The Secret Cave (3)
A black carriage drew to a halt before the ducal castle in Tiliard. A servant who had been waiting opened the door, and Leuron, the Grand Duke's silver-haired heir, stepped out. Weariness sat heavy on his face as he turned to the man.
"...Father?"
"His Grace is in the study."
"Understood."
He had only just returned from the capital, and the fatigue ran deep. When he entered the study, the Grand Duke was buried in a mountain of documents, same as always. The old man looked up at his son.
"You're back. You've worked hard."
"Not at all. It was simply what needed to be done."
The Grand Duke's gaze drifted back to his papers as he spoke. Today's workload, it seemed, was heavier than usual.
"Rodeban has departed for the Secret Cave."
Leuron's brow furrowed. He had heard the antidote was nearly complete — but that was not what troubled him.
"...Alone?"
"What, you think he won't make it through?"
Leuron tilted his head at that.
"He doesn't carry the blood of our house."
The gates were trials of cold. Rodeban's recently acquired demonic sword was said to convert mana into frost — an unusual gift — but even so, it hardly seemed like it would be enough.
He was still turning that over when a snort of laughter reached his ears.
"That doesn't matter in the slightest. If a door's blocking the gate, you just cut the damn thing down. What actually matters is the token that lets you pass the barrier the first family head created."
"Is that so?"
"I started out attempting them properly myself. Then I lost my temper and smashed everything from the midpoint onward. Who's going to know if you put it back together afterward?"
"Hmm."
A cruder method than he had expected. Leuron wore an awkward look for a moment, then asked,
"And Seria? Is she making any progress?"
The Grand Duke set down his papers. The object of the sentence had been left unsaid, but there was no mistaking who it referred to. Three years ago, a marriage proposal to Rodeban had already been refused once — and she had not given up. With him in the North this time, she had decided to win his heart herself.
"In my opinion..."
He dragged a hand down his forehead, then let out a long, weary sigh.
"It's a lost cause."
A rather blunt way of putting it. Leuron scratched the back of his head.
"...That bad?"
"Think about the man's temperament. He loathes anything complicated — and nobles, as a rule, are flashy, noisy, and a pain in the neck. Odds are he turned Seria down precisely because she's a noble."
When the Grand Duke finished, Leuron found himself nodding. It was an uncomfortably accurate reading. So was there truly no hope at all?
"Then how does one change his mind?"
The Grand Duke's answer was brief.
"I have no idea."
"..."
To his silent son, the Grand Duke waved a hand toward the door. He had expected as much, so the reaction did not surprise him in the least.
"Go on. You must be exhausted."
"Yes, Father."
"Next time you come, bring me an answer to that question of yours. For now, I'm considering offering him command of the knights. Whether he'll take that either, I couldn't say."
"..."
Leuron closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them. It had been his own question, but he was beginning to think it had no answer. This was a man who, at twenty-nine, had never accepted so much as an engagement, let alone a marriage.
"...Good night, Father."
Leuron bowed once and left the study, with the distinct feeling he had brought up something he shouldn't have.
Inside the Secret Cave, Rodeban watched Luce approach.
"..."
The air around her was distinctly ominous. A crimson killing intent poured off her entire body, as though she had just come from a massacre — as if the words Heavenly Destroyer Star had taken physical form. The one mercy was that the aura dwindled the closer she came.
A thought crossed his mind.
Did I raise this kid wrong?
He'd have to have actually raised a kid to know.
Before he realized it, she was standing right in front of him. Her voice was flat, without rise or fall.
"What're you doing."
It was a question with two edges — what he was up to, and why he had come all the way here in the first place. Rodeban wiped the cold sweat from his brow and opened his mouth.
"...Making flowers out of ice."
Luce looked down. Shattered fragments of ice lay scattered across the floor.
"Sounds fun."
Rodeban answered honestly.
"It's not that fun. Mostly just frustrating."
"Then why're you doing it?"
He pointed at the blue door blocking the path.
"It won't open for me. And I figured I'd get some training in while I was at it."
Luce tilted her head, as if she couldn't see what the problem was.
"Can't you just open it?"
"...How?"
Her answer was simple.
"Push it."
Rodeban scratched his cheek.
"It pushes?"
"Yeah."
"..."
That settled one mystery.
So she just shoved her way through the first gate.
A truly barbaric method. But when your body was that strong, your brain didn't have to do any of the work. Impressive, in a completely different sense.
...Just how ridiculous is her physical ability?
Once Luce's eyes returned to normal, Rodeban asked what he had actually been wondering.
"Luce, anything happen on the way here?"
He meant: you didn't cause any trouble, did you?
Luce let out a deep sigh.
"Why would I cause trouble. You're the one who caused trouble. How could you just take off without even telling me."
