Chapter 91 – The Ice Duke’s Mindset (2)

If someone were to ask me to describe Lehel Darard, I wouldn’t hesitate.

Eccentric.

Perhaps even…unhinged.

Beyond her palindromic name, her erratic thought processes, volatile personality, and unconventional lifestyle painted a portrait of a woman teetering on the edge of madness.

And that was before factoring in her crippling gambling addiction.

While others maintained a semblance of composure even in dire situations, Lehel seemed perpetually detached, her reactions ranging from inappropriate levity to inexplicable bouts of…disrobing. She was, to put it mildly, a walking HR violation.

Not exactly someone you’d want in your inner circle. Yet, despite her numerous quirks, I couldn’t bring myself to dislike her.

She was surprisingly compliant, and in crucial moments, she possessed a remarkable clarity of purpose.

And, let’s be honest, her Warp Gate magic was invaluable. She was my teleportation shuttle, my…business partner.

The academy store wouldn’t have flourished without her.

Which is why I felt compelled to address her gambling problem. One small step at a time.

***

“I’d like this hairpin, please.”

I stood in Luchopard, the jewelry store I’d frequented recently, pointing at a delicate silver hairpin. I winced internally as I paid, the exorbitant price a painful but necessary sacrifice.

The clerk, her face a mask of polite disdain, handed me the packaged item. “Oh my, weren’t you the gentleman who purchased two rings recently? Your…companions…must be quite spoiled.”

“This is for someone else.”

“…Utterly depraved,” she muttered under her breath as I turned to leave.

***

My next stop: the Headmaster’s office.

As expected, Lehel was glued to her crystal orb, engrossed in the latest Battle of the Monsters tournament. She jumped to her feet as I entered, her greeting overly enthusiastic, bordering on sycophantic.

“Boss! What a pleasant surprise! To what do I owe the honor?”

The level of deference was…unsettling. To think I, a mere store owner, would receive such obsequiousness from one of Pennheim’s five Archdukes, the Reincarnation Duke, herself.

Emboldened by the absurdity of the situation, I casually tossed the Magic Cube I’d borrowed from Liv onto her desk. It landed with a satisfying thud.

“Listen up, Headmaster.”

“Yes?”

“I’m looking to expand the store’s inventory…”

Her eyes widened as she recognized the cube, her demeanor shifting instantly from obsequiousness to theatrical despair.

“No! Not my precious cash cow! Without these, how will I feed my beloved Grand Canyon?!”

“You’ll give me a good price, right? We’re practically family.”

“Please! Have mercy! Anything but this!”

“Where’s the contract? Should I accompany you to the tower? Excellent. Let’s get this show on the road.”

“Waaah! You monster!”

That was enough theatrics for one day.

After a dramatic display of crocodile tears, Lehel’s demeanor shifted again, a mischievous glint returning to her eyes. She patted my shoulder, her tone playful.

“Boss! What’s gotten into you? Are you bored now that it’s summer break?”

“…”

“You rejected my invitation to join our gambling expedition. See? You need me! These youngsters, so obsessed with their careers and grades, they don’t know how to truly live.”

“…”

“Boss…?”

She sensed a shift in my demeanor, her hand reaching out, her touch surprisingly gentle. I captured her hand, wrapping my arm around her shoulder, pressing her against the wall, a move reminiscent of the back-alley bullies of my youth.

“What are you doing? We need to go.”

“Go? Go where?”

“You heard me. Even if you designed these Magic Cubes, the tower controls distribution. We need a contract. I want those cubes in my store next semester.”

“Oh…oh…”

The blood drained from her face, her already pale complexion turning a sickly shade of white.

I patted her head, my touch now condescending, a silent warning.

“Now, open the portal.”

***

Lehel, having lived far longer than most, had developed a peculiar habit.

She eschewed material possessions.

The items she truly valued were few: a worn medal, a set of robes and a pointed hat, a dragon scale rosary, and a crystal orb for viewing the Battle of the Monsters.

Even in the throes of her gambling addiction, these items remained sacrosanct, never wagered, always retrieved.

Did she fancy herself some kind of aspiring Pirate King?

***

“W-welcome, Tower Master. It’s been a while,” a nervous mage stammered, his eyes darting between Lehel and me.

“Hic! Long time no see…sniff…who are you again?”

“I…I’m Thompson. You granted me access to the upper levels ten years ago…”

“Right, Thompson. Thompson, this is…hic…the…the…store…Boss…contract…”

“I beg your pardon, Tower Master?”

“Con…tract!”

“We’re here to purchase Magic Cubes. Please bring us the contract,” I interjected, saving Thompson the trouble of deciphering Lehel’s incoherent ramblings.

