Chapter 261: To See the Sea (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 261: To See the Sea (1)
The air was thick with the aroma of butter, garlic, and a touch of black pepper.
As Eila peeled the snow-white meat from its bright red shell, the rich scent of butter intensified. The roasted broccoli, the onions cooked to a perfect crisp, and the yellow bell peppers all carried that same buttery fragrance.
"You didn't have to use this much butter."
Veronica's eyes widened as Eila spoke, setting the discarded shell aside.
"You can talk?"
Eila nodded and popped a piece of perfectly grilled lobster into her mouth. The white bead on the hairpin holding her hair up swayed, catching the light.
"Hearing ‘too much butter’ as the first thing you say in three days is a bit of a letdown," Veronica said. "You could have at least said ‘nice to meet you’ or introduced yourself."
"It's better than my first words in three days being 'you have no manners.'"
It had been five days since Eila arrived at Alan's house and three since she’d met Veronica. Technically, this was the first time she had opened her mouth in five days.
Veronica gave a sheepish grin. "Sorry. Did I offend you?"
"I said you have no manners, not that I was offended. Do as you please."
Even as a marquis's granddaughter, Veronica knew it was rude to speak informally to an elder whose status she didn't know. That was why she had asked for permission to speak casually. Eila hadn't responded, so Veronica took her silence as consent.
"I grew up watching my grandfather. Sorry," Veronica said, using Alan as an excuse, as she always did. In truth, while Alan’s words were sharp, he never spoke informally to strangers.
Since Veronica had already reverted to her informal speech and Eila had told her to do as she pleased, Eila simply nodded. She pushed aside a slightly undercooked, translucent onion and picked up a piece of broccoli.
Watching her, Veronica spoke up. "Why are you hiding here?"
Calian lacked attention to detail, and Alan was always busy. As a result, they had sent Eila to the empty estate without explaining to Veronica who was staying there or why. They simply hadn't considered that Veronica, who lived with Rachel, would have any reason to drop by.
Neither of them would ever know how shocked Veronica had been when she stopped by on the evening of Eila's second day. Nor would they—or Veronica herself—ever know that upon their first encounter, Eila had silently slipped a dagger back into concealment behind her.
"I have my reasons," Eila replied curtly, unable to reveal that she was a fugitive from the neighboring kingdom.
Her response was far from warm, but Veronica simply nodded and asked another question. "Are you a sword user?"
"What makes you think that?"
"You don't seem like a mage."
"I thought you'd ask if I was Marquis Manasil's mistress first. That's an unusual question."
"Grandfather isn't the type to forget his age."
"Just because someone isn't a mage doesn't mean they wield a sword."
"I know. But usually, the people who come to Grandfather's house use at least one of the two."
Of course, the only person who used both was Prince Calian.
Eila stared at Veronica for a moment before picking up another piece of white lobster meat. "I use a sword. And I'm one of the 3rd Prince's people."
"I knew it." Pleased that her guess was correct, Veronica extended her hand. "Nice to meet you. I'm Veronica. I want to work with medicine, not swords or magic. My hair and speech are from my grandfather, and my looks are from my mom, so I'm trying to make sure the rest of me takes after my dad."
Eila looked at Veronica for a moment, then set her fork down and took her hand. "I'll tell you my name later. Nice to meet you too."
Having finished their strangely ordered conversation—which began with a complaint about butter and ended with introductions—Veronica stood up.
"My mom should be home soon, so I have to go. I'll be back tomorrow. Is there anything you want to eat? I'll make it for you."
"...Raw oysters."
She had seemed perfectly at home eating seafood, and now she was requesting oysters.
"People in Kairisis aren't that fond of seafood, so I don't know if anywhere sells them. I'll look around tomorrow." As Veronica replied, she wondered if Eila’s love for seafood and connection to Calian meant she was from the House of Duke Siegfried.
Just then, a cheerful voice echoed from outside the door.
— Welcome to the home of the Archmage, Alan Manasil!
Eila's brow furrowed as she recalled her own memorable encounter with the cute stone statue, which had nearly ended with her smashing the gatekeeper to pieces.