"...!"
Rodeban's face went slack with shock.
Luce just sighed...!
He had never seen that before. And her speech was far more fluent than usual. He took a step back as if he had seen a ghost.
"W-who are you. You're not Luce. Why are you talking so well."
Luce huddled in on herself.
"...Mister. I'm cold."
Back to her usual way of talking. Only then did Rodeban actually look at her. She had apparently come through a blizzard; her clothes were soaked through. Keeping a cautious distance, he pointed to one side of the cave.
"...There's a pile of glowstones over there. It's warm, so go thaw out. Dry your clothes too."
He still looked suspicious. Luce nodded, a little sulky.
"Okay."
A short while later, Rodeban regarded his newly acquired bodyguard. A girl who might, someday, slaughter hundreds of thousands without mercy. For now, though, he was still diligently civilizing her, so it was fine.
I did actually need her, to be fair.
Once he finished everything and left the Secret Cave, there was a real chance people from the Crimson Blood Cult or the underworld would be waiting outside. Only now did Rodeban admit that rushing up here had been a mistake on his part. He really had come too hastily.
When Luce came back with her clothes dried, he spoke in a gentle tone.
"Sorry. Mister came up here too fast, didn't he?"
Luce nodded.
"It's okay now."
"Yeah? Thanks for forgiving me."
Rodeban ruffled her short black hair. The killing intent that had lingered in her eyes was gone completely. And then, as if he had been waiting for this exact moment, he dumped out the ugly truth.
"...But honestly, it's not all my fault, right? If the Grand Duke's house had given me the Holy Fluid sooner, would I have done this? Yes or no."
He forced a binary choice on her. Luce pointed at the door.
"Mister, just hurry up and do that."
"...Fine."
Rodeban plopped down on the floor and got back to work. He channeled mana through the demonic sword into an ice flower that so far consisted of only a stem. A single petal began to form slowly along the blade.
And then—
Crack—!
"...!"
The petal burst. Fortunately, the stem was still intact. He had already blown the thing apart more times than he could count, so his stomach dropped for a second. He let out a breath of relief, then tried again.
Shaaa...
Watching from the side, Luce's mouth formed a round O.
"Oh..."
This time, the flower was blooming properly. A moonrise flower had eight petals. When the fifth ice petal took shape...
Crack—!
"...!"
This time the stem went with it. For a moment Rodeban's eyes bulged as if he were screaming every curse he knew with them alone — then he went right back to it. He didn't even have time to sigh. If he didn't get this done, he would have to choke down that tasteless bread again. The liquor he had brought was gone too, so getting out of here as fast as possible was the only sensible play.
Frost flowed from the demonic sword once more.
Hwaaa...
The cold took shape with startling speed — faster than anything he had managed so far. Stem to petals, all in a single unbroken rush. Luce's eyes went wide.
"A moonrise flower..."
Rodeban wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand and looked at the transparent ice flower blooming on the blade. It caught the blue light of the surrounding glowstones and shimmered with a crystalline brilliance.
It was beautiful.
"Finally. At last. In the end..."
Muttering whatever came to mind, Rodeban shot to his feet and immediately presented the ice flower. His face was taut with tension.
"..."
A moment later, light flashed once from the blue door.
Rrrrrrk...
The door opened. Success. Rodeban spoke in a voice more vigorous than he had managed in a long while.
"Let's go!"
The instant he took a step forward, Luce spoke.
"Mister. Make me one too."
"What?"
His head snapped around, irritation flashing across his face. He had just poured every ounce of concentration he had into making that thing...
Is she doing this on purpose?
Perhaps sensing that look, Luce added one more word.
"It's pretty."
Apparently she meant it. Left with no choice, Rodeban answered.
"...I'll make you one later."
"Okay."
They headed through the opened door. Here, too, reviews had been scrawled across one wall.
"Harder than I expected."
"The difficulty jump from the first gate is insane!"
"Went back down the mountain to train and came again."
The consensus, it seemed, was that it was difficult. He checked the Grand Duke's as well.
"You idiots. You can't even do something this easy?"
"Ha."
Rodeban let out a dry laugh. Enough time had passed since the Grand Duke cleared the first gate, apparently, that this particular review was considerably more arrogant.
Luce spoke up.
"Mister should write one too."
"...Should I?"
Reviews gained credibility the more of them there were. Rodeban scratched a few concise characters onto the wall.
"If this is hard for you, just quit."
Luce roasted him in a single word.
"Childish."
Rodeban looked faintly stung. It had felt good writing it, but looking at it again, it was an extraordinarily childish sentence. He didn't particularly want to erase it, though. The world needed at least one childish person in it...
He grabbed Luce's hand and pulled her along.
"C-come on, let's go."
"Okay."