Board Games Can Beat Spirits
Rattle, rattle.
A week had passed since I'd been given approval for Kylegalli and board games in general.
In that time, word of Kylegalli—and the house rules the knights played by—had spread rapidly through the household.
"S-See! I knew you were a genius, Young Master! E-Everyone's finally recognized your games and your brilliance!!"
"Hmm. Most of them probably only tried it once, out of curiosity about the board game some invisible third son had made, combined with old Charles actively recommending it and the rumor going around that the knights play it constantly at the training grounds. It's easy to pick up, after all—all you need is a bell and some cards."
"N-No, it's not that! It's because you're s-so amazing, Young Master……!!"
"Well, I'm just glad everyone seems to be enjoying it."
Regardless of Sally's dramatics, Kylegalli had settled in as a fixture of the estate. The bell rang constantly from the annex where the servants lived, and the kitchen had even gone so far as to place a special order for a bell dedicated to Kylegalli.
And apparently the knight commander and his men played Kylegalli during training breaks and downtime alike.
It warmed my heart a little to watch people discovering the joy of board games…… though.
Rattle.
'Well, to be fair, they didn't have much entertainment to begin with.'
For servants confined to the estate grounds, "entertainment" meant gossip, or that chess-like board game—nothing more. So long as a new game wasn't outright terrible, it was only natural it would gradually catch on.
Simple equipment, simple rules, and yet raw, primal fun and competitiveness—those qualities alone had made it spread faster than I expected.
The truth was, what had my attention lately wasn't Kylegalli itself, but the house rules the knights had been enjoying.
'Calling it Kylegalli is a stretch. It's a knockoff with nothing but the artwork changed.'
The acclaim it had earned belonged to the original Halli Galli, a masterpiece in its own right. I was perfectly satisfied that people found Kylegalli fun—but being praised as its creator honestly tripped my conscience to the point that I didn't even enjoy it.
The house rules, though, were a different matter. They resembled nothing I knew from my old world; they were something brand new, built on all the board game experience I'd accumulated.
Had anyone in my old world actually played Halli Galli the way this house rule did? I can say with confidence: almost no one.
That was why I couldn't help but feel attached to it.
In a way, that was the true Kylegalli.
……Not that it was a new board game or anything—just a house rule.
But if I kept racking up experience like this, could I genuinely make a board game that was entirely my own?
Considering I'd brainstormed a whole batch of ideas just last night and scrapped every single one, that dream was still far off.
"Which means I have a lot to do. I need to visit the smithy and request more bells, arrange to import specialty paper for card-making from the family's trading house or another one…… Father entrusted all this to me, so I have to stay busy."
"Uh…… i-in the carriage……?"
"………That's the problem."
Rattle.
Right. Starting from Kylegalli, there were simply too many things to do to spread the fun of board games.
And instead of running around staying busy, here I was, my body jostled along in a rattling carriage.
With Sally, my bodyguard and personal maid.
"Phew…… Sally, the letter?"
"H-Here it is, safe and sound!"
"I'm counting on you. But honestly, why on earth would the Duke summon me……"
"W-Really, it's about time he noticed! Y-You're a genius, Young Master!"
I let Sally's usual gilding wash over me, because no matter how I turned it over in my head, I couldn't make sense of it.
House Byron was surely among the wealthiest of the empire's viscountcies, and its position as a hub of trade and travel gave it a certain influence—but comparing us to a duke was laughable.
Frankly, the relationship between us and the sender of that letter—the Duchy of Everts in the west—could only be called strictly subordinate.
'Over forty percent of our toll revenue is paid by the Duchy of Everts, after all.'
VIP didn't even begin to cover it—a client of clients. The moment Father became head of the house, he went so far as to petition that, in exchange for reducing tolls by thirty percent exclusively for trading houses and companies affiliated with the Duchy of Everts, only those groups would be permitted to pass through Byron lands.
The duchy got cheap passage to and from the capital; we got a guaranteed customer. Everyone won.
Of course, since the arrangement favored us rather heavily, our relationship with the duchy was thoroughly lopsided, and to that extent Father had earned the Duke's favor…… but that was Father's standing, wasn't it?
The heir apparent, my eldest brother, might warrant the Duke's attention—never the mere third son.
And above all,
"The letter's addressee is…… me, right?"
"Y-Yes!"
"I truly don't get it."
I wasn't going as Father's proxy either. The Duke had pointed at me, specifically.
