I'll Do Anything
"Please spare me! I'll do anything! Please!"
Phalen wrung her palms together like a fly, wailing.
"A servant is fine. A slave is fine! Just let me stay by your side!"
Mark Goetten slammed his forehead into the floor and cried out in a voice of utter gravity.
Wrath scratched his chin and smacked his lips.
"This King cannot quite comprehend this, so humor me. What in the world did you do to those two?"
Other than smacking them yesterday, I didn't do a thing. He hadn't even laid a hand on Phalen. She had fainted all on her own.
Raon looked down at the two of them kneeling and begging, and his brow furrowed slightly.
"Then why are they like that?"
I don't know either.
"Are they trying to lower your guard so they can take your head?"
Possible. But unlikely.
Every version of Phalen he had seen so far was a woman whose pride ran far stronger than her actual ability. Even if she were hatching a plan to strike him down, she was not the type who could drop to her knees and beg.
And besides…
Raon's mouth tightened as he studied her face.
That's the face of someone drowning in terror.
Whatever she had gone through after fainting and coming to, it had been something truly frightening. Nothing else could have carved an expression like that.
"Both of you, come in."
Raon turned back from the doorway and stepped into the room again.
"Th-thank you!"
"Thank you!"
Phalen and Mark Goetten crawled across the threshold on their knees.
"Hah…"
Raon let out a breath of disbelief, shut the door, and sat on the edge of the bed.
"Get up and sit down."
He pulled out chairs and gestured for them to take a seat.
"I-I'm fine like this."
"This is more comfortable for me as well."
Neither of them rose. They only shook their heads, still kneeling.
"What in the…"
Raon rubbed his temple as he looked into their eyes — eyes that had settled into a completely different color from yesterday.
I don't get it.
"This King doesn't get it either."
Get what?
"Why the sudden formal speech? Yesterday you were barking informal at them without a second thought."
Wrath scrunched his nose at him.
They're being polite, so I am too.
"So that's why you're speaking formally? After yesterday's informal?"
Yes.
"In This King's estimation, you are not normal either. You are off by roughly forty-five degrees."
Muttering that he had never imagined humans would be this difficult to understand, Wrath drifted through the air like a curl of tobacco smoke.
Even people of the same kind can barely understand each other. Of course you'd struggle.
Raon closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them and studied Mark. A small, quiet light had taken root in eyes that yesterday had been filled with emptiness and despair.
He'll be easier to talk to.
Better to start with Mark Goetten than with Phalen, who was still crushed under terror.
"Mark Goetten."
"Yes!"
"What do you mean, you want me to take you as a servant?"
"Exactly what I said."
Mark Goetten struck his left breast — the place where his heart sat — with a clenched fist.
"I want to follow you even if it means becoming a servant! Please allow me to serve you as my lord!"
There was a force in his voice that made it hard to believe this was the same man from yesterday.
"And why the sudden change of heart?"
Raon let out a short sigh and rested his arm on his knee. It was so absurd that the strength had gone out of him.
"If you're trying to stand at my back for the sake of revenge, you have the wrong address. I don't trust you."
"That isn't it."
"Then because I belong to House Zieghart…"
"That isn't it either! When I woke up, I didn't even know you were Raon Zieghart."
Mark Goetten shook his head fiercely.
"When I came to after fainting, what hurt more than the jaw you'd struck or the wounds you'd cut was my heart. The words you spoke before you hit me had become an awl, and they were still driving into my chest."
He struck his left breast once more.
"You were right. When I was young I grew drunk on talent and neglected to work. Once I got older, I told myself it was already too late, put off the training I ought to have done, and practiced only what I felt like practicing."
Mark Goetten pressed his bunched fist into the floor.
"I swung my saber telling myself I was working hard, that I was giving it everything I had — but there were no basics in it. No forms. No will."
"Mm…"
His face flushed red with shame, but he kept going.
"Thanks to you, I finally came to my senses — late as it is. If you will only take me, I will even be a slave. I want to attend you at your side and seize this last chance."
He finished and drove his head into the floor. He struck so hard the room rang with it.
It sounds sincere, but…
Raon rubbed the back of his neck and flicked a glance at Wrath.
What did you make of it?
