Chapter Forty-Seven: The So-Called Companions

When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was a ferocious face—ashen skin, tusked jaws, almost like a demon. Instinctively, his hand slipped to the short sword named Dark Blood concealed within his sleeve, but ultimately, he did not draw it.

“Mia?” His gaze lingered for a moment on the greatsword strapped to her back, which was nearly half a head taller than she, and the Glorifier’s eyes were filled with puzzlement. “Why do you suddenly look like this… like some kind of ghoul?”

“That’s not important,” replied the sword-bearer of the Order in her usual flat tone.

“Not important… fine, it’s not important.” The boy, not yet fully awake, repeated her words subconsciously, then exhaled softly. “What happened while I was gone?”

“Ran into someone,” the girl said, uttering a name. “Willy.”

“Willy?” Amy didn’t react at once. After a moment’s thought, he sighed. “You mean that self-styled intelligence broker, always dressed like an old-fashioned gentleman?”

“Bandages,” the sword-bearer replied, as succinct as ever. “A man swathed in bandages.”

“Then maybe it’s not the one I know.” The young Glorifier narrowed his eyes and sat up, dressing as he asked, “Did something happen between you two?”

“He asked me to hit him with all my strength,” the sword-bearer, at the Second Mark, stated bluntly. “So I did.”

“All your strength… Is that guy still alive?” Even without considering her enhanced abilities, Mia’s strength rivaled his own. For an ordinary person, even with some preparation, such a blow would surely cause internal injuries. “Wait! You’re coming to me now—don’t tell me… did you kill him?”

“No,” the girl shook her head. “He’s not dead.”

“That’s good,” Amy breathed a sigh of relief.

“But that’s not the point.” The Order’s sword-bearer paused. “The point is, he claimed to be your friend.”

“My friend, also called Willy… that can only be the intelligence broker who fancies himself a gentleman.” The Glorifier squinted in thought, then chuckled softly as realization dawned. “That fastidious fellow who values etiquette and appearance above all else would never deck himself out like a man in bandages.”

“He told me to tell you,” the girl continued, “that the Dice House is not to be trusted.”

The Dice House… not to be trusted?

A faint, wry smile curled at the boy’s lips. Such an obvious warning hardly needed saying. He had never placed even a shred of hope in that organization, notorious in the Lower Districts. Yet, limited by his own shallow roots, he had no choice but to walk the path of bargaining with the tiger for its skin.

“And,” the sword-bearer’s eyes grew sharp—perhaps it was just his imagination, “the Dice House has had contact with the Black Guild. This is a trap.”

“A trap…” The Glorifier rapped his knuckles lightly as he murmured. He had always assumed the worst of the Dice House, but he had not prepared any countermeasures for a possible betrayal by Dick. Yet this could not be blamed on mere carelessness; after all, the entire operation against the Black Guild had been instigated by the Dice House. Without their intelligence on the forbidden experiments, he would never have been able to draw the Order into this, nor would he have risked life and limb to target the Black Guild for the sake of a few murderers.

But now… it seemed the Dice House’s motives were far from simple.

Of course, he would not simply trust the words relayed by the sword-bearer—after all, the intelligence broker calling himself Willy was not a trustworthy man either. His reasons for approaching Amy were anything but pure; while perhaps not malicious, who could truly say? The only thing certain was that the so-called gentleman always had his own agenda.

Still, having an agenda could be a good thing. It meant the credibility of this intelligence was a notch higher—though it couldn’t be ruled out that this was all a ploy by Willy and his shadowy organization to drive a wedge between him and the Dice House, leading him to resent the largest and most mysterious intelligence agency in the Lower Districts over fabricated information, and, through a series of orchestrated “coincidences,” to fall out with Dick, leaving him with no choice but to rely solely on the likes of Willy.

Such a scenario, he would never allow.

On the other hand… the Dice House was not a trustworthy partner either.

Caught between two evils?

—Hardly.

It wasn’t a matter of difficult choices. He had always been on maximum alert with the Dice House; he’d simply failed to consider they might turn against him during the operation against the Black Guild. Willy’s intelligence brought that possibility into the open, making it impossible to ignore—it served as a warning bell.

After a long silence, he looked up at the silent girl standing before him. “It’s hard to judge the truth of this information—but I choose to trust Dick.”

