The Living Legend
"Fall in and tidy up."
Duke Randert sheathed his sword and issued the order again, as though nothing had happened. At once, the knights who had formed a ring around Bayul scattered and set about restoring the camp.
The collapsed tents were raised anew, and the extinguished bonfires were kindled back to life. Broken trees and shattered boulders were gathered up and piled in a corner out of the way.
Amid all the bustle, the only one standing dazed was Bayul. For the first time in his life, he had witnessed with his own eyes the legendary might of his father that he had only ever heard about in stories. Overwhelmed by a power far beyond anything he had imagined, Bayul had frozen solid like a statue.
Perhaps it would be more accurate to say his thoughts had simply stopped. A man had held back a landslide with nothing but a single sword. Even having seen it happen, he couldn't bring himself to believe it.
He had always assumed a sword was a weapon used only in battle, to fight against someone. He had never known it could be used like this.
"As expected of His Grace the Duke. Magnificent, simply magnificent."
Father Juan gazed up at Bayul's father, pouring out praise. He too was witnessing such an astonishing sight for the first time, but his reverence for Duke Randert ran so deep that he was accepting it more readily than even the Duke's own son.
"I never dreamed I would live to see the Duke of Randert's grandeur with my own eyes!"
Overcome with emotion, Father Juan's voice trembled faintly.
"I shall remember this for the rest of my days."
No one who had seen it would ever forget. The same was true for Bayul.
The living legend of the empire.
Only today, at last, did Bayul feel he truly understood why people called his father that.
The next day. The place Bayul arrived at with his father was a small village nestled in the barren mountains, home to barely twenty households in all.
The moment the party set foot at the village entrance, the village chief and a handful of residents came hurrying toward them, as if they had been waiting.
"Well now! My lord! You've come!"
"To travel all this way to our poor, remote little village again!"
"It is an honor, my lord!"
They threw themselves flat on the muddy ground before Duke Randert in homage. The filth soaked into their clothes didn't concern them in the slightest. Had the Duke not ordered them to rise, they seemed ready to bow their five bodies to the earth itself.
"Up with you now. You could have greeted us inside — why must you always do this?"
"We beg your forgiveness! But when my lord himself has journeyed so far to see us, how could we simply stand by?"
"Never, my lord! Absolutely not!"
"We're ashamed to have nothing worthy to offer you!"
"Are you all planning to stand out here in this?"
It was Sadad who finally stepped in, unable to watch any longer. He understood full well their reverence for the Duke. But rain was now pouring down in sheets. Before the medicine and provisions they had brought were ruined, getting out of the rain took priority.
"Goodness! No, no!"
"We must get everyone inside!"
Only then did the villagers come to their senses, springing up and hurriedly leading the party onward. The place they were guided to was one they had visited before — the largest and finest house in the village.
Rain leaked through a hole in the ceiling, and a damp, musty smell hung in the air. Conditions were worse than the last visit.
Yet neither Duke Randert nor anyone else so much as frowned. They simply went about their work as they always had, unpacking the goods they'd brought and laying them out across the tables like an offering.
"Call everyone here — everyone except those too infirm to come."
At Sadad's instruction, the chief and villagers immediately dashed off to spread the word.
"You lot, go have a look around and see if there's anything that needs particular attention."
They hadn't even had time to shed their rain cloaks. The knights and Death headed straight out to survey the village. Unsure of what he ought to be doing, Bayul floundered for a moment before deciding to help Father Juan, who was sorting the jumbled herbs by type as they were carried in.
"I had no idea you took an interest in herbology, young master."
"...Pardon?"
At Father Juan's out-of-the-blue remark, Bayul looked up from the herbs with wide eyes. The priest gestured at the array of plants he had been sorting through.
"Quite a few of these are difficult to tell apart at a glance. Yet you're picking them out flawlessly, one and all. Isn't that so?"
"Ah."
"I hear Carrington Academy teaches herbology as well? It seems you've been studying diligently in class rather than letting your attention wander."
"...Ahaha, well, herbology is rather fascinating. I'm just glad I can be of help to you, Father."
The truth was that it was all thanks to Shame's one-on-one tutoring (which was how he'd earned a perfect score on his last herbology exam), but since he couldn't say that, Bayul just laughed awkwardly and let it pass.
"I'll be stepping out for a while, then."
"Yes, Your Grace. That would be for the best."
Father Juan nodded in understanding. The reason they had come all this way was to distribute food and supplies to this relatively isolated region and treat the sick. Once the villagers began to gather, their presence would inevitably be consumed by everyone paying formal respects to the Duke. It had happened many times before. His absence here was, in effect, a form of help.
"Will you come along with me?"
Even having the lord's son present would be a burden in its own way.
"Yes, Father."
Bayul quickly threw his rain cloak back over his shoulders.
"Let's take a walk for a bit."
The downpour was still hammering down, but there was nowhere proper to go. Leaving the building and walking along the stone-walled path, Bayul made a request to Tempesta.
Tempesta, could you redirect the rain away from us?
With his father walking beside him, it seemed more natural to push the rain away with wind than to simply thin it nearby.
—You got it! No problem at all!
The moment Tempesta raised the wind, the amount of rain reaching their bodies diminished noticeably. He hadn't asked Shame directly, but the earth spirit was already smoothing the path ahead so the two of them could walk comfortably.
"It has been quite some time since I last took a walk in the rain."
Duke Randert murmured, his eyes fixed straight ahead.
Mother......
Perhaps it was the word "walk" that did it. Suddenly, Bayul found himself thinking of his mother, who used to delight in taking walks whenever it rained.
She must have walked close beside Father, just like I am now, right?
Would it be alright to ask about her?
