Let the Whales Fight, This Shrimp is Leaving! - Chapter 59

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

Episode 59
I opened my eyes wide and stared at the man sitting across from me.
“Is the food not to your taste?”
“No, it’s quite delicious.”
“Yet the portions seem to be diminishing rather slowly.”
“I’m eating. Please don’t concern yourself.”
His complexion was far too poor to ignore.
‘Eating, he says. When all he’s been doing is picking at it.’
The evening meal we’d postponed due to Joaquin Perez’s visit had finally happened tonight.
In the meantime, the kitchen staff, who had grown familiar with Deyan in his absence, had prepared food with such care it rivaled a minor banquet.
Yet Deyan wore an expression utterly devoid of appetite, slowly chewing the food in his mouth before stopping, only to repeat the cycle.
It was rather like watching a cow chewing its cud.
‘At this rate, we’ll be eating until dawn.’
I’d been indulging his apparent frustration with his narrow range of movement, but it seemed I’d overdone it.
I surveyed the knights sitting beside me.
I’d invited them to the evening meal in commemoration of their rigorous training with Deyan.
Their appearance—sweat streaming freely, attacking their food with vigor—starkly contrasted with Deyan’s.
“If a man as renowned as the Immortal himself grows so exhausted from a mere sparring session, what’s to be done?”
“That hardly seems relevant.”
My jibe made Deyan frown slightly.
“Hardly relevant? If you’ve spent so much time rolling about on battlefields, you ought to find this manageable, shouldn’t you?”
Ignoring his response, I cut into my steak and popped a piece into my mouth.
“And surely you’ve conducted frequent training and sparring with the knights under your command?”
“I have not.”
“Pardon?”
“Training and sparring—I’ve only done them a handful of times as a child.”
“Why…. Oh.”
I closed my mouth before asking why.
‘I see.’
Whether training or sparring.
One inevitably acquires bruises and small cuts without noticing.
Yet Deyan had said that even a single drop of blood shed by the demon could trigger his murderous impulse—hardly conducive to practice.
I’d momentarily forgotten how he’d cradled his head after a mere nosebleed, muttering that he was fine.
“That was thoughtless of me just now. I apologize.”
“Not at all. It’s fine.”
“Still, your stamina seemed quite weak.”
“It’s not a matter of insufficient stamina.”
“Then what is it?”
“I’ve never faced so many opponents at once in my life.”
“I see.”
So it was simply that he’d run out of energy.
‘He lacks social experience.’
The more I learned, the more it became clear—this was a man wanting in many ways, one who demanded considerable care.
“Have the steak sliced before bringing it to him.”
Seeing him barely able to muster the strength to cut his meat, I graciously extended my kindness.
“Will you spar with the knights again tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow as well?”
“You have nothing else to do anyway. Rather than wandering about idle, you’d better be useful to the knights’ improvement.”
It was evident he wanted to protest—’I have to do this again tomorrow?’
I smiled brightly at the aggrieved-looking Deyan and asked.
“Do you dislike it?”
“Not dislike, exactly…. But would that truly be acceptable?”
“Acceptable?”
“I’m far more accustomed to actual combat than to sparring. The more times I spar, the greater the risk of injury to the knights.”
“I understand. They’ll spar knowing that risk.”
In fact, practicing with someone versed in real combat proved more beneficial than ordinary drilling.
The Plene Grand Duchy’s knights were formidable and well-trained, no inferior to those of any foreign power, yet they lacked practical experience.
We were perpetually on the defensive.
Plene’s military doctrine had always centered on defense, and our knights trained more in evacuation and protection than in offensive maneuvers.
Yet one cannot remain on the defensive forever.
The Adorif Empire’s forces excelled in mobility and siege warfare, with Deyan at the heart of much of it.
‘A man like him would be an invaluable instructor.’
No matter how much I prayed war would not come, it inevitably would.
One need only look at what Joaquin Perez had done to see as much.
And because of the incident where Deyan beat him, the continent would be swept by war clouds.
Learning Deyan’s combat habits and his way of thinking in wartime would prove invaluable. Why waste such an opportunity?