"Those eyes that were twisted as if he were on drugs have been pressed flat as if someone took an iron to them, have they not? That would mean he is sincere."
And if he's been brainwashed?
"That kind of brainwashing is impossible in a single day. There is no lingering scent of such magic either. That said, This King cannot be certain. He may have used an artifact."
Just as Wrath said — it felt genuine, but there was no way to be sure.
Taking a Low-rank Master as a subordinate was a fine opportunity. But a meal that looked that good could still give you a stomachache. He could not decide carelessly.
"I understand why you came. But I cannot simply take you at your word."
"I understand."
Mark Goetten bowed his head. He seemed like a man whose soul had been swapped with yesterday's. He had changed so completely that it was almost harder to trust him.
"I'll think about it. Go back for now."
"Yes, sir."
Mark Goetten nodded and headed for the door — crawling on his knees, the same way he had come in.
"Walk, would you?"
"Yes, sir!"
Only after being told to walk did he get to his feet and go out.
"Huu…"
Raon shook his head and looked at Phalen. She was still gnawing her dry lips like someone locked in a nightmare.
"Phalen Sefia. Why did you come?"
"I-I came to beg your forgiveness."
"Forgiveness for what?"
"For acting so arrogantly yesterday, far beyond my place, and…"
Phalen broke off and swallowed hard. Her eyes darted wildly; she looked as if she were wrestling with herself. In the end her mouth opened again. Whatever terror she was carrying, she had not been able to defeat it.
"F-for trying to have you assassinated…"
"Assassinated?"
Raon's jaw trembled.
What?
What was she thinking?
He had expected her to hire an assassin company. He had never dreamed she would come out and admit she had tried to have him killed. Bringing up assassination was no different from laying her entire hand on the table.
"You tried to have me assassinated?"
"Y-yes…"
Phalen lowered her eyes and nodded. Tears welled thick in them.
"Why would you confess that? If you'd kept it hidden, I never would have known."
"B-because I don't want to die."
"You don't want to die?"
"Yes. I-if I don't tell you the truth, I'll die. No — something worse than death will come…"
"Who's going to kill you?"
"S-someone with a cross in their eyes… w-who was it?"
Phalen stared blankly up into empty air.
Who was that?
She had felt a terror and a pain so vicious she had wanted to bite through her own tongue and die — and yet the only thing she could remember was a red cross hanging in a pair of eyes.
A bone-deep chill stood every hair on her body on end.
There was only one thing she was sure of.
What she had felt through the night had not been a dream. If she did not tell Raon everything and beg his forgiveness, she might spend the rest of her life locked inside that terror and that pain.
"Th-that isn't what's important! Please! Please forgive me!"
Phalen slammed her head down again and rubbed her hands together frantically, insisting that none of the rest of it mattered so long as he forgave her.
"Mm…"
Raon lifted his chin slightly as he regarded her.
"There's a smell on this one."
There is.
Unlike Mark Goetten, who seemed to have come to the realization on his own, something outside Phalen had gotten involved.
Two candidates, maybe…
There were two places he could imagine being behind this.
Either the assassin company she had tried to hire had turned around and put the screws to her — or… the second possibility was one he honestly did not want to picture.
"Where were you going to place the assassination request?"
"A-a place called Black Snake."
"Black Snake…"
Raon's gaze hardened at the name.
That name, here?
Black Snake was one of the external covers used by Shadows, the assassin network Derus had raised in the dark.
You rat.
So he had tried to sink his teeth in here as well.
Derus had apparently intended to plant a foot in the Sepia Merchant Guild's succession fight too. Yonan, the North, and now Sepia. The man's hands were stretching across the entire continent.
"I-it shouldn't have gone through yet! I only told them to confirm the connection. I'll cancel it right—"
"No."
Raon slowly shook his head, cutting her off.
"Carry that request out."
"I— what?"
Phalen jerked her head up in horror. Her eyes swelled as if they might burst.
"You were going to have Dorian assassinated too, weren't you? And the other siblings?"
"Th-that's…"
"Cancel the rest. Leave only me and Dorian."
"Why would you possibly…"
"You don't need to know."
Raon stood and walked over to her. He caught her chin and locked eyes with her.
