Chapter 172

Finding the source of the cold that had crept up unnoticed, the spy threw three needlelike daggers at the same time. They had been dipped in poison many times over, and their surfaces were corroded so as not to give off a visible shine. The little things were almost indistinguishable from the shadows of the trees in a forest like; they were nearly impossible to see. For most opponents, at least. “Ice Shield.” All the deadly projectiles were parried effortlessly, and a young noble with an icy look in his eyes appeared from between the trees. For Weishardt, who had fought higher-ranking monsters in the dim light of the Labyrinth, dealing with this assassin slowed by the cold was simple. Batting the knives away was like swatting a bug. “Did you really think you could buy time with such an amateurish attack?” Weishardt asked, voice as chill as the grave. The noble’s outline appeared blurry to the black-robed spy, who had prepared to launch his final attack the instant he sighted Weishardt. “…Contemptible vermin.” It was unclear whether the nobleman’s voice reached the assassin. Weishardt’s magic Ice Field, encased the spy’s body completely, leaving him transfigured into a statue of pure ice. Weishardt threw a hateful glare at his enemy, then rushed over to Caroline. “Carol! Are you unharmed?!” “Lord Weis…” After running through an unfamiliar forest on a rough animal trail and being threatened with a weapon, Caroline understood that she was safe at last now that she could see Weishardt’s face. As if all the strength suddenly left her legs, the young lady of the Aguinas family began to collapse to the ground. “Carol!” Flustered, Weishardt reached out and caught her in his arms. “U-um, Lord Weis. I… I am sorry you must see me like this…” Caroline bashfully averted her gaze. Although her cloak had warded off the rain, it had done little to stave off the rest of the day’s miseries: She’d been drugged, taken to a hideaway in the forest, and traveled along an unpaved path in the middle of the forest during a storm. Water dripped from the tips of her hair, and her thinly applied makeup had long since come off. Both her shoes and the hem of her dress were in terrible shape from rain and mud. Even her face was stained with wet dirt. For a young lady who experienced emotional upheaval over the thickness of her lashes, the length and curliness of her bangs, and every single one of her freckles, Caroline hardly considered herself presentable at the moment. But from Weishardt’s point of view, Caroline’s alabaster skin was beautiful, no longer concealed beneath makeup and now even paler after her ordeal. The rain dripping from her long lashes and bangs seemed to sparkle more radiantly than any jewel. Caroline’s cold hands on Weishardt’s arm as he supported her trembled gently. Even though they both lived in the Labyrinth City, her life was so very different from his own. Weishardt confronted monsters and felt death breathing down his neck every day. How terrifying facing that must have been for a young lady who saw the future as full of hope and promise. Caroline’s quivering hands, buckling legs, and pale face were proof enough of that. No one would have judged her for clinging to Weishardt and crying in relief at being saved. However, without shedding tears or losing her composure, Caroline put what strength remained into her shaking legs. So strong and beautiful… The sight of her standing by herself without clinging to anyone touched Weishardt’s heart. “Carol, you don’t need to stand alone. You don’t need to bear the burden alone. I would bear it with you. I will stay by your side.” “Lord…Weis…?” Weishardt firmly grasped both of Caroline’s hands to hold her up, then went down to his knees on the muddy earth. “Caroline. I will be your support. I will remain with you for as long as I draw breath. I wish to be with you.” “Lord Weishardt…” They were not beneath a beautiful starlit sky, nor in a beautiful rose garden. The rain had stopped, but the ground was muddy, and they were surrounded by decaying plant matter and moss-covered trees. What stood in this “garden” wasn’t a beautiful marble statue, but an assassin, frozen in ice. It would be hard to say the scene was romantic, but the two saw only each other. Nothing else mattered. “Yes… Yes! Lord Weishardt. I…” Caroline’s cheeks were a rosy shade of red as she accepted Weishardt’s proposal. After it had been decided Caroline would be the Aguinas family’s heir, she had been prepared to welcome someone connected to the family of Margrave Schutzenwald as her husband. The Aguinases were an ancient line and had once held rights to potion-related matters. Now that their potions had run dry, they had neither land nor much income, and they became a family valuable only for their political influence. Robert’s disgrace only complicated matters further. No matter what kind of person she was to be married off to, Caroline was not in a position to rebuke them. Even her