A Meteor Falls
“Ghk…! How tragic…! That this body—the genius mage herself—should suffer such humiliation…!”
“This girl’s completely lost it.”
“Why am I even here…?”
In the aftermath of the training-ground explosion, Gordon had promptly hauled the three troublemakers into the office. There they knelt in a tight cluster in the corner, arms raised high overhead, serving out their punishment.
“Come on, at least make us do push-ups or something. I’m twenty-four, not some elementary-school kid…”
“After pulling a stunt even elementary-schoolers wouldn’t dare, complaining about your age carries zero persuasive power.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The punishment itself wasn’t especially harsh, yet a strapping young man (former tense) who had even completed his military service found himself enduring the exact same penalty a grade-schooler gets for running in the hallway. The sheer humiliation made him grumble—until Freya’s sharp glare pinned him in place and shut his mouth at once.
“Haa… So you were trying out a new magic staff…? A gun? And that’s how this happened?”
“Yes! Unfortunately there are still flaws in durability and stability, but with this initial prototype I can create an even more perfect and outstanding model—”
“Quiet.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Huu…”
Freya felt the tension climbing up the back of her neck and let out a long sigh.
“My daughter’s always been like that, but son—if you start catching it too, what am I supposed to do?”
“Well… honestly, once I saw it was shaped like a gun I just really wanted to fire it, you know… Dad, you get it! Guns are a man’s romance!”
“...I understand the feeling, but you do realize this time went too far, right? We were lucky no one was nearby. What if someone had been walking past and gotten seriously hurt?”
“That’s…! Um… I’m sorry.”
“Tene. You should have stopped them. What were you thinking, cheerfully volunteering to be the target?”
“Aww… they’re all older than me—big brothers and sisters—and even if I try to stop them they never listen…”
“...You’re right. Tene, you haven’t done anything wrong. With siblings like that… don’t stay over there—come out here.”
“Yes!”
“Traitor.”
“Next experiment I’m burning those panties to ash…!”
When Freya finally turned her gaze to Tene and saw those cheeks puffed out with pure injustice, she simply couldn’t bring herself to scold the girl and exempted her on the spot. The moment the words left Freya’s mouth, Tene beamed and slipped away from her place beside the other two. Pat and Mat fixed her with looks of utter betrayal.
“Anyway, daughter? Consider your allowance cut off for the time being.”
“Eeeek…! W-wait a second, Dad! I still need money to buy the mana stones for the next experiment…!”
“That’s what makes it a proper punishment, isn’t it? Take a break from magic experiments for a while and cool your head.”
“Uwaaa…”
“Heh heh. Serves you right.”
“Son? You’ll be wearing nothing but dresses for the next three days.”
“....Excuse me? No, hang on. Come on. You’re joking, right?”
“I’ll have Bennet check as well, so don’t even think about any clever work-arounds. If you break the rule, the period doubles.”
“Father!! No—Dad!!! Please…! Anything but that…!”
And so the two precious children paid a heavy price for their mischief, faces falling into pure despair.
“Huu… What a mess.”
“My lady, I have prepared your milk tea.”
“Thank you, Gordon.”
After handing down suitable punishments to the two siblings, Freya pressed her fingers to her brow and exhaled deeply. The sight of the teacup of milk tea that had appeared on the table smoothed the crease from her forehead once more.
“I’m already busy enough, and while my children are terribly cute and lovable, when they go around causing disasters like this it wears me out. Being a parent is always such a heavy seat.”
“Even so, I find their present selves far preferable to the young master and young lady of the past.”
Freya was airing her parental grievances, yet Gordon answered with a warm, contented smile.
“Lately I often see the children who work in the mansion laughing quite freely. The atmosphere of the estate, which used to be so stiff and frozen, seems to be melting into something gentler… and this old man finds himself foolishly thinking that is a good thing.”
“...Is that so?”
Before the family had possessed them, the Evergarden mansion had been a sheet of thin ice. The two siblings had treated the servants with constant coercion and free use of their fists, while the couple had ignored the entire mood of the house and simply squandered the fortune in endless revelry. The staff had endured that tyranny day after day simply to survive. Now they worked with smiles, growing brighter by the hour, and Gordon hoped such days would continue.
“...Still, casually blasting a giant crater into the training grounds is something they really ought to restrain themselves from.”
“That… ahem. Yes… I do believe a measure of restraint would be advisable.”
Even Gordon found himself wishing they would cause just a little less trouble.
“First we should move quickly through today’s schedule.”
“Understood. Sir Fenril?”
“Yes, my lord. I am here.”
Thud—
Freya took a sip of milk tea, set the cup down, and picked up her quill. Catching Gordon’s signal at once, Fenril deposited a heavy stack of documents onto the work desk.
