Winter Festival Preparations and Donations

“The year is over already,” said the woman as she looked out on the street from her carriage window and took in the hustle and bustle. The end of the year was as busy in this world as it had been in her last—an observation she could make as someone who had reincarnated from one world into the other.

Her name here was Dahlia Rossetti. She had vibrant red hair and green eyes, utterly unlike the black hair and eyes she’d had in her previous life.

In that world, she had been an employee of a company that made household appliances. Now, as if she’d been given a second chance to live out her dreams of being involved in the manufacturing process itself, she had become a magical toolmaker, an artisan who crafted tools using her own enchantments, monster materials, and magic crystals, including fire, water, and air crystals.

Among Dahlia’s specialties were some tools similar to the home appliances of her previous world, such as magical lanterns, hot water dispensers, and refrigerators powered by magic crystals. She also invented tools that made everyday life easier, like toe socks and waterproof cloth enchanted with powdered slime.

“Yeah. This year felt like it just flew by,” said the young man in the knight’s uniform sitting across from her.

His name was Volfred Scalfarotto, and he was a knight in the Kingdom of Ordine’s Royal Order of Beast Hunters. He was tall and lean, with silky black hair, a pleasingly formed face, a well-defined, straight nose, and elegantly thin lips. Long eyelashes framed his two dazzling golden eyes. His dashing good looks had earned him the reputation of the handsomest man in the kingdom.

However, Volfred—or Volf, as Dahlia had come to call him—was never one to boast of his appearance. After all, it had caused him no end of trouble in his personal relationships, inspiring women to pursue him aggressively and men to misunderstand and envy him. It was entirely understandable that Volf avoided romantic relationships.

As for Dahlia herself, although she wasn’t purposefully avoiding it, romance was something that eluded her. She’d had no relationships to speak of in her previous life, and in this one, the fiancé her father had chosen for her had broken off their engagement. Thus, Dahlia had low expectations of ever finding love.

“Are you planning to make any social calls over the holiday, Dahlia?”

“No, not really. Will you be in the castle the entire time?”

“Yeah, I’ll be on call. I’ll get a day off for New Year’s dinner, but after that I’ll have to go right back to the castle. A lot of knights are taking time off for the holiday.”

Many knights went on vacation during the New Year holiday, returning to their hometowns outside of the capital and spending time with their families. However, there was no telling when monsters would appear, so the knights whose families lived within the capital or who were not returning home for the holidays had to stay on duty.

Ever since joining the order, Volf had been one of the crew of knights who remained in the castle throughout the holiday season. Dahlia would be taking a little time off from work, but she and Volf would be unable to meet again until after the holidays—though it was only for a few days, of course, and it wasn’t as if he could shirk his job.

Their carriage, bound for the Merchants’ Guild, moved more quietly than she was accustomed to; it belonged not to the Rossetti Trading Company but to the Scalfarotto family. Normally, she would have taken a company carriage to the guild, but today Volf was accompanying her on an errand for his family.

“Will you also be training?” Dahlia asked.

“Yeah, we’ll probably have to do the same amount as usual, but I’ll be sparring against some older knights I don’t usually train with, so it’ll be a good learning experience.”

“I’m sure it will be.”

Volf explained that spending the holiday at the castle provided him with the opportunity to train, dine, and converse with the knights whom he seldom interacted with otherwise. It sounds like he won’t be lonely, at least.

“Do you have any holiday plans, Dahlia?”

Dahlia’s response came a beat late. “Lucia will be coming over.”

She had been thinking about all the time she would be spending alone, but then she’d remembered that she and her friend had planned a day together. Normally, their mutual friend Irma would have joined them, but this year, she would be in the temple, preparing to give birth to twins.

Dahlia didn’t want to admit that she wasn’t seeing anyone else, so she hastened to explain away her lack of plans. “Other than that, I think I’ll just take it easy. I’ve been so busy lately.”

“You know, I don’t think I’ve seen you take a break lately—or for a single moment since we met, in fact...” said Volf.

On reflection, she realized he was probably correct.

In the messy aftermath of her broken engagement, she had run into Volf in the forest. A few chance encounters later, they had become fast friends. Since then, she’d developed the toe socks, zephyricloth, camp stove, and heated low table. She had become a chairwoman and an advisor to the Order of Beast Hunters, and just the other day, she’d danced at her debut, where she’d been presented to noble society in advance of her promotion to baroness.

Dahlia couldn’t quite remember the last time she’d had a calm, relaxing holiday. But she also had a strong feeling that the main reason for that was her friendship with Volf.

“Must be your imagination,” Dahlia said in a deliberate monotone.

Volf smirked. “Maybe, but you really have been busy. I’d be happy to see you take some time for yourself.”

This time, Dahlia answered earnestly. “I will. I think a little alone time to unwind will do me good.”

Volf cleared his throat. Assuming he had something to say, Dahlia looked at him expectantly only to see hesitation in his golden eyes.

“Um, I’d hate to intrude on your alone time, but once my duty at the castle is over, do you mind if I swing by the tower? Only when you don’t have any other plans, that is.”

He didn’t even have to ask. “Of course. Feel free,” Dahlia replied with a smile. She didn’t need to be alone in order to relax—she would be happy for his company.

The Merchants’ Guild had only just opened but was already teeming with people.

Volf’s destination was on the first floor, while Dahlia’s was on the second. They said a quick farewell and parted ways. At the foot of the stairs, Dahlia turned back and saw him looking her way. He mouthed what looked like See you later, and she smiled and nodded at him.

When she turned back toward the stairs, she made eye contact with a brightly smiling guard. During this time of year, the Merchants’ Guild had guards posted not just at the entrance but also in front of the stairs to the second floor. Dahlia told herself this guard just happened to be especially friendly. She bowed to him and started up the stairs.

The chaos of the first floor extended to the second, where her company had its office. People hastened down the hallway with paperwork in hand, guild staff went back and forth between the counter and the file room, and meetings were audible in the conference rooms, where no one was going to the trouble of using anti-eavesdropping devices. It was the end of the year, indeed.

Dahlia entered the office, where Ivano was sitting at a table across from a member of the guild staff. Ivano was organizing several documents into piles as the two spoke.

“This is ready to go, this needs the delivery date confirmed and countersigned by the responsible party, and this amount here doesn’t look right, so please verify it with the other party.”

“Thank you, Mr. Ivano! Your help is very much appreciated.”

The young staffer bowed his head deeply to Ivano, then bowed to Dahlia on his way out the door.

“Good morning, Chairwoman,” said Ivano.

“Good morning, Ivano. Were you helping with guild business?”

“Yes. I apologize for doing so during working hours. I have passed on the baton, but this is that fellow’s first time doing year-end paperwork, so he wanted a second opinion on a few matters.”

Ivano had been an employee of the Merchants’ Guild until last summer, when he’d joined the Rossetti Trading Company. He had been a great boon to Dahlia, but there was no denying that the Merchants’ Guild was struggling to fill the hole left by his departure. As she reflected guiltily on the inconvenience she’d caused them, there was a knock at the door.

“Morning!” Mena called out cheerfully as he entered. “Here’s this morning’s mail.”

In his hands, he held two bundles of letters. The first appeared to be composed of large one-sided postcards.

“They always send so many at the end of the year...” said Dahlia.

“Yes, trying to sell what they can before the year’s out,” said Ivano.

“But what’s the point in selling magical lanterns to the Rossetti Trading Company? The chairwoman can make them,” Mena pointed out.

“They most likely send them everywhere without checking the destinations,” Ivano explained. “It’s just what they do at this time of year.”

The one-sided letters were promotional flyers, mailed indiscriminately in the hope that managers with surplus funds in their budgets would want to purchase something: gifts for family, friends, and colleagues, or something to balance their accounts at the close of the year. It was very nearly equivalent to the big year-end sales of Dahlia’s previous world.

Mena examined the flyer on top of the stack, then exclaimed, “Whoa, these magical lanterns are pricey!”

“They’re for nobles,” Ivano informed him. “Look there—solid gold, it says.”

