Encounter with the Solver Lady
At the end of a week’s journey, Rood arrived in Voenac Territory. The landscape was nothing like what he had grown used to, so he spent the entire carriage ride with his gaze fixed beyond the window. Fertile soil and vast stretches of land covered in lush green leaves were sights impossible to find on the battlefield or in back alleys. The peaceful atmosphere struck Rood not as dull, but as something deeply unsettling. On the battlefield, such silence and laxity always preceded death or devastating loss for someone. In moments of unease, Rood typically steadied his mind and body through rigorous training. Yet inside a carriage bound for a fixed destination, he could hardly swing a sword. Especially not with a bald monk named Ziel grumbling the entire week, still nursing a grudge after Rood had called him a mouse.
“Tsk. I’m never taking a job like this again. No matter how important the Solver is, this is just…”
Rood didn’t entirely dislike Ziel’s complaints. They occasionally yielded interesting pieces of information. First, the person who had been watching over him from afar was known as the “Solver.” Unfortunately, rumors from the front lines differed in character from those inland, so he hadn’t gathered much of value. Second, that person was almost certainly a noble of the Voenac family. Ziel had revealed he was a monk from a monastery located in Voenac Territory. Only a noble would entrust a mission to a monk famed for both piety and scholarship. Since their destination was the very same territory, it was safe to assume the Solver belonged to House Voenac.
When Ziel’s grumbling grew tiresome, Rood would pull out a book. Fortunately, the bald monk had packed most of his belongings—including the sword he had left in the barracks—allowing him to recover the manual as well.
“Huh? You can actually read?”
“More or less.”
It was possible only because Rood had served in the information branch of the special forces. The most grueling training he had endured was neither the three-day forced march without food nor standing half-naked for half a day in the snowy mountains. It was learning to read and write. Every mistake meant memorizing three additional words. Those three years of physical torment paired with constant mental drilling had been true hell. Still, the ability earned him envious glances from other soldiers—until he became known as the Mad Dog. After that, no one spoke to him or even spared him a glance.
In any case, while he could read the manual, he couldn’t understand its contents. The text was full of contradictory statements that made his blood boil. Just when he was ready to hurl the book across the room, it would suddenly offer clear, practical instructions as if written by a different person.
Rood’s dream had never been to become a knight. In his eyes, knights were fools who took every annoying duty upon themselves. The three virtues of knighthood—overwhelming martial prowess capable of facing a thousand men, the ability to command armies, and mercy even toward enemies—held little appeal. Rood cared only for absolute strength. The rest clashed with his nature. All he wanted was to become someone unshaken by any circumstance, a man recognized by his mere existence rather than clever tactics or hollow displays of benevolence. That, he believed, was the proper ambition for any true man.
Rood did not set the book down until the carriage wheels finally stopped.
“We’ve arrived. I’m returning to the monastery, so go introduce yourself to the master of this place.”
Ziel turned the carriage down a street to the right and vanished. Rood closed the book he had been reading.
Still don’t understand a single word.
He felt no particular impatience. If aura could be awakened simply by reading a few lines, he never would have bothered trying in the first place. More than that, he was curious about the noble who had summoned him from two thousand li away.
When he announced himself to the guards at the mansion gate, they let him through without any real inspection.
Typical of these southern pigs. Their security is laughably loose.
Had this been the north, they would have searched his belongings, confiscated his weapons, and still demanded a bribe before allowing entry. The ease of it left him dumbfounded.
The mansion garden was overflowing with flowers. The overwhelming fragrance made Rood cough sharply. When the front doors opened, he saw servants hurrying about. His brow furrowed. Their uniforms were not the usual drab colors but bright red, yellow, and green.
These pigs must enjoy chaos.
A maid in a yellow dress approached with a bright smile.
“Excuse me, may I have your name and business?”
“Rood. No family name. As for my business… I’m not entirely sure myself.”
The maid blinked in momentary confusion at his answer, then clapped her hands together.
“Ah, you must be that guest! Could you wait here a moment?”
She hurried off. In the space she left behind, an elderly man in a black suit approached.
Finally, someone dressed like a normal person.
“Good day, sir. I am Pete, butler of House Voenac.”
Pete was tall and slender, almost elegant. To Rood he looked less like a mere butler and more like a refined noble, which caught him slightly off guard. Following Pete’s guidance, they climbed the mansion stairs and stopped at the second door on the left of a long corridor.
“My lady, the guest you invited has arrived.”
There was no answer for a long time. The room was not empty, however. Rood could hear the rustle of turning pages and was certain someone was inside. He itched to kick the door open but restrained himself.