previous fiancé had been an alchemist from the imperial capital more than twenty years her senior whom she’d never met. For her, a political marriage was the only option that there had ever been. But, as Weishardt came to Sunlight’s Canopy time and again bearing sweets or bouquets of flowers, Caroline eventually found herself thinking, If only it could be him. It wasn’t that she was drawn to Weishardt’s appearance or lineage. For Caroline, Weishardt’s high popularity among women and his good looks were offset by the fact that he was a soldier. Caroline had worked as a chemist for a long time, and she felt soldiers were more stubborn than adventurers, and couldn’t use healing magic and potions properly because they thought they could solve anything simply through blind effort alone. However, Weishardt understood the one advantage medicine had over potions was that they could be used anywhere. He endorsed Caroline’s view that even regular medicine had its uses, even if it wasn’t as powerful as an alchemical curative. Besides, Weishardt supported his older brother and had a strong sense of purpose in his desire to defeat the Labyrinth. He and Caroline both hoped for a similar kind of world after the Labyrinth. To her, Weishardt walked a similar path, and he was a person she could respect. She couldn’t have wished for a better person to be her spouse. “Let us protect the alchemist together, Lord Weis!” Caroline accepted the proposal with a smile that lit up her entire face, and although Weishardt’s expression remained unchanged, his heart crumbled at her answer. …I… I see. At the end of the day, this is nothing more than a political marriage of convenience for Carol. Of course she would think of it as a measure to protect the alchemist and the potions… Weishardt’s had captivated ladies of both the Labyrinth City and the imperial capital, but he was not prepared to find his princely advances meant nothing in the face of sheer obliviousness. A feeling of dejection washed over him. It was as if Weishardt were gazing up from the bottom of the earth at a high peak far above him. He shifted his focus, following Caroline’s glance to the frozen assassin who had taken an arrow. If that single shot hadn’t bought him time, would Weishardt have made it…? His thoughts strayed to the one who had loosed the arrow and that hunter’s master. Well, Caroline and I have made more progress than those two. I’ve passed a hurdle. I just need to be patient as things move forward. Weishardt’s thoughts were as one might have expected of the lieutenant general of the Labyrinth Suppression Forces. He’d overcome many hardships that had tempered his spirit like steel. He quickly recovered, and after getting up off the muddy earth, he offered Caroline his hand. “Now then, Lady Carol. Actually, would it be all right if I called you Carol? Let’s return to the Labyrinth City.” Weishardt gave a kind smile, and in her eyes, he was more attractive than ever before. As if slightly bewildered by this, Caroline spoke with hesitation. “Um, Lord Weis.” “Yes?” “Um…my dear brother rescued me. He may have committed a crime by escaping, but…if he had not rescued me, surely you and I could not have met again.” “Ahh, is that right? So everything he did was to save you.” “Yes, that’s why—” With her head down, Caroline swallowed hard. Clearly having focused her resolve, she continued, “Would you release my dear brother? He’s frozen over there.” A few steps behind the assassin, Robert, too, had become an ice statue. He was frozen in a pose that seemed to say, “If you want to kill my sister, you’ll have to go through me first!” It was an extremely dangerous position for Robert to have taken. Despite the bravery of the stance, Robert’s physical abilities didn’t even come close to being enough to block the assassin. He hadn’t been a wall at all. His position relative to the spy made this very clear. The assassin had pushed well past him by the time the two had been encased in ice. And that wasn’t even the worst part. Although Weishardt had trapped the two, it was just to stop them from moving. He needed them alive for interrogation. In particular, Robert was hardly a threat in a fight, and he had only needed a thin layer of frost to halt his movements. Stuck in that extremely awkward pose, Caroline’s brother had heard—with perfect clarity—the entire proposal. What manner of hell is this?! No one heard Robert screaming thoughts of discomfort. All he could do was cry internally and alone. Was this his penance for making a deal with the flame devil? Could this have been the result of giving up a peaceful life and death? His sister was safe of course, but… After Weishardt freed him, and Dick and the others came running to take him away, Robert looked like his soul had left his body. “I can summon a carriage to the edge of the forest. Can you walk that far?” “Yes, Lord Weis.” Following Weishardt, Caroline moved leisurely through the forest. “Lord Weis……” “Hmm? What’s