Chapter 48
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 48
Chapter Title: Two Faces
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"So, the bit about killing your brother-in-law was fake too?"
Shore didn't answer right away.
"Or was even the part about having a sister a lie?"
"I do have a sister. But she wouldn't marry some weakling. She's just like me."
"What do you mean?"
"Dragon blood."
Both siblings possessed the abilities of Dragon Descendants.
I glanced at Cooluk. He gave a nod.
They must be pretty well-known siblings among the Kuman Tribe.
"That damn woman still hasn't gotten married. Says there aren't any guys she likes. No weaklings, or whatever. In my eyes, she's headed straight for spinsterhood... But once I become chief, I'll force her into a marriage or something."
"But earlier, that guy seemed to buy it."
The smile vanished from Shore's face.
"Do you know how many Kuman tribesmen that bastard's killed?"
"What?"
"You think they'd remember every single one? I don't keep track of every Imperial dog I kill either. There are hundreds of steppe folk who've lost family to him. He just picked one at random. It was improvised. Sounded convincing, didn't it?"
"You thought that would work?"
"It did work. Did you see his face? He went white as a sheet."
Celine, usually quick with her words, was at a loss for once.
Shore cackled, acting like everything had gone exactly as planned.
"With this, the kid's one step closer to becoming chief of the Golden Bear Tribe."
Cooluk whispered in my ear.
Sure enough, seeing him smirk like that, he looked drunk on the thrill of the world bending to his will. But there was one thing he didn't know.
The clash between the Golden Bear Tribe and Mueller. That was all my doing.
Their long-standing grudge. The records alone listed dozens of incidents.
If you included the unrecorded ones, there'd be even more.
The oil was already poured. All it took was a spark.
And the result...
Well, as you can see.
In the end, they were all just pieces moving on my board.
"By the way, that little miss our little dragon sent... Think she can handle the torture?"
I hadn't assigned Lize to interrogate him specifically for torture.
But there was no reason to reveal that here.
"Of course. She's never disappointed me."
"Is that so?"
Shore turned around. He leaned against the window and crossed his arms.
"I hear you made a killing down south."
"Word travels fast."
"Scouts reported in. Said you brought back several carts of iron bars alone."
How much does this guy know?
"And?"
"We'll talk about that next time."
"What?"
"The more iron, the better. We'll need it soon enough. Oh, don't worry—we'll pay you well."
The door shut.
That guy. Is he planning a civil war within the Golden Bear Tribe?
Well, if he's paying, it'd be better to take goods in kind rather than gold or silver. I'd already scouted what the Imperial capital lacks on my last trip there...
As that thought crossed my mind, Celine spoke up.
"Hey."
"Yeah."
"How long have you been scheming with that bastard?"
"It was spur-of-the-moment. Lize suggested it first. Or rather... she took the lead."
While I was selling Blue-Red Grass in the capital and dancing with the princess, that girl had captured the 6th Legion commander on her own and even made contact with the Golden Bear Tribe.
I'd merely tied up the loose ends.
"Aren't you letting her push you around too much?"
"Huh? Now you mention it?"
"She gave you that stuff for Ernst in the first place. Who knows when she'll stab you in the back."
Come to think of it, yeah.
"I know."
"Then why?"
"I'd be dead without her."
No point in not using her now.
Which led to my conclusion: doubting her would be idiotic.
The interrogation room was cramped.
Stone walls without a single window.
Georg was bound to a chair. His wrists were still shackled, and several days' worth of rough beard growth covered his face.
"How many supply lines from Mueller headquarters to the 6th Legion?"
"Three."
"Main waypoints?"
The answers flowed out smoothly. Even Georg himself was baffled.
He'd planned to hold out at first. Claim ignorance. Say he didn't remember. That was the strategy.
But something was off.
This girl wasn't torturing him. No threats, no cajoling.
She just asked questions.
"Grain reserves at the Hoenshtein warehouse?"
"Around 3,000 sacks."
"Iron?"
"200 kin. No, wait—300 kin."
Only after answering did he realize. What the hell did I just say?
"Hold on."
Georg looked up.
"What did I just say?"
Lize didn't respond. She just wrote something on the parchment in her hand.
"Hey. Answer me."
"Three supply lines. Three waypoints. Warehouse reserves."
She recited it flatly. All the info he'd just spilled.
"No lies this time."
Those words sent a chill down Georg's spine.
It was a trap.
The order of questions. Her tone. The pauses.
All calculated.
