Episode 21

“Wait, wait, wait!? It’s me!”

“Hold it right there! That level of mana is no joke!”

“Do you think there’s an idiot who cracks jokes at a robber? I’ll at least praise you for attacking head-on.”

The two instantly gathered mana—not to attack, but to defend themselves.

“That feeble mana… You’re the Sage’s subordinates.”

“And you are… Honestly, stop judging people by their mana.”

“For real. Who starts a fight at a reunion?”

“Hah. Do you seriously think a ‘fight’ could exist between me and the likes of you?”

The pressure radiating from Zeke dissipated. They patted their chests in relief, thinking they could finally have a calm conversation.

“…I thought you might have mellowed a little. Well, never mind.”

“So he’s still a kid in that sense.”

With someone as insolent as Zeke, a clash wouldn’t be strange—but the two understood his character. Three years ago, though brief, they had explored an uncharted dungeon together, and he had saved them in a pinch.

They knew the kindness toward others hidden behind his words and deeds.

“You’re using me to kill time? You’ve gotten pretty important.”

“Of course not. We wouldn’t have come here… without a reason.”

They held no ill will toward Zeke himself—but his father, the Lagias lord, was another matter. Fool, the lordly noble whose dark rumors never ceased.

As a kingdom knight and kingdom mage respectively, they regularly heard such talk… and in recent years, not only about the man himself but increasingly about his son as well.

“This season must keep ‘the lord’ busy.”

“I am… not the lord. We don’t share every thought.”

“…That was a touchy subject… My apologies.”

Thinking of a father maligned by the public, perhaps it wasn’t something to bring up. Marcus felt the mood turn a bit damp, but Hiroto didn’t care in the least.

He wanted to say, Don’t lump me with him—but who knew where ears might be? If careless talk reached Fool, it would be a pain, so he didn’t openly deny it.

“Still, as a father he must be proud. You’re the youngest, after all.”

“Yeah, I hear you keep taking down big game. Adventurer friends talk about it.”

“Spare me the sycophancy… There are heaps of people at the same rank. Go flatter them.”

Adventuring was only a means to raise funds efficiently; he had no attachment to status or fame. He even found it obnoxious how the Lagias couple strutted around as if his achievements were theirs.

“Humble, huh? No—coming from you, it’s just snide.”

“A-rank adventurers are few enough to count on one hand. Fix that attitude—people call you the ‘Lagias Brat’ for a reason. …B-rank is impressive in itself, of course.”

“Pathetic. And you’re a kingdom knight and a kingdom mage? Can’t even gather information? I’m B-rank.”

Zeke spat that he didn’t care about the Association’s evaluations anyway.

“…Hm? This isn’t matching up. You were promoted to A-rank just the other day.”

“That news reached the royal capital. I’d like to catch that wave myself.”

“…Huh? What are you talking about?”

As Marcus said, something didn’t line up. He believed he was B-rank, yet they didn’t look like they were lying—nor had a reason to.

“The Astera Ducal House’s recommendation is the biggest factor. …We heard about Apion. That’s why we came.”

Zeke’s face went completely blank. Normally he wore a vaguely displeased look; now even that was gone—his emotions had vanished.

“I see… So they’ve decided to pick a fight with me.”

“Hey! Why the killing intent all of a sudden!?”

He cursed inwardly. An A-rank promotion wasn’t decided by strength alone. It required many achievements, an outstanding character, and recommendations from multiple branch chiefs.

Zeke only cleared the achievements part; the rest were hopeless. He’d written it off as irrelevant—and yet, behind his back, he’d been promoted. It wasn’t hard to imagine the ducal house—Ciel’s brother—had a hand in it.

“From that reaction… you didn’t know? Normally, with a special case like this, there’d be a meeting with all stakeholders…”

He hadn’t been “not invited.” The Adventurers Association had contacted him repeatedly—but every letter had been frozen and shattered.

“I’ll deal with that conniver. He won’t get away with this.”

“…I didn’t hear a thing.”

They moved to the receiving room. Continuing like that would only raise blood pressure. When they changed venues, tea was already set out—competent servants indeed.

“Tea, pastries, and these dishes—everything’s high-end.”

“Can’t tell what’s what, but it’s fancy.”

“Enough of that. State your business.”

Usually he’d toss out a jab or two, but now he wanted to hear them first. Kingdom men had come all the way to Lagias Manor—never a good sign.

“As we said, it’s about Apion. The kingdom takes this very seriously.”

From Marcus’s tone, the information had been passed on; Ciel and her people had done their duty.

“Nice spin. You tried to suppress the information at first… Makes me sick.”

“…Don’t say reckless things. People differ; so do their judgments.”

As Zeke said, the crown initially restricted information to prevent chaos from rumors. From another angle, it looked like concealing inconvenient facts. —At least, in the game, nothing like this had surfaced.

“Everyone in Apion knows by now. No way to hide it. And the suspect being caught is huge.”

That was the big difference from the game.

