Chapter 3 — Making It Rain
The warmth in his father's voice gradually settled the pounding of Bayul's heart.
That's right — I'm not alone. Father is right here with me, so what is there to worry about? Everything will be all right.
Bayul drew a deep breath and, just as his father had told him, lifted his chin.
"I say, Duke Randert! Have you no sense of where you are, hauling people in like this without a care?"
The words burst from Duke Hector the very moment father and son, along with Quinn, took their seats, his whole body radiating displeasure. His cronies, as if they had only been waiting for the cue, quickly chimed in one after another.
"The Grand Hall is a place of dignity, presided over by His Majesty himself! How could you bring an outsider into such a chamber?"
"And that child beside you is nothing but a lowly merfolk, is he not? Are you mocking the imperial crown itself, Duke Randert?"
"Mind your tongue, Marquis Voytek. This boy is the heir who will one day inherit the throne of the Mermaid Kingdom. What manner of insolence is this, speaking so of a prince of a nation?"
"The Mermaid Kingdom? Where on the map is that supposed to be? This is the first I've ever heard of it. Have any of you gentlemen heard such a thing?"
"I confess I have no interest in those filthy beastkin."
"He was a sore sight at the imperial banquet, and now I must endure him here in the Grand Hall as well! I shudder to think how His Majesty's temper will flare when he learns of it!"
Despite Duke Randert's rebuke, several ministers made no effort to hide their fury. Bayul's father had expected as much, yet facing it in person, he could not help but sigh at their narrow-mindedness all over again.
"Everyone, calm yourselves. You all know perfectly well that Duke Randert is not a man who does anything without reason, do you not? He must have brought them along for good cause, so that will be quite enough."
It was Liam, stepping forward in his brother's stead to dispel the hostile atmosphere settling over the Grand Hall.
"Heh, so you claim there's a 'good cause,' do you? Just how extraordinary must this cause be to justify such sacrilege! Even granting that Duke Randert is a war hero, this is something that absolutely cannot be brushed aside!"
"Cannot be brushed aside?"
Duke Randert echoed Marquis Voytek's words verbatim, his eyes locking onto the man's.
"Go on, then. Tell me what you intend to do about it. Do you plan to strip me of my office for insulting the crown?"
"S-strip your office? When did I ever say such a thing? You greatly misunderstand, my lord!"
The Duke had done nothing but look at him, and yet Marquis Voytek felt his heart lurch. Those fearsome eyes seemed to have turned to blades, flying across the hall to pierce him through the chest.
"And if I will not strip you of office, then what? Insulting the crown is a crime among crimes. Having committed so grave an offense, do you intend to petition His Majesty to have me beheaded?"
"B-beheaded? I would never dare make such a request of His Majesty! The thought never once crossed my mind!"
"Oh? Is that so?"
"Tr-truly, I swear it! If I displeased you, I offer my sincere apologies — pray, let your displeasure go."
As Marquis Voytek bowed his head low, his cronies likewise averted their eyes from Duke Randert and cleared their throats awkwardly. Only moments ago they had been confident they held the upper hand; now the Duke's icy fury had cowed every last one of them.
And small wonder — the Duke's bearing and manner of speech were utterly transformed from his usual self. His presence had always been formidable, true, but he was by nature a man of few words who never let his anger show.
To hear such a man utter such chilling words with such cold eyes made their stomachs shrivel on their own.
This was the Duke revered across the empire — indeed, across the whole continent. To speak of stripping the living legend of his office, of beheading him? Such a thing could never happen. No — it must never happen. Not a soul in this hall could bear the fallout.
Duke Hector's faction was not the only one taken aback; even Duke Randert's own people murmured among themselves, startled by his words. None on either side had ever seen the Duke take so hard a line.
"His Majesty the Emperor and His Highness the Crown Prince enter!"
Just then, the herald's announcement rang out. Crown Prince Lindemann had often attended Grand Hall sessions since coming of age.
"Take your seats, all of you."
When Emperor and Crown Prince settled onto the throne, the ministers who had risen sat back down. As the Emperor swept his gaze across his subjects, a question soon clouded his eyes — and the Crown Prince's as well.
"Duke Randert. Is that not your son sitting beside you? Did you bring him yourself?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. I know full well that the Grand Hall admits no ordinary visitors, and yet I humbly beg the chance to explain why I brought them along."
"Of course you would not have done so without cause. I was merely curious — it is no trouble to me. Let us hear your reasons in due course."
Unlike the ministers, the Emperor accepted the Duke's words without a flicker of resistance. Bayul watched, secretly astonished, as the Emperor extended such courtesy to his father, a subject.
He had known it from reading about it, but seeing it with his own eyes filled him with a quiet pride. He could feel the faces of the men who had raged about the sanctity of the crown growing stiffer and stiffer.
"We are deeply grateful for Your Majesty's boundless magnanimity."
"Your Majesty — begging Your pardon, but today's session was convened to discuss the strange events that unfolded in Romandsi. I simply cannot fathom why Duke Randert saw fit to bring his son and a merfolk boy into so weighty an assembly. It is only proper that we hear his explanation before the session begins."
Duke Hector had fired the opening shot. In truth, he had been waiting for this day.
The events in Romandsi were suspicious in a dozen different ways. Duke Randert was unquestionably hiding something. Hector had resolved to drag that secret into the light today — and to demand the Duke account for concealing it in the first place.
"Quite right, Duke Hector. We have gathered today to speak of the earthquake and tsunami that struck Romandsi. That is precisely why I brought Bayul and Quinn here. For those who do not know: my son here is Bayul, and this boy from the Mermaid Kingdom is named Quinn."
