Chapter 17
“Then why did you tell the officers not to be informed?”
“Ah, because they’ll just be sick for a bit and recover. None of them have enough divine power to be dangerous if overused.”
“Still, wouldn’t it be better if they weren’t sick at all, for the sake of our combat strength?”
“But sick soldiers make for a convenient excuse.”
“Excuse me?”
“Otherwise, what would be your justification for staying longer than scheduled?”
Ah. Well, Mia had insisted they remain in Glen longer. Etienne had been willing to accommodate her wishes. He simply hadn’t thought he needed to fabricate an excuse, considering he could give orders as he pleased. Still, having a reason helped.
Even though he knew he probably shouldn’t ask, Etienne couldn’t suppress his curiosity.
“But… how did you know the alcohol was poisoned?”
“I tested it.”
The immediate response was absurd. Tested it? On whom, exactly? He instinctively knew he shouldn’t dig further, or it might be too late to turn back.
“Have all your questions been answered?”
“Yes, more or less…”
“Then let’s go. Change into something less conspicuous.”
Etienne nodded silently. At this late hour, there weren’t many places still open. And considering they had just been discussing alcohol, it was obvious what they were going to investigate.
“We’ll run into Lennard on the way.”
“Yes.”
“And from now on, in situations like this, call me Ellie.”
“Ellie?”
“My middle name. Originally it’s Elise… Ellie is the nickname. Sounds more like a lover, doesn’t it?”
“Ah, understood. Then please call me Max.”
Quick conversations were easier. Etienne had always been perceptive, even in his past life. Mia nodded without hesitation, completely ignoring the slight smile that tugged at his voice.
✵✵✵
Clink. A faint bell rang as the tavern door opened. No one paid much attention to the three figures dressed in shabby clothes entering the pub.
The hooded woman in front claimed a spot in the corner. When the tavern owner rushed over to greet them, she boldly ordered “your strongest drink.” Yet she didn’t touch a drop, simply stared out the window.
The two men seated across from her looked like they didn’t even know why they were here. One of them, in fact, looked downright irritated at having to share a table.
The tavern was noisy. Aside from local gossip, the stories shared by commoners in pubs were nearly the same everywhere: how the job market was, where to go for quick riches… hardly relatable topics for the two sons of powerful dukes who lacked nothing in terms of wealth.
They sat still, listening to the hum of voices like background noise. No idle chatter. Just vacant stares into the air.
Though dressed similarly to the rest of the crowd, something about them felt… off. Incongruous.
✵✵✵
“I told you, I’ll pay! Why won’t you take the money!?”
“I said I won’t take that! Why can’t you get it through your thick skull!?”
Crash. The sound of something shattering, followed by a man’s angry shouting, drew everyone’s attention. Mia quietly looked toward the commotion. Judging by his uniform, the troublemaker seemed to be a soldier from Etalon.
“I told them not to draw attention… Tsk.”
A disgruntled voice muttered beside her. Mia turned to it.
“Max.”
“Yes?”
“Do you have any silver coins?”
“…Why would I have those?”
“If not, we might end up just like him.”
Mia whispered. The slightly drunk corps commander finally seemed to catch the implication in her question.
“You mean… they use silver coins here?”
“You should’ve known, no?”
“Ah.”
He began to make excuses—that he thought gold and silver coins were used interchangeably along the border. Technically not wrong. Just not in Glen.
Someone like Etienne making such a basic mistake was rare. But with the banquet earlier, a heavy workload, and being dragged out suddenly by Mia, he hadn’t had time to check what was in his wallet.
“You don’t have silver coins?”
“How would I even carry those?”
Even in her past life, she hadn’t had access to military funds. A strategy officer who was useless in actual combat couldn’t be trusted with a budget—that’s what they had said. Transparent nonsense, but when it came from the emperor, she had no choice but to obey.
Would things be any different now? She was Etienne’s “lover,” so her treatment might be a little better than before. Still, she had yet to devise a strategy that produced results—her standing couldn’t be much improved.
But even putting aside their lack of preparation, something was definitely off. Places like Glen, recently annexed into Veridian territory, often used Etalon currency interchangeably.
Unless the tavern was run by a Veridian local, their hostility over currency seemed excessive.
Mia sipped her drink as she watched the chaos unfold. Behind her emotionless eyes, complex calculations were being made.
Thunk.
Her move came suddenly. Mia kicked the leg of Lennard’s chair under the table. It wasn’t a strong kick, but it made him noticeably stumble. The movement wasn’t of his own will—hence, it looked awkward and unnatural.
“Wh-what the hell! Damn it!”
Drunk and flustered, Lennard yelled. As his voice rose, attention shifted away from the previous commotion and toward him.
Lennard staggered into the crowd and, after flailing a bit, landed a punch on the nearest man and collapsed.
In the drunken mess, only two people saw the faint red glow around Lennard’s ankle.
“You’ve got a cruel hobby, Your Grace.”
Etienne whispered. His tone wasn’t accusatory, so Mia responded lightly.
“More of a punishment for unruly soldiers than a hobby, I’d say.”
“I don’t recall seeing that kind of punishment in military law.”
“Isn’t this within a corps commander’s discretionary authority?”
“Hmm… You’re right about that.”
He replied with a smile in his voice, clearly pretending to be troubled.
Mia smiled back. But her expression lacked any hint of playfulness—it only made her seem all the more ominous.
It wasn’t a petty act of revenge. If anything, this looked like the beginning of something much bigger. And with her next words, Etienne realized his assumption was right.
“You’re very good at drawing attention.”
“…What?”
Etienne was caught off guard by the sudden compliment. Mia continued.
“There’ll be a loud noise coming from the storage room soon.”
“…?”
“Even though no one has gone over there.”
Etienne sighed inwardly. It wasn’t a difficult task, but now that he was on the receiving end, he felt like grumbling.
“Feels like you only give me the hard jobs.”
“We all play the roles we’re best at.”
Leaving behind what could be taken as an impolite remark toward her superior, Mia disappeared behind the counter into the storage room.
Her tone, as if this were some grand secret between them, left Etienne with no real way to say no.
✵✵✵
It had sounded like something that shouldn’t have made noise. The storage room was darker than usual. The tavern owner came over, anxious, and his gaze drifted aimlessly through the air. Was he trying to identify what felt off—or did he just now notice the lamps were all out?
Either way, it didn’t matter. Before he could grasp the situation, a cold voice spoke from behind him.
“Where is Shatten?”
Shatten, or “the liquor with no origin,” was only distributed through this tavern within the territory.
In truth, calling it “liquor” was questionable. No one knew how it was made—so how could it be considered normal alcohol? Neither those who distributed it nor those who sought it regarded Shatten as just “alcohol.”
Mia suspected it wasn’t alcohol with something added to it—it was poison in itself. The kind of poison disguised as a drink, used by the powerful as a convenient excuse. She had nearly become a victim of it—she had all the justification she needed.
Barging into the storage room without an appointment and asking for an unknown item not even commoners had heard of—there was no way this was a friendly visit.
The owner asked, his face pale.
“Who… are you?”
“You don’t recognize me?”
Mia replied brazenly. The owner looked about to get angry when she quietly recited:
“When the glory of the goddess shines brightly…“
