Episode 109: When the Frogs Croak

Volfirio and his group hurriedly made their way to the warehouse, where they changed into the uniforms of common soldiers stored there.

“For a royal like me to have to wear such shabby, threadbare clothes…!”

Despite it being his own suggestion, Volfirio gnashed his teeth in frustration.

Once they had finished changing, the group left the warehouse and stepped out onto the city streets.

(Should we escape to the north? Or perhaps the south… No, maybe the east?)

Excluding the west, where Garfilia was, the choice was between fleeing north or south.

Or perhaps they should head toward the eastern gate, which was already beginning to open, and slip through in the chaos—

As Volfirio hesitated over which direction to take, a voice suddenly called out to them.

“Are you… lost?”

It said.

The voice was calm and gentle, yet it carried a sharpness that seemed to slice through the air.

The group instinctively shuddered, their eyes darting around to find the source of the voice. And then—they spotted him.

Before they realized it, the figure was standing right beside them.

Silver hair, a jet-black noble’s attire, and a refined face adorned with a cold smirk.

—Who in the world was this man?

The air around them seemed to freeze, and no one could muster a single word.

Only Almants managed to let out a trembling, “S-Sie…!” but his voice faltered, choked by shock, unable to continue.

The silver-haired youth spoke, his eyes scanning the clothes Volfirio and his group wore.

“Hmm… These uniforms have a bit of dust on them, don’t they? But no noticeable stains. They look like clothes that have been sitting in a warehouse for ages, freshly donned just now. In other words—a hastily put-together disguise, perhaps?”

“Siegfried!”

Almants suddenly shouted.

“Th-this man is Siegfried!”

“What!?”

Volfirio let out a cry of shock.

(This man is Siegfried!? Why is he here!? Has the gate already been breached!? No, if that were the case, why is he alone!?)

A whirlwind of thoughts swirled in his mind.

But all of them were swept away by a single overwhelming emotion—rage.

“Kill him! Cut this man down! He’s… the root of all this!”

Volfirio’s furious shout echoed through the air.

Following his command, his closest aides drew their swords in unison. Three of them lunged at Siegfried.

“Die!”

Three blades gleamed in the morning sunlight. And in the next instant—blood sprayed into the air.

“Guh…!”

“Gyaaah!”

“Gah!”

In a fleeting moment, the three men let out screams and collapsed to the ground, their blood soaking the earth.

“W-What!?”

Volfirio’s voice trembled with disbelief.

The extraordinary speed of Siegfried’s hand strikes had sliced through the three men’s bodies.

—Neither Volfirio’s eyes nor his thoughts could keep up with the man’s movements.

“Now… whoever you may be, I can’t simply overlook someone who raises a blade against me.”

Siegfried began to approach Volfirio with calm, deliberate steps.

“For now, shall we have you restrained?”

As Siegfried reached out toward Volfirio, the latter let out a scream and bolted.

“H-Hiii!”

Leaving his aides behind, he fled with singular desperation.

(N-No good… I can’t possibly stand up to this man…!)

Volfirio finally realized it. Siegfried was an existence on an entirely different level from him.

“P-Please, wait!”

“W-We’re coming too…!”

The aides hurriedly chased after Volfirio.

“Oh? A game of tag, is it? Very well.”

Siegfried muttered. In the next moment, another scream pierced the air.

“Gyaaaah!”

When Volfirio glanced back, he saw one of his aides collapsing to the ground, blood gushing from his body.

“Hii! Hiii!”

Screaming as if his throat would tear, Volfirio kept running. His aides followed, and—

“Gya!”

“Guaaaah!”

One by one, screams rose from behind. Those who lagged behind were struck down by Siegfried’s hand—a nightmarish game of tag had begun.

Volfirio ran with reckless abandon, his mind blank.

And somehow, without knowing how he got there, he found himself in a secluded alley.

“Haa… haa… D-Did I escape…?”

Thanks to the sacrifices of his aides, it seemed he had managed to shake Siegfried off.

Of course, he couldn’t let his guard down, but if he could make it to the gate and blend in with the soldiers, he might escape.

The moment that thought crossed his mind—

A shadow suddenly emerged from the corner of the alley.

Volfirio’s heart leapt into his throat. But—it wasn’t Siegfried who appeared.

“Oh… Your Highness Volfirio!”

Keeping his voice low, the man who approached resembled a frog. It was Almants.

“You’re safe, Your Highness! Thank goodness we could regroup. This fortress city… I can’t even tell which way is north or south…”

Pastrier Fortress City was an artificial city designed with defense in mind. Its similar-looking buildings made it a labyrinth for outsiders.

It was no wonder someone like Almants, unfamiliar with the terrain, would get lost.

