Chapter 26
“I—interest… no, this person…!”
Harun probably didn’t know that Zaigelond was the rightful heir of the kingdom.
But he did realize the man was a dwarf.
Dwarven craftsmen are the kind who make lords eager to take them in, even for large estates.
So it was only natural they were shocked to see such a one come out of the room of their rotten scoundrel son.
“He’s a drinking buddy of mine… and he helped a lot last night stopping the sigibomb.”
“A drinking buddy?”
“Yes. He’s a fellow I used to drink and hang out with. We bumped into each other for a drink last night. We didn’t get to enjoy it properly because of what happened.”
“Ah…”
“And, if I may add—this friend of mine will be working for our house from now on.”
“What? What did you say? Is that true!?”
Aimon jumped at my words.
“Yes. He’s been drifting around because of personal circumstances… I suggested he stay and live in our county. What do you think?”
“That….”
Aimon stammered, unable to believe reality.
A stubborn fellow like that—someone it would take more than a few coins to hire—would be invited to live in this ragged countship?
“Ahem….”
But Harun saw it completely differently.
They’d be bringing in a dangerous person who nearly dragged their domain into disaster?
Maybe because he thought the sigibomb incident happened because of him, he might be on edge.
Harun leaned in and whispered to me.
“Are you sure this will work?”
“Don’t worry. You remember what we said last night, right?”
“You mean we’ll treat last night’s incident as something that happened because of you, and publicly he’ll go by the name ‘Bronze Beard’?”
“Right. You remembered well. That’s probably for the best. A dwarf who’s targeted for assassination by the dwarf king… even your father would find him awkward to deal with.”
“Ugh… understood.”
After confirming once more with Harun, I addressed Aimon.
“…Ahem! So. Father. What do you think?”
“Huh?”
“It’s been a while since he properly wielded a hammer… but this Bronze Beard! If he regains his old touch, I’m confident his skill won’t fall behind any dwarf. So… will you permit it?”
“Of course! We should be the ones thanking you!”
Aimon grasped Harun’s hand with tears in his eyes.
Sob! “To hear you say that! I will serve you both until my hands are split!”
Sob! “I too will support you in every way, without lacking anything!”
They embraced each other in delight.
A relationship built on a little fiction, but whatever.
If it’s for the best, fine.
The Blue Moon Tavern sigibomb incident.
The rumor spread like wildfire through neighboring domains.
“Last night at the Blue Moon Tavern a sigibomb went off!”
“A sigibomb? What crazy bastard did that?”
Within only two days, almost no one in the county hadn’t heard about that night’s incident; at this rate, it would be easy for word to reach the entire kingdom alliance.
Most importantly,
rumors tying me to the sigibomb incident were also spreading.
“That scoundrel prince stopped the sigibomb?”
“That’s what they say!”
“Ha! You live long enough to see anything!”
People are like that.
It’s hard to build a reputation, but one moment can overturn it.
If someone who’s always been kind makes a mistake, people will say, “I knew it all along! Must have been hard pretending!” People are prone to that.
The opposite reversal is a bit weaker, but this wasn’t a small act of kindness—it was stopping a sigibomb alone.
That alone was enough to flip people’s impressions.
“All right.”
I went to the marketplace early in the morning to eavesdrop on what people were saying.
I wanted to see how the rumor had spread and what people thought.
Thankfully, the rumor was going the right way.
Some crazy dark wizard set off a sigibomb in a residential area, and that rogue Ian Impera—the scoundrel—stopped it!
Something like that.
There were casualties, of course, but if Harun and I hadn’t been there the damage could have been worse.
If it had been handled poorly the damage might have reached the Impera countship.
“But who on earth did that?”
“A sigibomb? Must be the dark wizards, right?”
“Why would dark wizards do that in the countryside!? What’s that about?”
“Hmm… when you put it that way.”
Every action has a reason and corresponding consequences.
The sigibomb was the result. Then why? Why target a backwater domain that’s not under the alliance’s direct sway?
Was there some grudge?
“Could it be… from the Venerre side trying to target the prince? I heard Prince Ian was there.”
“Shh! You idiot! What nonsense is that! Even if our count and he don’t get along, a noble is a noble! Do you want to be executed for sacrilege?”
“Well… I’m just saying.”
The noisy speakers immediately stiffened at those words.
I quietly slipped past them.
“Hmm.”
Commoners aren’t stupid.
What they lack is sometimes knowledge, not intelligence.
Some are merely focused on making ends meet, but many can read the larger picture.
And as these people talk, the rumor spreads.
“If even among the commoners such talk is happening… the conclusion will come soon.”
It’s not a small matter—the sigibomb.
Isoter is also part of the kingdom alliance; they will act on a matter like this.
“The problem is….”
King Erengold II of Isoter.
If things went according to his schemes, the Impera house should now be on the road to ruin.
But because Krod stepped in, they did not fall, and Erengold II’s plot was stalled.
Erengold wanted bloody political conflict among the nobles.
If he could frame the sigibomb on the wrong person—
someone with a bad reputation who’d been causing trouble—
would he not pin it on someone like me, still viewed by people as a scoundrel?
Turning a victim into a culprit is not difficult.
