The Serdian Salute
The day after the article about Blow swept through every corner of Caipol — a Saturday.
In the square near the central market, and in the taverns, there was only one subject on anyone's tongue: Blow Deblique.
Not long ago, to the merchants of that quarter, he had been an ambitious man of business who appeared like a comet and raked in money. Now he had been wholly recast as the perilous, unsettling scoundrel of Blanya, and people were working the gossip mill hard over just how far he had fallen.
"He seemed pleasant enough. I never knew he was that dangerous."
"One-Armed Jackson — Blow beat him himself, didn't he? Honestly, it's hard to believe Lady Rachel did it with her own hands."
"Ah... so he just borrowed her name?"
"Right. Anyway, no matter how I turn it over, he doesn't belong in Caipol. A person's got to be able to sleep at night!"
"The owner of the Drunken Lion was practically spitting at the sound of Blow's name! Said he'd never seen a customer so foul. A real nightmare, that one."
"What is the mayor of Caipol even doing! Leaving a man like that running loose!!"
Three make a tiger. Let three people speak, and they will conjure a tiger that was never there. Far more than three were swelling the tale now, puffing it up and puffing it up again, and if one gathered every word being poured over Blow, he had gone past lord of the underworld and was being treated as a demon king dropped on Caipol.
Among them sat Sullivan, proprietor of Egg Bottles, drinking in a tavern in hopes of taking the measure of the current mood. A deep sigh escaped him, and with it a low groan.
Young master... this may not be easy.
Heavy-hearted, he set out toward Hills and Red Forest to see what had become of them.
Shouts from the street were carrying all the way into the tavern.
"Young Master Blow would never do such a thing!"
The cry was so fierce that the room went quiet, as if someone had thrown water over it. Thinking a fight had broken out, everyone pressed to the windows. At the strangeness of the words, Sullivan paid his tab and stepped outside — and started when he saw who the voice belonged to.
Red Bull, owner of the butcher shop Holy Cow, stood alone against a dozen or so men, snorting steam.
Those facing him were glaring as if they could not understand him at all.
"And how would you know that, Red Bull? Taking his side just because he bought a bit of meat off you."
"From the first time he laid eyes on me until now, the young master has never once talked down to me! A man like that, a scoundrel?"
"Come on, being polite is just something anybody would—"
"A man who treats an unlettered nobody like me that way? There's no chance! Quit talking shit!"
The air was ugly enough that one more word might earn a fist. The people around them lost whatever they had meant to say and looked at one another.
Sullivan, who had come to stand at Red Bull's side before anyone quite noticed, added his voice, clear enough for all of them to hear.
"Red Bull has the right of it. The young master was that sort of man in the past, but these days he has truly come around."
"Sullivan..."
"I will vouch for it myself. The young master takes his ale from Paulos. Would a monastery supply beer to a scoundrel? You all know how difficult it is to bring beer out of Paulos."
At that calm tone, some of those watching began to concede. Most, though, were still tilting their heads as if none of it made sense.
"Isn't that just both sides moving for their own profit?"
"Yes. That is the truth. What I am saying is that, thanks to the young master, I am seeing a great deal of profit — and so is Red Bull here, and so is the monastery."
"That's exactly my point! Aren't you and Red Bull just closing your eyes because of the money coming in? The monastery might be doing the same."
"Hmm, Jones. We may be what we are, but... you would do better to take back what you said about the monastery."
"And what is that supposed to mean?"
"When the young master made his contract at Paulos, the Saintess herself was involved."
"What?"
"I heard it directly from Brother Aubio of Paulos. So, if I may borrow your words for a moment — are you saying the Saintess misjudged a man?"
"No, that's not what I—"
Jones stammered. One wrong step, and the charge could be blasphemy.
Then an old merchant who had been standing beside him came forward toward Sullivan and Red Bull, his face sour.
"Sullivan, even if some people are persuaded by what you're saying now, unless Lady Lisleia herself comes, you will not turn the greater current."
"......"
"There's a great deal of talk about gathering in the square before city hall if the city has given no answer by Sunday. The aim is to drive that Blow out, one way or another."
"Right! If he's that tied up with the monastery, better to pack him off to Roten!"
"If he won't leave! We can't just leave that scoundrel alone — or the restaurant either!"
"That's right! That's right!"
The voices swelled in an instant. Red Bull meant to stand against that frenzy-soaked chorus once more, but Sullivan, sensing the mood had turned dangerous, laid a hand on his shoulder and shook his head.
Rewind from the moment Red Bull and Sullivan stood wearing looks of weary disgust at the crowd.
The night before. Skadi's mansion.
Yulia, who had flown in by flight magic the moment the meeting ended, was exchanging greetings with Blow and Jane in the lobby.
"Senior, you must be tired, coming all this way."
"Of course I had to come, young master. One moment."
With that she stepped closer and looked him over this way and that, checking whether he had been hurt anywhere.
So this is what it would feel like to have an older sister.
A little embarrassed by the thought, Blow whispered to her in a voice that was barely there.
"Senior, let's go to the meeting room first."
"Ah, yes. That would be better."
