Episode 17 — Is Irene Windler a Villainess? (3)

Th-this wasn't in my plan...

The girl was flustered, and the ghost, furious, lashed out.

...Premature ejaculator isn't a thing you say at a time like this, is it?

H-how should I know!

!!?

Irene Windler nearly clutched the back of her neck. Who had picked the fight in the first place, to be this shameless? She would gladly have committed to a proper argument, but the interloper came first.

"Sir Knight, look over there. Lady Levi is making a speech!"

"Bear-Girl does have a way with words."

"Does that mean she's won?"

"Not sure a debate is even about winning or losing, but in the logic and in the crowd, Bear-Girl is clearly landing well. I'd say she probably won."

"Hehe!"

A maid, smiling a vacant smile. If anyone else grinned like that they would look a little dim, but true to a human vitamin advertising one hundred percent positivity and purity, a goodness came off her that made whoever looked at her smile in spite of themselves.

Layla Winter.

The pretty maid, whose braids suited her unusually well, was pressed right up against Lee Han's side, taking in the debate, and Lee Han humored her with a reasonable share of answers. For the record, Irene Windler was off by herself, forlornly eating the pretzel he had bought her.

I can't even resent the maid. Tch—and why is this pretzel so good!

And so most of the pretzels Lee Han had bought from Bear No. 7 vanished into Irene Windler's stomach. That she would scream the next day at the sight of her swollen face was already a foregone conclusion.

Irene had been dreaming of a date disguised as chance, but the world has a way of refusing to follow anyone's plan. Forgetting the maid who was forever glued to his side was nothing short of her own blunder.

"Don't you rest, miss?"

"I'm Sir Knight's personal maid, so of course I'm always with him."

"You weren't here just a little while ago, though..."

"Hehe, I couldn't help it. I had housework. Oh, Sir Knight! While I was cleaning today, I didn't break any of the furniture! Isn't that lucky?"

"Not breaking things is what's supposed to happen. Not sure why you're happy about it."

"But the hammer broke. It fell on my head, and I couldn't dodge, so I snapped it by accident. I'm sorry..."

"...Why don't we go see our priest."

"Why?"

"......"

A hammer had dropped on her head, and far from the head being hurt, she had broken the hammer—the rock-headed, no, iron-headed maid. By way of that little episode she came to go about with them, and Irene wept like a dog on the inside.

But.

"Lady Irene, don't you need to study?"

"There's an exam I have to sit, but I've already studied, so."

"Wow! Top of the class, as expected! Amazing!"

"Wh-what are you..."

"I think Lady Irene is an incredible person. You're pretty, you're clever, you cook well, and when there's something you don't know you try to learn it...! You really are amazing, my lady."

"...Miss, is there anything you'd like, by any chance?"

"There isn't~"

Layla Winter was a woman you could not hate, however you tried. As said before, she was a pure human vitamin—and the sort of woman who, had she a tail, would be wagging it without rest even now. A golden retriever.

Every word was not flattery but one thousand percent sincere, and unless the person being praised was twisted all the way through, their guard was bound to come down on its own. It was an inborn gift that explained how she could hold a princess's trust even with a lacking head. Ten minutes was all that golden retriever needed to disarm Irene Windler.

Could you dislike that person if you were me?

The ghost, who had always fired back without missing a beat, was at a loss for words for the first time.

Layla Winter. Even to a ghost, she was a formidable foe.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"Th-thank you, Instructor. For coming all the way here yourself."

Levi ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Fault ducked her head, shy. Lee Han told her curtly there was nothing to thank him for over a thing like this, and held out the flowers all the same. A red rose, set against the girl's hair, sat rather well on her.

"I came because I had nothing to do, so there's nothing to thank me for. More than that, you were pretty good with your words."

"Wh-what are you saying. I only said what I already knew. It's nothing special."

"That's exactly what makes it impressive."

"That's right, Levi! You were wonderful!"

"Lady Levi, you were amazing. I didn't understand a bit of the topic, but still!"

"...Haha."

Levi Fault closed the debate on a high score. Eloquence was one thing, but she was a girl who produced results in proportion to how much she studied. Some people study and still cannot show what they know; others bring forth exactly as much as they have put in. In that sense Levi Fault was a superb worker, and a talent whose future one could not help looking forward to. Whatever task she was given, she simply did it.

"If you're free, let's get a meal."

"Th-then, could we go after just the next debate? There's someone I really want to see..."

"Ho. A man?"

"N-no! It isn't like that!"

Levi Fault panicked and, rarely for her, raised her voice. Her fluster only invited more suspicion, and the knight's gaze narrowed.

Is spring coming for Bear-Girl, too?

Was a spring day on its way for the girl as well? He had no interest in his own love life, but other people's were interesting enough, and just as that shabby adult was about to feel a fond warmth, the next debaters appeared in the hall.

"...Women?"

Disappointment spread over Lee Han's face.

