Opportunity
Opportunity
It was coincidence.
He was simply passing by. He hadn't even had any reason to look that way.
"My lords. What exactly happened here?"
"There will be an official announcement from the royal family soon. Move along."
But someone who couldn't suppress their curiosity spoke to the soldiers, and only then did the half-destroyed mansion—wrecked from the entrance to the main building—catch his eye, belatedly sparking his interest.
And that coincidence led to an unexpected discovery.
The moment he spotted it, the man's robes fluttered as he rushed toward the mansion, practically running.
"I will be entering."
At that utterly commanding attitude, the soldiers—who had been about to frown as if dealing with a madman—instantly snapped to attention and stepped aside to the left and right, but the man paid them no mind. His gaze and his mind were already fixed elsewhere; his surroundings didn't even register.
The people continuing the on-site investigation inside had initially thrown him looks as if questioning who the hell he was, but after getting a proper look at his robes and face, they merely stepped back and offered no objection.
Scattering a pale blue light trail from his eyes, he walked up to the second floor and arrived at the space that had been Count Envelde's office. Gazing at one bewildered field agent, he asked,
"Was it an attack by the Demonfolk?"
"Ah, no, sir. I find it difficult to speak on the details as the formal disclosure procedures have not yet been completed, but the Demonfolk was not involved."
The agent couldn't quite bring himself to say, *If the Demonfolk had been involved, we'd have brought you in, not me.* So he finished his answer and simply bowed his head.
He was nothing more than a mere field investigation agent, but the man before him was one of the leading authorities on Demonfolk research and a mage who managed a library.
However, upon hearing that answer, a completely different light began to glint in the man's eyes, and an expression of astonishment painted over his face, which had been surveying the surroundings with coolly rational eyes until he'd reached the office.
"Who is in charge of this incident?"
"Th-that would be His Excellency, Duke Lesrom of the Noble Council."
"Thank you."
The man did not hesitate. Leaving the mansion with strides that were indistinguishable from a full sprint, he immediately cast magic and flew into the sky.
A mage flying in the capital was a serious crime, but the man didn't care in the slightest. Not now, when he might have seized a clue to something far more important.
But Duke Lesrom, who found himself greeting this sudden visitor at his window—a man committing such a transgression—couldn't help but furrow his brow.
"I know full well it's no light matter if you've resorted to flight magic to get here, but would it be too much to ask you to come through the door like a normal person? For a way to show your face after several years, I rather think this is hardly a dignified approach."
"A waste of time."
The man looked at least twenty years younger than Duke Lesrom to anyone's eyes, yet the way he dropped formal speech was utterly natural. Even Duke Lesrom himself merely shook his head, making no comment on his attitude.
"Fine, it's been a while since I've heard that too. What business do you have?"
"The mansion of Count Envelde da Bosha. Who did it?"
"...Why do you ask?"
Had there been some connection between the man and Envelde? As far as Duke Lesrom knew, absolutely none.
Then, had there been some trace that caught his interest? To be honest, he was skeptical about that too.
His longtime colleague was an eccentric who suppressed his aging solely for the research of the Demonfolk and Magic Power, holing himself up in his library or wandering the world. The kind of thing to catch his interest would be, at the very least, people connected to magic—not swordsmen like Envelde and Eldmia.
"Student."
"Hmm?"
"There was once someone I tried to take as a student. Do you remember?"
"I do remember. Hasn't it been ten years already? That was the first and last time you ever spoke of such a thing, so it'd be harder to forget. Didn't you say they died?"
He remembered it because it was the day his stoic friend—whose satisfied smile was so rare it was near-impossible to see—had shown a faint smile.
And he also remembered how, upon returning after going to fulfill a promise, that friend had despaired with such sincerity.
That old friend, his eyes recovered to a life unseen for years, answered now.
"They may be alive. So tell me. Who did it?"
Amidst an impulse to press firmly against his own temples, Duke Lesrom fell into contemplation over his choice of words.
"Is the name, by any chance, Eldmia?"
And before that contemplation could properly continue, a severe headache began to surge.
It felt as if a friend who wandered without promise, showing his face only after years, had once again brought a storm with him.
◈
"Ah... achoo!"
"Oh my. Ega, have you caught a cold?"
"My nose just suddenly tickled."
I said it, but I had my doubts. Still, I didn't feel any of the precursors to a cold. I hadn't caught a single cold since being reborn into this life. It'd be a real shame if that streak broke today.
"We're nearly there now, so I'll at least get you some medicine once we arrive. It's less a cold remedy and more of something to warm the body and help you sleep deeply, but it helps surprisingly well."
