Everything According to the Natural Order (10)

It's okay. I'm okay….

In a place where ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠sunlight pattered down in place of rain.

As long as you can go on living… I'm not afraid to die.

In a moment when mud, puddled by the previous day's rain, fouled the ground.

So don't you dare feel guilty.

The one who had smiled like a white flower set a hand on the back of his head and pulled him into an embrace. Crack. Each time the whip lashed out, the air itself cried and leather tore.

My death is not because of you.

The world faintly visible over a shoulder had gone pale and washed out with light, so that almost nothing could be seen.

All there was: a human ringed in a nimbus of radiance as if he were some sacred being, meting out punishment—and blood droplets scattering in every direction.

It is absolutely not your fault….

And yet the voice ringing in his ears was piercingly clear.

So… so live. Survive. No matter what hardships and trials stand before you, at least you….

Crack! With the final stroke of the whip, the warmth that had been holding him finally let its head fall.

It did not wither or shrivel like a dying flower. It was simply like the instant a bloom separates from its stem.

Li—.

Thud.

"Gahk!"

"Young hunter!"

Deathbringer felt the blocked-off lungs open as if liberated, and dragged in breath after ragged breath.

His nape burned—hot, raw, searing with pain.

"Hah—huff."

But what truly hurt was not his neck. The place that truly ached, the thing that tormented him so—

"Breathe. You have to breathe."

"Uwaa…."

"Hunter."

I'd rather you hated me.

For forgetting you. For not living the way you told me to.

"Ahk…."

"Hunter…."

For driving dozens—hundreds—of people to their deaths in the name of your revenge.

I wish you'd rebuke me and condemn me for every wrong I've done.

"Emit…."

But you never will. Not forever.

Because you're already dead.

"I received word ahead of time. You come bearing Mia's letter, I understand. Thank you."

Whether or not I was reeling from that muttered fishy smell, the situation kept rolling forward.

"It's nothing. Our roads simply overlapped, so I took the liberty of accepting the favor."

"I see. How very flattering—I am quite overwhelmed. To think I am the first to receive a letter whose delivery was entrusted to the Hero, a Great Sage, and a renowned adventurer?"

If he'd been picking a fight because I hadn't greeted him, he at least wasn't throwing me any dirty looks….

Which meant he'd genuinely smelled something fishy and muttered about a fishy smell.

I'd showered, so it couldn't be me! Or so I wanted to believe—except for what I'd overheard out on the street earlier. Having something to feel guilty about made the whole thing uncomfortably sticky.

"Ah, of course. Leaving guests standing at the entrance would be poor manners. Tom, tea and refreshments at the garden pavilion, if you would."

"Yes, my lord."

"This way, everyone."

Is it me? Is it really me?

Is it actually me?

"What a truly beautiful flower garden."

"Haha, thank you."

"I heard the Young Lord raised it himself—is that true?"

"Humble as it is, yes. I cannot claim it as entirely my own work, so it is hardly something to boast of."

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Th-this cannot stand. I resolved then and there to scrub even harder in the shower—though I already scrub until I leave little scrapes; how exactly was I supposed to scrub better than that—and to buy more expensive soap, no matter the cost.

I could yield on other things. Smelling bad was non-negotiable.

"First, allow us to deliver the letter."

At any rate, our host, having arranged at least the minimum of formality, accepted the letter from us.

"Ah… thank you."

But maybe it was just me. For a man receiving a love letter from his beloved, he did not look particularly glad.

Far from brightening, his gaze even seemed to cool a shade.

"…Aren't you going to open it?"

"Haha. In my heart I would love nothing more than to read it this instant… but I am embarrassed. I appreciate your consideration, yet I will keep public and private separate."

He even… reacted in a way I had not expected.

The Young Lord of Camborer had said, Even if he wants to read the letter first, don't take it as rudeness—let him.

That he would tell us the situation, or use the code words she had given us to speak, and so on. She had written those things into the letter, and had even added that conversation would only be possible once he had seen it first.

