"Mr. Higashino."
"Um."
How long do you plan to stay in the Dragon Kingdom?
"I don't know, but it won't be long. You asked me before."
"Then... will angels follow you?"
"No, those angels are a gift to you. Why would you take back a gift you've given away? Why would you think that?"
"After all, it's too precious. I don't think I'm worth that price."
Higashino Makoto's hand movements did not stop, but he lightened the pressure.
"Don't worry. I won't ask for anything back after I've given it away."
"Okay, I believe you..."
Draudillon's lips curled up slightly.
"You didn't believe me before? You even gave yourself to me."
Higashino Makoto pursed his lips helplessly, feeling somewhat annoyed.
"Even if you don't send me an angel, I would be willing to do so simply for the merit of saving the city and destroying the Orc army."
The candlelight flickered between the two, casting swaying shadows on the wall.
Outside the window, the night wind rustled the leaves.
In the distance, the lights of the Royal Capital twinkled in the night, like stars on the ground.
In this room, a dark-haired man is clumsily combing the hair of a dark-haired girl.
The movements were very light and slow.
It was as if they were handling something precious.
The following day, Draudillon made a high-profile announcement.
The "gods" protected the Dragon Kingdom and left twelve angels to guard the country.
The message was relayed to every corner of the Dragon Kingdom by the royal messenger at top speed.
"The gods have unleashed divine punishment, annihilating the invading Orc army!"
"The gods have sent twelve angels to protect every inch of the Dragon Kingdom!"
"From this day forward, any enemy who dares to invade the Dragon Kingdom will be reduced to ashes by the flames of the angels!"
When the news reached the places where people were first silent, they then erupted in deafening cheers.
Someone is crying in the street.
Some people knelt in the square, praying towards the direction of the Royal Capital.
Some people were holding their children tightly, tears streaming down their faces, yet they were smiling like children.
"Don't be afraid."
They said to the children.
"Don't be afraid anymore. Angels will protect us. Gods will protect us."
The child doesn't understand what "gods" or "angels" are.
But they saw their parents laughing, crying, trembling, and hugging.
Then they laughed too.
Draudillon did not say who the "god" was.
She didn't say the man's name, where he came from, or what he wanted.
She just said--
The gods protected the Dragon Kingdom.
That's enough.
Ordinary people don't need to know too much. They only need to know this much.
It's safe now.
No more fear. No more watching your children being drafted into battle every year, only to receive a letter, a flag, or nothing at all.
That's enough.
Of the twelve angels, two remained in the Royal Capital to guard the royal city, while the rest were dispatched to various cities to patrol the city walls day and night.
Their appearance allowed the people of the Dragon Kingdom to experience what "safety" meant for the first time.
It's not the kind of security where there are "no enemies for the time being," but a kind of security where "no matter what enemy comes, there's nothing to fear."
Because those angels were too powerful.
They are so powerful that it's unimaginable what enemy could defeat them.
So strong it's believable.
The gods truly exist, and they truly protect the Dragon Kingdom.
When the news reached the border, the soldiers stationed there wept.
Those veterans who had spent their lives licking blood from the edge of a knife, those tough guys who were used to life and death and to seeing flesh and blood flying everywhere, cried like children the moment they saw the angel descend.
"Finally... finally we don't have to fight anymore..."
An old soldier knelt on the ground, his hands covering his face, his shoulders trembling violently.
"Finally, I can go home..."
No one laughed at him.
Because everyone is just like him.
Higashino Makoto stayed in the Dragon Kingdom for a week.
He did not leave the palace for a whole week.
It wasn't because he didn't want to go out, but because there was no need.
He had strolled through the streets of the Royal Capital, visited the markets, taverns, and even explored the food stalls hidden deep in the alleys.
However, it is in the form of Amon Nicola.
After all, Higashino Makoto's reputation as the "Silver Paladin" is still quite prominent, and people with black hair and black eyes are not common in this world.
Sometimes I wonder, what if someone knew that I was the "god" who destroyed the Orc army and left behind twelve angels?
If he were to merely appear on the street, people would likely kneel down, pray, and worship him as a god.
He didn't like that feeling.
Moreover, he preferred the palace.
During the day, he would sit in an armchair by the window, reading, drinking tea, or daydreaming.
Occasionally, I would go to the royal palace's training grounds to stretch my muscles or to check on the angels' patrols.
In the evenings, he would sometimes go to Draudillon's room, and sometimes he would have Kurumi come to keep him company.
Draudillon said nothing about it.
She simply waits a little longer each night when she combs her hair at the vanity.
Wait until those hands took the comb from hers, until those jet-black hairs fell to her shoulders, until that deep voice rang in her ear.
Are you tired today?
"Fine."
"You're lying. Your dark circles are worse today than yesterday."
"You've misunderstood."
"I didn't see wrong."
You've misunderstood.
"Draudillon."
"Um."
"Approve fewer documents tomorrow, go to bed early."
"Good."
The next day, she would still review the same number of documents, stay up all night, and still appear at the breakfast table with dark circles under her eyes.
Higashino Makoto looked at her, shook his head helplessly, but said nothing more.
This was her choice.
She chose to be a diligent, responsible queen who didn't depend on anyone.
He respected her choice.
Kurumi's side, however, has a completely different art style.
Every night, while Draudillon was handling government affairs and reviewing documents, Kurumi would appear on time at the door of Higashino Makoto's room.
She was dressed in a black and white maid outfit, holding a pot of hot tea in her hand, her right eye half-closed, and a half-smile playing on her lips.
"Sir, the tea is here."
"Put it on the table."
"Yes."
She placed the teapot on the table, poured a cup, and handed it to Higashino Makoto.
Higashino Makoto took the teacup and took a sip.
"The tea tastes a little different today."
"I switched to a different type of tea. I bought it from a tea shop in the Royal Capital, which is said to be a century-old establishment."
"Good."
"Thank you for the compliment, sir."
Then she would sit in the chair opposite Higashino Makoto, holding a book in her hands, and read quietly.
The black cat "Zafkiel" sat on her lap, purring softly.
The room was quiet, with only the sound of turning pages and the soft clinking of a teacup against the table.
But sometimes, the silence is broken.
For example, when Higashino Makoto feels bored.
Kurumi.
"Exist."
"Come over."
Kurumi put down her book, stood up, and walked over to him.