Dark Fantasy: Super Coward Mode

Chapter 151

The first place I visited was the Princess's chamber.

Now that I understood everything, there was no fear left in me.

The Princess was just a half-divine being I had saved.

The Knight Commander and Vice Commander? They could enjoy their sweet love story undisturbed.

That thought lingered as I recalled opening the Knight Commander’s door earlier—only to witness the Vice Commander pressed against the wall while the Knight Commander sat on the floor, clutching her legs as if to keep her from escaping.

Honestly, barging in was my fault.

I quickly closed the door to give them privacy, but not before hearing the Vice Commander’s frustrated protest in a tone far different from her usual commanding presence.

Still, seeing people express love in their own ways was heartwarming, reminiscent of the Emperor’s unwavering devotion to the Empress.

I knocked on the Princess’s door.

Facing her now, with my memories intact, stirred a mix of emotions—nostalgia, nervousness, and anticipation.

What should I say? Should I act as I had before, pretending nothing had changed?

Or should I break the facade and acknowledge the truth?

Before I could decide, the door opened.

Inside, the Princess was gazing at her arm, which seemed to be burning with flames that left no visible damage.

As I stepped closer, she greeted me with her usual radiant smile.

"Raydan, you’ve returned."

Her cheeks flushed faintly, and she glanced away.

"I-I mean, I did ask you to visit once a week, but I didn’t mean you had to come right after getting back."

I see.

I must’ve been gone for quite a while—long enough for her to grow this much.

Smiling softly, I decided to cut through the pretense.

"You’ve grown a lot," I said.

"...?"

Her eyes widened, trembling slightly as she slowly looked up at me.

Satisfied with her reaction, I continued.

"Seeing how mature you’ve become, I’d say kicking the Knight Commander back then was worth it."

She blinked in surprise as I grinned teasingly.

"Thanks for looking after me all this time, little lady... Princess."

Any worry about being irreverent vanished as the Princess, her eyes brimming with tears, threw herself into my arms.

After some time, she pulled away, her face red with embarrassment.

It seemed she hadn’t expected her emotions to overflow like that, but she quickly regained her composure.

"...You’ve regained your memories, Raydan," she said, her voice steady.

"Yes."

"That means... you’ve been to Lintpia."

Her playful smile returned as she pointed a finger at me.

"Raydan Tantan, I, as royalty, order you to become my husband."

Well.

It’s official. Everything’s a mess.

Later, as I left the Princess’s chamber, I couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of exasperation.

With Demeter joining the fight, the immediate threat to our forces was mitigated.

Anyone who died could be revived, so long as it happened before the final blow.

What mattered now was strategy.

I needed to rally the knights, secure resources, and prepare for the Giant of the Snowy Mountain.

First, I headed to Simtol, the blacksmith, to commission weapons.

"Let me get this straight," Simtol grumbled. "You want me to mass-produce weapons for every knight? Get lost."

Not unexpected. Even getting my personal weapon from him had taken endless pleading.

"Please, Simtol. All our forces are gathered, and the Giant of the Snowy Mountain is our last obstacle."

"Don’t care. Whether it’s the Giant or some other nonsense, I’m an old man with one foot in the grave. Find another smith."

Fair enough. At his age, he likely wanted peace, not another war.

Still, Simtol was irreplaceable. No other blacksmith could forge weapons of his caliber.

Before I could plead further, a familiar voice interrupted.

"Oi, old man!"

Simtol scowled as the speaker stepped into view.

"Another pain in the ass," he muttered.

It was the Warlord.

"Didn’t I ask you nicely last time?" the Warlord protested.

"When did I ever agree?" Simtol shot back.

"Same difference!"

In the end, the Warlord’s sheer stubbornness wore Simtol down, and he grudgingly agreed to take on the commission.

As we left, the Warlord handed me a folded note.

"For that headbutt back in Lintpia. Thanks. Saved me from going berserk."

"...Headbutt?"

The only person I’d ever headbutted was the Vice Commander.

"Wait—"

"Got supply work to do! See ya!"

Opening the note, I found a single sentence:

Take care of my daughter.

...The Warlord had just poured gasoline on an already blazing fire.