When Dahlia checked the price that had stunned Mena, she herself nearly did a double take. The lantern depicted on the flyer was not only solid gold but studded with jewels. It was a beautiful, whimsical creation, but not the sort of thing she could ever imagine hanging up in her room; she wouldn’t want to accidentally bump into it and break it. Plus, she would be afraid of someone breaking in and stealing it.

“I’m sure the consumption tax is high too,” Mena said.

“Yes, twenty-five percent. They’re luxury goods,” Ivano confirmed without a moment’s hesitation. He must have had the consumption tax for most items memorized.

In the Kingdom of Ordine, the consumption tax varied widely between different products. Items essential to daily life, such as foodstuffs and magic crystals, were taxed at a lower rate, while luxury goods—jewels and precious metals in particular—were taxed heavily.

The tax on ordinary furniture, clothing, and shoes was moderate enough, but the rate increased dramatically on items that cost more than one gold coin. Superficially, it was a reasonable system, but even magical tools for everyday living could have high taxes attached; they were considered conveniences that people could ultimately live without.

Dahlia couldn’t quite accept that argument. She believed that magical tools such as hot water dispensers, coolers, and heaters should be considered essentials.

“At any rate, we can discuss taxes later,” Ivano continued. “What with the winter festival approaching, I’d like to get the donation paperwork straightened out.”

“Yes, let’s do that now.”

Dahlia sat down across from Ivano; Mena sat next to him.

The mention of donations brought serious expressions to everyone’s faces. Those with the means shall lend their hands to those in need was one of the lodestone principles of Ordine. Thus, at the end of each year, people throughout the kingdom made large charitable donations. There were divergent views toward this custom, with some seeing it as showcasing the benevolence, and others the vices, of Ordine.

In the days leading up to the winter festival, individuals, shops, and companies donated money and goods to various recipients at their own discretion. Unlike taxes, donations could be directed to specific sectors and divisions of the government.

The largest single recipient of donations was the temple. It was because of this support that the clergy were able to treat serious injuries at affordable prices and even permitted patients to pay in installments.

The Couriers’ Guild and its associates made large donations annually to the kingdom’s civil engineering department in the hopes that they would enlarge and repair public roads. The Merchants’ Guild donated to civil works as well as the department that oversaw river and maritime routes. Among private citizens, some chose to donate to the city guards for improved public safety, while others donated to state-run institutions to help those in need.

Each organization publicized the amount and sources of the donations it received, although donors could remain anonymous if they so chose.

In a sense, these donations were the most important part of the year-end holidays. Wealthy merchants and high-ranking nobles were pressured to give generously lest they be seen as miserly.

But it wasn’t merely that failing to donate put one in the line of fire for accusations of parsimony. In the case of nobles, their honor could be called into question, which could lead their peers to treat them coldly or even hamper their marriage prospects.

Companies and wealthy commoners were not excluded from such considerations. The amount they donated could be used to gauge their prosperity, which significantly impacted their business dealings. For these reasons, citizens of prior generations had even gone into debt to make donations.

To change or falsify public records of donations was considered fraud against the kingdom and was severely punished.

The Rossetti Trading Company had seen considerable profits despite being established less than a year ago, and Dahlia was to become a baroness next year. Thus, she knew it would be wise to donate generously at this time.

“Chairwoman, up until last year, you donated to civil works through Orlando & Co., correct?”

“Yes, in order to support maintenance of the highways. And my father and I donated to the temple.”

“My family did the same. Is there anywhere in particular you’d like to donate this year?”

“The temple and... Would it be all right to donate to the Order of Beast Hunters?”

Dahlia wanted the knights to have better equipment, weapons, and food, but she was worried about the propriety of donating to the squad as their advisor.

“That is quite all right. One thing to keep in mind is that half of the total donated to the Order of Beast Hunters is parceled out among the retired veterans.”

“Really? Don’t they receive pensions from the kingdom?” Mena asked curiously.

“It’s different from the pensions. Donations are given to the families of deceased knights, to knights who retired due to untreatable injuries, and to knights who are bedridden with illness. In the old days, people would join the Order of Beast Hunters because they knew their families would be well provided for in the event that anything should happen to them.”

Dahlia felt a pang in her chest. She’d thought she was well aware of the dangers and indignities the Beast Hunters faced, but when she heard Ivano’s description of the retired knights, she realized she was still underestimating their plight.

“We are still a young company, but what do you think about donating fifteen percent of our net profits?” suggested Ivano.

“That sounds good. Please donate half of that to the temple and half to the Order of Beast Hunters.”

“Very well. I will draw up the paperwork.”

“Thank you. And could you please donate twenty percent of my personal account to the Order of Beast Hunters, anonymously?”

Ivano’s hand froze on the lid of the inkwell. He studied her with his dark blue eyes. “Chairwoman, I believe the company’s donation alone should be more than sufficient.”

“Yes, that amount is fine for the company. It’s just that I also want to donate personally—that is, from the Rossetti family.”

Currently, Dahlia was blessed with more income than she needed. She was also physically healthy, and it didn’t seem likely that she would run out of toolmaking work anytime soon. In her present circumstances, she felt she had a duty to help others.

Her father, Carlo, had always donated ten percent of his savings to the temple. Dahlia’s business had done well this year, and she felt she had grown a great deal as a magical toolmaker as well, though she knew she still had much to learn. As a show of gratitude for her success, she wanted to give a little extra.

Ivano hesitated before responding. “Very well. However, even if you donate anonymously, a donation of that size will likely come to the attention of higher-ups in the Order, especially with Lord Gildo in the treasury. I can request that only the squad be informed of the source of the donation and that they keep it confidential.”

“Thank you...”

Dahlia had made Ivano’s already busy end of the year even busier. But her hope was that her donations could not only make the Beast Hunters’ expeditions safer and more comfortable but also provide extra money to the retired knights. As she was mulling it over, Mena timidly raised his right hand.

“Um, I’m sorry for interrupting, but I have something to ask...”

“Yes, Mena?” said Ivano.

“Could I request that we give a little to a state-run institution? The orphanage I grew up in needs its roof repaired.”

“Certainly. How much would those repairs cost?”

“Twenty gold coins, I’m told. They’ve been mending it themselves, but there’s only so much they can do. The repairs have been approved as an item of next year’s budget, but right now, they have buckets on the tables in the dining hall to catch the rain, so I’d like to help them repair that, at least.”

There was often bad weather around the winter festival. Dahlia didn’t want the orphanage to celebrate the New Year by feasting at a table with buckets on it.

“In that case, I can—” Dahlia began, but Ivano interrupted her.

“It’s akin to Mena’s family home, so let’s make a donation from the company, Chairwoman. Oh, and do you mind if I send a carpenter friend of mine directly, Mena? It’s not that I suspect they’ll misuse the funds. Rather, I believe my friend will be able to act quickly once I explain the situation. There are few carpenters who will be available to take on this kind of work during the holidays.”

Dahlia was always impressed by the breadth of his personal connections.

“I know this is a lot to ask. If it’s really too much, please take it out of my paycheck.”

“Mena, you say too much.”

“What?”

“In moments like this, all you need to say is ‘Thank you very much’ and throw in a smile as a bonus,” Ivano said.

Ivano earned a smile from Dahlia first, but then Mena’s light blue eyes widened, and he grinned like a boy. “Thank you very much, Chairwoman, Vice-Chairman!”

“A moment, please.”

Ivano swiftly drafted a couple letters. Mena set the ink with a dryer, and Dahlia applied the company seal.

Ivano handed the two finished letters to Mena. “Before you accompany Marcella, deliver this letter to this address here. It will likely depend on the extent of the damage to the roof, but my friend should be able to patch up any spots in need of urgent repair. And this is a letter of introduction to the director of the institution.”

“Thank you!”

Marcella had taken the day off work. Irma was heading to the temple this afternoon, so he was helping her prepare and would be accompanying her there. Mena would be the one conveying them by carriage.

Irma was in excellent health, but she would be spending the remainder of her pregnancy at the temple.

When Dahlia brought her food the other day, Irma had seemed less than thrilled about her impending move to the temple, saying that she felt well enough to give birth at home under a midwife’s care.

