Ch.89The Second Letter

“You’re a bit late, Lord Haschal.”

When I returned to the lodging, Nigel, who had been training, greeted me.

This guy is really consistent.

At the master level, his body is already somewhat complete, so the efficiency of training probably isn’t that high.

“I was chatting with another student. Have you eaten yet?”

“Not yet. Shall we go to the dining hall right away?”

Did he wait for me again? Even though about thirty minutes of mealtime had already passed.

I told him there was no need to do that.

“Let’s go. I wonder if Frider and Asha are already eating.”

“Probably so.”

As we headed down to the dining hall, I told Nigel about today’s lecture.

She also showed considerable interest when I mentioned training with magical tools engraved with nightmare magic.

“That’s an interesting method. If it could be commercialized, it might be worth introducing in Landenburg as well.”

“Well, I think there might be more non-combat casualties.”

Even if they reduced the pain, those with low mental strength would likely still suffer from PTSD.

“But I believe it would significantly reduce the loss of new recruits in actual combat.”

Is that so…? Well, they do say half of new recruits die in their first battle.

While I was at it, I also complained about Demian’s situation.

It was impressive that he caught the undead, but the last nightmare that popped out happened to be my image.

“Hmm… certainly, that’s understandable. I can see why.”

Nigel, you too?

—-

The dining hall was so quiet you could only hear breathing.

The only students remaining were Frider and Lacy.

The two of them didn’t exchange a single word, quietly focusing only on their meals.

The paladin who appeared to be Lacy’s guard also silently brought dessert to his mouth.

There seems to be quite a distance between them. They look uncomfortable with each other.

They’re even using completely different tables.

I thought they’d get along since they both dislike werebeasts, but I guess not.

Has Asha already gone back?

Or is she skipping meals again to focus on her work?

I should probably go to Frider first.

Lacy is a bit burdensome, and shouldn’t I help the lonely Miss Frider?

“Ah, you’re here? You’re a bit late.”

“I was chatting a bit after the lecture. Why are you eating alone again?”

I pulled out a chair, sat down, and leaned back. Today’s lunch is lamb.

Well, lamb isn’t bad. I like its unique texture that’s subtly crunchy.

“Well, there wasn’t really anyone worth eating with. Asha seems quite busy, and Kalix is probably still grazing on grass. The only ones left are that fairy or Evian… I’d rather starve than dine with them.”

“That’s certainly true. Come to think of it, what a waste of space. This dining hall has over thirty chairs, but never more than ten people using it.”

“That’s actually fortunate. Sitting right next to someone you’re uncomfortable with would be quite unpleasant, honestly.”

In other words, she’s uncomfortable with Lacy. Why?

I should ask her after waiting a bit. It’s not something to bring up where Lacy might hear.

As if she had finished her meal, Lacy stood up and headed out of the dining hall.

The paladin looked a bit regretfully at the remaining piece of cake before promptly following Lacy.

He wasn’t there when I visited Lacy’s room before.

Must be someone new who arrived in the meantime.

Now that Lacy has left, I can ask.

“You seem uncomfortable with the Church of Elpinel’s saint candidate? I thought you two would get along. You both quite dislike werebeasts.”

“Hmm… how should I put this. That woman’s ideology is excessively radical. Even compared to Faelrun. She probably wouldn’t hesitate to pour troops into the northern snowfields if given the chance. Despite the enormous sacrifices it would cause.”

She did say once that invading the northern snowfields was her goal.

She just said it wasn’t feasible now due to the circumstances.

“And… the targets she wants to exterminate aren’t just werebeasts. In official settings, she only condemns what she calls ‘evil non-humans’ like werebeasts, but it’s obvious she secretly hates all non-human races. Fairies, dwarves, even dragonborn.”

Well, if she only hated werebeasts, she wouldn’t be called a racist.

“How many people would die if we fought all those races? The Empire might not care, but the Holy State wouldn’t allow it. That’s probably why she remains just a candidate despite having skills sufficient to be selected as a saint.”

Frider frowned.

“If she just abandoned her extreme ideology, she could become a saint right away. But she thinks it’s because her faith is lacking and becomes even more extreme… it’s quite ridiculous.”

“I see, I understand now.”

My portion of the meal arrived.

I cut into the steaming lamb and brought it to my mouth.

Beyond the crisp texture that breaks apart easily, rich juices overflow.

There was no gamey smell at all, suggesting it was freshly butchered young lamb.

Delicious.

I enjoyed the aromatic spices tickling my nose while chatting with Frider.

Though I didn’t bring up anything about Demian.

It’s obvious she would just tease me about it.

—-

When I returned, there were several new letters waiting for me. From the Imperial House, no less.

New letters at this point… I doubt they bring good news.

