No Secret Can Stay Hidden (1)
…He had lost.
It was a complete defeat, with not a single corner left where an excuse might hide.
"That man was stupidly strong."
"……Haha."
Derek let out an empty laugh as he looked at the man lying in the bed. Only yesterday he had been perfectly fine. Now he lay there in ruins. Derek still remembered his own shock when he unwound the hastily wrapped bandages. There was no telling how much of that shredded flesh he had stitched back together.
…For the record, he had done the stitching himself. The Suture skill had been an enormous help.
"You worked hard, treating me."
"…Wasn't it you who suffered, Instructor? Flesh sewn shut with no anesthetic. Even Guan Yu didn't go through this."
"If they'd scraped me down to the bone the way they did that fellow, maybe. I wasn't that far gone, was I?"
"I-if you look at the whole of it, Instructor, you were worse."
Haah!
Derek had wanted to use anesthetic, but whether because of the man's Poison Resistance trait, the drug had barely taken. Most anesthetics in this world carried a toxic component, so he had been forced into the drastic measure of stitching living flesh with nothing to dull the pain, and his hands had trembled through all of it.
Fortunately—
How does he not make a single sound of pain? Honestly.
For nearly seven hours of surgery, the man had done nothing but endure.
He's incredible. No—he's strong. …Truly.
Derek found himself thinking, all over again, that this person was absurdly strong. He did not mean strong in raw force alone.
He's strong. His body is strong, but his mind is tremendously strong too.
It was not simply that the man had refused to scream while living flesh was sewn shut. What loomed even larger was that he could make a decision this reckless for his own disciple—a girl who, in the end, was little more than a stranger.
Could he himself have done the same?
He didn't charge in just because he hated how the future was supposed to go. He went and made a possibility in which the girl named Levi wouldn't be hurt. …Was an answer like that even possible?
…No.
This probably was not the correct answer. Fighting a marquis's house in order to drag a girl's happiness out of it made no sense to begin with. However insane the development team might be, they would never have stuffed in an Easter egg this ridiculous.
I'd sooner fight the Ghost King one more time. Actually taking on Tristan is out of the question.
Every knight of the Scarlet Eagle sat at level 5 to 6, or higher. The vice-captain was his equal: Lv. 7. Gather a hundred such knights, and their combined might matched Lv. 8, or pressed beyond even that. And the marquis, fighting alone…
Level 8.5.
Not Lv. 9, but a monster who had reached the stage immediately before it. In truth, aside from a Lv. 9, there was no one alive who could beat a powerhouse like that. Simply coming back alive from such an opponent was already a colossal feat.
He fought a knight order and won, and he survived a monster on par with Lv. 9…. At that point, there's no mistake.
Derek was certain. The man had truly stepped into the ranks of the strong in this world.
…He's an incredible person.
Reaching that level at that age was itself proof of how brutal a life he had lived. Derek knew it was not a level one could touch merely by being strong, or by stumbling onto some heaven-sent fortune, and the knowledge moved him. Imagining how hard the man must have worked made his chest swell. He was dying to open his skill and check those stats the moment he could, and it was just as that swell of feeling crested that—
"M-Master…"
A girl, incomparably more haggard than she had been the day before, opened the door and stepped in.
Levi Fault.
She looked ready to burst into tears at any moment.
"Ah…"
Derek froze. Of course he did. The girl hadn't known. She was the very cause of it, and still she had only been able to wait, powerless. And yet, as if to make a mockery of that powerlessness, there stood a master who had become her advocate and gone to face the marquis's house. If it had been him, the surge of feeling would have been beyond words.
Sure enough.
The tears spilled. Joy and worry, hurt and guilt, and self-loathing besides—countless emotions crossed at once, and Levi could not even form a proper sentence. The instructor turned a gentle look on her.
"Bear-Girl…"
"M-Master, I…"
"—Cry later. Help the maid and bring me some food. I've been lying here all day, and I'm hungry."
"……"
"This instructor went to all that trouble. I trust feeding him won't be too difficult."
"……"
"Quickly."
"…Yes."
……His sensibilities were, it seemed, far too dry for a melodrama.
"…Not a single rumor got out?"
"No, sir. Not even a wild one, they say."
"……Is that even possible?"
"Right?"
After putting away the beef stew and bread Layla and Levi had made—well past ten portions—and three chickens roasted in the oven, Lee Han blinked at the report Timid had brought him. Word that he had raided the marquis's house had not spread through the Royal Capital at all.
I rampaged like that, and nobody knows?
He was embarrassed to say it aloud, but he truly had run wild without a thought for what came before or after. The marquis's mansion might have stood in a sparsely peopled forest, but could it really be that no one had seen a thing?
