Rest (3)

After finishing our meal, we set off together.

It was literally just "us." Primien seemed to think she had to escort me since I'd given her a sleeping bag like some game NPC—and sure enough, she grabbed a pickpocket adventurer who was trying to rifle through my pockets.

As we walked, we stopped in front of a rundown wooden building.

"You should head off now."

"Alright then. I'll say this sleeping bag was something I picked up on the road."

"Allen, you wait outside too."

"Yeees!"

Primien left, and I made Allen—who was trying to follow—stay outside.

Knock knock.

I knocked on the door and stepped inside.

The place smelled musty, like an ancient used bookstore. Drafts whistled through the cracks and scars in the splintered wooden beams everywhere.

"...Is anyone here?"

I spoke politely. It felt oddly twisted using formal speech in such a decrepit spot, but the owner here was the type who deserved utmost respect.

It was a temperament I could easily overcome.

"Kuhum... Who ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠might you be...?"

A raspy voice thick with phlegm drifted down from above. There must have been a second floor in my blind spot.

Creeeak—creeeak—creeeak—

Each step on the wooden stairs made the whole building shudder. Soon, an elderly man descended—aged, but with a striking, intense presence.

"I have come to commission a cane."

"A cane?"

The old man, whose long, scraggly white hair gave him the look of a true mage, haphazardly donned a pair of glasses from somewhere nearby and peered at me.

"Ah, are you not Deculein?"

"..."

I bowed my head silently.

"As I said last time... hm...? Hmm... You've changed quite a bit, haven't you? No, this is..."

The old man's eyebrows twitched. The wrinkles on his face shifted with them.

"Has your soul been swapped? It seems you've been through something major. Your mind and blood waves are far purer than before. Your speech too."

My heart skipped a beat, but I kept my composure.

"I have come to commission a cane."

The old man grinned and nodded.

"Very well. I'll do it this time. What sort of cane do you desire?"

From the way he spoke, it seemed the old Deculein had visited here before.

Of course. Even I, a non-mage player, knew of the craftsman Rockrallen.

"...A simple cane will suffice."

"There are many kinds of canes. Wands, staves, plain canes."

"Something I can use all of these with ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠would be ideal."

I pulled out the mana wood fragment I'd hidden in my coat. The old man's eyes gleamed.

"Oh ho. Mana wood, eh? That should work."

"That's not all."

I laid out all the other materials I'd bought from the shop. In the eyes of a Great Tycoon, they were all top-grade quality.

The old man's mouth fell open.

"...Oh ho ho. Mana wood plus all this? Do you want the greatest cane on earth?"

"If it can go down in history, that would be preferable."

"Hm. Then why not add your blood as well?"

I hesitated at the suggestion.

The old man continued.

"Yukline blood is more than worthy as a material. Such a storied magical house, after all."

"...Yes."

Deculein's talents weren't great, so I worried—but if it would have a negative effect, the old master would weed it out himself.

"Use it judiciously."

I rolled up my sleeve, and the old man flicked his index finger diagonally. A painless cut appeared on my forearm, blood welling up. He manipulated the flowing blood directly into a beaker.

A pinnacle blood mage.

"Normally, I do not take long to craft a cane, but this warrants my full attention. Wait ten days. I shall send it via parcel."

I had my doubts about parcels, but as if reading my mind, the old master added:

"With your blood forming the vault magic, no one but you will be able to open or damage it."

"...How much?"

"Four million elne. Includes the vault magic and shipping."

Four million after materials—far pricier than expected. Yeriel's twisted face flashed in my mind.

Still, I could earn ten million with a flower vase right away.

"Do you take house checks?"

"You are Yukline, are you not?"

I nodded and wrote the check. The old man grinned.

"Much obliged. You'll have it in two weeks at latest."

"Yes. Farewell."

"Good. Keh heh heh heh."

As I bowed to his smile, multiple messages appeared.

"..."

A quest cleared out of nowhere.

Of course—thanks to Deculein's prior visit at some point.

Thanks.

I left the shop satisfied.

Meanwhile, in the captain's office of the Prenheim Knight Order near the capital.

Julie was chatting with her cousin Reilly, who had visited after a long time.

"Seriously, these days it's all just busywork and no pay. Being an adventurer sucks. Everything's just a money pit. Honestly, I only do it for the ID—it lets you travel abroad unlimited times, you know?"

"That does sound enviable."

Julie smiled and responded appropriately to Reilly's complaints.

"Knight, you made the right call ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠not becoming an adventurer~"

"Haha."

Adventuring had once been an option Julie considered. No—there had been a time when Deculein's pressure left her no other path. She'd even thought of abandoning everything and flying free.

"By the way, Reilly."

As Reilly finished, Julie subtly changed the subject.

"Yes?"

"Do you... happen to know anything about... Deculein's fiancée?"

Asking made her whole body break out in metaphorical hives. Julie ruffled her hair wildly.