"You said you'd do anything, didn't you?"
"Ah…"
Phalen's lips trembled. The moment she met those red eyes — burning hotter than the sun — the terror that had crushed her last night came roaring back to life.
No. Something darker still seemed to press down on her entire body. Cold sweat ran down her from head to heel.
"I'll be expecting it."
"Yes…"
Faced with words no different from fastening a slave collar around her throat, all she could do was nod.
After sending the terrified Phalen away, Raon headed for the training ground where they had sparred the day before. It was breakfast hour; the place was empty.
"Th-This King does not wish to go! Go alone!"
Wrath had apparently figured out who they were about to meet. He clung to the training-ground door and whimpered.
I don't want to go either, but we don't have a choice.
If he wanted to get a firm grip on what had happened, he had to see that person.
Raon walked to the tree where he had felt a faint presence yesterday and raised a sound barrier, sealing the space so that nothing would leak out. Then he lifted his gaze.
"You're there, right?"
"Yep!"
A voice so bright it was almost ringing — and a flying squirrel popped out from a branch screened with leaves.
"Gyaaaaah!"
Wrath screamed at the sight of Merlin in a flying squirrel's body.
"The madwoman! It really was the madwoman!"
He trembled, insisting he could not tell the difference between her and an ordinary animal, and hid behind his own shoulder.
"This was your doing, wasn't it?"
"Yep!"
She did not even try to lie. The answer was so cheerfully brisk it was almost offensive.
"Haaaah…"
Raon pressed a hand to his forehead and let out a long breath.
Merlin. Of course it was Merlin.
The flying squirrel he had glimpsed in passing yesterday, and Phalen's terror this morning — the guess those two things had put in his head had landed dead on target.
"Don't worry. I adjusted it so you wouldn't take any harm. No matter what happens, no one will know I was involved."
Merlin fidgeted her little hands and swayed from side to side. Now that he was listening, her voice sat lower than usual, like someone carrying a deep fatigue.
You didn't sense Merlin's presence yesterday?
"I did not! If I had, This King would have woken you on the spot and told you to run!"
Wrath declared that she was a madwoman through and through, and hid himself behind Raon's shoulder.
"How did you get in here?"
"Who on earth would be wary of a cute little squirrel?"
Merlin scrubbed at her head and beamed. He thought this every time, but she was far too good at putting expressions on an animal's face.
"Fine, getting this far I can accept. But the manor has barrier magic."
The headquarters building was layered with detection wards, and at night those wards only grew thicker. He could not see how she had slipped through them.
"I knew you were coming here, so I mapped out every route you would take in advance. Buildings that big always have plenty of holes."
"R-routes…"
Raon rubbed his temple with a fingertip. The idea that she had already charted all his paths sounded far too frightening.
"Even if there are holes, the barrier magic—"
"What barrier magic catches is the mana sleeping deep inside a target's body. This child's body holds only the faintest trace of mana. It can't trigger anything."
Merlin went on in a gentle tone, like a teacher explaining something to a child.
"Then how did you plant the fear in Phalen?"
He had heard about Merlin's magic from Wrath yesterday, and the question still sat unanswered.
"I just cast it like this."
"Impossible!"
Wrath popped up over Raon's shoulder and shook his head violently.
"You yourself just said there is barely any mana! How are you supposed to work magic like that!"
He was right. She had slipped the wards precisely because there was so little mana — so how she had then used magic made no sense at all.
"See, it's here."
Merlin pointed at the flying squirrel's chest.
"Y-you don't mean…"
"That's right. Life force. I put my life force into every child I control, and this time I used it without taking it back. You're so interested in my work. That makes me happy."
The laugh that spilled out of her with those words stood every hair on Raon's body on end. His lips trembling, he looked at Wrath.
"I-it is possible. Converting life force into mana is not a specialty unique to martial artists. But life force is…"
Lifespan.
His heart clenched tight.
The same way Matio, whom he had fought before coming here, had wrung aura up out of his life force, a mage could refine life force into mana of extraordinary purity.
That insane woman had carved away her own years to do this.
"Have you actually lost your mind?"
Raon clutched his head and shouted.
"Oh my! Are you worried about me?"
Merlin hopped down from the tree. She drifted lightly through the air and landed on his still-trembling hand.
