The Ambush on Blow

"Nnngh—!!!"

Blow jerked aside on instinct as the blade came whistling in with that nameless cry, and he threw the words back at Marchen behind him.

"Stay back."

"Young Master! I'll take him—please, run...!"

"It's fine. The alley's narrow. Don't even think about stepping out in front."

"But you mustn't! It's dangerous—"

"Uuugh...!"

The hulking figure closed until a single reach of his arm would have done it, and swept the sword in a great arc. The edge was keen enough, but the swing itself was nothing but blunt. Blow had slipped three of those wild cuts when the two of them fell into a brief standoff, and confusion flickered across the thug's face at how calmly he kept evading—nothing like what the man had expected.

Killing him outright feels wrong. So what do I do with him?

In the heartbeat he spent weighing it, the thug's gaze shot to the end of the alley, where Marchen was already running.

I can't let him get to Marchen.

Blow didn't hesitate. He closed half a step and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠drove a fist toward the man's jaw, and the thug, startled out of his skin, stumbled back.

Now.

The moment he saw the man flinch, Blow seized the blade itself in his right hand.

"Young Master!!"

Marchen's scream rang down the alley. The thug went blank—he had never imagined anyone would grab the edge—and in that frozen instant Blow brought his other fist up under the jaw and drove it home. A clear, ringing crack echoed between the walls, and then a sound like someone wringing a pig's neck began to fill the passage.

"Gyaaaaaah—!"

"So. The jaw really was already wrecked."

The pain had gone all the way to the man's legs. He thrashed on the ground, and Blow stepped in and ground a heel down on his hand as if to crush it.

"Young Master! Y-your hand!"

"What about my hand?"

He held out the right hand that had caught the blade for Marchen, who had come running. A long line of crimson mana unfurled across his palm—and then vanished, as if nothing had happened at all.

"The wound... healed?"

"Strictly speaking, it never opened."

"Ah—is this magic too?"

"Put simply, so long as a mage still has mana left, wounds don't come easily. Ask Senior Yulia for the details later."

"Uwaaah—"

The fat man was still screaming. Blow struck the back of his neck hard enough to drop him senseless, then bound his hands and feet tight.

"Even so, that was far too reckless. If the others learn of this..."

"You're right. I burned more mana than I thought. Back in the day, something like this wouldn't even have registered."

"I thought something terrible was going to happen to you..."

Watching Marchen break into a cold sweat, Blow smiled.

"As if a thing like this could be terrible. Let's see... judging by that shattered jaw, this has to be the man Lady Rachel said she broke."

"......"

"First things first. You and I need to settle this here, Marchen."

"Here?"

"We can hardly walk into a coffeehouse carrying this. And the smell."

"You're right. How many days has it been since he washed?"

Only now catching the stench—like something rising out of a gutter—Marchen clapped a hand over her nose and grimaced. A short while later, once the mess was dealt with, Blow let out a thin breath and turned to her.

"Marchen."

"Yes, Young Master."

"I'd like to have lunch with Lord Deschamps. On Saturday."

Marchen startled. A thoughtful look crossed her face, and then she nodded.

At that same hour—after Blow had finished with Karlfeld and run into the thug—Red Forest was otherwise occupied. Cosette, who carried the blue light among the Traffic Light Trio, was helping Liliane, Cunsai's childhood friend, prepare for her examination. Four days from now, next Monday, Caipol Magic School would hold its entrance exam, and the arrangement had been settled not long before.

And so Cosette was reviewing the paper Liliane had handed her. She read it through with care, then shot a firm thumbs-up at Liliane, who stood tense beside her.

"You were so thorough. So diligent! There's nothing for me to touch. I think you've done far better than I would have."

"Ah—really?"

"It's beyond anything I can comment on. When Senior Jane comes up, you should have her look it over once more. Or would you rather go down now?"

"Would that be all right?"

"Yes. It's exactly lunchtime, so you can tell her about this while you're at it."

