Chapter 312: Inheritance (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 312: Inheritance (1)
Arua Raven stopped by a rather well-known, high-end restaurant in District Seven to meet up with her clanmates for the first time in a long while. Of course, this was her first visit here. If they had set this meeting up at one of the places they normally went to, they would only have ended up more depressed.
"Aren't you going to order?"
"We're not all here yet." At Raven's short response, Abman looked somewhat uneasy.
As an awkward tension began to descend, Ainar spoke. "No, everyone is here. Missha said she's not coming. I hoped she would change her mind, but if she's not here by now, that means she hasn't."
"...I see. Then it's just the three of us." Raven let out an involuntary sigh. As she did, similar sounds came from beside her. All of them were feeling despondent.
"Raven?"
"Yes, Mr. Urikfried?"
"What happened with Erwen? Have you been in touch?"
"I did send her a letter. I told her that we're going to be discussing the loot from the last expedition, and Mr. Yandel's... estate, so we'd like her to come."
In truth, she had only contacted Erwen out of a sense of duty. She didn't expect the elf to come in the slightest, considering how she left them last time.
"Did you receive a reply?"
"No, I didn't. But once we're done dividing the loot, I'm just going to send her share by mail."
"I see."
"Anyway, enough about that elf. I never imagined Miss Karlstein would be absent too. I didn't expect that at all. I thought for sure that the person who was most central to this discussion would come." Raven sighed and looked at Ainar. Then she asked carefully, "How is Miss Karlstein? Is she doing all right?"
Raven was genuinely worried about her. The last time she saw her was during the funeral procession held by the palace. At the time, they were far apart and it wasn't the right moment to have a conversation. She wondered how she was.
"Of course she's not doing well. She's holed up in her room all day and won't even eat properly. I once force-fed her food and she threw it up."
"I see..."
"That's why I don't go home often these days. I think she feels more uncomfortable when I'm there."
"Then where are you staying right now, Miss Ainar?"
"I'm staying in the holy land. But it seems like Missha eats at least the bare minimum when I'm not around. So I just bought a bunch of food for the house."
"That's a relief."
"Raven, what do you think? Is it okay to leave Missha alone like this?"
"That's..." Raven spoke based on her own experience over the past month. "First, I think the reason she can't eat is because of guilt. You know. The act of eating itself... brings discomfort..."
Raven's explanation was vague, which was unlike her, but Ainar and Abman nodded in apparent understanding. "Ah, right."
"I think I get what you mean too. But what does that have to do with anything?"
"...I don't know. How to help Miss Karlstein, that is. I don't think it's a bad idea to give her some time alone, but I also don't know if that's the right answer."
"True, it's not like you have all the answers."
Ainar hadn't said that in a mean way, but Raven felt her chest tighten and a wave of sadness wash over her anyway. Ainar wasn't wrong. If he were here, he definitely would have been able to figure out the best way to handle this.
"Before that, let's order. If we keep loitering like this, we'll get kicked out." Abman must have sensed something was off because he changed the subject.
Raven shifted gears from the heavy conversation to choose something from the menu as well. "Oh, I've never been here before but the food is very good. What are you two doing? Eat."
"Ah, right..."
After the food was served, they chatted as they ate, and then they officially started talking about work.
"There are no issues with the loot settlement. All there was to do was divide everything into five equal parts. The problem is the inheritance... Have you all seen Mr. Yandel's will?"
"Ah, I saw it. Other than the allocation ratio, there was nothing to it. Well, what else would you expect from that guy...?" Abman laughed a bit before trailing off. Then he carefully posed a question. "But isn't it strange?"
"Strange?"
"The ratio. To be honest, I don't understand why he split it like that."
"Ah, about that..."
Raven nodded slightly in sympathy. She had been surprised at first too. She never imagined all of them would get an equal 20 percent share of his inheritance. She thought for sure that most of his wealth would go to Missha or Ainar. However, Bjorn Yandel wasn't that type of person. Because the only thing he'd written down was the ratio and not which exact items would go to whom, they would have to reach an agreement on that amongst themselves, but everyone's share was the same size.
"Since you didn't finish your sentence, I suppose you have a guess?"
Raven smiled sadly. "It's obvious why Mr. Yandel would do that." That clever barbarian warrior had wanted to ensure that even after his death, they wouldn't hurt each other by arguing over money and could continue to support each other and themselves without issue.