But childbirth was a serious matter, especially when one was having twins. There was no reason to invite more risk, so Dahlia had tried to press upon her friend the importance of going to the temple. In the end, Irma had been so exasperated at being fussed over that she’d retorted, “All right, I get it, big sis.”

In any case, safety was of the utmost importance, and Dahlia was praying for the health of both mother and children.

“I will send another letter to the director tomorrow along with the official paperwork. Please be sure to express our apologies in advance that the letter may arrive after the repairs are completed.”

Mena looked ready to take off, but Ivano made him write his instructions down in a brown leather notepad. When he’d completed his notes, Mena all but bolted out of the room.

“I have a feeling Mena will be taking the stairs two at a time.”

“I think you might be right.”

Dahlia laughed, but something was nagging at her.

“Um, Ivano... Is that institution struggling so much that they can’t afford to have their roof repaired?”

“It’s a fairly old building. The roof was probably damaged during the strong winds we had this autumn. I’m sure the reason they couldn’t fix it right away was that it was unexpected, so they didn’t have enough in the budget to take care of it. They should be able to fix it with the new budget they receive next month, but I would hate for them to eat with buckets on the table during the winter festival.”

As he answered, Ivano took out stationery embossed with the company seal.

“Chairwoman, I will write up the rough draft, but could I please ask you to write the official letter to the director, Viscount Moltedo? We will ask that the Rossetti Trading Company be listed as the institution’s benefactor.”

“Yes, of course I can write it. But who is Viscount Moltedo? Aren’t institutions like that managed by the kingdom?”

That was what Dahlia remembered learning in primary school. Was this a private institution run by Viscount Moltedo personally?

“They are, but the kingdom entrusts their operation to various noble families. Viscount Moltedo is responsible mainly for institutions that care for children, including the one Mena grew up in.”

Dahlia suddenly recalled Mena mentioning that the director wore a hairpiece—but more importantly, that he had named the children himself and even given them their own bedrooms.

“I thought that the director lived in the same building as the children and helped care for them.”

“Yes, and Viscount Moltedo does just that, whereas I believe other nobles hire managers to carry out those duties in their stead. The viscount still lives in the Mena’s old orphanage and even eats his meals with the children. For that reason, he is called the Honorable Pauper.”

He sounded like an extraordinary person. No wonder Mena continued to visit him even after leaving the institution.

“First we’ll get the roof fixed, and then we can prod Mena for...details about the state of the orphanage. If they’re not receiving adequate funds, I can bring my complaints to a friend of mine along with some dried fish.”

Ivano grinned widely, but which friend was he referring to? The first nobles Dahlia could think of who liked dried fish were Guido and Jonas, but other faces came to mind as well.

“Um, Ivano, are you sure this is all right? I can always make a personal donation to—”

“No, Chairwoman. There is only so much we can personally give. For as good as this year was, we cannot say what the future holds—though of course, I have no intention of letting the company fall to ruin.”

“Well, you have a point...”

“I think a certain man who wears a double feather lapel pin will be the easiest to talk to about this.”

That could be none other than Gildo, the royal head treasurer. I don’t know about him being easy to talk to, but he’s certainly the most direct route.

It was also true that he was the best person to approach with this matter, so Dahlia decided to hold her tongue and let her dependable vice-chairman do as he saw fit.

“Now, moving on to today’s other paperwork... Please confirm these figures and sign here. Once I finish with the rough draft of that letter, I will speak with Forto at the Tailors’ Guild about the matter of their warehouses.”

“So they really are running out of room to store things?”

Lucia had filled her in on the issue when they had lunch together the other day. In addition to the storage demands of the Rossetti Trading Company’s magical tools—the toe socks, drying insoles, zephyricloth, as well as covers, quilts, and cushions for the heated tables—the Tailors’ Guild regularly sold a greater than usual volume of clothing and linens during the winter festival period. As a result, they were running out of space in their warehouse.

“Yes, they are. We’re coming up on the winter festival, and more people are moving into the city. There are even plans to fill in the coast so there’s land for more warehouses.”

Land was as much an issue in this world as it had been in Dahlia’s previous world. The southern part of the capital contained the sea port. If the city could build more warehouses there, it would make the loading and unloading cargo much more convenient. However, land reclamation in the harbor would likely pose considerable hurdles. Heavy machinery did not exist in this world, after all.

Or so Dahlia thought, but it seemed her concerns were unwarranted.

“I hear it’ll hardly take any time at all with all the kingdom’s most skilled earth mages working together,” Ivano said.

“Oh, really?”

“Lord Bernigi said that it’s easier to heave rock out of the water than to make brick buildings.”

Dahlia thought of Bernigi’s smiling face in place of heavy machinery, and for some reason, the image didn’t seem all that strange.

She could understand how a project that required a single strong burst of magic would be easier than one that demanded delicate control, but regardless, it sounded like it would be an impressive feat of construction.

“Now, I have to apologize, but I’ll be leaving early for once. The dogs are coming home today.”

“The ones you got for your daughters, right?”

Not long ago, Ivano had adopted two dogs. When they had still been puppies, he’d put them in the care of a trainer, bringing them home once every four days. Their three-month-long training was now complete, so the puppies were finally returning home for good.

“The girls are so excited. They’ve been a real handful... I decided the puppies will be their winter festival gifts, with my eldest being responsible for the black dog and my youngest for the white dog—though of course, my youngest will need some grown-up assistance.”

“That breed gets quite big, don’t they?”

“Yes, they are closely related to nightdogs, so they will grow to be enormous. They’ve been trained not to bark without reason, so they ought to make good guard dogs. They need to be walked quite a lot, so I’m hoping they will help me stay in shape.”

“I see you’re following Professor Oswald’s advice.”

Dahlia seemed to recall that during the summer, around the same time she’d been learning castle etiquette, Ivano had become concerned about his midsection. Oswald had recommended that he get a puppy.

Ivano lowered his navy blue eyes and grimaced. “...Yes, I suppose I am.”

Perhaps it was a sensitive topic for him. He did look much more slender than he had in the summer. Dahlia just hoped it wasn’t due to work-induced digestive issues.

“Speaking of which, Professor Oswald mentioned that he didn’t train his dog well and it ended up biting him. Did he not have it trained as a puppy?”

“I’m not sure... I’m having trouble remembering...” Ivano replied evasively.

Dahlia wondered whether it was perhaps shameful for a noble to get bitten by his own dog. She decided she would say no more on this matter.

In an attempt to dispel the awkward atmosphere, she pulled a white envelope from her bag.

“To celebrate my first winter festival as a company chairwoman, this is for you, Vice-Chairman.”

Gabriella had informed Dahlia that it was customary for the head of a company to give a small gift to their employees during the winter festival of their first year of operation.

“Thank you, Chairwoman! But I do want to point out that you already gave each of the employees one of those swizzle sticks. I remember telling you that was plenty...”

“That’s neither here nor there.”

Considering everything that Ivano had done for her, she wanted to give him something nicer than a swizzle stick. After careful thought, she’d decided on a moderately heavy gift. She hoped he wouldn’t mind.

“Inside this envelope is a voucher. You’ll want to pick it up by carriage on your way home. It’s heavy. They should be able to cut it up for you in the store.”

“Hmm? What in the world is it?”

Ivano looked uncharacteristically flustered as he ripped open the envelope. When he saw the red card inside, his face broke into a smile.

“Why, rock cheese! Thank you! My wife and daughters will be overjoyed as well. And I’ll happily eat this sliced ham with my wine!”

The first half of Dahlia’s gift to Ivano was a delicious cheese that, true to its name, was hard as a rock. It kept for a long time and could be sliced and eaten plain or grated over other food. Above all, she knew it was a favorite of Ivano’s wife, and she was relieved to hear that his daughters would appreciate it as well. It would be kept whole at the shop for Ivano to pick up in sections as he liked.

The second half of the gift was a square ham, thinly sliced and flavored with aromatic spices. It was a favorite of Ivano’s and a bit on the expensive side, being marketed to nobles. Once, when she and he had dined together, the normally loquacious Ivano had fallen silent to savor his ham. He had told her he’d enjoyed it so much that he wished he could someday have some in his refrigerator, so Dahlia had thought it would be the perfect thing to get him for the winter festival.

