The Cure (2)

Rodeban walked into the reception room without a second thought—then flinched.

The gazes pouring into him were far too intense.

…Why is everyone glaring at me?

Their eyes were downright vicious. The real problem was that the people behind those stares were anything but ordinary. Two noble young ladies from families counted among the finest in the Empire, and one girl of unprecedented talent who could wipe a nation off the map. People who would each be a handful one-on-one were all gathered in a single room.

In short, the situation made his skin crawl.

Should I just leave?

Of course he couldn't. This was a summons from high-ranking nobles. Rodeban sat down on an empty sofa with an awkward smile.

"Ah—hello, everyone. Sorry about that. Looks like I'm the last one here."

The girls answered in turn.

"It's fine."

"It's quite all right."

"It's fine."

After "it's fine" had come out three times in a row, Rodeban asked,

"My lady. The reason you wanted to see me…?"

"Ah, well…"

Seria began explaining the results of the investigation into the attacks on Rodeban, and the forces behind them.

"The ones who hired the underworld mercenary Veraok were a recently founded religion of the vampire clan called the Red Blood Sect. They've been confirmed to have attacked not only you, Sir Rodeban, but civilian homes as well, so the knight order is currently tracking their base of operations."

"I see."

"According to what we heard from some of the captured vampires, this Progenitor is known as the oldest of their kind. Her combat power itself isn't particularly formidable, but she possesses several techniques specialized for survival. Sir Rodeban—do you have any plans to travel far anytime soon?"

Rodeban shook his head.

"No. Not for the time being. Not until I receive the Holy Fluid."

"It seems this Progenitor wants you quite badly. I'd recommend staying within Tiliard for a while."

"Mm. Understood. You've gone to a lot of trouble, my lady."

"Not at all. Ah, and I've processed all the documents that needed to be submitted to the Imperial Court regarding the demonic sword."

"Oh—thank you."

Rodeban nodded. Of everything he'd heard today, that was the most welcome news. If she hadn't handled it, a document bomb would already have been raining down on his head.

Seria suddenly held out four or five letters.

"These are from your assigned healer, Sir Rodeban. It seems the letters kept missing each other and never got a reply, so several piled up."

"Ah, I see."

Rodeban unfolded one of the folded sheets and read it. Three short sentences were written there.

"……"

Rodeban blinked a few times, then folded the letter in half, unfolded it, and stared at it again.

…What? He actually wrote it like this and sent it?

Seria, watching him, asked,

"Is something the matter?"

Rodeban shook his head.

"Ah, no."

The contents were rather absurd. The handwriting looked like it had been scrawled in a fury—a letter dashed off in a towering rage. The other letters were much the same as the first. The notable difference was that the closer the dates got to the present, the more profanity there was.

Luce spoke up out of nowhere.

"They all say to rest."

She'd apparently been peeking over his shoulder the entire time. Elise, who had been sitting in silence, cut in.

"And they sent curses, too. Just how badly did you not listen."

Rodeban hastily crumpled the letters.

"Hey—why are you reading someone else's mail—"

Elise clicked her tongue and talked right over him.

"You think letters only came to you? Think about that man's personality. I got five of them myself. Asking me to stop you. He probably stuffed several into the Grand Duke's household too, didn't he? Right, Lady Crusias?"

Seria nodded in agreement.

"That's right. Several letters arrived at the Grand Duke's household as well. They strongly insisted that Sir Rodeban needs at least three months of rest."

"Ah…"

As Rodeban sat there with his mouth hanging open, Elise delivered the finishing blow.

"The cure testing will take about a month, so don't set one foot outside Tiliard until then. That's an order."

Rodeban furrowed his brow.

"I'm retired. What order…?"

When he protested with an incredulous look, Elise said shortly,

"Shut up."

In that instant, Rodeban's face darkened.

…Something's wrong with my body.

His entire frame had gone suddenly, crushingly heavy. The moment he tried to move, he felt a current of mana cinching around him like a vice. He couldn't budge an inch.

"……!"

Rodeban hurriedly rolled his eyes toward Elise. An unpleasant little smile was playing at her lips. He tried to speak—and realized his mouth wouldn't move.

"…Mmph!"

Elise had locked his body in place with mana. And she'd done it without him noticing at all—an exquisitely precise manifestation of Telekinesis.

"…Nngh!"

Rodeban protested with his face alone, eyes wide, a look that said this treatment was completely unjust. Elise put on a very gentle smile, then turned to Seria.

"Lady Crusias, what do you think of my order?"

Seria answered with a thoroughly satisfied expression.

"Quite right, Lady Teresevan."

Luce looked back and forth between the two of them, then nodded.

"I agree too. So it's unanimous…"

Thump. Thump. Thump. She tapped the table three times, lightly, then spoke as if delivering a verdict.

After receiving that final warning to rest, Rodeban spent a month touring every corner of Tiliard.

The place he visited today was a famous lakeside park, where the scenery of the frozen lake was said to be especially beautiful.

"I'm doomed. I'm so doomed…"

Rodeban sat on a park bench, watching a woman mutter that she was finished. She wore the white robes of a priestess and stood staring out over the lake, occasionally clutching her own hair and yanking at it. Anyone could tell she was from the Holy Kingdom—and her voice was somehow familiar.

"…Who is that. I feel like I know her."

He tilted his head once, then started toward her. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Jade-green hair peeked through the priestly robes, and the name Tanya floated into his mind. It was a name he'd seen often in the game.

…She's the Saintess. Or rather—not yet?

