Because He's Handsome
The central road of Dembel City ran straight toward House Yonan.
A middle-aged man in white robes, a staff in his hand, and a young man with a sword at his waist climbed the path in matching stride. The two were clearly speaking, yet not a whisper of their voices—nor even the sound of their footsteps—could be heard.
"We've finally received word."
The young man smiled as his gaze followed the long stretch of wall enclosing the Yonan estate.
"If they'd been any later, I wouldn't have been able to hold back. I'd have burned every last one of those pieces of trash."
The old man's face was kindly, but the words that spilled from his mouth were savage. He dusted off his hands.
"The way those insects who deserve to die come crawling without knowing their place... If it weren't for His orders, I'd have poisoned the well myself."
The young man, too, delivered vicious words through a gentle smile.
"Is there any reason not to? We can do it when we finish the job and leave. You know what my hobby is."
"Of course I do. Planting an even more agonizing disease in the patients you've personally saved."
"That's the flavor that keeps me in this line of work."
The old man rolled up his sleeve and smiled faintly.
"The work will go smoothly, I assume? If they suddenly decide to go to Pedrick, this could get messy."
"Which is why we give them feed."
"Feed, Master?"
The young man tilted his head, not following.
"Until now, not a single person has shown any improvement in treating Encia Yonan. Naturally. Because it isn't a disease, and it isn't a curse."
"Right. We're the only ones who know what it actually is."
"So what happens if, just as they're about to go looking for that madman Pedrick, we arrive and ease the girl's pain?"
"They'll go berserk. They'll throw everything they have at us, begging us to save her however we can!"
"Exactly. They'll abandon the plan to go to Pedrick and offer us anything we want."
The old man nodded. A sinister gleam slid across the faint curl of his lips.
"We stall for time under the pretense of treating the little girl, drain Yonan of its money and artifacts, and plant our people inside. It isn't difficult work."
"So that's why you called it feed!"
"Yes. We tame them slowly, the way you'd feed a dog. Giving them hope, bit by bit."
He spoke of utterly vicious things while wearing a gentle smile.
"We must never finish the treatment. One year. By the time a year has passed, half of Yonan will already be in our hands. Swallowing the rest after that will be as easy as eating cold porridge."
"Not only are you a master of medicine and sorcery, but your schemes are brilliant as well. I respect you, Master!"
"From now on this will be your work, so learn well."
"Yes!"
By the time the conversation stopped, the two of them were standing before the entrance to House Yonan.
"Hmph."
The old man dissolved the energy barrier that had been muffling their sound, put on a kindly smile, and approached the gatekeeper.
"I'm Temus, the healer come to check on Lady Encia's condition."
Raon stared at Encia with a blank look on his face.
What is this?
Suddenly he was handsome?
He prided himself on being able to read most people's minds, but he could not make the slightest sense of whatever was going through this woman's head.
"It's insanely perfect."
Encia looked at Raon with half-lidded eyes, her mouth falling open in a round little O.
"Huh?"
"Wh-what is she..."
"Raon is good-looking, sure, but..."
"Wh-what is going on?"
Sheryl and the other swordsmen gaped, equally stunned.
"Ah, I'm so sorry."
Mishell let out a helpless little laugh and bowed her head.
"It's all right. But if you could explain..."
Raon scratched his cheek. He knew his appearance wasn't bad, but aside from Sylvia and Helen, no one had ever stared at him this blatantly and called him handsome. It was unsettling.
"Do you know what an Aesthetic Sense is?"
Mishell turned away, leaving Encia still unable to tear her eyes off Raon.
"Aesthetic Sense?"
"It means an eye for finding beauty—for discovering it. Our House Yonan has spent generations as artists and artisans, so we're born with an Aesthetic Sense sharper than most people's."
She gestured at the gems placed here and there around the room. They had been given nothing more than a simple cut, yet they radiated a brilliant, dazzling beauty.
"That child in particular has an Aesthetic Sense on a completely different level, even within House Yonan. She knows instinctively how to cut a gem so that it keeps both its natural beauty and its power."
"Ah..."
"That's why every artifact Encia has ever made has been wildly popular. The downside is that her Aesthetic Sense is so strong she sometimes goes days without sleeping or eating, just staring at gems."
So when Mishell had said earlier that Encia's skill was extraordinary, it hadn't merely been a mother bragging about her daughter.
"Then right now..."
"She's looking at you as if you were a gem. And not just any gem—a perfect jewel that's already been through a master's cut..."