Incidentally, Dahlia had some in her own refrigerator at home. She planned to share it with Volf the next time they drank together.

“Oh, by the way, did you give Mena that notepad he was writing in?”

“I did. He told me once that he thought my notepad was stylish, so I gave him a brown leather one from the same shop where I got mine. Perhaps I should have gotten one in the same color as my own. In any case, from now on, I want Mena to grow as a merchant.”

Ivano evidently had high expectations for Mena. Dahlia reflected that although Marcella was now also an employee of the Rossetti Trading Company, he was also, first and foremost, a knight of the Scalfarotto family. It was quite a tall order to ask him to become a knight and a merchant at the same time. Dahlia had a feeling Ivano would be making Mena work hard.

The best thing to do would have been to hire more employees, but then they would have to conduct background checks and train them, which would be difficult with Ivano’s already packed schedule.

“Chairwoman, may I ask what you gave everyone else?”

“Let’s see... I gave Marcella an orange lap blanket made of baphomet wool and matching winter swaddle blankets for the babies. When Mena picked me up in the carriage this morning, I gave him a baphomet wool blanket and a yellow slime dunasphera cushion for the coach seat.”

It was the season of giving, and Dahlia had wanted to go all out. She had chosen the gifts as carefully as she would have chosen Christmas or New Year’s presents in her previous life.

Marcella and Irma had been delighted at how warm the baphomet wool was. Mena, meanwhile, had laid the blanket across his lap but for some reason had insisted on hugging the cushion instead of sitting on it.

Dahlia and Lucia had exchanged gifts as well. Dahlia had given Lucia a small light-blue magical lantern with silver embellishments in the hopes that its cool glow would have a relaxing effect. Lucia had already expressed her thanks, confirming the lantern’s effectiveness by saying it had been helping with her late-night needlework. In turn, she had given Dahlia a brown leather briefcase, sleek and sophisticated enough to carry into the castle.

It’s fun to have so many more people to give presents to this winter festival, Dahlia thought to herself.

Ivano rummaged in his bag and extracted something. “Well, as it so happens, I have something for you too. It’s not an appropriate gift for a subordinate to give to his superior, so I’m presenting this to you not as my chairwoman but as Dahlia. Here, for you.”

Ivano placed two—why two?—slender wooden boxes on the table.

At his urging, she opened one of them. Inside was a small silver feather. Its quill was adorned with red and blue beads, and a decorative string was tied around the tip. It didn’t seem to be a monster’s feather; she sensed no magic emanating from it.

“It’s a charm from Ehrlichia—a pegasus feather. It’s supposed to be good luck in matchmaking and health and such. I bought a set of two, so please give the other to Sir Volf.”

This year had been filled with vexing and nauseating events. It was understandable that Ivano would worry after her health.

Next year, she was to become a baroness, but once she made it through her promotion, she had no doubt that the rest of the year would pass at a much more relaxed pace than this one had.

“Thank you, Ivano. I’ll give this to Volf the next time I see him. I hope they help us both suffer fewer stomachaches next year...”

“...Yes, one can only hope...”

And with that, the two of them got back to work.

Once Ivano finished composing the rough draft of the letter, he gave it to his boss and left the office.

On the other side of the door, where Dahlia couldn’t hear him, he muttered, “Those feathers were expensive. They better work to tie those two together!”

Beneath the cloudy sky, the day was cold enough to warrant using a warm air circulator in the carriage. On the street, people were bundled up in thick jackets, gloves, and scarves.

Dahlia was in a good mood as she rocked with the movement of the carriage.

On the very evening the letter was delivered to the institution, Ivano’s carpenter friend had gone to examine its roof. Some sections had needed replacement; the cost would be close to the estimate Mena had given. In the meantime, the carpenter had been able to make some stopgap repairs to keep the rain out, and the next day, with the director’s approval, he had returned to complete the repairs.

Yesterday, a polite thank-you letter had arrived from Viscount Moltedo. His exquisite wax seal, which depicted a shield, was a trifle intimidating, but Dahlia had been greatly relieved to read the contents; the viscount had made it clear that the institution would be able to weather the winter without difficulty.

Still, she couldn’t keep the worries out of her head, so she’d asked Mena how the orphanage was holding up. He’d informed her that they had plenty of food and clothing for the winter.

Viscount Moltedo lived with the orphans and was strict about etiquette and education, so the children who’d been under his care never had difficulties finding employment. Some even received offers of adoption from noble families. Mena spoke of the institution in much the same way one might boast about one’s own family, which put any fears Dahlia had to rest.

The carriage slowed, and the cluster of white stone buildings that formed the royal castle drew into view. Dahlia composed her expression and straightened up in her seat.

Today was the Order of Beast Hunters’ final meeting of the year. Apparently, however, it was a meeting in name only; Dahlia had been told it was a casual gathering for the final workday of the year.

She had left behind Ivano, who was reviewing some paperwork and writing a reply for the messenger from the Tailors’ Guild. Due to the matter with the warehouses, they would continue to adjust their inventory up to the very last days of the year.

Ivano had offered to accompany her to the castle, but she’d declined; she didn’t want to add to his mountain of work. Thankfully, Volf could escort her back, so she had asked Mena to return to the office early and assist Ivano.

Marcella, meanwhile, was at the Scalfarotto family residence learning earth magic from Bernigi. It was already known that his soon-to-be-born twins possessed strong earth magic. As their father, Marcella was going to learn how to control his own magic so that he could prevent any accidents. Fortunately, Marcella and Bernigi reportedly got along well, so she wasn’t unduly concerned about them.

From the castle’s carriage stop, Dahlia followed a pathway to a room in which she underwent checks of her identification and belongings. Though she had been here countless times already, visiting the castle still made her nervous.

Still apprehensive, she donned a black robe with silver trim and five magic circles stitched into the lining—proof of her status as advisor to the Order of Beast Hunters—and proceeded down a hallway toward her destination.

If she were honest, she still hadn’t gotten used to the robe; she felt a little ill at ease inside it.

At the end of the restricted-access hallway, she found Volf and Jonas already waiting in front of another carriage.

“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, Volf, Master Jonas.”

“No worries; we weren’t waiting long at all. Welcome, Dahlia.”

“Good day, Master Dahlia. It is always a pleasure.”

Volf was in uniform, while Jonas wore an advisor’s robe like Dahlia’s over his dark gray three-piece suit. Together, the three of them boarded the carriage.

Once she was seated, Dahlia took a peek at Jonas’s complexion. Contrary to her expectations, he didn’t look too pale, but she couldn’t help but be concerned.

“Master Jonas, I heard you and Lord Guido took ill. Are you sure you’re feeling all right?”

After a slight pause, Jonas said, “Yes, all is well. I have fully recovered.” It must have been a nasty cold after all.

Dahlia had heard that the day after she and Volf presented the Ice Spider Wand to Guido and the magical sword Night Piercer to Jonas, the two had both ended up bedridden. Volf had assured her it was nothing to worry about, but the timing concerned her. What if they’d overused their magic to test their new weapons and the resulting strain on their bodies had worsened their conditions?

Jonas said no more but tried unsuccessfully to cover up a cough. His throat must have still been sore. Volf, seated beside her, also coughed, causing her to worry that he had caught the same cold.

“Volf, are you sick?”

“No, I just... Something got caught in my throat...”

“It’s easy to catch a cold this time of year. Please do take care of yourself.”

In this world as in her last, colds were common during this season. What was particularly frightening in this world was the winter epidemic, which was similar to the flu of her past life. There was an outbreak once every few years. Some even died. A medicine existed that was effective when taken at the onset of illness; however, it had not yet come into widespread use due to the fact that the symptoms of the winter epidemic were indistinguishable from those of common colds—besides which, the medicine was expensive and had only a short period of effectiveness.

“Master Dahlia, I apologize for doing this inside the carriage, but I have something for you.”

Jonas suddenly produced a white envelope and handed it to her. It was unsealed, and at his encouragement, she opened it. Listed on the card inside were the twelve months of the year, each with two brands of wine next to it.

