Fists Come First in Negotiation
"L-Let go of me first...!"
The old man thrashed in Luke's grip, but he hadn't a prayer of breaking free. Luke's strength was monstrous; the old man's muscles never stood a chance.
Holding him fast, Luke began to speak.
"Sorry, but I can't do that. If I let go, there's no telling what you'd try."
He eased the crushing grip on the man's arm — just a fraction.
"I'll keep holding on for now. The second you try anything funny, that arm comes off."
Having delivered that casual threat, Luke looked the nauseating servant of the evil god dead in the eyes.
"Listen up. You people. Servants of the Bubbling Abyss."
He gave a slight shake to the wooden box in his other hand.
"This. I'd like to know a little about the circumstances."
"Ugh...! Do you think the head of House Serverki will sit still if you do this?!"
The old man's words sounded reasonable enough. Luke snorted.
"Pfft. Before you start throwing threats around, maybe take a look at your own situation? I've got your right arm in my hand right now. You want it to burst?"
"Ugh...!"
As if he could already picture the arm exploding, the old man's face went ashen in an instant.
"Fine...! Fine! Please, just ease up on my arm! I'll tell you everything!"
"That's more like it."
And so Luke heard the situation from the old man — more precisely, from the Bishop of Patina, a follower of the Bubbling Abyss.
"...So. The Duke..."
Luke looked at the bishop with a faintly incredulous expression.
"He regularly offers you Crystals of Emotion?"
"Th-That's right. The head of House Serverki and we have a regular cooperative arrangement. We help each other!"
"Doesn't sound like that's all there is to it..."
Luke called up his veteran-player knowledge.
The Bubbling Abyss. What this thing typically did was plant a seed of hope in those who had fallen into despair. Apparently the Duke had gotten drunk on that so-called hope — addicted to it the way a man gets addicted to a narcotic.
Tsk.
Having roughly grasped the situation, Luke found himself wondering.
...Wait. Then is the Duke... facing some kind of desperate situation?
Hope was needed in moments of despair. Which meant something urgent might have befallen the Duke.
Then something came back to him.
...Come to think of it. The Duke definitely...
Bellemian Serverki. That man had already been dying even before Terre Serverki killed him.
Which meant—
The Duke... did he reach out to this evil god just to stay alive...?
A conclusion of sorts presented itself. The Duke might well be fighting desperately to live. But Luke sensed this wasn't the whole story. The idea that the Duke had simply reached out to these people for that reason alone felt a little thin on evidence.
"Hey. Anything else you know?"
"Nothing! I mean it! We're just middlemen — we receive the Crystals of Emotion on orders from above and pass them along!"
"...Is that so..."
Hmm. Luke figured as much. As for what else he could squeeze out of this guy right now...
Ah. There was one thing.
"Oh. Hey. Come to think of it. You people have that, don't you? Zigmalion's Red Diamond Necklace."
"...What are you talking about?"
Luke didn't hesitate.
Crunch.
"AAAAAAAGH! You bastard! You BASTAAAAARD!!! You actually— my right arm...!"
"Quit the theatrics. You can heal it with your evil god's power anyway. Answer first. If you don't want the left one smashed too, talk."
Luke's face tilted slightly forward as he regarded the bishop.
"Where is it. Hand it over."
"That's absurd! I don't know where you heard that, but this is a blatant affront! I shall send a letter of protest to the head of House Serverki this instant...!"
"Go ahead."
"...What?"
The old man couldn't comprehend it. His own family's patriarch wanted something from them — so why was this boy shaking him down so brazenly?
Luke grinned at him.
"You idiot. For the Duke to publicly punish me, he'd have to publicly reveal to the family that he's in bed with you people. You think he'd do that? Admit he's tangled up with nauseating scum like you?"
"B-But even so. Private retaliation is always...!"
"Ah. I'll handle that, so it's not your concern."
Luke had something to fall back on.
Elise Bystana — the Calamity of Mixed Hearts among the Eight Talents, the Witch of the Forest. She would block something as trivial as private retaliation without breaking a sweat. According to Elise, only the Duke knew she was a witch, so he wouldn't dare move against Luke rashly.
And so what if Elise couldn't currently wield her full power? A tiger with no teeth was still a tiger. The Duke would have to watch her reaction — he wouldn't dare inflict any penalty.
And more than anything, Luke now held one of the Duke's secrets. Would you dare harm someone who held your secret?
"Right. Bill the Duke for the cost?"
Luke smiled and held out his hand.
"Hand it over."
The necklace set with a red diamond caught the occasional sunlight that filtered into this dark city, Patina, and glittered.
"Pretty."
Having confirmed the jewel's gleam, Luke tucked it away at once. Meanwhile, Mikhail and Jack, who had been waiting off to one side, approached.
"Young Master. Did you deliver the goods without trouble?"
"Yeah. Mikhail. Let's go. Bring the kids too."
"Understood, Young Master."
Luke looked at Jack for a moment.
"Jack. You feel like coming along?"
One-Armed Jack. According to Luke's veteran-player knowledge...
This guy. He was a knight, I think... Lost his right arm on the battlefield. Got framed, too, and ended up washing up here.
Given that background, he was fairly righteous, and had a decent sense of common decency. Which meant he'd be useful if Luke brought him along — so Luke had floated the offer...
"I'm sorry, Young Master. I've got family, you see."
"Mm. Shame. If you ever need help, get in touch. Consider it thanks for looking after Nia so well."
"Thank you, Young Master. Please... take good care of Nia. That child, no matter how you look at it, needs a lot of looking after..."
"Don't worry. I'll look after her until she's sick of it. Well then — shall we get out of Patina?"