"I'm not looking at him as a gem. He is a gem!"
Encia cut in before Mishell could even finish.
"This is insane... Hair color, the look in his eyes, the bridge of his nose. How is there not a single thing out of place?"
"Ugh..."
The longer she went on, the redder Raon's face became.
This is rough.
He'd rather fight the 7th Apostle. Sitting here listening to compliments about his face was making his stomach turn.
An outstanding Aesthetic Sense, is it?
Wrath popped up over the bracelet and lifted his chin.
Hand over your body.
And what are you supposed to be?
This King wishes to show that human This King's beauty. She will faint on the spot, unable to withstand such absolute magnificence. After that, she will spend the rest of her life worshipping This King, and...
Ah. Right.
Once the creature started bragging, there was no end to it, so Raon ignored him.
Hey! Listen! I said listen!
Raon shoved the flailing creature aside and looked back at Encia.
"It's the best. Fucking perfe—ah!"
She had been staring at Raon with glazed eyes, but a groan burst out of her and her face twisted.
"Who are these people?"
Encia lifted her head, her gaze a little more settled. The question she should have asked first was only coming out now—so it really hadn't been a lie that she'd been staring at gems all day.
"These people came from Zieghart to escort you to Letran."
Mishell spoke before Raon could open his mouth.
"Zieghart..."
Encia's blue eyes shone as she looked only at Raon.
"I know how hard the treatments have been for you, but let's get just two more diagnoses. After that, Mom won't say another word."
Mishell clasped her hands and met Encia's eyes.
"Then is he the one who'll be escorting me?"
Encia lifted a trembling hand and pointed at Raon.
"Yes. He and the other Zieghart swordsmen will be going with you."
Mishell nodded and gestured toward the swordsmen behind her.
"Ah! Over there too..."
Encia's eyes sparkled as she looked over Sheryl, Burren, Runaan, and Marta as well. True to the talk of an Aesthetic Sense, she didn't simply like handsome men—she seemed to love beautiful people in general.
But after sweeping over all of them, her gaze locked back onto Raon.
"What's your name, swordsman?"
"Raon Zieghart."
"Raon. Even the name's sick..."
Encia murmured the name as if she were in a trance.
"Will you be going to Letran with us too, Sir Raon?"
"I will."
"Mom. I'll go. I want to go get treated!"
Unlike what he'd heard from Mishell, Encia didn't refuse treatment at all. She shouted that she would go right away.
"Y-you mean it?"
"Yes. But he has to come with us."
Encia lifted her hand with difficulty and pointed at Raon again.
Still better than her refusing.
Raon let out a small sigh. It was embarrassing, but with her this fond of him, getting close would be easy.
"Hah..."
"Ugly people really can't catch a break, can they."
"No kidding. I suddenly feel like dying."
"Are the rivers warm this time of year?"
The swordsmen in the back dragged their hands down their faces and sighed.
"I'm sorry for staring so much. Looking at you, Sir Raon, the inspiration just started coming..."
Encia trembled, her right hand swollen and red.
"Inspiration?"
"Ever since I got like this, I haven't been able to set foot in the workshop or do any work for over a year. I'd given up on everything and was just waiting to die. But looking at your face, Sir Raon, I want to make something even more perfect and beautiful."
She said the things she wanted to create were welling up so fast she could barely sit still.
"I see."
As he'd suspected, she wasn't looking at him as a man. She was looking at his face the way one looked at a work of art. Somehow that was even more embarrassing.
"That went more smoothly than I expected."
Sheryl looked between Raon and Encia and let out a dry laugh.
"It did. I had some idea, but I didn't think she'd take to him this much."
Mishell smiled as well, clearly glad that Encia had found hope again.
"Encia. Before we go see the Saint of Rags, won't you get one more examination?"
"Sir Temus?"
"Yes. He's famous for his medicine too. I've already sent word, so he should be here soon."
"I just want to leave now..."
Encia kept looking at Raon and shook her head.
"Hm."
Raon frowned slightly.
Temus showing up at this exact moment is far too convenient.
As one of Derus Robert's lieutenants, Temus was not a man who moved without purpose. There was definitely a reason he had appeared here.
"Lady Encia."
Raon stepped closer to her.
"Y-yes!"
"Would you mind if I took your pulse?"
"M-my pulse? As much as you want!"
Encia thrust her arm out at once, as if she had nothing to hide.
