Episode 48
<Originally, we are born here but go to live in the Spirit Realm.>
<That, too, is a promise—to give us a world where we will not be tormented by humans.>
The spirits now spoke with a calmer tone.
<But before thirty seasons had passed, suddenly we were no longer able to return to the Spirit Realm, so we remained in this world.>
<Still, it didn’t matter, because by then, no humans remembered us anymore.>
For spirits who lived for eternity, thirty years was a short time.
<Yes. But we had forgotten something.>
“What…?”
<That humans record things.>
The spirits’ voices grew somber.
<Instead of sending things off on the wind to return to the soil, they record them. That way, they can talk about events from hundreds of seasons ago as if they experienced them themselves. We really hate that about humans.>
<We don’t know how they capture us and turn us into… those things. We don’t even want to know. But it seems they’ve been trying to do it for a very long time.>
<A very, very long time.>
<And then another human inherits the task and finally succeeds.>
<Doing something dreadful.>
In other words, this was the result of a ritual researched since ancient times.
Linéa wondered whether Kadil could really have accomplished such a thing alone. And more than that, the content of the spirits’ words weighed heavily on her mind.
“Why is there nothing I can do?”
<Linéa. Half of you is the same as us.>
<Humans can’t smell that thing.>
<If you’re not careful, you too might suffer something terrible.>
<It’s dangerous, Linéa.>
The spirits tried to dissuade her with these words, but all they did was strengthen her resolve.
“What you mean is not that I can’t do anything, but that it’s dangerous. In that case, I won’t just stand by.”
<Linéa, this time we can’t help you.>
<We want to help you, but… it’s too frightening.>
These were the very spirits who had pulled Linéa back from death itself, and yet, regarding this matter, they spoke pitifully. Linéa smiled, trying to reassure them.
“It’s fine, you don’t have to help me. Stay somewhere safe. You said you can’t go to the Spirit Realm… then is there anywhere safer?”
<…We don’t know. For now, being near you is the safest…>
“I’ll soon be in danger too. Leave my side.”
When Linéa spoke firmly, the spirits stirred in agitation.
<Why are you doing this, Linéa?>
“What do you mean?”
<This really has nothing to do with you.>
“How could it have nothing to do with me?”
Linéa asked back, truly baffled.
“As a human and as a spirit, this is important to me. As a human, if this Buffleum spreads, it will damage my business. Then I’ll fall into that man’s grasp. As a spirit, they’re your friends. Your friends’ lives are in danger, and you’re telling me to do nothing? You saved me, didn’t you?”
<……>
“As your friend, I’m going to help my benefactors.”
The spirits were silent for a while, then whispered softly:
<…Linéa. Do you remember what we told you when you were given life again?>
“Yes.”
She remembered every word.
<But in this matter… if… you find yourself in such danger, so much pain, and without any way out… then… it’s okay.>
<Because that would still be better than being captured by those humans.>
It was permission to take her own life if she was captured and had no way to escape.
The awareness that she was taking on something so dangerous that such advice would be given sent a chill down her spine. But she had no intention of overturning her decision.
A few days later, when she went to meet Professor Lionel Weeden, a botanist, at his home, he greeted her looking extremely fatigued.
“…Forgive me, but you don’t look well. If you’re tired today, we can reschedule.”
“No, it’s fine. I’ve had a lot to investigate lately. I imagine you’ve come to speak about that as well, Countess?”
Lionel removed his thick glasses, wiped them clean, and put them back on. His drooping eyelids were heavy with exhaustion.
“Then let’s get straight to the point. You’ve come about the addictive plants being discovered throughout the Empire, correct?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Indeed. It’s not exactly strange.”
Lionel began with this preface.
“Let’s take Papabellaum as an example. It’s a plant that grows anywhere shaded in a temperate climate. Ordinarily, it should be common in the central and southern Empire. But until now, it hasn’t grown at all. Meanwhile, plants like castor beans, which also favor temperate climates, grow just fine in the south.”
Then Lionel rose from the sofa, went to his desk, retrieved a book, and opened it to a bookmarked page.
“This is a record of the culture and customs of that era. You can see here that before the Empire’s founding, Papabellaum sap was commonly used as a painkiller and in ritual ceremonies.”
Linéa knew that already—and she also knew about the pact with the spirits that Lionel didn’t. But she kept silent and listened.
“In short, the fact that addictive plants stopped growing is relatively recent—since the Empire’s founding.”