“This is from Lord Guido and myself—wine to be delivered to your home. If we gave it to you all at once, it would take up too much space, and some wines are best for different seasons, so our idea was to have Lord Volf bring it to you—you can manage that, can’t you, Volf?” Jonas asked, suddenly addressing him informally.

Volf smiled. “Of course I can, Master Jonas!”

“This is hardly sufficient to express our gratitude, but I hope you both enjoy it.”

“Th-Thank you,” Dahlia stammered. He hadn’t even given her room to decline.

There was only one wine on the list whose name she recognized, and it was one that Volf had bought her, so she had no idea how much it cost. She decided that she would inquire about the prices at a wine shop later.

Captain Grato, Vice-Captain Griswald, and numerous knights were gathered in the large conference room in the Order of Beast Hunters’ wing of the castle. In the center of the room were several tables with red and white wines, orange juice, and sparkling water. Everyone was standing with glasses of their preferred drinks.

Someone handed Dahlia a slice of white bread topped with cheese. To cut one loaf of bread into as many slices as there were people at a gathering and serve it with slices of cheese was a symbol of friendship and deepening ties. Given the number of people present here, it would have been impossible for them all to share one loaf of bread. Dahlia suspected this bread came from multiple loaves that had simply been baked in the same oven, but all the same, she was happy to be considered part of the squad.

“To repeat what I say every New Year—let’s give thanks for being able to fight for another year, thanks to those who have passed on before us, and thanks to everyone who supports us! For the glory of the Kingdom of Ordine! Cheers!”

“Cheers!”

“For the glory of Ordine!”

At the conclusion of Grato’s speech, everyone toasted, and conversation soon filled the room, with cheerful voices discussing topics pertinent to the Beast Hunters. They spoke of monsters they had felled, praised the deeds of their fellow knights, and talked shop about weapons.

Dahlia even overheard some knights enthusing about the taste of forest serpent, giant boar, and longicollis and discussing how best to cook them, but she decided not to involve herself in those conversations.

Grato approached her and said with a dry smirk, “I thought about inviting Gildo to this debriefing session, but the treasury department is a battleground these days...”

Dahlia was sure he was right, considering that the castle was busy settling its own accounts. The treasury also had to deal with the castle’s charitable donations, so there was no doubt they were swamped with work.

“This is their busiest time of year, isn’t it?”

“I think they’re better off than last year, at least. I hear the treasury is toasting with potions,” the vice-captain joked, his blue eyes sympathetic, soliciting laughs from the surrounding knights. Then, as if he had deliberately orchestrated this chance encounter, he continued, “Now, I want to take a moment to thank our two advisors for all they have done for us this year. The squad came together to decide on winter festival gifts to present to you.”

Dahlia and Jonas both let out exclamations of surprise.

“Huh?”

“What?”

Dahlia glanced at Volf, who was looking at her with a big smile on his face. Evidently, this was no surprise to him.

“For Master Dahlia, a gift certificate for a sampling of condiments from Esterland, as I am told you have a great fondness for that nation’s cuisine. For Master Jonas, a certificate for his favorite type of meat, beef. You may order it from the butcher’s whenever you wish to have it delivered. We hope that you both enjoy.”

Dahlia and Jonas both accepted the white envelopes.

“Thank you...”

“I gratefully accept.”

This was the second white envelope Dahlia had received today. Among the items listed were miso and soy sauce as well as some completely novel condiments, like cooking wine, chili oil, fish egg miso, and mushroom powder. I can’t wait to try them all, she thought, unable to suppress a smile.

She turned to look at Jonas, whose eyes were glued to the certificate. Before she could ask what was wrong, he silently tilted the card so she could see for herself.

Beef, beef, beef... The same word repeated itself down one column; in another column were spaces for him to write how much he wanted of each cut. He’d essentially received an all-you-can-eat beef buffet. Dahlia was about to ask if there were any options for pork or chicken, but then she remembered Jonas liked his meat as raw as possible. She had a feeling Volf was behind this selection.

“Thank you very much. I shall be able to eat to my fill,” Jonas said with a smile.

Griswald nodded in satisfaction. “Please do not hesitate to inform me if you find this insufficient. We will be greatly relying on your help in the year to come.”

Dahlia was fully determined to work even harder and contribute even more to the squad in the new year. With that thought, she gently slid the card back into its envelope.

Once today’s gathering was adjourned, half of the squad would be leaving to take their New Year holiday, while the other half would stay behind and remain on call for any urgent beast hunting missions.

Some were going to head straight out for drinks, while others would be returning to their homes outside of the capital. It felt like the last workdays of the year that Dahlia had experienced in her previous life. She hoped that everyone would have a fun time greeting the new year.

When half the attendees had trickled out of the room, Grato handed Dahlia a fresh glass of red wine.

“Rossetti, thank you for all you’ve done for us this year. I also want to thank you for your generosity,” he said to her in a lowered voice, undoubtedly referring to her personal donation.

Dahlia smiled but did not reply, just as Oswald had taught her. Apparently, it was a mark of aristocratic aplomb to say nothing to the recipient of one’s donation. If Oswald hadn’t taught her that nicety, she would probably have been flustered by Grato’s direct expression of gratitude.

Grato smiled and continued at his normal volume. “Next year, we plan to increase the number of sleipnirs we take on expeditions as well as our supply of magical bows for long-range attacks. We’d also like to improve on the wyvern armor—we’ve even discussed potentially having the Scarlet Armors wear it.”

If the Beast Hunters could increase their transportation capacity, strengthen their long-range attacks, and even improve the safety of the Scarlet Armors, that would make things easier for the entire squad. She hoped they could make it all happen.

“I hope we all get to wear wyvern armor someday!” a young green-haired knight exclaimed.

Dahlia thought of the wyvern armor, which resembled a character costume, and imagined the entire Order of Beast Hunters squad wearing suits of their own. It would certainly make an impact. Maybe the mere sight of it would make monsters flee in fear. There was also, however, the possibility that it would attract more wyverns.

“Master Jonas,” a knight was asking, “for your next project, could you please make a powerful spear?!”

“No way—if anything needs improving, it’s our swords!” another chimed in.

“Come on, we need stronger bows before anything else!”

“You bow knights already have the Galeforce Bows! What more do you want?”

Jonas was suddenly surrounded by knights, but he looked to be enjoying himself listening to their suggestions. Noblemen had a knack for socializing.

Dahlia stealthily moved to the wall to avoid being similarly surrounded, and Volf soon materialized at her side with a bottle of red wine. Fortunately, all the other knights were too absorbed in their conversations to approach the two of them.

“Looks like you got yet another winter festival gift, Dahlia,” Volf said with a smile that reached his golden eyes. She knew he was most likely the one who had picked out the gifts for her and Jonas.

The first winter festival gift she had received was the pair of snowflake earrings she was currently wearing, but she hesitated to bring that up here.

“I’m very grateful. I’m going to try my best to make even better magical tools next year. And...”

She and Volf had met at the end of last spring. She hoped they could spend even more time together in the coming year... Suddenly, the gift of wine from Guido and the condiments from the Beast Hunters flashed across her mind.

“...And let’s drink even more than we did this year!”

“Yeah, definitely! I’m looking forward to it!”

At that exchange, several people who had been eavesdropping on their conversation let their shoulders slump in disappointment, but neither Volf nor Dahlia noticed.

After the conversation ebbed away and the squad’s end-of-year review seemed to be drawing to a close, an unexpected visitor strode through the door.

“Is Captain Grato in here?”

The man wore a dark gray three-piece suit; at his lapel gleamed a pair of gold feathers. He was, one might say, the busiest person in the castle today—the head treasurer.

“I’m right here. Is something the matter, Gildo?” Grato answered him with a smile. Only a short time ago, he would have responded with a scowl.

Gildo, meanwhile, looked as though he had swallowed a bug. He approached Grato with a sheaf of papers in his hands.

“These three pages here are missing delivery dates.”

“Hmm? I’ve always left those blank. There’s no fixed date. They’re somewhere between the date I filled in the paperwork and tomorrow.”

“I’m the one who’d been looking into it and filling in the date until now. But it is your responsibility.”