"You learned medicine too?"
Sheryl came up beside him, her eyes narrowing.
"A little."
"From whom?"
"I heard the theory from Sir Pedrick when I was young, and I also learned from our squad leader when I was a trainee."
"Pedrick I can understand, but Rimer? That lazy slob taught you medicine?"
"Yes. It just sort of happened."
"Looks like that bastard really does care about you."
The moment he mentioned Rimer, Sheryl grimaced and stepped back.
The Rimer card. Works every time.
He'd tried it after watching Rimer stabilize the wounded so quickly, and it had gone through without a hitch. The Rimer pass was always the right answer.
"Excuse me."
"Go ahead."
Raon gently took the wrist Encia had offered him, arm and all. It was so hot he could hardly believe it was human skin.
"Ngh."
He had held it as softly as if he were taking a piece of cloth, and still Encia let out a moan, her shoulder trembling. Even another person's touch seemed to cause her extreme pain.
"Wow..."
Even so, her cheeks flushed red and she never took her eyes off Raon's face.
"That face is insane."
Judging by the awe in her voice, she had no intention of looking away even if it killed her.
A low hum of energy stirred.
Raon sliced the aura of the Cultivation of Ten Thousand Flames as fine and thin as he possibly could, then let it flow into her mana circuits so gently it would not burden her.
"Ngh..."
Even circulating it as slowly as he could, the pain was there. Encia squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip.
I need to finish this as fast as I can.
Raon frowned and examined her condition.
It's bad.
Her mana circuits had narrowed thinner than a strand of hair, and her aura core looked as if it had already melted away. It was the worst physical state he had ever seen—so bad he couldn't understand how she had endured it. He could see why she had wanted to give up on living.
Narrowed mana circuits, and a pain like being stabbed with a knife that never stops. It's the same.
After scanning her body as a whole, he moved up toward her torso. Her temperature was even hotter there, and the mana circuits had closed so tightly there was barely a gap left to see.
"Nnh..."
Her trembling grew stronger. He had to move the aura quickly, and precisely. Focusing the way he did when he lost himself in training, he guided the energy so that it never so much as brushed her mana circuits, and examined the area around her head.
Nothing?
Derus Robert had researched methods of planting sorcery and insects near a human's head. Raon had assumed this case was connected—but he felt nothing.
Maybe I was being too sensitive...
That cursed project, the Hell Worm, had already been scrapped.
The Hell Worm had been a research plan to develop an insect that inflicted continuous pain on a human being. Instead of delivering steady agony, it had snuffed out a person's life in an instant, and the research had been abandoned.
Still. Just in case.
Raon withdrew the Cultivation of Ten Thousand Flames and injected the frost of Glacia. The high-purity cold began to soothe Encia's overheated mana circuits.
"Nngh!"
She felt pain from the frost as well, and a moan larger than before tore out of her. Feeling the tremor through her wrist, Raon bit his lip and climbed toward her torso again.
The instant the frost crossed the mana circuits of her neck and reached her head, a movement so faint it was almost nothing stirred inside her brain.
There it is!
Raon's fist clenched. Deep inside Encia's head, he felt a motion smaller than a grain of millet. From the dense heat rolling off it, there was no doubt—it was the insect they had named the Hell Worm back then.
So the research succeeded.
The moment the insect revealed itself, the heat spreading through her body grew stronger. That thing was the culprit that had reduced Encia's flesh to this state.
These insane bastards!
His teeth ground together. Derus and Temus, who had already given up on being human, had gone so far as to plant a worm inside a person's skull. It was so absurd he nearly lost the flow of his aura.
Now then...
If he could remove it here, that would be the best possible outcome. He was calmly circulating Glacia, trying to push deeper, when—
"Kyaaah!"
Encia couldn't hold it in and screamed. The instant he moved to strike with the frost, the Hell Worm provoked her, inflicting pain even more severe than before.
Where did it—
At the same time, the creature's presence vanished. It seemed to have hidden itself to escape the cold. The movement wasn't mechanical—it was instinctive. Unlike the Rage Worm, this thing appeared to have a will of its own.
Too dangerous.
Forcing it out and destroying it in her current condition was impossible. Her body was at its worst. She wouldn't endure it. She would die.
If it's the Saint, he can raise Encia's physical condition.
Pedrick's acupuncture and pharmacology had been enough to affect even Raon's own body, which carried the curse of the bitter cold. If they used the skills of Pedrick, the Saint of Rags, they could restore Encia's condition.
