The First Specimen: Belladia Harrington
The assembled retainers stirred uneasily. The fact that the young lady suffered from a malady was a closely guarded secret. Outwardly, she appeared vibrant and full of life.
“…It seems the spell-slingers I summoned to treat her have been spreading the secret far and wide.”
Yet the ever-suspicious lord merely snorted. He had already concluded that the mages previously invited had exposed his daughter’s condition.
“In any case, the oaths of spell-slingers are worth less than dirt.”
“I have no dealings with other mages.”
“Hah! Then how did a mere wanderer learn the nature of my daughter’s illness? Even the royal court and the empire failed to identify it.”
In truth, Tellorian himself was curious. How exactly did he perceive past, present, and future with such clarity? This kind of omniscience deserved to be called a divine authority.
“Lord Harrington. I am a mage.”
“Correct. And I am a count.”
“I understand your distrust of an unknown mage. However, I have been trained to distinguish between what can be resolved and what cannot. The malady afflicting Lady Belladia is something I can resolve.”
The skepticism on the lord’s face eased slightly. The straightforward persuasion had worked.
“So what is your solution?”
“The nature of her condition is not something to discuss in an open hall. I will explain once we move to a location better suited to keeping secrets.”
Only then did the lord’s expression soften. At the very least, this newly invited mage possessed clear judgment regarding both the true nature of his daughter’s illness and the negative impact it could have on House Harrington.
“At least you’re no quack.”
“What became of the quacks who came before me?”
“I had their tongues ripped out, beat them half to death, and threw them out.”
“If I fail to cure Lady Belladia, I will accept the same punishment. Leave it to me.”
A smile spread across the count’s face.
Perhaps this time he had found the real thing.
“What reward do you seek if you succeed?”
“Appoint me court mage.”
“That is only natural. It is not a reward.”
“Then do as I instruct.”
“…Whatever you say?”
The count’s brow furrowed. He had never obeyed even his own father’s teachings, nor had he submitted to the king’s commands. Yet he was expected to follow the orders of some nameless mage?
“That is the condition for curing Lady Belladia.”
“…And if I make the promise only to break it?”
“I will kill you.”
“Ha!”
The count let out a hollow laugh, and the audience chamber froze. The Iron Hammer Count was not a man who tolerated threats. When his father had spoken of stripping him of his succession rights, he had staged a coup. When the king had threatened to seize his territory, he had raised a rebellion.
“Very well!”
Yet he agreed. The rough man who had defied both father and liege lord had fully accepted the threat issued by a wandering mage.
“If you truly cure my daughter, I will grant you anything except three things.”
The count held up three fingers.
“First, you cannot have my wife.”
“Naturally.”
“Second, you cannot have my daughter.”
“Understood.”
“Third, you cannot have my rear.”
“…”
Even after living here for twenty years, Tellorian still struggled to match the sensibilities of this medieval land. Perhaps it was an innate limitation for someone born in the modern era.
“Aside from these, I will do whatever you command. If you tell me to kill, I will kill. If you tell me to serve a demon, I will serve. Will that satisfy you?”
The Iron Hammer Count seemed to have mistaken Tellorian for a sinister spell-slinger, the kind who schemed to overturn the world using forbidden knowledge and secrets.
“It does.”
“No matter what dark plot you drag my house into, I will follow willingly—so long as you can truly cure my daughter…”
…Come to think of it, he was dreaming of becoming a shadow ruler. It was also true that he possessed knowledge forbidden to mankind…
‘As expected, lords have good instincts.’
Experience dealing with people counted for a lot.
Knock, knock.
An elderly maid knocked on the firmly closed door.
“My lady. A new healer has arrived.”
“…Who is it this time?”
When the girl’s irritable voice rang out, the old maid trembled, her face filled with fear.
“…W-well, that is…”
“You may leave.”
“Y-yes…!”
Once the maid had fled in a panic, clutching her skirts, Tellorian opened the door without permission and stepped inside. It was a rude act, and considering he was a male mage, highly inappropriate.
Thud!
“…”
There stood a doll-like beautiful girl. Though her half-naked state in only a corset was exposed, she merely frowned. Tellorian, meanwhile, was looking around her room rather than at her.
“Hmm.”
The room was filled with items befitting a noble lady: a display case of shoes, a wardrobe packed with fine garments, and books that spoke of refinement.
The hunting tools, including the rapier hanging on the wall, differed from common notions of a lady, but given that this was a border territory, it was hardly surprising.
“A convincing disguise, Belladia.”
“How dare a wandering mage speak my name without permission? If I ring the bell, the knights will swarm in and gouge out your eyes and tongue.”
Belladia placed her right hand on the alarm orb resting on the desk. A red light gleamed in her eyes—clear killing intent.
“Put on some clothes and sit. I have instructions to give.”
“I gave you a chance, yet you fail to understand.”
The young lady smiled with delight, her eyes those of a hunter gazing at prey caught in a snare.
“I will peel the skin from your pretty face and—”
“Do you wish for the true culprit behind your mother’s death to be revealed?”
“…!!”
The smile vanished from Belladia’s face, replaced by shock. Her mother’s murder had been a perfect crime. Even her father did not know.
