Watcher of Winter (2)
“Dinner.”
The meal on the tray was plain enough.
It was the sort of preserved ration commonly eaten in the north—seal meat stored in a frozen natural larder.
To be honest, Lawrence had eaten so much of it lately that it no longer looked all that appealing.
Still, hunger had a way of creeping up on a person.
The moment he saw the food, the appetite he’d forgotten about came surging back.
Lawrence ignored it.
There was no need to eat right away.
What mattered now wasn’t filling his stomach.
“I’d like to hear what happened.”
“It hasn’t even been a day since the messenger left.”
“Does it really take that long? The wall’s right there, isn’t it?”
“A wall is not just a wall. Do you have any idea how vast the wall is where it runs along the Gangama Mountains?”
There was no way Lawrence could know that.
The wall was what protected the northern reaches of the kingdom, after all.
He only knew it was absurdly long.
“It takes at least three months to travel from one end of the wall to the other.”
“……”
Three months. That was far too late.
“Then how many more days will it take?”
“No less than ten. A week at the very fastest.”
“That’s too long.”
Lawrence frowned.
“If waiting bothers you, show your hand. This isn’t just about finding a survivor of the Valentina family, is it? What do you intend to do once you find them?”
“That’s a private matter.”
Unless the worst came to pass, it was a promise he’d made to the Valentina sisters himself.
He had no intention of sharing it with someone who was, for all practical purposes, a stranger.
Seeing his stubborn expression, Killian rose from his seat.
“You’re free to move around this area as you like. But after sunset, keep yourself in check.”
“There’s no need. I’m not going to run.”
“Don’t misunderstand. Once night falls, this place becomes the territory of ice trolls. If you don’t want to die, stay put in the safe house. We’re not your bodyguards.”
“……”
For a moment, Lawrence nearly snapped back that he didn’t need bodyguards at all.
He stopped himself.
It might make him feel better for an instant, but in the end it would only put him at a disadvantage.
* * *
Killian kept his word.
Pete was allowed to meet Lawrence without being treated unfairly.
“You’ve had a hard time, Mr. Pete.”
“Hard time? Nonsense. Mountains are more comfortable to me than home.”
“Though that being said, you seemed to be struggling plenty.”
“No. Now that’s a thing no one should go around saying.”
Amusement colored the confusion in Pete’s voice, and Lawrence laughed.
“Well. The wall is right ahead of you now. After all the twists and turns, I hope you get what you were hoping for once you meet the Watchers.”
“You don’t need to worry about me. And this isn’t much, but I’d like you to accept it.”
He placed a pouch in Pete’s hand, the one missing its thumb.
“Huh? No, no. We didn’t help you expecting something like—”
Pete had barely begun to shake his head when he checked the contents of the pouch and sucked in a breath.
There were two gleaming gold coins inside.
“That’s too much. You may not know this, but the going rate for a guide is only silver….”
“Please get home safely. And I’d appreciate it if you could pass along my thanks to the seer as well. Tell her she helped save my life.”
Pete had more than earned this kind of reward.
Of all people, only Lawrence—who had traveled with him—knew how hard he’d worked.
Frankly speaking, if the Sherpa hadn’t helped him, there would have been no chance at all of climbing the Gangama Mountains in one piece.
“Aye. I’ll do that. Take care of yourself, Lawrence. If you ever finish your business, come visit our village. We’ll be waiting.”
“Yes. I hope you stay in good health too, Mr. Pete.”
Two of the Watchers of Winter escorted Pete as he left the safe house.
Only after their figures dwindled to a dot and vanished did Lawrence turn back.
His body still hadn’t fully recovered.
For the time being, he needed to rest quietly in the safe house.
* * *
It was three days later before he could use magic again.
“Shadow.”
Shadows danced at his fingertips.
The pain that had once risen in his chest was gone.
So was the headache that had clung to him stubbornly ever since the bug had entered his body.
Confirming that his condition had recovered to a satisfactory degree, Lawrence clenched and opened his fist a few times.
The wounds he’d suffered in the fight with the ice troll were no longer a concern; it would hardly be an exaggeration to say they had all but healed completely.
After casting Worm magic on himself, Lawrence stepped outside the safe house.
At last, the moment had come to solve the questions that had filled his head.
