Episode 37

"Someone came to see me?"

"That's... A man named Logan MacLaine. He arrived without any prior appointment and practically demanded to see you, so I thought I should at least inform—"

Felix's expression visibly stiffened upon hearing those words, and the knight's face grew even more rigid in response.

"My apologies! I'll send him away immediately."

"No, it's fine. Let him in."

"...Excuse me?"

The knight's eyes widened at the completely ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠unexpected reply.

"Let him in."

With those softly spoken words, Logan stepped into a modest-looking office.

Unlike the typical noble's study—decorated with paintings, porcelain, and lavish ornaments—this room was furnished with simple, unadorned pieces.

Seated by the sunlit window at the far end of a long conference table was a man with golden facial hair extending down to his chin—a handsome middle-aged man with gentle eyes.

Logan immediately bowed his head upon seeing him.

"I greet the Sword Duke. I am Logan MacLaine, eldest son of House MacLaine."

"MacLaine... That's the territory in the southwest, isn't it? What brings a son from there all the way here?"

The deep, resonant voice matched his dignified appearance.

Though he appeared to be in his forties or fifties, that was merely due to the suppression of aging through his overwhelming force—his true age was closer to seventy.

This was Felix Esperanza, the Sword Duke, revered as the strongest swordsman in the Grandia Kingdom.

As Felix's heavy gaze settled on him, Logan recalled Philip's frantic protests before his visit.

"Anyway, I'm not going! Absolutely not! Even if something happens to you, I'll pretend I know nothing about it. Understood?!"

Philip couldn't comprehend Logan's confidence in casually seeking an audience with the Sword Duke.

To put it bluntly, what Logan was attempting was akin to barging into the home of one of the kingdom's most powerful figures—a transcendent warrior—and saying:

"So, you're impotent, right? And you stole my stuff yesterday? Hehe."

"You're picking a fight where none exists. Just pretend you don't know anything! If this goes wrong, we're screwed!"

Philip's concerns weren't entirely unfounded.

But if the man from last night truly was the Sword Duke, this was an opportunity Logan couldn't afford to miss.

A chance to forge a favorable connection with one of the kingdom's most influential figures.

That alone made the gamble worthwhile.

'I don't even need to bring up last night. If he really is the Sword Duke, then the rumors must be true—and if the rumors are true...'

Logan had a way to fix it.

Philip dismissed it as exaggerated marketing, but the effects of Impolik were anything but false.

Of course, the two pills taken yesterday wouldn't have been enough to produce noticeable results.

'The real question was whether that thief was actually the Sword Duke...'

Even now, face-to-face, Logan couldn't be entirely certain.

It made no sense why a man of the Sword Duke's stature would personally commit such an act.

But the fact that Felix Esperanza—the Sword Duke himself—had immediately agreed to meet an unannounced country bumpkin only strengthened Logan's conviction.

And operating under the assumption that his deductions were correct, Logan had prepared the perfect gift.

"It's an honor to meet you. And this is..."

Before Felix could respond, Logan retrieved a small box from his coat.

"I recently started a business in the capital. I brought this as a gift on my way to see you."

Felix remained silent, his gaze utterly devoid of emotion as it shifted between Logan and the box.

Unfazed, Logan strode confidently forward.

"The product I sell is a tonic called Impolik. Its efficacy has already been proven among numerous nobles—its benefits for men are guaranteed."

"...Is that so?"

Felix's flat tone was unmistakably indifferent.

Yet, Logan's next words caused a faint tremor in the Sword Duke's blue eyes.

"But such things are hardly necessary for a transcendent like yourself, so I prepared something more... special."

And as he said this, Logan inwardly cheered.

'It's him!'

The indifferent expression was likely because Impolik had no effect on him.

Considering how Impolik worked, that was only natural.

The meat of the monster Karok was inherently toxic, and while the neutralizing agent reduced its potency to a harmless level for ordinary people, trace amounts of toxicity remained.

