Chapter 104 - The Man in the Fog (1)

The World of voices was a world of deep colors.

Inside Alicia's amber, seen through that world, there had been an autumn landscape.

A single maple tree rising tall amid a wide wheat field.

Vlad still remembered the fallen leaves drifting down through the red twilight.

It had been an intense, beautiful landscape, and one that somehow seemed sad.

"Still, I can see a little now."

Vlad closed his left eye and looked at the amber set into the end of the hilt.

Though he could not see it as vividly and clearly as he had in the World of voices, he could at least make out the maple tree swaying in the wind.

"Where could this be?"

Before he knew it, talking to himself had become a habit, and Vlad sat on the bed and murmured quietly, but now there was no longer anyone there to answer him.

Only the blue moonlight pouring in through the window stroked Vlad's shoulder.

CRACKLE!

A tiny spark of lightning leaped from Vlad's closed left eye.

Vlad had not been able to answer when the voice told him to meet in a deeper world.

But if the voice were to ask him once more now, he would be able to answer clearly.

That he would.

That they should meet again in a deeper, wider world.

In the dark room lit only by moonlight, a single streak of white lightning had taken root in Vlad's eye.

※※※※

"What do you think?"

After having the table laden with vegetables and fruit cleared away, the Count of Vitskaya lifted a warm teacup and asked.

Though he had eaten a healthy meal fit for elves, his face after the meal was filled only with deeply furrowed wrinkles.

"It was certain that the knight named Vlad is a Dragon Slayer."

No amount of double- and triple-checking was too much when it came to work.

Especially if that work was confirming a suspicious person.

"And?"

"... I also confirmed his skill. Among the knights we currently have left, there was no knight who could stand against the knight named Vlad."

Five knights had been sent at Vlad under the guise of sparring.

And of them, three had been beaten so badly that they would be unable to carry out duties for some time.

If it had been a real fight, their heads would have fallen.

"What about you?"

At the count's question, asked as if in provocation, the captain of the knights bit his lip.

"Nine times out of ten, I would win."

"... Which means if you fought ten times, you might lose once or twice."

The Count of Vitskaya remembered very well just how much gold the knight bowing his head before him was paid.

'A mere eighteen-year-old...'

Even his own captain of the knights, who had once made a name for himself in his youth, could not guarantee a perfect victory.

Then there was no need even to mention the empty husks who could not use aura.

"How about hanging the guards by their necks?"

"Excuse me?"

They had failed to recognize a true knight.

Their first impression had been disastrous enough to leave him standing outside in the cold, so he would not be easy to move.

"It would be nice if he were a fellow with a somewhat open mind..."

Knights were people who valued honor.

What he had done had certainly been discourteous, but there should still be a chance.

The count could only hope that the young knight understood even a little about how the world worked.

※※※※

"..."

Vlad watched the tea trickle down before him.

An exquisite green light sparkled in the sunlight.

At the color of the tea, clear enough to see the bottom of the cup, Vlad unconsciously leaned his head closer.

He did not know what had been steeped in it, but the thick scent of grass entered through his nose and made even his eyes feel refreshed.

"I understand the culture of drinking tea like this is not developed in the North?"

"If we were going to drink steeped tree leaves, we'd pick up a bottle of liquor instead."

Though his words were blunt, Vlad could not take his eyes off the tea, and the Count of Vitskaya smiled warmly at the sight.

Indeed, even an uncivilized northerner could not help but be interested the moment he saw this tea.

"It is elven tea. It was picked from the forest at the far eastern edge and specially processed."

"Elven..."

The moment Vlad heard the word elven from the count's mouth, he ran his tongue over his lips.

But he soon straightened his posture as if nothing had happened and looked at the count.

During a deal, one must not reveal what one wanted.

Marcella, the Rose of Soara, had told him so.

"One of the main businesses of our territory is handling specialties from the elves, such as this. After all, the people in the central region go weak at the knees for anything related to elves."

Until then, the Count of Vitskaya's house had been little more than an insignificant rural family, but after the current Count of Vitskaya took the title, it had become something entirely different.

He had gambled everything for his declining house, and in the end, he had become one of the few channels connecting elves and humans.

"For example, the tea before you now is valued more highly than the same weight in gold."

"..."

Elves were a long-lived race, and their mysterious way of life was more than enough to arouse the curiosity of the central nobles.

Even the tea placed before Vlad now had absurd rumors circulating about it, claiming that it could extend one's lifespan.

"Gold, you say. Is it worth that much?"

"I do not know whether it truly extends one's lifespan, but at the very least, it is certainly good for the body. It is especially effective for coughs, one might say."

Rumors were bound to be exaggerated, and elven tea was not some mystical herb that extended life.

However, unlike the elven tea, the blond knight before him truly was a knight who had killed a dragon just as the rumors said, so the count could not help but be cautious in how he treated the real thing.

"Shall I give you some to take with you?"

Only after hearing the count's words did Vlad finally raise his head.

It seemed he had been lost in other thoughts for a moment at the words that it was good for the body and especially effective for coughs.

"Would I be worth that much?"

Vlad looked at the count with a small smile and asked in return.

There was surely a reason the count had called him and was trying to show him goodwill.

"The knights of the North truly are nothing if not bold! I like that!"

Realizing that Vlad was ready to hear his offer, the count laughed and lifted his teacup.

Since he had come from the North, the count had expected him to be a close-minded fellow, but unexpectedly, he was someone who could be reasoned with.

