Chapter 29
Just as Heidi was pursing her lips at the filthy reality she could already picture all too clearly, Ber spoke up again.
“But even without books, there should still be a way to learn the cultivation method.”
“Oh? Do you have some clever idea?”
“We could ask farmers who used to grow mandrakes in the past.”
“That’s true! But then we’d first need to find out where mandrakes were even cultivated.”
“We can ask the coachman about that. The Mage Tower’s library is enormous—it holds most kinds of information.”
“Oh right, he was from the Mage Tower, wasn’t he?”
To be honest, he seemed more like an acrobat than a mage, so she often forgot.
“I forget sometimes myself.”
Ber nodded as if he agreed with her remark.
After breakfast, Heidi stood in front of a large magical device equipped with a keyboard and a screen.
The device was called a Magic Telegraph.
By typing a short message on the keyboard, it could transmit the message to someone far away, where it would be printed out on paper.
It was extremely convenient, but also very expensive, so it never became widespread.
Fortunately, Heidi had inherited a magic telegraph from her parents, and the coachman owned one as well.
She sent him a telegram.
**“Are you at the Mage Tower right now?
If you are, could you look through the archives and find information on regions that used to cultivate mandrakes?
I’m planning to visit in person and ask about mandrake cultivation techniques.
—Adelheid Primavera”**
Not long after, with a zzzing sound, paper slid out with a reply.
That fast?
Why did that man seem so free when he had two jobs?
**“You’ve already started mandrake research—how moving! Wishing you good luck!
I happen to be at the Mage Tower right now.
I just looked it up, and apparently mandrakes were cultivated mainly in the central and eastern regions of the Empire.
Mostly in mountainous areas!
—The Passionate Bloodstorm Phoenix”**
The Passionate Bloodstorm Phoenix.
No matter how many times she saw it, she couldn’t get used to that horribly over-the-top title.
For reference, the title printed at the bottom of a telegram could be freely set by its owner.
It seemed the coachman still hadn’t escaped his adolescent sensibilities. You know how, during that stormy phase of life, people obsess over titles that sound “cool.”
Anyway.
Heidi refocused on the contents of the message.
Central and eastern regions, mountainous areas… geographically, that includes Rium, doesn’t it?
Then another location fitting that description came to mind.
Muran Village, the village closest to Rium.
It was where Heidi usually bought groceries—and also where she planned to visit today.
If she could find clues about mandrake cultivation in Muran Village, things would become much easier.
With renewed hope, Heidi sent another telegram.
**“Is Muran Village included among those cultivation areas?
—Adelheid Primavera”**
**“Yes!
By the way, while searching for information on Muran Village, I found something new—apparently they were growing mandrakes there until about 50 years ago!
That’s actually lucky. In most other regions, cultivation was abandoned over 100 years ago.
At that point, any farmers who knew the techniques would all be in their graves by now. Literacy rates were low back then too, so there’d be no way to pass the knowledge down in written form.
But 50 years ago means there’s still hope!
Among the elders of Muran Village, there might still be someone who knows how to grow mandrakes!
—The Passionate Bloodstorm Phoenix”**
Heidi’s hand trembled with anger as she read the note.
One hundred years. They really milked it for all it was worth.
Bastards.
They monopolized something valuable among themselves for decades and fattened their wallets with it.
They crushed small-scale farmers through overwhelming disparities in ability, formed a monopoly, and—
They even controlled information, cutting off future generations from learning how to cultivate mandrakes, breaking the ladder entirely.
And on top of that, they created an unintended victim like the coachman through their connections-based profiteering!
Her rebellious nature boiled at such cowardly tactics. She reaffirmed her goal.
She would go to Muran Village. She would ask the elders. She would find the mandrake cultivation method—no matter what—and succeed in rapid mandrake growth.
Honestly, you’ve been hogging it long enough, haven’t you?
That money you piled up through unfair means—now it’s my turn to take a share.
It was time to inject some tension into the complacent Grand Temple.
Pink plum blossoms hanging from every branch, gentle mountain breezes, and yellow bricks gleaming in the sunlight.