“Is it...? Sorry, I didn’t intend to put more work on your plate.”

So Gildo had been silently covering for Grato, then. The other knights watched the conversation in surprise.

“This one requires information on the supplementary budget, so add that in as well,” Gildo instructed.

“All right...”

“Don’t give me that look. It’s your job.”

“I’m no good at filling out paperwork! It takes me a lot of time. Would my good friend be willing to help me in exchange for a bottle of red wine?”

Gildo responded to Grato’s half-joking remark with a consummate aristocratic smile that sent a chill down Dahlia’s spine.

“We are good friends, aren’t we? Let me give you a very thorough lesson, then, on how to do it properly. The red wine ought to cover the tutoring fee.”

“Wait, Gildo! We all have our strengths and weaknesses, don’t we? If I do it myself, it’ll take me until the dead of night.”

“That’s quite all right. We have a table you can use in the treasury office. You will have ample time to finish it before tomorrow, no matter how many mistakes you make.” Gildo gave Dahlia a brief glance. “Moreover, I have just purchased portions in bulk from the guild at bargain prices—they expire today.”

Dahlia and the head treasurer had once had a discussion about being economical with respect to accounting. She remembered mentioning that if one planned to use items like potions immediately, it was cheaper to buy them very close to their expiration dates. She had never imagined that he would take her advice by purchasing nearly expired potions for the Royal Treasury Department.

“All of us over at the treasury are toasting with potions right now. You will be fine skipping dinner,” Gildo said with a grin.

Grato turned to look at his right-hand man, the vice-captain. “Griswald...”

“Very well, allow me to accompany—”

“Vice-Captain, you have plans this evening to dine with your wife and daughter, do you not? A knight mustn’t go back on his promises. Captain Grato will be coming with me. Alone. Ah—and have a good winter festival and happy New Year, everyone.”

“I wish you a pleasant winter festival and happy New Year as well, Lord Gildo,” Griswald replied.

Everyone echoed the vice-captain’s farewell as Gildo dragged Grato from the room. Despite his grumbling, there was a half smile on the captain’s face.

“Captain Grato and Lord Gildo are pretty chummy these days, huh?”

“Stark difference from how they were last spring...”

“They must genuinely be good friends...”

Several of the knights wore wry smiles; others seemed to regard the receding pair as though witnessing a heartwarming scene. Dahlia felt a little badly for Grato, but work was work. There was no getting around it.

And with that, this year’s final meeting came to a close.

As Dahlia and Volf were about to leave the Order of Beast Hunters’ wing, someone called out to them.

“Chairwoman Dahlia! Lord Volfred!”

A man with inky black hair was hurrying in their direction.

“I’m glad I caught you. I heard you would be here today. Director Uros said he has something to give to Chairwoman Dahlia. If you wouldn’t mind, could I borrow some of your time?”

“Of course, Vice-Director Carmine.”

Carmine, the vice-director of the Royal Magical Toolmaking Department, wore his castle toolmaker robes, but he had dark circles under his eyes and looked fatigued. Dahlia wondered if the same cold that Guido and Jonas had caught was also going around the castle.

“Um, Vice-Director Carmine, are you feeling unwell?”

“No, I just got wrapped up working on a prototype and lost track of time until...morning.”

So he’d stayed up all night. Dahlia knew all too well how time could fly when one was tinkering away at a project.

She and Volf granted Carmine’s request and followed him to the Royal Magical Toolmaking department.

They exited the carriage in front of the two buildings that made up the department’s wing of the castle. Both were white stone four-story buildings; a large red flag waved in front of the entrance to the first building and a blue flag in front of the second.

Depicted on each of the flags was the crest of the Royal Magical Toolmaking Department: eight phases of the moon behind a bird with its wings open in flight; beneath the bird were quill pens.

Dahlia’s group headed into the building with the red flag. Inside, they ascended the stairs and passed through a dull silver door inscribed with a magic circle. Waiting at a desk in the room beyond the door was a man past middle age with graying brown hair—Uros, the director of the Royal Magical Toolmaking Department.

“My apologies for calling you all the way here. I know it’s taken me some time, but I have those work gloves I promised you. They’re durable, so you won’t need to be delicate with them.”

Uros handed Dahlia a pair of gorgeous red gloves, which he hadn’t wrapped. They were long enough to reach her elbows; each had a red stone at the wrist. The leather was very soft.

“Thank you so much... Is this red wyvern leather?”

“Yes, and the lining is made from the silk of monster silkworms. The stones are red coral. In the event that you channel too much magic through the gloves, the stones will break as a safety measure.”

“A-Aren’t those expensive?” Dahlia blurted out without thinking. “Ah, pardon me...”

It was very much the sort of comment a commoner would make, but perhaps it was a less than gracious response to a gift. Still, knowing the price of red coral, she would hate to break these gloves.

“It’s nothing so dear. I broke apart a large branch of the coral and fashioned the fragments into those little stones. Just after I’d finished testing the durability of the reinforced marble floor.”

Uros abruptly turned his vermilion eyes, one partially concealed by a monocle, away from her. From the sound of it, he had dropped the red coral branch on the floor. She wanted to ask just how much an entire branch cost, but she decided to keep her mouth tightly shut.

The first gift that master toolmakers presented to their apprentices was customarily a pair of work gloves. While Dahlia’s father had been the first to give her the opportunity to study magical toolmaking, it was an honor to receive this pair of gloves from the director of the Royal Magical Toolmaking Department. She felt obliged to continue striving to do her best.

“The gloves can resist freezing temperatures and high heat, so they should be helpful when creating magical tools that utilize fire magic. However, they will only protect your arms from the heat. Be sure not to get too close to your enchantment and burn your hair— Ah, apologies. I spoke to you as if you were Carlo.”

“My father made magical tools that used fire?”

“Yes. When we were students, he once increased the output of a large magical lantern for the winter festival too much and scorched his bangs. Oz—I mean, Chairman Zola—was with him at the time, and the two of them sported short bangs for quite a while afterward.”

“My father and Professor Oswald...?”

Never mind her father, she couldn’t imagine Oswald doing something like that. When she tried to envision the two of them with short, burned bangs, she could only picture them as the older men she’d seen most recently—not a flattering look in the slightest.

“Professor Lina was infuriated. She made them sit in the hallway, as they do to discipline students in Esterland, and gave them quite the tongue-lashing.”

“Professor Lina? But she’s so gentle. I can’t imagine her getting that angry.”

“Professor Lina, gentle?” Uros repeated, wide-eyed. In her youth, she must have been a different woman from the professor Dahlia knew.

Uros cleared his throat. “Well, perhaps we were just uncommonly mischievous boys. Leone and I got into similar trouble the year before your father and Chairman Zola did. We burned our hands, not our hair, so we were able to get away with it by quickly drinking potions...”

It sounds like they got actual burns—fairly serious ones. Dahlia stared at Uros, but when she saw the nostalgia in his eyes, she found herself unable to form a response.

“Did you ever make magical tools with your colleagues, Chairwoman Dahlia?” he asked.

“Not very many. Most of the time, I helped my father with his work at home. Besides, when I was in school, the Magical Tool Research Group was temporarily unable to enter the building...”

“Ah, yes. What happened, again? Some young nobles had a terrible quarrel and blew out the wall of the warehouse?”

Uros was clearly familiar with the story. At the time, Dahlia had been busy at home, so to this day, she didn’t know the full details. What she did remember was how haggard Professor Lina had looked when Dahlia returned to school. The wall had been rebuilt sturdier than before, with the repairs requiring several months.

“In my day, we once destroyed a wall with magical tools, but I was surprised to hear that those students did so in the midst of a fight. They weren’t even mages—that’s the part that stood out to me as remarkable. It must have been quite a spirited fight.”

It seemed to Dahlia that destroying the wall of a school building was objectionable whether one did it when making tools, preparing enchantments, or fighting, but before she could comment, Carmine asked a question.

“Even mages destroyed the walls?”

“Yes,” said Uros. “When I was in school, the mage studies students would blow large holes in the exterior walls several times annually. Youths have a hard time controlling their magic, after all.”