But those instructions had assumed the Young Lord of Ednium—Leon—would of course open a private letter first. Whether it was some promise between them or something else, she had taken that as a given.

"I see."

So why wasn't he trying to look at it now?

Had the situation changed?

My first hypothesis was that he was being threatened or watched by a demon or something of the sort.

But if a demon were present, the Inquisitor could not fail to notice. If one were there and she still didn't know, it would be so thoroughly concealed that I would have even less chance of detecting it.

More than that, thinking of him as under surveillance or coercion felt wrong because of the attitude he had shown in the first place.

I could not forget that cool look in his eyes from a moment ago. My instincts were too poor to dismiss it as imagination.

As I'd thought before we came: a lord's household already corrupted by evil and turning traitor was a classic cliché. The odds were low, but it was also possible that love had simply cooled.

"I've brought the refreshments."

Then a servant approached with a trolley laden with colorful candies, sweets, and black tea.

"Thank you for the hospitality."

"Not at all. Please, eat plenty."

"Th-there's a flower in the candies…."

"Candies with whole flowers set into them as they hardened. A creation our castle cook is particularly proud of."

Candies with flowers inside. Dev would have loved these if he'd been here.

"The fragrance is wonderful…."

"Haha. The head cook will be delighted to hear that. If they please you, I shall have some packed for you."

"Is that truly all right…?"

"Of course. If word reaches him that even the Hero liked them enough to take some away, he may well dance for joy."

At least Kimchi Dumpling seemed to like them.

I watched Leon have a servant package a handful of candies, and watched him hand them over to us, and I kept watching through to the end as he never once opened the letter, and as he answered the Archmage's questions about the beasts with nothing but I don't know.

There was nothing especially wrong that stood out—yet once suspicion had taken root, everything looked shady.

"Ah, yes. The Young Lord of Camborer asked a favor. She said Young Lord Leon's beloved cat had her curious, and begged that we see it with our own eyes…."

"Pardon?"

Yes. Especially a reaction like this.

"The cat that visits often, I mean."

"Ahh. That little one."

Oddly… oddly, the response came a beat late. As if it took him time to recall what we were talking about.

Of course, it could simply be a poor memory….

"…I've been so busy with wedding preparations that I've played with her less, and I suppose she's sulking. I haven't seen her at all lately."

A man in the position of Young Lord having a bad memory felt a little strange too.

"You must miss her."

"Yes. She was an adorable little thing."

"And your allergy—has it improved? The Young Lord of Camborer was worried."

"…Mia was worried about me? Well now… that makes me happy."

Suspicious after all.

I didn't know what was suspicious, but it was suspicious. Years of hard-earned instinct were screaming that something was off.

"The allergy is the same as ever. But that cat is somehow special—with her alone, it isn't so bad. Perhaps that's why I've grown so fond of her."

"I see."

But you cannot put a blade to a person on instinct alone.

In the end we prepared to leave with nothing gained.

"A wasted trip, it seems… It would have been better if we had learned something."

Ah—not entirely nothing? Kimchi Dumpling had gotten a bundle of candy. Considering our real purpose was information, that part was pretty pathetic, though.

"Well… for now, we should watch a little longer."

Still, the Archmage seemed to harbor doubts from a place similar to mine.

"Inquisitor, you truly sensed no Demon Energy, correct?"

"Pardon? Ah, yes. Are you suspecting the Young Lord, then?"

"His manner differed somewhat from what we heard from the Young Lord of Camborer. At the very least, there seems to be something."

"In that case…."

"Let us investigate a little further. We were not going to leave the city immediately in any case."

"Yes!"

"Though… it is a pity. This sort of work would suit him perfectly, and yet he does not appear to be in any condition to step forward."

Ah. Right. Our Meat Dumpling—right now, we could hardly ask him to handle an investigation.

Of course, even without Dev, I still had an information-guild pass of my own. He'd given me one at the very beginning.

But what good was the means? The world had such a thing as proficiency. Employee D/C rates, bonuses you only got for belonging to the same faction, and so on.

In other words, no matter how I turned it over, I had no confidence I could bring back information on Dev's level. Which meant a net loss.