"I'm so happy…"
She touched his finger with the squirrel's tiny paws, her cheeks flushing pink.
"Don't worry. If it's for you, I can melt away everything I am."
"That's enough. How much lifespan did you cut?"
"Not much. Thanks to you shattering that child's mental walls, I walked right in without a fight."
Merlin waved a paw, saying it had not even been a month.
"Don't do that kind of thing again. I may need your help someday, but I will not allow you to cut your lifespan for it."
It was not because he was fond of Merlin. If he went on using her like this, he had the ugly feeling he might become the same kind of person Derus had been — the man who had played with his previous life's self like a toy.
Even if she had done it of her own will, he did not want to do anything that resembled Derus.
"So you're thinking of me now."
Merlin's eyes curved into happy crescents.
"If you put it that way, I'll listen. I understand…"
She nodded, a deep smile on her face.
"This is insane."
Raon tipped his head back toward the sky and sighed.
"Th-there is no getting through to her. That one has already gone around the bend twice…"
Wrath, who now seemed to be feeling actual fear, peeked out with nothing but his shaking eyes showing.
"What did you do to Mark Goetten?"
"I didn't do anything to him?"
"What?"
"I didn't have time."
Merlin shrugged, insisting it was the truth.
Then that means…
It had been real.
The man genuinely wanted to follow him.
"Was I helpful?"
Merlin set her paws on her hips and smiled sweetly.
"……"
Raon looked at her and lowered his eyes.
It was helpful, yes.
He had cut Phalen's schemes off before she could work them, and he had even gained a chance to trim the Shadows' strength. It had been a great help. It was still absolutely not something that should have cost lifespan.
"Yes. But you didn't need to step in like this. Never do it again."
"Okay. But…"
"What is it this time?"
"You worrying about me got me so excited the connection is breaking. I think I overdid it a little yesterday."
The flush on Merlin's face deepened, and her voice began to cut in and out.
"This child went through quite a lot. So…"
"I knew this was coming. What do you want this time?"
Raon smiled as he looked at the flying squirrel. He had brought all sorts of food in his subspace pouch. This time, he was confident.
"It wants bird eggs and rotten meat."
"……"
"You heard me? Bird eggs and rotten meat. And it says it doesn't want chicken eggs."
"D-does a squirrel eat that?"
"Squirrels are omnivores, and what they like changes with the season. I'll leave it to you."
With that, she was gone. The moisture that had lingered in the squirrel's eyes vanished in an instant.
"Squeak!"
The flying squirrel stretched out its paws as if demanding food at once.
"Ah. Um. Well…"
Raon checked the subspace pouch. Naturally, there were no eggs in it. And certainly no rotten meat.
"W-what a unique palate."
"Squeak!"
The flying squirrel slapped his palm, noisy and impatient, telling him to hurry up.
"So, uh…"
"Vice Leader!"
While he was still trying to figure out what to do, the training-ground door opened and Dorian came in.
"Father invited us to dinner tonight! It seems like the test you mentioned before—"
"That's not important right now."
Raon shook his head and beckoned Dorian over.
"Do you happen to have any bird eggs? Small ones?"
"For that thing?"
Dorian looked at the flying squirrel sitting on Raon's palm and reached into his belly pouch. A moment later, two tiny, adorable bird eggs sat in his hand.
"Squeak!"
The flying squirrel bounced up and down on Raon's palm in delight.
"And rotten meat, by any chance…"
"It eats that too? How unusual."
Dorian let out a helpless laugh as he looked at the squirrel.
"Well. You wouldn't be carrying that around either."
Raon nodded. Of course he wouldn't. No matter how much space you had, who walked around with rotten meat?
"What kind of rotten meat do you need? Cow? Pig? Chicken? I even have duck."
Dorian pulled a string of plastic-wrapped meats out of the belly pouch one after another.
"Y-you have that?"
"Of course. It's an essential item."
"Why would that be…"
"This is insane…"
Wrath looked back and forth between Dorian and the flying squirrel and shook his head hard.
"Why would you carry rotten meat around!"
He clutched his head and howled.
"Why are there so many lunatics in this era!"