“Because,” he paused, “there really is no other choice.”

“Peripheral traps,” the sword-bearer from the Order pressed, not convinced by his rationale. Already at odds with the Dice House, she frowned and pointed out the risk of such trust. “If he uses you, things could get very messy.”

“Are you suggesting we part ways with him now?”

The young Glorifier was not inclined to accommodate her. Admittedly, Dick’s only use was as a guide through traps on the Black Guild’s outskirts; otherwise, he was nothing but a liability. Abandoning him here to eliminate potential risk was understandable, but if they did so, it might play right into the hands of the intelligence broker Willy, sowing the seeds for a future rift with the Dice House.

“This really is a tricky problem.” He scratched his head, though his expression betrayed little distress. “It’s not time for that guy to exit yet. Without the local guide, just the two of us searching for our target in the maze of underground tunnels—it’s almost impossible to find the right way.”

The sword-bearer nodded slightly, signaling her understanding.

“But—” there was not a trace of personal feeling in her eyes. “He’s dangerous.”

“Yes, very dangerous.” Amy did not deny it. He spun his sword with a flourish. “Since you’re a sword-bearer, I imagine you understand—swords are dangerous to frail humans too. Yet both Glorifiers and Vowed keep them close, even carry them everywhere.”

“So,” he continued meaningfully, “danger is never a reason to refuse to use something. What matters is whether the user can control the danger— and I am fully confident I can control him, just as I control this double-edged sword.”

Indeed, with the omen of death upon him, he had stood on unassailable ground from the very beginning.

Still, the girl was not so easily swayed. Doubt lingered in her gaze.

“Place at least the minimum trust in your companions,” the Glorifier said solemnly. “Even if it’s only temporary, during a mission we are comrades who entrust our backs to one another.”

“Understood.” The words left no room for objection, and the sword-bearer resolved herself.

“But still… thank you.” Amy shifted his tone, bowing deeply to the golden-haired girl before him. “No matter what, not considering the possibility of the Dice House and Black Guild joining forces was a lapse on my part.”

The girl, burdened by a silver cross-shaped sword nearly as tall as she was, merely lowered her eyelids and turned away.

“Rest well, Mia.” The boy watched her back, his voice steady yet forceful. “Don’t overthink it. Leave everything to me.”

“Mm.” The girl’s steps paused briefly at the door. “Good night.”

And with that, the door closed again.

“Since I’ve made a promise, there’s no reason to break it.” The young Glorifier sighed, got out of bed, and braced himself. “Looks like I’ll have to show some real skill now, wouldn’t you agree…”

“—Dick.”

His gaze turned icy as he softly uttered the Dice House apostle’s name.

“Oh my, oh my, you caught me.” The door, just closed, opened once more. The golden-haired, blue-eyed youth strolled in at his ease. “But don’t worry, I haven’t contacted the other side. At least as far as destroying the Black Guild goes, we’re grasshoppers tied to the same rope.”

“I hope so.” Words alone held no persuasive power, but Amy had no intention of confronting him now. He merely raised an eyebrow. “Without you, I’m not confident I could get through the Black Guild.”

“Get through? What a novel way to put it.” Dick blinked, mischief glinting in his eyes. “But, Ulysses, you should place at least the minimum trust in your companions. Even if only temporary, during a mission we are comrades who entrust our backs to one another.”

He had no retort—unexpectedly. After all, those words had just come from his own lips. So, he had never once escaped the Dice House’s surveillance; from Mia’s encounter with Willy, to her conversation with him, this fellow had seen it all.

The Glorifier’s fist clenched, as if he could feel an invisible web closing in, surrounded on all sides by the compound eyes of malice—no place in the world left to hide.

For the first time, he regretted his initial dealings with the Dice House.

But it was just a fleeting moment. That slight wavering was quickly smothered by his iron resolve. Amy steadied his breath, gazing calmly and clearly at the apostle before him, the one who could wield the Dice House’s will. “Naturally. People should trust and support each other—don’t you think?”

“Of course,” Dick patted his chest. “We’re companions, after all!”

“Mm.” The Glorifier nodded. “Companions.”

Black and emerald eyes met and, in the silence that followed, subtle, knowing smiles crept onto both their lips.