Chapter 12: The Hands Controlling The Puppet
Alphonse pointed a finger at Hector. “Guilty.”
Hector had already drawn his sword from its sheath as soon as he finished speaking. He appeared before the boy in what seemed like teleportation and raised his sword for a vertical slash.
The movement sliced through the table, chair, and part of the wall. However, the boy was no longer there.
[Fire Spark]
[Fire Spark]
Two bursts of fire were hurled at the side of the guard captain, throwing him against one of the walls. Hector couldn't recognize who stood before him as soon as he turned his face. Instead of Alphonse, there was someone with entirely red skin and two pointed horns.
The impact of the magic wasn't enough to hinder the knight, but the vision before him left him shaken.
“I-I knew it. You made a pact with some demon!” Hector accused the boy.
“Hey! Hey! How prejudiced of you. Just because I have demon skin, demon horns... demon odor, doesn’t mean I’m a demon,” Alphonse said with a smile on his face.
Hector placed a hand under his now slightly broken armor. ‘How did he dodge that attack?’ the knight thought.
“If you’re not going to attack, I will…” Alphonse started speaking but didn’t finish as the knight advanced.
[Knight Slash]
A blue light was expelled from the sword's tip as it descended, cutting through the air. Once again, Alphonse’s image vanished after the attack.
‘That was close,’ the boy thought. He had used the demon form to increase his speed, but he still needed to be focused intensely to avoid being injured by the attacks.
‘I would have been hit already if he weren't so old. I need to be careful with my plans,’ Alphonse reprimanded himself.
Again, he dodged, moving to the side and letting the impact hit the wall.
[Fire Spark]
‘I’m ready, boy,’ Hector saw the shot coming toward him and swiftly moved his sword to intercept the magic. However, instead of dispersing, it exploded into sparks.
“Thank you very much,” Alphonse commented as the knight closed his eyes to shield them from the sparks. Taking advantage of the knight's blindness, the boy leaped with his dagger in hand and plunged it into the unarmored side of his body.
“Ugh!” was Hector's only sound before dropping his sword.
Hector fell to the ground, staring in shock at the dagger.
“You have two options,” Alphonse began to explain. “I can spend the whole night torturing you, like I did with your henchmen. Or, you can prepare a letter confessing to all your crimes.”
“It won’t do any good. The plan is already underway,” Hector replied. “You’ll never be able to stop it.”
“That’s for me to worry about,” the boy responded as another burst of flames appeared in his hand. “What do you choose?”
The old knight remained silent, observing Alphonse. The boy strolled to the table and picked up a quill with ink and some sheets of paper. As he extended the quill, Hector took it and started to write.
“Oh, and if there’s a lie or missing information, don’t worry. Even after you're dead, I can always find your widow to clear up some doubts,” Alphonse remarked, clarifying he would use any means necessary to get the truth.
With a defeated look, Hector nodded and continued writing.
Over the course of several minutes, he detailed pieces of information in the letter until his hands began to numb from blood loss. His handwriting began to smudge, too weak to continue.
“There. You have everything you wanted,” Hector said, already drained of energy.
“Thank you very much.” Alphonse pulled the letter and read it in detail. “Interesting. One twist after another.”
The boy withdrew the dagger from the guard captain’s stomach and quickly sliced the knight's throat, causing one last jet of blood before he collapsed.
“All right. Now, how do I do this?” he asked himself, looking around the office. The boy freed the tied-up soldiers and scattered them around the room. He folded the paper and placed it inside the knight's armor.
“Hope this survives,” he commented before heading to the door.
Alphonse then raised both arms and fired dozens of flaming bursts until the office was ablaze. A few minutes later, the bells began to ring, and soldiers ran back and forth, carrying water to extinguish the fire.
The boy didn’t stay to see the result; he was already feeling sleepy and preferred to go to bed.
“THUM THUM THUM”
Alphonse woke up the following day to knocks on his door. He was still wearing his bloodstained clothes, with some slightly charred hair.
“What is it?” he asked from behind the door.
“Young master, the Baroness is summoning you to the main office,” one of the soldiers replied before leaving.
Alphonse had already expected something like this. ‘Even more so if the letter survived,’ the boy thought.
He quickly entered the bathroom, cleaned himself up, and headed to the main office. For the first time, he arrived without hearing his mother yelling at someone.
‘Looks like I solved part of the stress,’ he thought cheerfully.
As he entered the room, he saw Isabelle staring intently at the paper on the table, both hands supporting her head. Her expression was one of evident despair.
“Alphonse. Son, how are you?” Isabelle asked.
“I’m fine, mother. Thank you. As soon as I heard what happened, I came to your office,” the boy replied.
“Great. How much do you know?” the baroness asked.
“I know there was a fire at the fort. The servants were talking about it,” Alphonse explained.
“Son, I will explain what happened, some suspicions I already had, and where we stand,” Isabelle began. “You’ve shown interest in handling these lands, and all these events will heavily impact you, so it’s only fair that you see everything that’s going on.”
“Of course,” the boy sat in one of the chairs.
“Last night, at the barracks, we don’t know the exact time. The guard captain entered into a fight with four other soldiers,” Isabelle explained. “It seems Hector wanted to negotiate his confession in exchange for protection for his widow and children.”
‘That was my doing. The letter needed to seem real,’ Alphonse thought.
“The soldiers must have suspected something and engaged in combat. Somehow, the fire started and consumed almost the entire room, leaving behind only a few papers, including the confession.” Isabelle slid the paper in front of her toward the boy.
“It seems Hector and the other soldiers were paid to harm the territory,” the baroness recounted as she looked out the window. “For weeks now, we’ve had fires in some fields, thefts of goods and grain, not to mention various other small issues I’ve been pushing for a solution to.”
“But why did they want to harm us? Just for gold?” the boy asked, pretending not to know the answer.
“Hm,” Isabelle cleared her throat, preparing to speak. “They were… under orders from Alexander.”
“Father? Why?” Alphonse asked, pretending to be irritated.
“Apparently, he wants to return from Kaiserstadt before the barbarians attack. If the territory were in bad shape, he’d have a reason to retreat,” the baroness explained. For a few seconds, both were silent until Isabelle slammed her fist on the table. “That son of a bitch.”
[Mind Influence] This was his worst betrayal.
[Mind Influence] Worse than his involvement with the servant.
[Mind Influence] The only man in your life is your son.
[Mind Influence] Only your son deserves you.
The table shook with the force of the blow.
“Sorry, Al,” she said, calming herself.
“B-but how does he know about the barbarian attack? And what does he gain from returning?” Alphonse asked.
“I don’t know,” Isabelle replied.
“He wouldn’t be betraying the empire, would he?” the boy asked, trying to steer his mother toward the answer.
“...maybe. But it’s better if this conversation doesn’t leave this room. Not even your sister can know,” the baroness commented. “If anyone finds out, the House Hohenberg could be seen as traitors.”
“Yes…” the boy responded.
Isabelle rested her head in her hands again. Her concern was visible, one foot tapping nervously.
Alphonse stood up and walked over to his mother. From behind her chair, he hugged Isabelle, comforting her. “Don’t worry. I’m here, and we’ll find a solution.”
The baroness took advantage of the hug to relax. The last few months had drained all her energy. Just as things were starting to improve, she received a letter proving her husband’s betrayal of the empire.
They remained embraced for a few minutes until Isabelle composed herself.
“Al, I didn’t want to put this burden on you,” Isabelle said. “But I need help.”
“Don’t worry, mother. I’m here for that,” the boy replied.
“Great. What are our next steps?”