Reaping What You Sow
So you too….
Benedict, waiting outside the office, could not hide his unease.
Cael had never been one for manners toward others, after all. There was no way a man like that would simply let an insolent visitor walk away unscathed.
“Father, you needn’t worry so much. Brother has changed a great deal from before.”
That was Aren, standing beside him.
“She’s right, dear. Cael may be impulsive, but if you think about it, he’s always been strangely rational underneath.”
Benedict knew that. If he hadn’t believed it, he never would have stepped aside in the first place.
“True. And lately he’s become even more different than before…”
Benedict nodded.
“The boy must have some method of his own if he said he wanted to talk with the guest.”
Scriben chimed in at once.
“Exactly, Baron. Perhaps the man the young master brought along this time is that very method.”
“Come to think of it, Cael hasn’t dragged anyone home for no reason lately.”
“Yes. So let’s wait until the conversation ends. Shall I have Lak and Rami bring tea?”
“Please do.”
And so Benedict waited, savoring the tea Lak and Rami brought him.
Sounds drifted out of the office now and then, but they were so faint that the actual words were impossible to make out.
Then, suddenly, even those faint sounds vanished. Absolute silence settled over the room.
Taking a moment to think things through, I suppose.
Yet ten minutes passed and the silence remained as still as a tomb.
He wanted to press his ear to the door, but dignity forbade it, so he simply kept sipping from an empty teacup.
Scriben, watching him, pushed up his glasses.
“Fifteen hundred gold coins is no light weight. Both sides are bound to sink deep into thought.”
Is that so? Benedict waited a little longer.
But the silence only stretched on, and each time it did, Scriben offered another quiet remark from the side.
“This stillness carries the weight of Young Master Cael’s concern for the people.”
“Indeed. A plague that has tormented the territory for over half a year isn’t something one solves lightly.”
“Perhaps they’re speaking in whispers because institute secrets might leak out.”
Even so, the silence finally dragged past the thirty-minute mark.
The family members who still remembered the Cael of his wastrel days felt a nameless dread creep over them.
“The talk is taking longer than I expected.”
“It is. What on earth could Cael be saying?”
“Hmm. Something does feel off.”
Scriben, watching them, broke out in a cold sweat he carefully hid. He could still vividly recall the first impression Cael had made—walking in with a sword in hand.
“This has gone far enough. I’d best go in myself.”
Benedict started toward the door. Scriben no longer had any way to stop him.
Please let the corpse still have its head attached to its body…
Just as Scriben offered that silent prayer—
“Ah, Baron Luminara.”
Throw stepped out looking perfectly unharmed. The outer coat he wore suggested the conversation had concluded.
Benedict asked,
“You’re leaving?”
“Yes. The young master has already found a way to resolve the plague, you see.”
“Then regarding the deal…?”
“Since someone far more capable than us is already here, there is no longer any need to trade with us. I apologize for the rudeness earlier, Baron Luminara.”
Throw bowed deeply at the waist.
“Oh, it’s fine. This isn’t the first or second time I’ve seen merchants act that way.”
“Haha, I’m sorry for showing such a poor side of myself. I hope you can forgive us…”
“Still, I appreciate that you came all this way. Without my son, we would have owed your side a great debt. Do visit us again.”
Throw’s eyes widened.
“Visit again?”
“Yes. Our territory is primarily agricultural, so further exchanges would be mutually beneficial.”
“…Understood. When the time comes, I’ll bring a gift.”
“Thank you.”
“Then I’ll take my leave…”
Throw dipped his head once more and hurriedly turned to go.
“Wait.”
Cael emerged from the office and called him back.
Throw, looking slightly flustered, asked,
“What is it, Young Master?”
“Stay for a meal. You came a long way; it feels wrong to send you off empty-handed.”
“Ah, please don’t trouble yourself.”
“I’m the one who’s troubled. You look exhausted, so I’ll give you some decent ‘medicine’ as well. We still have things left to discuss.”
“Ah, I see. Then I won’t refuse…”
“Wise choice. I’ll show you the way.”
Cael headed toward the dining hall with Throw. Aren and Lillian watched the amicable scene and smiled with relief.
“It seems our worries were groundless after all.”
“We must have misunderstood for no reason.”
Only then did Benedict allow himself a relaxed smile.
You’ve truly changed, Cael.
The interrogation confirmed that Throw was indeed connected to the Evil Book Society.
According to him, Baron Skallen had commissioned the Flora Research Institute, and Throw had followed orders by spreading the plague through our territory.
His return this time was meant to clap shackles on us under the pretext of curing that same plague.
I asked why the Evil Book Society would go to such lengths—unlike Baron Skallen, they weren’t simply after personal greed—but Throw claimed he knew nothing beyond his orders.
Perhaps, just as I suspected, the Evil Book Society has begun to take notice of me.
In any case, I was glad I had dragged the truth out so quickly.
Some fanatics in the Society never break even under torture, but Throw was no such zealot.
“Haha, Baron. The food is truly delicious.”
“I’m glad it suits your taste.”
After that tearful meal with Throw finally ended, I left for the Flora Research Institute with him in tow.
I told Father we were going merely to express our thanks properly, but the real reason was different.
While riding in the carriage with Bella and Alturo, I issued Throw a warning.
“Listen carefully. I am going to meet the director in order to strike a deal with the Flora Research Institute. Try anything stupid and I’ll let you admire the sky from very high up.”
