He seemed to have a cheerful personality. Cecilia, however, could not keep up with his energy and merely blinked her eyes in confusion.
“Oh, are those reinforcements behind you? To see so many members of the Windsor Knight Order is a stroke of luck, indeed!”
Including Cecilia, there were a total of 25 members.
A knight was a high-level resource that could change the tide of war. And here, the renowned strongest knight order had arrived with a full contingent of 25 knights?
To any commander, it was a dream force. Faust was already brimming with the desire to march on the Demon King’s Castle.
“Come now, don’t just stand there—go rest. I’ll call you when the time comes. When that happens, just swing your swords hard. You needn’t worry about anything else. Relax, relax.”
Cecilia’s eyes narrowed slightly.
‘Slick.’
This was a summary of Duke Faust’s words.
‘You probably find thinking about tactics or strategy too troublesome, right? Just follow my orders easily.’
It was an attempt to subtly take away the operational command of the Windsor Knight Order under the guise of caring.
Perhaps it might work on other knights. Especially Jerryway would likely be thrilled and head off to drink alcohol.
But for Cecilia, it was completely ineffective.
“Windsor follows only its own discipline. We will determine the timing of battle ourselves.”
“…Ho. So you’re more than just a noble Sword Heroine?”
“I will take anything further as an insult.”
‘Rather aggressive. Direct, too. But perhaps because of that, she might be easier to handle.’
Faust momentarily smiled and adopted a serious expression.
But soon after, his face lit up again with a broad grin as he spoke energetically.
“Haha, no need to blush like that. There’s no denying that you’re an excellent knight—I’ve seen your record. It’s impressive beyond measure. No matter how many pages I turned, your achievements never seemed to end.”
Duke Faust circled around Cecilia.
Like a hyena stalking its prey.
While doing so, he subtly increased his presence.
“But think about it. I’m 122 years old this year. Having spent nearly a century on the battlefield, wouldn’t you say I know better than you?”
“No.”
“What’s your basis?”
Faust stopped walking.
It was a clever ‘either-or’ tactic.
Backing it up with brute force was impossible. As the northern commander, he bore the title of Sword Monarch.
Tactics and strategies, too, couldn’t be ignored given his hundred years of experience, which no one dared to dismiss lightly.
If Cecilia presented a weak justification, it would lead to the critical question: “Is discipline really important in a war against demons?”
In short, it came down to whether Cecilia would become a traitor or simply hand over command.
Faust recalled every possible response Cecilia could give and formulated counterarguments.
Though hailed as a genius of the century, she was still only 16 years old.
Experience was something she couldn’t overcome.
A deadly game of strategy filled with political machinations in every word.
At the moment everyone tensed—
Cecilia opened her emotionless face and spoke.
“Because I’m cuter.”
“…”
Faust froze solid, utterly unprepared for such a response.
How does Cecilia taste?
The knights standing behind couldn’t help but smirk.
There was even a legend that even the most domineering nobles would flee upon seeing Cecilia due to her incomprehensible communication style!
Having successfully subdued the northern commander with cuteness, Cecilia set up an expeditionary camp.
Without any interference, she established a command center close to the Demon King’s Castle by setting up tents.
“Wow, that was truly amazing earlier.”
“Did you see the duke’s flustered face?”
“Hahaha! He looked like a husband whose wife had left him!”
“Truly an incredible debate (論爭). To resolve it so cleanly without leaving any grounds for argument… She’s terrifying.”
The Windsor knights gathered around a bonfire, resting and discussing the events from before.
‘Hmm, was that really such a big deal?’
Beatrice was quite skeptical.
After all, Cecilia currently sat munching on a baguette with an expressionless face, seemingly devoid of any thoughts.
‘She was probably just boasting about how cute and pretty she is as usual…’
Making eye contact with Beatrice, Cecilia tilted her head with cheeks puffed out.
‘…She really is cute.’
“Troll!”
“Ice Troll!”
At that moment, unwanted visitors appeared at the newly completed camp.
‘An Ice Troll, you say? An organism I haven’t seen here yet.’
Cecilia attempted to rise from her seat, but a passing knight grabbed her shoulder and pushed her back down.
Cecilia slumped against a log.
“Here, finish your baguette. You’ve barely eaten anything in an hour.”
The knight wielding a massive axe large enough to fit four Cecilias together announced:
“Move aside! This storm herald of the battlefield will handle it!”
Whoosh—! Kwaang!
The Ice Troll was killed instantly within three seconds of appearing.
The soldiers loitering nearby from Winterhold collapsed to the ground, trembling violently.
“Hahahaha! Herald of the battlefield, indeed!”
“Do you really think Queen would bestow such a childish title?”
“Well, how about Red Axe then?”
“Look at Cecilia’s face. It clearly says the bread tastes bad now.”
But it wasn’t that the bread tasted bad.
‘My troll…’
Would mixing Ice Troll bl**d with juice make a smoothie?
Wouldn’t it be perfect for Beatrix to practice cutting on since trolls are so tough?
Cecilia was happily imagining these possibilities.
But this rotten creature ruined everything!
‘And it smells! And it’s not even cute! And it doesn’t even have hair!’
Herald, on the other hand, had a magnificent beard.
Cecilia apologized internally for cursing baldness and stood up.