If the king himself intervenes, it would be trivial.
Then Erengold’s scheme would accelerate.
The Impera house wouldn’t fall because of a blank check; it would be ruined by the sigibomb, and a bloody struggle among nobles would follow.
What should be done?
Sit and wait, praying for King Erengold II’s mercy?
“…tsk.”
There’s nothing more foolish than sitting and hoping for someone’s mercy.
Do something.
I had to catch the perpetrator who caused the sigibomb with my own hands.
Even if I brought in some unknown dark wizard and presented him, it would shift the blame away from me.
“Ha…”
I thought I might get some rest, and yet more work.
How to find a dark wizard who can make a sigibomb?
Not an easy opponent.
From the sigibomb’s effects you can roughly estimate the caster’s rank.
If it was only a simple explosion, dark magic rank 3.
If the toxin turned people into ghouls, rank 4.
Given what happened at the Blue Moon Tavern, his rank was probably around 4.
“Ugh.”
I involuntarily pictured rank-7 dark wizards from novels.
Scenes where the earth split and grotesque monsters crawled out from the cracks—pure hell.
“Still, it’s only rank one in the ranking system.”
They say there’s a first wall between ranks 3 and 4, but Geo Crisini was rank 4 in swordsmanship, so maybe it could be handled by mixing things up.
If direct confrontation failed, find another method.
Use poison, magical tools, or overwhelm him with numbers.
“Hmm.”
“Hohoho…”
A society gathering of nobles dressed elegantly.
The Venerre count’s mansion hosted a party filled with many nobles.
They were the prominent figures of Isoter kingdom.
Aside from the Marquis Adornei and Count Gatol, many powerful families were present.
Their splendid dresses showed nobility, but each harbored a black, slippery snake inside.
The biggest snake belonged, naturally, to the host of the party—the Venerre count.
“I hope the food suits your taste.”
Venerre smiled politely at Marquis Adornei, feigning humility.
Adornei, who defended Isoter’s front line, wasn’t wealthy due to the frontline nature of his lands but effectively held military power.
His bushy beard had turned grey, but his eyes were sharp like a young man’s.
“Would anything be lacking when the count himself has prepared it? The wine, grown on well-sunned land, has a deep flavor indeed.”
“It is thanks to the presence of the master of Adornei that I am honored.”
“Haha… I am grateful you think so.”
They were flattering each other outwardly, but inwardly their thoughts differed.
“Ha! You lost a dungeon and still think you’re rich?”
“Have you ever seen such things when you were fighting on the frontline?”
But as with noble politicking, true feelings must not be shown.
They can smile and then stab one another with a knife at any pretext.
This party was purposeful.
Word had spread that Impera house had lost the Valdig dungeon.
Because people now mocked him, he had to show something to counter that.
The Impera family was still strong.
They had some of the kingdom’s best mercenaries, the most money, and losing one dungeon was nothing.
Thus the count’s party overflowed with exotic delicacies and rare wines.
It was enough to flaunt his power.
Venerre wore a satisfied smile but seethed inside.
“Damn that scoundrel. How much money did he ruin because of that bastard….”
He fumed but tried to act indifferent.
He had already used his hidden card, Romulus, so he thought he could forget the Impera countship.
Ian should be dead. If luck favored him, ghouls might have invaded the Impera lands.
Venerre would then save the endangered land.
He’d fabricate evidence that Ian the scoundrel set off the sigibomb.
Then he’d hold Impera responsible and take all their lands through war.
Once concluded, it would be finished.
“Heh heh…!”
Just as he sneered and awaited good news, he noticed his steward, Arberto.
Something was off.
Arberto, who should be bringing the gratifying news of Ian’s death, was sweating profusely.
“St-Count…?”
“What is it, Arberto?”
The party was in full swing; Venerre spoke casually to his steward.
“I have something to tell you….”
“…Yes. May I have a moment?”
“Of course.”
Marquis Adornei smiled and moved aside.
Venerre inwardly felt a twinge of alarm.
Having served on the front, the old man knew when things were odd. He must have noticed Arberto’s strange demeanor.
He took the steward to a quiet room.
“…What could be so urgent you interrupted the party?”
“W-well…! The plan has hit a snag!”
“A snag?”
Venerre’s brows twitched.
“Don’t tell me Ian survived?”
“He… did.”
“This damn…!”
Incredibly lucky fool.
But how?
“Did the sigibomb misfire? That Romulus idiot…!”
“No! The sigibomb detonated properly… but for some reason Ian survived.”
“What? How is that possible?”
“The report says…it’s true.”
A vein bulged on Venerre’s neck. Arberto trembled.
He had used the dark wizard Romulus for the scheme.
The number of villagers who died by his hand alone was in the dozens. Add the people consumed as materials for the sigibomb and the number rose further.
“Grr…! Still… did the Impera lot suffer any damage?”
The sigibomb did go off.
Even though they failed to kill Ian, some damage surely occurred.
Arberto’s reply crushed Venerre’s hope.
“C-Count…”
“Hurry and tell me!”
“The people who were at the tavern are all dead.”
“Tavern?”
“Yes… roughly twenty people or so….”