The front door clicked open and shut, and someone stepped inside. He bowed slightly to Veronica, who waved at him. He had pale, light-blue hair, a shade lighter than Eila's eyes.
It was Kyrie.
He looked at Eila for a moment, his expression unreadable. "Please rise," he said. "The Prince is looking for you."
And with that, he delivered the news that she wouldn't be eating raw oysters anytime soon.
*
The chaos following Evan's death had finally begun to settle. Punishments had been dealt, urgent matters resolved, and a major personnel reshuffle had taken place.
So, was it not now time to hand out rewards?
Vacations were granted to the Valkan mages, who had spent nearly a month on high alert, tense and vigilant over the safety of the royal palace. Of course, they couldn't all rest at once, so they rotated in fifteen-day shifts.
And that was how it all started.
Rather than sleeping, the mages—who had completely forgotten how to rest—crawled out of their homes and gathered. They were sipping sparkling water and debating how Arsen broke swords when they spotted the man himself. His vacation hadn't started yet, so he was on his way home from work.
Delighted to run into his subordinates, Arsen joined them. He flatly refused the sparkling water and ordered a beer. After spending the time it took to drink exactly two glasses explaining how he broke swords, he got up and left.
As he was walking home, he spotted a welcome head of purple hair.
"Kid. Perfect timing."
"Is something the matter?"
"Yeah. I wanted to see Marquis Manasil about a gift from Libern, but he seemed busy. I also have something to say about Prince Calian, so let's talk if you have a moment."
"Yes, understood."
The two found a table on a tavern terrace, a perfect spot for a private conversation. After Euria cast a Silent spell to prevent eavesdropping, she made sure Arsen stuck to just two glasses of beer so he wouldn't get drunk.
"Prince Calian said he’ll make it so I won't have to be an information network boss much longer," Euria said. "I think the Association mages who were being wasted on that can finally move on to other work."
"Yeees."
"Also, Libern sent over a magic tool made of a thick crystal plate. It seems to be for communication. I've never seen one before, but that's what the description says. So, if Marquis Manasil has some free time, please let him know I'd like to visit."
"Ah..."
Arsen's reaction was definitely strange. Wondering if his alcohol tolerance had somehow gotten even worse, Euria stared at him.
Arsen grinned. "You see, President... I was on my way back after having two glasses earlier. I thought I'd be fine since some time had passed, President..."
"...Damn it."
Forget conversation and delivering messages—Euria was too busy defending her fries from an Arsen who had now downed four glasses of beer. A curse slipped from her lips.
"But what about the chick? Commander Jeia said it would only take about twenty days to hatch, President."
"Oh, it must be dead. It's not hatching. I'm just going to fry it up tomorrow."
"Our President is so cruel. You said you were going to raise a chick, but saying you'll eat it is just hurtful, President."
As he spoke, Arsen lightly tapped the table. With a sharp crackle, a streak of ice shot out and froze the plate of fries she had pushed far away.
"...Never mind."
Euria picked up a frozen fry, set it back down, and downed a glass of rather decent Basilica. She then pulled an egg—thoroughly protected with both warming and shock-absorption magic—out of her bag, placed it on the table, and said, "I should just eat it now. That would be better."
Somehow understanding her, Arsen quickly snatched the egg away. "No, President. Poor egg."
"I feel worse for those fries and the four glasses of beer in your stomach."
As they bickered, tussling over the egg as one tried to eat it and the other tried to save it—
Crack!
A hairline fracture appeared on the snow-white egg. Instantly, both mages froze.
Crack, crack!
Regardless of their shock, another crack formed. Arsen’s eyes widened as he looked at Euria. "No way."
Just as the words Is it really hatching? hovered on the tip of Euria's tongue—
Cr-crack!
A slightly louder sound rang out, and before long, a tiny thing popped out of the eggshell. It had pitch-black eyes and yellow downy feathers, still wet but promising to be fluffy once dry.
And a blunt beak.
"Hmm."
...A blunt beak?
"A duck?"
"Cheep!"
A cute, tiny duckling was staring at Arsen.
