Episode 74

"So, you're saying... this child can see the threads of magic?"

The look in Clayton's eyes when he first heard Victoria's story was unmistakable.

It was the kind of look that said, Don't play games with a child's imagination—or, to put it more bluntly, Stop spouting nonsense.

But after running a few tests, that skepticism quickly turned to astonishment.

"I—I'll take her as my disciple! ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠This... this is an impossible level of talent!"

He began raving about how even the legendary archmages of old couldn't physically see mana with their eyes, how her sensitivity was the highest among any mage he knew, and so on—his face flushed with excitement as he practically shouted in disbelief.

For Logan, who had expected resistance—especially given Victoria was a girl—this reaction was completely unexpected.

Was her talent really that extraordinary?

He chuckled to himself, wondering how much more chaotic things would get if he casually mentioned that he could see them too from up close.

Then, turning to the wide-eyed girl, he spoke again.

"Victoria. Do you really want to learn magic?"

"Um... if it means controlling giant dolls, then yes."

"Why?"

"Well..."

Logan waited patiently, smiling as the girl hesitated.

"...If I have a strong doll, I'll be able to do more things."

Her desire to find something she could accomplish hadn't changed.

It was bittersweet, but also admirable. Logan nodded.

"Good. If that's your reason, then I approve. Clayton, I leave her in your hands."

"No, the honor is mine!"

The sight of the burly, rough-looking middle-aged mage grinning ear-to-ear at a little girl wasn't exactly picturesque, but in the end, both parties were satisfied.

Even Logan, watching from the sidelines.

'The talent of an archmage, huh...'

Even if Clayton's words were exaggerated, there was no doubt Victoria possessed a rare gift.

'Both siblings are prodigies.'

Two children with strikingly unusual appearances, each displaying extraordinary talent in their respective fields.

Now that it had come to this, Logan couldn't help but wonder what kind of bloodline they came from.

But.

'Well, I don't need to know.'

With the Imperial War just seven years away, having another powerful asset—no matter how far Victoria progressed—was anything but a bad thing.

Facing yet another critical juncture, this unexpected stroke of luck lightened Logan's mood, if only a little.

After calming his shocked family and retainers and settling matters concerning Ronian and the siblings, Logan announced his intention to depart immediately for the capital, Grand.

The price of the performance he had staged in Vifros ultimately led him back to the Sword Duke's doorstep.

Even without the Sword Duke's summons, traveling to the capital was necessary to observe the unfolding of this year's most pivotal events.

And there was another important purpose as well.

As always, Logan preferred to travel alone, but this time, he had no choice.

"It would be discourteous to the Sword Duke. At the very least, you must bring a small retinue."

His firmly established reputation as the heir meant nothing against this argument.

And so, against his wishes, Logan found himself saddled with an entourage as he set out on his journey.

"Knight Henderson, leader of the 18th Platoon of the MacLaine Knights! It is an honor to accompany you, Your Highness. I pledge my utmost loyalty!"

Henderson, unable to hide his excitement, shouted loudly before bowing deeply.

The five knights behind him followed suit with equal enthusiasm.

They were overjoyed at the reality of accompanying the Grand Prince on this journey.

'I have to seize this opportunity to become one of His Highness's closest retainers!'

That was the only thought occupying Henderson's mind.

A legendary swordsmanship prodigy, capable of slaying a high-ranking knight single-handedly at just twenty-one years old—the kind of genius that only appeared in myths.

And his talents weren't limited to martial prowess.

Once dismissed as a reckless delinquent, he had bided his time in silence until the family's crisis erupted, revealing his true brilliance as MacLaine's savior.

He had turned a losing war into an overwhelming victory and transformed barren wastelands into fertile plains—a once-in-a-century genius.

The competition among his peers to volunteer for this journey had been fierce.

Though some petty jealousy lingered—since his large frame had made him stand out—Henderson chose to believe his lord had recognized his loyalty.

'I'm serving a man who will become a legend for generations to come. And that legend will say: By his side stood the immortal knight Henderson...'

His heart raced as his delusions spiraled endlessly.

But after leaving MacLaine territory and enduring over half a day of silence, the first order his hero gave was far from what he expected.

"Go gather some firewood."

'There are servants for this kind of thing—why send knights?'

Henderson's pride stung, but—

'The Grand Prince's thoughts are beyond mortal comprehension. No matter how absurd, there is always a reason—so do not question, only serve with loyalty.'

Recalling the Knight Commander's stern warning before departure, Henderson mustered his enthusiasm once more.

"Understood!"

But his forced zeal led to excessive vigor.

CRASH!

A mid-tier knight trained ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in the Iron Blood Sword Technique swinging his blade with full force against a tree.

In the quiet of the night, it was nothing short of calamitous.

"...What the hell is that idiot doing?"

After gathering firewood, Henderson was now wreaking havoc in the forest.

Though the highway leading to the capital meant fewer beasts or monsters, making such a racket at night was nothing but trouble.

Logan stared blankly at the remaining knights, who suddenly found urgent business elsewhere.

"Ah—right. The tents need setting up."

"I'll prepare the fire."

"Dinner duty."

They scattered like startled rabbits, feigning sudden recollection of tasks.

'What kind of...'

Was this the downside of selecting platoon leaders based solely on combat ability?

It seemed the fool had only recruited men as dim-witted as himself.

The sole consolation was that at least one among them was sane.

"Platoon Leader Henderson is strong but... not the brightest. I'll try to mediate. My apologies, Your Highness."

"...Dygrom."

Logan nodded stiffly at the familiar knight's words.

