Gilding (4)
After leaving the private chamber, I found myself replaying the last exchange I'd had with her.
"A regular council meeting will be held soon. I intend to adopt your proposal then, so I would like you to present your opinion yourself."
"Is it truly necessary to go about it that way?"
"Is it not necessary to quiet the baseless rumors that I am clandestinely soliciting your counsel behind closed doors? In this place, even I have no choice but to rely on you."
That was what Lady Serpina had said, smiling as she spoke.
Show me your ability, Swen — that was what she meant.
Ability is a bit of a stretch, if you ask me.
Not that I failed to understand her position. Unilaterally favoring a confidant's opinion the way Yuuri did was only possible because that was the Asius Army. Doing the same thing here would invite all manner of trouble.
At the coming council, a great many generals would seriously push for a southern campaign. And I, it seemed, would need to persuade them.
First, I'll need to gild my ability into something presentable.
Now that I'd come this close to having most of my power exposed to Serpina, I had to wrap it in a natural-looking cover. It wasn't only her — Zinor had also pieced together a fair amount. I needed to understand exactly what foundation they were using to deduce my ability.
Which meant the place I needed to go was—
Guided by a maid, we arrived at a rather imposing building in the streets of Aingart Castle — three stories tall at a glance.
"This is the place."
"Thank you."
At my greeting, the maid — her white apron neatly arranged — bowed at the waist and asked politely,
"When would it be convenient for me to return and escort you back?"
"There's no need. We know the way, so we can return on our own."
"Is that so? If you say so, then…"
The maid offered us a graceful farewell.
"Ah — um — w-well… g-goodbye…!"
Miss Reika, standing beside me, managed a painfully awkward farewell of her own, and with that we parted from the maid who had seen us here.
This place was a library.
The day after my private audience with Lady Serpina, I had decided to come here to look into something on my own. Miss Reika, who seemed to have nothing particular to do, had tagged along. Lady Irene was out training, and I figured Reika would be bored alone, so I hadn't minded bringing her.
"Wow… it's enormous."
"It really is."
The Aingart Grand Library.
A three-story building packed wall to wall with ancient texts — a vault where the greatest intellect of the continent lay sleeping.
I had learned of this place's existence from the dialogue of the territory's citizens, back before I was possessed into this world.
Clicking on the tiny citizens wandering the screen would produce random encounters — meaningless lines like "Farming ultimately depends on the heavens" or "I hope this age of chaos ends soon and a peaceful world arrives."
Having put ten thousand hours into the game, I'd long since memorized every scrap of citizen dialogue there was. And one of them had been, without a doubt—
"They say Aingart Castle has a grand library where ancient texts holding every kind of knowledge are gathered."
Being citizen dialogue, the grand library hadn't conferred any mechanical effect in the game. But the setting itself was real enough. And if that world had become reality, it was only natural to assume the library would exist here as well.
So I had asked one of the household maids who handled various affairs around the estate — and the result was that we had arrived here.
I spoke to Miss Reika, who was still stammering under the sheer scale of the building.
"Shall we go in?"
"Huh? Ah — y-yes…!"
I led her inside. At the counter, an elderly man wearing a monocle with considerable flair greeted us.
"What brings you here?"
"I'd like to browse the books."
"To use the Aingart Grand Library, one must be a member of the Serpina Army…"
"My name is Swen."
"One moment, please."
The man pulled a densely written document from a drawer and studied it for some time. Then he looked me over a few times and said,
"Lord Swen. Welcome. However — the young lady beside you…?"
"Ah, I—"
"If I may ask — are territory citizens not permitted entry?"
"That is correct."
His tone was quite firm. I put on my most guileless expression.
"Even if they're family?"
"?!"
"Family, you say?"
"Yes. She is my wife. She's accompanying me today."
"Sw—!"
I took Reika's hand as she started to protest, giving her a silent signal.
Just play along.
Whether she understood or was simply too embarrassed to speak — her face flushed crimson, and she lowered her head without saying a word.
