Chapter 13
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 13
Chapter Title: Visitors from the Kingdom of Carbonihar
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The man's voice trembled violently.
His bewilderment was so plain that anyone could see Ulrich had hit the mark.
Roberta didn't know who Banares was, but she was certain this man had been hiding his identity, using Count Bellido as his proxy.
The man opened his mouth to make an excuse, but quickly realizing it was futile, he let out a deep sigh.
"No one has ever recognized me until now; I never imagined I'd be found out at the very end. That's right. I am Bailen, Duke of Tolemanca and a descendant of the great king Banares."
Duke Bailen asked, his tone laced with disbelief.
"How in the world did you know?"
"You resemble him. Banares."
"Resemble him?"
Ulrich rested his arm on the chair's armrest again, propped his chin on his hand, and looked at Bailen. To Roberta, he seemed to be comparing the man before him to a figure from his memories.
"No, perhaps you're quite different."
As he muttered to himself, Bailen frowned. The lord's unchanging demeanor, even after he had revealed himself as a member of the royal family, must have irked him.
"What do you mean, resemble?"
he asked again, raising his voice.
"How do you know what Banares—what he looked like?"
"I saw him once in Carbonihar."
"You saw him?"
Bailen scoffed, as if the idea was absurd.
"From what I've heard, you are a little over three hundred years old. To have met him, you would have needed to be born several hundred years earlier. How could you have seen him?"
"I was there for a short while."
Ulrich took his chin off his fist and continued.
"I wasn't Ulrich of Dithmarschen then. I went by a different name. And I didn't stay long, not like I have here. Just very briefly, several times. I met Banares then."
"Met him? You mean you met him face-to-face?"
"Yes, face-to-face."
Roberta heard one of the guests mutter "impossible" under their breath. They wore displeased expressions, as if they were listening to nonsense.
But Bailen was different. Roberta watched his expression change. The one who should have been frowning the most instead wiped his face clean of emotion, lowered his voice, and asked.
"Did you use your current name back then?"
"No, it was a different name."
"Then what name was it? When you met him."
Roberta's ears perked up.
The lord's other names? She thought it might be a clue, whether she recognized them or not. The lord she knew didn't seem the type to have lived an ordinary life, even under a different name.
"My memory is hazy. It was a long time ago, you know. Besides, I had to change my name often back then. I used several names even in front of Banares."
At the word "several," Bailen quickly asked.
"It doesn't matter. Tell me whatever you remember."
Ulrich narrowed his eyes, tapping his temple with the index and middle fingers of his right hand. After a moment, he began listing names one by one.
Garian, Lanier, Stein, Lusse... Roberta compared them to her memories, searching for a connection, but felt not even a flicker of familiarity.
But Bailen was different. He gasped as the names were listed. His eyes widened, as if something from within had risen up and struck him.
The bewilderment that had painted Bailen's face at the start of their conversation was first covered by a layer of doubt, and now it was painted over with astonishment.
"...Later, I combined Rosen from Rosenburg and Stein from Braunstein to make the name Rosenstein. I thought it was a decent name, but the two regions didn't get along. Thanks to that, I had to change it quickly. And the next one should be the last."
"..."
"As I recall, the last name I used when I met that boy, Banares, chronologically, was this one. I used it while briefly serving under a provincial noble—"
And as Ulrich's list of names came to an end,
"Laurent."
Bailen spoke the name before anyone else.
Ulrich paused and looked at him.
"Yes, and like the elves, I added a title before the surname. So the full name was Laurent de Villeneuve. It was a name I used while briefly serving under a noble from the Villeneuve region."
A pale face stared at Ulrich.
"You... were Laurent."
His voice trembled.
"It was just a few names. I thought it was a coincidence..."
"Too many to be a coincidence. Wouldn't you agree?"
"Indeed... no."
Bailen corrected himself.
"You are right."
"Did Banares tell you?"
"Yes. He was my grandfather."
"Grandfather?"
Duke Bailen's tone had changed.
"I see. Now everything makes sense."
Ulrich muttered, then gestured for him to continue.
"He said you had a great many names. So when he taught me about you, he started by teaching me those many names. The ones you just listed."
It couldn't be helped back then, Ulrich said.
"I couldn't stay in one place for long; I had to keep moving. I had no choice but to change my name each time. In fact, I was lucky to have met that boy, Banares, as many times as I did."
"At the time, I thought it was a rather fanciful story... but in the end, he was right. He said that one who has lived a long time will inevitably meet another who has lived a long time."
"You seem to have heard a lot about me."
"Yes. I have heard a great deal."
A great, great deal, Bailen murmured.
"Did Banares leave any message?"
"He left an object. He said words can change."
"I see."
Bailen watched Laurent—no, Ulrich—lift his teacup.
"What was... your relationship with him?"
"Relationship? I looked after him for a while. A very short while."
Ulrich was about to continue, but seeing Bailen's grave expression, he gave a wry smile. The man's eyes were intense, as if he were hearing some secret history.
"It's not the kind of relationship you're thinking of. I'm not one to wander around so carelessly. If I were, Banares would have told you."
Besides, it would have been awkward for both of us, he added.
"...I see."
"Did you think I was your great-grandfather or something?"