“After all, I’m putting you to good use as a sparring partner, so you’ll have to earn your keep.”
“If the Ducal Princess says it’s acceptable, then I understand.”
My smile struck home, and Deyan reluctantly nodded his assent.
“Will the Ducal Princess also be sparring tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow? No. I’ll be occupied sending Joaquin Perez to Cordi.”
“You’re sending him back tomorrow?”
The moment Joaquin’s name was mentioned, Deyan’s gaze sharpened considerably.
I calmly finished my plate and nodded.
“Yes. At first, I considered notifying Cordi in advance to have him collected, but I think it better to send him ourselves.”
That way, he would appear all the more like a criminal being deported.
Of course, treating a foreign prince such might cause complications.
Yet Cordi had made more than one misstep first….
“I’ll send an envoy with him, naturally.”
I intended to escalate this matter into the light, sufficiently intimidating them.
A problem grave enough to spark continental war would give both the Agavni United States and the Adorif Empire pause.
Moreover, once it became clear that Deyan owed me a debt, the Adorif Empire would likely favor Plene.
Even if it was mere theater, the moment we suggested Plene’s neutrality might crack, their gaze toward us would shift.
My original intention in proposing that little romantic play to Deyan had not changed.
Deyan, grasping my meaning, nodded briefly.
“The timing won’t be off, will it?”
“So long as your adjutant doesn’t do anything foolish, no. It should be fine.”
That was precisely why I’d used his battered appearance as a pretext for detaining him.
With the advance warning I’d given Glay Holdin before sending him to Adorif, if my calculations were correct, there would be no issues.
In the end, everything would unfold exactly as I had planned.
“So you should rest well tonight for tomorrow’s sparring.”
With that, I concluded our first evening meal together, instructed the knights to provide more food and drink, and returned to my chambers first.
Tomorrow would be busy, so I intended to retire early this evening.
“Shall I prepare your bedding?”
Giselle, who had naturally followed me, asked as she removed my outer robe.
“Yes. And Giselle.”
“Yes?”
“How was today’s sparring?”
At my question, Giselle grew quiet.
She closed her eyes for a moment, as if turning over the details of the match, before responding.
“The swordwork was not refined. It resembled the level displayed when a commoner from a mercenary background gained recognition and was knighted.”
“As I thought.”
“Yes. His natural build and strength are formidable, and his speed is remarkable, but his flexibility suffers. His situational awareness was also somewhat sluggish. The most peculiar aspect was….”
Giselle’s voice, which had been flowing steadily through her assessment of Deyan’s sparring, grew softer.
“Even when somewhat withdrawn, the moment he found himself cornered, he appeared to deliberately invite injury.”
“As I suspected.”
I wasn’t the only one who’d noticed.
Giselle had pinpointed precisely that sense of incongruity I’d felt while watching Deyan spar with the knights.
Virtually no sparring experience.
Childhood spent as a child soldier.
Pain accompanying a body that healed too quickly.
Finally, the immense destructive force unleashed when he lost reason and was consumed by the murderous impulse.
Deyan feared his own strength.
Yet he relied on it more than anyone could.
Paradoxically, Deyan had survived thus far precisely because of the power that tormented him.
His survival instinct had recognized this fact and commandeered his body.
Better to be wounded than to die.
Likely he had endured every crisis through the borrowed power of the demon, somehow clawing his way to survival.
It was a terrible habit.
“Tomorrow, spar with real swords.”
“Understood.”
Simultaneously, it was a habit that could not remain in someone who might one day become my enemy again.
Though we now called ourselves allies, should this relationship ever fracture, Deyan would become my greatest foe.
A fighting style that disregarded the body would both embolden the army’s morale and heighten the risk of his rampage.
Moreover, if Deyan ever resolved to commit mass slaughter, the carnage would be unimaginable.
‘Better to correct it now while I have the chance.’
I imagined Deyan’s blade turned toward me.
For some reason, the thought was deeply unpleasant.

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————