wrong? Am I going a bit fast?” “No, no. It is nothing.” Caroline turned her eyes away and didn’t see Weishardt’s caring expression as he looked back at her. What’s the matter with me? Despite being known as an ice user, Weishardt’s hand clasping hers was large and warm. As a daughter of the Aguinas family, Caroline had to conduct herself with resolve, yet all she could think about was their linked hands. Her heart pounded in her breast. Lord Weis proposed to me as a political partner… But, I… One could only wonder when Caroline would realize the true nature of the feelings that had taken hold of her, or if Weishardt ever noticed that the heart of the girl gazing passionately at his back, was pounding. The forest remained slick and swampy after the storm, and the steps of the pair walking hand in hand were awkward. The sunlight shining through a gap in the clouds cast glittering shades on the droplets clinging to the branches. Others who saw Weishardt and Caroline on their journey home seemed to be wishing the best of luck to the pair. 05 “Thank you for coming, Lord Kunz Marrock.” Kunz Marrock—master of the dwarven Rock Wheel Autonomous Region—arrived in the Labyrinth City precisely two days after Caroline’s attempted abduction, just as his message had said. Leonhardt, who welcomed him, had prepared a two-person feast for the man. Marrock was known to dislike formal gatherings. “I’m grateful you’re sparing me some of your time despite my sudden visit. Dwarves don’t pay any attention to details unless they’re making something. I only realized a few days ago that I’d failed to send notice of my visit. Good gracious, I’m honestly ashamed.” “Don’t worry about it, we’ve maintained a good friendship with the Rock Wheel Autonomous Region for over two hundred years. Its lord has graced us with his presence, so I’d like to offer a heartfelt welcome. I’ve prepared plenty of alcohol. I hope you’ll greatly enjoy yourself.” “In that case, I’ll avail myself of your kind offer. Only half of the blood running through my veins is dwarven, but it’s no less a nuisance. I’ve got a weakness for a good drink. Good gracious, I’m truly embarrassed. Ohh, this is an eight-year-vintage that the imperial capital just started offering for sale. The merchant caravans going through the Fell Forest must be doing extremely well if you were able to get your hands on this.” Marrock grinned and picked up the bottle. He may have been using words like “embarrassed,” but his behavior didn’t hold the slightest bit of humility. If anything, he was rather brazen. Marrock’s blood was half dwarven, so he had the characteristic solid, short build and thick beard and eyebrows of a dwarf. Though a little taller than the average dwarf, his race was still immediately obvious; he was a very dwarven man in his fifties. However, most dwarves grew out their beards as a source of pride, but Marrock had trimmed his short, and even his eyebrows had been kept neat. His hairstyle was clean as well, giving him a gentlemanly, fresh appearance. His tone, too, was calm and shrewd, giving whomever he spoke to the impression that he was a noble who had been doing business for a long time. Above all, his large eyes gave off a sense of noble birthright to others. Even as he laughed happily and relished his drink, they betrayed nothing of his true feelings to any observers. A half-dwarf lord whose heart of hearts was well-hidden—that was Kunz Marrock. “Every bottle of alcohol from the imperial capital is a quality item. I’ll make arrangements to have the merchant caravans who travel along the mountain roads transport it,” Leonhardt said to Marrock, who tilted his cup back in an elegant motion. Leonhardt had broached this subject to say that the merchant caravans who traveled through the mountain roads would still exist even after people began using the road through the Fell Forest. It was likely that the only reason for Marrock’s visit at this stage was that the Fell Forest had become traversable now that potions were offered on the market. “That’s very kind of you,” Marrock replied, his expression unchanged. “However, the sentiment is enough. Well, the part about sending the alcohol, that is. Good gracious, the alcohol makes it a terribly attractive proposal. Honestly, I almost forgot my original reason for coming. That is also one of the reasons I came here, of course, but what I want is something different.” He got to the point faster than I thought he would. Does this frankness mean he’s already accepted the reality of what’s happening…? As he gazed at Marrock’s large, unreadable eyes, Leonhardt’s expression remained neutral as well, and he urged him to continue. “I see. Then what is your request?” “Oh, it’s nothing big. With merchants far and wide going to the imperial capital, our Rock Wheel Autonomous Region has also started its own company. We can’t presume upon other people carrying goods for us forever. So we’ll transport them to the imperial capital ourselves