Chapter 5: Test (1)

A package arrived at my room. Inside was a single enclosed letter.

[You’d better be right.]

Scary, Quinier.

The third-years would soon be taking part in Professional Work Experience. That was when the monster from the Outside I had warned her about would arrive.

I had explained in detail when it would come, its weaknesses, and how to deal with it, so the damage shouldn’t be too severe.

... For an attack by a monster from the Outside, that is.

I checked the package’s contents.

First, a ring set with a gleaming blue gemstone.

[Biet Trading Company’s Magic Ring]

? Grade: Rare

? Description: A high-end ring handled by the Biet Trading Company.

? Trait: Slightly increases the wearer’s total mana.

If my guess was right, the gemstone was a sapphire.

In Etius, the maker decided what effects an accessory would have, but the type of metal generally had a major influence on its stats.

The most important thing was color.

The redder the gemstone, the more it increased strength or stamina, stats needed by combat classes. The bluer it was, the more it increased mana or intelligence. Green enhanced dynamic vision, reflexes, and speed, while other colors were left to the maker’s discretion.

Sapphire was a blue gemstone, and a particularly expensive choice for mana accessories. It would make a very meaningful contribution to increasing my mana.

I immediately slipped it onto my index finger. Before I put it on, the ring had looked far too big for my finger, but once on, it fit perfectly. It was like an optical illusion.

Then there was one more thing—the one I was most excited about.

An artifact to store Black River.

I had given Quinier the terribly vague requirement that it should be easy to put water into it and take it out.

I was counting on her good judgment.

“Is this it?”

I opened the box, felt something in my hand, and lifted it out.

“... What is this?”

A long metal chain. A small gemstone enclosed in an elegant setting.

What I was looking at was a necklace.

It was certainly beautiful and luxurious. The black gemstone probably reflected my requirement that its interior not be visible.

I liked both the design and how she had accommodated that request.

... But this thing.

“How am I supposed to put Black River in here?”

* * *

Teibeon, a frontier region of the Terst Empire.

It lay on the opposite side of the empire from Yeranhes, the territory defended by Ampere, head of the Roach family.

Teibeon was House Urpa’s territory, and the head of that house was Lidwe Urpa.

“Right, then. How many dead and injured?”

“Eleven dead, approximately thirty injured. Those numbers are extremely low for an incident caused by a monster from the Outside.”

“Hmm. Well, that’s a relief.”

Lidwe sat in his carriage, listening to the report.

Constel’s third-years had been scheduled for Professional Work Experience in the Teibeon region.

It was a regular Constel assignment: observing professionals on their missions and, where possible, doing some simple practical work themselves.

But apparently, a monster from the Outside had invaded the area where they had been assigned.

“What kind of monster?”

“A Black Werewolf. We suspect it became separated from its pack.”

“... And they stopped it with only eleven dead?”

Lidwe was astonished.

There was nothing pleasant about people dying, but a death toll far lower than he had imagined was certainly a relief.

Werewolves, being based on wolves, lived in packs. In a pack, they hunted prey aggressively, but when one became separated, it turned extraordinarily furtive.

With their companions, they acted like fearless warriors; alone, they suddenly became assassins.

Black Werewolves were especially insidious, making them harder to deal with when alone.

All the more so if they came from the Outside.

“Someone anticipated the attack and stopped it. I’m told they also identified the Outside Black Werewolf’s weaknesses and responded quickly and efficiently.”

“Oh? Who?”

“Meet her for yourself. We’ve arrived.”

The carriage stopped, and Lidwe stepped out.

The scene was still bustling with people transporting the injured and identifying the dead.

Following his subordinate’s guidance, he came upon a familiar face.

“Well, if it isn’t the Head of the Biet Family.”

Lidwe regarded Quinier de Biet with interest.

Come to think of it, she was a student at Constel.

He so often met her as one family head to another that moments like these made her youth especially striking.

“... You’re here, Lidwe Urpa.”

Quinier did not look well as she greeted him.

With her fan covering her mouth, she was plainly struggling to hold back her revulsion.

“What’s with that face? I hear it’s thanks to you the losses weren’t worse.”

“... Yes. Thanks to me, eleven people died.”

Her words were self-mocking.

The corner of Lidwe’s eye twitched.

“Quinier, have you still not gotten better?”

“... You make it sound as though time will fix it.”

“You did well. Far more people could have died. You prevented that. Be proud of yourself.”

“... Yes.”

Quinier did not feel much better, but she believed Lidwe was right.

She had done her best. Even if she went back in time, she probably couldn’t have handled it any better.

‘... And even then, eleven people died.’

Quinier recalled what Frondier had told her.

Every piece of information he had given her was correct: the identity of the monster from the Outside, its weaknesses, even its habits.

She had passed this information to the professionals beforehand to minimize the losses.

Ideally, she would have canceled this work experience session altogether.

But information with little supporting evidence was never persuasive.

The professionals had listened to her and judged it a possibility, but they couldn’t cancel the entire schedule.

They had taken that many precautions, yet suffered that many casualties.