The streets of Muran Village were filled with the feeling of spring.
Heidi, Ber, and Theo entered the village’s central shopping district.
“Mr. Ber, shall we go to the hair salon first?” Heidi asked suddenly.
“To get your hair cut?” Ber asked.
“No. Yours.”
Ber’s dark-blue hair, grown down past his eyebrows, gave him a somewhat stifling appearance. It didn’t help that it was so thick.
At least he won’t have to worry about hair loss later, she thought idly, then continued.
“I’ve been thinking since the first time I saw you that it was time for a trim. Unless you were intentionally growing it out?”
“…Now that you mention it, it does seem like it’s time to cut it.”
Ber muttered while touching the overgrown hair hanging past his eyebrows.
It sounded like he’d only just realized how long it was after she pointed it out.
“What, you only noticed now?”
“Yes. I don’t really pay much attention.”
It seemed the mercenary was indifferent not just to others, but to himself as well. That wouldn’t do—she’d have to look after him herself.
“Perfect, then. Let’s go! There’s a salon I visit often right here.”
The group headed to a hair salon along the shopping street. As they entered, a lively-looking middle-aged woman stood up from her seat.
“Oh my! Look who it is—Heidi! You’ve gotten even prettier! And Theo, you’ve gotten even cuter!”
Since Heidi visited occasionally, the hairstylist greeted her and Theo warmly.
“Kyahhh!”
Theo puffed out his cheeks in displeasure—he hated being called cute. With his tail puffed up in indignation too, he looked just like a crimson cotton candy.
Heidi patted the back of Theo’s head to calm him and greeted the owner cheerfully.
“Hello, unni! Have you been well?”
“Oh, you know me—same as always. But…”
The hairstylist’s curious gaze shifted to Ber.
“And who’s that bear-like young man beside you? Don’t tell me he’s your boyfriend?”
Heidi rubbed her forehead lightly.
She’d caught the playful mischief glinting in the woman’s curious eyes.
At the question, Ber’s broad back twitched.
Given his stiff and inflexible personality, he’d probably be flustered by even a joke like this.
“No. He’s just an employee. His name is Mr. Ber.”
Heidi stepped in decisively and drew a clear line.
“Oh… what a shame,” the hairstylist said, smacking her lips regretfully.
“Anyway, we’re here to get Mr. Ber’s hair cut today.”
“Good thinking. It looked stuffy at a glance anyway. I’ll make it look nice. Sit here.”
She pointed to the chair in front, and Ber sat down.
“But aren’t you going to take off that scarf? Hair might get caught in it.”
As she draped the cutting cape around Ber’s neck, she asked casually.
Is this my chance to finally see Mr. Ber’s face?
His expressionless eyes always made it hard to read his thoughts, which had left her faintly frustrated before.
She had suspected there might be scars on his lower face, so she’d never directly asked him to remove the scarf, worried it might be rude.
But in a salon, surely—
Ber replied politely but firmly.
“I received a scar on my jaw during the war. It’s quite unsightly, and I’d rather not show it to others.”
Oh… so there really was a scar behind that scarf.
Not wanting to make him uncomfortable, Heidi resolved to stop showing any curiosity about it.
“My goodness… that’s unfortunate. I understand. I’ll be careful not to touch the scarf while cutting.”
“Thank you for your consideration.”
The story hidden behind Ber’s scarf sobered even the lively hairstylist.
Snip, snip.
Only the sound of scissors filled the salon.
Heidi listened to the chatter of the other customers seated nearby.
“I heard James’s eldest daughter got into the Imperial Academy this time. I’m so jealous I could die.”
“I wish my son could get into the Imperial Academy too. That brat won’t study at all.”
“I heard Rick’s cow gave birth recently…”
In a small village, a hair salon served as a kind of gossip hub. Customers who gathered there were well-versed in all the village news.
And that was precisely why Heidi had come to the salon first, putting everything else aside as soon as she arrived.
If anyone knows about people who used to grow mandrakes… it’ll be these folks.