“The repair costs must have been astronomical.”

“The repairs were covered by donations, but it was also common for the one responsible to pay the entire cost themselves. Renato used to earn money by working in the cold storage warehouses in the port where krakens were stored.”

“What? My father blew a hole in a wall?” Volf asked, his eyes widening.

“Indeed. Some fool was unaware of his high magic and goaded him to ‘show what a rising viscount can do.’ And so he held nothing back and ended up blowing a hole in a wall. In doing so, he actually improved the ventilation—it was summer—though I heard they had to hire more guards as a result.”

Volf’s father must have had incredible magical power—and, at least in those days, a short fuse.

“Renato offered to pay for the damages, so he split the cost with the instructor who had made the comment. Renato received not a single copper of his family’s money; instead, he worked in the cold storage warehouses. As for the instructor, well...I believe an agreement was worked out that he could pay monthly.”

Volf looked astonished. “I never knew about that...”

Dahlia assumed it was a story his father hadn’t wanted to tell him, but she kept her thoughts to herself.

“Ask him about it next time you sit down to dinner,” Uros said. “He’s so closemouthed when it comes to anything that isn’t work-related. He won’t bring it up himself without some prodding on your part.”

“...I see.”

Dahlia wondered whether Uros knew how little contact Volf had with his father. Perhaps he was simply offering a little encouragement. Regardless, after they’d finished conversing, Uros turned to look out the window.

“This year, thanks to the snow flurry swizzle sticks, mage knights are joining the mages who can create snow and ice. Up until last year, attendance was compulsory for all who could use ice magic, but now, not only will less money be spent on potions, there will be fewer people going blue in the face.”

Here in the Kingdom of Ordine’s capital, snow seldom fell, and when it did—no more than a few times a year—very little accumulated. However, starting from the winter festival through the New Year holiday, the plazas and the central and district parks were carpeted in white. The citizens enjoyed the short-lived snow by sculpting snow flowers and making small snowmen.

Dahlia had always appreciated the snow—for her, it was what made winter feel like winter—but it was only possible thanks to the hard work of the ice mages. And apparently they were worked to the bone at the end of the year.

“I made some small modifications to the sticks to increase their snow output. Here are the blueprints.”

With a swizzle stick in his hand, Uros conjured a pile of snow, as fluffy as cotton candy, on his desk. With a single wave, he’d produced enough to fill a pair of cupped hands. Now that looks like snow!

Uros’s design was more than a modification. It was practically an entirely new tool. He had used the same kelpie bone and ice magic crystal that Dahlia had, but the circuit allowed the user to channel their magic into it more efficiently.

Simple though the blueprint looked, he had streamlined Dahlia’s design to perfection—it was breathtaking. This is what a director of the Royal Magical Toolmaking Department is capable of. Dahlia was newly conscious of the gulf in ability between them.

“That’s amazing...” she breathed.

“The circuit could be a tad bit shorter... I’ll lend you this. Give it back as soon as you’ve learned how to do it. Feel free to copy as much of it as you need.”

With a thud, he set a heavy spellbook down beside the blueprint. It would take ages to copy out the entire thing, but Dahlia was very curious to learn its contents. This was not a commercially available textbook but a spellbook. Generally, spellbooks contained information that toolmakers would only teach their apprentices and junior toolmakers in their workshops. She was very grateful that Uros was willing to lend his to her; it would be a great help in her work as an advisor and magical toolmaker to the Order of Beast Hunters.

There was one question: Would she be able to comprehend and learn its contents?

“Thank you very much... I will do my best.”

Dahlia bowed appreciatively, and Carmine wrapped the blueprint and spellbook in a black cloth. Then, without hesitation, he handed it not to Dahlia but to Volf, who accepted it without question. Dahlia assumed this was a matter of noble etiquette, but it made her a trifle uneasy.

“At any rate, enjoy the winter festival,” Uros said.

“Have a good winter festival and a happy New Year,” Dahlia replied.

After they had said their goodbyes, she and Volf left the room.

She’d received yet another generous winter festival gift. And with it, she felt as if she had also been given some challenging winter break homework.

By the time Dahlia returned to her office in the Merchants’ Guild, it was early evening.

Starting tomorrow, the Rossetti Trading Company would be closed for an entire week. Ivano claimed he only needed five days off, but Dahlia had used her authority as chairwoman to require everyone to take the full week off. How could she allow even one of her employees to work during the festival?

“Thank you all for a good year! I look forward to continuing to work together next year!”

“Thank you!”

It was a standard, ordinary speech, but it worked to kick off the Rossetti Trading Company’s own final meeting of the year.

Volf stood at Dahlia’s side; opposite the two of them, Ivano, Marcella, and Mena stood in a line. This company that she had founded on her own had, in the blink of an eye, grown to include all these reliable employees.

“Please make sure not to forget anything here when you leave,” Ivano advised everyone. “Apparently, the chairwoman intends not to let us back into the office until the seventh.”

For safety’s sake, Dahlia had decided she would leave the two keys to the office in a Merchants’ Guild vault for a length of time previously agreed upon. She would be the only one permitted to retrieve them.

She hadn’t told Ivano that the purpose of this measure was to prevent him from working on his days off, but he must have surmised as much; when she told him what she’d done, he had smiled bitterly in acceptance.

“Are you going directly to the temple from here, Marcella?” Dahlia asked.

“Yeah, I need to bring some more food and take away some more bricks...”

The unborn twins’ magic had grown stronger yet again, so Irma was pouring sand from her hand into a bucket, and Marcella was turning that into bricks and sneaking them out.

In other news, Irma was currently eating four portions at every meal. She had groused that she was starting to find chewing bothersome, so Dahlia had brought her an entire pot of vegetable soup. Irma had emptied the entire pot as they chatted. Only then had Dahlia realized just how difficult it must be for Irma to eat not only for herself but for growing twins with exceptionally strong magic.

“I’ve heard you’ve advanced from making stone weights to beautiful red bricks.”

“Oh, hardly. I still can’t get the corners sharp. Lord Bernigi tells me he won’t give me a passing grade until I can make them into proper rectangles...”

Marcella’s progress was undoubtedly the result of learning under a masterful earth mage. But Bernigi must have been a strict teacher if he considered rounded corners to constitute a serious flaw.

Seeing the far-off look in Marcella’s eyes, Dahlia decided to ask, “Marcella, could I take some of those bricks? I’d love to use them to replace some of the worn-out stones in the tower.”

They both knew that bricks weren’t an adequate substitute for stones, but Marcella answered with a smile anyway. “Of course. Take as many as you want!”

“...Does that work?” Volf wondered aloud.

“I’m not too sure myself,” Mena admitted.

Dahlia thought Volf was about to point out that she couldn’t swap one material for another, but instead, he looked at her and said, “Dahlia, if you use red bricks, then it won’t be the Green Tower anymore. Won’t that confuse any new delivery people who come your way?”

For a split second, Dahlia wondered incredulously, Just how many bricks does he think I’m going to use? But then she saw the playful glint in his golden eyes.

“Maybe you could swap the stones out for bricks in specific spots and turn it into the Spotted Tower.”

Everyone laughed at Mena’s innovative and artistic idea. Then, as if he’d been anticipating the chance to do so, he asked, “By the way, everyone except for Marcella—are you all going to the winter festival?”

“Why are you leaving me out?” Marcella muttered, but laughter drowned out his comment.

“Yes, I plan to go,” Dahlia said.

“With Lord Volf, right? Will you be visiting the food stalls? Or will you be shopping?” Mena asked.

“We want to check out the stalls,” Volf said.

“Have you two already bought your winter festival masks?”

“No, I figured we could buy them on the day of...”

Neither Dahlia nor Volf had had the time to stop by a shop, so they’d been planning to stop by a store or stall on the day of the festival. One of the reasons she wanted to buy them was because if they were wearing masks, no one would know who was walking with whom.

“The spots that sell masks will be pretty crowded on the day of the festival,” said Marcella. “You should buy them beforehand. Both you and Volf.”

“Would you like to buy them from me?” Mena asked. “One of my girlfriends sells masks, and she gave me several to sell. I even sold a few to some guild workers.”

