Chapter 76. Pruning (3)
"Thank you for cooperating, Sir Pintel. I shall take my leave."
With a brief farewell, I escorted the nameless guest from my group and exited the audience chamber.
A serene silence descended, and Pintel, unable to endure the stifling atmosphere, hurriedly followed suit and left the room.
'He has become a monster.'
As Pintel walked, he pondered the situation that had just occurred.
As a noble of the Adraton Empire, he recalled most of the steps Yulian had taken up to this point.
He was, after all, of noble blood, albeit tainted.
Unable to prove the usefulness of that blood, he had become the empire's foolish executioner, the emperor's dog.
... Or so he thought.
'Where did that previous air disappear to...?'
When Yulian had summoned him, Pintel hadn't been informed of any details.
But the moment he stood in that position, his instincts whispered fervently.
That with a single word from him, he could suffocate the despicable Gerard.
'Since that day, I haven't exchanged a word with him, yet Yulian understood my intentions.'
Surely, if it had been the 'Yulian' of old, he would've felt offended.
- 'To make use of the current events so that Gerard loses his position.'
Yet, a mere imperial dog was the only one capable of understanding his sentiments.
But now, it was different.
'He himself, no, Sir Yulian...'
Pintel considered the possibility that his current thoughts might be blasphemous.
However, the murky stream flowing through his heart began to erode his rigid thoughts.
Eventually, it formed into a single resolution.
'He fits as an archbishop of the Dawn Society.'
With that thought in mind, Pintel continued his steps.
***
"Where is the Black Knight?"
As we walked down the corridor after leaving the audience chamber, Maier spoke up.
Her voice, though brusque as if trying to show dissatisfaction, still carried an undertone of fear.
The 'Color of Fear' hovering above her head was evidence of that.
"What will you do after finding him?"
Like you would believe me even if I told you.
"I want to thank him. For giving me the chance to avenge big brother Baran's death."
"Then I shall relay your message."
"... I don't want that."
I can't understand why she's refusing.
"I want to tell him directly. Besides, I have something to ask."
"What would that be?"
"Why should I tell you that?"
Because the person you're desperately searching for is me.
"Please use the communications sphere. You did receive one, didn't you?"
"... He said not to contact him first. The Black Knight emphasized it adamantly."
How troublesome.
Yet, her adherence to the promise was slightly admirable, despite her brusque manner of speaking.
"Tell him I wish to meet. If he doesn't comply, I'll inform the Imperial Court of your deeds... Kyaa!"
I pulled off Maier's mask, revealing her emerald eyes.
"Know your place."
Spitting the words more harshly than usual, Maier flinched.
But only for a moment; her eyes sharpened.
"Know my place? I hold your weakness in my hands! Unless you're a fool, you should know what could happen to you if this reaches the Imperial Court... Umph."
I clamped my hand over Maier's mouth.
Jeez, you crazy woman! Keep your voice down!
"I appreciate the concern, but are you sure? What do you think the reason might be for asking for your help?"
Saying that, I gazed intently at Maier.
Just as her strong pride wouldn't allow her to leave a debt unpaid, she wouldn't divulge a word about today's events to anyone due to the favor she received from the 'Black Knight'.
"... Ugh."
Maier let out a pained groan, as if something had pricked her.
Huh? What's gotten into you suddenly?
"Fine... I know that someone like me, from the slums, wouldn't be taken seriously."
Showing a vehement 'Color of Fear' above her head, she pushed my hand away and stepped back.
"Someone like me, a country bumpkin, could disappear without a trace, and no one would care. That's what you're trying to say, isn't it?"
... That's not it.
It was sincere concern.
However, I had already come to faintly realize through numerous experiences.
'Appearance matters.'
Though I've grown accustomed to it, words of concern—even if spoken by this sly, slit-eye— can take on a different meaning.
"I won't say anything, just as you think. But it's not because I fear you!"
Maier trembled as she spoke.
Judging by her attitude, it seems she's not saying that without reason.
"Due to the connection with the Black Knight, I'll keep quiet. Unlike you, he's... trustworthy!"
Hearing her story, a wry smile escaped me.
"What's so funny?!"
Perhaps my laughter sounded like mockery, or maybe it was, but Maier's face turned red, and she raised her voice.
It wasn't a laughable matter.
I had been trying to act more 'Yulian'-like and avoid killing as much as possible.
Though that alone wouldn't erase the infamy built by this wicked villain's past.
Yet, the fact that she trusted a masked stranger more than me couldn't help but be amusing.
"It's amusing to see you trust someone who hides their face and identity. It seems like something only a child would do."
"He's far better than you!"
"In what way?"
Flustered by my words, Maier thought for a moment before speaking.
"First of all, he's cool."
The sudden comment caught me off guard.
"... How can you tell he's cool without having seen his face even once?"
"I just know. Unlike you, he wouldn't have a sly slit in his eyes!"
For some reason, that comment felt embarrassing.
"And though I don't know his identity, there's something trustworthy about him."
Is that so? Well, if you say so.
"I can't understand why I'm even cooperating with someone whose true intentions are hidden... But still! He's not like you!"
"Is that so?"
"Yes!"
The tone in her voice was filled with unwavering conviction.
Hearing her firm resolve...
'Even though I'm the Black Knight?'
... I refrained from making such a foolish remark.
***
Back at the mansion, I headed to the bathroom to wash up.
When I first entered Tenelon's hidden chamber, cold sweat had made me uncomfortable.
But looking back, I realized only the initial moment was tense. As time passed, I found myself becoming more nonchalant.
"Master Yulian, how would you like your meal?"
