Chapter 312 - Inheritance (1)

Allua Raven had chosen a fairly well-known upscale restaurant in District 7 for the clan members' first get-together in some time.

Naturally, this was her first visit. Meeting somewhere they used to frequent would only stir up memories and leave her feeling even more depressed.

"Aren't we going to order?"

"Not everyone's here yet."

At Raven's curt reply, Avman looked uncomfortable. An awkward silence settled over them.

"No, we're all here," Aynar said. "... Misha said she wasn't coming. I hoped she might change her mind, but if she isn't here by now, she won't be coming."

"... I see. So it's just the three of us."

Raven sighed without realizing it. Similar sighs followed from beside her. Of course, they must all have felt the same bitterness.

"Raven."

"Yes, Mr. Urigfried?"

"What about... Erwin? Did you contact her?"

"I sent her a letter, at least. I told her to come because we needed to discuss the shares from our last expedition, and Mr. Jandel's... estate."

She had only contacted the elf as a matter of courtesy, of course. She hadn't expected her to come, not after the way she had acted before leaving.

"Did she reply?"

"No. So once we've settled the accounts, I'll just send her share by mail too."

"... I see."

"Anyway, never mind that elf. I never imagined Misha wouldn't come either. She's the most important person in this matter, so I thought she'd definitely be here."

Raven let out a deep sigh and looked at Aynar before asking cautiously, "... How is Misha? Is she doing all right?"

She was genuinely worried about her. The last time she had seen her was during the funeral procession organized by the royal family. Even then, they had been far apart, and it hadn't been the right atmosphere to approach her, so they had barely exchanged a word.

How was she holding up?

"... How could she be all right? She stays shut in her room all day and barely eats. I forced her to eat once, and she threw up."

"I see..."

"That's why I hardly go home these days. She seems more uncomfortable when I'm there."

"Then where are you staying, Aynar?"

"At the sanctuary. Misha seems to eat at least a little when I'm not there, so I just bought a lot of food and left it in the house."

"... That's a relief, at least."

"Raven, what do you think? Is it all right to leave Misha like this?"

"Well..."

Raven answered based on her own experiences over the past month.

"First of all, I think she's not eating because she feels guilty. You know? The very act of eating... feels so uncomfortable..."

She was rambling, quite unlike her usual self, but Aynar and Avman nodded in understanding.

"Ah, that."

"I think I know what you mean. But then what?"

"... I don't know either. How to help Misha, I mean. Giving her some time alone might not be a bad idea, but I don't know if that's the right answer."

"True. It's not as though you'd have all the answers."

Aynar surely hadn't meant any harm, but Raven felt both frustrated and sorrowful.

She wasn't wrong. If he had been here, he would have known just what to do.

"Let's order first. They'll throw us out if we keep sitting here wasting time."

Perhaps sensing something was wrong, Avman changed the subject. Raven, too, moved on from the heavy topic and helped choose their food.

"Oh, I've never been here before, but the food's excellent. What are you two doing? Eat."

"Ah, yes..."

Once the food arrived, they talked as they ate, then finally got down to business.

"Dividing the loot was straightforward. I just had to split everything we obtained that day five ways. The problem is the estate... Have you both read Mr. Jandel's will?"

"Yes. There was absolutely nothing in it except the proportions for dividing his estate. Well, I suppose that was just like him..."

Avman trailed off, then gave a faint chuckle. Very cautiously, he asked a question.

"But isn't it a little strange?"

"Strange?"

"The proportions. Frankly, I can't understand why he divided things up like that."

"Ah, that..."

Raven nodded slightly in agreement.

She, too, had been surprised at first. She had never imagined he would stipulate that all five of them receive exactly twenty percent each. She had naturally expected most of his wealth to go to Misha or Aynar.

But that wasn't what Bjorn Jandel had done. Since he had only specified percentages rather than deciding exactly who would receive what, they would have to agree among themselves on the individual items. The proportions, however, were equal.

And the reason was probably...

"Judging by the way you trailed off, you have some idea why?"

Raven answered with a bitter smile.

