The Count
We climbed up to the first floor and stepped out into a spacious lobby.
Judging by the surroundings, it wasn't quite the level of a gaudy mansion, but it was clearly a small estate of its own. Then again, it came with its own underground storage, so perhaps that was only natural.
What struck me as strange, though, was how quiet a place this large was.
"It definitely feels lived-in, though."
"Not a speck of dust anywhere. Someone's been maintaining it regularly. They must just be away for a while."
I ran a finger along the nearby wall. Smooth as glass, without so much as a grain of dust.
Lena craned her head all the way back, admiring the ceiling. There was a chandelier up there, done in a stately old-fashioned design.
"How much would a house like this even cost?"
"Hard to say..."
"Depends on the location, but on the open market you'd be looking at around 300 platinum coins. Of course, owning a house in the Inner Castle isn't something money alone can buy."
"Ah, right—and the upkeep wouldn't be cheap either."
You'd need at least five or six maids, plus a head housekeeper to keep them all in line. Twenty gold coins a month would vanish without anyone noticing.
Lena slumped in defeat.
"Uuugh... I want to stop living in inns already."
"Hmm. It's true we've about reached our limit with inns."
"It's not exactly restful, you know."
Not to mention the security was terrible. We practically had to carry our valuables on our persons at all times.
Maybe this was as good a time as any to get a house.
"Let's just keep it in mind for now. With a long-term lease, we might be able to get a place in the Outer Castle cheaply."
"But any single quest runs at least a week, so it would sit empty. Kind of a waste."
"If we're thinking about it that much, maybe we should just buy one outright...?"
Tap, tap.
Trading idle chatter like this, we made our way up to the second floor. Just as the butler who'd guided us here had said, a red door occupied a corner of the hallway.
I raised my hand to knock—and then lowered my voice to give Lena a brief warning.
"There'll be at least one noble in there. Watch your mouth."
"Yes, yes~ I'll read the room and keep my legs crossed politely."
"I'll hold you to that. Now, let's go in... hm?"
Click... creeeak...
I'd barely raised my knuckles when the red door swung open on its own.
Peering inside, I found the room dark, the curtains drawn. Three presences stirred within.
A deep, weighty voice urged us in.
"Why do you stand there instead of entering?"
"...Pardon the intrusion."
Creeeak... thud.
Noah stepped in last and shut the door behind her, plunging the room into even deeper darkness—until, as if the occupants had been waiting for exactly this moment, someone lit the lamps, and the soft glow illuminated us all in turn.
"...!"
Three people, exactly as expected, were waiting for us.
A middle-aged man with a stubborn cast to his features, dressed in classic knight's garb. An elderly gentleman in a plain formal robe who nonetheless radiated aristocratic dignity. And the third was... unexpectedly, a familiar face.
"Lady Catherine?"
"It's been a while."
The youngest daughter of the Count—the most powerful man in this entire city. Catherine beamed and gave us a cheerful wave.
I moved to return the greeting, but the white-haired old man at the center spoke first.
"Catherine. Did you give this one leave to use your name?"
"Dad! 'This one'?! How many times have I told you not to call people that? And this gentleman has more than earned proper treatment!"
"Tch... enough. There's no point arguing on parallel tracks. If you vouch for him, that's all that matters."
Dad?
I took stock of the white-haired elder, careful not to overstep the bounds of courtesy. He had some lean muscle, but the overall impression was of a man kept deliberately gaunt—as if he'd maintained his body strictly for health's sake. Judging by the elasticity of his skin and the depth of his wrinkles, he was past seventy on the most charitable estimate. Surely Catherine wasn't somewhere around fifty herself... the late-born child of a late marriage, most likely.
Wait, no. If this was Catherine's father, then... he was the Count? And not just any Count—a Margrave!
The ruler of Bolston Castle, a fortress city whose population soared past a million. The title said Count, but as a Margrave responsible for defending the border, he commanded his own private army and held legions of lesser nobles beneath him—a power broker of terrifying magnitude.
I'd made a rough guess the moment we'd been brought in through secret underground passages, but he was a far bigger fish than I'd imagined.
Whatever the Count asked of us, we would be in no position to refuse.
Still... private gathering or not, the way Catherine so casually calls him 'Dad'—he must dote on her quite a bit.
On the surface, he gave off the impression of a cold, unsentimental man who couldn't care less about family.
Their household must be closer-knit than it looked.
Having finished his brief skirmish with Catherine, the old man fixed me with a weary look and spoke.
"Haah... even the most ignorant of adventurers should know who I am by now."
"Dad!"
"Adventurers are ignorant, are they not? Well then—tell me. Who am I?"
"I speak with utmost humility... but would you be Count Risacher de la Bornee, rightful ruler of Bolston Castle?"
I dropped to one knee and answered with practiced care, adopting the most respectful bearing I could manage. Everything about the way he spoke marked him as an aristocrat of the old school, through and through. No sense throwing away my connection to Catherine by getting cheeky now.
The corner of the Count's mouth curled up. Apparently my answer had pleased him.
"So... heavily abbreviated, but you use the proper flourishes. I grant it—among adventurers, you're a cut above."
"Father... I-I'm going to get angry."
"Ahem! On to business, then. The reason I've summoned you all in such secrecy is twofold: to repay you for saving my daughter's life... and because I have a personal commission for you."
The Count flinched at the drop in Catherine's voice and abruptly pivoted to the matter at hand. Arrogant, certainly—but there was no mistaking a man who loved his daughter. And since Catherine's eyes were blazing right now, the commission presumably wouldn't be anything too strange.
I bowed low to the floor.
"How could I ever refuse the command of a Count who labors day and night for the realm? My only fear is failing to carry out that command faithfully."