Luke's gaze turned toward the way out of the city.
"Ueeh..."
"Nia. Still sleepy?"
"Ueeeeh..."
"You've got to be awake by the time we reach the ducal estate, okay? Got it?"
"Ueeeeeh..."
"Ah! For real! Nia, youuuu!!!"
Nia hung over Riana's back, making those nweh-ing sounds. She was innately lacking in stamina and strength, so the aftereffects of debating swords for more than a day still lingered.
That this child had not only won a sword debate against the Empire's finest swordsman, but — given enough power — could split the Empire in two with a single stroke...
Luke let out a wry laugh as he looked at her, then turned to Mikhail.
"Mikhail. What's the score on this mission of mine."
"...I'm just the escort, Young Master."
"I know you'll report everything to the Duke. So out of ten, what's the score."
"...What else would it be but a ten? You didn't just cut down Stygna's troublemakers — you sliced through every last piece of Patina's trash. I'll give it a hundred out of ten."
"That's a good sign. Means I should be able to grab something nice from the family armory."
"Whoa, I'm jealous. I hear the armory's got all kinds of weird stuff in it. Ah, did you know that, Young Master?"
"Can't you drop that 'did you know that' verbal tic of yours."
"Aw, don't be so harsh. Did you know there's a ghost story that sometimes you hear really strange sounds coming from the armory?"
Luke looked at Mikhail with an incredulous expression.
"...What are you talking about?"
"Oh, you don't know? House Serverki's armory. Because of how many different weapons it holds, there's this peculiar ghost story."
Mikhail raised both hands slightly, mimicking a ghost.
"Ohohoho! Do you know how terrifying the armory is, Young Master? I've personally seen the caretaker who manages the place trembling because he hears strange noises from time to time!"
"...What. Just bring a priest over and have him bless the place, and it'd go away. Residual thoughts, a curse, something like that, no? It's an armory — that kind of thing could easily cling to it."
"Amazingly enough, it's not that. It just fizzled out in the end. But there are rumors that people who've gone inside have heard it from time to time. And even... Lady Terre supposedly heard it too?"
"...Sister Terre?"
"Yes. Ask her sometime when you get the chance. Apparently it was especially loud for Lady Terre..."
"Hmm."
Luke had never heard this rumor in his veteran-player knowledge. Probably some odd story that got buried along with House Serverki when it was razed to the ground seven years from now.
...I wonder if Sister Terre is around right now?
Luke had grown fairly close to Terre Serverki over the past three years. That said, he kept well in mind the fact that she would one day become a kinslayer.
"Let's go for now. Mikhail. To the capital."
"Yes, yes. Young Master."
"You've gone and done something rather interesting."
Upon arriving in the capital, Bertora, Luke headed straight for the Duke's office. And there he found Bellemian Serverki, his brow already furrowed.
The Duke set down the report he'd been reading and looked at Luke with piercing clarity.
"It was merely a mission to go to Patina and deliver an item. Yet you not only uncovered their identities — you even discovered the relationship they have with this family."
Clack.
Bellemian rose from his seat, approached, and came to a stop before Luke.
"How intriguing. My youngest."
"...So. Are you going to kill me?"
"What? Hahahahaha!!!"
At Luke's words, Bellemian burst into booming laughter and answered this audacious youngest son.
"As if I would. As if. You know well enough that the head of House Serverki cannot kill his own child out of private desire."
"...You could always kill me quietly, without it showing."
"No. No, my son."
Bellemian's right hand touched Luke's left cheek.
"I do not kill family. My son. Even if I were branded a heretic and put to death for it."
"...Anyone listening would think you cherished your family terribly. Father. When according to the family's customs, all but one of us will die someday."
Luke said it with a snort of a laugh.
"Isn't that right?"
"An interesting thing to say. My son."
The Duke walked back and sat once more in the office chair.
"You're not wrong. Precisely speaking, you're right, my son. Someday my children will all die save one, and the surviving child will show me a blade stained with their siblings' blood."
His eyes narrowed, yet a faint smile remained.
"But will that blood not become nourishment to revive House Serverki? Ah, among the blood piled upon this family is mixed the blood of the five siblings I killed, along with your grandfather's."
Bellemian's face twisted as he answered.
"Getting involved with that nauseating thing was hardly pleasant, but it was for the family's revival. An unavoidable choice. Could you not see this exchange with the heretics as part of the same effort to revive the family?"
"You've got quite a long tongue, Your Grace. All that twisting just to say 'look the other way.'"
"Haha! Caught me, have you. You cheeky youngest. You remind me of my younger brother, back in the day."
Bellemian crossed his legs lightly and regarded Luke.
"As a personal wish, I would like you to survive, Luke. You are the youngest, after all."
He gave a lazy wave of his hand.
"Go on. Keep the matter of Stygna a secret. The item you brought from there, I'll give you as payment for your silence."
"Separate from that, you don't intend to give me a reward for completing the mission?"
"You'll find out naturally once you leave."
With that, Bellemian returned to the report on his desk. Luke looked at him for a moment, then stepped out of the office.
In the now-empty room, Bellemian Serverki muttered to himself.
"...I wonder. Who will survive... Whether a child will emerge who can revive the family. Or one who can embrace it all..."
Stepping out of the office, Luke encountered someone rather awkward — and at the same time, someone he'd grown somewhat closer to of late.
"Hi, Luke."
The calamity who would one day raze the capital of the Repelheim Empire to the ground. The kinslayer of House Serverki, and at the same time one of the Eight Talents — the Calamity of Raging Lightning.
Terre Serverki.