A Wish to Grab Happiness

Philos' finger, ruler of the autonomous city, slapped him on the desk twice, sounding dry.

The clerk stares at the trick with a tense face, lowering his eyes naturally and looking down. Anyone visiting this room, Philos' office, takes the same attitude at the same time.

That's not a tribute to Philos, nor is it a unique courtesy. It's just pure terror.

Philos-Trait, ruler of the autonomous city of Philos.

A trait is the family name of those who have ruled the city for generations. Philos, the name of the city, and the family name of Treit, the testimony of the ruler. Generations have inherited these two names.

It is only natural to feel a sense of fear for the ruler as to where the citizens might be towards her with that name. But the gaze given to the modern Philos is a mixture of atmospheres that, more than that, repel something tough.

The reason was its origins and background. Modern Philos is not originally the real son of the Toretto family, the ruler, but only the adopted son. It was also treated like a tumor that was barely put outside. Most of the citizens only knew about its existence to such an extent that before she became Philos.

There's no way they're supposed to come around to her like a housekeeper. She had enough brothers and sisters to count ten, and her eldest brother, who was supposed to inherit the name of Philos, was not a mediocre person but had some major problem. He was talented enough to successfully govern the city if the people around him supported him.

So no one thought about her becoming a ruler, and all of this was a degree of recognition that she could be made into some sort of political marriage.

- Until the day she reaches the age of adulthood, when a Treyt family person other than her undergoes death by death.

That was too creepy. If you consider it a murder targeting a housekeeper, surely that is a daily tea meal among the upper classes.

But murder is only unknown, something that you do so you don't know who did it. Even so, she killed and showed everything but herself, as if to show off.

And above all, what the citizens feared. Even though such anomalies had opened their eyes, the servants of the ancient ginseng serving the lord, without mentioning any significance, approved the only remaining girlfriend as Philos.

Without any agitation, as if everything had been decided. The day after that death, as a matter of course, the modern Philos-Trait was waving his whip as a ruler.

That is why fear is always nestled in the breasts of those who serve her and deal with her. Either way, you will die just as suddenly. I wonder if that death will thus be forgotten tomorrow, without any significance.

"I made up my mind."

Philos said, after tapping the desk with his finger a few times.

When the clerk finally woke up with a stiff body like that, he could often see the blunt, shining glasses in Philos' right eye.

Is Philos' right eye born or is it weak vision and overall strong white? Its rare eye color and one-eyed eyeglasses mounted for correction were also among the factors that kept Philos distant to the citizens.

When I'm stared at by those white eyes, I don't feel like I'm being seen by humans. When the other person is a blood-blooded being, it becomes as if they are no longer thought of. A twitch and sweat seep into the clerk's gripped hand. My throat was terribly dry.

I just don't know the state of affairs of such a clerk, pale, Philos tells me.

"- Send a messenger to the general of the Archdiocesan army. I'll write down what's written, that's all."

The clerk took the word to his ear and accidentally opened his mouth. That's a word that came out more reflexively than thinking about something.

"Will Master Philos take the pen himself?

As soon as I uttered the word, I got a look on the clerk's face that even said it was gone.

Modern Philos tends to particularly dislike others pinching their mouths for what they do. The clerk's eyes were distorted that he might be subjected to unwanted reprimands again for releasing such words.

But the words of the clerk are natural, too.

Lords take pens immediately, run ink on parchment, etc., only against those who are in a higher capacity than themselves. That is what we do against the higher nobles and the royalty.

How can it write an autographed letter to a general of an army? It's supposed to be the clerk's job. Lords are sophisticated enough to include content.

In the way he said he was afraid, the clerk takes a peek at Philos. The white eye was there without any emotions.

"Yeah, even when I say Archdiocesan army, the point would be Garrist Kingdom's army. A land power, the autonomous city of Philos is also formerly the territory of Garrist. Then you have to be polite."

Philos turns to his desk and takes a pen. Guessing he was not willing to utter any more words, the clerk gave a courtesy and left the office.

Indeed, what Philos says makes a kind of sense. It's not a mistake.

But again, something like an unconvincing lump of emotion continued to linger in the clerk's chest.

◇ ◆ ◇ ◆

Richard, the old general leading the Archdiocesan advance, waited for two tidings as he calmed down in the tent. The wrinkled cheeks are slightly shadowed.

If we continue marching for a few more days, we will go out to the plains that deserve the battlefield. If you want to crush a crest army, it should be best to stay there than win by number. But Richard had lined up near the streets just a short distance from the plains just to wait for the news.

With a little booze on his lips in the tent, the quiet footsteps characteristic of the military strike him in the ear. Apparently, one of the news has arrived.

"Captain Richard. An emissary came from the autonomous city of Philos. Write to the captain."

Richard receives parchment as he rings his throat in the voice of his deputy, Neimar, who feels as cold as ever.

The text was quite pale. At least for Richard, it's a write-up that's more favorable than a weirdly courteous piece of writing.

The content doesn't go so far from what I imagined. I welcome the Archdiocesan army, but I would like to hold talks about cooperation, even if I try to satisfy the demands of this party.

What, there's no problem. Rather, given the past of the Garrist kingdom and the autonomous city of Philos, there was a fear of being rebelled without an island to attach. This level of content is acceptable enough.

Rather, it is more than expected that it is even pressed to a mark indicating that the lord wrote the text immediately. White jawbeard shakes and Richard's eyes narrow.

"Captain, then I thought you could lick me."

Richard deepens the wrinkles carved in his face as he lets the liquor bottle play at hand. The expression seemed to me to contemplate how I had received this written statement. By his side, his deputy, Neymar, had slightly distorted his eyebrows and blinked his eyelids.

The military apparatus of the Kingdom of Garrist is divided into two main organizations: upper and lower.

It belongs to the superior organization to which the men of the upper nobility lay their armies. They are pardoned for naming the title of Patron Officer or Enforcement Officer, and given the corresponding authority and the status of merely leading the elite raised by the State.

By contrast, subordinate organizations belong to units of lower nobility or human origin. Those who belong to this subordinate organization will not be left more than a captain to glow like a hero in an attempt to give much credit.

Soldiers who can lead, not the elite of the state, but recruit troops and half of them like mercenaries.

Likewise, the Knights are also classified into either upper or lower organizations depending on their character.

There is a clear separation of the upper and lower ranks within the army. There are many things that people who really lead are insulted by the negotiators simply because they are captains.

When it comes to the opponent of an army commander, whether he is an official or a captain, the treatment changes dramatically. That is no different in the title of battalion captain, who belongs to the upper ranks among the captains.

But Philos' lord somehow sends an autographed letter to his captain. How did you receive this? As he closed the letter, Richard narrowed his eyes and worked out the words in his mouth.

"Lord Deputy, I need you to call the secretary. Let me write one, no... two, immediately. They should be close by now."

Naimar sighs heavily when he hears the words and says he's sick of them. They don't shy away from Richard anymore. My wrapped hair is bouncing like a heartless irritation.

"... I'm not your small-timer, Richard, Captain"

Neymar's eyes narrow and his voice slowly leaks. Though the vernacular itself is polite, I even said that its voice color was as if every word contained a bottomless outrage.

"But you're a deputy, Neymar. I guess the deputy will listen to the chief. If you're worried, I'll let you."

Richard says as he still looks interesting about how Neymar is doing. That ear was hearing some noisy footsteps, the opposite of Naimar's footsteps earlier.

Apparently, the second news I've been waiting for also finally got there. Richard's eyes seemed delightful, distorted.