Bagloros's Offer
He handed me a small crystal from his robes in response to my question. It was a relatively ordinary memory crystal, the kind mages often used to store important memories.
When I infused it with mana, the crystal activated and revealed its contents: basic greetings, how to hold a conversation, ways to comfort someone in sorrow—all accompanied by kind explanations and demonstrations.
Those two young people in there… weren’t they Medrup’s research assistants? I remembered how stiff and uncomfortable their demeanor had been the last time I met them. Yet here they were, acting so naturally and gently. Just how many times had they practiced for even awkwardness or embarrassment to be completely absent?
“Medrup drops by and gives them to him from time to time.”
Only then did I understand. Medrup had been teaching him about emotions and how to express them all this time, and the Bagloros standing before me was the result.
Of course, there were still awkward parts, but compared to how he used to be, he might as well have been an entirely different person. The same went for the man and woman who had performed the reenactments inside the crystal.
I returned the crystal to him for now. A string of shocking events had unfolded one after another, but it was time to get to the main point.
“What’s going on? Where’s Rowell?”
He was looking for Rowell. It seemed he hadn’t considered the possibility that I had come alone.
“I came alone today. I have a favor to ask you.”
An unnecessary silence settled between us. Because I wasn’t used to talking with him, I had waited a moment, half-expecting he might say something more. That had been the mistake.
Bagloros simply stared at me in silence, as if urging me to get to the point already.
“Assassins came after me. I can’t say for certain, but it looks like the work of the High Assassin Guild.”
He showed no particular reaction. Yes. This was the Bagloros I knew. I explained the red-haired man’s appearance and methods to the silent Bagloros.
Even if he had only followed orders without emotion, lacking emotion was different from lacking knowledge. Bagloros was well acquainted with the underworld he had once operated in, and if the red-haired man had been a skilled fighter for some time, Bagloros would surely have heard of him.
He listened quietly to my explanation. When I finished, black mist began to seep from around his body.
“Follow me.”
With those words, Bagloros wrapped himself in the veil of night and dashed away.
“W-wait, Bagloros!”
He wasn’t going to stop just because I called. He was already nearly flying out of sight.
“Erill! After him!”
I quickly climbed onto Erill’s back. The veil of night he wore was meant for swift movement, but it also ensured I wouldn’t lose him. The real problem was that I had no idea what he intended to do.
Erill soared into the sky, and we accelerated after the black mist. Only a few seconds had passed, yet the distance between us had already grown considerable.
“…This wasn’t the original plan.”
My original plan hadn’t been to act immediately like this. I had intended to explain the situation to Bagloros, ask him to deal with the assassins, and then simply return to Rowell.
I was curious about why they had targeted me, but Hyler was already dead, and I no longer had any obligation. If I left it to Bagloros, I had no doubt he would handle it well.
Yet before I could even finish speaking, he had listened to the explanation and told me to follow without another word. That wasn’t how he usually operated.
“Not giving any explanation is just like him, though.”
I wanted to block his path, but his speed and the dense trees made it nearly impossible to get in front of him.
“Erill, let’s close the distance first.”
Closing the gap came first. I didn’t know how far he planned to go, but if I wanted to stop him when a suitable spot appeared, the distance couldn’t be allowed to widen any further.
When I gripped her feathers firmly, Erill increased her speed.
Because of the trees, we could only see parts of the veil of night he wore, but overtaking the black mist wasn’t difficult.
“All right. Now what?”
Should I drop down right above the trees and shout? It was possible, though my throat would hurt long before it worked, and it certainly wouldn’t be elegant.
“Want to breathe some fire?”
I could have Erill breathe fire ahead of his path, or even at every visible patch of black mist. Bagloros wouldn’t be hurt by that much, and at worst only some trees would burn. It was worth trying.
But Erill didn’t play along with my stubbornness. She had probably read the hesitation that occupied more than half of my heart. Starting a fire was always easy; putting one out was not.
“…Fine. Let’s just keep going until we’re out of the forest.”
Beyond the forest lay open plains. There, stopping him wouldn’t require much effort. About twenty minutes passed like that before the forest finally ended. The black mist streaking across the plains was clearly visible now.
“All right. Let’s stop him.”
At my signal, Erill accelerated once more and landed ahead of the black mist. Facing the oncoming black smoke was quite frightening, even knowing it was harmless.
“Bagloros! Stop for a moment!”
My voice was slightly strained, but the message got through. The black mist dispersed, and Bagloros stood there, looking at me. There was no question or irritation in his eyes—just obedience to my request as he halted exactly where he was.
“Bagloros. You need to explain what you’re trying to do first.”