"...I don't think we should leave Miss Missha alone like this."
Yes, if he were here, this is what he would have wanted.
***
Three days after my return from the Round Table, Amelia and I put on our full equipment and visited the castle.
We met up with a man at the designated rendezvous point. "Nice to meet you. You're Iron Mask, correct?" His nickname in Noark was Felic Barker, the leader of the clan to which the young Rainwales sisters belonged. There were thirteen or so members in total.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Iron Mask." I also went by Bjon, son of Thor, but I used my new nickname when introducing myself instead. There was nothing particularly wrong with that. In this city, many people used pseudonyms and titles.
"Let's go in."
When we followed the man into the clan base located inside the castle walls, the smell of alcohol immediately hit my nose. Inside the well-decorated interior, rough-looking clan members lounged around, drinking and smoking cigarettes. This wasn't some kind of criminal hideout.
"Would you like to drink?" When we sat on the sofa across from him, Felic Barker offered us alcohol by the bottle.
"No," Amelia said sharply.
I just accepted the bottle, as it'd be weird if both of us refused to drink. We came here to join the clan, after all. In this city, refusing to drink with someone was the same as saying, "I don't trust you."
Click.
Touching the base of the helmet, I raised it to just above my chin and chugged down the drink. Felic Barker grinned. "Good, good. I like it. Ah, but there's one thing I want to ask you. Is that okay?"
"Before that, let's order. If we keep loitering like this, we'll get kicked out." Abman must have sensed something was off because he changed the subject.
Raven shifted gears from the heavy conversation to choose something from the menu as well. "Oh, I've never been here before but the food is very good. What are you two doing? Eat."
"Ah, right..."
After the food was served, they chatted as they ate, and then they officially started talking about work.
"There are no issues with the loot settlement. All there was to do was divide everything into five equal parts. The problem is the inheritance... Have you all seen Mr. Yandel's will?"
"Ah, I saw it. Other than the allocation ratio, there was nothing to it. Well, what else would you expect from that guy...?" Abman laughed a bit before trailing off. Then he carefully posed a question. "But isn't it strange?"
"Strange?"
"The ratio. To be honest, I don't understand why he split it like that."
"Ah, about that..."
Raven nodded slightly in sympathy. She had been surprised at first too. She never imagined all of them would get an equal 20 percent share of his inheritance. She thought for sure that most of his wealth would go to Missha or Ainar. However, Bjorn Yandel wasn't that type of person. Because the only thing he'd written down was the ratio and not which exact items would go to whom, they would have to reach an agreement on that amongst themselves, but everyone's share was the same size.
"Since you didn't finish your sentence, I suppose you have a guess?"
Raven smiled sadly. "It's obvious why Mr. Yandel would do that." That clever barbarian warrior had wanted to ensure that even after his death, they wouldn't hurt each other by arguing over money and could continue to support each other and themselves without issue.
"...I don't think we should leave Miss Missha alone like this."
Yes, if he were here, this is what he would have wanted.
***
Three days after my return from the Round Table, Amelia and I put on our full equipment and visited the castle.
We met up with a man at the designated rendezvous point. "Nice to meet you. You're Iron Mask, correct?" His nickname in Noark was Felic Barker, the leader of the clan to which the young Rainwales sisters belonged. There were thirteen or so members in total.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Iron Mask." I also went by Bjon, son of Thor, but I used my new nickname when introducing myself instead. There was nothing particularly wrong with that. In this city, many people used pseudonyms and titles.
"Let's go in."
When we followed the man into the clan base located inside the castle walls, the smell of alcohol immediately hit my nose. Inside the well-decorated interior, rough-looking clan members lounged around, drinking and smoking cigarettes. This wasn't some kind of criminal hideout.
"Would you like to drink?" When we sat on the sofa across from him, Felic Barker offered us alcohol by the bottle.
"No," Amelia said sharply.
I just accepted the bottle, as it'd be weird if both of us refused to drink. We came here to join the clan, after all. In this city, refusing to drink with someone was the same as saying, "I don't trust you."
Click.
Touching the base of the helmet, I raised it to just above my chin and chugged down the drink. Felic Barker grinned. "Good, good. I like it. Ah, but there's one thing I want to ask you. Is that okay?"