Cosette's voice was soft as she said it. Liliane nodded and made her way down into the noisy basement, where the beastkin who had come up with her were rushing this way and that.

The space, once a storeroom, now served as the bottle-washing station for the potion subscription. Under Jane's direction the bottles moved smoothly through three separate washes. Liliane watched her—white hair flying—and stopped halfway down the stairs so she wouldn't be in the way. Only after a long while did Jane catch her breath, check the clock, and call out so everyone could hear.

"Everyone, let's eat lunch and then get back to it!"

"Yes!"

The answer came back full of energy. Liliane, who had been staring at her, snapped out of it at those words, and only then did Jane notice her. She tilted her head and came over.

"Liliane? Is something wrong?"

"No, it's nothing..."

"Did you come down because of lunch? I was just about to head up."

"I wanted to show you my paper...!"

"Ah, I'll look it over while we eat. Come up with me."

Liliane followed the bright smile Jane gave her. When they came up, Cosette hurried over and bowed her head.

"Ah, Manager! You've worked hard!"

"Cosette, thank you! We're going to eat and come back, so hold things down until then!"

"Yes."

"And be sure to write down that you worked like this. It goes toward extra pay."

"Haha, it's fine."

"The Young Master is very particular about that sort of thing, so no. Write it down before you go. I can't remember it all myself."

"Yes. I'll note Alice's hours in advance too."

A short while later, past the peak hour, Hills was a little quieter. Jane, having finished the busy stretch, caught her breath and picked up one of Melo's sandwiches.

"Liliane, may I look at the paper while we eat?"

"Ah, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠yes. Thank you. Truly, truly, thank you."

"It's nothing. Sit across from me. I'll look it over quickly and tell you."

Jane rolled her neck this way and that and drew her shoulders up, as if loosening herself. Liliane, watching her, spoke carefully.

"Miss Jane."

"Yes? Did you have a question?"

"You're just so pretty!"

"What?"

"You look exactly like a fairy!"

At the sudden words, a few of the beastkin nearby nodded. Thoroughly embarrassed, Jane cleared her throat and offered Liliane a soft smile.

"Thank you for the compliment, Liliane."

"If I pass this time, I can become your junior, can't I?"

"Yes. Probably?"

"Then that would be wonderful. Really."

Liliane spoke with her hands clasped tight, and Jane was answering that of course she could, when the door opened and Blow stepped inside.

"Having lunch?"

"Yes. We were eating a little off from when the customers come in."

"Is Hans watching the kitchen right now?"

"Yes. As you said, we're only selling potatoes."

"Take Megan away for a single day and the place falls apart. Aside from today, I'd better stay at Hills as much as I can."

"Truly, if the beastkin hadn't been here, it would have been a disaster. The washing takes longer than I thought."

While Megan was down in Blanya, Blow's worries had run deep—he had even considered hiring people on a temporary basis. Fortunately Ichi, one of the beastkin who had sat in on the meeting, had spoken up first and asked that if there was anything they could do, they be allowed to help. They insisted that since they had spare hands before heading back down anyway, they would repay the favor and wouldn't take a single coin. Blow intended to press a thick wad of money into their pockets when they left.

"Thank you, all of you! Eat plenty. All we managed to put out is potatoes, but—"

"The potatoes are delicious too!!"

"They really are so good!!"

Grateful, Blow nodded to them, then speared a potato on his own fork. From the moment he came in, Jane had been watching him closely, and her eyes narrowed.

"Young Master, did something happen?"

"Well. Something did, yeah. I was going to tell you later."

"I want to hear it now. Right now."

Blow nodded and was just opening his mouth when the door of Hills burst open and Yulia rushed in, searching his face.

"Young Master! Are you all right? A knife, in broad daylight!"

"What?"

Jane shot to her feet and checked his clothes. He answered in an easy tone, so she wouldn't be frightened.

"I'm fine. Not so much as a scratch."

"A knife? Young Master!!"

