The Gilded Manor
"Hello. My name is Fio."
Fio greeted the friends with exceedingly formal courtesy.
Bayul had read about golems in books before. Back then, he had never imagined he would come face to face with one, so all he could feel now was sheer wonder.
"Where is he?"
He didn't want to call him "Dad," or even speak the name Rayegar. Though Eli's question lacked any subject, Fio somehow understood it perfectly and took the lead in guiding the group somewhere.
"My son, welcome."
Rayegar was waiting for them in what was surely the most flamboyant room in the entire manor — a spacious hall furnished not only with a grand piano, sofas, and ornaments, but with walls, windows, and even the ceiling covered from top to bottom in gold and jewels.
Whether the place had always looked like this or whether he had decorated it himself, there was no way to know. What mattered was that this excessively luxurious space suited Rayegar, its owner, so perfectly that it didn't feel the slightest bit strange.
"Hello there, friends! Even lovelier to see you a second time."
Reclining diagonally across the sofa as if showing off his long, slender frame, he waved at the friends.
"What happened to Fio's leg? Did you do that?"
Eli asked bluntly, without a shred of preamble. The face he made as he glanced around the room was twisted with displeasure, as if nothing here was to his liking.
"And why is the house like this? It's embarrassing in front of my friends."
"Fio chose it."
So don't take it out on me.
"This house was the best available, sir."
"...If Fio says so, then I suppose that's that."
The vivid flames that had been blazing in Eli's eyes like twin hearths snuffed out in an instant.
"And that leg of his wasn't my doing — it was yours."
"What are you talking about? When did I ever—?"
"You set the fire when you ran away from home. Did you seriously think no one would get hurt?"
"Of course I did! I checked that no one was there!"
As Eli protested, telling him not to spout nonsense, Rayegar said with weary exasperation,
"Do you know Fio so little? With his personality, do you really think he'd hear 'oh, a fire' and just stand there doing nothing?"
"...So he got like that trying to put it out?"
"To be precise, he was injured trying to cover up your mistake."
If the goal had been to shut Eli up, it was a resounding success. When the boy finally registered what he'd just learned, he turned around trembling — and Fio ducked his head, avoiding Eli's gaze.
"Still, it's lucky it only ended like this. If I'd been even a little later, he would have lost the leg entirely."
"I am quite all right, sir."
"And who was it that treated you, hmm?"
Rayegar nodded along, as if every bit of it had been his own achievement.
"I'm sorry, Fio. I knew you were fatally vulnerable to fire, and I still made that mistake."
"Master Killian, I truly am fine. Even if I had lost the leg, I would never have blamed you."
"I know. It's exactly what you'd do, Fio."
The only reason Eli had endured that insufferable household at all was Fio. For a boy with nowhere else to turn, he had been his one and only confidant — his pillar.
"Now then, enough of these dreary topics. Shall we go eat something delicious?"
Inviting guests over only to sit around chattering was not in Rayegar's nature. He sprang to his feet and beckoned for them to follow.
"You're all here before lunch, I take it? You must be starving. There's not much prepared, but eat as much as you like."
Compared to the hall from moments ago, it was practically modest — but the dining room's size and decoration were still opulent in the extreme.
On a broad table that could easily seat twenty, dishes of every variety were laid out in such mouthwatering abundance that one look was enough to make the mouth water.
Most astonishing of all was the tableware — the plates, cups, and spoons were worked not only with gold and silver, but studded with precious gems.
"Whoa! Ray, you were actually telling the truth? There are gems all over them! Incredible!"
Aidan walked over in a trance, gazing down at the table in awe. It wasn't that the jeweled dishes were pretty or stylish — he was simply struck all over again that such a thing actually existed.
"I imagine my son must have been boasting at some point?"
"Since when is that something to boast about? I just happened to mention it once."
"All right, all right, come and sit."
"...Thank you for having us."
"Thank you for the meal."
Whatever the circumstances, they had come, and so courtesy was due. Besides, it was past time to be hungry — and they were curious about the food. After sneaking glances at Eli's expression, the friends took their seats one by one and began to eat.
"Well? Is it to your liking?"
"Yes, it's delicious."
"...Very good, indeed."
The food was, in fact, superb. They simply hadn't said so out of consideration for Eli's foul mood — but every one of them had been stunned at the first bite.
"By the way, why is my son picking at his food like that? Does it not taste good?"
"How could it possibly taste good? I was threatened into coming here. Would it be weird for me to enjoy the meal?"
"Threatened?"
"W-what kind of threat?"
The startled friends all put down their spoons and forks at once, as if on cue.
"Why else would I be here? And I'm not even surprised. It's one of that man's specialties."
"What on earth did he threaten you with?"
"Can we talk about it?"
It was Rayegar who answered Aidan's question. With his characteristic mischievous expression, he looked at Eli and asked.
What kind of threat is a threat? When someone is forced to do something they find repulsive, there's always a reason — and naturally, most people don't want those reasons made public. Eli was no exception.
"Why do you keep doing this to me? Why do you keep showing up out of nowhere like this!"
"I simply haven't been attentive enough, that's all."
"Ha! Unbelievable. When have you ever cared about me? I'm hardly that important to you. You know it, and I know it."
"Killian, do you remember what I told you — that seeing is not the same as knowing? Have you forgotten already?"
"My name is Eli! Get it right!"
"...Such a temper."
For a moment, Rayegar's eyes grew heavy and dark as he watched his son on the verge of eruption.
He still knows nothing. That unless he learns to control that temperament, it will decide whether he lives or dies.
"Well then, Eli. From now on, this father of yours intends, for your sake—"
"Spare me! Just tell us about Ingrid's molting. That's what we came for."