It was this residual toxicity, combined with the meat's properties, that produced its dual effects as both a vitality booster and a treatment ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠for dysfunction—so potent that it could even induce near-regenerative effects in that specific area.

But what happened when it encountered a transcendent—an Aura User, the pinnacle of superhumans?

That minuscule toxicity wouldn't even register in their enhanced physiology.

So the solution was simple.

'Concentrate the toxin to an extreme degree.'

Click.

With a smile, Logan opened the small box.

"This is the..."

Inside lay a single, ornately wrapped pill, encased in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠gold foil.

"...special limited edition."

"...Huh."

Felix exhaled a single, complicated sigh.

What expression would he make if he knew this "special limited edition" was just fifty pills condensed into one?

The gold foil was purely for presentation.

'I suffered through testing it myself...'

The writhing agony in his gut, the unrelenting throbbing down there—

Logan broke into a cold sweat as memories of the torment he endured just before coming here resurfaced.

And he had the advantage of Force Core reinforcement. An ordinary man would have died.

'But for an Aura User...'

That level of toxicity wouldn't even cause discomfort.

Which meant only the benefits remained.

The miraculous effect of an otherworldly monster's meat—something even in his past life had never been fully understood.

That was why Logan could extend his hand with confidence.

"It may not be much, but I hope you'll accept it as a token of my concern for your well-being."

"Is this the end of your business? You want nothing in return?"

"Of course."

Go ahead and ask if I want something.

The question carried an undertone of suspicion, but Logan's reply was unwavering.

'Mentioning last night or making demands now would ruin everything.'

For now, simply establishing a connection with the Sword Duke was enough.

Logan bowed his head, keeping his intentions hidden.

"Hmm..."

Even with his head lowered, he could sense Felix's hesitation.

A brief silence passed—short yet interminable.

Then—

"Huuu... Very well. If it's for my health, I'll accept it with gratitude."

Logan's fist clenched tightly.

'First hurdle cleared.'

They had silently confirmed their mutual awareness of last night's incident—yet neither mentioned it, choosing instead to forge a new bond.

Now, all that remained was to wait for the results.

"If you find it satisfactory after trying it, please let me know. I'd be happy to supply you with as much as you need, regularly and... discreetly."

Felix's expression remained unreadable until the very end.

But...

A messenger from the Sword Duke's household came for Logan the very next day.

Same place, same time, a different day.

The Sword Duke's expression was now radiant—a stark contrast to before.

Just as Logan began to smile at the dramatic shift—

"What do you want?"

Felix cut straight to the point before Logan could even greet him.

"...Pardon?"

"Do you have any wishes? If it's within my power, I'll grant anything."

His voice carried a rare excitement, his gaze almost excessively friendly.

Logan was momentarily taken aback by the unexpected enthusiasm—far exceeding his expectations.

Meanwhile, Felix was still vividly recalling the unfamiliar sensations he'd experienced that morning.

'It works... It still does.'

An Aura User was a master of martial arts and the life force known as Force.

So he knew—with absolute certainty—that this mysterious pill had stimulated that part of him, dormant for decades.

And if this continued, within thirty more doses...

'I can recover!'

His hands trembled uncontrollably each time the thought crossed his mind—which had been dozens of times since morning.

The joy of resolving his oldest regret, the deep-seated anguish buried in his heart.

Before this hope, decades of disciplined composure meant nothing.

He allowed himself to fully embrace the exhilaration, the sheer delight of possibility.

So how could he not feel grateful to the young man before him?

'And he didn't even bring up my mistake...'

A youth who had sought him out on flimsy evidence, yet handled the matter with such tact—even bringing a gift instead of accusations.

Not to mention the swordsmanship he'd witnessed that night was unbelievable for his age.

Truly, a young talent worthy of being the master of a "miracle drug."

"Your generosity overwhelms me. May I ask the reason?"

