Raydor Holy Sword War Journal

"Welcome home, His Royal Highness King Raidor."

Go into the mansion. No, as many as twenty deacons and maids have said hello.

"Ugh, oh...?

It is a kind of spectacular sight for a man and woman who seem to grow up breathing together and bowing their heads.

If I had lived in the royal palace as a prince, I would still be. Reidor, who had spent a long time in the countryside of the border, was accidentally put under pressure.

"Your husband."

"Mm-hmm..."

Naemilia standing behind her pulls the hem of Raydor's jacket. Raydor nodded, regaining his mind and coughing.

"Now, Raydor, who is the lord of this mansion?

"It's me. Your Royal Highness"

It is the man in the butler's clothes who has grown the beard of his mouth who has entered.

The politely groomed hair and beard are dyed in romance grey, with a seemingly honest personality imbued with the appearance of politely folding and greeting the hips.

"That's the face you saw. You worked at the royal palace, didn't you?

"Yes, it's been a long time. I worked with His Majesty Granard. My name is Sarawyn."

Deacon - Sarawyn loosens her mouth and laughs at Raydor.

The calm and calm atmosphere is no different than it was five years ago. Raydor remembered when he was a kid, when his brother got a treat from Sarawyn at a tea party.

"Well, that was Sarawyn. Long time no see."

"It's an honor to see you again. Well done. You're back."

"Thank you, by the way... I need to talk to everyone here."

"Huh? What is it?"

Raydor laughs with his mouth in a three-day moon shape at Sarawyn, who looks suspicious.

"Everyone here is fired. You need to leave now."

"Is...?

Sarawyn's expression freezes on words too unexpected. Other servants in the line behind them also start bothering.

"Was there something wrong with us? If there seems to be..."

"There's nothing wrong with that. I'm just saying get out because you don't have to."

Raydor breaks without an island to attach.

Sarawyn whilst perplexed and lost his gaze to the left and right, he still recruits.

"This mansion is as big as you can see. I don't think your maid can clean it..."

"That's not what you worry about... Shall I change my mind? The only person I trust is here, Namilia. I'm not going to put another human being aside."

"It's..."

You guys can't be trusted.

So get out.

That's what they say out loud, and Sarawyn distorts his expression to humiliation.

The old butler stared resentfully at Raydor and Namilia for a while, but eventually sighed as he gave up.

"... I understand. I will tell His Majesty Granard this from my side."

"Do that, thank you"

Raydor dropped off a servant waving through the door with a hiccups. A servant leads Sarawyn out of the mansion. There is uniform confusion in their expressions.

Eventually I looked back at Namilia, anticipating everyone leaving.

"... check the mansion. To the corner."

"Yes, I did. Your husband."

Naemilia pinches the hem of the apron dress to return words of humility and understanding.

"[Shadow Servant]"

The shadow of Namilia reshapes with Gugnagna to shape the human form.

From the shadows emerge the maid clothes women. Dark hair and dark skin. The faces of the maids, as if they had worked out and consolidated darkness, have no eyes, no nose, and are twisted like eggs.

They are naturally not human. He was the demon of Neimilia, who dwelt in the shadows and was born of the shadows.

"Explore the mansion. See if anyone's lurking with anything dangerous. The unavailable check supplies in the mansion. Especially clothing and groceries."

"Copy," Jesus. "Ma'am.

About ten shadow maids scatter all over the mansion in slippery footsteps.

They, created from the shadows, can enter every clearance, exploring the details of the mansion. Naemilia nodded with a satisfied face, precisely to the user demon exploring without any gap in Ali's entry.

"Well... then your husband will not rest. I'll take care of the mansion and everything."

"Oh, I'm counting on you"

As the powerful word goes, Namilia will manage and show all of the large mansion by herself.

The witch who was once about to destroy the world was now a fine maid.