"It would be possible if someone locked the information down completely. They'd have to be an immense power, though, and exceptionally capable…. Instructor, do you happen to know a duke, by any chance?"
"……Hmm."
He knew a duke. That duke had probably not been the one to step in.
That sister of mine really does clear the way for a rampage.
A total lockdown of information. Pulling off something like this would take mages and no small number of administrators, and the only person he knew who could manage it was the silver-haired princess. Lee Han clicked his tongue. So this was the sort of ability one needed, if one meant to be king.
"…Don't you think it's a waste? Handled right, you could have earned a name for beating Tristan."
"What nonsense are you spouting now?"
"I-I just thought knights liked that kind of honor. That's all."
Timid genuinely seemed to regret that it had stayed unknown. He muttered to himself—Ah, if he picked up achievement points and reputation points, he might gain a new Trait—and he surely believed he was only whispering, but Lee Han heard every word. So he laughed. It was not even a prize the boy would receive, and still he ached over something meant for someone else.
To that, Lee Han said:
"I don't need a false reputation. In the end, I lost."
"……"
"You seem to think I won because I came back alive, but I effectively lost. I survived only because the marquis and the knight order chose to be merciful. So don't bother with useless thoughts."
"Mmm…"
Lee Han did not consider himself the victor. He had beaten the knight order, beaten a hundred knights, only because they had known nothing about him. The marquis, too, could have killed him whenever he pleased. He had simply let him live and sent him on his way. There was no feeling of victory in it. If anything, it felt as though he had gone and taken a beating.
"S-still, you did win. In a way. Sort of."
"Well, if all you care about is the result, sure. But I like the process too. Maybe that's why it just… doesn't feel like much."
"…You're more stubbornly old-fashioned than I thought, Instructor."
"You get that way at this age. Heh heh."
"…I don't know. I don't think that's it."
Timid gave him a meaningful look, and just as Lee Han was about to scold the brat for getting cocky—
"…Why? Why did you do it?"
"……"
"Why, why did you go this far? Wh-what am I, that you…"
"You're asking that again? Let it go."
"I-I can't! How could I? You're hurt this badly—!"
The cry was nearly a sob. Levi was still on the verge of tears, as if it tore at her that he had been hurt this badly because of her. Tears were already spilling from her brimming eyes, and Lee Han watched her in silence.
"Timid."
"…Yes. Call if you need me."
The boy was not without tact. The moment his name was called, he went straight outside.
Lee Han and Levi. A room with only the two of them left.
"……"
"Hic… hnn…"
A silence thick with hurt. In it, Lee Han had wanted only to wait quietly until the girl calmed. But—
"Is it wrong to protect a disciple who means to walk into misfortune of her own accord, against her own will?"
"…!?"
With the sense that this was the moment he had to ask, Lee Han opened his mouth. The sobbing girl went still. Her eyes flew wide, and she looked up at him. He met her gaze and went on.
"The student I know as Levi Fault is a clever girl, and a tough one. You endured even that brutal training on Vulcan, and you didn't run from the magic those spell-slingers threw. And that isn't all. You stood before a great host of gnolls, held your head up, commanded your troops, and were the foremost hand in the victory. All eighty of the sword faculty know your courage. So do I."
"Wh-why are you suddenly…"
"And yet!"
"…!"
His bark cut her off, and the words died in her throat. As if, for this moment, he would not allow her to ask anything back.
"…Why does a girl that clever, that brave, keep acting like a fool? Why does she keep picking such foolish choices? I couldn't understand it at all."
"……"
"Because you're a filial daughter? For the sake of the house? That could be. You're a 'good kid.' You might well accept your fate and refuse to run, out of filial devotion. I could understand it that way…. But no matter how I turned it over, I could not understand your parents."
"—!!"
…At that, the girl was stunned. Only then did she realize it. He—Lee Han—had noticed something.
"House Fault. By your own account, that house is already ruined. But you said it fell because it tried to rise again with its dignity as a knightly house, and failed. So tell me. You may be a woman, but you were finally born with a knight's talent. Does throwing you away make any sense at all? …Isn't that too strange? The question came to me all at once."
"Ah… aah…"
"If you became a knight, the house's long-cherished wish would be fulfilled, and the name Fault could rise again. So why don't those people who call themselves your parents do that? Are they idiots who don't know how the world turns? Or do they look down on you because you're a woman? Hmph. If it were me, I would never throw away a kid who works that blindly hard. No matter how I look at it, I don't understand."
"M-Master…"
"…What is it? What is it that makes you follow so blindly?"
