Ten days later, Sheila dropped by again. We found ourselves back in the reception hall sitting face-to-face like last time.
“The appraiser was rather stunned,” she told me.
“Uh, sure...” I replied absently, my attention straying from her words and instead drawn toward a spot on the floor.
“What’s the matter?”
“Well... Is that okay...?” I decided to ask.
Sheila followed my gaze to where Crimson Rose was lying on the floor just as it had been ten days ago. It almost looked like a piece of clothing that someone forgot to load into the laundry basket. Had this been a bedroom, I could imagine it being buried under the owner’s other belongings.
“It failed to suggest any good countermeasures in ten whole days, so it is being punished,” Sheila explained plainly.
“Oh...”
During their last visit, Sheila had challenged me with Crimson Rose as her weapon. It seemed the magic sword had failed to redeem itself since then. Well, I guess that’s just how they are... Best to leave them be. The glow of Crimson Rose’s blade was pulsating sadly like a puppy abandoned in the rain, but I decided to ignore it.
“Anyway...” I cleared my throat. “What were you saying? Something about an appraiser?”
“Ah, yes. The ancient document you gave me yesterday—I showed it to an antique appraiser, and they were exceedingly impressed. I was told that the parchment and ink showed clear signs of age. They couldn’t imagine the family tree contained in it was fabricated.”
“Well, it did age two hundred years.” After two hundred hours in the dust box, the document came out two centuries old. Things went exactly as planned—I couldn’t help feeling a little giddy over it. “Did you try appraising it for magic?”
“Of course. Forgery through magic is always the first suspect, after all.”
“And it sounds like...we’re in the clear?”
Sheila nodded. “Certainly.”
Once again, all according to plan.
Our goal was to make Sheila’s fake family tree look real. When presented with something unbelievable, it was only natural to check its authenticity on all fronts—including magical forgery, for example.
Now, it wouldn’t have been too hard to ask Sheila for the usual method of appraisal, then craft a spell to circumvent it. The dust box in itself, however, was already a safe bet in that regard. It didn’t directly alter its contents with magic—all it did was speed up their time, which meant the document in our hands was, in fact, a genuine two-centuries-old item. I’d even confirmed long ago, from all the times I’d made alcohol with it, that the dust box left no traces of mana on the things stored inside it.
All in all, I was right to place my bets on it. It was exactly what we needed!
“Sounds like that document will prove useful, then.”
“Certainly. This has boosted my legitimacy by leaps and bounds.”
“Great to hear.”
“It is all thanks to you,” Sheila said. “Allow me to offer you my own personal thanks at a later date.”
“It was no big deal. You don’t have to.”
“Unfortunately, I am not such an ungrateful brute.”
Uh, nobody’s saying you are. It’s not that serious...
“Let her,” Lardon cut in. “Her pride will not allow her to incur too many debts at once.”
Somehow, that helped everything click into place for me. Sheila was a prideful woman. If she felt the need to repay me, I’d be doing her no favors by refusing.
“All right, then. I’ll look forward to it.”
“Please do. My predecessors have preached that distant debts are to be repaid tenfold.”
“Distant debts...? What does that mean?”
“The idea goes as such: When family and friends do you a favor, you can simply thank them. But when strangers and outsiders do you the same favor, you must repay them properly and generously.”
“Ohh...” An interesting and very understandable take. The less associated you were with someone, the more grateful you had to be for their offered help. It just felt right that way. “Though that also makes it sound like incurring debt with outsiders is inefficient... Hmm?”
“What’s the matter?”
Something just came to me. Instead of responding to Sheila, I dragged my gaze to the side, where Crimson Rose lay on the floor like a discarded weapon.
“Hmm? What about that thing?” Sheila asked.
“You might...” I muttered, slowly turning my gaze back to her. “Sheila, you might be able to get even stronger.”
The girl’s eyes sparkled. “Please, do elaborate.”
She looked far more eager to hear about this than she had been to create her ancient family tree, the so-called debt she’d incurred. That was very like her. But also, I felt like—
“Hah... Among the humans, she must be the most compatible with you,” Lardon mused, putting into words exactly what I was thinking at the moment.