"I-I told you. It isn't like that..."

Levi Fault grumbled under her breath, awkward for no good reason.

"The person I wanted to see is her. Lady Karin."

"Hm. You mean her?"

"You picked her out exactly. Did you already know her?"

"No. She just seemed to have a different aura, all by herself."

He had pinpointed exactly the one Levi Fault cared about. Small wonder. There had been a woman who stood out far too much; it would have been stranger if it weren't her.

Now that is a lot of color.

A cadet with striking deep-violet hair and eyes. She had the strong look of a beauty at a glance, and the longer one watched, a fresh charm slowly made itself felt. Stronger than her looks, though, was the presence of the woman called Karin—a singular aura that brought a modern superstar to mind.

"She is Lady Karin Allensia de Guinevere, daughter of a marquis. She is also the daughter of the current prime minister."

"Quite a rank."

"She isn't impressive for her rank alone. She's brilliant—brilliant enough to hold debates with renowned scholars."

"...You know her better than I expected."

"Among women my age, there isn't one who doesn't admire her. Ah—of course Lady Irene is admired as well!"

"......Her?"

"Yes. She's top of the magic faculty, isn't she? And a daughter of House Galahad."

"......"

A sick little chick, an object of admiration? As far as Lee Han was concerned he could not see a single corner of a mage worth respecting, and the whole thing left him dumbfounded. Mages were a breed you were not supposed to treat well. Why didn't they understand that?

Young people's feelings are impossible to understand, anyway...

The sour look lasted only a moment. Soon the debate began, and a hush of propriety settled over the hall. A short while later:

"...Was this a solo concert for Purple?"

Lee Han looked sour in an entirely different sense.

"P-Purple...?"

Ignoring Levi Fault's protest, he watched in real time as the mood of the place gathered on Purple alone—on Karin.

It was a provocative subject. Remnants of the Kingdom of Britannia were still running riot, and it would not have been strange for Britannia's citizens to rise in revolt at any hour. What was to be done with the Britannia they had spent the last three years swallowing was a question fought over furiously even among the upper ranks—a vexing knot that had the whole kingdom in an uproar. And they were taking up that sensitive problem here and now. The sitting prime minister's daughter, of all people, on the opposition.

Honestly.

"Hell of a nerve on her. You don't think so?"

"......"

"Don't pretend you didn't hear. I'm asking you."

"...A-are you speaking to me?"

"Yeah. You."

"......"

"Don't play the fool. I can see you trying to act like you've got nothing to do with Purple, but the worry is leaking out of you."

"......"

"And what's with the I-just-got-caught face while you're staring that hard? You shady bastard."

"......"

Lee Han looked at the boy who had sidled over to sit beside him and was staring, unblinking. He looked somehow frail. But Lee Han's eyes flashed, and a sneer settled on his mouth.

This bastard...

He sat down next to me and yelled Status, didn't he? Just now?

Lee Han's ears had not missed even that small, fidgeting whisper, and in a flash instinct struck home.

It's this bastard.

...The System Window.

Derek broke into a cold sweat. He was pathologically timid; even running into someone he knew was hard on him. Facing a total stranger, the situation itself could only be sheer terror—and yet he was plainly sweating far more than usual.

Why? Nothing else.

Th-this... these are a person's specs?

The other party's Status, confirmed through the Status skill, was astonishing enough to send a chill down his spine.

His mouth fell open all over again.

Seven traits? If one remembered that the traits an ordinary human possessed never went past three, however many they had, it was an absurd figure. A trait was decided by the years a person had lived, the effort, the ordeals, and the pain, and so most people had few of them. And yet seven? Had he been living under torture since the day he was born?

Th-the number is one thing, but why are the trait levels all that high...?

Given that an elite knight's average Trait Level was three or four at best, it was enough to make a man black out. In the terms of a game character, Lv.4 meant the specs of someone who had finished a fourth class advancement. And among this man's trait levels there was a Lv.7. Which meant, in effect, that he was a warrior who had completed a seventh class advancement.

Lv.5 was enough to become knight-commander of a domain. Lv.6 was a champion class fit to represent a domain. And Lv.7 was—

A hidden class, of which even this game had precious few! But Derek, who remembered every hero class, had never heard of a hero character called Ihan.

No—before that?!

Why is the race a question mark? And what is Adamant Monk? This isn't even a murim novel... and Spell Butcher? The way I remember it, that's a hidden trait you have to kill at least thirty mages just to unlock, and he raised it to Lv.5...?!

How many mages did a man have to go around killing to level up like that? Derek belatedly confirmed even the unique trait Founder's Aptitude, which bestowed a special talent on a dullard short of talent, and swallowed dry. He still could not understand why a trait existed that even he, a developer, was seeing for the first time—nor a hero class that bore it.

Scary as hell.

Because it was certain this man had slaughtered a hundred mages without so much as a strain.

......Derek lowered his eyes on instinct.