Chapter 18
Chapter 18
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 18
Chapter Title: Reincarnator's User Manual
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Shiron arrived at the looming gates of Dawn Castle, intentionally keeping a calculated distance from Lucia.
He had fully expected her to come charging after him in a fit of righteous fury, but it seemed the sheer shock of the night's revelations had been too much for her to process.
Even when he ventured a quick glance back, there was no sign of that fiery red hair pursuing him through the snow.
Shiron pushed aside the faint, nagging unease that tried to take root in his mind and approached the massive entrance.
The gate loomed so impossibly high that he could barely see its summit even when he craned his neck to the limit.
It was a structure that radiated a silent, formidable strength, making it clear at a single glance that it would not yield easily to any intruder.
Of course, if just anyone could open it without issue, the gate would be deemed a failure to its very purpose and replaced in no time.
Since he lacked the physical strength to open it himself, Shiron did the only logical thing: he called for assistance.
He began to pound rhythmically on the cold metal surface, the sound echoing like a drumbeat against the silence of the dawn.
Clang— Clang— Clang—
Dawn Castle had no traditional guards stationed at the gate, for the servants within the mansion possessed ears sharp enough to recognize the summons from a mile away.
- Who dares seek entry to this sanctuary at such an ungodly hour!
It had been only a few seconds since his first knock when the response came, and Shiron immediately identified the owner of that lively, spirited voice.
"Encia? Is that you?"
- I know no person by that name! If that is what you are calling me, then you are gravely mistaken.
- I am the third-ranked guardian of Dawn Castle, the one who most despises disorder and chaos!
- I am the swift thunderbolt that hurls divine lightning upon the heads of the wicked!
Even though his voice had clearly exposed his identity, she insisted on maintaining her exaggerated, theatrical denial.
"If you are the fourth, then who exactly are the top three guardians?" Shiron asked with a tired smirk.
- The great heirs of the Prien bloodline, our adorable Young Master and Young Lady... Oh! I nearly forgot the Head Maid.
- Correcting my previous statement—I am the fourth-ranked guardian of this realm!
Rumble— Groooan—
The massive gate groaned in protest as it was slowly forced open with a heavy, grinding sound.
The maid who had thrown it open with both hands, utilizing every ounce of her supernatural strength, was indeed Encia.
The gate parted just wide enough for three people to pass abreast, and Encia wiped the beads of sweat from her forehead before flashing Shiron a bright, mischievous smile.
"I must admit, opening this thing entirely on my own is a monumental task. Whew."
"And why exactly did you come out here by yourself? Surely there are plenty of other strong girls around to help you."
Shiron watched as Encia stood there panting; with over twenty maids in the castle, the fact that she was alone was peculiar.
"...Well, truth be told, I lost a bet. Hehe."
"A bet? What kind of bet could possibly lead to this?"
Encia scratched the back of her head sheepishly, avoiding his gaze as he narrowed his eyes at her in suspicion.
Under the weight of his scrutiny, she hurriedly attempted to change the subject to something less embarrassing.
"Anyway! Why did you bother coming through the main gate at all? You could have easily scaled the walls like you did when you snuck out."
Encia crossed her arms and pouted, her irritation at being left behind earlier finally bubbling to the surface.
As he had suspected, she—and likely every other servant in the mansion—had been fully aware of his nighttime excursion from the very beginning.
Her prickly attitude today was a clear sign that his lack of transparency had managed to ruffle a few feathers among the staff.
But Shiron didn't mind her annoyance; after all, his primary goal had been to lure Lucia into the field, and in that, he had been spectacularly successful.
He rolled his stiff shoulders and offered Encia a weary reply.
"After overdoing it all night in the forest, I simply didn't have the strength left to go scaling any walls."
"Overdoing it? What exactly were you doing out there?"
"The lemonade you gave me ran out halfway through the night; that should give you an idea of the effort involved."
Shiron pulled several empty bottles from his leather bag and handed them over to her as proof of his labors.
Encia stared at the pile of empties in silence before accepting the bag with both hands, her eyes wide with a sudden, growing concern.
'Good grief, he drank all of those in one night...?' she wondered, starting to fear that Shiron might be pushing himself to the point of collapse.
Exhausted from his nocturnal wandering, Shiron trudged down the familiar corridors of the mansion.
He wanted nothing more than to collapse into the soft embrace of his bed and sleep for a week, yet his feet were leading him toward the bathhouse.
He was caked in a layer of sweat, dirt, and—partly for the sake of intimidating Berta—splattered with the dark blood of monsters.
"Young Master?!"
Just as he reached the doors, he ran into a maid who let out a sharp gasp of shock and rushed toward him with wide eyes.
"Are you badly injured? There is blood crusted all over your clothes... Oh no, this is terrible!"
It was Ophelia, the softest-hearted of the castle's servants.
"I'm not hurt, Ophelia; most of this blood isn't even mine, so there's no need for you to worry so much."
She covered her mouth with her delicate hands, her eyes already welling up with tears as she took in his wretched appearance.