Ask about A while gauging the reaction to B. Spot a gap in B and shift to C. Make D slip out automatically when answering C.
True or false—she could instinctively tell.
"Did they teach you this? Where?"
Lize responded by tossing the next question.
"Time to reorganize the 6th Legion?"
"I'm not telling you that."
"Two weeks for 2,000 troops. A month for 3,000. Right?"
"...How did you—"
"You said it earlier. 3,000 sacks in the warehouse. That's two weeks' rations. For 2,000 men."
Georg's mouth snapped shut. Lize paused her pen and tilted her head.
She muttered to herself.
"But that's weird. Why rush like this without securing supplies?"
"..."
"Oh. Orders from Young Master Ernst. Must be desperate over the princess's marriage."
Georg's shoulders stiffened. It was subtle.
But Lize didn't miss it.
Her pen scratched across the parchment.
Scritch.
"What are you writing?"
"Something you don't need to know."
Georg felt instinctive fear.
And in his mind, the puzzle pieces began falling into place.
"You said three days ago the explosives deployment was done. Your own words."
"Yes."
"Your master was outside then. So who planned the operation? Stuffing the building with explosives, luring in the Kuman cavalry, ambushing the retreat path. Who did that?"
"Our young master, obviously."
"From hundreds of li away? You serious?"
Lize's expression didn't change.
But that blank face was the answer.
"Heh."
A low, bitter laugh escaped.
"I see. Now I get it. The real talent isn't your master—it's you. The orc battle. The Kuman fight. You planned them all, didn't you?"
"I just followed Young Master's orders."
"Orders? All that kid knows how to do is stamp papers. You plan it, you execute it, and he takes the credit."
"Not denying it?"
"What's to deny? Basic leading interrogation. And a legion commander like you fell for it all. You think you can judge my young master with that brain? Getting stripped bare by the likes of me? A moth with singed wings critiquing a furnace? Must have shit for brains..."
Georg stared at the girl.
The one who'd just mocked him.
Twelve years old. Silver hair. Eyepatch over one eye.
He knew she was smart.
He'd realized days ago that she'd trapped him, pushed him into this corner.
But she was still just a kid, he'd thought.
But now...
'What is this?'
The girl just watched him.
Like dust on the floor.
Step on it or not. No big deal.
Georg had seen countless battlefields. Been slashed by swords. Shot by arrows. Cheated death. Seen killers' eyes, madmen's eyes.
But this was different.
Those weren't human eyes.
His mouth went dry. Heart raced. Fingertips turned cold.
The girl didn't move. Pen in hand. Head slightly tilted. Just staring.
Breath caught. Wanted to look away. But his body was frozen.
Then.
Creeeak.
The door opened.
To Georg, it sounded like salvation.
I opened the door and stepped in.
Georg sat bound to the chair, head bowed.
His face was pale. The bluster from before was gone.
Lize really delivered.
"What'd you find out?"
"Three supply lines. Pulled all the main outpost locations and reserves tooo."
When's she gonna fix that speech pattern?
Eh, it's cute anyway.
Lize handed over the parchment. I took it and skimmed through. Neat handwriting, packed tight.
"Your handwriting's gotten even prettier."
"All thanks to Young Master teaching me so wellll."
"How'd you get the reorganization timeline?"
"Back-calculated from the warehouse reserves."
"Good work."
I folded the parchment and tucked it away.
A rustle from the corner. Georg had lifted his head.
Our eyes met. No, not quite.
Those eyes weren't on me.
They were on my side. On Lize.
Hm... What's with that look? Fear?
How scary could such a cute kid be?
"One more thing I got him to spillll."
"What?"
My gaze shifted to the corner. The man tied to the chair.
Time to clear him out.
I gestured.
The door opened. Two knights entered.
"Take him."
Short order. The knights grabbed Georg's arms.
No resistance as they dragged him away.
Door shut.
I looked at Lize.
She hadn't spoken yet. Her gaze lingered on the wall.
I followed it. Two guards stood there.
Positioned by the door from the start.
Lize's eyes turned back.
Her lips moved. Stopped. Moved again.
"Just the two of us, pleeease."
I nodded to the guards.
A brief hesitation. Pulling guards wasn't common.
"Wait outside."
"Young master, but..."
"Outside the door."
The knights exchanged glances. Quick look.
They bowed and withdrew.
Door shut. Footsteps faded.
I waited until they were gone.
Silence.
Just me and Lize in the room.
"Speak."