[“You don’t like people dying, do you?”]

Frondier’s voice lingered in her ears.

More than any information Frondier had given her, that was the one thing Quinier had least wanted him to discover. Yet he had known it from the beginning.

Judging by his timing and tone, it had been anything but an idle remark.

Frondier clearly knew of that weakness of hers, something close to a phobia.

‘I should count myself lucky.’

Frondier had not used that knowledge to demand anything of her. There had been no threats.

Only a fair exchange.

He had given her information about a monster from the Outside, and she had compensated him accordingly.

That probably meant Frondier, too, wanted a good relationship with her.

‘Frondier. It’s hard to put a price on you.’

Quinier had a habit of judging everything in monetary terms. That habit applied to people as well.

She believed that assigning someone their proper value was the fairest way to treat them.

That was why Frondier occupied her thoughts so much.

The fake Mistilteinn incident.

His series of actions in the dungeon.

And the information he offered her.

None of it was clear. Everything was shrouded in fog.

“This must be hard for you to watch. Why not go somewhere and rest?”

Seeing her expression, Lidwe assumed the bodies were distressing her.

He was one of the few people who knew her weakness.

That also meant he was the only one here who could show her such consideration, but Quinier shook her head.

“No. I am the head of the Biet Family.”

That was right. She was the head of the Biet Family.

Quinier, the “Little Devil” who had revived her family while still a student.

Her instincts as a family head were sounding an alarm.

It was her intuition about Frondier that was ringing that alarm.

* * *

A few days later, inside a luxury sedan.

“Elodie, are you listening? Elodie?”

“... Oh, yes. Sorry, Dad.”

“Just a reminder: once we arrive at the Roah Estate, call me ‘Father.’”

“If you’re worried about things like that, you could have brought my brother.”

“If I brought your brother, he’d only pick another fight with Frondier. You know that.”

Elodie let out a deep sigh at Ortel’s words. She had been looking out the window the entire journey.

She and Ortel were on their way to the Roah Estate.

The two prestigious families had long been friendly, and often met like this to maintain their ties.

Both had many enemies, making such public activities important. Showing the friendship between two powerful, distinguished families discouraged other houses from getting any ideas.

“You seem unusually distracted. Is something on your mind?”

“... Yes, a little.”

Just as she said, Elodie had been lost in thought until a moment ago.

What she had recently seen and heard of Frondier’s actions was strange.

He still looked as languid and sleepy as ever.

Yet from the Mistilteinn incident to the dungeon expedition a few days ago, something was different.

Aster seemed to think rather highly of Frondier, too.

[“I’ll put your worries to rest.”]

Frondier had told Aster that. And he had done exactly that.

In other words, Frondier had known the Mistilteinn was fake before actually seeing it.

‘How?’

There was only one answer.

‘Frondier knows Mistilteinn’s true form.’

She had thought he was bluffing, but now she had no choice but to believe his claim was true. Yet if it was true, that raised another problem.

How could a human learn about Mistilteinn? How could someone know the appearance of Mistilteinn, which no human had ever seen?

‘... Does Frondier have Divine Power?’

One of the gods had shown Mistilteinn to Frondier in person. Naturally, he would know its shape then.

As far as Elodie knew, there was no other possibility.

... One thought led endlessly to another.

Assuming it was true that Frondier had Divine Power, what did that make all his behavior until now?

Divine Power was usually determined at birth.

The gods had already chosen those they would love.

That meant Frondier, too, had most likely possessed Divine Power from the beginning.

She had believed Frondier behaved so lazily because he had neither Divine Power nor talent.

But what if he had possessed Divine Power all along?

That assumption fell apart entirely.

‘Was there a hidden purpose behind Frondier’s laziness...?’

Frondier with Divine Power.

If he had Divine Power, even a lack of talent for combat wouldn’t be a major problem. At this point, she wasn’t even sure he truly lacked talent.

It was only speculation, but he might have deliberately pretended to be lazy.

Then, for some reason, he had stopped...

“Dad.”

“Ahem.”

“We’re not there yet.”

“Still, you should start getting used to saying it.”

“Yes, yes, Father. Is there anything about Frondier I haven’t heard?”

Ortel tilted his head, apparently not quite understanding her question.

“Hmm? What do you mean, haven’t heard?”

“People at Constel are saying Frondier’s been a little less lazy lately. I wondered if there was a reason.”

“Oh, Ampere told me about that. Apparently, he told him to place in the top ten overall in his year. Threatened to disown him if he failed.”

Elodie nodded, then sank briefly into thought again.

Top ten overall in his year. Disowned if he failed.

Had he simply not wanted to be disowned?

... No.

[“There’s nothing I can do. It’s my own fault, and I can’t undo it.”]

There had been no regret on Frondier’s face when he said that.

Though he called it his own fault, he hadn’t seemed to truly believe he had done anything wrong.

As though the wrongdoing had been deliberate. As though he had accepted that there would be no undoing it.

“We’re here.”

A moment later, the car stopped, bringing Elodie’s thoughts to an end as well.

They got out and headed toward the Roah Estate.