Yulia had already drawn close, her face tight with worry as she looked at Jane. The beastkin who had been eating stopped their forks midair and stared that way. Under everyone's eyes Blow grew a little embarrassed, and he scratched his head as he spoke.

"No, I wasn't cut, exactly. I grabbed the sword, and the mana offset—"

"Young Master! You barely even attend the magic school, you aren't training, and then you go and do something like that!"

"Haha. I was afraid he might go after Marchen. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠And in an alley, it wasn't easy to just throw magic around."

Blow did his best to sound unbothered, but Jane—eyes brimming from the worry—thumped him once in the chest.

"You're laughing? That's too much! Something like that happens and you don't say a word!"

"I was about to. You only just got here, Senior."

"And that man—what is he, exactly!"

"I think he's one of the thugs who showed up in front of Hills the day after the Black Bridge Gathering. Lady Rachel saw him and said it seemed to be the same one."

At the name Rachel, Yulia's brow drew tight.

"Lady Rachel knows that man?"

"Yes. He was one of the ruffians who came near Hills before—the one whose jaw she shattered at the time. From what I hear, he thought he was driven out of his organization because of me, and he's been holding a grudge."

"A man that dangerous, and all she did was break his jaw? Honestly. She doesn't look the careless type, and yet she handles things so sloppily!"

Yulia was shouting before she knew it. Blow held a glass of water out to her.

"Have a drink first. Jane, you too."

"That man, and everyone connected to him—this Yulia Edfolk will not let it stand! And why, Young Master, did you not tell me the moment something like this happened?"

"I'm sorry. I never thought there would be another fool stupid enough to come at me again after running into Lady Rachel."

What followed was a bombardment of Yulia's scolding. Feeling ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠he had worried them for nothing, Blow kept his mouth shut. A little later Jane let out a deep sigh and added her own word.

"Young Master, this really won't do. When you go out, I'll leave Red Forest empty if I have to and follow you."

"Hmm. Of all times for this to happen when I was alone."

"Honestly... haah..."

Jane kept sighing, and Yulia pressed her lips tight and glared at him.

...For a while, I won't be going anywhere alone.

And so Blow spent a long time soothing Jane and Yulia both.

That evening, Björn Arena—where the semifinals were being held—was packed so full it was hard to believe so many people were allowed inside. Not an empty space remained. Blow had taken seats once again with the staff, and with Rachel and Skadi.

"Hey, Blow."

"Yes."

"You're a noble, and you go charging around alone without a shred of fear. What are you going to do if something happens?"

At Rachel's displeased tone, Blow shrugged.

"You're right. I'm sorry."

"Train your magic more, at least. You're weak as anything!"

"Did you hear what it was about?"

"I marched straight over to that One-Armed Jackson. He was deeply aggrieved—said the fellow called Baguette, or whatever his name is, had his jaw broken by me and then got expelled from the organization a day or two later."

"Is that true?"

"Yes. He looked very hard done by."

"Then what happens now? Are you going to hand that Baguette over to the city guard as he is?"

"If it ends with something that small, Yulia will go so far as to 'express her regret.' Before practice earlier, you should have heard how she tore into me. Honestly..."

"Then what are you planning to do?"

"I have a use for him."

"A use?"

"When we hunt magical beasts. Shall I stop there?"

She said no more than that. But Blow had once, by chance, heard a simple account of how those hunts were conducted. When knights went out on expedition, they sometimes ran into beasts never written down in any record—creatures no one had seen. In those cases a vanguard went ahead to learn what traits the beasts possessed, and most of the people sent in that vanguard were fearless mercenary bands blinded by glory or coin, or else prisoners. Not even bait, when it came to hunting magical beasts. Chum.

Recalling the dreadful shapes he had only ever seen as illustrations in books, Blow found himself thinking that if it were him, a clean death would be kinder, and he swallowed against a dry throat.

"You mean to do that only to the one called Barrett?"

"Please. Where's the profit in that? Originally I meant to take the whole organization, but I've decided to be merciful."

"You call that mercy?"