“Come, let’s hurry, Your Highness. Let’s escape together!”

“D-Don’t come near me…”

As Almants approached, Volfirio took a step back, then another.

“D-Don’t come any closer! You… escape on your own!”

“W-What!? Why!?”

“Why!? Isn’t it obvious? You… you stand out too much!”

Almants, with his frog-like face, had an appearance that undeniably drew attention.

Ideally, Volfirio would have had him wear a helmet to hide his face, but Almants’ head was too large to fit into a standard soldier’s helmet.

A custom-made helmet might have worked, but no such thing was available here.

Being with someone so conspicuous would make blending in with the soldiers impossible. It would be like begging Siegfried to find them.

“A-Anyway… you move separately from me!”

“N-No! In this maze-like fortress city, I can’t possibly escape alone…!”

(Tch…!)

Volfirio clicked his tongue inwardly.

Even if he abandoned Almants here, the man would likely follow him anyway. If that was the case—

“Almants…”

Calling his name softly, Volfirio drew the sword at his waist. Then, lunging forward, he thrust it sharply.

“Gya!”

Almants let out a scream. The sword had pierced his shoulder. Volfirio had aimed for his chest, but his inexperience with the blade caused his aim to stray, missing the vital spot.

“Damn it… Die! Die!”

With frustration, Volfirio yanked the sword out and stabbed again, twice, three times, without hesitation.

“Gya! Gyaaaah! Stop, please stop, Your Highness!”

“It’s because the higher-ups in the Eastern Army, like you, fell for Siegfried’s schemes that things ended up like this! So atone for it with your death…!”

Almants writhed on the ground, trying to escape.

But Volfirio’s sword came down mercilessly from above.

“Haa… haa…”

Breathing heavily, Volfirio looked down at the scene at his feet.

A dark red pool of Almants’ blood spread across the ground.

He had ordered others to kill countless times, but this was the first time he had bloodied his own hands.

Yet the unease he felt was quickly swept away by another emotion.

“I-I have to escape…!”

Muttering to himself, Volfirio turned on his heel and fled.

 

◇

 

“Gu… geh…”

Lying in a pool of his own blood, Almants let out a groan of agony.

“T-To think… I’d end up like this… Why…?”

Almants muttered in despair.

At that moment—clack, clack… the sound of footsteps on the cobblestones drew near.

And then, a voice as cold as ice rained down.

“—Well done, Vice-Commander Almants.”

Almants no longer had the strength to turn toward the speaker. But—it was obvious who it was.

“Siegfried…!”

“Despite having little ability of your own, you managed to ingratiate yourself with Commander Bertram, reaping the benefits of illicit trade. And when Commander Bertram died, you latched onto His Highness Volfirio next. You’ve perfectly played the role of a sycophantic, third-rate villain, haven’t you?”

Siegfried’s voice wove words like a whisper.

“Have you ever heard of the Himeamagaeru, a tiny frog? There’s a species that lives as a freeloader in the nests of tarantulas, those venomous spiders. Despite not having a single fang, it dares to live in the lair of a ferocious tarantula, feeding on the scraps of its meals. Truly remarkable audacity. …It suits you quite well.”

His tone seemed almost praising, yet it was filled with an unfathomable coldness.

“That said… creatures like that are cast aside and eliminated the moment they’re deemed a nuisance. Your end was quite the instructive example of that.”

“What… are you saying…?”

Almants couldn’t comprehend Siegfried’s words.

All that surfaced in his mind was the memory of the day he first met Siegfried.

Back then, Siegfried was merely a captain leading a meager three hundred men. An insignificant figure, someone Almants thought he could dispose of at any time.

But… Siegfried had turned Suneiras’ surprise attack to his advantage, killed Bertram, and seized control of the Eastern Army.

And then, pulling off the astonishing feat of winning over Garfilia, the first prince of an enemy nation—

A man like him could have eliminated Almants at any moment. Yet he hadn’t.

Most likely—to give Almants a fitting end. The ironic fate of being betrayed and killed by the very person he relied on.

“D-Devil…”

Almants muttered without thinking.

Yes—a devil. This man… he was a different kind of evil from a petty crook like himself.

(I never should have… made an enemy of such a devil…)

But realizing it now was far too late.

“Someone… please, help…”

With the last of his strength, Almants raised his hand.

“Even to the end, you rely on others instead of your own strength—splendid.”

With those words, Siegfried stomped down on Almants’ hand.

“Gu… ugh… ueh…”

Almants let out a sob, drenched in despair, regret, and blood.

It was as if he were a frog sinking into a bottomless swamp, crying out its final death throes.

Gradually—his vision was consumed by darkness.

And with that—he was dragged down. Down into the deep, deep abyss of death.