"Duke Randert, I confess I do not follow. Why would you claim that the events in Romandsi have anything to do with Bayul?"
When Crown Prince Lindemann asked with a puzzled tilt of his head, not only the Emperor but many of the ministers wore expressions of agreement.
The story went that at the very instant a colossal wave was about to swallow the city, the tsunami had stopped moving, as if time itself had frozen. More than that — it had then been driven backward, as though controlled by someone's will.
And that was not all. A mound of earth had materialized out of nowhere on flat ground, and the earth split apart by the earthquake had been restored to its former state in the blink of an eye.
Countless soldiers and the citizens of Romandsi had all testified to the same impossible account — impossible to believe unless one had seen it with one's own eyes.
The people attributed it all to Duke Randert, but the Emperor and his ministers suspected it was not entirely within his power. Commanding nature itself was beyond even the greatest man alive.
"It is because the ones who stopped the tsunami and the earthquake were Bayul and Quinn."
Everyone had been expecting some plausible answer. Knowing how full of mysteries the Duke was, they had anticipated he would unveil some astonishing secret.
But to hear that two boys not yet even grown had held back a tsunami and an earthquake — it was absurd, almost laughable.
"Hah! Duke Randert, your jests go too far!"
"Something all the imperial mages gathered together could not accomplish — and you claim those children did it? You play childish games unworthy of your name."
"Your Majesty, how could I possibly dare to jest before you? I am simply telling the truth."
Amid the general bewilderment, Duke Randert alone remained composed. And in that composure, the murmuring of the Grand Hall gradually died away. Then a perfect silence fell.
Just as he said, Duke Randert was not a man who joked. No one had ever seen him tell a joke in their lives — least of all in a setting like this.
"…Is it truly so? Really… your son, and that boy from the Mermaid Kingdom?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. Quinn, being of the merfolk, has the power to command water. And Bayul is a Spirit User."
"A Spirit User?"
"It will be an unfamiliar word to Your Majesty, and to the ministers gathered here. A Spirit User is one who commands spirits."
"Ah — spirits! You mean what I saw back then…!"
Though he still knew little of what spirits were, he had glimpsed one before — the being he had mistaken for a ghost. The Crown Prince suddenly remembered Bayul's words: that once the Duke returned from the war, everything would be laid bare.
"Crown Prince. Do you know something of this?"
The Emperor could not make head or tail of any of it — spirits, Spirit Users, what the Duke was even talking about. And in the midst of it all, his own son showed signs of knowing something. The Emperor's eyes widened.
"Yes, Father. On the day of the ambush at Carrington Academy, we received the aid of a spirit."
"Received the aid of a spirit? And why am I hearing of this only now?"
"I beg your forgiveness, Father. I could not speak of it — I was bound by a promise to Bayul."
"What? A promise?"
The Emperor's brow furrowed. To conceal something in an affair so directly tied to the Crown Prince's life was a grave crime, whether one liked it or not.
"Your Majesty — it was by my own order that he kept silent. I judged it no matter to be passed over lightly, and intended to report it to Your Majesty in person, as I am doing now, once I had ended the war and returned."
"That is correct, Father. Bayul told me the same."
Crown Prince Lindemann hurried to add this, wary of the Emperor's temper.
"As you know, Father, Bayul saved me from the assassins. You have surely also heard that he died in my place — and came back to life."
"Of course I know it! I had intended to honor that service all along."
It had merely been pushed aside by the outbreak of war; he had not forgotten. From the reports, he knew everything — how the boy called Quinn had sacrificed himself to save Bayul, and how the dead Quinn had been resurrected through the Primordial Relic. In truth, the Emperor had been quietly glad to see Bayul and Quinn in the Grand Hall.
"Then, Duke Randert — will you explain to me what spirits and Spirit Users are?"
"I believe it would be better for my son to give the explanation himself rather than I, Your Majesty."
At last, the moment had come for Bayul to step forward. With the Emperor's leave granted, he rose, bowed with due courtesy, and began to lay out all he knew of the spirits.
A short while later.
The reaction split in two. Some were stunned by the very existence of spirits, a truth never known to the world — while many ministers simply refused to believe that any such thing could exist. A few even flew into a rage.
"What utter nonsense is this! Creatures that command nature? In all my years, I have never once heard of such a thing!"
"That is because spirits vanished entirely from this world long ago. That is why natural disasters have beset the continent one after another."
"Hah. And the continent certainly suffers no shortage of disasters these days. So by your own words — you, a Spirit User who commands these spirits that rule nature — you claim you could stop those very disasters."
To Duke Hector, Bayul's words sounded like a child's wild fantasy. And the sight of Duke Randert indulging such drivel struck him as utterly ridiculous.
"I know it is difficult to believe. But every word of it is true."
"Your lies know no bounds! Have you any idea where you stand, spouting whatever nonsense comes into your head? Are you confident you can prove these preposterous claims?"
Just as he had expected. Bayul answered without a moment's hesitation.
"Of course. I can prove it right now."
"What did you say?"
The boy's unshakable backbone was the very image of his father's. Duke Hector asked with a crooked smile.
"Very well — and how, exactly, do you intend to prove it?"
"I will make it rain."
The imperial capital had suffered drought for years on end. The reservoirs had long since run dry, and the once-fertile farmland — where not so much as a blade of grass grew — had cracked like an old man's parched skin through the entire winter. They had held countless rain rituals, praying for the sky to open, numbering in the dozens.
In these times, when no one could even remember the last time they had watched a single drop of water fall from the heavens, Bayul's confident declaration that he would make it rain sent a shockwave through the Grand Hall.