and sell them. Good gracious, dwarves involved in the likes of business—it must seem like child’s play to you. Go ahead, you can laugh at how slow we are to catch on.” “No, not at all! There’s no need to be so humble. It’s a joint venture with the Bandel Company. Nothing escapes our notice.” Grin, grin. Though the mouths of the two men mouths smiled, their eyes didn’t at all. The Bandel Company was a major medicinal herb distributor in the Labyrinth City and specialized in exporting via yagu merchant caravans traveling along the mountain roads. They had the foresight to quickly switch to the Fell Forest route once the sale of potions promised to reduce the flow of medicinal herbs from the Labyrinth City. It was probably a natural outcome for the Bandel Company to have its eye on Rock Wheel weapons and armor as goods to replace medicinal herbs. “Good gracious, just as I’d expect from the renowned general. Honestly, you have sharp ears. Well then, we’ll establish a branch in the Labyrinth City. I take it you won’t mind.” “Of course, Lord Marrock. I believe the Bandel Company has already prepared a location for it.” Grin, grin. Leonhardt had a general idea of the goings-on in the City. At his response, Marrock continued. “You could say the sale of potions is a revolutionary turning point for the Labyrinth City, couldn’t you? Good gracious, bearing witness to such a historic moment is more of an honor than I deserve. You’ll be inundated by crowds of people, and you’ll never have enough artisans. Rock Wheel is willing to offer its support. Changing our traditional sales outlets to go through the Labyrinth City is proof enough of that. However, we dwarves are inexperienced in business matters. We won’t last if we don’t have some sort of help.” “What are you talking about, Lord Marrock? It takes one week to travel from the Rock Wheel Autonomous Region to the Labyrinth City, and six days from the Labyrinth City to the imperial capital for someone familiar with the route. Going to the imperial capital from the Rock Wheel Autonomous Region through the mountain roads takes three weeks. Traveling to the capital by first coming here is the faster route. I have nothing but the greatest admiration for your keen insight in seeing the opportunity to make profits along the way.” Dry laughter reverberated in the room. Even if Leonhardt and Marrock were having an entirely unenjoyable conversation, adult laughter shouldn’t have been so dry. At this rate, their throats would be left parched. After gulping down his drink, Marrock flashed a smile at Leonhardt and said, “Ohh, this really is some good alcohol.” In the end, all Marrock was requesting was for people from Rock Wheel to be allowed to travel to the imperial capital via the shorter Fell Forest route. Of course, Marrock was meticulous enough to insert himself into a company that had roots in the Labyrinth City so he wouldn’t be refused. He also brazenly made mention of preferential treatment, if possible. Though he probably already knew that would be turned down. Since even the Labyrinth City couldn’t refuse Marrock’s proposal, he’d settled for “good alcohol.” This discussion was just one of the possible scenarios Leonhardt had anticipated, one of the most reasonable at that. The Rock Wheel Autonomous Region was located far from the imperial capital and was much smaller than the Labyrinth City. Despite all its residents being dwarves who devoted themselves to craftsmanship, Marrock had acquired information on alcohol that had just begun to be sold in the imperial capital. Although Leonhardt wasn’t able to obtain any intelligence suggesting that Marrock was involved in the kidnapping of the Aguinas woman in the Labyrinth City two days ago, it was very doubtful the half dwarf, who had paid a visit to the Labyrinth City right around that time, knew nothing about it. Dwarves may have spoken the same language as humans and possessed the ability to bear children with them, but they were, ultimately, a different kind of people. They found meaning in craftsmanship itself, not in where those crafts ended up. They didn’t care if their own weapons spread both to the Empire and to the countries that opposed it at the same time. Dwarves operated under different morals. Understanding each other’s differences was the way to coexist with them. Knowing this, Leonhardt had said something very specific to Marrock. It was a magic phrase that had been passed down from the head of the family for generations: a kind of friendship spell. “We, too, look forward to the day when Rock Wheel achieves ‘the ultimate sword.’ When that day comes, I would like to ask for a swing.” The ultimate sword. That was the only thing the dwarves of the Rock Wheel Autonomous Region sought. The home of the dwarves didn’t produce orichalcum; they wanted to cast steel that surpassed it in order to forge the ultimate sword. How many artisans, how much time, and how much money would be needed for such a blade? Marrock sold dwarven weapons and armor on a large scale for no other reason than to see that goal fulfilled one day. The half dwarf was an unparalleled lord. He’d been blessed with both business ability and an aptitude for politics. His heritage also ingrained in him the fundamental desire for the ultimate sword. However, his blood also left him ill suited for smithwork. He himself was unable to work toward the ultimate sword. Although he understood that, his desire for the weapon was like an obsession. Marrock knew the dwarven ideal and acted accordingly as best he could. Leonhardt wanted to be a good neighbor, and his words made him an individual in Marrock’s eyes for the first time. He was no longer one person in a multitude of humans, but “Leonhardt.” “By the way, I believe your younger brother, Lord Weishardt, got engaged recently. What a happy occasion. We haven’t yet achieved the ultimate, but the next time I come here, let us celebrate the best sword of the present age.” That was only two days ago… Marrock truly is a shrewd one… Leonhardt was astonished at the speed of the half dwarf’s information. The engagement was still largely unknown, even among the nobility. “To the ultimate sword.” “To the prosperity of the Labyrinth City.” The toast didn’t taste too bad to either of them. 06 After much work, it was determined that the mastermind behind Caroline’s abduction was from a merchant clan. The clan had acted independently of any other larger groups. The execution of their crime had been clumsy and amateurish. If there had been any other points of contact, the scheme likely would’ve been exposed rather quickly. The greedy merchant father-son pair charged people wanting to go to the Labyrinth City a travel fee to take them there. Of course, it was common for merchant caravans to transport people and items if they had the space in their wagons. Likewise, visitor inspections were easily conducted in the Labyrinth City. No one except extremely suspicious people were monitored, and once they entered the City, it was unknown where they went. “There’s no reason for adventurers with valuable combat skills to come to the City during this season, right?” Telluther had made this comment as he cut his nails. He was referring to a man with black hair and greenish-blue eyes in his late twenties with the air of a civil official. Normally, this man would have been overlooked, but thanks to Telluther’s remark, the Labyrinth Suppression Forces had become aware of him as a person of interest. A number of territories suddenly attracted great importance to the Forces because the people who’d attacked their base were spies from the family of small nations. Malraux was well acquainted with one of them, and he had a clue as to who the man with black hair and greenish-blue eyes was. “It has been a while. Is my wife doing well, Steward?” Right around the time Weishardt had set out to rescue Caroline, Malraux, his orderly Rhet, and soldier slave Taros were visiting a room where a man with the air of a civil official was staying. “M…my lord. It has been a long time. I was just thinking I might come to visit you tomorrow…” Doubtless he hadn’t expected Malraux to come calling. Although the steward of Countess Beratte’s family was taken aback by a visit from his master, whom he should have been serving, he offered a token show of manners. “Enough with the facade. You certainly made a profit from smuggling weapons to the smaller nations, didn’t you? I can’t imagine hiring so many spies could’ve been cheap.” “Wh-what are you—?” “We captured a spy who snuck into our base. He’ll tell us everything before long.” Malraux’s attitude was indifferent. There was no sign he was agitated or that he desired remorse from the steward, who was a member of the family in a way. The glimpse of Malraux’s heart visible in his blue eyes showed resignation, and a most profound anger. To Rhet and Taros, who had come here with him, the silent rage in his eyes also appeared somewhat sad. “D-damn it, if you had just…if you had just died on the road in the Fell Forest…!! Do you know what it’s like to watch another man claim my own child as his?!” The steward, having guessed the situation from Malraux’s words and actions, flung off his pretense and drew his sword. Countess Beratte’s husband was his master, but the hostility he felt was clear in his words and his blade. This was what Malraux had expected. Why would this man expressly visit the Labyrinth City? Why had Malraux’s group been attacked on their way back to the base from Caroline’s atelier? Malraux thought the man’s remarks were selfish. He stared down the steward of Countess Beratte’s family as the man slashed desperately at him. This steward had an immoral relationship with the countess, and she’d taken Malraux, who had similar blond hair and blue eyes, as her husband in order to continue that relationship behind closed doors. His hair had been dyed black in an attempt at disguising their association. If