He nodded, his expression a mixture of relief and bewilderment, and led us to the upper levels of the Merak Tower.

“Please wait here. The mage in charge of acquisitions is currently on vacation, but I’ll bring the contract and some refreshments shortly.”

As the door closed behind him, Lehel’s sniffling filled the small, sparsely furnished room.

The Tower Master’s office, located at the pinnacle of the tower, was surprisingly…bare. It resembled an abandoned storage room more than the office of a powerful Archduke. Faded parchments and ancient tomes littered the floor, covered in a thick layer of dust.

I traced a finger across the dusty surface of the desk, my gaze settling on Lehel. She sniffled again, avoiding my eyes.

“So, where’s the doll I asked you to retrieve?”

“T-this one?” She pulled a surprisingly cute teddy bear from beneath her robes.

As I took it, I heard her mutter, “That’s not a doll…I hope you get cursed.”

As expected…

The manufacturer’s label was still attached.

I’d have Bill investigate this later.

“Headmaster.”

“Yes?”

“How much have you gambled recently?”

“J-just a little…!”

“Quantify ‘a little.’”

She sheepishly held up five fingers.

“Fifty gold pieces? The price of one Magic Cube?”

She shook her head.

“Five hundred?”

Another shake.

“Five thousand?”

“Fifty thousand.”

Insane.

Hadn’t Darling paid off eighty thousand gold pieces of her debt just a few weeks ago?

She’d barely made a dent.

Though, considering that eighty thousand was likely just a fraction of her total losses, perhaps fifty thousand represented…restraint?

Still, gambling away such a sum while haggling over the price of fifty-gold Magic Cubes was absurd.

Besides, there were plenty of other markets for Magic Cubes beyond Farencia Academy. Selling a few at a discount to the academy store wouldn’t significantly impact her profits.

“Your hand.”

“Eek!”

She recoiled, trying to hide her arm beneath her robes, but I caught her wrist, pulling her arm into the light.

“I-I was wrong! I swear I’ll never gamble again! Please! Spare me!”

The question was…how to make her quit.

There were no gambling addiction treatment centers in this world, and I wasn’t exactly qualified to provide therapy.

“Perhaps… amputation?”

“Aaaaaah!”

If she weren’t so…useful…I would have gladly removed both her hands, a drastic but effective solution.

This was proving to be a more complex problem than I’d anticipated.

“Alright. Let’s start with the contract.”

“What?”

I considered my options, then, as Thompson returned with the contract and a tray of refreshments, I placed Lehel’s wrist firmly on the desk.

First things first. The contract.

***

“Canyon! My precious! Look how big you’ve grown! Did you miss me?”

“KRAAH!”

The moment the contract was signed, Lehel’s theatrical despair vanished, replaced by her usual manic energy.

Another example of her baffling inconsistency.

Let bygones be bygones. She seemed to possess an almost supernatural ability to move on from past grievances.

In truth, her earlier theatrics were just that—theatrics. Selling a few Magic Cubes at a discount wouldn’t significantly impact her bottom line.

She rarely visited the tower, apparently, so she decided to pay a visit to Grand Canyon while we were here. We descended to the middle levels, where a massive creature, a bizarre hybrid of elephant and rhinoceros, resided.

Lehel showered the beast with affection, stroking its enormous horn.

As I stood behind her, indulging in a cigarette, Thompson approached, offering me a copy of the signed contract.

“Titan Rhinos are quite docile, despite their size. Their horns are highly valued for alchemical purposes, and they have remarkably long lifespans—over two hundred years.”

“Is that so?”

“Indeed. Caring for the tower’s familiars and magical creatures is one of the first tasks assigned to apprentice mages.”

Apparently, Grand Canyon’s lineage had been under the tower’s care for generations. They clearly had a deep affection for these long-lived creatures, a bond that transcended mere ownership.

“You useless beast! Why do you keep losing?! You’re costing me a fortune! Such a spoiled brat!”

“Seeing the Tower Master so…animated…is a rare sight,” Thompson remarked, his tone a mixture of amusement and bewilderment.

“She’s always like this around me.”

“Then you, Louis, must be a truly unique individual.”

Merak Tower, renowned for its Buddhist-infused magic, was home to a surprisingly…detached group of mages.

If my boss was a gambling addict who’d just signed a disadvantageous contract, I’d be pulling my hair out.

“Boss! Over here!”

“She’s calling you.”

Lehel beckoned me over, waving the hand that had narrowly avoided amputation just moments ago.

I extinguished my cigarette and approached. She tugged on my sleeve, pulling me closer to Grand Canyon.

“Isn’t he adorable? This is Grand Canyon, my star contender for the Battle of the Monsters!”

“He’s…imposing.”