"You mean… Slicker?"

"Matters of investigation have always fallen to him. He is also the most capable among us."

Ah. Really now.

Even when our social-skills member had been wiped out it had felt like a solid hit, but facing an information job, this one hurt just as much in the bones.

This party quietly depended on Dev for a lot of things.

"…."

"What is it?"

"Nothing. I only feel I am of little help, and that I ought to strive harder."

And now what was her problem.

Was she still bothered by failing to detect Demon Energy in time lately? Just now her face had looked crestfallen.

"You are doing more than enough, Inquisitor. It is only that each person has different gifts. Do not trouble yourself over it."

"Yes… of course."

I watched the Inquisitor slap her own cheeks.

"I have my own duties."

Really—Dev and the Inquisitor both. There was a strangely precarious feeling about them.

"The guests have departed, my lord."

"Yes. Well done. You may go."

Meanwhile, Young Lord Leon drew a deep breath the moment he heard the steward's report.

And once the steward had completely vanished from his field of vision, he raised a hand.

"Ah, that fishy smell."

His face twisted of its own accord as he waved a hand through the nearby air, as if airing the place out.

"This is not even the sea, and yet this body must suffer the reek of seafood."

The smell that still would not fully leave kept pricking at his nose.

Young Lord Leon covered his nose with a handkerchief and headed back into the garden. The garden that had just hosted guests was lush with flowers, trees, and leaves—yet a strangely cool air hung over it.

"As expected of one chosen by a thing of the sea—no sense of tact at all."

Rustle. Everywhere his feet fell, new shoots stretched their leaves and branches taut.

It was not unnatural growth, but the way living things lift their heads when life and energy overflow.

"I overlooked the rampage in my forest as a warning, and even when they came here I sent the children as a signal—yet they still dared set foot on this land."

And when he stepped into the maze at one side of the garden—

Trees taller than a man all bloomed at once. A fragrance of flowers out of season spread in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠every direction.

"And with a filthy creature's letter in hand, no less."

When he reached a certain stretch, the trees that had formed a wall even swept their branches aside to either side, as if baring their insides.

"Mmph, mmmph."

But the surprises did not end there.

Between the parted thicket was another Young Lord Leon, his whole body bound in grass and vines.

"Did you wait too long? I am sorry. But I had no choice."

The Young Lord Leon looking down at the bound one—or rather, the something that had been impersonating Young Lord Leon—smiled sweetly.

"I never wished to see you receive this."

Crumble. The love letter in that hand withered in an instant, then crumbled to powder and vanished.

"Mmph!"

The bound Young Lord's eyes flew open to their limits.

"What, are you curious about the letter's contents?"

By contrast, the thing wearing Leon's face smiled brightly. That white face and body had already begun to change, little by little.

"My lovely one."

The once-flat chest swelled and the nearly straight waist nipped inward, shifting toward a woman's form.

Hair of middling length lengthened to the ankles and was dyeing itself white-gold all at once.

"As if I would ever let you see it."

And those soft eyes stretched sharp, unfurling a red marking at their corners.

The clothes were no different. What had been ordinary cloth, only a little soft, transformed into silk adorned with gold and jewels, a white fur mantle outermost of all.

Jingle-jingle.

With every movement, earrings and necklace and bracelets flashed with light.

Human—and yet a dress and bearing that were somehow not quite human.

What made it still less human was the voice that now rang in a manner wholly unlike a human's.

It made the plants withdraw, freeing Young Lord Leon's limbs, and swept away the leaves that had bound his mouth as well.

"…You!"

Yet the Young Lord, once freed, could not move so much as an inch.

First: a being wrought of nothing but white and gold had buried its face against his nape. Second: it had locked its arms tight around his body.

And the third and final reason—

—was that the other's true nature was a being no human could dare to bear.

Ah. If he had known it would come to this, he never would have thrown food to that white cat shivering in the rain.

Young Lord Leon, who had ruined his life with a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠single act of pity, closed his eyes with a sigh.

He missed his beloved.