"Magnificent—"
"Mr. Ha Jun, please stop with the flowery speech too! Ugh! What is this crusted-over way of talking, straight out of the Five Kingdoms era? Nobody speaks like that anymore—"
"..."
Catherine shuddered dramatically, hugging her own arms as if genuinely crawling with goosebumps. And the Count—who had been wearing a thoroughly satisfied expression, mouth opening to add something more—clamped it shut.
He seemed to approve... was my phrasing really that bizarre?
Then again, this girl hadn't been this type originally, had she? It was more like... the textbook noble-lady archetype, or something close to it.
At any rate, Catherine's antics had thoroughly scrambled the solemn atmosphere, so I eased myself into speaking with only a slight lift of my head.
"...My lady. When you spoke with Henry back then, I don't recall you being quite like this. What was it you called him? 'My knight'—"
"Wai—"
"BAHAHAHAHAHA!"
The Count, seated rigidly in his stern countenance, suddenly exploded!
Even the middle-aged knight standing at his side—the one who'd been glowering holes through us—bowed his head and shook with barely suppressed laughter.
What on earth was going on?
Catherine, her face scarlet, shrieked at the top of her lungs.
"WHY does THAT have to come up HERE?!"
"W-well... you're just so different from before, that..."
"Hahahahaha! I told her to stop that nonsense ages ago! Not that I blame her—she's clearly quite taken with that Henry fellow, but—"
"DAAAD!"
...
"Is it true? You called him 'my knight' the moment you met him?"
"Yes, yes..."
"Chk-chk! And to carry off such a performance so flawlessly under such dire circumstances! That's my girl!"
According to the Count, the dignified, old-world noble air I'd sensed at my first meeting with Catherine had been an act from start to finish. Upon learning that Henry had a weakness for refined, dignified ladies, she'd made a point of never breaking character in his presence.
...Still, no matter how you slice it, is that really how someone reacts after being held hostage for days?
Catherine was no ordinary noble daughter either.
"...I'm going home."
"You'll do no such thing. It was your suggestion to bring this fellow here in the first place. You'll take responsibility for your words, won't you?"
"Ugh... just get on with it, please."
Thanks to Catherine's sacrifice(?), after the round of roaring laughter ran its course, the mood in the room had lightened to a remarkable degree.
Now the Count, as if he'd seen all he needed to see, settled into a startlingly relaxed posture and finally turned to me.
"First, the reward. Nothing I could give would truly be enough for saving Catherine's life, but—"
"Dad, honestly—"
"Hmm! Regardless, the reward should at least meet the world's expectations. This mansion is that reward."
"...I'm sorry, what?"
He's giving us this house?
Ignoring my reaction entirely, the Count continued.
"This estate sits near the very center of the Inner Castle. As for safety... hmm, given certain unsavory events of late, I can't make outright guarantees... but I'd still boast it's among the better-protected residences."
"But the upkeep—"
"Ah, pay the maintenance costs no mind. The steward will send the staff and cover their wages himself. You need only enjoy what's been prepared for you."
"...Thank you."
I answered, doing my best to suppress my astonishment at this completely unexpected gift. Even while Lena had been rattling on about wanting a house, I'd never dreamed we'd end up with a mansion like this... Although—wouldn't it have been even better if he'd simply given us money of equivalent value? We could've kitted ourselves out with several artifact weapons, for one thing.
Then again, refraining from handing over coin directly has been part of the art of the reward since time immemorial.
Either way, it was a lavish, magnificent gift.
"Now, then. The reward ends there. It's time we discussed the real matter at hand. Sir Gail?"
"Yes, my lord."
Whoosh!
The middle-aged knight, who had stood bolt upright without relaxing his guard for even an instant, released his mana in all four directions.
Dense, intricate mana, with a clinging, almost viscous quality to it. It spread outward like a radar in even pulses, then flowed back toward its master.
The knight spoke.
"All clear, my lord."
"Good. You there—come closer and sit."
Now that he mentioned it, we were still standing. At the Count's word, we carefully took the seats arranged before us.
So this was where the commission began?
The Count steepled his fingers, his expression grave.
"Unexpected events have cost us a great deal of time, so I'll keep this brief. Bolston is currently in grave danger."
"...?"
...
I couldn't hide my bewilderment. What was he talking about, out of nowhere?
"What do you mean by that? Bolston, in danger?"
"If you have ears, you'll have heard of the disappearances. As of now, seven children of noble houses have been abducted. Among them are several heirs upon whom their families' successions depend."
"!"
Seven abductions? I'd assumed it was two, three at most. The situation was far worse than I'd thought.
But what did the disappearances have to do with Bolston being in danger?
The Count pressed on.
"The culprits are the Evil Cult. You wouldn't know this, but they've abandoned any pretense of hiding and begun massing in force in the hills outside Bolston. Suspicious, wouldn't you say?"
"...It is suspicious. They should be critically short on fighting strength."
"A cult concealing nothing about its identity. Hostages taken in absurd, needless numbers. And the ransom demands—so outlandish they border on deranged. Everything. Everything about this is wrong. The way I see it, they're deliberately trying to provoke us—to provoke the nobility. There must be another purpose. I can see no other explanation."
"I see."
Frankly, I didn't have much of an opinion on the matter. It was the Evil Cult, after all—whatever "other purpose" they had, at worst it would be using the hostages for sacrifice. Without knowing the full details of the disappearance case, there was little more I could reason out.
Naturally, the Count had no obligation to bring me up to speed on such particulars, so he simply laid out his own conjecture in a level voice.
"Judging by my long experience, those cultists are running some manner of diversionary operation."
"A diversion, you say...?"
"I mean that the hostage-taking outside the city, the provocation of the nobility—all of it is bait. They have a far bigger target in their sights."
"Which would be...?"
"Bolston itself."