Rellie said with a smile, pointing into the distance and saying "That's the one." The building she indicated was, unexpectedly, one I already knew.
"That was a squirrel?"
"Haha, seeing your reaction, you did know about it."
It had stuck in my memory because it was so bizarre. I'd walked past it before thinking, *What is that, a twisted-nether honey badger?* A squirrel, my ass. It was patently clear the sign maker had never once seen a squirrel in his entire life.
Still, aside from that uniquely bizarre sign, the inn had an extremely neat exterior and interior, and I had memories of occasionally glancing it over as I passed by.
"Now that I think about it, if we were going to buy this much stuff, wouldn't it have been better to ask Yekaterina for help?"
"If I ask her for something like that, she latches onto me and kicks up a fuss about making me exercise whenever she gets a chance. She'd be like, 'Rellie, I'm saying this out of concern as a friend, but if you're having trouble carrying this much, that means there's an issue with your basic daily survival activities. Let's start exercising together tomorrow.'"
The way Rellie mimicked Yekaterina's tone, so vividly that it was clear she'd experienced it several times, left me with no choice but to laugh. That aside, her vocabulary was remarkably intellectual. Was Yekaterina a civilization warrior after all?
"Now that you mention it, Ega, you've got some incredible muscles yourself, don't you?"
"I do pride myself on having trained to some degree. Though I thought the clothes would make me look only bulky. You've got a keen eye to notice."
Of course, 'to some degree' was an understatement. It was the number-one crystallization of all the effort I'd put into this current life, something I was confident in enough to rank it at the top—but I responded with humility.
"Ah, Ega, do you not realize it because it's your own body? When you're fighting, your back muscles are practically trying to tear through your clothes."
"Pfft. Wait, seriously?"
"Yes. Not a joke, seriously. I was thinking, 'If I stood you next to Yekaterina, the enemies would piss themselves on sight.'"
Yekaterina really had been no joke back at the abandoned dungeon. Same went for when we dealt with those mercenary bastards in the forest.
"True enough, someone like Yekaterina is threatening even with her arms crossed."
"That applies to you exactly the same way, Ega, you know?"
"I'm well aware. I use it often."
As we entered the inn trading light jokes, the contrast with the increasingly bustling streets outside was stark: the hall was utterly tranquil, and on one side, a group gathered together who looked like they'd just ordered lunch met my eyes.
"Oh? How did you manage to bring Eldmia?"
"A truly astonishing coincidence. Met him on the road. We'd talked about the meal invitation, but he didn't have a clue where the inn was, so it worked out nicely."
While Rellie answered, setting down the luggage she'd carried over to the wall where Yekaterina was sitting—the latter's eyes gone perfectly round—I gave a light greeting, and Mr. Gin stroked his beard and spoke up.
"Hoho, it makes you wonder if this isn't some kind of genuine bond."
"That's the charm of being an adventurer, isn't it."
Looking at Mr. Gin and Gaendal, speaking with such affable smiles, it was thoroughly heartwarming.
If I hadn't gotten tangled up with those Demonfolk bastards, this was the kind of life I'd have dreamed of—adventuring together with party members like these. It left me feeling just a little complicated.
"Anyway, the fact that you were trying to figure out where the inn was means you agreed, right?"
"I myself am always welcome, but I'd need to check with my sister. Not immediately, but I'll pay a visit soon."
"Well, that's practically agreeing! Since you're here, at least have a meal before you go! The food will be out soon. It's been quite a while since we ordered!"
Huh? I'd just personally watched the server take the order and walk away. What kind of flimsy lie was that?
But it wasn't just Yekaterina who was cheerfully smiling and offering me a seat, so I decided not to refuse and quietly sat down. They were telling a white lie out of kindness—how could I ignore that?
After that, until the food came out, I answered questions similar to the ones Rellie had asked, chatting about the events of the last few days, and as the conversation circled around, the topic of the Dragon Blood Clan came up once again.
"Hahaha! It's more or less a folk belief of the Ravil people. It's one of those stories only those in the know tend to know. That fellow might have been surprisingly well-read."
"Since he said he'd fought on the Demonfolk front before, I also wondered if he might have seen them firsthand at least once."
"Oh, really? Then he must have been a fellow with some skill."
"That's what I thought too, but he was completely lackluster."
Unlike the others who laughed, Rellie—having heard the story separately earlier—now wore an expression of finally, clearly understanding why I hadn't received a detailed explanation about the Dragon Blood Clan.