Chapter 35
Chapter 35
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: uly
Chapter: 35
Chapter Title: Return and Retribution
-----------------------------------------------------------------
*
“We've arrived, milord!”
I opened my eyes at the coachman's booming shout. Still in a hazy daze, I blinked a few times before realizing I'd unwittingly dozed off.
Glancing to the side, I saw the elf fast asleep just like me. She was leaning back against the seat, her head resting against the carriage wall.
‘She must have been exhausted.’
No wonder—yesterday, I'd made her start that painting from scratch, so she must have pulled an all-nighter. Even for a grand archmage, accumulated fatigue in the body was something she couldn't ignore.
I considered waking her but decided against it. Her sleeping suited me just fine. I pressed a finger to my lips, silencing the coachman from saying anything more, then stepped out of the carriage.
Feeling stiff and groggy, I took a few steps forward. That's when Harbid, the head steward, and Baynen, the vassal knight, approached me.
“Performing the regent's duties must have been trying, Family Head.”
“Welcome back safe and sound, young master.”
I nodded in greeting, then fixed my gaze on Baynen.
“Nothing out of the ordinary at the estate?”
“Huh? I wouldn't know. You should ask the head steward about that.”
“I'm asking what you've been up to over the past week.”
“Well... As a vassal knight, I just guarded the estate as usual. Nothing happened.”
“So you slacked off.”
Caught with a guilty conscience, Baynen let out a fake cough.
“Young master, your words seem a bit sharp today.”
“Not at all. I'm simply grateful to the God of Light that the Deharm family's sole vassal knight is alive and well, lounging in peace.”
“Hah. If you'd given me any specific orders, I'd have handled them, but you left for the earl's castle without a word, didn't you? I feel wronged here.”
“If I'd given specific orders, you'd have carried them out diligently?”
“Of course. I swear it on my knightly honor.”
You've taken the bait, Baynen. I grinned and pointed to the baggage wagon behind me.
“Then carry out my order now. Drag the prisoner out of that wagon and take him to sector 21 on Skygarden Street. There should be a flower shop there. The owner's name is Haria. Ask her how a criminal should be punished.”
“Wait, I'm a vassal knight, not some errand boy.”
“Hm? Didn't you just say with your own mouth that you'd carry out any specific orders diligently—even invoking your knightly honor?”
Baynen's eyebrows twitched. His face twisted like a beast caught in a trap, fierce and savage, but I wasn't scared in the least.
“I figured someone who values knightly traditions wouldn't break his oath.”
I sneered mockingly, daring him to argue back. Baynen let out an incredulous chuckle.
“You seem to be getting sharper by the day, young master.”
“I'll take that as a compliment.”
With a low sigh, Baynen trudged toward the baggage wagon as if he had no choice.
“Come out, you criminal scum!”
He didn't forget to vent his frustration either.
*
Just as Theorad had ordered, Baynen found the flower shop in sector 21 on Skygarden Street.
The shop was run by a widow raising her three-year-old son alone. She greeted him brightly at first, but screamed in terror upon seeing the criminal “Mernan.”
She recognized him instantly as the man who'd killed her husband. Baynen explained the situation, and once she'd calmed down, the widow begged him to make Mernan suffer the exact same agonies her husband had endured—asking for the cruelest death possible.
She also expressed her gratitude to Theorad, offering money she'd saved from running the flower shop, but Baynen refused it. He knew Theorad wouldn't accept.
“H-Hey!”
And so, a simple execution was underway in a wide clearing deep in the woods. Baynen tossed the rope over a sturdy tree branch and pulled it taut. His indifferent eyes turned to Mernan.
“What? Got something to say?”
“Y-Yeah! Spare me, and I'll tell you where my treasure's hidden!”
“Oh? And where's that?”
“I'll tell you if you let me live. I swear!”
“No can do. Why should I trust you?”
Baynen yanked the rope tight, securing it to a stake driven into the ground.
“Gack!”
The noose around Mernan's neck pulled upward as the rope went taut. But he wouldn't die immediately—Baynen adjusted it so he could breathe just by standing on tiptoes.
With his arms and legs bound, Mernan had no choice but to take it. Sensing the peril, he gasped roughly.
“Th-Then... if I tell you first, will you spare me?”
“Naturally. I swear it on my knightly honor.”
“A-Alright. Go to the basement of the Black Wheat Tavern. There's a brick that's a different color from the others. Press the one three to the left and five down—it opens a secret room. That's where I've stashed my fortune! For real!”
Pretty specific. Doesn't sound like a lie.
Baynen stroked his prickly beard and nodded nonchalantly.
“I'll put your money to good use. But I can't grant your request. I'm sworn to the young master. Even if the emperor himself ordered it, if he said no, I wouldn't do it.”
Baynen still remembered Theorad's father, Wellian, the previous Family Head of the Deharm barony. And Wellian's dying words:
— Baynen, take good care of my son. He's kind-hearted and might get caught up in court intrigues and be in danger. I'll give you all the money you like.
But Baynen hadn't taken a single coin. He was simply following his lord's final command. It was the last request from the man who'd granted a mere mercenary like him a knighthood and let him live like a human.