“Shadow Light.”
Shadow turned to light.
The instant a sphere of light rose into the air, he felt eyes on him.
It was the Watchers of Winter, keeping watch around the safe house.
There was no need to worry about them.
He already knew they meant him no harm.
What he did find regrettable was that he couldn’t see the white wolf among them.
White Fang had gone with the messenger to the wall.
If the chance ever came, he’d wanted to see it up close….
He put the thought aside.
White Fang wasn’t what mattered right now.
“Shadow Spear.”
Just as he’d expected, he felt nothing.
The strange impulse he’d felt when he killed the wendigo—the sensation that Shadow Spear had reached out a hand to him.
No matter how intently he stared, his neighbor never spoke to him.
Lawrence gripped the spear shaft.
The moment he tried to throw it himself, a tearing pain lanced through his chest.
No, this wasn’t right.
This was no different from the time he’d tried to use it against the ice troll.
He put away Shadow Spear and sat down at the base of a tree.
Why?
What was different now from back then?
Was it simply because his physical condition was worse?
No. That was nonsense.
He thought back to the battle with the ice troll.
He hadn’t been in perfect shape, but there hadn’t been anything wrong with his body.
He hadn’t been plagued by headaches.
His mana hadn’t been the problem, either.
And yet the Shadow Spear he’d actually used had been terrible.
Even the thrown spear had been forced out by sheer brute effort.
Compared to the one he’d used to kill the wendigo, its power had been weak.
If he’d been able to produce the same strength as before, the ice troll wouldn’t have dared even dream of regenerating.
It was fortunate that Laurzara’s teaching had come to mind when it did.
Otherwise, the one who might have collapsed there could have been Lawrence himself.
Of course, that didn’t mean he’d gained nothing.
There was the ability to judge situations accurately.
There was the use of magic in conjunction with the environment.
It was different now from when he’d only had two offensive spells.
The same went for Wind and Water Ball.
And Bind had only failed because of the snow.
If he weren’t standing on a frozen plain, the ways to apply it were endless.
At the very least, considering the northern terrain, it seemed best to make aggressive use of Water Ball.
On the other hand, fire magic wasn’t the answer.
Even Fire Tail had produced little in the way of a proper effect.
The flames created by Fire wavered the moment they were born.
Lawrence rested his chin on his hand.
There was no such thing as perfect magic.
What separated a mage’s skill from mediocrity was accurate judgment based on the situation.
Up until now, he had tried to solve everything with Shadow Spear.
Gnoll Warriors, bugbears.
Wendigos, ice trolls—he had been using it against every monster he encountered.
For the moment, that might have been enough.
After all, despite a few problems along the way, it had been Shadow Spear that saved him from danger.
But if he kept this up, there would be no growth.
He was simply relying on the power he could see for himself.
There was no need even to talk about weaknesses.
After all, once Shadow Spear hit, everything was over.
Why bother using Fire Tail or Water Ball at all?
He’d been thinking about this all wrong. Completely wrong.
If using the right magic for the environment and the situation was what defined a mage’s skill, then the skill Lawrence possessed now was close to the worst possible.
“……”
He needed to think more flexibly.
What magic should he use in what kind of environment?
What spell should he cast in what kind of situation?
He would have to keep asking himself those questions, and answering them, without end.
“Water Ball.”
Lawrence cast Water Ball.
The sphere of water hovering in the air froze in an instant.
The assignment was clear.
He had at least a week until he heard back from the wall.
By then, he had to have the skill of a true mage.
* * *
On the morning of the tenth day since the messenger had been sent to the wall, Killian came to the safe house and said, “Permission has been granted from above.”
“At last. Then I can go to the wall.”
He had been delayed far too long.
Lawrence dismissed the Water Ball he had been controlling.
“No. You’re not going to the wall.”
“What do you mean?”
“You said the reason you were looking for the wall was to find a survivor of the Valentina family.”
“That’s right.”
“Then there’s no need for you to go there.”
“...?”
Lawrence tilted his head.
Killian, seated across from him, took a ring from his pocket.
A ring set with a mana stone that held a silver sheen.
To Lawrence’s surprise, the mana stone was engraved with a hawk soaring through the open sky.
“Let me introduce myself again. Killian Valentina.”