“Have your ears gone bad?”
Knock knock knock.
Rood felt a surge of pride at how unusually polite he was being. When he glanced sideways, he saw Pete’s pupils trembling violently.
Perhaps I was a bit too courteous.
“Pfft.”
A clear laugh sounded from beyond the door.
“Pete, it’s fine. Let him in.”
“Understood.”
When the door opened, what greeted Rood was not a person but the room itself. Documents towered like a mountain on the desk. Bookshelves lined both walls, crammed so tightly they seemed ready to burst. Though clearly a study, a small bed stood on the right, itself surrounded by even more books.
Then, above the wall of papers on the desk, a tuft of brown hair poked out. The stack was tall, but the owner of that hair appeared to be quite short.
“Pete, you’ve worked hard. I wish to speak with him alone now.”
“But…”
“Pete. That is an order. Do not make me repeat myself.”
Nobles really do speak without a shred of politeness.
Rood clicked his tongue in amusement at the sight of a young girl acting haughty simply because of her status. Once again, silence fell over the doorway.
“Then I shall take my leave.”
The door closed. The sound of chair legs scraping against the floor followed. When Rood looked forward, only her face was visible, peeking over the documents. She was a girl with eyes that sparkled like amethysts.
She looked at least five years younger than his twenty-one. If she grew for a few more years, she would undoubtedly be called a beauty.
“So you are the Mad Dog, Rood?”
“You know me?”
“Of course I do. All I ever read about is you.”
The girl slipped out from behind the desk and stood before him. Her wavy brown hair, bathed in the glow of the setting sun, created an almost serene atmosphere. It cascaded down to her waist. At the ends of two neatly braided sections, purple ribbons were tied. Her eyes were slightly long with upturned corners, her nose small yet perfectly straight, giving her a doll-like appearance. Her lips were delicate, yet vividly red and glossy.
“I doubt the rumors a young lady would hear about me were particularly flattering.”
He had heard stories of his insubordination toward superiors and violence against civilians. There had even been a bastard who spread rumors that he was a eunuch who preferred men; Rood had beaten him half to death in a duel.
“Young lady?!”
The girl stamped her foot. Rood nearly burst out laughing at the pathetic little stomp. He bit his lip and barely held it in.
“Are you mocking me for being short?”
“I would never… ahem… dream of it.”
“Rood. Born in the year 676 of the Imperial Calendar. Problem child of the third special information unit. A scoundrel. A eunuch who prefers men!”
Damn it. Even that filthy rumor has spread this far.
“I have never preferred men, nor have I ever been a eunuch.”
When Rood’s expression darkened, the girl giggled as if she found him pitiful.
“How would you prove it? They say that pathetic little thing of yours only gets hard when you’re with another man, you pervert.”
This little brat. Should I just kill her?
Rood swallowed his anger. A grown man should be able to overlook a child’s provocation.
“Would you like me to demonstrate right here and now?”
“W-what are you—stop that!”
As Rood reached for his belt, the girl covered her eyes with both hands. Only she knew that her fingers were parted just enough to peek through.
The moment she cried “Stop,” Rood realized he had gone too far. He quickly pulled his trousers back up and fastened his belt.
“Ahem. Not bad.”
“What was that?”
“Nothing! I said nothing. Anyway!”
The girl placed a hand over her chest and declared,
“This one is Isabelle Voenac, master of Voenac Territory and one year your senior. I was born in 675.”
Rood was genuinely shocked. He could not believe that voice and appearance belonged to someone older than him.
“Now do you understand? Technically, I am your elder. Go on, call me Big Sister.”
“S-Sis…”
No. That was close. He had nearly fallen for it.
“I understand who you are, but I have a few questions. May I ask them?”
“Hmm. I don’t particularly like your tone, but very well. No, wait a moment!”
Isabelle suddenly began rummaging through the mountain of documents on her desk in a fluster. It seemed it would take a while, so Rood helped her search.
“What exactly are you looking for?”
“A bell. The kind that goes ding when you ring it.”
Rood tilted his head.
“Why are you looking for a bell?”
“What a foolish question.”
Isabelle answered as if it were obvious.
“Talking with you gives me the perfect excuse to order as many desserts as I want. This is the bell that will summon them.”
Rood’s hands froze.
This is really the master of Voenac Territory? The older “sister”?
“Oh! Found it!”
Ding. Ding. Ding.
Hearing the clear ring, Rood made up his mind. No matter what happened here, he would avoid getting entangled and return to the battlefield as soon as possible.