"I place high value on your skill, since you are said to have taken down even a dragon. So there is something I would like to ask of you..."

His ploys were shallow, and his actions fickle.

But if both sides had something to give, there was no need to hesitate to join hands.

"Recently, someone has been hiding along my trade route and plundering my goods. Quite troublesome."

"Bandits?"

Vlad lifted the teacup and took a sip.

It tasted bad.

"They are probably not bandits."

The Count of Vitskaya laughed as he watched the northern knight make a sour face with teacup in hand.

There were truly many meanings contained in that laugh.

"Because my knights who were escorting the caravan were all struck down."

It might have been a disgrace, but there was no shame at all in the count's words.

He was a man who did not hesitate to reach out even to a knight he had looked down on, if that was what it took to seek help.

"Even your knights?"

"Yes, and that is why I say it is troublesome."

Vlad's expression furrowed at the words that even the knights had been unable to handle it.

The skills of Vitskaya's knights, as he had gauged through the sparring, were certainly not particularly impressive.

If anything, this sparring had made him realize what kind of place Bayezid was.

"If even your knights could not handle it, Count, would I be able to?"

Still, Vlad did not hesitate to make a show of weakness.

Just like the count before him, the knight from the back alleys was the sort of person who did not mind appearing weak if it raised his own price.

But the count cut off Vlad's pointless trick with a single smile.

"Vlad of Soara, and slayer of the Lindwurm."

"..."

"I believe that you, acknowledged not only by San Rosino but by several houses of the North, will be able to do it."

With those words, the count held out a small black pouch.

Inside the pouch, which he had deliberately left slightly open, a glittering golden light was spilling out.

"If you drive off that unidentified plunderer, I will give you even more."

"It may be difficult for me alone."

"That is fine as well."

The Count of Vitskaya looked at Vlad with a deep smile.

The count had an inexhaustible golden stream, but the unidentified plunderer was blocking that very stream.

For now, he could endure it, but if that stream continued to be blocked, eventually even his own neck would be seized.

"I will be satisfied if you drive them away, even for a short while."

No matter how much the brat before him was a Dragon Slayer, there were several knights in the central region with this level of skill.

If he completely resolved the problem, the count would have nothing more to wish for, but since he was using him because he was cheap anyway, it would be enough if he simply held out until a truly renowned knight could be invited.

"... Understood, Count. I will do my best."

Vlad smiled back at the count, who had finally revealed his true intentions.

"Instead, I would like to receive something other than gold coins."

With those words, Vlad took only a few gold coins from the open pouch and quietly returned it to the count.

"... Is there something else you want from me?"

Value was relative.

To the count, gold coins were something he had in abundance, but Vlad was not a man moved by money.

"As a wandering knight, I wish to see the wide world."

Even when standing in the mire of the back alleys, Vlad had struggled not to let go of himself.

Even if he was soaked in that filthy gutter, the boy's soul had tried to look toward something bright.

"I have come this far, so how could I not enter an elven city even once?"

He had promised the voice that he would find its name.

That promise was heavier than the pouch of gold coins before him.

"And I would also like a box of the elven tea said to be good for the body."

Even now, there would be a man in Soara suppressing his cough with heated wine.

He was the man to whom Vlad had sworn he would offer his faith.

The sound of Joseph's frail cough had always weighed heavily on one corner of Vlad's heart.

"... You wish to enter an elven city?"

Seeing Vlad ask for something he had not expected at all, the Count of Vitskaya leaned deeply back against his chair.

As expected, those who possessed something real and unshakable were not tempted by glittering gold.

"Under that condition, merely discovering their identity will not be enough."

The count frowned as if troubled.

Though Vlad spoke of it easily, it was not a simple matter of letting just one person in.

Exchange with the elves was a small hole he had opened by staking the future of his house and his entire life, and so the reward Vlad demanded was no different from placing a great burden on the count.

"I will resolve it."

But Vlad could not yield on this matter either.

Now that he knew not just anyone could enter an elven city, he had to obtain the count's cooperation somehow.

"So that the unidentified plunderer will never again covet your trade route, Count."

The count of the central region and the knight of the North were looking into each other's eyes.

So long as they each had something to give, they could smile while drinking bitter tea, and they could show goodwill even before someone they looked down on.

"Very well."

Because that was what a deal was.

Their joined hands quietly shook above the pouch of gold coins.

※※※※

In the dark night, on a stone bridge crossing an impossibly high cliff.

Amid the thick fog, damp enough that even breathing felt wet, the coachman trembled.

The coachman was not trembling simply because the atmosphere was eerie.

"U-uuugh..."

Men lay sprawled on the bridge just ahead of him as if dead.

Among them, Vitskaya's broken flag lay rolling on the ground.

Everyone lying there was a knight the count had chosen and sent.

"Are the elven goods inside?"

"Eek, eee..."

An unidentified man wearing a gray hood that came down to his knees.

His sharp voice, like metal scraping, created an intense revulsion in anyone who heard it.

"Yes! Please spare me!"

The coachman quickly prostrated himself on the ground and wailed loudly.

It felt as though the thickly settled fog was swallowing his voice.

CREEEAK!

A chilling sound came from behind him, but the coachman lay flat on the ground and did not raise his eyes.

Because if he happened to open his eyes, he feared he might meet the hooded man.

On the narrow stone bridge in the thick fog, a single faint light was falling down below the cliff.

Along with a wagon loaded full of cargo.

Once even that faint light disappeared from the bridge, only darkness filled the stone bridge once more.