Of course, Mernan had no way of knowing that.
“Wh-What! You just swore on your knightly honor!”
“I did. But breaking my knightly honor is part of my knightly honor.”
What nonsense is this? Mernan gaped in shock, but Baynen just scratched his head and backed away.
“Out of pity, one tip: don't bother with tiptoes—just hang and die. Wolves come out here at dusk. Better than being torn apart alive by them, right?”
“You lying dog...!”
“Not a phrase I wanted to hear from a murderer who killed an innocent. Anyway, do what you want. Since I got paid, I'll say a prayer for your soul.”
Baynen flashed a grin, mounted his horse, and gave its flank a light kick. The horse, which had been grazing, lifted its head and ambled forward leisurely.
“You damned wretch! Who made a knight out of trash like you...!”
The curses shouted from behind sounded almost melodic. Humming a tune, Baynen raised his middle finger and shook it dismissively.
*
After sending Baynen off, I entered the manor with Harbid.
Harbid droned on about everything that had happened at the estate during the week I was away—mostly trivial matters about the workshop slaves or how the servants handled their duties.
Nothing major seemed to have occurred, so I nodded along vaguely as he spoke. When he finished, he handed me a letter.
“This letter arrived while you were away from the manor, Family Head.”
“I see.”
I stopped in my tracks and turned to look down at it. It was the letter the earl had mentioned beforehand. Sealed with the roaring lion emblem, it was unmistakably from the imperial palace.
Composing myself, I took the letter, broke the seal, and read the contents.
『To Theorad Deharm of Felgaroin Earldom,
I have taken an interest in that ‘artificial rainfall’ magic you've been researching for the past eight years.
According to your theory, even prolonged droughts from failed rains wouldn't pose a major problem.
If completed, it would advance not only agriculture and hydrology but could even sway the tides of battle on the field.
Yet why, three years ago, did you suddenly refuse imperial research funding?
I hear the research has stalled, and out of burden, you declined support—but isn't it a vassal's duty to accept the empire's aid and pour your heart into it all the more when progress is slow?
Manipulating the climate is akin to dominating the heavens, so I understand the mental strain well. But an unfinished study is a mark of laziness and a deception against the crown.
I add that I do not care for the slothful.
Thus, one week hence, in the afternoon, I shall send an auditor accompanied by a few palace mages. Report every detail of your artificial rainfall research progress.
Benelia von Esteban』
The stark name, devoid of any flourishes, sent a chill down my spine.
‘Benelia...’
The unprecedented, iron-blooded princess without equal before or since.
The youngest daughter of His Imperial Majesty the Emperor—who had two sons and three daughters—and the Minister of Military Affairs commanding the imperial direct combat forces, renowned far and wide.
She'd held her coming-of-age ceremony last year. Despite being last in the line of succession as the youngest princess, she was steadily carving out her place in the palace, enough that ministers occasionally whispered her name.
‘Why is someone like her after me...?’
I understood the appeal. In theory, ‘artificial rainfall’ magic could become a cradle of abundance for the entire empire if completed.
But that was just theory. The reason I'd refused imperial funding three years ago wasn't because progress was slow.
‘...Artificial rainfall is a magic that can never be completed.’
The ambitions were grand, but my talent couldn't support them. It was too vast and complex for me to handle, and the more I pursued it, the clearer it became that realization was impossible.
So I'd given up. Continuing with imperial funding would be like pouring water into a bottomless jar.
But now, out of nowhere, they demand a progress report? With just one week—tight as it is.
‘Why are you doing this to me?’
I felt like bursting into tears. I knew the earl held me in high regard and had spoken well of me to the palace, but they'd taken that high regard and cranked it up, summoning a mere two-legged beast like me to the heavens. Frustration overwhelmed me.
“Head steward.”
I let out a low sigh and tucked the letter into my bosom.
“Do you know when this letter arrived?”
“Precisely four days ago, sir.”
“Four days ago?”
It felt like a hammer blow to the head.
“Why didn't you tell me sooner?”
“My apologies. I didn't wish to disturb you while you were diligently handling regent duties, and the witch who delivered it said it wasn't urgent...”
My head spun. That left me with barely three days.
But I couldn't blame Harbid. Reading an imperial letter before the recipient was, strictly speaking, high treason.
And with the witch saying it wasn't urgent, Harbid bore no fault.
With no one to blame, I just felt empty. I opened my mouth, closed it, hesitated in an indescribable turmoil, then finally forced the words out.
“Understood. I've heard everything, so go to the carriage, wake the elf slave, and bring the chest from the earl.”
“Yes, sir. The chest, you say?”
“The gold and jewels the earl gave me for performing the regent role well. It's extra-budget revenue, so treat the workshop slaves to expensive meat and liquor, give the servants about thirty percent extra pay as a bonus for their hard work, and store the rest in the vault.”
A kindly smile spread across Harbid's face as he received the instructions.
“Most generous, sir. I can already picture the servants and slaves rejoicing. One more thing—some slaves, even though their contract service periods have ended, are refusing emancipation.”
Huh? That's news to me.