“If you ring the alarm and have me dragged to the torture chamber, I will reveal the location of the murder weapons you hid in the quarry. Is that truly what you want?”
At the mage’s threat, Belladia trembled. He had named the exact hiding place of the tools—something even the high priests of the Sun God’s faith had failed to find.
“Sit.”
“…”
Belladia glanced at the rapier hanging in the closet while her left hand brushed the hidden dagger inside her corset. The opponent was a slender mage. She could slit his throat in an instant.
“Will you try?”
“…”
“If you wish, go ahead. You will have to deal with the consequences.”
The mage’s blue eyes looked down at her steadily. It was deeply uncomfortable. It felt as though he could see straight through to her innermost thoughts.
“…What is your true identity?”
“Use honorifics.”
“…What is your true identity?”
“Someone who knows all your secrets.”
“…How?”
“Because I am a mage.”
“…”
“That is all you need to know about me. Do not ask any further questions.”
Belladia glared at Tellorian with eyes brimming with killing intent, but in the end she shrank back like a frightened wildcat. She could instinctively sense that her opponent was both stronger and cleverer than herself.
“I will keep your secrets buried in the past.”
“…In exchange for conditions, I assume?”
“Correct. From now on, you will follow my guidance.”
“…How can I trust your promise?”
“You do not have to believe it if you do not wish to. However, I will at least promise this: if you do not follow my guidance, I will expose your secrets to the count.”
At Tellorian’s blatant threat, Belladia bit her lip and trembled. She had never once been placed in the position of the weak in her entire life.
“On the other hand, I also bring news you may welcome.”
“…”
“I did not come here like other mages to treat an illness that does not exist or to lift a curse you never received. I came simply to make use of you.”
The count’s closest aides claimed that the madness afflicting the count’s only blood relative was the result of a malady, and that successful treatment would return her to normal.
However.
There was no basis for such a view.
Only hopeful expectation existed.
“…You intend to use me?”
“I wish to become court mage of Harrington County, and the count wishes to be comforted by the belief that your madness has been cured. Therefore, I will make it appear as though your madness has been cured.”
Only then did Belladia begin to listen to Tellorian’s words. Who could have imagined that the beautiful count’s daughter, raised under everyone’s adoration, was in fact a pleasure killer who grew excited by taking lives?
“…I have no intention of changing.”
“I know. Your nature cannot be changed.”
Belladia Harrington would later be known as the Blood Countess, a mid-tier villain. She could be recruited as a companion only for evil-aligned protagonists. Her unique skill, Slaughter Instinct, was so outstanding that she became a B-rank companion when raised as a berserker, and an A-rank companion when trained as an assassin or blood mage.
“But I can develop your talents.”
“…Talents?”
“You possess tremendous talent for killing and injuring people. It would be a waste to squander it on secretly hunting serfs.”
Belladia blinked at Tellorian’s answer. Ever since awakening her instincts, she had always regarded them as a cursed nature that must be hidden.
Yet he called it talent?
A cursed nature?
“In peacetime, killing makes you a murderer. In wartime, it makes you a hero. Any exceptional ability is a talent. What matters is when and where you use it.”
Belladia’s teal eyes sparkled like jewels. At last, she had found interest in following his lessons. But today’s lesson ended here. Only by feeling a sense of longing would she not lose interest in future lessons.
“I will return at the same time tomorrow.”
“I want my lesson right now.”
“Be patient. And I forbid you from killing any domain residents.”
“Then how am I supposed to sate my hunger?”
“Animals. If you are still hungry, then bandits.”
Belladia’s beautiful face twisted with vicious hunger, like a starving beast. It was like being told to eat only vegetables when a lavish feast lay before her.
“What if I refuse to obey?”
“Then break the order.”
“…”
“You are a clever child.”
Belladia was a character with high stats across many fields. Her intelligence was sufficient to become a mage, and her instincts approached those of a beast rather than a human.
“Therefore, there is no reason for you to experience physical punishment. I will see you at tomorrow’s lesson.”
After finishing the first lesson, Tellorian left Belladia’s room. As he descended the castle stairs, he found the fully armed Iron Hammer Count waiting with his knights.
“How did the treatment go, mage?”
“It started well.”
“That alone is insufficient explanation.”
“I will explain in the prison.”
“…The prison?”
“Because no one else will overhear.”
At this, the Iron Hammer Count dismissed his attendants and headed for the dungeon. The jailers who spotted the count bowed their heads and quietly vacated the area.
Creak.
The heavy prison door closed, leaving only the lord and the mage. Even the lantern that had illuminated the darkness had been extinguished.
“…Why did you summon me here?”
“Because I wished to confirm it myself.”
Whoosh!
A flame sprang from Tellorian’s palm, driving back the darkness and revealing the shameful secret of the daughter that the Iron Hammer Count had desperately wished to hide.
“…Is this the sight you wished to see?”
“Let me take a look.”
All the prisoners in the dungeon were dead.
“Whoa.”
“…”
“It is… more severe than I expected.”
Horribly.
Terribly.
New Specimen: Belladia Harrington
Research Log has been updated.