Chapter 153

Encounter (2)

Iliana had recently become a fully qualified mage. Unlike apprentices, fully qualified mages were permitted contact with the outside world. More importantly, I had been sponsoring her under Predator Merchant Company's name from the outset, so I could contact her whenever I pleased.

By the time I finished everything I needed to do in Frecce, a full day had passed. With the morning sun rising, I was waiting for Adlan so we could return to the county...

"I hear Whitewolf county is terribly cold, sir!"

Adlan appeared bundled up in layer upon layer of clothing.

... For a moment, I mistook him for a bear. He was so round that he looked as though he would never get up again if someone knocked him over.

"But your humble servant has come fully prepared! Nothing to worry about, sir!"

... He had overdone it a little. It was cold all year round, of course, but winter had already passed. There was no need to wear quite that many layers. Just as he had said, he really seemed never to have visited Whitewolf county.

"Adlan, didn't you say you'd signed a contract for the county's wine bottles?"

"I did, sir."

"But you've never been to the county?"

"... Ah, well, I signed it through Predator Merchant Company when they came to Frecce, you see. I didn't visit the territory myself."

So that was it.

* * *

The county's icy wind stirred the gray hood pulled low over Isolde's head, revealing a glimpse of her face: pale pink lips and fine ivory skin. Amid her radiant platinum hair, her topaz-like eyes slowly surveyed the county.

Houses built from gray stone interwoven with steel. Roads smoothly paved with solid stone.

... It was astonishing. No, magnificent. And not simply because it looked beautiful.

In the square before the castle gates:

"This silk comes from the new weaving workshop. It's a brand-new color."

"... Now that's a gorgeous shade!"

"We also have pottery from the Obsidian Kiln!"

Merchants briskly exchanged their wares.

"Take this! My finishing move!"

"Aaaaargh! So powerfuuul...!"

"Children! Watch out for the carriage!"

Plump, well-fed children ran and played in the streets around the square.

Above all, there was that short figure walking right down the county's main street.

'A dwarf?'

... This was impossible to believe. Dwarves were a race that did not trust humans. They absolutely, categorically—

"The weaving machine you made is wonderful, Master Boldin! My back doesn't even hurt anymore!"

"Think nothing of it. Little Monster Brother's people are as good as our friends! Let me know if you have any other trouble!"

—never showed kindness like that. Far from helping humans, dwarves were reluctant even to interact with them.

'How...?'

Isolde's eyes wavered. Somehow, everywhere she looked was overflowing with life. Above all, there was the training ground in the snowfields.

"Who are we?!"

"Monstrian's soldiers!"

"Today's training is Monstrian-level too, so brace yourselves!"

The Visters she had seen in Violess were training there.

But they were criminals. And people could not change. They merely pretended to change; they never truly did. That had long been Isolde's belief.

Yet Adrian thought differently. Gods could not change, but people could.

["Wasn't I a wastrel myself?"]

Even if it was difficult.

... It had been hard to believe. But now she had no choice. She could no longer see the madness and violence of Violess in them. The scene before her eyes... was unquestionably real.

Her gaze grew thoughtful.

And just then, she sensed a peculiar gaze from behind. When she turned to look—

"Eek!"

A catlike girl darted into an alley.

The silver hair she had failed to conceal shone as though it held moonlight. The eyes secretly peering at Isolde were red. Those beautiful, ruby-like eyes belonged to Seraphia Whitewolf.

When their gazes met, Seraphia timidly emerged.

"Ah... um... I..."

Her shoulders were hunched like a cat's, as though she was afraid of Isolde. But only for a moment.

"Thank you for healing me!"

Seraphia bowed deeply, bending a full ninety degrees at the waist.

Isolde approached her.

"Eek!"

Seraphia took a step back, her face taut with nerves. Hoping to reassure her, Isolde gave a small smile.

"Are you feeling well?"

"... Pardon? Oh, yes! I'm completely fine, thanks to you!"

Seraphia raised her slender arms to demonstrate. She certainly seemed well.

"Ummm..."

"Isolde."

"Pardon?"

"My name is Isolde."

"... Ohhh. Then, Sister Isolde."