They were acquaintances by face only. When he'd been dispatched—demoted, really—to the Holy Kingdom, they'd exchanged greetings in passing. After her standing rose, marriage talks involving Rodeban had even come in. He'd refused, of course.

The woman let out a sigh as if the ground itself were collapsing beneath her.

"Aigoo…"

Her complexion was terrible. If he had to put it into words, it was the look of someone whose nerves had been stretched right up to the breaking point.

Rodeban bought some street food from a stall across the way, then approached her. He'd seen a setting in the game that she had a formidable appetite.

"Excuse me. You're Priestess Tanya, aren't you?"

"I'm doo—wait, who are you?"

Wariness flooded her face in an instant. Rodeban's current attire was sunglasses and a hat pulled down low; with his face completely covered, he looked like a thoroughly suspicious character. He lowered the sunglasses and said quietly,

"It's Rodeban, Priestess. Didn't we meet a few times at the ceremonies?"

Tanya's eyes went round.

"…Oh! It really is you?"

The wariness vanished as if it had never been there, and her voice jumped an entire octave.

"I saw you in the papers! The Empire's hero! The star of the Winterfelt campaign! It's been so long!"

She was loud. Very loud. Rodeban glanced around once, then put a finger to his lips.

"Shh… please keep your voice down a little. If people recognize me, we'll have to stage a chase scene right here."

"Ah, I'm sorry! I got excited without realizing."

Rodeban held out the chicken skewer in his hand.

"Please have this. Your expression looked so bad I bought it."

"Oh! Thank you."

She accepted it without a shred of hesitation, demolished ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the skewer in two bites, and immediately looked at Rodeban's other hand—the chicken skewer he'd just been about to put in his own mouth.

"……"

Their gazes met. Tanya, wearing the face of someone whose stomach had not even registered the first skewer, said,

"You only bought two?"

"……"

Rodeban scratched the back of his head, then pointed toward the downtown district.

"…Shall we get a meal? You've come from far away. I'll treat you."

"Oh! I'd love that!"

He held out the skewer he'd been about to eat as well.

"Have this one too."

Tanya snatched it with a bright face.

"Oh! Thank you! The hero's chicken skewer!"

"…I just bought it from across the way."

Rodeban led her to the most famous restaurant in the downtown area. A sign came into view from a distance.

Whether they served whole roast pig or marinated grilled pork, he didn't know—but it was a famous establishment either way. Even Rodeban, who'd been in the North for a long time, had only ever looked at it from the outside. He'd never actually gone in. The place was obscenely expensive.

Tanya marveled.

"The Pig's Blossom! This place is incredibly famous even in the Holy Kingdom! I could never get in because the reservations were always full…"

The moment they stepped through the entrance, an employee approached with a thoroughly troubled expression.

"Um, sir, we—"

Before the man could say another word, Rodeban pulled out the token issued by the Grand Duke's household.

The employee's waist bent at a perfect ninety degrees the instant he confirmed the token.

"Confirmed. Please come this way."

They were shown immediately to a VIP room in the inner part of the restaurant. Tanya's eyes went wide, and she marveled in a small voice.

"Oh! So if you have the title of hero, you can just waltz into luxury restaurants ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠like this?"

"No."

Rodeban shook his head. Until recently he'd been pitifully hitching rides on other people's carriages.

"It's because I'm currently a guest of the Grand Duke's household."

"I-I'm a guest of the Grand Duke's household too, so why am I…"

She made an enormously aggrieved face. Only then did Rodeban ask,

"Ah, Priestess—what brings you to Tiliard?"

"Demon worshippers appeared near the Holy Kingdom, but our Holy Knights still haven't recovered their strength since the last war. I came to request supporting troops! But the cost was way too expensive… so I was looking for another way!"

Rodeban asked, out of the blue,

"The Grand Duke's household didn't feed you?"

Tanya hurriedly waved her hands.

"Ah, no! That's not it… it's just that eating at the lord's castle pricks my conscience a little. I eat quite a lot, you see…"

Rodeban hit the nail on the head.

"So you feel like you're just sitting around stuffing your face without contributing anything?"

"Yes! That's exactly it!"

Tanya nodded with violent enthusiasm. A thought seemed to occur to Rodeban, and he said,

"If you don't have anything to do… a friend of mine is developing a cure for Black Heart Disease. Would you come take a look?"

It had been a month since Elise started developing the cure, and she still hadn't produced a result she herself was satisfied with. Thanks to that, he couldn't receive the Holy Fluid, and his mandatory rest period was stretching longer and longer.

Fortunately, Tanya agreed at once.

"Oh! I'd love to!"

"Thank you."

At that moment the food arrived. An employee set down an enormous plate, and a grotesquely large hunk of meat sat upon it.

Tanya said,

"It's a whole roast of a wild boar from the Lepierre Mountains! The intense seasoning is its specialty!"

"Ah, I see."

Rodeban nodded vaguely. Starting with the wild boar, dish after dish began filling the table. While the staff came and went setting down plates, he asked Tanya,

"Priestess. Have you perhaps heard of something called the Leaf of Eternity?"

The Leaf of Eternity was the next material needed to purify the Demon Eye. The real reason he was treating her to a meal was that it was about time this item started turning up in the Holy Kingdom.

Tanya blinked a few times, then said,

"…Huh? Sorry. What did you just say?"

Rodeban glanced at her. Her gaze had been locked on the plates from the moment the food came out. Judging that further conversation would be a lost cause, he said,

"…Just eat for now."

"Thank you! I'll enjoy it!"