“Miss Cecilia, your skirt…”
Beatrice panicked and smoothed out Cecilia’s dried skirt.
Unfortunately, Herald saw this from behind.
“…”
The knights’ expressions grew cold.
“I’ll think about some tactics for a bit. Rest well. No drinking.”
Cecilia disappeared with an expressionless face.
Then—
“Did you see?”
“Not really, she was wearing underwear so we didn’t.”
“So you did see!”
“Yeah, guess so.”
“We should use memory-erasing magic.”
Herald sighed and looked up at the sky.
‘Mother, I’ll come soon.’
Over a dozen knights simultaneously lunged at Herald.
By the time Herald became a sandwich.
Cecilia entered the command control room, sat in the tall chair in front of the map, and swung her legs.
“My role is… to k*ll the Demon King and negotiate a ceasefire.”
According to Cecilia’s calculations, this was the ‘last mission’ before the grand opening preparations.
Once this situation was resolved, the Demon Race side would need time to reorganize, making a temporary ceasefire necessary for the time being.
‘The problem is, if I succeed in killing the Demon King as the leader of the expeditionary force, the credit will likely go to me.’
Sneakily killing the Demon King and pretending to be unaware—
“The Demon King suddenly died! We don’t know why!”
…That kind of incompetence as a Sword Heroine was unacceptable. If that happened, after this mission, she wouldn’t be able to properly prepare for the ‘grand opening,’ which required significant authority.
‘Hmm. No matter how I think about it, using plausible deniability is too risky.’
What should she do?
Cecilia thought deeply.
A way to preserve the title of Sword Heroine while killing the Demon King and negotiating a one-year ceasefire agreement with the Demon Race.
“Ah.”
Cecilia faintly smiled.
She remembered. A brilliant method.
“Betty.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
Summoning Beatrice secretly from among the knights who were roasting wild boar deliciously somewhere, Cecilia dragged her into the tent.
Under the flickering lamp, she spoke confidentially.
“I’ll be stepping out for a bit.”
“Stepping out?”
“Top-secret mission. Also, eat the barbecue in moderation. You’re disqualified if you exceed 50kg.”
“…Isn’t that an unfair standard? I’m 170 cm tall.”
‘After this, I should have her run about 50 marathons.’
Cecilia was a good senior officer who cared about her subordinate’s weight management.
‘No. That’s not the main point.’
Anyway, Cecilia pulled out a ‘Halloween costume set.’
“…Where did that huge box come from?”
“Doraemon pocket.”
“…”
Beatrice knew it was foolish to ask ‘what is that?’ at times like this.
“Can you pretend to be me?”
“What?!”
“Shh.”
Cecilia covered Beatrice’s mouth and pressed close while peeking behind the tent.
“It’s hard for adults to fall asleep once woken. So please be quiet.”
“Yes…”
‘Everyone’s awake anyway…’
Regardless, Beatrice whispered loudly.
“You want me to pretend to be Miss Cecilia… How can I possibly do that?”
“You don’t even need to talk. Just nodding and humming should suffice. I don’t usually speak much anyway.”
“Even so…”
“Besides, getting caught matters only to the northerners. It’s both impossible and unnecessary to hide it from the Windsor Knights.”
‘Our knights can tell it’s not me just by footsteps alone.’
The internal cohesion within the knight order was thorough to counteract sneaky demons.
Thus, hiding it from the Windsor Knights was impractical. However, openly revealing it was dangerous.
Let’s put it this way… The knights’ mouths were worth one shilling each.
“First, inform Betty’s comrades for assistance, and keep it secret from others. Then, they’ll just assume I’m playing a prank and humor me accordingly.”
“…”
Unbelievable, but true.
Cecilia’s pranks were indulged to maintain secrecy, but if explicitly told ‘this is a secret, don’t spread it,’ the knights would surely gossip until the whole world knew.
“Hmm… Is this good enough?”
Beatrice wore a wig and makeup.
“You’re cute too, though not as much as me.”
Beatrice transformed from a European beauty model to an idol center-level figure.
At a glance, she resembled Cecilia enough (her figure had improved significantly) that Cecilia’s disguise skills were commendable.
‘People who are originally pretty tend to look similar.’
This was possible because Beatrice was also a beauty.
“Use light refraction to conceal your figure, and always sit when you’re close by.”
And there was the most crucial part.
Despite feeling deeply wounded, Cecilia picked up the bandage.
“Let’s reduce… the chest area.”
An extremely hurt Cecilia.
*
The man seated on the throne glowed with crimson eyes.
Inside the vast hall, the silver-haired girl stood proudly.
bl**d-red eyes flashed as a heavy, deep voice reverberated through the space.
“The last time we met,”
His voice alone resonated through the air.
Just by speaking, the oppressive power inherent to his very existence was felt.
“Didn’t you say you’d k*ll me if we met again?”
Leaning his chin on his hand atop the throne, the man exuded a casual indifference, raising his red gaze.
“Why have you come?”
However, this reaction was closer to curiosity than hostility.
“Cecilia Windsor.”
Kain Valtazalion.
First-ranked Demon Lord, known as the First Demon.
And Cecilia’s chosen candidate for the next Demon King.
“Would you like to chat for a moment?”
Cecilia spoke lazily, as if visiting an old acquaintance.
“It won’t be a bad conversation, I assure you.”