I checked the sender’s name.

The first letter was from Leonore.

Along with asking how I was feeling, she inquired about where I’d prefer to have our friendly duel after I recovered.

She suggested her villa if coming to the palace would be burdensome. Not a bad consideration.

So… how about three days from now?

By then my recovery should be complete, and it’s about time I checked my combat readiness.

I wrote a reply suggesting we meet at the villa in three days. I can send it a bit later.

I picked up the second letter.

It was exceptionally luxurious, even among the imperial letters I’d received so far.

The sender’s name was written in elegant handwriting at the bottom of the envelope.

Even the ink sparkled slightly, as if mixed with gem powder.

Isabella Benes Wittelsbach.

…Finally, it’s come.

I put down the envelope and sighed briefly.

Surely she wouldn’t have poisoned the letter or embedded magic in it.

She openly wrote her name on it, after all. Probably.

I took out the letter and read it.

Though the stationery was elaborate, the content was straightforward without flowery language.

Not because she has a genuinely simple personality like Ernst, but probably because she didn’t feel the need for embellishments.

—-

Aishan-Gioro Princess, Baron of Median.

Before the banquet celebrating the restoration of the islands, I would like to have a conversation with you.

I would be pleased if you would not refuse the Empress’s goodwill.

– Isabella.

—-

At first glance, it was written with such courtesy that one might mistake it for genuine goodwill.

Though the true intention was anything but.

It meant that if I refused the invitation, I would become her enemy.

In other words, this was an ultimatum disguised as an invitation.

From the moment I refused, she would consider me an enemy and try to eliminate me.

She wouldn’t choose blatant methods from the start, but still.

Yet I had no intention of accepting. Am I crazy enough to go there?

If I carelessly set foot in that den of evil… I’d be immediately subjected to drugs, hypnosis, brainwashing, and training.

I might enter normally, but when I left, I would no longer be myself.

I exhaled cigarette smoke while looking at the longsword hanging on the wall.

Yes, the time has come.

As Ernst said, the moment to choose.

The banquet six days later would be the place to reveal it.

…I sent a reply thanking her for the goodwill but declining.

======[Baryachrus]======

On the frozen fortress throne.

Rurik, king of the werebeasts, looked down at the small human before him with cold eyes.

It was astonishing.

A human figure in the heart of the werebeasts’ land, where humans are hated—even in the royal palace.

It wouldn’t have been strange if he had been torn to pieces the moment he was spotted.

With his thick robe and hood pulled down, the man’s face wasn’t visible.

Judging by his height and build, one could only guess he was a sturdy man.

The man stood proudly before the great snow wolf’s anger, without cowering.

“So, magician. Your confident plan ended in failure after all. Isn’t that right?”

Rurik growled, with rising irritation and anger.

It was a natural reaction. While other warriors might be insignificant losses, the three champions were quite valuable forces.

If he had thrown stones, he should have received appropriate results.

But what was the outcome?

While killing twenty thousand humans was satisfying, they barely reduced the enemy’s main forces, and they didn’t achieve even one of their original objectives.

It was a truly ambiguous result for the effort invested.

“Well, I didn’t expect two champions to die so futilely either. After helping them infiltrate the islands and even creating magical tools to conceal their presence.”

The man replied glibly, as if the failure was entirely due to the werebeasts’ weakness.

“Grrrrrr….”

The wolf vibrated his throat. As if warning him to choose his words carefully.

He looked ready to rise from the throne and blow the man’s head off at any moment.

“Oh my, I went too far. I apologize. In fact, it might not even be a failure at all.”

“What do you mean? The plan to worsen the Empire’s diplomatic relations must have ended without killing even one person. Because of that Ka’har woman.”

The man slightly extended his left arm.

“Wasn’t the purpose to disrupt and weaken the Empire? In that regard, we’ve achieved even better results than planned. Though it wasn’t expected… this incident will expand what would have been a trivial succession dispute into something much more serious.”

“Succession dispute?”

“Yes. The two imperial princes. Originally, the Third Prince’s side was overwhelming, but… now they’ve become similar in power. So, a major internal conflict will arise. This will cause much greater damage than slightly worsening diplomatic relations!”

If civil war breaks out, it would be the best outcome.

The Empire falling by its own hand.

“Isn’t succession determined by duel?”

“…That’s the way of the werebeasts. Humans usually decide based on bloodline, status, and the number of followers.”

“Hmm…”

Rurik’s intensity subsided.

Though he didn’t fully understand, he seemed somewhat satisfied.

“Please wait just a little longer. Results will start to show soon.”

“We have already waited too long… enduring the bitter cold of the world like a blizzard. Therefore, results must come before we freeze. Magician.”

The man bowed deeply.