So we have to go after all.
Raon nodded to himself and released Encia's wrist.
"I'm sorry for causing you pain."
"No. I-I feel so much better now."
Encia fidgeted with both hands, her lips trembling.
"The pain is so much less!"
Just as she said, the heat in her swollen arms and legs had begun, ever so slightly, to recede.
"I-is that true?"
Mishell gasped and hurried over, taking Encia's hand.
"Yes. I'm all right now."
"Encia..."
Tears welled in Mishell's eyes as she held her daughter's hand for what felt like the first time in ages.
It hid.
The Hell Worm had taken fright at Glacia's frost and gone to ground, which was why Encia's condition had improved.
"What did you do?"
Sheryl stepped in beside him and asked.
"There's something near her head that's spreading heat through her body."
"Ah!"
"I-is that true?"
"Really?"
Mishell and Encia whipped their heads around, and the other swordsmen's eyes went round with shock as well.
"Yes. But treating it in her current condition is impossible."
"Why is that?"
"She's been ill for too long. Her body wouldn't hold out through the treatment."
"Th-then what do we do..."
Mishell approached, her hands shaking. It was the gesture of someone who had finally found hope—hope she could see with her own eyes—and would do anything to seize it.
"We have to go to the Saint of Rags in Letran. If Sir Pedrick raises Lady Encia's physical condition, I can treat her."
He had identified what the thing was. If they could just restore her body, he could treat her without fail.
"Is that actually possible?"
"Yes."
Sheryl asked again, and Raon nodded at once.
"I-I'll go!"
Encia raised her hand.
"I want to live now!"
"Ah..."
Mishell looked at her sobbing daughter and bit down hard on her lip.
"All right. Then we'll prepare right away..."
She was about to tell a servant to ready a carriage when—
Knock, knock.
A knock sounded, and Chief Butler Arun entered.
"What is it?"
"Sir Temus, whom you were waiting for, has arrived."
"Ah!"
Mishell clapped her hands.
"Sir Raon. Couldn't we try Sir Temus instead? I've heard his medicine is every bit a match for Sir Pedrick's..."
"No. We need Sir Pedrick for a complete treatment."
Having Temus treat her was no different from handing a fish to a cat—he was the one who had done this in the first place. Far too much of this house would end up in Derus's hands.
"I-I see. Then we have no choice. We'll send him away..."
"No."
Raon shook his head.
"Let's call him in anyway. I'm curious what judgment he'll make."
To be more certain about this affair—and to kill Temus—it was better to summon him.
"Are you sure?"
"It doesn't matter. However..."
Raon raised a finger and pressed it to his lips.
"Until that man finishes his diagnosis, please keep it a secret that I can treat Lady Encia."
Guided by House Yonan's chief butler, Arun, Temus entered Encia's room on the ninth floor. Inside, besides Mishell and Encia, stood twelve swordsmen with blades at their hips.
Zieghart?
Temus's eyes narrowed at the burning sword embroidered on their uniforms.
So they called them to take her to that Pedrick bastard.
He grasped the situation in an instant and offered the swordsmen a faint smile.
I'm sorry, but you people have nothing to do here.
He would show them Encia's condition improving, right here in this room. They would be left with nothing to do but crawl back to that barren land in the north.
"You've come!"
Mishell, standing beside Encia's bed, smiled and approached.
"Forgive me for being late. I was seeing other patients."
"Not at all. We're grateful you came at all."
"Then may I see the patient first?"
Temus pointed at Encia with the air of a man who had no other agenda, who thought of nothing but the patient.
"Of course. Encia, you're all right with that, aren't you?"
"Mm."
Encia seemed to hesitate, then nodded.
Just as I thought.
Temus licked his lips. From the way she trembled in pain at having her pulse taken, and from the way the exposed skin had swollen red, the Hell Worm had clearly taken root properly.
"Then if you'll excuse me."
He took Encia's wrist and spent a long time examining her interior as a whole.
Narrowed mana circuits, a body shaking with pain, a ruined aura core, and...
Last of all, Temus felt the presence of the Hell Worm settled in her head, and nodded. Its movements were a little slow, but it was doing its job.
Sleep for a little while.
He put the Hell Worm into a brief slumber, then released Encia's wrist.
"How is it?"
"Ah—th-the pain is less."
Encia clenched her fists and nodded hard.
"Really?"
"Yes!"