"Ask."
"Why did you choose our clan?"
The answer was simple: because the Rainwales sisters belonged to this clan. This was our best way of ensuring we would have a valid reason to be around them when that incident occurred in five months. We couldn't tell him that, though.
"Emily said you guys made us an offer first."
"But if even half the rumors about you guys are true, you would have had better offers."
I provided the answers I had prepared in advance. "Because having a clan seems more convenient, but if we go somewhere like that, we're bound to get a lower share of the loot."
"You're saying you'd rather have a troll head than an ogre claw."
"Yes, is that a problem?"
Felic Barker stared at me like he was trying to gauge my true intentions, but there was no way that would work. How was he going to look into my eyes when I was wearing an iron helmet over my face?
Just as I was thinking this, the guy suddenly burst into laughter, his eyes sparkling. "Ha! Hahaha!" Unlike Auril, this guy was a joke. His high-and-mighty act was full of nothing but hot air. His tone sounded strangely fake too. "Good, very good."
"What's good about it?"
"It makes me like you guys more."
"Then do we pass?"
"No, not yet." Felic wagged his finger at us slowly like some kind of mafia boss. "We operate on a merit-based system. There are three ranks someone in the clan can have, excluding me, and the share of the loot you get is determined by your rank. But we don't know what you're capable of yet. Have you ever heard of the term 'law of the jungle?'"
"I have."
"Then this will be quick. If you want the Troll's head, take it. And prove yourself. In this world, that is how you stand out—"
Ah, I had been wondering what he was talking about. "Fine."
"Huh...?"
"You're saying you want to know whether the rumors are true or not."
"Yes, but—"
"Then why are you talking so much?" When I stood up from my seat, Felic blinked up at me, startled.
What, you thought if you acted tough I'd get scared? These kinds of cutscenes are meant to be skipped over as quickly as possible.
"Enough talk—tell me what I should do. What, do I need to kill you?"
"...Fights are only allowed between members. And I didn't necessarily mean kill—"
Ah, so boring. "Then who do I need to destroy?" I glanced around at the clan members in the area, at which point one of the big guys who made eye contact with me flinched. "Looks like he's my opponent, then."
"That's right. But the fight doesn't have to be to the death—"
Ugh, stop making so much noise.
When I stomped over with murderous intent, the large man scrambled out of my way and glanced at Felic with the distinct look of someone begging for help.
At that point, Felic came to his senses as well and spoke up. "W-Wait! There's a vacant lot out back."
"Ah, then let's move there."
"A-And special abilities are prohibited during a duel."
Ha, I didn't think there would be a rule banning skills. That meant the fight had to be conducted with just our passives and our default stats. It seemed Noark really was a macho kind of place. "Destroy him without using special abilities... Well, that won't be too difficult." After a moment's thought, I gladly accepted the rules.
"Ask."
"Why did you choose our clan?"
The answer was simple: because the Rainwales sisters belonged to this clan. This was our best way of ensuring we would have a valid reason to be around them when that incident occurred in five months. We couldn't tell him that, though.
"Emily said you guys made us an offer first."
"But if even half the rumors about you guys are true, you would have had better offers."
I provided the answers I had prepared in advance. "Because having a clan seems more convenient, but if we go somewhere like that, we're bound to get a lower share of the loot."
"You're saying you'd rather have a troll head than an ogre claw."
"Yes, is that a problem?"
Felic Barker stared at me like he was trying to gauge my true intentions, but there was no way that would work. How was he going to look into my eyes when I was wearing an iron helmet over my face?
Just as I was thinking this, the guy suddenly burst into laughter, his eyes sparkling. "Ha! Hahaha!" Unlike Auril, this guy was a joke. His high-and-mighty act was full of nothing but hot air. His tone sounded strangely fake too. "Good, very good."
"What's good about it?"
"It makes me like you guys more."
"Then do we pass?"
"No, not yet." Felic wagged his finger at us slowly like some kind of mafia boss. "We operate on a merit-based system. There are three ranks someone in the clan can have, excluding me, and the share of the loot you get is determined by your rank. But we don't know what you're capable of yet. Have you ever heard of the term 'law of the jungle?'"
"I have."
"Then this will be quick. If you want the Troll's head, take it. And prove yourself. In this world, that is how you stand out—"
Ah, I had been wondering what he was talking about. "Fine."