And on top of his talent, he was humble too.

'Magnificent!'

Felix had always cherished promising youths, and this one delighted him even more.

"Haha. I was too hasty. Very well—the gift you gave me yesterday showed potential to heal an old wound of mine. So I wish to repay you for it."

"The gift you gave me yesterday."

Given the nature of the pill's effects, such words might have been embarrassing to voice aloud—especially for someone of Felix's social standing.

Yet his face was positively glowing as he said it.

Seeing that expression, Logan gained another certainty.

'So the rumors were true after all.'

In truth, Logan had privately looked down on the nobles who raved over Impolik, assuming only those with debauched lifestyles or intentions bought it.

But now, faced with Felix's genuine hope for recovery, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it struck him anew—some might truly need it for treatment.

"Well? What do you desire? Speak frankly."

Snapped out of his musings by Felix's urging, Logan refocused.

'Something the Sword Duke can do...'

The possibilities were endless.

This was nothing short of a windfall, and the thought made Logan's fists clench again.

'But this is too much in exchange for mere Impolik.'

And precisely because of that, he couldn't afford to appear too eager.

Logan steadied his excitement.

What he wanted was a lasting connection with the Sword Duke.

A man who would remain among the highest echelons of nobility even after the civil war.

The kingdom's strongest blade—who, in the war against the Empire, would hold off an army of 100,000 for over a week with just himself and his knights before finally falling.

Logan desired the Sword Duke himself—the kingdom's highest-ranking noble and most powerful Aura User.

So for now...

'Just what I had in mind.'

To forge a lasting bond, sometimes it was better to take a small loss.

Logan presented the request he'd prepared.

"If you insist... might I receive a single, useless swordsmanship manual?"

"...What?"

For a moment, Felix doubted his ears.

"You misspoke, didn't you? You meant intermediate swordsmanship?"

"I said a useless swordsmanship manual. Even a basic one would suffice. Though I'd appreciate it if it bore your seal of authentication."

"...Huh?"

Felix could only stare in bewilderment.

And for good reason.

The gap between basic swordsmanship—for building fundamentals—and intermediate swordsmanship—for Force Users—was immeasurable.

Had Logan asked for the latter, Felix would have understood.

While he couldn't share the secret techniques of the Esperanza Knights, his collection included several decent intermediate styles.

But basic swordsmanship?

'I'd have granted any reasonable request—money, favors—even if I'd have been slightly disappointed...'

Yet this was so far beyond his expectations that it circled back to being amusing.

"...Why?"

"Simply as proof that our house has formed a connection with you."

"Hahaha, a connection, you say?"

To Felix, the notion was equally absurd.

Owning a single manual from him didn't signify any special relationship.

Countless others had learned swordsmanship from the techniques he'd collected or the foundational styles he'd developed.

Even the Grandia Kingdom's standard swordsmanship—the basic training for royal knights—bore his revisions.

If a single manual could claim ties to him, then most knights in the kingdom could call themselves his disciples.

If anything, he now felt a twinge of guilt.

"Then let me give you a proper intermediate manual instead. If you wish, I could even instruct you personally."

It was an unprecedentedly generous offer—one that made Logan's eyes flicker momentarily—but he pressed on.

"Our MacLaine swordsmanship is decent enough for intermediate techniques."

A bluff.

House MacLaine's swordsmanship was a hollow shell of its former glory.

But Felix, misinterpreting his refusal as humility, was even more impressed.

'He turns down personal instruction to remain loyal to his family's style? Admirable!'

"Then how about this—I'll inscribe my personal notes into a basic manual for you. That should suffice as proof of our... connection."

Logan bowed deeply, hiding his triumphant grin.

'Perfect.'

A basic manual bearing the Sword Duke's personal annotations?

That was far more valuable than any intermediate technique.

And more importantly—it was the first step in binding Felix Esperanza to House MacLaine.