“I know that man. High Assassin Guild. There’s an informant in the nearby city.”
“Right. I figured as much. But why did you tell me to follow?”
I had already expected how he would handle things. What I didn’t understand was why he had insisted I come along. There was no need for me to go.
“I’ll only help.”
“……?”
* * *
For a moment, my mind went blank. What on earth did that mean?
“Bagloros, wait, hold on. What do you mean you’ll only help?”
I forced myself to calm down and asked again more steadily. Even though he had improved compared to before, it seemed Medrup’s crystal-based lessons hadn’t progressed this far yet.
“Rowell told me not to assassinate anyone anymore. I can’t kill.”
Ah, right. I remembered now.
After the great war, Rowell had ordered Bagloros to stop acting as an assassin. To Rowell it had probably been a request or suggestion, but to Bagloros it was an absolute command. So of course he would obey.
“Bagloros. This isn’t assassination.”
Yet the thought that he might interpret this as a simple assassination request made me laugh despite myself.
“Why not?”
He genuinely didn’t seem to understand the difference.
“Bagloros, I was attacked. And it doesn’t look like this will be the end of it.”
I tried to continue explaining calmly, but he cut me off.
“Reasons don’t matter for assassination. Whether it’s for profit, safety, or ideals—everyone wants the target dead. It’s the same thing.”
It felt like I had been struck over the head.
“No……”
I was at a loss for words. The definition of assassination might vary by person, era, and culture, but right now Bagloros understood it through his past actions. And what I was asking of him was not much different from the work he used to do.
In fact, it wasn’t just similar—the method itself was clearly assassination.
“…Bagloros. I’m not saying we have to deal with him secretly.”
Even to my own ears, it sounded like a pathetic excuse. If I wasn’t planning to handle it secretly, did that mean I intended to file a public investigation request with the relevant country? Bagloros looked at my flimsy excuse with pure confusion.
“Do you want to wipe out the entire High Assassin Guild?”
The High Assassin Guild was closely connected to high-ranking officials and nobles in various countries. If this matter had to be handled publicly, then after a proper investigation, I or Bagloros would have to openly raise the issue or demand punishment against the red-haired man and everyone involved, in the name of multiple nations.
And if that happened, the flames would inevitably spread to the entire High Assassin Guild. Not all of them would be punished, but it would certainly cause considerable internal chaos in many countries, and no one could easily predict how far the repercussions would reach.
The current world situation was as unstable as walking a tightrope. Many regions still hadn’t recovered from the damage of the great war and remained vulnerable to external attacks. Anyone with even a passing knowledge of history and politics knew how certain people had exploited such regions by diverting attention toward internal strife.
“That’s not it.”
I answered his question for now. He had asked in complete sincerity, and if I didn’t give a clear answer before moving on, he would become quite confused, just like before.
“…Yeah. You’re right. So how are you planning to help?”
“I’ll catch them for you. You decide what to do with them.”
It was a remarkably simple solution. I felt both relieved and somewhat uneasy that he could circumvent the no-assassination order in this way.
“Then it’s not assassination?”
The question slipped out before I could stop it. I immediately regretted it, worried he might change his mind, but his answer was unexpected.
“You’re my friend. Rowell’s friend, too. Rowell will understand.”
I couldn’t hide my surprise. He recognized that this loophole was forced, and that it went against Rowell’s command. Yet he was still willing to help me.
“…You really have changed a lot, Bagloros. Rowell and the others will be truly happy.”
During the great war, Rowell and all the other companions had felt pity and deep sorrow at Bagloros’s existence and his lack of emotional responses.
He was the result of a forbidden human synthesis experiment in chimera creation—one that Medrup had confirmed used nothing more than a toddler who had barely learned to walk. His very birth had been a tragedy, and after being discarded by his master while following orders without free will or emotion, his existence was enough to fill Rowell and the others—especially Lauti—with profound grief and compassion.
When Medrup first reported the results of Bagloros’s examination, Lauti had wept endlessly in deep silence.
If she, along with Rowell, Aegina, Medrup, and Orcan, could see Bagloros now, they would surely be overjoyed. They would sincerely congratulate him for finally gaining the chance to choose his own life and live freely.
But right now, instead of pure joy or congratulations, I only felt shame toward myself.
I, too, had felt compassion for his existence and deep anger toward those who had conducted such horrific experiments. Yet separately from that, I had always been skeptical about him gaining free will and emotions.
Emotions were inherently unstable and imperfect. There were positive ones like joy and happiness, but also negative ones like sadness, anger, envy, jealousy, and desire—and unfortunately, the influence of those negative emotions was usually far greater and deeper.