"It's obvious, isn't it? Why Mr. Jandel did it."

That clever barbarian warrior had wanted them not to resent one another, even after his death.

He had wanted them to keep caring for one another, just as before.

"... On second thought, I don't think we can leave Misha like this."

Yes. That was surely what he would have wanted.

* * *

Three days after my visit to the Round Table, Amelia and I went to the lord's castle in our full equipment for the first time in a while.

There, we met a man at the appointed spot.

"Good to meet you. You're Iron Mask, I take it?"

The name he used in Noark was Felik Barker. He was the leader of the clan to which the young Reinweils sisters belonged as beaters.

They had thirteen members in total, if I remembered right.

"Good to meet you. I'm Iron Mask."

I also had the alias Bjorn, son of Thor, but I simply introduced myself by my nickname instead.

That wasn't a problem. Plenty of people in this city used their nicknames as aliases.

"Let's go in."

I followed him into the clan house inside the lord's castle, and the smell of alcohol hit me. In the trendily decorated interior, rough-looking clan members lounged wherever they pleased, drinking and puffing away on cigarettes.

What was this, a criminal hideout?

"Care for a drink?"

Once we sat on the sofa opposite him, Felik Barker offered us bottles of liquor.

"I'll pass."

Amelia refused flatly, while I accepted a bottle. It would look too strange if both of us refused. Besides, we were here to join this clan. In this city, turning down a drink meant you didn't trust the person offering it.

So...

CLICK

I worked the joint to lift only the jaw section of my helmet, then took a swig.

Felik Barker grinned.

"Good, good. I like you. Ah, there's something I'd like to ask. May I?"

"Go ahead."

"Why did you choose our clan?"

The answer was simple. Because the Reinweils sisters belonged to it. This was the most natural way to stay close to them when that incident happened three months from now.

Not that I could tell him that.

"Emily said you were the ones who made the offer."

"But if even half the rumors about you are true, you could have found somewhere better."

I gave him the answer I'd prepared.

"Being in a clan sounds convenient, but in a place like that, we'd get a smaller share."

"You'd rather have a troll's head than an ogre's claw, then."

"Yes. Is that a problem?"

Felik Barker stared at me as if trying to discern my true intentions.

There was no way that would work. Seriously, I had an iron helmet over my face. Could he even see my eyes properly?

Just as I was thinking that...

"Hah! Hahahahaha!"

He suddenly burst out laughing, his eyes gleaming.

Unlike Auriel Gabis, he was simply ridiculous. How should I put it? Like some pompous idiot determined to stay in character. Even his voice had an oddly theatrical quality that grated on my nerves.

"Good. Very good."

"What's good?"

"I mean I like you two even more now."

"Then are we in?"

"No, not yet."

Felik Barker waved a finger leisurely, pretending to be some mafia boss.

"We operate on merit. Apart from me, there are three ranks in the clan, and your rank determines your share on expeditions. And we haven't seen what you can do yet."

"...?"

"Have you heard the saying 'the strong devour the weak'?"

"I have."

"Then this should be simple. If you want the troll's head, take it. Prove yourself. The world you're standing in is that kind of—"

Ah, so that was what he was getting at.

"Fine."

"Hm...?"

"You want to see whether the rumors are true."

"Well, yes..."

"Then why are you talking so much?"

I sprang to my feet, and Felik Barker looked up at me, taken aback.

What, had he thought acting all impressive would scare me? You were supposed to skip through these minor events as quickly as possible.

"Enough. Just tell me already. Do I have to kill you?"

"... Challenges are only allowed between members. And I didn't say you had to kill—"

Oh, what a letdown.

"Then who do I have to kill?"

As I spoke, I swept my gaze over the clan members around us. One big fellow flinched when our eyes met.

"Judging by that, he's supposed to be my opponent."

"He is. But just because it's a challenge doesn't mean you have to kill—"

What was he babbling about now?

I strode forward with murderous intent, and the big fellow backed away, overwhelmed, throwing a glance at Felik Barker.

It was the unmistakable look of someone begging to be saved.

Felik Barker finally collected himself and spoke.