Isolde blinked. Sister...? No one had ever addressed her that way before. When she gave her name, people usually called her Saintess Isolde or Cardinal Isolde. Most addressed her as Your Eminence.

But Sister? She had no idea how to respond to this unfamiliar, affectionate address.

"May I ask what your relationship with my brother is?!"

Isolde fell silent for a moment. Even she did not know what she and Adrian were to each other. They had met only once. There was no particular relationship she could define.

Still, if she had to say...

"We're friends."

But even that felt awkward. Was their relationship deep enough to call them friends? Or was it light enough to call them friends?

Come to think of it, she had tried to kill Adrian when they first met. But then there had been everything that happened in Violess. Those moments when they entrusted their lives to one another and risked them fighting for the people.

Perhaps that was why calling Adrian a friend felt awkward, yet somehow not entirely wrong—

"His girlfriend?!!"

Seraphia cried out in shock. Her ruby-like eyes trembled as though an earthquake had struck.

"No, not that."

"Huh...?"

"Just friends."

"... Oh! Ohhh, right."

Seraphia smiled sheepishly and scratched her cheek.

"There's another lady Brother exchanges love letters with."

"... Love letters?"

It was just then that a calm voice came from one side.

"Count."

Turning her head, Seraphia saw a man with slicked-back hair walking toward them.

"Viscount Bernard?"

She tilted her head.

As Bernard approached, he flinched briefly at the sight of Isolde. But he soon straightened and spoke.

"A guest has just arrived in the county."

* * *

Several days had passed since we left Frecce. The journey had taken considerably longer than expected, since unexpectedly traveling with Adlan meant I couldn't pick up the pace. Still, the familiar scenery told me we were almost at the county.

When I looked back, Adlan was following me, panting. Though if I pushed him as he was, he looked as if he might roll all the way back to Frecce.

As I watched him, I spoke.

"By the way, Adlan."

"Haaah...! Y-yes? Ah, yes! Go ahead, sir!"

"Have you decided on a surname?"

"A surname, sir?"

"You've been granted a barony, so you need to choose one now."

"... Ahhh."

Adlan nodded in understanding.

"Actually, about that, sir..."

"You haven't chosen one yet?"

"I don't know how to go about it, you see."

"Hmm?"

"I understand each kingdom has its own naming conventions."

"And?"

"What if I recklessly choose one without knowing any better and end up with a name like 'John Sakamoto'?"

"Ahhh."

John Sakamoto. A character from a folktale famous across the continent.

He was born in a small rural village—a village inhabited entirely by women, at that. Naturally, it was a place where no child could be conceived. People whispered that his mother must have slept with a stranger, but she adamantly denied it.

Then there was his obviously unusual surname, Sakamoto. All she would say, over and over, was that she had heard it in a dream.

After that, as folktales usually went, John Sakamoto was persecuted by the villagers, and so on. He and his mother relied on each other, and so forth. He helped when the village was in danger, this and that. He distinguished himself when war broke out and threatened the kingdom, blah blah blah.

After the war ended, he married a beautiful princess and lived happily ever after.

Surprisingly, however, he is believed to have been a real person. His strange birth and extraordinary abilities led scholars to unanimously conclude that he was the bastard child of a nightmare and a human.

A cambion.

John Sakamoto was the first cambion.

... Anyway.

"You don't need to worry about that."

"Pardon? But—"

"Naming conventions mattered a long time ago. No one pays much attention to them now."

There were three main reasons.

The first was the inclusion of viscounts and barons among the nobility. Originally, viscounts and barons were not noble ranks. They were administrative posts appointed by high nobles of count rank or above to manage their territories.

In other words, they brought in capable people from various kingdoms, and most of those people were nobles. Even our county's Bernard was a noble from another kingdom, the second son of House Neville.

Then, if a count suddenly died for some reason, or failed to leave an heir—if, for whatever reason, the county was left without a count—those administrators simply swallowed up the territories they had been assigned.

Those were what we now called viscounties and baronies. After centuries of that history accumulated, the royal court eventually included viscounts and barons among the nobility as well.

That made the whole thing a complete mess. Naming conventions from different kingdoms began overlapping.