"Did you come by flight magic?"
"Yes! You know those trousers you made me? They're wonderfully comfortable even when I'm using flight magic."
"Ah. I imagine they would be."
"We could even tell the incoming freshmen that these trousers help when they're learning flight magic. Right, Jane?"
"Yes."
Yulia spoke brightly, trying to lighten the air even a little. Reading her intent, Blow bowed his head to her.
"Thank you, Senior."
"Young master, I'm dependable, aren't I?"
"Yes. Very dependable."
"I'm charging you double for this one later!"
"Please do."
"The urgent matters are all handled, so let's settle on an overall direction."
"Then perhaps only Jane should join us."
"Yes. That would be better. The talk may run rather deep."
Blow nodded as if he agreed — and at that moment Skadi, who had changed into formal dress because Yulia was coming, approached and offered her an awkward courtesy.
"Senior. Thank you for coming such a long way."
"Yes, Skadi. The mansion is wonderful. Truly wonderful."
"Thank you for the compliment. I heard you'll be leaving once the meeting is done."
"Yes. I'll need to handle some work at the hotel tomorrow. It's closer to city hall as well."
"Ah, I see. Shall we go to the reception room? Something light."
"No. We'll use the guest room the young master is staying in as the meeting room."
"What? That room will be too small for you, Senior."
"We have things to discuss closely among ourselves. There must be no servants either."
Startled, Skadi looked from Yulia to Blow and back again, then lifted a hand to her chest and spoke with care.
"Th-then... I can't attend this meeting either?"
"No. I'm afraid that's how it has to be. I'm sorry."
"Bear with us, just this once."
Hearing Blow confirm it as well, Skadi's shoulders slumped.
It's because I'm no help.
Hurt, and gloomy besides, she kept her eyes on the floor. Blow could not help noticing — and still, he could not ask her to come into the room with them. This matter touched Lisleia, and the words regime destroyer had already been spoken. Talk of his secret was bound to surface.
Even so, I can't force it. Later. If I ask Blow later, he'll tell me.
Thinking that, Skadi swallowed a sigh and forced a smile for them.
"All right. Then tell me when you're leaving. I'll stay awake until you go."
"Yes, Lady Skadi. Thank you truly for giving us the space."
"Ha... haha! Come anytime!"
After taking their leave of her, the three moved once more into the guest room. Once inside, guilt toward Skadi held them in a brief silence.
"Young master, will you tell Lady Skadi later, at least?"
"I think I'll need to give that some thought."
"Yes. This is only my feeling, but I don't think everyone around you needs to know. Not everyone can hold the key."
"I'll worry about that later."
As he said, what they had to do now was deal properly with the matter in front of them. Yulia, who understood that very well, clapped once to clear the air and looked from Jane to Blow.
"Then let's begin. First, a statement will go out in my name over the weekend. The article was exaggerated, and though Lady Lisleia is running a little behind her arrival date, there will be no problem."
But Yulia, saying it, knew — and so did Blow. It was far too plain to put out a boiling mood. No one there bothered to press the point. Instead, Blow decided to offer her the thought that had come to him earlier.
"Thank you, Senior. It may be a shallow idea, but I wondered whether Marquis Deschamp might lend us some of his influence."
"Yes. I'll contact Father about that over the weekend. He did visit not long ago, though, so coming again may be difficult for him."
"True. He stayed longer than I expected that time."
"But even if you should end up going to the Imperial Magic Bureau, he will put a great deal of effort behind you. So that you come to no harm."
Now that was welcome news. The Bureau was secretive enough that he had feared what sort of treatment he might receive there. If Deschamp, whose name carried weight in the imperial capital, could settle that, it would truly be a relief.
"Even so, you're judging this situation clearly for what it is — a battle of public opinion."
"Right. They started it that way, so all of this resolves the moment Lady Lisleia appears. Thinking of it like that, I feel I may have reacted too sharply."
"No. Taking a loss is a hundred times, a thousand times better than you being in danger. But still — what could have happened to Lady Lisleia? That she still hasn't arrived... I simply can't understand it."
For some reason, Yulia's voice rang in his ears.
Shall we call it the Eldorado Assembly? What do you think?
Right. At this point, what is there left to hide?
Blow folded his arms and, carefully, spoke to Yulia, who was tilting her head.
"I heard that she has arrived."
"...What?"
"That Lady Lisleia has arrived. I heard it from Instructor Mnevoir."
"Then why is she leaving a mess like this alone?"
Yulia's face hardened at once. Her hand clenched in the cloth of her clothes. Blow gave her a brief account of the conversation he had shared with Mnevoir.
"The instructor said to keep it secret, if at all possible..."
"Yes. So right now, only you and Jane know."
"I'm truly grateful. But on the other hand, I'm not sure."
"Not sure of what?"
"Lady Lisleia may not have arrived at all."
"You mean Instructor Mnevoir lied..."
"It's one possibility. Because if she said it even as a lie, you would be at ease."
At words he had never considered, Blow felt a cold sweat break along his spine.
"That's chilling."
"Yes. That's why I'll move on the assumption that Lady Lisleia has not arrived."