Raon attended the evening banquet Adis had invited them to, with Dorian at his side. They arrived twenty minutes early, and yet the long rectangular table was already mostly full.
Retainers of the heir candidates, then.
Just as he had come along with Dorian, one or two subordinates sat beside each of the other candidates. The light in their eyes said every one of them was someone who could handle themselves.
"That man at the far end is my eldest brother."
Dorian edged a step closer and whispered.
In the seat to the right of the head sat an imposing middle-aged man who looked as if he had come from the beastman tribes. His beard and hair were neatly kept, so that even with his bulk he did not look dull — he gave an impression of cold, hard clarity.
That one I already know.
Jeser Sepia.
Phalen and Dialun had never learned any martial art or magic, but Jeser was a famous name among warriors as well as merchants. He was not an outstanding genius. He was a peculiar case — a man who had become an expert by drowning himself in money.
They said there wasn't an elixir he hadn't eaten.
Raised as a precious treasure by Adis's legal wife, Jeser had never met an elixir he hadn't consumed, and he had taken martial instruction from Master-level experts at every turn. Perhaps because of that, the energy rolling off his body was tremendous.
"……"
Jeser flicked a glance their way and turned his head, as if they were of no interest whatsoever.
Just as Dorian said.
Unlike Phalen and Dialun, who had bullied him, Jeser had ignored Dorian's existence entirely. Watching him treat a younger brother who had come home after nine years like that, it was clear he still did not regard him as family.
That said…
His skill was the real thing.
It was not only his personal martial power. The forces and funds at his disposal were in a different class from anyone else's. He was the highest-ranked and most dangerous figure in the succession race.
"W-welcome."
Phalen rose from her seat and bowed. The expression on her face could not have been more awkward.
"So you came after all. Welcome."
Dialun bowed as well — and the eyes he did it with were cold enough to cut, no matter what his mouth said.
"Ah. Hello."
Dorian stood at the center of the table and bowed his head.
"……"
"Right."
"Y-yeah…"
Jeser did not react at all. Dialun gave a small nod. Phalen's shoulders trembled.
"Shall we?"
Guided by Dorian, Raon took a seat at the far end of the table.
"Huu…"
Dorian wiped the sweat running down his forehead and let out a breath.
"I'm a little nervous."
"You'll be fine."
Raon gave a short laugh and leaned back in his chair.
"The aroma of the finest dishes is vibrating through the air!"
Wrath caught the scent of food drifting from somewhere and stuck his tongue out like a dog.
"Tell them to bring it already! It seems they have land, sea, and sky, all of it!"
It'll come out on its own. Stay still.
Raon shoved Wrath's head down and forced him back into the bracelet — and that was when the dining hall doors swung wide.
A heavy thud rolled through the room.
Adis Sefia entered, followed by five merchant executives. He had never learned martial arts, and yet his presence was so vast it seemed it might reach the ceiling.
Chairs scraped in a ragged chorus as everyone at the table rose and bowed to him.
"We greet the Guild Master!"
"Thank you for accepting the invitation. Sit."
Adis took the head seat with a disciplined posture and nodded.
"Yes."
"Thank you!"
The heir candidates and their retainers all sat.
Adis clapped once. The doors opened again, and servants filed in carrying dishes that steamed in thick, fragrant curls.
"Ohh!"
Wrath drew in a huge breath and grinned.
"It seems they mean to eat first and then begin!"
Looks like it.
Calling for the food first meant he intended to dine before getting to the real business.
"A choice worthy of the father of This King's subordinate!"
Wrath's eyes shone with naked desire as he watched the dishes settle onto the table.
"Start with the truffle soup over there. Warm the belly with a hot soup, and then the real battle—"
"I shall explain why I have summoned everyone while the food is being laid out."
Just as Wrath was cheerfully arranging the order of dishes, Adis's low voice filled the dining hall.
A voice so even it was almost cold. The faint stir that had been running through the hall died into silence.
In this situation?
Easing the tension, then forcing everyone to lock up again. As expected, this was no ordinary man.
Interesting.
Raon looked at Adis with a gleam of rising interest in his eyes.
"Ah…"
Wrath hunched his shoulders like a scolded shrimp and could not tear his gaze from the food.
"Th-the food is getting cold…"