"Huh? Why? And why the sudden formal tone?"

"Oh? No, it's nothing. Just..."

Julie recalled the Deculein she'd once glimpsed.

At his late fiancée's gravestone, she'd stumbled upon him by chance. She hadn't meant to spy, but she couldn't bring herself to leave.

He had clearly been mourning her with tears.

"No, never mind. Nothing."

"What... well, whatever."

Reilly was a tower-born adventurer, Deculein's junior by two years. They'd known each other back when Deculein was still with his fiancée.

"I don't know much. To me, she was just some noble lady. Not much is known about her. I didn't even realize they were engaged at first."

"You didn't know?"

"Yeah. All I know is she was sickly and stayed home... But why ask?"

Reilly tilted her head suspiciously. Julie flinched.

"No. Nothing."

"You already knew she passed, right, Knight?"

"...True."

"You can't use that as an excuse to break off the engagement."

"That's not what I..."

Julie sighed needlessly.

She'd grown curious, suddenly.

How deeply had he loved her, for that cold man to still shed tears? If she was so hard to forget, why express such raw feelings to me? If he couldn't move on, how could he ask for that once-a-month smile?

Was his vow to change even tied to her?

Did I... resemble her or something?

"...Never mind. Just curiosity."

"Hmm. Really?"

That was when it happened.

Knock knock.

Vice-captain Rockpel entered. He wore a strangely black cloak.

"Captain."

"Yes. What is it?"

Rockpel bowed without a word. He stayed like that for a long time, then bit his lip. With a heavy sigh, he finally spoke in a somber tone.

Julie and Reilly's faces hardened coldly as they listened.

The same time.

In Hadekan, the main city of Yukline territory, the lord's office.

"I'm the idiot for expecting anything."

Yeriel grumbled, glaring out the window. The anger that had once piled to the top of her head still hadn't fully subsided.

"Why not me? Ugh, annoying. Even if I quit magic midway, better than that Allen or whatever..."

He seemed utterly mediocre. She couldn't fathom why he'd been picked as assistant professor. Better to take me than...

"Tsk. Whatever."

Three days later, she'd mostly accepted it.

"It's been over ten years since we were siblings."

Acting close now would be ridiculous.

This mutual dislike suited them better.

Deculein didn't like me, and I hated Deculein.

He was perfect as a negative example, so I hated Deculein. Hated. Hated...

Chirp chirp—chirp chirp—

As she forcibly stoked her hatred in secret, a sparrow lightly landed on the window frame.

Yeriel leaned on the sill and watched it. Even as she quietly opened the window, it didn't fly away.

"Hey. Come here."

She extended a finger, and the sparrow hopped onto it, singing cheep cheep—cheep cheep—.

"Pft."

Oddly, animals liked her. Even without being particularly nice.

"Cute. Off you go."

As if understanding, the sparrow took flight.

Below the soaring bird lay... Hadekan.

The splendid metropolis stretched out endlessly.

"Haa~"

Yeriel took a deep breath in and out. A massive emotion welled up.

Now, this territory was hers.

She wasn't proxy lord anymore—she was the real lord.

That fact alone made every day joyful, every morning fresh, every breath of air and all of Hadekan's nature lovable.

Knock knock.

"...Lady Yeriel."

The butler entered.

"Yeah. What?"

"A house check arrived."

"What is it? Trade payment from before?"

Yeriel took the check in high spirits.

The next instant, her fingers trembled.

Seeing wrong? She flipped it front and back.

No change.

"...8.02 million elne?"

"Yes."

"Who? What expense is this?"

"The head seems to have purchased various items in Verhert."

Yeriel gaped blankly, then slapped her forehead and muttered.

"Ah, you fucking—"

Clack—clack—

"..."

Clack—clack—

"..."

The awkward jolting of the slow train—maybe 70 kph—bothered me.

Because of the person sitting beside me.

"..."

Betan.

By coincidence, we'd ended up in the same express VIP car, side by side across the aisle—but pride kept us silent for two hours now.

"..."

Our sidelong glances met.

Betan spoke.

"Had it been fifteen years ago, I would have challenged you to a duel."

Thank goodness. I didn't want Betan challenging me. I lacked the skill to pierce his barrier yet.

But provocations like this triggered an instinctive reaction.

"I hope you do not die."

Not that it mattered—three house heads and four aides were in the same space.

A matter of face.

Deculein's personality intensified depending on who watched and the situation.

"...Next stop, for the duel—"

"Choose magical natural death."

Mana rose from Betan. I merely gazed calmly at the surging aura.

"Ehey. Everyone!"

Clap clap clap—

The noisy applause shattered the tension. It was Gilteon.

Gilteon, from the back seat, grinned as he approached, kneading Betan and my shoulders alternately.

"Betan, calm down. And you didn't even experience fifteen years ago. On the way to Verhert, three died. During the meeting, six. After, two. Of eleven, seven aides—but four house heads too."