"If you move that way, Senior, I can rest easy."
"I'm a coward. I always try to think of the worst move."
Yulia said it quite seriously. Blow nodded to her, let out a faint sigh, and opened his mouth again.
"Then, in that spirit, I have one request for each of you."
"What? What is it?"
"If I have to leave Caipol, there are things I would like the two of you to take on."
"Young master..."
"Young master..."
Yulia bit her lower lip. Jane's face clouded with worry. Forcing a smile for them, Blow turned his gaze to Yulia first.
"If I go to the imperial capital, I would like you to take over the management of Hills and Red Forest."
"...Yes."
"R-Red Forest too?"
Jane asked it in surprise. The shop was in her name. Blow set a hand on her shoulder and answered in a deliberately gentle tone.
"If I go to the capital, I want you to come with me and handle things like keeping in contact."
"Young master."
"If you don't want to..."
"No! I'll do it. If not me, who would?"
Jane answered him with her face gone red. Seeing it, Yulia felt as if her heart were burning.
How nice for her. Jane can follow him like that. But I will never let it come to that. Even if I have to use everything I have.
Trying to hide the feeling, she slipped into their talk.
"Young master, what I can promise you is that I will truly try everything I am able to do."
"I know you will, Senior."
"I'll look into it from every direction, and if there's a clear result, I'll tell you then."
"So nothing is settled yet?"
"No. I'll need to talk it over with Marchen. Until now I've been too busy answering what's already happened to think of anything else."
After that, they each took a sip of the coffee set before them. Today, for some reason, it tasted bitter, and thick on the tongue.
Jane, who had been deep in thought for a while, spoke to them carefully.
"I was thinking about something you said before, young master."
"Mm."
"Redfrin wouldn't have set all of this in motion herself. It's right to think there's something behind her."
"Probably."
"Could this also be connected to what you heard from Instructor Mnevoir? That talk of collapsing the regime..."
"That might be reaching a bit far, but it's still a fairly possible story. It's not as if I haven't thought it myself."
"Right. It's only one possibility, but the fact that this happened after the Second Prince departed... maybe..."
Jane stopped there. Understanding what she meant, both Yulia and Blow felt their breath catch. What she had just said was nothing other than this: Randolph might be the one behind it.
"His Highness is dissatisfied with the current regime?"
"Well. He is the Second Prince. There is a crown prince."
"Yes. A second prince would have his constraints. It can't be helped. Only one person can sit the emperor's throne."
"What is the relationship between those two? Prince Randolph and the crown prince?"
"As I recall, they were not particularly close. That's why the crown prince doesn't care much for Lady Rachel."
"Because Lady Rachel is close to Prince Randolph."
"Yes, that's right. Of course, Lady Rachel seemed aware of that herself."
Yulia let the end of her words trail off. Hearing all of it, Blow's thoughts could only grow tangled. Just as he, after learning Randolph was a transmigrator, had thought he would remove the man if he ever became a threat — from Randolph's side, it was equally possible to judge that Blow, who went about making incidents, ought to be erased.
"First, let's do what we can, and keep talking. I'll go see Herbena once tomorrow."
"You're going yourself?"
Yulia looked at him with worry plain on her face. Blow shrugged, as if there were no help for it.
"Linne went, and was told she wouldn't come, so I have to go see what's going on."
"It will be dangerous."
"I'll only show my face at night and come back, so it shouldn't be a great problem. I'll wear a robe as well. I'll borrow a carriage from Skadi, or from you, Senior."
"That certainly would be better. Just changing carriages ought to keep it from becoming a major problem."
Only then did Yulia nod, as if reassured. Jane, a fellow confidant who could not understand Herbena's thinking no matter how she turned it over, had gone completely stiff.
The next night.
Blow was riding with Skadi in a carriage bound for Caipol Magic School.
"Skadi, thank you."
"What are you saying! Of course we have to go — it's Herbena, of all people!"
That morning he had already shared with her everything from the three-person meeting that could be shared. Some hurt still seemed to linger; her face was not as bright as usual, and she looked as if she had a great deal on her mind, so Blow had said he and Jane would go to Herbena together.
No! We might need flight magic if things go wrong, and we're taking a Hetaya carriage — I... I can't not ride in it!! Umhahaha!!
And so it had been decided that the two of them would go and bring Herbena back.
"B-Blow! I'll bring Herbena down, so come out when I signal."
"Got it. Are you nervous? Why are you stammering like this?"
"Because... you never know..."
"Hmm. Maybe I should have come alone."
"You can't! This is Herbena's business, of all things. Umhahaha..."
There was a strained force in Skadi's voice, and somehow she would not meet his eyes. Blow was still finding that strange when the carriage wheels at last came to a stop.
"I'll be right back, so c-come out when I signal!"
"Got it."
She stepped down, and about five minutes passed. Then came a knock on the carriage door. Tok. Tok.
The moment he heard it, Blow, the hood of his robe pulled up, opened the door and looked outside. At the sight that met his eyes, he had no choice but to stop.
Herbena stood there, purple hair glittering in the moonlight, offering him a Serdian salute — her palm set beside her brow.