As Jurgen moved away, Nemesio's voice rose slightly, cutting cleanly through the space between them, sharp enough that it reached him without effort.
"Einzelberht! For my commanders' actions… it seems I did not set the proper example. Forgive their recklessness," he called out, the words carrying a rare edge of frustration, though clearly meant only for Jurgen's ears.
"Lord Nemesio I—" Kimura began, lifting his bowed head slightly, guilt and hesitation flickering in his gaze.
"Rudolph…" Nemesio interrupted, not concerned by what kimura had to say.
The words came low, edged with restrained irritation that carried more weight than any raised voice, and though Nemesio did not turn immediately, the displeasure in his tone was unmistakable. His gaze remained fixed ahead, following the fading presence of the two figures that had already vanished into the distance, their absence doing little to ease the tension that lingered in the air.
"What was that reckless display?"
There was no need to elaborate further. He knew Blut's temperament well enough, volatile, unrestrained when provoked, and while such traits could be tolerated in the right context, this had not been one of them. To act so openly, so carelessly, in front of those who had yet to fully grasp the weight of such power was not merely irresponsible, it was a slight against the very discipline the Defense Corps was meant to embody.
"And you… Kimura. You watched until it spiraled beyond control."
Kimura inclined his head slightly, the motion subtle, as though preparing to respond, yet the opportunity never came.
"You nearly ended children."
Nemesio's voice sharpened, the restraint thinning just enough for the underlying anger to surface, controlled but no less forceful for it.
"Blut, what explanation would you have offered had that strike succeeded? Had there been no one present to intervene, would you have stood there and justified it? Or would you have chosen to lie, to preserve your name at the cost of your honor, disgracing yourself as a warrior of Mercedes?"
The words did not rise, yet they struck with precision, each one placed with deliberate weight. Beneath the anger, however, something quieter lingered, relief, faint and unspoken, directed not outward but toward a single point.
Jurgen.
It had not gone unnoticed that he had prevented the situation from escalating beyond recovery, shielding the boy with his very presence from the earlier shockwaves that had rippled through the battlefield with destructive force.
The moment fractured as the rest of the Defense Corps arrived, their presence breaking into the space with hurried momentum, having only just caught up after Nemesio's sudden departure from the ridge below where he had stood moments before. Their arrival carried a faint echo of urgency, though it quickly settled into silence beneath the weight of the confrontation already unfolding.
The arrival of the others fractured the tension before it could deepen further, their voices overlapping in a stream of eager chatter and misplaced praise that filled the air with an almost distracting energy, as though their enthusiasm alone could smooth over what had just transpired. It left little room for Nemesio to press the matter further, the moment slipping away beneath the noise, and though his gaze lingered for a fraction longer, he exhaled softly and allowed it to pass, for now. Blut's recklessness had not resulted in a fatality, and while the boy he had shielded remained pressed close to his thoughts, it was not out of irreparable harm but rather the unsettling proximity to death he had faced. Dwelling on what might have been held no value to him; the present, at least, had not ended in loss.
"You two truly are the worst."
The words carried a faint trace of humor beneath them, the earlier edge of anger already fading as an amused smile tugged at his expression, subtle yet genuine, as though the absurdity of the situation had found its way through the tension.
"We sincerely apologize for our actions and will strive to conduct ourselves as proper examples for those who look up to us."
Kimura spoke without hesitation, offering the apology not only for himself but for Blut as well. Beside him, Blut remained silent, his head lowering slightly in acknowledgment. Whether it was pride or something less easily defined, he did feel the weight of what he had done, yet the act of voicing it — of shaping something as simple as an apology remained foreign to him. It was not unwillingness so much as an inability, a habit carved from a past that had never afforded him the means to express such things with ease.
Around them, the members of the Defense Corps continued to fill the space with noise, their praises spilling over one another in an almost exaggerated display that only served to make the atmosphere more strained than it already was.
"Oh, shut it already!"
Kimura's voice cut through sharply, tinged with a comedic irritation as he turned toward them, his patience clearly worn thin. The effect was immediate. The chatter died at once, replaced by a sudden stillness as several of them stiffened, eyes widening in exaggerated alarm while a few stood frozen, as though unsure whether they had overstepped beyond repair.
A brief silence followed, thinner now, less suffocating.
"Hmm… it seems the trial rules may require some revision."
Nemesio's voice returned, calm and unburdened, as though the earlier reprimand had never carried any real weight beyond necessity. His thoughts had already moved elsewhere, detached from the lingering awkwardness around him.
"How about allowing all young stars, regardless of age, to participate in the Truemann Trials?"
The suggestion came with quiet finality, yet beneath its simplicity lay a deliberate intent. The decision had not been formed from policy or tradition, but from a single observation, Jurgen. What he had glimpsed, however briefly, had stirred a curiosity he was not inclined to ignore, even if it meant altering a rule that had stood unchallenged for years. It was, in its own way, a subtle indulgence, one he made no effort to disguise.
"I do wonder what that old geezer will say."
They rose almost instinctively, the reaction immediate and unguarded, shock etching itself clearly across their faces as the weight of Nemesio's words settled in. Kimura's composure cracked first, his jaw slackening in disbelief, while even Blut, rarely so openly expressive, could not conceal the shift in his expression. The proposal was not merely unexpected, it bordered on absurd.
"Haaaa…" Kimura dragged a hand slowly down his face, the exhale that followed long and strained, as though attempting to process something that refused to align with reason. The gesture alone betrayed the question running through his mind, one he did not bother to mask.
"Lord Nemesio… you cannot simply alter the rules of the Trials on a whim." His voice tightened despite his effort to remain composed, the restraint in it doing little to soften the underlying tension. "The council will lose their minds."
Blut remained silent for a moment longer, though the disapproval was no less evident. His head dipped slightly as his hand came to rest against his forehead, a subtle shake following as though the decision itself weighed more heavily on him than he cared to admit. When he finally spoke, the words came measured, though edged with quiet exasperation.
"My lord… there are times I genuinely question how your decisions arrive at any form of reason."
Nemesio answered with a low, deliberate chuckle, the sound calm yet imbued with an authority that required no reinforcement. The question lingered unaddressed, not out of avoidance so much as disinterest, his thoughts already drifting elsewhere, unconcerned with offering justification where none was required. Then, without warning, his gaze shifted, snapping toward them with a sudden clarity that carried a different kind of intent, his expression composed yet touched faintly with amusement.
"Hm?"
His brow lifted slightly, as though something had only just come to his attention, and his eyes narrowed in quiet scrutiny as his head tilted a fraction to the side.
"Why are you two standing?"
The question hung for a brief moment, just long enough to unsettle.
"I was under the impression you were kneeling."
Kimura and Blut froze, the realization striking almost simultaneously before they corrected themselves at once, dropping back to their knees with far less rigidity than before. The motion retained its formality, yet the atmosphere had shifted, the severity diluted into something far lighter, closer to the unspoken familiarity between mentor and subordinate.
A faint smile curved at Nemesio's lips, subtle yet knowing, the shift in tone entirely deliberate.
"Good," he remarked, the amusement no longer concealed. "For a moment, I thought I had imagined it."