he hadn’t been dragged into such a foolish trick, Malraux would have been able to live peacefully in the Labyrinth City. This man probably didn’t even try to imagine the grief and hardship Malraux and his love had been forced to endure from being used and separated. His sword is terribly slow. The blade of a steward possessing no combat ability was mere child’s play to Malraux. Even if he didn’t dodge the blow, the extra armor he was wearing under his clothes would probably have prevented any serious injury. Surely he could afford to allow the man a single blow. “No!” “Taros…” It was Malraux’s soldier slave, Taros, who stood in the way and caught the steward’s attack. Malraux hadn’t known this taciturn giant for very long. Ever since what had happened to Lynx, Malraux had started treating slaves as such, and one couldn’t say he was an especially good master. But serving and protecting one’s master in and of itself goes without saying for some, and Taros naturally came to his master’s defense as he had in the previous attack. Malraux wasn’t an especially bad master, either. After all, he’d allowed the steward to carry on as he did despite the impropriety of his behavior. Taros’s words and actions quelled his reckless thoughts and returned him to his senses. “Let me go, let me gooo!” the steward screamed as Taros pinned him to the floor. What it’s like to be unable to claim his own child… Malraux could understand that much. But then, the steward’s current situation was something he’d brought on himself. Considering what he’d put Malraux through, there was little room for sympathy now. “If your only purpose was to hinder the sale of potions, there was no reason for you to come to the Labyrinth City. Did you want to take my place that badly?” The steward remained silent at the question, but the answer was clear. He had indeed come to kill Malraux. “If so, then I can at least grant you that.” Malraux was calm as he had the last word, and the steward lost consciousness. Once Malraux knew the facts, the matter was extremely simple. In order to rally the family of Countess Beratte, who had fallen into financial difficulties due to a string of reckless political endeavors, the steward had smuggled weapons and armor to the family of small nations by diverting them to the Rock Wheel Autonomous Region’s sales channels. Not only was Countess Beratte’s territory on the way from Rock Wheel to the imperial capital, but it was also a crossroads that led to the family of small nations—the perfect setup for such a business. However, the family of small nations was hostile to the Empire, and selling Rock Wheel weapons and armor to them on a large scale was treasonous in the eyes of the Empire. The steward had to have understood the risks. He may have intended to rally the territory’s government as quickly as possible and then stop smuggling. But the sale of potions in the Labyrinth City began before Countess Beratte’s territory had recovered. The Rock Wheel Autonomous Region would probably also transport weapons via the Labyrinth City due to the cheaper cost. Which meant the number of yagu merchant caravans would drop sharply, and even the profits brought by merchant caravans would be lost. The smuggling could be done inconspicuously only because of the large volume of goods in circulation. If the main flow of merchandise went through the Fell Forest instead, continuing the illegal trading would be near impossible. So the steward employed spies and assassins from the family of small nations and planned to abduct the alchemist to stop the sale of potions. The spies were talented, but in the worst-case scenario, the mastermind would be easy to surmise. In an attempt to cover himself, he’d hired a gang of thieves from the imperial capital at an exceptional price, and they weren’t given any information as to who they were working for. The merchants’ attack itself was merely a fortunate coincidence. The steward had realized the merchants’ plan when he slipped into the Labyrinth City during their visit, and had analyzed their movements so that he could set his plan to be executed on the same day. He’d hired spies from the family of small nations for no small fee. Whether or not the steward of Countess Beratte’s family was in the Labyrinth City probably wouldn’t have changed the outcome of that operation. The steward had indeed come to the Labyrinth City in the hopes of taking Malraux’s place. If Malraux suffered an injury serious enough that he could no longer serve in the Labyrinth Suppression Forces, he could be brought back to the house of Countess Beratte. Likely confinement, or death, awaited him on his return. Afterward, the steward would return his dyed hair to its original blond color and live openly as Malraux. After a wound so severe, no one was likely to be suspicious of abnormalities in his face, voice, or memory. Countess Beratte had even sent Malraux a letter to act the part of a loving wife. Perhaps it was