Perhaps Apion’s uproar existed as backstory or a side story: somehow, Ciel awakened to holy arts there—but the culprit wasn’t caught. In the end, with no identified cause, the information was buried—that could have been the flow.

Aides like Golton or Stille never appeared in the work; Apion itself didn’t either.

“He probably won’t talk freely… but there are ways.”

The scenario might have diverged. The two before him were prime examples—Granz’s subordinates had all died in the game.

“Hmph. I doubt it’ll go that conveniently.”

“True enough. …Even so, your merit is great. This wasn’t something that could go public. Ordinarily, you’d be due a medal.”

They had to honor him somehow; the rank promotion was likely that “somehow.”

“Busybody… I should’ve dumped it all on that woman.”

“So you know her after all? I hear her position was complicated… and now it’s gotten even more complicated.”

The ducal house’s awkward figure had suddenly surged to prominence. Rumor even called her the goddess who saved Apion.

“We’re off-topic. The force to topple a city with a curse isn’t something to take lightly… It’s likely not a lone actor but an organization behind them. And now—the Lords’ Council.”

For a split second he drew a blank, then recalled Fool mentioning it.

“It’s been years since all the lords gathered.”

It wasn’t because of the incident; it had been scheduled. Neighboring domains held regular talks, but an all-domain council meant big agenda items.

“The lords everywhere must be scrambling—prepping with each other and currying favor with other nobles.”

So that’s why they came now—betting the lord would be away.

“The Etra lord suffered from the Apion chaos, too. With the enemy’s aim unknown, the council could be a target.”

If someone wanted their main figures in one place, nothing beat this.

“It’ll be in the royal capital. Formally, His Majesty attends the opening. …You know where this is going.”

“The ducal house rates the kid. Knights and mages know about the dungeon survey. With the A-rank adventurer title, the kingdom can easily rope in the Adventurers Association.”

Layers upon layers of setup. He could dismiss it as nonsense—but Hiroto couldn’t. If he refused, it would get back to Fool and smear his face.

Hiroto didn’t care about Fool’s “face,” but it would surely breed resentment and future trouble.

Misunderstandings aside, they clearly knew what would nettle him.

“…Heh.”

“…Why the creepy laugh?”

Zeke quietly laughed as if restraining himself. To the two, his smile looked eerie.

“Never been mocked this hard. …Now then, what shall I do?”

He smiled like he was enjoying it, but to others it was anything but funny—he looked like a villain hatching a plot.

“Fine. Guard duty or whatever—you’ll have it. …If you’re moving me, you’ll pay the price.”

“The change began about three years ago… did it?”

Ciel’s half-brother, Aktor, continued to investigate Zeke’s circumstances.

The Astera Ducal House, also the kingdom’s intelligence arm, had long investigated the House of Lagias. The Lagias lord was infamous for excessive taxation; dark rumors flowed in without effort. They kept regular watch for another reason as well.

In the process they had looked into Zeke, but he’d been nothing of note—just the son of Fool, a man who inherited his parents’ strong supremacist beliefs.

“…Will he readily accept a guard request?”

“He will. …And we’ve already sent the request to the Lagias lord.”

Whatever his other relationships, he was apparently dutiful to his parents. Hence they judged he would move as planned.

(It could earn us a harsh backlash, but…)

“Keep the surveillance going. Don’t miss a single move he makes while on guard.”

The kingdom had faced a crisis that could have shaken it to its core. Normally, that should be the focus—but Aktor wouldn’t leave it there.

Call it a kind of intuition. Something whispered to him: Do not take your eyes off Zeke Lagias.

“Haaaah!”

A brown-haired boy took his stance and gathered mana. As power built, it grew hot and reddened.

“This time for sure!”

Heat rippled out from him; heat haze shimmered.

At last the refined mana converged and flowed into his sword—sign of activation.

“Go—!”

He swung with all his might… and the mana dispersed, leaving stillness. It seemed he had failed.

“Damn it! Why won’t it work…?”

“Fooooool! How many times must I say it? You keep thinking about nonsense!”

“I—I wasn’t—”

“…Why the rush over someone you haven’t even met? If you’ve time to fret, swing your sword, idiot.”

Bull’s-eye—the boy faltered. He’d tried not to voice it, but having another point it out made it clear within.

Drenched in nostalgia, his awareness rose toward waking. He remembered three years ago.

(A dream… He used to yell at me a lot.)

He still wasn’t fully grown, but he felt he’d improved. He intended to become strong enough to protect everyone.

(So I’m separate from Dad’s group… Since I’m here, I should buy souvenirs in the royal capital.)

He was moving independently because dealings were scheduled there.

He wasn’t good at business—rather, he wasn’t entrusted with it—but he was used to guarding.

The members of the trading company were like family. He would protect them.

The brown-haired boy on the cusp of youth—kidlike airs fading, perhaps a calmer presence now, or so he thought.

Van Freak, the protagonist of Wish Soul, was about to head for the royal capital.

The story moved on, tangled in many designs.