The difference between her reaction and Encia's nonchalance was striking, highlighting the unique personalities of the two maids.
Yet, Encia was the outlier in this mansion; most of the maids he had passed on his way in had simply offered a brief, respectful bow before continuing their work.
While he felt no remorse toward Encia for his secret trip, he did feel a twinge of guilt for causing someone as gentle as Ophelia such distress.
'Speaking of which...' he thought, remembered the "guest" he had sent ahead of him.
"More importantly, Ophelia, I have a question for you."
"Yes, Young Master? Anything!"
"Did a black-haired woman with a rather haughty expression show up at the castle a short while ago?"
Ophelia blinked at the question, her expression shifting as she recalled the event.
"Oh! Now that you mention it, an outsider woman did knock on the gate a little while ago."
"And did she give you my name?"
"Yes, she did, exactly as you said." Ophelia offered a bright, somewhat sharp smile.
"The woman reeked of human blood even more than the scent of monsters, and she was covered in her own vomit. Since she used your name, Head Maid Yuma took her away."
"......"
"It must have been so unpleasant for you, hearing your noble name from the mouth of such a filthy woman."
"......Uh, yeah. I suppose so."
Shiron scratched the back of his head, surprised by the harshness in Ophelia's usually gentle voice.
She had treated the guest not like a visitor to be honored, but like a piece of common trash that needed to be discarded.
Feeling a bit embarrassed for the poor Inspector, Shiron rubbed the nape of his neck.
"...Actually, that was on my specific orders."
"I beg your pardon?"
"I told her to give my name to gain entry. I warned her it might cause a bit of a stir, but now I feel a little bad for the reception she got."
"I-I am so sorry! I spoke far too rudely about your guest, Young Master!"
Ophelia squeezed her eyes shut and began to bow repeatedly, nearly dropping the laundry she was clutching to the floor.
"It's fine, Ophelia. I'm sure Yuma is handling her with her usual professional care."
The Yuma Shiron knew from the game was a woman of immense dignity and poise, a legendary figure in her own right.
As long as Berta didn't do anything to threaten Shiron's well-being, she would likely be safe under Yuma's roof.
Shiron cleared his throat, patted Ophelia's shoulder to reassure her, and offered a small smile.
"...Besides, I've decided to think of it as her karma finally catching up with her for her previous behavior."
'Yeah, who told her not to listen to me in the first place?'
The Devil's Castle—that was the exact term written in the mission briefing given to Berta by her superiors.
In a world that had nearly been annihilated by the Demon God, the word "devil" held no positive connotations whatsoever.
Why would the Empire's own institutions label the home of the Prien family—one of the Empire's strongest pillars—with such a sinister name?
Berta was starting to understand why, and the realization kept her body tense even as she sank into the luxury of a warm bathtub.
"Is the water temperature to your liking, guest?"
The source of her tension was the overwhelming presence of the woman currently attending to her every need.
Berta took a slow breath to calm her pounding heart before she offered a careful reply.
"...Yes. The temperature is absolutely perfect, thank you."
She was being incredibly careful not to let her voice waver or make another foolish misjudgment like she had in the forest.
However, Yuma—the devoted overseer of Dawn Castle—could not help but notice her guest's obvious discomfort.
To Yuma, Berta was the very first "friend" Shiron had ever brought home, and the thought filled her heart with a natural, maternal pride.
Looking at Berta, she couldn't help but see the reflection of Shiron's own mysterious, smiling face.
Moreover, Berta was the first true outsider invited into these halls in decades, making her a rare and valuable connection for the family.
Yuma applied a fragrant, scented oil to her hands and began to massage Berta's knotted shoulders with expert care.
"Please, feel free to speak comfortably with me," Yuma whispered softly into the quiet of the bathhouse.
"As someone our Young Master has personally invited, you must be a person of great renown and character."
"There is no need for you to use such formal, guarded speech with a mere servant like me."
"...No, truly. Renown? I am just a humble government employee drawing a modest salary," Berta replied with a wry, self-deprecating smile.
Every time Yuma praised her, Berta was flooded with memories of her own pathetic blunders in front of the two children.
"Hehe. You are far too humble. Few individuals strive so hard for the Empire that the very scent of life clings to them as it does to you."
"In my eyes, you are a true treasure of the Empire."
"...Thank you. I appreciate your kind words more than I can say."
Berta squirmed with a deep sense of unease, even as the sheer ecstasy of Yuma's massage washed over her weary muscles.
It was her first time receiving such treatment during a mission, and the attendant was a beauty so stunning she found it hard to look away.
Even in the capital estates of the highest nobles, Berta had never seen a woman who could compare to this "servant."
If she were pressed, she might compare Yuma to the peerless elven bards she had once seen in the grand plazas of the academic cities.
However, unlike those elves, this woman possessed a pair of horns that exuded an aura of terrifying, ancient power.
If not for those horns constantly reminding her of where she was, she might have actually been able to enjoy this luxury at ease.
As she sat there, Berta found herself once again pondering why the Empire had branded this place as the Devil's Castle.