“Then you haven’t determined why they’ve suddenly begun to grow again?”
“Not yet. But I want to make clear—it was always something that could have happened. All we can do now is find the predicted habitats, uproot them, and till the land before they spread to the public.”
Linéa nodded and took a small box from her handbag.
She had placed the Buffleum vial inside a neat box. To her, it felt like handling the bodies of friends who had been brutally desecrated and killed.
“Would you take a look at this?”
“What is…?”
Lionel opened the box, looked puzzled at the Buffleum vial, and was about to open it when Linéa stopped him urgently.
“Wait—please open it only after I leave this room.”
“Very well.”
“What I’d like to request, Professor, is an analysis of this drug’s ingredients. I… I have my own lab and some meager knowledge of herbs, but due to circumstances, I can’t analyze it myself.”
Even wearing a thick mask, opening the vial’s lid would overwhelm her to the point of losing her senses. It was likely not a scent affecting her nose, but rather a stimulus that touched the sense she used to commune with spirits—or perhaps her very soul.
“Wouldn’t it be better to take it to a pharmacist?”
“…It’s shameful to say, but this drug has recently begun to spread through the Empire.”
“…This? Surely not—”
“It’s addictive.”
Deep furrows formed in Lionel’s brow.
“I don’t know how many pharmacists might be involved in making this drug, so I can’t trust anyone. I only ask that you tell me whether it’s connected to the current incidents and what its main component is.”
“…I understand. Give me two hours. I’ll run a basic composition analysis in my lab.”
Lionel took the vial and left the parlor. Linéa, guided by a maid, had a simple meal in the dining room and then took a walk. She returned to the parlor just before the two hours were up.
But Lionel didn’t return until an hour later, holding sheets of paper on which he had written down the components, his expression uncertain.
“Professor, what did you find?”
“…This is strange.”
He sat across from her, shaking his head repeatedly.
“No matter how many times I re-tested it, the result was strange. Are you certain this is the drug spreading in the Empire?”
“I’m certain.”
“No addictive substances were detected at all.”
Linéa was momentarily taken aback.
She had already considered that a drug made from artificially extracted spirits might differ from typical addictive substances. But for there to be no addictive agents whatsoever was odd.
“I ran every test I know to detect addictive materials, but not one was found. In fact, its composition is similar to that of weeds. The formulation is crude—like it was made by someone with no knowledge of pharmacology. And yet…”
Lionel frowned, holding up the Buffleum vial.
“I don’t even know what plant material could produce this color. Plants are green, yes, but this is an artificial green I’ve never seen before. They could have used a dye to hide the real color, but why bother? It wouldn’t be cost-effective.”
“I see.”
“So, I tried putting a few drops on a plant.”
His expression grew darker and more unreadable.
“A healthy plant wilted instantly. Then I gave a tiny dose to a lab mouse. It lost consciousness immediately… then woke up in an agitated state and soon went berserk. When I dosed it again, the agitation persisted.”
“…What?”
“It’s not a toxic substance—that I can confirm. If the effects on mice are the same for humans, then it is addictive. But I cannot identify the ingredients.”
He looked at her seriously.
“May I keep this vial for further testing?”
“That’s fine, but make sure no one consumes it. That includes you, Professor.”
“Yes, of course.”
Lionel carefully put the Buffleum vial away.
On the way back from Professor Lionel’s house, Linéa spoke in the carriage.
“…Perhaps.”
But the next moment, she was startled by her own thought and shut her mouth.
What had crossed her mind was to ask the Imperial Family for help. The successor to the promise not to harm spirits was Euric, and at the very least, the Imperial Family should have the true history—the history with the spirits—rather than the common version told throughout the Empire.
But then, the sudden thought hit her—what if that was far too naïve?
Euric might have known everything from the start. In other words, he might have known and used it.
Kadil might not have acted alone.
The idea filled Linéa with fierce rejection. Euric wasn’t that kind of man. He wouldn’t exploit beings just because they weren’t human, nor would intoxicating the people of his own Empire benefit its ruler.
…Unless the drug was meant for a foreign target?
A ruler could, at any time, become utterly ruthless. Especially toward spirits that couldn’t even be seen.
No.
It was nonsense. Euric would never.
Still, with thoughts like this, it was difficult to ask him for help.
If, by some chance, her suspicion was correct, then she would have to take the spirits’ final offer right then and there—
The offer of a second death, by her own hand.