“These are the compiled reports on the merchant guilds seeking to establish themselves in the new district. The contents have been organized through our existing information network and careful analysis.”
“Hey, old man. Don’t act like you did it all yourself so casually. Who do you think actually brought in that intel?”
“What, taking credit over something this minor? As expected, still nothing more than a pup.”
“What did you just say, you old fossil?”
“What’s the matter? A dog that can do nothing but snarl, just as I thought.”
“...Hah. Getting senile, are we? Looking for your own grave plot already—admirable attitude.”
“Hoh…”
As Fenril set the documents down and practically wagged her tail for praise, Gordon smoothly stole the credit. Enraged, she bared her sharp fangs and snapped at him. Gordon and Fenril had become Freya’s right and left hands in all but name, yet the two of them remained on thoroughly hostile terms. Had Freya not been present, they looked ready to draw polearms and tear the entire room apart.
“Enough. I do not recall bringing a dog that snaps at its master in front of me.”
“...I apologize.”
“Forgive me, my lord…”
Freya halted them both with nothing more than a faint smile. For all her words, Fenril and Gordon were indispensable talents to her. She wanted to keep them on good terms as much as possible, and she made a quiet note to find some opportunity later to mend their relationship.
“There certainly are a lot of them. Far too many for a minor territory like ours.”
Having mediated the pair, Freya murmured as she eyed the piled documents. In the process of cleaning out the back alleys she had slashed a number of excessive taxes—among them the import, export, and transaction rates that merchants loved. She had expected the merchant guilds that had been watching from the sidelines to start trickling in one by one, yet the actual number was a full 1.3 times higher than predicted.
“My lord, you should take the special nature of our territory into account.”
“True enough. We have almost no major merchant guilds of our own and have relied on itinerant traders until now.”
The reason was simple. Most territories already hosted large guilds that had put down roots for anywhere from a few years to several decades, making it extremely inconvenient for a new merchant guild to enter. The classic ladder-kicking was everywhere. Evergarden, however, was different. There was no merchant guild at all to keep newcomers in check. Until now even establishing a foothold would have meant heavy losses from the high tax rates, but with the rates adjusted that risk had vanished. Thus Evergarden Territory had become a land of opportunity—a place where a merchant guild could plant new roots. The first to take hold successfully might, with a little luck, grow into a colossal guild that dominated the entire fief. Merchants were a group that always chased profit. It was only natural they would set their sights on Evergarden.
“Well then, shall we check them one by one?”
Freya began reading through the documents Fenril had prepared, sheet by sheet.
“Hmm… As expected, most of these guilds are already quite large.”
She confirmed that the results she had anticipated were unfolding on the pages. The bigger a guild’s bulk, the faster its information and the swifter its decisions. Opening a branch in a territory required considerable capital—yet the great merchant guilds overflowing with capital had decided that amount was well within their means and had contacted Evergarden at once.
“Rickval, Leon, Hansent… I’ve heard all of these names somewhere before.”
That Freya, who had only been in this world for two or three months, could vaguely recall their names spoke volumes about how wide their influence stretched. She flipped through the papers at a rapid clip.
“—This is…?”
Then her hand stopped on one particular document, her gaze locking onto it.
“Ah, that guild. We found it a bit unusual ourselves. The amount of information is small, and we’ve barely heard any talk of where they operate… We’re treating it as a newly formed guild.”
Fenril shrugged as she answered Freya’s reaction.
“Ha… haha… Of course you would.”
“...Pardon?”
“There’s no way I could forget. There’s simply no way I could ever forget…!”
Freya’s reaction was anything but ordinary. Her pupils trembled as though she had seen a ghost, cold sweat beading on her forehead—as if she were looking at something that absolutely should not exist.
“...Sir Fenril?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Arrange a meeting with this guild as quickly as possible. Highest priority.”
“Y-yes…? Y-yes! Understood.”
For a moment Freya’s mouth worked soundlessly, unable to form words. Then she immediately ordered contact with that guild and sent Fenril out. A beat late, Fenril nodded and hurried from the room.
“M-my lady? What is the matter…?”
“How… how can something like this even be possible…?”
Gordon, who had remained at her side, glanced after Fenril’s rapid departure and then turned back to Freya with the question. She did not seem to hear him at all; she clutched her head with both hands and muttered under her breath.
One of the documents lying on the desk teetered on the edge, then slipped and fluttered to the floor.
A capital letter H, with a single star motif falling across it like a meteor.
The very logo of Hansung Corporation—
the conglomerate that rose from bare earth
to become one of the Republic of Korea’s foremost enterprises.