Gilteon leaned to Betan's ear.

"Or do you truly think you can beat Deculein?"

"...What?"

"If you can't even touch his heel, learn to bow."

Betan ground his teeth at the whisper. But against Gilteon, he stayed silent.

Pat pat. Gilteon patted Betan's shoulder.

"Of course, I admire your challenging spirit! Challenge is Beorad's will, no?"

Gilteon laughed, and I found his overestimation burdensome.

"But Deculein, you're peculiar."

Gilteon muttered with an innocent face.

"Used to berate mages over trifles, now you stir fights over big deals. Isn't that right?"

"You talk excessively."

"...Haha. Old age makes me chatty. Fifteen years ago, you were ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠young. Grown so much."

I said nothing. Beyond Gilteon's shoulder, Sylvia peeked curiously.

Gilteon extended a hand to Allen beside me.

"Allen, was it? Pleased to meet. First time for such a connection. Meeting a university tower assistant professor at Verhert."

"Ah, y-yes, nee~! An honor."

"Good. Take care. Haha."

Gilteon smirked slyly and returned to Sylvia.

No further incidents followed.

No talk, no threats.

We all arrived quietly, safely at Terh Platform.

"Kwaaaah~"

Allen stretched hugely upon alighting.

But the atmosphere felt heavier than on arrival.

I glanced around.

Heavy snow fell on Terh's platform. Amid the flakes, someone watched me.

"..."

Julie. She wore white light armor and a black cloak, accompanied by her knights in matching attire.

Julie saw me, and I approached her.

Crunch, crunch.

I walked the snow-blanketing platform. I gazed into her wavering eyes. My footprints marked the ground.

We stopped within arm's reach.

Julie spoke first.

"I heard the news."

Her voice was as usual. More usual than usual.

That tremorless tone felt poignant.

"Is that so."

I pondered what to say.

In truth, I'd already sorted my thoughts.

I planned to tell her at least: Knight Veron tried to kill me, it ended in a fight.

"...I heard you were attacked."

But seeing her face, my heart strangely softened.

An inexplicable emotion.

Clearly not mine, yet feeling like it was.

No—truly mine.

Deep affection.

"Indeed."

I knew her character. Her convictions.

Her exterior was firm, but her interior fragile, on the verge of collapse.

"...Glad you're safe."

Julie said. Sincerity colored her tone.

Before I could speak, she continued.

"I read the knight's report. Said you worked with him to save survivors."

I stood silently. Unsure what report she'd read or words heard, I couldn't speak rashly.

"Just one question."

Then, a train arrived opposite.

"What was he like."

"..."

I chose my words. Thinking deeply while meeting her eyes.

"Well..."

I couldn't lie to her.

Thus.

"...An emotional sort."

That was all.

Julie drew a deep breath and bowed her head.

"Thank you. We'll go to him now. Rest well."

I watched her retreating back. Snowflakes already blanketed her slender shoulders.

One of the many knights following her said to me.

"Will you come with?"

Simultaneously, the other knights eyed me. All Julie's subordinates.

Their gazes irked me.

"..."

I could bury this for Julie's sake.

Veron trying to kill me would ruin not just her, but the whole order. Her rigid, inflexible nature would make her blame herself for a subordinate's fault, tormenting herself madly.

For her sake.

However.

I would never pay respects to someone who tried to kill me. Neither Deculein's ego nor Kim Woojin's heart would allow that damned farce...

"...No. We'll go alone."

My silence prompted them to board the train. A tsking sound grated.

"Ha."

A hollow laugh escaped me unwittingly.

Those departing glances.

Those rotten, ignorant minds.

Disgustingly repulsive...

"P-Professor—"

Allen spoke then. I glared and shook my head.

"Allen."

"Y-yes, nee~."

"Speak not a word."

I was furious. Julie's face gone made the rage surge ghostly. Not to be angry would be inhuman.

"Professor."

Another clear voice called.

I turned.

Sylvia.

Large snowflakes piled on her crown and shoulders.

"Why hold back?"

Sylvia watched me as she said it.

I couldn't read her eyes' thoughts. Her steady tone always made her a bit enigmatic.

"Hold back from what."

"..."

Sylvia rummaged her bag silently. She pulled something out.

"Payment."

A single book.

I merely looked.

"Ah, I'll take it..."

Allen reached, but Sylvia didn't give it to him. They tugged; she shoved him off.

I reluctantly accepted the book she extended again.

"Bye."

Bowed Sylvia left with quick steps.

The train was departing then. I watched the roaring black body.

My gaze met Julie's at the window.

Suddenly, my eyes widened.

Julie smiled at me.

Powerless, barely a smile—just the faintest upturn of lips, a bitter one...

...Once a month.

She kept her promise.

Somehow, it purified my heart.

"Truly..."

Even to me, it was a gravely serious emotion.

"Allen."

"Y-yes, nee~!"

"Let us return. I wish to rest."

I turned with Allen.