"Just half. Including that one-armed man and the officers. Just half. That's all I'm taking."

In his heart, Blow offered his sincere condolences to One-Armed Jackson and his men, whose faces he had never even seen. A heavy silence fell between them. Then Skadi, who had been watching his mood from the seat beside him, spoke as if whispering.

"But, Blow. I heard you caught a blade with your hand?"

"Yeah."

"Didn't it hurt?"

"You've got offset too, so you know. It didn't really feel like it hurt."

"Hmm. I see. So even something like that can be offset."

"Is that what you were curious about?"

"Yeah. I've never been in a situation like that. Can I see your hand for a second?"

She took his right hand and turned it this way and that, studying it with open fascination. Jane, seated behind them, cut into the conversation as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"Skadi, you're not even worried..."

"There's not a single wound, so why would I be? Do you know how much this one used to charge around? If anything, I was more worried about that Bamette person."

"I hit him in the jaw one more time and he loved it."

"You hit him where it was already broken?"

"Of course."

"Haha! That's so you."

Seeing the color return to Blow's face as he talked with Skadi, Jane's mouth went flat. Rachel, watching them, chuckled.

"Our Lady Skadi has quite the nerve, doesn't she? Not like a certain indigo-haired crybaby."

"I just don't think Blow is the sort to get hit out there."

Blow nodded as if he agreed completely. Jane was puffing her cheeks now, and catching that look, he smoothly turned the talk elsewhere.

"Has Grand Duke Björn gone back down?"

"Yeah. He said he'd finished everything he came to do."

"I was hoping I might get a look at a wyvern."

"Oh!? Blow, you want to ride a wyvern?"

Skadi's eyes sparkled. Blow thought for a moment, then shook his head.

"I'm scared of heights. I can't even use flight magic."

"Come on, no. Once you're riding, you won't believe how fun it is! Later, when we go to the East together, let's ride one!"

"The East. I've really never been."

"The East has so much good liquor!!"

"Right. The Grand Duke's gone back down, so he'll be drowning in drink for a while."

"Ohoho! I'll show them how it's done!"

"You mean you haven't shown them yet?"

Rachel, who had been listening to the two of them, slipped in.

"Drink in moderation, Lady Skadi. I'd like to recover at least the principal on my investment."

"...I pay for everything I drink, you know?"

"Oh? Then that's a relief."

"Do you know how much money I've put into Hills?"

"Oh? I think I've put in more."

Their gazes, locked in a quiet contest of nerves, turned to Jane, who handled the accounts. She had been looking at Skadi the whole time as if she didn't like what she saw, and she answered in a flat voice.

"Honestly, I don't really know."

"Hey! Jane! What do you mean? I went every single day!!"

"Lady Rachel was putting in tens of gold at a time."

"Oh. Skadi, now that I think about it, Lady Rachel also gifted us the cold storage. This won't do."

"......"

At his words Skadi put on a sulky face, then twisted a lock of hair around her fingers for no particular reason.

"Fine."

"Hmm? Fine what."

"I'll prepare one too. A gift."

"That wasn't why I said it."

"Blow, at times like that you just quietly accept. I'm very curious, so when Skadi gives you a gift, you must tell me."

Skadi glared at her, pouted, and turned her head away. Rachel laughed as if she found the girl cute, then leaned in and whispered at Blow's ear.

"Lady Skadi is fun to tease."

"She is."

"She never comes to gatherings, so I wondered if something was wrong with her. She's the sort everyone would like."

"She is like that, yeah. Easygoing."

While the two of them murmured, Skadi spoke up at Blow.

"What are you talking about without me!"

"Mm. We were saying you and I have similar hair colors."

"Wh... what?"

"That's right, Skadi. That's what we were talking about."

Rachel's tone was nothing but playful. Skadi looked back and forth between the two of them, crossed her arms and then her legs for good measure, and turned her gaze out over the arena.

Light flared across the center of the floor, and Aurora, smiling, rose above it. The noisy arena went quiet, and she called out in her usual bright voice.