"Huh...?"
"You're saying you want to know whether the rumors are true or not."
"Yes, but—"
"Then why are you talking so much?" When I stood up from my seat, Felic blinked up at me, startled.
What, you thought if you acted tough I'd get scared? These kinds of cutscenes are meant to be skipped over as quickly as possible.
"Enough talk—tell me what I should do. What, do I need to kill you?"
"...Fights are only allowed between members. And I didn't necessarily mean kill—"
Ah, so boring. "Then who do I need to destroy?" I glanced around at the clan members in the area, at which point one of the big guys who made eye contact with me flinched. "Looks like he's my opponent, then."
"That's right. But the fight doesn't have to be to the death—"
Ugh, stop making so much noise.
When I stomped over with murderous intent, the large man scrambled out of my way and glanced at Felic with the distinct look of someone begging for help.
At that point, Felic came to his senses as well and spoke up. "W-Wait! There's a vacant lot out back."
"Ah, then let's move there."
"A-And special abilities are prohibited during a duel."
Ha, I didn't think there would be a rule banning skills. That meant the fight had to be conducted with just our passives and our default stats. It seemed Noark really was a macho kind of place. "Destroy him without using special abilities... Well, that won't be too difficult." After a moment's thought, I gladly accepted the rules.
But what was this? "I'd prefer if no one dies, if possible..." Felic said in a very small voice.
I turned to him in shock. "But then I can't get promoted!"
"All you need is their surrender."
"What? I can get promoted even without killing anyone?" Weren't bloody power struggles the norm in the underground world? Besides, he was the one who brought up the 'law of the jungle' earlier. "What is going on? How does that make sense?" I stared at him like I genuinely didn't understand.
Coincidentally, he was also wearing a similar expression on his face. "You... didn't you say you've been in Noark less than a month?"
"And?"
"Nothing..." Felic was the first to avert his eyes.
***
In a dark room with windows covered by thick cloth, Missha Karlstein lifted her upper body off her mattress, deep bags under her eyes. Another day has begun.
Peeking through the curtain just enough to check that it was daytime, she lay back on the bed again. Sleep did not come, and her unwashed body was still covered in sweat from last night's nightmare. More than that, her stomach was empty to the point of pain, to the point that it ached.
Missha dragged her haggard body out of the room. She stopped in front of Bjorn's room, which hadn't been touched since that day. It almost felt like if she opened that door, she'd find the person she'd been longing for sleeping inside. But she once again couldn't bring herself to check.
Turning away weakly, she headed down the stairs to the first floor, which was as dark as the second. The curtains were drawn because of the people coming to leave flowers.
"She came again..." Missha murmured distantly.
On the table was a note left by Ainar written in crooked letters. It read that the pantry had been refilled and that she should check it out.
Rattle.
Missha checked the pantry. It was mostly filled with things she used to enjoy eating, like rye bread, vegetables often used for cooking, and meat and fruits.
Just looking at it made her nauseous. She couldn't even bear to smell it. The rye bread was Bjorn's favorite, not to mention the meat. Vegetables were something she always kept in stock since Bjorn was a picky eater, meaning she often ended up having to eat his share.
In the end, Missha almost ran away from the pantry, but she was well aware that she still had to eat. If she didn't, her body would fail. Bjorn wouldn't have wanted that.
"Bjorn..."
In the dark kitchen with the lights turned off, she collapsed into a chair and sobbed for a while before finally getting back up again and heading to the pantry. Which was when it happened.
"Oh, you're here. I thought no one would be home." An unfamiliar male voice rang out behind her.
A thief?
Missha grabbed the knife that was on the cutting board and whirled around. The action was so nimble that it was hard to believe it was performed by someone who looked so haggard.
"Woah, woah. That's dangerous." The unidentified man had no trouble grabbing her wrist to subdue her. Even when she strained against his grip, he would not budge. "You're going to start off swinging a knife at me when it's been so long since we last met?"
"So long...?" Missha looked up at the face of her assailant. It was too dark to tell, but it looked somehow familiar.
He was human with skin that was white as snow, and not a single scar could be seen on his body, which seemed to indicate he'd been raised in a wealthy household. His platinum hair, a symbol of nobility, was well-groomed and slicked back.