Mishell, startled, came over and took hold of Encia.
"H-how did you do that?"
"Heat has gathered in Lady Encia's body."
Temus went on with a bitter look in his eyes.
"It's in a very dangerous place, which is probably why no one else found it."
"Where is it?"
"Around the upper body. It's not good."
He frowned and clicked his tongue.
"Ah, then the treatment..."
"Fortunately, I believe it's possible. It happens to overlap with an area I've been researching."
"I-is that true?"
"Yes. But it's a symptom I've never seen before, so it will take a fair amount of time and expense. The patient's condition is also extremely poor..."
As he continued, Temus's eyes narrowed.
What is this?
Everyone in Yonan knew that Encia was the child Mishell cherished most. He had just said he could treat that treasure, and yet her reaction was far too calm.
Something's off.
By now she should have been saying she would give him everything—money, people, artifacts, all of it.
"A-at any rate, it will take a great deal of time, but the treatment is certainly possible."
"How long would it take?"
"It's difficult to give you a physical timeframe right now. As I said, it's a symptom I've never encountered..."
He couldn't name an exact duration. He needed to take over the house slowly, step by step.
"Mom. I just want Sir Raon to treat me."
"T-treat you?"
At the word treat, Temus's eyes flew wide.
"The swordsman who came from Zieghart said he could treat this symptom as well."
Mishell pointed to the tall, blond young man standing behind them.
"Th-that's absurd!"
The Rage Worm was one thing. The only people who could remove a Hell Worm were himself and a tiny handful within House Robert. The idea that a brat like that could fix it was nonsense.
"That's ridiculous! He's not even a healer—he's a swordsman! How could he possibly—"
"Sir Raon eased the pain the same way you did, healer."
Encia looked at Raon with glazed eyes.
"You said it would take a long time, so I want Sir Raon to treat me!"
She didn't even glance at Temus. She raised her hand as if the decision had already been made.
Raon? Come to think of it...
He remembered Derus ordering him to investigate Raon Zieghart some time ago. A single house wouldn't reuse the same name. That brat had to be the one.
"Y-you. Do you even know what this symptom is?"
"I don't."
"Then how do you propose to treat it!"
"Didn't you say you didn't know either, healer?"
"Th-that's— I..."
Caught in the board he had laid himself, Temus's lips trembled.
"Besides, I don't intend to treat her alone. I plan to escort Lady Encia to Letran and treat her together with Sir Pedrick."
"That could be dangerous. She's in pain even when she stays still. If you move her, she'll feel pain she can barely endure."
"You needn't worry. I already know how to reduce the pain."
The brat named Raon answered with a calm so complete it was infuriating.
"Even so, you are a swordsman, not a healer!"
"I'm a healer as well. I learned medicine from Sir Pedrick when I was young, and later from my master."
"Y-you learned medicine from the Saint? Then who is your master?"
"Sir Rimer."
"Zieghart's Mad Blade!"
Temus frowned. He had known that elf was skilled at patching people up, but he hadn't known the man had actually studied medicine.
"Even if those two are exceptional, you can hardly have inherited the full measure of their ability. If you treat a patient with half-baked medicine, you'll pay a terrible price."
"Sir Temus. You said a moment ago that heat had gathered around her upper body, didn't you?"
"Th-that's right."
"I've already identified the exact location."
"What..."
"Her head."
Raon smiled faintly and pointed to his own head.
"Urgh..."
The kindly expression Temus had been forcing shattered. He bit his lip.
"M-Matriarch."
Realizing words would not work on Raon, he called to Mishell.
"Please trust me. I have devoted my entire life to medicine. If you move Lady Encia, something terrible will happen before you ever reach the Saint of Rags!"
"Mm, that's..."
"It's my body and my life. I'll decide."
As Mishell bit her lip, wavering, Encia raised her hand.
"I'm going with Sir Raon."
"Wh-what!"
He shouted, agitated by an answer he had not expected at all.
"That boy is a swordsman, and I am a healer who has devoted his entire life to medicine! I'm one of the ten finest physicians on the continent! Why in a life-or-death situation would you choose that swordsman!"
"The reason's simple."
Encia smiled as if the answer had already been decided.
"Because he's handsome."
"Y-you lunatic! If the treatment goes wrong or comes too late, you could die! What kind of deranged thing are you saying!"
"If I get to be with that face, I don't mind dying."
"Kh!"
Veins bulged in a thick cluster across Temus's forehead.