Time was a fickle mistress.
Even without Gabrielle or Maou Midori around, it rushed past them one moment, only to stop in the next. Konrad couldn't tell what face Eyna made anymore, too flustered to check.
Likewise, the girl was completely still, her hand trapped between them.
She didn't move, only her fingers trembled. And as the awkward silence stretched too thin—
Konrad's mind raced, trying to comprehend the situation.
She was always a beauty, ever since they first met. Even emaciated and broken, she had the aura of a tribal chieftess. She was smart, kind, loyal, and—did he say beautiful already?
Wasn't he a scumbag, using her all this time?
And this was him cheating on two wives at once, which itself sounded ridiculous.
But Eyna was with him and was the most useful woman in his harem, way before he married.
She deserved better in every meaning of the word. Better than Konrad, too.
But when did his harem actually become one, and how did he miss it? He was always too preoccupied with all the trouble, but the signs should have been there. It was absurd.
Like, Eyna was one thing. And Gabrielle married him out of political maneuvering.
But there was Stella and Maple, too.
Okay, Maple or Kaede was also Lily from another time, so she sure had herself represented in there. But he couldn't shake the feeling that he was the enemy of womankind for some reason.
Konrad, the womanizer.
A big, fat, huge—
"W-what the hell is that?" he asked about the ominous shape towering above the pass. He stared at it for a while, but only now did he start to see. "A colossus? When did we build such a thing?!"
Though unintentional, this also broke their awkward spell.
Eyna even leaned closer to take a peek through his side.
"Ah, that's the golem Lord Nimrod had made, Master," she answered as if that were the most natural thing to say. It was not. And when she realised she was too close, she jolted again.
But Konrad was faster, seizing her hand to squeeze it and prevent her escape.
It might have been a mistake, as the steamy awkwardness returned.
"W-would you elaborate?" he asked, trying and failing to sound casual.
Whether it was the wheels clattering or their heartbeats, the rhythm of time sped up again.
Eyna cleared her throat, both melting against him and looking the other way.
"When, um, Lady Stella took over, the nomads would assault the pass," she tried her best to explain. "A few men flanked them, and she forced your twin to create that thing, Master."
The word 'forced' stuck with him.
"How does one force that arrogant shaman to do anything?!"
She let out a giggle, but it was more out of embarrassment than a real laugh.
At least that was his guess since he felt something very similar.
"She has her methods, Master. But you should ask her about them instead," she noted. "All I know is that she kept feeding this golem with life essence until its vitality was too great for—"
"Wait, hold on, she did what?!" Konrad interrupted.
He turned to stare Eyna into her eyes, but that was another mistake.
It got them both flustered all over again, his voice dropping to a whisper.
"Was she using necromancy in front of so many people?" he gritted out, trying to find a fixed point he could look at. Well, that golem was an easy target. "Had she gone mad?"
"N-no, nothing like that, Master," Eyna protested in the former executioner's stead.
The carriage was already slowing before she could explain herself any further, though.
Good thing he wanted to inspect the frontlines anyway.
Nobody even mentioned this giant freaking thing before.
"Fine, I'll see it for myself," he said, forcing a smile and patting the girl's hand. "I'm not mad at you, Eyna. And about your reward, uh—w-we will talk it over later, in greater detail. I promise."
What was he even saying?
He didn't want to talk about it.
He wanted to do unholy things already, but it felt like a great sin—even if she wanted it. For now, the best he could do was to run away from this beautiful woman's feelings and his own.
Inspection. That's why he was here.
The pass was still very much in their hands, now with the gigantic golem standing guard over it.
But it was inert, one of the tribesmen using it as a lookout tower.
Right. How did they keep their eyes on things without Maple's wyverns flying overhead?
Were they still around, without anyone here to control them?
And wait, where was everyone in the first place?!
Before he took over the pass, the Royal Garrison stationed hundreds of people here. Now, he counted a few dozen. He looked around, but all he saw was another carriage approaching.
"Their scouts are here again," the tribesman yelled down, Bor standing by the foot of the golem.
"The Deathwatch reported movement north, too. So keep me posted," his lieutenant shouted back, and Konrad froze at the word. Nothing could have screamed necromancy any louder.
"The hell's wrong with everyone?!" he was starting to lose his mind. "Where's Stella?"
Bor pointed towards the barracks without even batting an eye.
Um, okay. He expected a little more cheering on his return, but he got what he wanted.
"Something's weird," he muttered, charging ahead.
The momentum carried him towards the door, and he almost kicked it down to find the woman in charge. And someone else: Welf and Helena leaning over a map with Stella Nord.
"What do you think you're doing?!" Konrad demanded.
But his dramatic entry didn't turn out as he had expected.
First off, when his best friend looked up, he would only let out an annoyed sigh. Helena didn't even glance his way. And while Stella's hands were empty when he entered—
"Mind your tone, bastard," she scoffed, leveling a skull-topped staff at him.
Konrad blinked.
"W-what? How?!" Wasn't that the Demon Lord's staff? And while the memory was still fuzzy, didn't Lucifer say something about not being able to recover it? "How'd you even have that?!"
The response was only more annoyed looks.
"If you hit your head and forgot," Stella said, her tone resembling her old self, serving the Church. Not the confused necromancer he rescued. "I'm more than happy to remind you."
Konrad had a very good idea of what it could do.
A freaking necromancer's staff, an automated syphon to drain his life forces. No, thank you.
"Enough of this," he grunted, standing his ground. "Where are all the soldiers? And what did you do with that golem? What is this about the Deathwatch and everything?!"
He was away for one month, and the world flipped on its head.
"He's drunk again," Welf groaned, rolling his eyes. "Please be gentle, Stella. Don't kill him."
What?
"It's getting harder and harder to hold back when he's like this," the former executioner said. "A little mana drain again can't hurt, right? He can survive a few days in a coma—"
WHAT?!
That's when Eyna caught up with him, panting, and she wasn't alone, either.
Nimrod barged in on unsteady legs, looking as if he were actually drunk.
But it was all the others who saw double, the air freezing inside the barracks.