sent only for the expectation that multiple people would notice it during inspections, lending strength to the alibi. It was for this personal reason that Malraux and his two followers had been attacked in the alleyway. Two groups of visitors came to the house of Countess Beratte a few weeks after the attack on the Aguinas family. The first was a group of soldiers from the Labyrinth Suppression Forces bringing Malraux, who they’d reported had suffered a grievous injury. “Malraux” had been injured so badly that only his sparsely remaining hair and greenish-blue eyes could distinguish him, most likely a result of intense pain. His injuries had been treated countless times with healing magic and potions, and reports claimed that it hadn’t been possible to heal this “Malraux” any further than this in the Labyrinth City. Countess Beratte started insisting this man wasn’t her husband after seeing that he wasn’t eating enough or even speaking. Walking unassisted was impossible for the so-called Malraux. However, a soldier that accompanied the broken man took a potion from his breast pocket and used it on the man and Countess Beratte’s son to prove they were related by blood. This was a blood relation potion used to expose faithlessness. Up until recently, it hadn’t existed in this ley line’s region. It was an item that became available after an alchemist had appeared in the Labyrinth City. “Father? Are you really my father?” Although he’d been away from home for a long time, the father was very dear to his son. The young boy cried in sympathy for his so thoroughly altered parent. After the blood relation potion was used, Countess Beratte seemed to understand the situation. Offering only the words “If you use several special-grade potions, you might be able to expect some amount of recovery,” the Labyrinth Suppression Forces soldiers promptly departed. Soon after, came the second group of visitors. “Countess Beratte, we wish to speak with you about the smuggling of weapons to the family of small nations.” It was a group of inquisitors from the Empire. “The territory of Countess Beratte’s family was seized, but she and her family apparently escaped capital punishment. It’s clear Malraux had nothing to do with the smuggling, and the steward, the principal offender, is unaccounted for. Your house has been acquitted. It seems that three people are now barely scraping by on ‘Malraux’s’ pension,” Dick commented to the blond-haired, blue-eyed man. “Hmm, is that so?” the man answered with a distinct disinterest. “There’s a rumor that, despite the treason toward the Empire, the emperor was deeply moved by the countess’s devotion to her paralyzed husband and saw fit to show them mercy, Malraux.” “Mercy, huh…?” The steward’s wish, to be called “Father” by his own son, was sure to be granted now. However, could a mother and child so accustomed to luxury really be happy in a life of poverty with an unsightly man who could no longer move? How would the man who lived with such a wife and child feel? The pension given to the other Malraux was three gold coins a year. The best they could do with that amount of money was have enough to eat. Buying new dresses was a thing of the past for them now. Then there were the words the Labyrinth Suppression Forces soldiers had left with them, “If you use several special-grade potions, you might be able to expect some recovery.” If there had been no possibility, they probably would have accepted it. But would a wife who didn’t work really arrange for special-grade potions for her husband when his pension was barely enough to feed her? No matter how much his wife and child might come to loathe him or were cruel to him, the pension would only be paid to “Malraux.” They wouldn’t be able to send the man away. “It’s a vicious punishment,” said Malraux, now just a commoner, before parting ways with Dick and heading for home. If you worked in the intelligence unit, your existence would need to be erased sooner or later, so Malraux had no regrets in handing over his name. In return for turning in the information he’d gotten from the steward to the imperial capital, no fault was found with Malraux’s parents or his family. For him, it wasn’t a bad way to put an end to things. Considering the crimes the family of Countess Beratte had committed, one might’ve said the emperor’s judgment was unusually lenient. However. “Welcome home, dear.” “Welcome home, Father.” Warm light shone through the Labyrinth City at dusk. Malraux returned to the home where warm food, his wife, and daughter waited for him. The husband earned good money, and though the wife and daughter weren’t furnished with expensive attire, they were happy and waiting for him. It was a comfortable house where steam rose from well-prepared meals and the cleaning was scrupulously done. The home welcomed Malraux as a gentle, respectable husband and father who did honest work. It was the life Malraux had made for himself. He deserved to enjoy it.