Then came the second reason. As exchanges between kingdoms grew more active, the mixing of different naming conventions came to be accepted naturally.

And finally, the decisive third reason.

"In the continent's common tongue, it's only a difference in pronunciation anyway."

They all used the same writing system, after all. Thus, even the kingdom's nobles placed little importance on naming conventions.

Take Queen Marceline, for example. Her full name was Marceline Charlotte de Battenberg.

Bluntly put, that was a hodgepodge. Following Battenberg conventions alone, the correct form would have been Marcellina Charlotte von Battenberg.

But as I'd said, the various bloodlines had been intermingling for a long time already. More importantly, with the continent's common tongue now in general use, naming forms that amounted to mere differences in pronunciation no longer meant anything.

"Then may I choose whatever I like, sir?!"

"It doesn't matter. Did you have something in mind?"

"Lucius Aquilinus Haopeng de Raja Montagne Kim Fujiwara Bloodhound. What do you think, sir?"

"...?"

"Is it not allowed...?"

"It's not forbidden, but that's going to be your house's name from now on. Isn't it too long?"

"Then how about Lucius Aquilinus Haopeng Raja Montagne Kim Fujiwara Bloodhound, sir?"

... What had changed? He'd dropped one 'de'?

"I absolutely love it, sir!"

"... Do as you please. Adlan Lucius Aquilinus Haopeng Raja Montagne..."

"Kim Fujiwara Bloodhound, sir!"

Adlan grinned foolishly as he said it. First Crow Dung Pot, and now this.

"Heheh, heheheh!"

... I didn't think I should let him name anything again.

And so, chatting with Adlan about this and that, we soon arrived at the county. Developed through dwarven technology, it looked magnificent even from afar.

"Eeeek!! That's Whitewolf county, sir?!"

Adlan was so shocked he looked ready to faint. But so was I. Not quite as shocked as Adlan, but considerably surprised.

'It looks even more developed somehow.'

For one thing, the castle walls were taller than before. The gaps between the bricks had been filled more tightly. They had clearly reinforced them while I was gone.

I knew how capable Engineering Command was from my previous life, but...

"Incred...! Incredible, sir!!"

The county truly was advancing by the day.

"To think that's really your territory, Lord Adrian...!"

Strictly speaking, it wasn't my territory, but... anyway.

"Lord Adrian has returned!!"

The soldiers atop the walls leaped up.

RUMBLE!

The steel gates opened with a thunderous roar, and Bernard was the first to rush out, breathless. Since he came running immediately, he had apparently been guarding the walls with the soldiers, just like last time.

It seemed...

"Bernard, has something happened?"

Something must have happened in the county while I was away. Sure enough, Bernard's expression was decidedly unusual...

"W-well, you see..."

Bernard didn't even seem to know where to begin explaining.

* * *

It had been a rare sight even in my previous life: Isolde, commander of Divine Command; Iliana, commander of Magic Command; and Brumbar, commander of Engineering Command. Three heroes gathered in one place.

And on top of that, Seraphia, the Sovereign of Bitter Cold.

In other words, three heroes and one Sovereign were gathered together—something I had never witnessed even once in my entire previous life...

"You slew an ogre?"

"Yes! ... Oh, not me. It was Brother, Sir Kai, and Chief Brumbar over there who slew it."

"The Eye of the Pilgrim said it was a flame-wreathed thunder hamster. Apparently not."

"... A hamster?"

Isolde and Seraphia seemed to be getting along rather well?

"Anyway, the ogre was enormous, but Brother didn't give an inch!"

"Adrian took the ogre head-on?"

"Yes! Even when that mountain-sized ogre charged at him—"

The two were chatting away so pleasantly that they hadn't even noticed my arrival.

Then there were Iliana and Brumbar.

"... But that design goes beyond engineering! Didn't you think anything was strange while you were designing it?!"

"From the perspective of human magical studies, perhaps. But not for us dwarves."

They, too, were so engrossed in their headache-inducing conversation that they hadn't noticed me.

It seemed all sorts of things had happened in the county while I was in Frecce...

'Hmm.'

... The bonds between people truly were a mystery.