Lee Han remembered, as if he were tying together the hints he had been given all along. Blind effort. It was like the very root of Levi Fault. A noble young lady who still strove to learn the sword, a girl armed with a venom that defied description. She had looked as if she were thrashing to have her own worth acknowledged, and Lee Han had turned over and over what could drive a girl to thrash like that.
"What is pushing you that hard? And why do you follow your parents' words like a fool, without the slightest resistance—no. Their orders?"
"……"
"…If you want, I won't say what comes after. I'll bury this suspicion deep and leave it there. Call it an old man's nagging and shake it off. Or if you'd rather vent, you can slap me once."
"……"
"Yes. If you want—"
"…You're right."
"……"
"You're right. What you guessed, Master. All of it… it's right."
"……"
The girl wept without a sound, wearing a smile that was almost pitiful.
"Master really is…. For how you look, you notice things so quickly… sir."
Even speaking seemed difficult. She could not stop the tears, and Lee Han shrugged.
"It has nothing to do with how I look. I only thought of it because there was none of the duty a parent is supposed to keep."
"…I… see. An obvious… duty."
"You don't have to say any more. I didn't ask in order to interrogate you."
"…You've already interrogated me, though."
"It isn't an interrogation. It's a counseling session. A counseling session. A master ought to know his disciple's circumstances, at least a little."
"……What even is that."
Crying as she was, the girl laughed brightly. He had lightly turned up the truth she had hidden—no, a truth so despairing that even revealing it had felt hopeless—and still he treated her exactly as he always did. She was grateful for that, and…
"Hehe. I've finally been found out."
…she felt relief. She had thought she would have to hide it for the rest of her life. She had believed that the moment she was discovered, there would be no escaping blame. But now that she had been found out, she had never felt so clear inside. And so the girl—no, the young woman, wearing a mature smile that could now rightly be called an adult's—began her story.
"…That's right. Just as you thought, Master. I…"
Slowly, she gave the words a voice.
Fwoosh!
An illegal gambling den, torn to pieces. The watchdogs set to guard it had long since fallen as the flames spread, and the gambling-mad patrons lay unconscious outside with arms or legs broken, stacked in a neat pile. And yet one person in that den still held on to his senses. Or perhaps it would be fairer to say he had been kept from losing them on purpose.
Crunch!
"Ugh—wh-why are you doing this!"
"……"
"Wh-what grudge could you possibly have against me!"
"……"
"Answer me, at least…"
"—Don't open your mouth. You stink."
"!!!?"
The blue-haired man was seized by the collar and hauled straight up. It was only a grip on cloth, yet a tremendous pressure crashed down over him, and he could not even breathe properly. The black-haired youth who had lifted him showed not a shred of pity. He simply bore down, as if he had found not the slightest worth in offering the man any consideration.
"Reynol Folt. From this moment, you will answer my questions straight. If you cannot open your mouth, nod. If you cannot even nod, blink. But if your answer is even a little late, or if you lie, I will erase you—no. I will erase your entire house from this world!!"
"!!?!!"
Reynol Folt. The man who could be called the current head of House Folt shook in fear and bobbed his head like a madman. It was a truly pathetic sight. Someone else might have felt a flicker of pity. To the black-haired youth—to Roen—he was only a loathsome creature, more hideous than a gnoll.
Grind.
It was the first time the man who always kept his cool had shown his anger like this. Barely holding down the urge to snap this wretch's neck on the spot, Roen spoke.
"Reynol Folt. Forty-three this year. A wife of common birth, and two daughters beneath her. Am I correct?"
"!!"
"Yes? That's right?"
"!!!"
Reynol Folt jerked his head in frantic agreement. Yes. It was true—he had a wife, and daughters—
"—Except it isn't. You don't have two daughters. You have one. So why are you spitting out a lie?"
"?!!"
"It's one, not two, isn't it? And tell me this. Even if you did have two daughters, how could you carve a Brand of Obedience into a person and give an order that cruel…!!"
"……Kh… khhh…"
A brand long since buried. An ancient secret art, and like Curse Poison, something no ordinary means could ever undo—the Brand of Absolute Obedience, the sort of mark that in the present age might be carved into livestock or monsters. To carve it into a person was forbidden even by the laws of the kingdom. It was something that must never be allowed to happen. But Roen had not come to discuss the majesty of the law.
What he meant to discuss was—
"Trash like you! What gives the likes of you the right to toy with a person's life—!"
Pity for a comrade whose life had been toyed with by garbage like this, who in the end had lived nothing but a sorrowful life. That alone was enough to enrage Roen. And in answer to his feeling—
To tear to shreds the sinner who had roused its master's wrath…!