It would have been nice if the letter had actually stated a reason, but it was full of nothing but the vague circumlocutions nobles love—half-promises and "let's stay in touch" fluff.
Still, there was one thing nagging at me.
'……Father was a little too calm about it.'
He was a strict man when handling official business, but even in a situation where a duke had sent a personal letter to the likes of me, the fact that he didn't so much as flinch was startling.
As if he'd known it would happen…… an oddly ambiguous attitude.
I'd been too flustered at the time to notice anything off about Father, but once I'd been bundled into the carriage with time to cool my head, the suspicious things stacked up past counting.
But what could I do? The carriage had already departed. All that remained was to travel to the duchy and find out the reason myself.
I let out a long sigh and leaned back against the plush seat.
"………?"
……For some reason, I kept feeling a stare boring into me from outside the window.
I brushed it off as my imagination.
Rattle.
The journey to the Duchy of Everts didn't take long.
In the medieval world of my old life, it would have been days of hard travel—but this was a world where aura and magic existed.
Naturally, neither the horses pulling the carriage nor the carriage itself were ordinary. Though to be fair, that was only possible because money had been thrown at the problem.
It was no accident that the specially built carriage rattled. That rattle meant we were traveling at speeds that would shake a noble house's carriage to pieces.
For a while I just watched the scenery flick past like I was riding in a car, but once we entered the duchy and the pace slackened, my surroundings came into focus.
A city incomparably larger than ours, cleanly divided into carriage lanes and pedestrian walkways, middle-class families who looked prosperous at a glance, and patrol knights deliberately flaunting their aura to keep crime down.
No wonder the rumor went around that if the empire's grip had slipped even slightly, this place would have declared independence as a sovereign duchy.
And once we arrived at the ducal castle, things moved like clockwork.
"Welcome, Kyle Byron. His Grace, Duke Nicholas, is waiting for you."
"……He's waiting now?"
"Yes."
"Then let's go at once."
Suddenly I found myself standing before the doors of the ducal castle's drawing room. Sally was to wait in the guest room, while I alone had been escorted to the door by the servants.
There was no point hesitating now. I knocked on the drawing room door without further delay.
Surely he hadn't summoned me all this way to do me harm.
Knock. Knock.
"Enter."
At the Duke's word, the maids standing beside the door swung it open with practiced grace.
The drawing room beyond was—larger than I had imagined.
A drawing room exists to receive guests. Which naturally makes it a stage for displaying a noble house's power and grandeur, and many families decorate theirs to be as lavish and imposing as possible.
House Byron was no exception—yet the Duke's drawing room exceeded anything I'd pictured.
Cabinets glittering with rare treasures lit the room from every corner, a crimson carpet of the finest weave spread across the floor, and towering stacks of documents and books overwhelmed any visitor who entered.
Opulent and magnificent, certainly—but did it suit the Duchy of Everts? I found myself tilting my head.
Then I thought I understood the point of the room.
The Duchy of Everts had no need to furnish a drawing room the way other nobles did. No need to boast of influence through decoration. Everts is Everts.
At the heart of that quiet pride sat a bearded, middle-aged man on the sofa, glaring at me with an expression of clear displeasure.
The moment I stepped inside, I bowed my head first.
"I am Kyle Byron. Your Grace, Duke Nicholas—it is truly an honor to be invited by you—"
"Sit down, first of all."
"……Yes."
What was with this deadly atmosphere?
The chill was sharp enough to make me wonder if I'd somehow done something wrong.
Except we've never even met before? Why, then?
The moment I took the seat across from him, however, all such questions evaporated.
'………That?'
On the elegant table between the Duke and me sat a teacup and a glass pitcher. That much was perfectly ordinary.
But beside them—there was a bell, and a stack of cards printed with geometric shapes.
Kylegalli, unmistakably.
Why is that doing here?
"Your eyes went straight to it. Kylegalli…… was it called?"
"Y-Yes! That's right, Your Grace."
"William sent it over claiming it was a gift, so I gave it a try. Quite an entertaining game. And not merely entertaining—there's a certain philosophy woven into it. You were bold to put your own name on a game."
"H-Haha………"
That was a compliment, right? Then why are your eyes saying you want to kill someone?
More importantly—William? Father sent it as a gift?
'So THAT'S why he was so calm……!!'
I'd wondered why the Duke had a copy when it hadn't even been properly distributed to the servants in our own household—it was Father's doing?
Fine. Up to there, I could accept it. Really, I could.
