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"What's the real story?"
Rinonkurea Reve-Lusion's abrupt question didn't faze Leongand. It was expected.
The spacious, well-kept office, adorned with lavish furnishings, reflected its former occupant's taste not Leongand's. A portrait of a smiling boy on the wall, a fine piece of art, stirred unease. It was Leongand at ten, painted at his aunt Mirandia's behest. The carefree prince, brimming with hope, seemed untainted by worry.
Irritating, but inevitable. Change came years later.
Leongand turned from the portrait to the window, his reflection in the polished glass a stark contrast to that boy. "Setsuna?"
"Is he really your trump card?"
Rinon's sharp words cut like a blade. When had her voice grown so piercing? Leongand didn't answer immediately.
Outside, leaden clouds loomed over Mardal, heavy with unshed tears. Below, only soldiers in training moved through the fortified city. The office, on the fifth floor of Mardal Tower, overlooked the north a town far from peaceful, hardened by war's approach.
"No way," Leongand said, turning with a small laugh. He hadn't expected such a question. He'd assumed his sister would understand, but it was a low-quality doubt.
"A whim. An unregistered summoner, no matter who, can't be a trump card. Beating Zalwarn's demon, Lankain Byunel, doesn't prove his strength. I invited him because of his mentor—Azmaria Altemax."
Recalling Setsuna, Leongand knew judging by looks was folly, but the boy didn't seem a summoner. Armed summoning demanded vast knowledge and grueling training talent alone wasn't enough. A summoner's presence should exude intellect or discipline.
Setsuna lacked that. He seemed ordinary, though Leongand allowed he might be an exception. Still, his instincts pegged Setsuna as closer to a commoner.
Yet
"Azmaria, the Dragon Slayer?"
Rinon's stoic face showed rare surprise, pleasing Leongand briefly. Her expression quickly reverted to sharp dissatisfaction. "Yes. Connecting with the legendary summoner would be a stroke of luck. Though his 'amnesia' claim makes it dubious."
"Memory loss?"
Her confusion was understandable. Leongand had puzzled over Faria's report too. For an amnesiac, Setsuna's details about Azmaria were oddly specific. He never believed the report's claims outright.
"Probably a lie. Why he'd spin such a flimsy tale, or if he has the guts to stick to it, I don't know."
"Then why bring such a shady figure!?"
"Because he stopped Lankain, preventing worse. Left unchecked, Lankain could've razed Creboul, Merel, or Gandion."
Leongand knew it wouldn't have gone that far. Faria was en route to Karan. She arrived post-battle, but had Setsuna not defeated Lankain, Karan would've burned longer. Setsuna's near-death survival was due to Faria's timely arrival. A delay might've let Lankain escape, leaving Setsuna dead.
Faria could've matched Lankain if she got serious.
"Setsuna saved Gandia from ruin," Leongand said, exaggerating but truthful. Without Setsuna, Faria might've lost to Lankain a slim chance, but possible.
"No need for 'what-ifs,'" Rinon said, her gaze and tone cold, reflecting her love for Gandia. Leongand nodded quietly. "You're right. But I think he's safe."
"Your optimism where's it from?"
Her accusatory tone drew a wry smile. Even as her brother, her attitude toward a king was bold. He wouldn't flaunt authority over it, though.
"Meeting him, maybe?"
"That's it!?"
"And he's under watch."
Leongand stayed calm as Rinon bristled a common dynamic. "Watch?"
"He's a Kamiya. The Association can't ignore that."
He recalled Faria's complex expression when she requested to join them to Mardal. She had her reasons—unyielding ones. Otherwise, she wouldn't have left her post at Karan's Association branch.
"Kamiya…!?"
Rinon's shock, though delayed, was natural.
"Just a possibility. His claim of being Azmaria's disciple warrants surveillance."
Leongand turned back to the window, picturing Barse Fortress in the distance. Its fall, the root of their woes, always conjured one name.
(Kuon Kamiya…)
The summoner who appeared six months ago, the key to Barse's collapse.