"I can't say the thought didn't cross my mind."
Ulrich smiled.
"In that case, how should I address you?"
"Right now, I am Ulrich of Dithmarschen."
Bailen nodded.
The six guests sat back down. An awkward silence hung in the air for a moment. But soon, Bailen let out a short breath and brought up the reason for their visit—the topic that had started their conversation.
"There's nothing more I need to reveal about myself, I presume?"
"Didn't you just reveal that Banares was your grandfather?"
Roberta furrowed her brow as she listened to the conversation.
Bailen, he revealed it himself. Banares was a man from hundreds of years before Ulrich became the lord of Dithmarschen. To have such a man as a grandfather, how old must he be?
Until now, she had only seen one human who could live—no, who claimed to live—for so long. And now there were two?
"A human with the blood of a dragon. It's been a long time."
Except, the other one wasn't human.
She only realized it after hearing Ulrich's murmur.
"What do you plan to do when you meet Narvakayani?"
"Well. For now, I'd like to talk."
Talk? Roberta tilted her head. It seemed like a modest goal for someone willing to risk the dangers of entering the Ice Peninsula. Bailen glanced at her and spoke.
"It's only natural that you wouldn't understand."
Then he looked at Ulrich and asked, "Isn't that right?"
"You don't seem to have a family of your own."
"I've had a few wives, but... you know how it is."
"I see," Ulrich said, lifting his teacup again. As he gently swirled the tea, he began to explain for Roberta, who hadn't understood their exchange.
"Roberta. A half-elf is a Gallua, a half-dwarf is a Mannium, and there are many other terms for mixed blood. Do you know what the offspring of a human and a dragon is called?"
Roberta shook her head, indicating she didn't know.
"Is there such a word?"
"I don't know either. Because it probably never existed in the first place."
Never existed?
"What do you mean?"
"A word to describe a group can only be created if there is a group. But dragons do not form groups, and the offspring of dragons cannot create groups."
Just as she was about to ask why, Bailen answered first.
"Because we are mules."
He smiled. It was a bitter smile.
"Priest, a mule cannot produce offspring. We—no, I—can only remain an individual, even if I wish to form a group. It is as if, as punishment for that arrogant race choosing self-destruction, the same fate was given to their descendants."
He continued, saying that humans were strange creatures.
"They are animals that wish to stand above all and enjoy everything alone, yet at the same time are bound to all. And they are strangely obsessed with bloodlines. Even if rules bind others together and call them family, the heart still asks if they are of my blood."
Bailen tilted his teacup.
His face contorted, but Roberta knew it wasn't because of the pine flower tea's aroma. Even as he grimaced, there was a subtle smile on his lips.
"But I am a mule, and my mother turned to dust hundreds of years ago. Her siblings, and even the clan that was once close, are now more distant to me than strangers."
He looked at Ulrich and asked.
"You understand, don't you? What I'm saying."
Ulrich didn't answer, only tilting his teacup.
"Some might envy the blood that flows in my veins. Galluas and Manniums struggle to live past three hundred years, but I am destined for a life as long as an elf's. But what good is that? When there is nothing I can leave behind in this world."
"Bloodlines aren't the only thing you can leave behind."
"Perhaps."
He smiled at Ulrich.
"It is because you are as you are that we still exist."
"Bailen."
"But I am different. I am not as strong as you."
"And if you meet him? Do you think that will resolve what's in your heart? You're wrong. You are human. Dragons are a race that does not form groups. How do you think one would treat a human, who is not even one of its own kind?"
The two men met each other's gaze and fell silent.
It was Ulrich who broke the ensuing silence.
"I see."
Roberta looked at the lord with a surprised expression.
"You intend to become incomplete?"
He was frowning. Not a deep frown, but a subtle crease that a stranger might not have noticed.
But she had never seen him make even such an expression before.
"I thought you would know."
Bailen leaned forward in his seat, clasped his hands respectfully, and spoke to Ulrich.
"That is why I am searching for Narvakayani, my father. I have never seen him, but he remembers my mother, and his blood flows within me."
"..."
"Ulrich—no, Laurent. Will you not help me? Just as you helped my grandfather... please, have mercy on me. From what I have heard of you, what could be impossible?"
Ulrich leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.
"Roberta, have you grown accustomed to the cold?"
"Yes. To some extent."
"Then it won't be easy."
The question was clear. The lord was asking her. He would be the guide, but would she go with him?
"..."
She turned her gaze to the drawing room window.
It was not yet noon. In the distance, through the window, she could see a massive, gloomy, cloud-covered mountain. Visible even from this far away, it was a ridge of the Caldorekai, the mountain range that crossed the Ice Peninsula.
If she went with him, she would have to cross it.
Could I cross it? And what happens after?
The monsters the lord had shown her would be waiting. Honestly, she didn't want to go. It wasn't a priest's duty, and it was incredibly dangerous.
But she told Ulrich that she would go.
Why? She couldn't say for certain. Being near this strange lord sometimes made her act unlike herself. And this just happened to be one of those times.
"Go to Bernhard and tell him to prepare. You'll need to dress warmly. It's a truly cold place."
Ulrich rose from his seat and immediately called a servant, ordering them to pack for a journey. Roberta followed him, turning to leave the drawing room.