I hadn’t killed him because he had merely followed orders; the one who gave those orders was still out there.
“If I do as I’m told… can I live?”
“That depends entirely on what you do.”
On the surface Throw looked fine, but the poison inside him had not been fully neutralized. Within a few hours the symptoms would surge again, so Alturo had to keep dosing him with antidote.
“Or would you rather I free you from the pain right now?”
“…I’ll pass.”
“Pity.”
After several days of travel we reached the Flora Research Institute. The building was as large as a decent-sized temple.
Thanks to Throw we entered without incident. The interior that greeted us resembled a vast botanical garden.
“Ohh…”
Sunlight poured through a glass ceiling. Plants of every size and kind sprawled in every direction.
In the center stood a man whose eyes were squinting so tightly they barely opened at all—like a dog’s.
He offered a light, formal greeting when he saw us.
“Ah, you’ve arrived. I am Bloom, director of the Flora Research Institute.”
“Cael Luminara. I was told you have a method to cure the plague in our territory. I found it hard to believe, so I came in person.”
According to Throw, Bloom was an Apostle of the Evil Book Society.
But my purpose here went beyond simply thrashing him, so I treated him like an ordinary man for now.
“I see. When large sums of money are involved, suspicion is only natural. Still, why has the baron’s eldest son come instead of the baron himself?”
“A family head’s backside is meant to stay planted in his chair. Matters like this can safely be left to me.”
“This seems rather too large a transaction to dismiss as ‘matters like this.’”
“It simply means my father trusts me that much.”
“Hmm. I see.”
Bloom’s gaze shifted past me.
“Mr. Throw, wait outside. I will speak with Young Master Cael alone.”
“Yes, Director Bloom.”
Throw bowed and left. I gave Bella and Alturo a look so they would step out as well.
I could leave the rest to them.
“I heard you can prepare the medicine within a week. Is that true?”
“Ah, Mr. Throw said that?”
“He did. He explained it in such detail that I felt compelled to come myself.”
“Haha. He must have wanted the deal with you that badly. Performance bonuses scale with results, after all.”
“I see. So how exactly do you prepare the medicine in a single week? Once I confirm that, I’ll inform my father and have the funds ready at once.”
“Very well.”
Bloom nodded and spread both arms wide.
“We already obtained plague-infected plants with the residents’ permission and examined them here. After determining it was a problem we could solve, we visited Baron Luminara.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“All that remains is to combine the materials we keep in the institute and develop the medicine. The efficacy changes completely depending on the mixture, however, so a skilled specialist is required.”
“I see. Are the plants here part of those materials as well?”
I glanced around at the greenery surrounding us.
“Ah, these are plants I cultivate for personal research.”
“Ohh. They look fascinating.”
I reached toward a flower-like plant. The petals twitched as though alive.
“Please don’t touch them carelessly. Some are poisonous; you could be in danger, Young Master.”
“Ah, my apologies. That was rude of me.”
I withdrew my hand. Bloom smiled sweetly.
“It’s quite all right. Touching something without realizing its value isn’t your fault. After all, the only plants a young master like you would know are oats and wheat.”
…This bastard?
Under normal circumstances I would have been the one who had committed a faux pas, but the man I was speaking to was no ordinary opponent.
“You sound as if you scorn oats and wheat. Yet those are the crops people need most.”
“True enough, but they can be found anywhere, so they lack rarity. These, however, are unique.”
Even though I was a potential client, his tone was sharp. To him, the plants were clearly more precious than any deal with me.
“I see. I failed to recognize how valuable they are.”
“Please be more careful from now on. There’s no benefit if either of us ends up offended, is there?”
“True enough. So the materials are all kept inside this laboratory?”
“Yes. If you wish, you may even return to the territory with us once the medicine is finished.”
“That would be convenient.”
A brief silence hung between us before I spoke again.
“Now I finally understand.”
“Understand what?”
Bloom tilted his head. I ran my fingers along the scabbard at my hip.
“Why someone who loves plants as much as you do would spread a plague across other people’s fields. To you, those fields meant nothing at all.”
“…What are you talking about all of a sudden?”
I reached toward the flower I had touched earlier. Faint demonic energy brushed my fingertips.
When I extended my senses, every surrounding plant carried greater or lesser traces of the same energy.
Bloom had been injecting demonic energy into plants instead of humans.
“Don’t touch—!”
Bloom shrieked like a man having a seizure.
Whoosh!
Holy power and searing rage poured into the blade. The tiny flower was reduced to ash in a single burst of flame.
Bloom’s eternally squinting eyes finally opened, and he fixed me with a frigid stare.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
I looked at the ashes that had once been a flower, then shifted my gaze to Bloom.
“What else? I’m simply returning exactly what you did to our territory.”
“You… don’t tell me…”
“What? Did you actually think I came all this way to make a deal with you?”
I let out a short, dry laugh and drew my sword, letting the blade hang loosely at my side.
“You felt nothing when you did it, but to the people those fields were precious—just as these plants you’ve cultivated with demonic energy are precious to you.”
To those who live by farming, a field is their entire fortune and their entire life.
Months spent tilling, sowing seed, fertilizing, weeding… even a single harvest carries a farmer’s long, patient labor.
And this man had erased all of it in an instant.
“So I want you to feel the exact same thing.”
The emptiness of watching years of effort and devotion vanish in a heartbeat.
The helplessness of being able to do nothing but stand and watch.
Fwoooosh—
A great blaze began to roar thickly along the length of my blade.