“……”
At the unexpected confession, Lawrence lost his voice.
This man was a survivor of the Valentina family?
Now that he thought about it, there had always been something strangely familiar about his features.
He simply hadn’t recognized him because of the scars.
Killian’s slightly drooping brows were reminiscent of François.
“Why didn’t you tell me the truth from the start?”
“The current me is not Killian Valentina, but Killian of the Watchers of Winter. Those who take up the Watchers of Winter have their past erased. Between an old family and one’s present allegiance, even a fool knows which must come first.”
“Then what did you mean when you said permission had been granted…?”
“I was given permission to tell you the truth.”
It wasn’t Lawrence who had needed permission.
It was Killian.
“Though I have sworn the peace of the north before the eternal heart of winter, I will still fulfill the duties and obligations of a noble house.”
Even if it had fallen, a noble house was still a noble house.
For now, he meant to face Lawrence not as Killian the Watcher, but as Killian of the Valentina family.
Lawrence brought both hands together in front of him.
Noble society began with courtesy and ended with courtesy.
At the very center of it stood the so-called great houses.
He needed to set aside his personal feelings.
“So you were the elder brother of the two.”
“Elder brother?”
“A message from François and Angela. They asked me to tell you they’re both safe and doing well, and not to worry.”
At once, color returned to Killian’s face.
“Both of them are alive?”
“They’re staying at Anatacio Monastery for now.”
“I see. It seems Father Newman kept his promise.”
It was a familiar name.
The chief priest of Anatacio Monastery.
“Is Father Newman well?”
“The abbot has gone up to the Holy See.”
“Still busy with monastery affairs, I see. Good. If Father Newman has been taking good care of those children, then that’s a blessing in misfortune.”
The scarred face softened.
It was the expression of an older brother delighted to hear his younger siblings were safe.
“François mostly spends her time in the convent library.”
“That girl always loved books. It must have been difficult to find any after the family fell. I’m glad the convent has a library.”
“Angela’s doing well too. She’s energetic, and since her older sister is afraid of men, she’s been running around on her own all over the place.”
“Afraid of men? Who is?”
Killian asked back.
“François. When I first met her, she wouldn’t even come out from behind a bookshelf.”
“François is afraid of men?”
“Yes. She is, but… wasn’t she always like that?”
“Not that I remember, at least.”
“……”
So she hadn’t always been that way.
That meant François had started fearing men only after the family fell.
Could something that might have left a trauma have happened when the Valentina family collapsed?
“Angela must have it rough.”
“You needn’t worry. They’re both doing well.”
“Worry? My sisters, who carry the name of the Valentina family, aren’t that fragile.”
As if to say it was nonsense, Killian gave a snort of laughter.
But Lawrence could read the emotion beneath that face.
The feeling of thinking about one’s family was the same for everyone.
It had been the same for Isolde in the Ulbazar Swamp.
And for Morris in Rombamel.
It was no different just because this man was a noble.
The blood flowing through their bodies was all the same red.
“Is that all the message?”
“There’s one more thing.”
Lawrence repeated the words François had spoken.
“She told me not to worry about the family anymore.”
“……”
Killian’s expression changed at those words.
He hesitated several times as if wanting to say something, then let out a sigh.
“The family has already fallen, and yet those children still want to see their final duty through….”
The bitter murmur rang out into the empty room.
“Will you meet them again?”
“I can’t say for certain, but I may run into them at the Holy See.”
“Then I’d like to ask you for another favor.”
After a moment’s thought, Lawrence nodded.
It was a promise he had made to the two of them. If not now, then someday they would meet again.
“Please tell François and Angela not to trouble themselves over the family any longer, and to live however they wish. That is the will of the Valentina family that still lives on. There’s no need to cling to the name of a house that’s already gone. And… tell them that Killian Valentina is dead.”
Killian pushed the ring on the table toward Lawrence.
“There will never be another chance in this life to see those children. I’m sorry I can’t keep my promise, but even if we were to meet again, I would no longer be Killian Valentina. I would only be Killian of the Watchers of Winter.”
The firmness in his voice left no room for argument.
“I understand. I’ll tell them that.”
“One last thing.”
As if this was the matter he most needed to settle.
“What are you to those two?”
Killian looked directly at Lawrence.