The blue-haired mage, who couldn't tell a duck egg from a chicken egg, smiled warmly at the purple-haired mage, who also couldn't tell a duck egg from a chicken egg, and spoke in a dashing voice.
"This is a duck from me, President."
With a thud, he slammed his head onto the table and fell fast asleep.
*
He said it didn't mean "pea."
It was a relief, but the bastard had laughed.
'It doesn't mean that, so you don't have to worry...'
He had even trailed off. The bastard was terrible at lying.
'I told you I'll tell you when you're older. Stop being so curious.'
No matter how many times Franz asked what on earth his name meant, Calian kept repeating the same thing. He had no idea how much older he had to get, but his brother simply refused to speak. Then Franz remembered Calian was the older brother, which only made him more annoyed.
"Thoughts."
A quiet voice came from behind him.
Clatter! Clang!
Franz spun around, parrying the two swords that lunged at him the moment the voice faded.
"You shouldn't let thoughts enter your sword."
"...I know."
Lost in thought without realizing it, Franz gripped his sword tightly again. He had been debating whether to steal that ring while the bastard was washing up after their spar. Then he could ask the bird-loving, purple-eyed person what the name meant.
Knowing he shouldn't think didn't mean he was going to stop.
Clash!
Two swords lunged toward Franz's eyes. He raised both his blades to block, then pulled back his right sword and thrust it forward.
Clang!
Naturally, the strike was blocked with a sharp ring of steel. The tense sound made Franz frown slightly.
Come to think of it, what was it? What had forced the bastard—who kept telling him not to think—to recuperate for nearly a month?
Clang!
His left hand, which had blocked a swing, went numb. Before he could register the sensation, he thrust his right sword forward again to block an attack from above.
Soon, the sword in Franz's left hand aimed for Calian's neck. Calian's other sword deflected it and lunged toward Franz at the speed of light.
Clash!
"...Brother."
Calian lowered his swords, his gaze fixed on Franz, who had just deflected a blade aimed squarely at his face. "I've told you, if you have too many thoughts, you die."
"What about you?"
"I didn't die."
Giving a dismissive answer to Franz's unspoken question about his fight with Evan, Calian took a step back. "We still haven't heard from the King of Secritia. We don't know what he's plotting, and even Crown Prince Chase hasn't detected anything. If you're going to think about something, focus on that. It's not just my business, after all. If you're going to be curious, be curious about your own affairs, not mine."
The dark red swords in Calian's hands vanished into thin air.
"Oh, and not about the meaning of your name. I won't tell you until you're older."
"Keep barking."
Calian smiled brightly at Franz's retort and looked out the training ground window. The sky had grown dark, and faint moonlight was shining through.
"The bird I found a few days ago will arrive soon. For now, she will be in charge of finding and sending the sacred artifacts. Once we get a clue about Zeon, I plan to have her act as my eyes and ears instead of the Association President. Marquis Brissen's faction will be quiet for a while, but they will likely try to contact Brother Randel, so we must keep an eye on them. He is a man who knows his position won't be secure as long as you are around, Brother."
Franz's brow furrowed slightly as he listened.
Calian continued, "You can practice the swordsmanship I taught you with Kyrie. I've already asked my teacher about magic, but if he's busy, practice with Sir Hertz."
"And you?"
"Yes."
Franz stared into Calian's eyes for a moment, then nodded. He had realized why Calian was leaving such detailed instructions. "When are you leaving?"
"Around tomorrow."
"When are you coming back?"
"It will take about ten days, fifteen at the longest. It's another three or four days from the Siegfried Territory to the Elf village, and I'll need that much time to meet the Mother Tree and make a few threats."
Now that his body had recovered, he intended to go to the Elves and settle things—to make them let go of Devlan's hand and to find any connection to Zeon if possible.
"I haven't told His Majesty, so please make up a suitable excuse. Brother Randel won't care, but if he asks, handle him too."
Franz stared at Calian for a long moment before nodding quietly. "Alright."
He was already wondering what kind of luggage Calian would need for a fifteen-day trip and whether it would be better to leave Lucy and Anne behind.