"Must I leave my wife outside while I go in alone?"
"Hmm…"
The old man considered for a moment, then nodded.
"Very well. Please come in. My apologies, madam."
"Ah — y-yes…!"
And so, without further difficulty, I brought Reika into the grand library.
"The books you're looking for are this way."
"Thank you."
Only after I'd thanked the librarian who guided us did I finally offer Miss Reika a proper apology. She hadn't said a single word the entire time.
"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, Miss Reika. But since we came together, I couldn't very well go in alone."
"Huh? Ah — n-no…! Th-that's… I-I didn't mind. And, um…"
Reika mumbled, her voice shrinking into near-inaudibility.
These past few days she'd grown comfortable enough around Lady Irene and me to speak in a clear, steady voice — but now she seemed to have reverted to the timid mode from when we'd first met.
"Th-that's… i-it isn't… e-exactly wrong, either…"
"Pardon?"
"I mean! Um… we…"
Reika's face turned redder than a ripe tomato.
"…are discussing a marriage arrangement… after all…"
"…You're taking that seriously, aren't you?"
"Huh? Ah… y-yes! Y-yes, I am thinking about it!"
"How seriously, exactly, if your voice is cracking at the end?"
"Ah — th-that's… u-uuuh…"
I smiled as I watched her hang her head in embarrassment. Even that stammering, flustered look of hers had started to seem rather endearing.
"Please think it over carefully. I'll respect whatever you decide, Miss Reika."
"Ah… y-yes."
If she said she wanted to marry me… I'd need to talk to Lady Irene first.
And if she chose not to marry, that was fine too. Miss Reika valued her freedom — she might not want to be bound to one man. At the very least, I wanted to respect her choice for her own sake, entirely apart from her abilities.
In any case, it wasn't a decision that needed making right now.
Now then.
Anyway.
The books I was looking for were supposed to be here.
I pulled a few from the shelves and checked them. Yes — these were the ones.
…The Great Sage who possessed the Mind's Eye.
The sole reason I had come all the way to this grand library — the information I absolutely needed if I was going to gild my ability into something presentable.
It was everything concerning the Mind's Eye.
When Zinor had roughly deduced my ability.
And when Lady Serpina had inferred it with near-perfect accuracy.
If those two people shared one common thread, it was this: both of them, looking at me, had uttered the words Mind's Eye.
Zinor had interpreted it as the power to see the future; Serpina had taken it as a faculty of judgment. But the moment that same term left both their mouths, it wasn't hard to conclude that the word was deeply connected to how they'd managed to approximate my ability.
I simply hadn't known the details. To learn them, I needed somewhere I could verify the information — and that choice had led me here, to the Aingart Grand Library.
After pulling several volumes and extracting the essential passages, I was able to distill the following proposition:
Several centuries ago, among those who served Kaltus von Aingart — the third emperor of the Aingard Empire — there was a man known as the Sage of the Mind's Eye. Peerless in the art of war and keen in matters of state, he rose to the position of State Tactician and achieved countless successes, earning the reverence of many.
The books certainly contained various information about the Sage of the Mind's Eye. But all they really said was that he had been an exceptionally gifted State Tactician. There wasn't much in the way of concrete clues that would let someone deduce my existence from his.
Just then—
"Lord Swen, are you looking for something in particular…?"
Miss Reika approached as I concentrated on the books.
"Ah, well."
I told her straightforwardly about the Mind's Eye. She tilted her head slightly.
"Are you looking for the legend of the Sage of the Mind's Eye, by any chance?"
"…Huh? You know about it, Miss Reika?"
"I once read every book in the house… I remember seeing it there."
…Ah.
Come to think of it — I kept forgetting, but Miss Reika's full name was Reika Nighthart.
She was the adoptive daughter of Zinor Nighthart, who had once drawn a salary from the Empire. Of course she might know.