"Red Cat, are you a player?"
"Hmm? F-Frayer?"
"An evil spirit."
"N-N-No, I'm not!"
Thanks to that distinctly light, yet creepy manner of speech, she immediately remembered where she knew this man from. "You're that—!"
"I guess you remember? I'm Baekho Lee. I'm going to let you go, so stay calm." After introducing himself with a strange-sounding name, the man released her arm as promised. Missha cradled her sore wrist and took a step back. The platinum-haired man then smiled in what he probably felt was a reassuring way. "Don't be so on guard."
Goosebumps crawled down her spine. Unlike his wide, curved lips, his eyes were not smiling at all.
"I just came to ask you a question."
But what was this? "I'd prefer if no one dies, if possible..." Felic said in a very small voice.
I turned to him in shock. "But then I can't get promoted!"
"All you need is their surrender."
"What? I can get promoted even without killing anyone?" Weren't bloody power struggles the norm in the underground world? Besides, he was the one who brought up the 'law of the jungle' earlier. "What is going on? How does that make sense?" I stared at him like I genuinely didn't understand.
Coincidentally, he was also wearing a similar expression on his face. "You... didn't you say you've been in Noark less than a month?"
"And?"
"Nothing..." Felic was the first to avert his eyes.
***
In a dark room with windows covered by thick cloth, Missha Karlstein lifted her upper body off her mattress, deep bags under her eyes. Another day has begun.
Peeking through the curtain just enough to check that it was daytime, she lay back on the bed again. Sleep did not come, and her unwashed body was still covered in sweat from last night's nightmare. More than that, her stomach was empty to the point of pain, to the point that it ached.
Missha dragged her haggard body out of the room. She stopped in front of Bjorn's room, which hadn't been touched since that day. It almost felt like if she opened that door, she'd find the person she'd been longing for sleeping inside. But she once again couldn't bring herself to check.
Turning away weakly, she headed down the stairs to the first floor, which was as dark as the second. The curtains were drawn because of the people coming to leave flowers.
"She came again..." Missha murmured distantly.
On the table was a note left by Ainar written in crooked letters. It read that the pantry had been refilled and that she should check it out.
Rattle.
Missha checked the pantry. It was mostly filled with things she used to enjoy eating, like rye bread, vegetables often used for cooking, and meat and fruits.
Just looking at it made her nauseous. She couldn't even bear to smell it. The rye bread was Bjorn's favorite, not to mention the meat. Vegetables were something she always kept in stock since Bjorn was a picky eater, meaning she often ended up having to eat his share.
In the end, Missha almost ran away from the pantry, but she was well aware that she still had to eat. If she didn't, her body would fail. Bjorn wouldn't have wanted that.
"Bjorn..."
In the dark kitchen with the lights turned off, she collapsed into a chair and sobbed for a while before finally getting back up again and heading to the pantry. Which was when it happened.
"Oh, you're here. I thought no one would be home." An unfamiliar male voice rang out behind her.
A thief?
Missha grabbed the knife that was on the cutting board and whirled around. The action was so nimble that it was hard to believe it was performed by someone who looked so haggard.
"Woah, woah. That's dangerous." The unidentified man had no trouble grabbing her wrist to subdue her. Even when she strained against his grip, he would not budge. "You're going to start off swinging a knife at me when it's been so long since we last met?"
"So long...?" Missha looked up at the face of her assailant. It was too dark to tell, but it looked somehow familiar.
He was human with skin that was white as snow, and not a single scar could be seen on his body, which seemed to indicate he'd been raised in a wealthy household. His platinum hair, a symbol of nobility, was well-groomed and slicked back.
"Red Cat, are you a player?"
"Hmm? F-Frayer?"
"An evil spirit."
"N-N-No, I'm not!"
Thanks to that distinctly light, yet creepy manner of speech, she immediately remembered where she knew this man from. "You're that—!"
"I guess you remember? I'm Baekho Lee. I'm going to let you go, so stay calm." After introducing himself with a strange-sounding name, the man released her arm as promised. Missha cradled her sore wrist and took a step back. The platinum-haired man then smiled in what he probably felt was a reassuring way. "Don't be so on guard."
Goosebumps crawled down her spine. Unlike his wide, curved lips, his eyes were not smiling at all.
"I just came to ask you a question."