21

Laika looked not all that different from Kansas’s own daughter. Here and there, that youthfulness showed through. And yet, on the other hand, glimpses of thinking detached from the common world surfaced as well.

It was enough to make even Kansas—who had survived the noble society of the kingdom, that den of demons—feel fear.

“Did you say something, Kansas-san?”

“No, nothing. I was thinking about what to report to the kingdom—just some meaningless muttering.”

But in return, Kansas had learned one more metric for dealing with the sorcerer Ains.

By paying the risk that one wrong answer could have killed him, Kansas had gained something. Using that metric, he could leverage Ains and extract even more benefit.

To Kansas, Ains was a dangerous drug. A medicine and a poison. A double-edged sword.

All that remained was not making a mistake with it.

The sweat that had run down Kansas’s back lingered unpleasantly.

“That’s how it is, Sophia—he’s your junior, okay? Be nice to him.”

“He is someone who picked a fight with Lord Ains and pointed a sword at him, so I still haven’t fully accepted it… But if Lord Ains says so, I will simply obey.”

“For now, Talidge is actually using physical enhancement better than you are, Sophia, so I think there’s a lot you can learn from him.”

“The sword that protects Lord Ains needs only mine!”

With Ains’s casual remark, Sophia’s rivalry toward Talidge flared.

And thus Ains obtained the Marquis Brandy’s approval.

“…I see. So because Ains did me a favor, that’s why I’m here making a fool of myself like this.”

Sophia explained the full sequence of how his treatment and disposition had been decided while Talidge had been asleep in the guest room they had prepared.

It was already late morning, but the only words Talidge had exchanged with Kansas, head of the Brandy house, were a single line: “Do as you like.”

And then Kansas, taking a holy relic as a gift, departed the estate to report the Talidge matter to King Wenceslav.

“Yeah, yeah. Be grateful, Talidge.”

“Hey, Talidge—you left off ‘Lord.’ What do you mean calling Lord Ains by name, the very man who saved your life!?”

“You’re so stiff, woman… I had one like you back in my village too—hard-headed types like that. They always ended up unmarried and treated like a walking nuisance, you know?”

“W-What did you say, Talidge, you bastard!? There are things you can say and things you can’t! For starters, I—”

Sophia’s face burned bright red as she launched into a long-winded lecture, while Talidge listened with an annoyed expression.

Meanwhile, Ains was still clutching his stomach and laughing at Talidge’s mismatched outfit.

Watching the three of them from the side, Laika sighed, thinking yet another strange one had joined the group—Sophia already counted as one of the “strange ones” in her mind.

“…But seriously, that doesn’t suit him at all.”

Riste, standing nearby, agreed.

Laika agonized over it for a while, then realized he wasn’t even her attendant and decided it didn’t matter, abandoning the problem.

The scene shifted to the Sobi estate.

Darius—the arrogant tyrant—was sweating nervously, his eyes full of fear.

Anyone who knew him normally would doubt their eyes and suspect a case of mistaken identity. Yet the slightly cynical look and the seep of unpleasant sarcasm were unmistakably Darius’s—and someone lucky enough to witness this rare sight would likely feel smug satisfaction at his misery.

“Haaah…”

Before the rigidly trembling Darius stood a figure seated in a lavish chair with a window behind him, sunlight pouring in. The figure let out a deep sigh.

That alone made Darius flinch and his shoulders jerk.

“Darius… the attendant I assigned you… what was his name again?”

“It was Talidge, Father.”

“Right. Talidge. Even if I assigned him to you, he was still a man who served the Sobi house. This incident cannot be overlooked as merely your personal matter—it is the Sobi house’s matter.”

The man who had been silently reading a letter written on fine, carefully made paper was Zoin Sobi—Darius Sobi’s father, the current head of the Sobi marquessate, and a formidable figure said to hold power in the underworld stronger than even royalty.

“Having an attendant taken… and by the Brandy house, no less. If I allow this, I and our predecessors will have no standing left. That is why I filed a complaint to King Wenceslav.”

Zoin let out another sigh, then fluttered the fine letter he’d read, showing it to Darius. It was a single sheet.

Darius could not clearly make out the contents, but the text on it was short.

“And yet, why does a royal edict end up coming to me like this? Hmm?”

There was no irritation in Zoin’s words—he spoke as though voicing a simple question.

But even those words filled Darius with fear. In the first place, the moment Darius had been summoned to his father’s study, he had been trembling in terror. Experience had already conditioned him completely.

“It says this: accept the current situation regarding the attendant Talidge unconditionally. If it were only the king’s signature, I would press back. But Lizelotte-dono’s signature is here as well. Do you understand what that means, Darius? Hmm?”

“…!”

“You don’t. You didn’t understand, and I hesitated as well—so this is where we’ve ended up. Do you understand what I’m saying, Darius? Answer.”

Zoin spoke evenly, without raising his voice—like ordinary conversation.

He did not furrow his brow; if anything, his face was so calm it almost felt gentle.

“…I have stained the noble name of the Sobi house, Father. To wash away this disgrace, I will—”

“Haaah… Darius, that’s not it.”

Zoin slowly, almost theatrically, shook his head several times, cutting Darius off as he continued.

Darius’s eyes wavered anxiously at Zoin’s every movement.

“Darius. In everything tied to this incident, you misjudged the value.”

Zoin rose slowly and looked toward the window behind him.

The sun visible through the glass was high—warm enough that one would sweat if they stood by the window.

The royal edict in Zoin’s hand burned without any incantation, and the ash fluttered down onto the freshly replaced carpet.

Surely Zoin would replace the study carpet again over something like this. But he did not care about such trivialities.

“What Lizelotte-dono’s name on that edict means is this: not only will the king refuse to listen to my opinion no matter how hard I press, but if I press further, he will crush our house. That is the threat.”

Me—the current head of the Sobi house, a long-established noble line, Zoin thought, and smiled coldly.

“In other words, the Brandy house was judged to be a threat greater than making an enemy of the Sobi house and the kingdom’s underworld. There will be no concession for us here. And put another way—Kansas of the Brandy house has obtained that threat.”

So what is that threat? Zoin turned his back to Darius, closed the curtains, and blocked the sunlight.

“It’s Talidge. No—more precisely, what he is entangled with.”

“T-The holy relic…?”

Darius answered in a voice hoarse with fear.

Talidge had ended his duel with Ains in a draw, but by any honest measure it had not been an even match. All that remained was the result: as a swordsman, the Sobi house’s attendant had been outmatched by the Brandy house’s attendant.

As a means to recover, there was the holy relic Talidge had found in the slums—something he was supposed to have brought back to Darius.

A holy relic that generated mana without limit. In the Santia Kingdom, it was extremely rare. Depending on how it was used, it could possess ample political value beyond mere monetary worth.

With the sunlight shut out, the dim room held only two people—Zoin, head of the Sobi house, and his son Darius.

The study was far too large for just the two of them.

Every piece of furniture felt cold to Darius.