This was an unofficial history connected to the imperial house. Anyone associated with the Empire would have heard it at least once — and the very basis for that inference was the fact that the two people who had mentioned the Mind's Eye to me were both figures tied to the old Empire.
Zinor had originally served the Empire, and Serpina was, needless to say, of the imperial bloodline itself.
"Could you tell me about it?"
"Well, to put it simply—"
Thanks to Miss Reika's quiet, careful explanation, I was able to learn the full story of the Sage of the Mind's Eye. Summarized, it came to this:
Because every piece of counsel he ever gave proved correct in the end, the emperor recognized his gift and bestowed upon him the title of Mind's Eye.
So that's the part.
At last I understood why Zinor and Serpina had looked at me and spoken of the Mind's Eye.
The man in these books seemed to have possessed all manner of talents beyond simply being invariably correct — unlike me. But the reason such a grand title had been attached to him was that, looking back, every word he spoke had turned out to be right.
If that information sat in their minds, it was only natural that they would claim I possessed the power of the Mind's Eye — I, who always seemed to be correct.
"However, no physical evidence remains that such an extraordinary person ever truly existed. The prevailing consensus among those who compile the historical records is that he is a legendary, almost mythological figure."
"Is that so?"
Reika nodded.
"Yes. Considering that only the title 'Sage of the Mind's Eye' survives, and that the name of a man who supposedly thrived as the Empire's State Tactician was never even passed down… I also think he may simply have been a figure invented for the Empire's founding mythology. The idea that everything he said was always correct isn't especially realistic, either…"
"I see…"
I nodded in agreement, thinking.
And yet the reason those two had been able to drape that mythological story over me was almost certainly this: a mage — another being once dismissed as purely mythical — had already stepped into the light.
If mages could exist, there was no reason the Sage of the Mind's Eye couldn't exist as well. And in truth, just as they had inferred, I did possess something very much like that ability.
Whether Intelligence 100 truly was the Mind's Eye was another question entirely.
Was Serpina connecting it to the meteor I had called down, and Zinor to his adoptive daughter?
…Good.
The reason I'd gone to the trouble of investigating this was simple: responding with knowledge and responding in ignorance were vastly different things.
Serpina's assessment had been correct. I could only know what the result would be. I couldn't know the process, or by what logic that result was produced.
In a situation like that, whether or not you could produce a plausible story when pressed a few more times made an enormous difference.
The next time I faced a similar interrogation, I would need to use this keyword somehow to slip free.
By gilding my ability with a convincing veneer, I would gain freedom of choice. That would earn me Serpina's near-certain trust — and later, I would be able to return to the Lunarien Army without much difficulty.
…But.
Does that mean… I'll have to lie to Lady Serpina?
The image of her wavering before my eyes made my heart grow complicated again. I gave a light shake of my head.
That wasn't a problem for now. …Not yet, at least.
"Well then."
I had done all I could here. What I needed to attend to next was… Miss Reika.
"Is there any book you'd like to read?"
"Huh? Ah… well."
"You're interested in books, aren't you? Considering you read everything in the house while you were at the estate, you seem to enjoy reading."
"No, um… I do enjoy it, but we came here for your business, Lord Swen, so…"
"I've finished what I needed to do. And since you've come out for a rare excursion, you should enjoy yourself a little, don't you think? It looks like you wouldn't be able to come here alone, either. I'll just sit beside you and read whatever."
"…Then… shall we?"
Reika asked, glancing up at me shyly.
As I thought — the books had been on her mind the whole time. The way her energy had lifted while explaining things to me suggested she was rather excited, too.
For anyone who loved books, this place was more than capable of stealing both mind and soul.
"I'd like that."
And so Miss Reika and I spent our time in the grand library.
What surprised me was this: I had been certain she would pick up something about mages or folklore — and instead, she selected a volume of chivalric literature for ladies. In other words, an ordinary romance fantasy.
Passing a lazy afternoon reading books beside Reika… turned out to be a rather fine experience.
Several days later.
At last, the morning of the regular council meeting arrived.