As I emerged from the bathroom and was drying myself, a maid approached and respectfully inquired.
"Please prepare it."
Time had passed, and hunger had crept up substantially.
I informed the attendant and, after drying myself, headed to the dining room.
The amuse-bouche, consisting of bread topped with grated mushrooms and cheese, was served first, followed by shrimp and herbs that could be devoured in one bite.
'... I told them to reduce the appetizers.'
I had mentioned to the chef before that there were too many courses before the main dish.
It was probably a rule set by the luxury-loving 'Yulian', but since I hadn't been particularly fond of it, I'd asked for fewer dishes.
'The chef must have faced a lot of trouble.'
The capricious personality of 'Yulian' had likely troubled the chef many times, making it difficult for him to change the rule.
- 'Perhaps he's testing me?'
I'd once heard some mutterings along those lines.
"This is veal aged for seven months in beeswax."
Such was the brief explanation the chef gave as he brought in the food with a cart.
"This veal lacks beef scent, so we've used a special marinade to enhance its flavor. Just to suit your taste, Yulian."
"Is that so?"
"Yes."
While I'm not one for gourmet foods, the sight of the chef explaining with nervous tension piqued my curiosity.
Since long ago, I've thought of food as merely a source of energy.
Calories, to me, are the factors determining the quality of food.
"Let me try it, then."
Grabbing the fork and knife, I cut into the meat and placed it into my mouth.
As the chef had claimed, there wasn't much beef scent, but the aroma of herbs and butter lingered intensely on my tongue.
The blend of bold marination with the tender veal created a surprisingly harmonious taste.
It was quite appealing, actually.
"Does it suit your taste?"
"... It's good."
The chef's face lit up with relief and pride.
"Do you have more of this?"
Noticing the chef's visible reaction of realization, I pointed at the plate with my finger.
"Yes, of course!"
"Then, bring about ten more plates of the same."
Considering my incredible physical prowess, my body required substantial energy intake.
After mastering 'Sombra', I've become even more sensitive to hunger.
"Y-Yes...!?"
"I'm quite famished. I think I need to eat a bit more."
The chef's eyes, reflecting his inability to comprehend the request, wavered for a moment. Then, as though making a resolution, he nodded.
"I'll figure out a way to prepare it."
"If it's too much trouble, anything else will do."
"No! Please allow me to do this!"
Somehow, the chef's words carried a determined tone.
Did he perhaps see it as some kind of test?
Despite my urge to stop him in case he might strain himself, the chef hurried out of the dining room with brisk steps.
'... If it's too hard, he'll stop on his own.'
I resumed moving the fork.
As my insatiable hunger gradually subsided, my mind filled with stray thoughts.
Gérard had been dealt with more swiftly than the original story dictated.
How should I handle the ensuing storm from this unexpected shift?
'As if it matters now?'
Adding 'original' to the chaotic storyline was of no use anymore.
'Indeed, learning Sombra and having the Sword Saint abandon the role of the Black Knight were all unexpected.'
In light of everything, efficiently managing forthcoming events became crucial.
"Master Yulian! My apologies for interrupting your meal, but... you have a guest!"
As I settled my mind slightly, a flustered voice from one of the attendants snapped me back to attention.
I cast a long gaze at the attendant.
Though he showed obvious signs of fear, he bore the expression of someone who knew he had to inform me regardless of my meal.
Judging by his urgency, it was clearly an important guest.
"Who is it?"
"O-Oben Cryphart is here."
Oben, Oben...
Repeating the name, I suddenly halted the fork in my hand.
It was the name of the head of House Cryphart.
Simultaneously....
"Father...?"
Of me, or more accurately, of 'Yulian'.
"I'll invite him in."
My muttering, apparently taken as a confirmation, prompted the attendant to bow and swiftly dash back toward the entrance.
'Why is he at my mansion?'
It felt off.
Wasn't 'Yulian' the disowned child of the Cryphart family?
Why would the head pay a visit to me?
Reflecting deeply, the reason soon hit me.
- 'If the head himself could come, I might make time even amidst a busy schedule.'
This then was the consequence of that fleeting remark.
Who would have thought he'd actually take the words seriously and visit!
I halted my meal with a sense of disarray, as footsteps approached, placing down the fork and standing up.
Right now, veal isn't the priority!
Such a scenario wasn't even in the game narrative.
For the head of Cryphart to visit 'Yulian'.
I must handle this skillfully.
His mere utterance could alter 'Yulian's' storyline.
Though the head of the Cryphart family, who could freely control the fate of a branch family, I had to play the situation shrewdly nonetheless.
"Yulian, Sir Oben has arrived."
So, as with other encounters.
Though perhaps a slight bow suited a family head better.
Even if I'm tagged as 'Frason', I'm still part of House Cryphart.
"Were you dining? It's been a while, Yulian."
A man with a tidy appearance stepped into the dining room.
His features faintly mirrored those of 'Yulian', excluding the slit-eyes, evident of being his father, Oben.
Displaying some warmth, he extended his hand.
"Yes, it has been a while. My lord."
Next, it would be courteous to offer a handshake, I presumed.
I timidly extended my hand to clasp his.
This felt like decent progress; not a bad response, as anticipated.
"What kept you from participating in the family meeting? Had you come, I would personally have... Urgh...!"
.... There was an oversight.
'Yulian' harbored a vehement hatred toward the head of Cryphart, 'Oben', as well.
My body's instinct reacted fiercely against 'Oben', putting pressure as if to break his hand.
Thankfully, I prevented it from employing an aura.
Sorry, Oben.
Truly, it's not within my will.