"W-wait! There's an open yard out back."

"Oh, then let's move there."

"A-and using Abilities during challenges is forbidden."

Huh. I hadn't expected a no-skills rule. That meant fighting with nothing but passives and raw stats.

Was this Noark, the world of real men, living up to its reputation?

"So I have to kill him without using Abilities... Well, that shouldn't be too difficult."

After a moment's thought, I readily accepted the rule.

But what was this now?

Felik Barker answered in a tiny voice.

"I'd prefer it if nobody died, if possible..."

I was genuinely surprised.

"Then how am I supposed to rank up?"

"... You only need to make him surrender."

"What? I can rank up without killing him?"

Weren't bloody promotion matches standard practice in an underworld like this?

Besides, hadn't he just said the strong devoured the weak?

"What the hell is going on? Does that make any sense?"

I looked at him as though I truly couldn't understand. As it happened, his eyes held a similar expression.

"Didn't you... say you'd only been in Noark for a month?"

"And?"

"Never mind..."

Felik Barker was the first to look away.

* * *

In a dark room with thick cloth covering the windows, Misha Karlstein sat up, her eyes hollow.

Another day had begun.

She drew the curtain aside just enough to confirm it was daytime, then lay back down.

Sleep wouldn't return. Her unwashed body was drenched in the sweat of last night's nightmares.

And she was so hungry it hurt.

A searing ache.

"..."

Misha dragged her haggard body out of the room and stopped outside Jandel's door, which she hadn't touched since that day. It felt as though she could simply turn the handle and find the person she was waiting for asleep inside.

But in the end, she couldn't open the door today either.

She turned away listlessly and trudged downstairs.

Like the second floor, the first was dark. She had drawn every curtain because people kept coming by, saying they wanted to leave flowers, at least.

Misha murmured in a dry voice.

"She came... and went again..."

On the downstairs dining table lay a note in Aynar's crooked handwriting, telling her to check the food cupboard because she had filled it.

CLACK

Misha looked inside the cupboard.

Rye bread and the vegetables she often used in her cooking. Meat and fruit, too.

It was filled mostly with things she used to enjoy eating.

But...

"Urgh."

Just looking at them made her gag. She couldn't even bear their smell.

Bjorn had liked rye bread. Meat went without saying. She had always bought plenty of vegetables because he was such a picky eater, and since there were leftovers every day, she had ended up eating them often.

In the end, Misha shut the cupboard again as though fleeing.

But she knew it herself.

She still had to eat. Otherwise, she would ruin her health.

Jandel wouldn't have wanted that.

"Bjorn..."

In the dark, unlit kitchen, she collapsed into a chair and sobbed for a long time before getting up and approaching the cupboard again.

That was when it happened.

"Oh, you're here? I thought nobody was home."

An unfamiliar man's voice came from behind her.

'A thief?'

Misha grabbed the knife on the cutting board and spun around. Her movement was far too swift for someone who looked so utterly broken.

But...

"Whoa, whoa. That's dangerous."

The intruder caught her knife-wielding wrist and subdued her with effortless ease. She strained against his grip, but he was so strong that his arm didn't budge.

"We haven't seen each other in ages, and you start swinging a knife? Is that any way to greet someone?"

"In ages...?"

Misha unconsciously looked up at the intruder's face. It was hard to see in the darkness.

But something about him was familiar.

He was human. His skin was white as snow, without a single scar, as though he had led a sheltered life. His platinum-blond hair, a symbol of nobility, was neatly swept back.

And above all...

["Red Cat Tribe girl, are you a Player?"]

["Huh? P-Prayer?"]

["I'm asking if you're an evil spirit."]

["N-n-no, I'm not...?"]

That distinctive manner of speaking, light yet chilling.

It quickly brought back her memory of this man.

"You're... that man from...!"

"Looks like you remember. I'm Lee Baekho. I'll let go now, so behave yourself."

"..."

The man who had given the strange name Lee Baekho released her arm as promised. Misha cradled her stinging wrist and stepped back.

The platinum-haired man smiled as if to reassure her.