Unable to bring himself to meet his father's face, Bayul stared down at the Duke's boots, mired in indecision. He wanted to ask in whatever way would hurt his father least — but he still didn't know what way that was.
"Clutching that pendant again, I see."
At some point, Duke Randert had stopped walking and was looking at him. His eyes, fixed on the son who was fiddling with the necklace out of habit, had grown somehow moist.
"Your mother did the same."
"......!"
It was an unexpected confession. Bayul was genuinely stunned — he had never once dreamed that his father would be the first to bring up his mother.
"She was a woman of many laughs. And yet, every so often, a shadow of sorrow would cross her face as she touched that pendant."
Duke Randert's gaze lingered on the pendant for a moment.
"Whenever I asked her why, she would only shake her head and say nothing. So I came to dislike that necklace, truth be told."
"...Did you, Father?"
"I suppose it was a timid sort of jealousy."
"Do you still...... miss her?"
The Duke did not answer. But the answer was already more than enough. The faintest tremor passed through his father's blue eyes.
"I heard she loved the rain."
"...She did."
"And that she often went walking on rainy days......"
"That's right. I tried to stop her, fearing she'd catch some illness, but it was useless. She never bent her will for anyone."
Duke Randert gave a small, wistful laugh, as though an old memory had surfaced. Bayul gathered his courage and asked.
"What kind of person was she, Mother? Lately I find myself so curious about her."
He wanted to hear more than what Cunning the butler and Rita had told him.
"Yvette...... She was a pure soul. Bright and lovely as a child, with a gift for bringing joy to everyone around her."
She was a woman of rare refinement and grace, hardly ever to be found in a remote mountain village like this. With a single meeting, she had stolen the Duke's heart entirely — a woman he had never been able to forget, even after all these years.
If he could see Yvette again, there was nothing Duke Randert would not do.
"This pendant... you said Mother wore it even before she met you, didn't you?"
"I had gone to no small trouble preparing a separate wedding gift, but she insisted the pendant was better and would never take it off. The only time she ever removed that necklace from her neck was when she placed it around yours with her own hands."
"...She put this on me herself?"
This was news to him. He had always assumed he inherited it after her death, and that the reason it passed to him rather than his twin was simply Bail's consideration for his frail brother.
"Yes. And......"
...And then she vanished, just like that.
As the Duke recalled his last moments with her, his voice sank suddenly, as though submerged in deep water. It had not faded yet. That strange scene from that day, which no words could ever explain, remained vividly clear in the Duke's mind.
Why did Mother place this on me, and only me?
Where is the ring she used to wear?
Was Mother really human, like us?
Is it certain she truly passed away?
Countless questions surged up his throat, but Bayul couldn't bring himself to voice a single one. His father's complexion had darkened in an instant.
Why me, when Bail was there too?
Once again, the more I learn about Mother, the more questions I have.
Should I just ask him outright?
Rita's words came back to him unbidden — that as her child, he had every right to know about his mother.
Yes. When the subject comes up naturally, that's when I should ask. Ripping it off all at once will hurt less than drawing it out.
"Um, Father......"
The very moment Bayul steeled himself with difficulty and opened his mouth—
"Your Grace! You must come at once!"
Sadad came sprinting toward the Duke, his face grave.
"What is it?"
A bad feeling settled in his gut. And sure enough.
"It's... a child has gone missing!"
"A child is missing?"
"Yes. According to the chief, the boy lost his parents in the flood damage last time and lives alone. He was definitely there as of yesterday afternoon, but when the villagers gathered, he was nowhere to be seen!"
"Sex and age?"
"A boy. Thirteen this year."
"Begin the search immediately!"
Having given the order, Duke Randert hurried off as well. In his mind, the landslide from yesterday afternoon replayed itself. The distance was considerable, but there was no guarantee the village had been spared entirely.
"Tempesta!"
He had missed his chance to ask about his mother, but even Bayul could tell how urgent this was. He turned to the fastest of his three spirits.
"Find out where that child is! Please!"
Tempesta had sharp ears and could pick out sounds from far away — he might even beat his father to it.
—On it! I'll find him in a flash!
Delighted at finally having a job to do, Tempesta shot up into the air.
"Just in case, please have Shame check underground too."
—Understood......
Please, let it not be an accident.
Bayul couldn't just stand by either. He hurried off with Innocent toward where the villagers had gathered.
"Hm?"
But what on earth was going on? As if the missing boy had returned while no one was looking, the villagers were crowded around him, showering him with scoldings.
"Oh my! Oh my! Pablo, you rascal! Where on earth have you been all this time?!"
"You little fool! Do you have any idea how worried we've been?"
"I told you not to stay by yourself — come stay at our house!"
"You scared the living daylights out of us!"
—Bayul, I think that's the kid who went missing?
Tempesta drooped his shoulders and pouted sulkily. Even Bayul, who had taken the situation for an emergency, could only blink at the boy and villagers with a vaguely dazed expression.
"Thank you! Thank you so much!"
"If it weren't for you, this could have been a disaster!"
The strange thing was that Death was standing stiffly right beside the boy called Pablo. His hair and clothes soaked through by the rain, he was nonchalantly accepting the villagers' praise.
"Death here is the one who found the boy."
"...Found him where?"
When Bayul asked, Ian had come over to explain.
"It seems he discovered him buried in earth and debris."
"You mean he was trapped under a mound of dirt?"
"Yes. Quite the remarkable coincidence, wouldn't you say?"
"Still, thank goodness the boy is safe!"
What Ian did not mention — did not need to mention — was just how impossibly deep that earth had been. Ian himself, and beyond him Duke Randert, gazed at Death for a long moment with unreadable eyes.