He had more pressing matters to attend to.

Spotting Rick peeking at him from a distance, Logan gestured for him to approach.

"Come here. We need to talk."

"Hehe. Your Highness, do you need something?"

You can't spit in a smiling face, as the saying went.

But seeing Rick rubbing his hands together with that grin made Logan's temper flare.

Words he couldn't bring himself to say in front of his parents spilled out naturally now.

"Why the hell did you follow me?"

A small escort of knights was unavoidable, but he had intended to minimize non-combat personnel.

Yet somehow, this brat had weaseled his way into the group—no doubt after whispering sweet nothings to Logan's parents.

"What do you mean, why? The heir of a noble house can't go gallivanting around without attendants! What would people think of House MacLaine?"

"Hmm... probably that we're broke."

"That's exactly the rumor I'm here to prevent! I'll defend House MacLaine's honor—personally!"

Rick struck a resolute pose, but the lack of sincerity was palpable.

"...You just want to see Grand, don't you?"

"N-No way! My loyalty to you is absolute—"

"I see. Then I suppose my loyal attendant will soon suffer an unfortunate injury and have to return home. Where do you want it? Pick a spot."

Rick immediately flopped face-first into the dirt.

"I really want to go! The capital!"

"Tch... You little—"

"Take me with you! Please! I've never even been to a big city!"

"Life outside the estate is hard—"

"Even the maids—even Mary—won't talk to me anymore! They say I still smell like shit! And whose fault is that?!"

Logan let out a hollow laugh at Rick's indignant wail.

"So that's why you want to go to the capital..."

"I need to find a wife too!"

His eyes burned with such desperate desire that refusal was impossible.

And as if to emphasize the point, another earsplitting battle cry erupted from the forest.

"HYAHHH!"

CRASH!

"ROOOAR!"

"SCREEEECH!"

The distant howls of disturbed creatures echoed in response.

'Ugh. These idiots...'

With so much already on his plate, Logan could feel a headache coming on.

The purpose of this trip to the capital was twofold:

First, to assess whether variables would arise concerning upcoming events.

Second, to establish ties with the Third Prince.

Both were important, but neither posed any direct threat to his safety.

'And I do owe Rick from my past life...'

Because of that, Logan no longer resisted the idea of Rick and the knights accompanying him.

However...

"WOOOOW! It's really Grand!"

"This is amazing!"

"Look at that over there!"

The excited outbursts began even before they entered the capital—and immediately made him regret his decision.

They were acting like country bumpkins in every possible way.

And then there was the optional extra:

"Hey there, miss! A real man among men—none other than Sir Henderson of MacLaine! How about—"

THWACK!

"Guh—what the—"

"You idiot! Get a grip! Are you in heat or something?!"

Just as Logan's expression was darkening, Dygrom stepped in and smacked the oblivious Henderson upside the head.

"They're still young knights who've done nothing but train... so they're a bit... enthusiastic. My apologies."

Dygrom glanced cautiously at Logan.

"It's fine."

The unexpectedly calm response made him sigh in relief.

Of course, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had he known Logan's true thoughts, he might have wept instead.

'The moment we reach the Sword Duke's estate, I'm working them to death. They won't have time to even think about women.'

The number of nameless capital girls who had already fled from his entourage was nearing a hundred.

Rumors spread like wildfire in the capital, and with this level of spectacle, scandal was inevitable.

Suppressing the urge to beat his knights senseless right there in the street, Logan urged his horse forward.

He needed to find the one sane person in this group.

But then—

"MacLaine Special Goods! Imperial Fireworks—Explosive Sale!!"

"Our prince has gone mad! He's ordering us to abandon profitable ventures!!"

"Fire Sale! Burning away merchants' sorrows with flames of discount!"

The supposed sane one was dressed as a clown, dancing around with signs plastered on his back.

"A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity! The must-have accessory of high society—today only, we slash prices! Hey there, young lord! Let me light up your life just like our prince—wait... haha... when did you get here?"

CRACK.

Logan's grip tightened involuntarily.

"I just had to adapt to increased competition... Ugh."

"Stop wobbling. Hold still."

Philip, face planted on the ground with Logan standing on his back, felt utterly wronged.

Even with competitors flooding the market, Imperial Fireworks had already secured its place as the industry leader.

There was no reason to abandon such a lucrative business—so he had simply found the best way to comply with Logan's unreasonable demand.

'The man who used to laugh off any nonsense as long as it made money—how was I supposed to know he'd change like this?'

Philip seethed with indignation.

Of course, Logan had said—

"I told you it was time to change our image. But I never imagined you'd take it this far."

But still.

"Y-You could've at least ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠explained why..."

His employer was always like this.

Never explaining, always demanding blind obedience.

Of course, the results had been good so far, so Philip couldn't complain—but working without clear direction led to disasters like this.

'This isn't my fault! I'm innocent!'

He resolved to fix this flawed work structure.

'I need to make this clear.'

Steeling himself, he spoke firmly.

"I—"

"I told you I'd make you more money, so stop obsessing over Imperial Fireworks' performance bonuses, didn't I?"

"...I'll be extra careful from now on!"

What did work structure matter, anyway?

Money was what counted.

"Good. Now get up. And recite what I told you to remember."

Philip's expression stiffened slightly.

The topic he was about to delve into was heavy just to recall.

After gathering his thoughts, he spoke cautiously.

"Contrary to rumors, there's no bad news concerning the royal family. However, given the king's age, the factional struggles among nobles supporting the princes have intensified. Recently, during the State Council..."

What followed was a longer report than expected.