But then why had the Duke summoned me over this game? If he'd enjoyed it, a polite thank-you letter would have been more than enough.
It wasn't as if the Duke had suddenly become a Kylegalli fanatic begging to gaze upon his beloved designer's face. One look at that murderous expression said otherwise.
So why?
"Naturally, I didn't drag you all the way here for that alone. Waiting idly for you wouldn't be worth setting aside every other matter I have."
"………I'm aware."
"And yet I summoned you, and I've kept waiting…… because I have a request."
A request? From a duke? To me?
Going by the flow of this conversation, it must involve Kylegalli. But what? He wants exclusive rights to the game? Patronage going forward? Or a warning?
"I have a daughter. Are you aware of that?"
"I know there is a princess around my own age, but beyond that, nothing."
"Yes, well. I'd like you to…… meet my daughter."
"I'm…… sorry?"
When I faltered, clearly failing to grasp his purpose, the Duke continued, his eyes sinking low.
"My daughter hasn't left her room since certain events transpired."
"……The princess, you mean?"
"That's right. I myself am not allowed to see her. So tell me—do you understand why I would have you approach a daughter who refuses even her own father?"
Well.
Given the atmosphere, and given the Kylegalli he'd deliberately left out on the table, there was only one answer.
"Because of Kylegalli?"
"Correct. My daughter is said to adore Kylegalli. So I thought—if anyone could reach her, it might be the one who created it."
"Y-You're serious?"
"Serious? Of course I'm serious. Frankly, I don't believe you'll succeed. But……"
Clack.
As the Duke set down his teacup, his eyes were sunk deep in contemplation—and yet, at the same time, desperate.
He must have exhausted every conceivable effort just to hold a conversation with a daughter who'd shut herself away in her room.
All of it had failed. He'd been driven so low that he was personally begging a mere board game designer.
Even if that hope was small—a thread no thicker than a spider's silk.
Praying it might work.
"……Even being William's son, I'm desperate enough to speak of family matters to an outsider."
"……………"
"If you fail, I'll simply search for another way. But I'd rather not pass over even the slimmest possibility in the process."
"………I see."
"It's been a very long time since she took an interest in anything with such devotion—something she'd lose herself in for whole days at a time. It's true that I rate your objective chances of success low, but among everything I've tried these past months, you are the best option."
"…………"
"So—what say you? Will you accept? Even if you fail…… I'll see you are rewarded for humoring my stubbornness."
The Duke looked genuinely desperate. Desperate enough to promise compensation for a mere attempt to the third son of a viscount.
But there was one thing I couldn't wrap my head around, no matter how I thought about it.
"……Your Grace. Did you not say the princess is currently absorbed in Kylegalli?"
"I did."
"Kylegalli is not a game one can play alone. Someone must necessarily be playing with her—whether a friend or a servant. Couldn't you simply go through that person?"
That had been my question from the start. If the princess stayed up all night playing Kylegalli, someone had obviously been playing it with her.
If she wouldn't even speak to her father, yet still played games with someone—and Kylegalli of all things, a game where you physically slam the bell and clash with your opponent—then that person had to be extremely close to her.
Wouldn't going through them be far better? Even if that approach had already been tried and failed, retrying through them had to hold better odds than dragging in the game's designer.
At my question, the Duke's face twisted as if he'd been expecting this, and he sighed.
"You're not wrong. Yes, entirely correct."
"In that case—"
"……The one who is with my daughter is not a person."
What?
"I beg your pardon?"
"My daughter—Raysia—is a spirit summoner."
"Which means…… the one she plays with is, a spirit."
"I don't care whether you talk with Raysia or what else you do. Get close to her."
"And then pull her back out—free her from the spirits' suffocating affection."
"That is all I ask."
Ding!
"I…… won. That's fifty-five straight. Hm? Are you listening? Say something………"
[Chime.][Whinny.]
"I see. Mm."
[Whinny.][Meow.][Chime.][Grrr.]
"The one who made Kylegalli."
[Grrr.][Pitter-patter.][Whoosh.]
"He came by carriage? And he'll be coming to this room soon?"
[Chime.][Pitter-patter.]
"I see. Then…… chase him away for me."
[Meow.][Moo.][Swish!][Grrr.][Pitter-patter.][Whoosh.]
"You're all I need."
[Chime.]
"……Don't be too rough with him, though. He did make this game, after all."
[Growl.][Pitter-patter!]
"Please. Now then…… shall we play one more round?"
[Swish!]
"………Yes. Let's."