Cutting Rayegar off at the root, Eli drove straight to the point. All he wanted was to end this situation as quickly as possible and flee this place.
Gulp.
The moment he'd been dreading had finally arrived. Aidan stiffened and turned to face the Chairman with a face gone rigid.
"Come to think of it, I don't see Ingrid anywhere today?"
"I left her at home. It felt like the right thing to do, somehow."
"There was no need for that."
"Please tell us. I've been so curious I haven't slept for days."
"Hmm, well, you see."
Rayegar propped his chin on his hand and drew out the pause. On the surface it might look like a man deciding where to begin — but Eli knew his father far too well for that.
"If you don't start talking properly, you know what happens, right? I swear I'll burn this whole place down too!"
It was the unvarnished truth. He couldn't leave his friends dangling in that man's clutches as well. One plaything was more than enough.
"Have any of you heard of the Shapeshifter Beast?"
As if Eli's ultimatum had finally struck home, Rayegar at last began his story in earnest. And yet, unexpectedly, what came out of his mouth was the very subject of the Metamorph they had discussed only days before.
"You mean that creature from the Demon Realm — the one whose appearance twists into something grotesque as the price of drinking the Springs of Destruction? Our Ingrid is n-not one of those monsters — I mean, a Metamorph?"
To Aidan, Ingrid was an endlessly precious, adorable little sibling. Could it be that once this "molting" was done, she might turn into something monstrous?
"Th-that's impossible! There's no way!"
Bayul and the others were shaken too. A creature from the Demon Realm — of all things? It didn't fit Ingrid at all.
"When did I ever say Ingrid was a Metamorph? You have to let people finish their sentences. You really are impatient, aren't you?"
"...I'm sorry, what?"
Aidan's heart was still hammering. Face crumpling as if he might burst into tears on the spot, he looked up again with anxious eyes, still repeating what do I do, what do I do under his breath.
"Ingrid is not a Metamorph."
"...Sh-she's not?"
"Then why bring it up at all?"
"Why would you mention Metamorphs when they have nothing to do with this?"
Quinn and Logan's tones were openly aggressive.
"One more careless word and they look ready to throw a punch. They really are my son's friends, aren't they!"
"Just answer the question."
Under Quinn's ice-cold prodding, Rayegar chuckled and let the words slip out — short and simple.
"She's a child."
"......?"
"Metamorphs are, by definition, mutated variants, so they are generally sterile. But on very rare occasions, one succeeds in mating and bears offspring."
"And that offspring...?"
"To put it simply — a mutation born of another mutation. That is precisely what Ingrid is. Her kind must pass through a process called molting before they can be born as their complete, true adult form. There. Does that explain things?"
"When does this molting happen? How would we even know?"
"I don't know either. The timing is never the same twice."
"Does 'complete adult form' mean Ingrid could transform into something entirely unlike what she is now? Like a Metamorph?"
"Sharp as ever."
Rayegar winked one eye at Logan.
"Just as the timing is unpredictable, no one knows what form they'll take. That's simply how creatures of the Demon Realm are. Full of strange, impossible things."
"How did a Metamorph ever cross over into the human realm?"
"Hmm. Well, if you look, there are plenty of ways... Hey there, son's friend! Are you all right?"
Aidan was half out of his wits. The word Demon Realm kept circling round and round in his head.
"You shouldn't let it shock you this early, you know..."
Rayegar suddenly dropped his voice low.
"She's small and fragile now — but who's to say what kind of terrifying monster she might transform into?"
"A-a m-monster?"
"You've never seen a Metamorph, have you?"
Aidan shook his head, swallowing dryly. Dreadful images flashed wildly through his mind, but he tried his hardest not to dwell on them.
"You see, a Metamorph is—"
"Stop!"
"That's quite enough."
Eli shouted, and Quinn issued a warning. Then Bayul rose to his feet.
"We should be going."
"Oh? Leaving already?"
"...We have something we all need to do at our place. We'll visit again soon."
Calming Aidan down was the first priority. If they lingered like this, he feared not only Aidan but the rest of them would be subjected to more of these harrowing revelations.
Ignoring Eli's advice had been their mistake. With a Chairman like Rayegar, the wisest course was to avoid engaging him as much as possible.
"Aha, is that so? Perfect timing, then. I'll come along."
"...I beg your pardon?"
Bayul stared at Rayegar as he rose to follow, utterly dumbfounded.
"What are you saying? Why would you go there?"
"Because I have business there. Something I absolutely must see."
"At our house...?"
"Yes. I can come along, can't I?"
Not the slightest thought of being refused showed on his face. Eli finally let loose the shriek he'd been holding back.
"Are you insane? Just try following us! I swear, this time I won't stay quiet!"
"And if you don't stay quiet, what will you do?"
"I'll quit."
"Quit what?"
"I said I'll quit. You, obviously — and the Academy too. I'll throw it all away and disappear somewhere far away for good!"
"R-Ray!"
Bayul lunged and grabbed Eli in alarm. The boy looked as if he might genuinely vanish on the spot, and it frightened him.
The other friends stared at Eli in stunned disbelief as well. Their faces made it plain that not one of them had ever imagined he harbored thoughts like these.
"So don't you dare dream of following us. Understood?"
"First running away from home, now issuing threats?"
"I learned it from watching you."
Answer a threat with a threat. It was the shrewdest survival tactic Eli had mastered from a lifetime of living with Rayegar.
"All right. For now, I shall withdraw."
For some reason, Rayegar surrendered without a fight. The mischief still danced in his eyes, but this once, he seemed to have decided to let his son win.
"If my precious darling wants it this badly, then a father ought to oblige him once in a while, shouldn't he?"
Of course, he couldn't resist landing one last comment designed to twist the knife all the way to the hilt.