Pursuit (6)
Cezare Archduke's pleasure yacht slowly entered Trent Port, known as the gateway to Elesina.
The onlookers gasped once at the ship's opulent splendor, then again at the tooth marks riddling its hull like it had been savagely chewed.
"Thank you for carrying us all the way to the capital. I'll never forget that you saved my life."
"Don't say such things. Thanks to your quick thinking, not only my ship but all my clever subjects made it here without a scratch."
"If I hadn't boarded, you wouldn't have faced that ordeal in the first place."
"I invited you first, so such hypotheticals are meaningless. But if you feel that guilty, you must visit Somora Archduchy next time. I'll show you my beautiful palace and city—then you'll change your mind."
"Hahaha... Thank you for the invitation. I'll visit someday."
With that, the two parted ways.
After Calix left, the captain asked Cesare Archduke,
"Didn't he catch your eye?"
"Heh, do you know what the most beautiful thing in this world is?"
"What... out of nowhere?"
"Love."
The captain wore a baffled expression.
"Pardon?"
"This archduke loves beautiful things and wants to possess them, but there's even greater beauty in letting them go untouched."
"Ah, so he already has an owner."
The captain finally nodded in understanding.
His master was infamous as a playboy or homewrecker, yet he'd never once torn apart a couple truly in love.
He'd earned that reputation by comforting those wounded by lovers whose hearts had already strayed—but that was beside the point.
"Hm? Hahaha! Who knows... How can one neatly dissect the tangled hearts of complex people? That's the spice of life."
The archduke flashed a refreshing smile at the captain.
"Captain?"
"Yes, Your Grace."
"Repair the ship."
"Here? It can still make it to Somora Archduchy without issue..."
"I need to attend the Knight Tournament. This one's going to be fun. Hahaha!"
"Understood, Your Grace."
Meanwhile, Calix's group, having disembarked and entered the capital, faced an unexpected hurdle.
"No rooms?"
"People are flooding in from everywhere for the Knight Tournament—no vacancies left. We arrived too late."
"Even the finest inns are fully booked?"
"Yes."
"Damn..."
Calix clutched his forehead.
His vast game knowledge was useless against this absurd situation.
Krout ventured cautiously,
"What shall we do, young master? Shall I arrange farmhouses outside the outer walls?"
"Farmhouses, huh..."
Calix looked reluctant. Staying outside the walls meant peasants, not well-off ones.
Such homes rarely had spare rooms for a whole group.
"Splitting up isn't ideal. The threat isn't fully gone—we can't be sure."
"Ugh, true... but we can't sleep in the stables, right?"
"Hm..."
After a moment's thought, Calix said,
"I've got a good idea."
"Really?"
"Let's rent a salon annex."
"A s-salon?"
Krout gaped in disbelief.
"I know you're curious about that sort of thing at your age, young master, but... even so..."
"What're you on about? Then you sleep in the stables alone."
"Ugh..."
On the Eren Continent, magic had advanced in place of science, so daily conveniences rivaled modern Earth's.
Hot baths via heated water magic, advanced plumbing with no stench.
But only the elite enjoyed it—commoners outside the walls lived much like medieval Earth folk.
Choosing a farmhouse meant bugs and straw bedding, aside from the risks.
Calix wanted to avoid that if possible.
"Quit yapping and follow me."
Silencing Krout, he headed to the capital's largest salon in the entertainment district.
It was broad daylight, past closing hours, so the main gate was shut tight.
Krout knocked reluctantly, and a wizened old man answered.
"Apologies, but we open at dusk."
"I'd like to rent an annex. You don't have bookings, do you?"
"Well, no, but..."
He eyed the twenty-odd men laden with gear suspiciously.
But that lasted only a moment.
Whoosh!
Clink—
Calix tossed a heavy pouch of gold coins to the old man.
His catch was nimble, reflexes sharp for his age.
Weighing the pouch, the old man bowed deeply.
"Right this way, my lords."
"Much obliged."
Inside the gate, dense shrubs trimmed like walls formed a labyrinth.
"Hm, like walking a maze. Probably to keep guests from bumping into each other..."
Calix muttered, scanning around. The old man glanced back in surprise.
"How did you know?"
"Heh, in places like this, guests either get embarrassed or start fights if they cross paths."
"You don't look that old... Best enjoy in moderation."
"Haha. I'll keep that in mind."
The capital's salons weren't cheap brothels for whores, but discreet, upscale social venues.
Poznyu's salon under Madam Hari targeted wealthy mercenaries and merchants; here, the nation's top powers gathered.
Security was paramount, naturally.
The annex was a modest three-story brick building, screened by tall trees like a fence—hard to spy on from afar.
"Better security than most high-end inns."
"And far pricier."
The upright Krout felt uneasy staying here.
"No rooms available. No choice."
"Sigh..."
Resigning with a long breath and a nod, he said,
"Understood. I'll scout for threats nearby."
"Do that."
Night fell.
Yet the estate blazed like day.
Light artifacts replaced bulbs here—expensive, but free to run on mana.
Distant women's tinkling laughter mingled with men's boisterous voices endlessly.
From the third-floor balcony, Calix gazed out, muttering,
"Tch, not a single star. Just like Seoul's night sky."
"Seoul?"
"Gah! You scared me!"
He spun at the voice. Laila stood in the dim room's corner.
"Make some noise when you walk."
"I knocked."
"R-right? So, what's up?"
"You always pick places like this."
"Like what?"
"Salons."
"No, that's..."
"Kidding. No need to explain. I know this isn't some whorehouse."
"Uh... yeah."
Calix started listing reasons for choosing it, then shut his mouth.
Her calling it a joke made excuses sound lame.
"Why's the room so dark? Light."
She activated the light artifact.
The gloom brightened, revealing Calix's face. Laila started.
"What happened to your face? You look like a zombie risen from the grave."
His features were haggard, like he'd pulled all-nighters for days.
"Don't worry. Haven't slept well lately."
"Some worry?"
"Nah."
She stared silently.
Calix said nothing.
Their staring contest dragged minutes.
Calix broke first.
"Sigh... Been having bad dreams a lot."
"Bad dreams...?"
"Y'know, people I've killed show up, choking me."
"Ah... Don't tell me! You avoided killing personally in that ambush because...?"
"Yeah. Haven't overcome the guilt of murder yet."
"They were after your life, young master."
"I know. I think that way too. It's just... that sensation on my palms when flesh tears and blade sinks in. It haunts my head. Endlessly."
Calix's eyes trembled uneasily.
She hesitated, then slowly approached and hugged him.
Their heights matched, but her boot heels buried his face naturally in her soft bosom.
She knew from experience no words could comfort—just sharing warmth sufficed.
Moments later, pulling away, Calix looked awkward.
She didn't know his soul was a thirty-something uncle.
His fragile pride wouldn't let him cling to a girl young enough to be a niece.
"I'm good now."
She saw the lie but stepped back gracefully.
They were lord and knight.
Impulse or not, hugs like that weren't proper.
"A mercenary mage I knew always cast 'Clear Mind' on himself after killing on a job. But the more you repeat it... Anyway, not ideal, but if it's too much, keep it in mind."
Laila chewed her lip, hesitating.
"...Still better than self-harm."
Calix sensed her advice drew from hard experience.
"Thanks. I'll remember."
He smiled lightly, easing her concern.
"Then I'll go."
She bowed slightly, left, and shut the door.
Leaning against it, she sighed deeply.
"Hoo..."
Only after cooling her flushed ears with cold fingers did she head to her room.