“Nonsense! Come closer! Get a good look!”

Like an otter presenting its offspring, she nudged the beast’s massive, smelly head towards me.

Then, as predicted, she glanced at the contract in my hand, then at Grand Canyon, her eyes filled with a silent plea.

“Boss…”

“Just say it.”

“If I…if I should ever…enter the cradle…would you…look after him for me?”

So, that was her angle.

Despite her occasional lapses in judgment, Lehel wasn’t stupid. She knew the precarious nature of her existence.

“This place is secure. The tower survived the Great War unscathed.”

“I know! But…once I fall asleep…who knows what might happen when I wake up?”

I remained silent, and her grip on my sleeve loosened, her voice barely a whisper.

“…Is that a no?”

Alright. How about this?

“Headmaster.”

“Yes?”

“Let’s make a wager.”

“A wager?”

Whether this would cure her addiction remained to be seen, but it was the best I could offer.

Your sword always chooses the optimal path. Wiblet’s envious words echoed in my mind.

“Rock-paper-scissors. If you win, I’ll agree to your request.”

“And if I lose?”

“I claim that precious horn. Oh, and one more condition.” I held up a clenched fist. “I’ll only throw rock.”

“What?! You’re trying to trick me!”

“Believe what you will. I won’t change my move. Ready? Rock, paper…”

“W-wait!”

She hastily threw out her hand as I stoically maintained my rock-solid fist.

The outcome was predictable.

With a sigh of resignation, the Archduke conceded defeat.

“Ha…I lost.”

“…”

“I knew you were bluffing…it’s all part of the mind games…you truly are a natural gambler, Boss.”

Was I? Or was it the opposite?

I’d never heard of Lehel winning a bet. Unless she’d defied astronomical odds to be summoned to this world in the first place, her losses were deliberate.

Perhaps she’d been subconsciously trying to lose all along, a desperate attempt to curb her addiction.

After all, a game you always lose quickly becomes boring.

“Um…I’m sorry for losing, but…could you please reconsider taking Canyon’s horn? You can…you can take my hand instead!”

“Is that so? Then…”

“Eek! No! Take the horn! Please!”

What did she want from me?

***

“Ow! It hurts! It’s coming off! Aaaaaah!”

“Stop being dramatic. Here.”

“What?”

She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable. I placed a small, silver hairpin in her outstretched hand.

Her eyes fluttered open, widening in surprise.

“A gift.”

“What…?”

“And I’ll honor your request.”

“But…I lost.”

“Does it matter?”

I gently tilted her chin upwards, her mouth still agape in stunned silence.

“From now on, you only gamble with me. Nothing too extravagant, but if there’s something you desire…we’ll wager.”

“But…winning and losing…”

“What’s the point? It doesn’t matter who wins.”

“So…”

I understood the weight of promises, perhaps more than anyone. But unless some lunatic managed to topple the entire tower, Grand Canyon would be safe under my care.

Besides, compared to the lucrative deal she’d just handed me, this small gift was a pittance.

“We’re family now, aren’t we? Sharing the spoils. What was the term…joint ownership?”

“J-joint…!”

Darling’s words echoed in my mind.

“Understood?”

Lehel, her face now a mask of crimson, pulled her hat low and nodded vigorously.

“Yes! Absolutely!”

For once, she didn’t argue.

***

“Ah, back to Farencia.”

The return trip was considerably more…leisurely.

We could have used Lehel’s Warp Gate, but for some reason, she’d suggested the mana-powered carriage.

While I preferred the expediency of teleportation, Liv’s words about over-reliance on magic resonated.

So, here I was, standing on the platform with a surprisingly subdued Lehel, waiting for the approaching train, its horn echoing in the distance.

***

“Tickets, please.”

“Here you go.”

“Thank you. Right this way.”

As Lehel passed through the narrow carriage door, her hat momentarily slipped, revealing the silver hairpin I’d given her.

***

We followed the conductor, who led us to our designated compartment. The moment he opened the door, a wave of nausea-inducing stench assaulted our senses.

“Ugh, what is that?”

“It’s not just me, is it? What in the world…?”

We cautiously entered the compartment, pinching our noses. The source of the stench: the four-person booth directly across from our assigned seats.

I checked and rechecked our tickets, hoping for a mistake, but there was none.

“What in the world did they bring on board…?”

And then I saw it. A flash of familiar blue hair beyond the compartment door.

Adela?

I opened the door, and in that instant…

“Hm?”

“Headmaster?”

“What the fuck?”

“Boss?”

I stared, speechless, at the one person I had least expected to see. And the one person I least wanted to encounter.

Esther Rochear, the Ice Duke, glared back at me, her eyes as cold and unforgiving as the frozen wastes of Lake Senrir.