episode_0143

“Then let’s leave it at this! It’s a shame I can’t stand beside everyone to fight… But those left behind must have their own way of fighting!”

The council president cheerfully brushed aside my concerns in an instant. Once caught in her rhythm, all I could do was nod along with whatever she said.

What was I even supposed to say in response to something like that? Once she got going, the president was unstoppable—like splitting bamboo with a single blow.

“The search parties for the artifacts will be this size… As for additional upper council dispatches, I’ll convince Father…”

Not that any of this was unhelpful to me. Even if she was still just an heir, the influence the president could wield within the upper council was nothing to scoff at. She could help track down artifacts I needed but had given up on due to distance, or even ones I hadn’t dared pursue. She could even assist in locating certain elusive eccentrics known only through rumors.

That things I could never manage alone were being resolved so swiftly was nothing short of astonishing.

“You have my respect!”

Of course, I wasn’t against seeking help from the entire Hero Party. The imperial princess, Grave, or the heirs of the Rurstahl family wouldn’t fall short compared to the successor of the Saiath Trading Company. But they were already tied up with my training and expeditions, and it was hard to ignore the risk of someone noticing their movements and growing suspicious. In that sense, Elia’s advice had provided me with the perfect collaborator.

That said, it wasn’t as though the president was entirely free from danger.

“But, President, are you really sure about this? No matter how few people you dispatch, there’s no such thing as a perfect secret. If things go wrong, you could end up in danger instead.”

“Hmm! I’ve already steeled myself for that. How could I stand idly by as my juniors and comrades walk the thorny path of fighting the Demon King? And even if I’m exposed, I’ll ensure no harm comes to you or Father. So, Eric, don’t worry—just focus your all on changing that dreadful prophecy!”

In a way, what the president was doing amounted to walking a treacherous path—one where she could fall even before battle with the Demon King properly began—without demanding anything in return.

“You could di— No, saying that would be pointless anyway.”

After all, if Rin Saiath, the woman she was, was confronted with her own mortality, she’d only redouble her efforts to find ways to save as many people as possible before then.

Even Elia, who had pulled the president into this, seemed to feel a pang of conscience and stepped carefully into the conversation.

“President Saiath, I have a proposal.”

“A proposal?”

“Yes. How about formally joining the Empire’s jurisdiction? The current headquarters of Saiath Trading Company is neutral, correct? As far as I know, its location isn’t affiliated with any nation.”

“As you say, the island where Father resides is small. I can’t disclose its exact location! But I must refuse becoming an imperial-affiliated merchant house.”

“Why not?”

“Do you truly not understand the foundation that allowed Saiath Trading Company to grow as it has?”

Cecilia, who had been quietly listening to our conversation, cut in. Come to think of it, these three hadn’t uttered a word while I talked with the president. The president’s death had been anything but a forgettable event for them, so how had they stayed silent?

“Saiath Trading Company prides itself on neutrality. There were times we even refused sales to uphold that principle. It’s precisely because of that conviction that merchants trust us. If our company suddenly pledged allegiance to a single nation, other countries would be overjoyed.”

“Not to mention, if we became an imperial company, other nobles wouldn’t sit quietly. Even if we don’t care, other families would leap at the chance—they’d consider it the birth of a new great house.”

“……”

Elia quietly stepped back. She must have realized as much. Still, she brought it up because she genuinely wanted to protect the president.

“President. You must understand—right now, there’s little we can do for you in return. But if anything comes to mind, please tell us. We’ll do our best as long as it doesn’t interfere with the fight against the Demon King.”

Even if she asked for something arduous, it would pale in comparison to her help. Thanks to her, my options had effectively doubled. So, even if her request was a bit unreasonable, I’d have to humor her.

I turned to glance at the others, and they all gave small nods. Agreement secured.

“A request, then?”

“There’s no need to overthink it. Frankly, we’re not in a position to fulfill anything grand right now. Just let us know what we can do for you at this moment. And if we all survive, we’ll grant you anything then.”

“Haha! False promises are unbecoming. But very well, a request it is. I suppose I’m entitled to that much. Hmm…”

At best, I assumed she’d ask for help sorting documents, urge us not to slack off in preparing Fendt Festival, or request additional funding. Requests like those—tedious and bothersome, but hardly monumental compared to her own work.

Yet what she asked for was entirely different.

“Eric.”

“Yes?”

“Call me casually, like back in first year!”

“Casually… Huh?”

“Why so surprised? The Eric Grave of first year wouldn’t have been this timid, always reading the room! If you’re preparing to fight the Demon King, I’d much prefer the old you. Back when you’d follow me around calling me ‘Senior Rin’ with every little thing!”

“That’s an odd thing to say, President. I—”

“You shone brighter as a first-year. Back then, you were…”

“Because I was desperate to make you president. Yes, I remember—no need to elaborate further.”

Damn it. I didn’t expect this kind of request here. The past the president—no, Senior Rin—just dredged up was my darkest disgrace among disgraces. A secret history unknown even to the other four, one I’d never felt the need to share.

Indeed, the other four wore expressions of complete bewilderment. But there was more than just curiosity in their eyes.

“Sigh… President. No, Senior Rin. Could you at least try to consider others’ feelings? You can just drop a bomb and leave, but I’m the one who has to clean up the mess.”

“But you’re the one who approached me in secret back then, insisting you could help—”

“Enough. I’ll explain it myself.”

No helping it. Better to confess voluntarily than have my past dragged out by force.

“Eric. We’d appreciate an explanation.”

“I’d like to hear too. Eric, just what were you up to last year?”

“……”

Luciella didn’t speak—she simply stared. Which, in its own way, was even more terrifying.

Even though I promised to explain, why were they making such faces?

“It’s a long story. The reason I never told you is just because it’s embarrassing—and it’s not particularly interesting or pleasant to revisit. Still want to hear it?”

“We know almost nothing about your first-year self. The name ‘Eric Grave’ only began circulating widely this semester.”

“Last year, we only knew the Grave family’s child had enrolled. I didn’t approach you, especially with the academy restless due to His Majesty’s health.”

Right. If not for that, I wouldn’t have done such stupid things.

“If it happened in your first year, then your parents were still in the country, right? If you did anything suspicious, they would’ve been notified without fail. Yet I knew nothing—which means whatever you did with the president was kept secret, just between you two?”

“…Among the candidates back then, the current president wasn’t lacking—but neither was she exceptional. Yet on election day, she was the sole candidate remaining.”

“‘Not exceptional’? That’s quite harsh!”

“I’m just stating facts.”

Thud.

I slumped into a nearby chair.

“Ask away. I’ll answer whatever you want.”

What followed was an endless barrage of questions. And amidst that relentless firing squad, my heart wept silently—a small, secret sorrow.