“Sure, that’d be great.”

“Thank you, Mena.”

Dahlia and Volf answered at exactly the same instant. As she stood frozen, surprised at their perfectly synchronized response, Mena turned to Ivano.

“What about you, Vice-Chairman? Would you like masks for your daughters?”

“My girls are still too young to wear winter festival masks. We’re going to browse the shops and then have a lovely dinner at home.”

“Ah, of course. These are the short, precious years you have before they start going out with boyfriends...”

Ivano’s eyes bulged. “Mena! I don’t even want to think about that!”

Seeing the look on Ivano’s face, Dahlia didn’t know what to say. Ivano cleared his throat, and his look of distress morphed into a professional smile—a smile didn’t seem to reach his navy blue eyes.

“Mezzena Grieve, I will give you one word of advice. If you value your life, never say something like that to a father.”

Mena straightened his back in response to this prudent advice from his superior. “I will engrave those words on my heart.”

Ivano had two daughters, a seven-year-old and a four-year-old. The winter festival was an event that many people either attended with their significant others or in order to find a significant other. It was naturally far too soon for the little girls to go while wearing masks.

That said, it was also common for friends to attend the festival together, and when Dahlia was in college, many of her classmates had gone in groups. Dahlia herself had never joined them, preferring to sit down for a delicious dinner with her father.

“So, um, would you two like the kind that only cover the upper half of your face?” Mena asked. “It will be easier to eat that way.”

“Yeah, that seems to fit our plans best,” Volf answered.

Mena shifted his heavy trunk from the floor to the table and opened it up, revealing eight winter festival masks inside.

They reminded Dahlia of masks from her previous world; she had seen them worn during the carnivals of a country called Italy many times on television. Specifically, the masks inside Mena’s trunk resembled what she had once known as Venetian masks, though these were not designed to resemble animals or other living creatures.

When eating at the winter festival, people either removed their masks or wore masks that only covered their noses. The trunk contained four masks in that half-face style. Dahlia’s eyes were naturally drawn to them.

“Would you like one with a red cheek?” Mena asked her.

“Oh, well, those are for people who are spoken for, right? So maybe not...”

The half-face masks didn’t quite cover the cheeks but came down below the eyes; only the area around the left cheek was painted red. That mark signified that the wearer of the mask was attending the festival with a lover or was otherwise taken and did not want to be approached.

Dahlia did not have a significant other, hence her uncertain reply, but Mena regarded her intently with his light blue eyes. “Chairwoman, if you don’t wear one with a red cheek, then you’ll have people approaching you from every which way. If you two are going to be making the rounds of the food stalls together, I think it’s best that you wear a mask with a red cheek—that can be enough to ward people off. Unless you and Volf plan to go your separate ways if you find someone you’re interested in pursuing?”

For the second time today, Dahlia’s and Volf’s responses overlapped perfectly.

“No, I’m not looking to pursue anyone.”

“No, I’m not looking to pursue anyone.”

They’d even matched each other word for word. She and Volf were clearly on the same wavelength, but yet again, she found herself feeling awkwardly frozen.

Thankfully, Mena quickly filled the silence in. “All right, two masks with red cheeks, then. Thank you very much!”

And so, at Mena’s recommendation, each of them took a mask. Both were white, Dahlia’s with golden embellishments, Volf’s with dark green. Volf paid for both, and Mena carefully wrapped them in a cloth bag. Dahlia vowed to buy Volf something at the festival stalls to repay him.

They all wished one another happy holidays once again and then left the office as a group.

Volf rode with Dahlia from the Merchants’ Guild back to the tower. As always, she took his hand as she descended from the carriage.

The red of sunset had faded from the night sky, and the streetlamps were starting to light up. It was the time of day when the two of them usually ate and drank together, but Volf had said he had to head back.

He had accompanied her to the Order of Beast Hunters’ building, the Royal Magical Toolmaking Department, and to the year-end meeting of the Rossetti Trading Company. But perhaps he could have gone out to drink with friends or even taken care of chores at home.

“Volf, you didn’t miss out on any plans to keep me company today, did you?” she asked.

“Nope, I had no plans,” he answered immediately with a shake of his head.

Still not quite convinced, she examined his face, and he grinned widely at her.

“I can’t wait for tomorrow, so...I’m skipping dinner and going to bed early in preparation!”

What are you, a kid on Christmas Eve?! It’s too early for even the most well-behaved kids in Ordine to go to bed! But he was so earnest, so genuine, that despite the thoughts filling her head, there was only one way Dahlia could answer.

“...I’ll do the same.”

“Okay then, what if instead of meeting right before noon, we meet for morning tea—or actually, how about right after breakfast?”

“Sure.”

Their rendezvous time had suddenly moved up by several hours. Not that that should be a problem, since the festival stalls began selling in the morning.

Once she got inside, all she had to do was get ready for tomorrow, hop in the bath, dry her hair, and go to sleep. Though to be honest, she didn’t think she would be able to fall asleep right away. Not only was it too early, but Dahlia was just as excited as Volf for tomorrow.

“See you tomorrow!” they told each other at the gate, then parted ways, both smiling.

That night, both felt grateful from the bottom of their hearts for the effectiveness of the moonbeam butterfly nap lanterns.

“Hmm? Does it seem like there’s more snow for the winter festival this year?”

At Dorino’s question, the knights of the Order of Beast Hunters, who were headed to their afterparty, all stopped in their tracks. The ground to either side of the road was piled high with more snow than Dorino had ever seen before. Generally, on the morning of the winter festival, there was only a small mound of snow bracketing the entrance of the Order’s wing. This year’s snow was downright bountiful.

“Yeah, the Magical Toolmaking Department made something called a snowfall wand,” one of the knights replied. “Now all they need to make snow is an ice crystal. And when they add their own magic, they can produce this much...”

When Dorino looked at the mage who was currently creating the mountain of fluffy snow—a fire mage who occasionally joined the Order of Beast Hunters on their expeditions—he was grinning like a child.

“This is so much fun!” the mage exclaimed.

It was easy to understand his amusement. It must have been exhilarating for him to be able to create snow, something so far removed from his own fire magic. And he wasn’t the only one having fun.

“Tee hee hee...”

On the side of the road, two female mages waved their wands, beaming. Both were earth mages; Dorino remembered seeing them restore the training grounds to a level surface.

When he looked farther down the road, he saw that both sides were blanketed in a substantial amount of snow.

Just how many snowfall wands had the Royal Magical Toolmaking Department made? And how many mages were using them? Dorino wouldn’t be surprised if the castle was pure white for tomorrow’s festival.

“I’m getting chilly just looking at it. Come on, let’s go to the tavern before we all catch a cold,” said one of the older knights. Everyone nodded in agreement.

The winter festival was tomorrow, but these knights, who were neither married nor returning home, couldn’t stray too far from the castle; they were to return to their posts in the early evening and would be ringing in the New Year in the Order’s wing. Knights who were betrothed, married, or had children, or whose hometowns were far from the capital, were given priority to go home.

“Ah, Master Jonas!”

Jonas, who had removed his advisor’s robe in favor of a cloak over a knight’s uniform, walked over to them. His outfit made him look like he belonged among the group of Beast Hunters.

“We’re going out for a drink. Would you care to join us?” Dorino suggested.

“Thank you kindly for the invitation, but I am on my way to attend to Lord Guido—”

Halfway through Jonas’s response, his rust-colored eyes focused on something behind Dorino. When Dorino turned around to look, he saw Guido himself walking this way with several mages.

“The Order of Beast Hunters’ debriefing session is over, is it? Is your group en route to an afterparty, Sir Barti?”

“Yes, that’s correct,” Dorino responded, straightening up upon being addressed by his last name. The man before him was Volf’s brother, but he was also a soon-to-be marquis and a company leader within the Mages’ Corps.

“I see. I have a small favor to ask of you...” Guido strode up purposefully to Dorino and smiled at him up close. “Would you allow Jonas to join you? He needs to let his hair down every now and then.”

“I extended an invitation just now, as it so happens.”

“Wonderful. Do look after him for me.”

With a quick movement of his fingers, Guido slipped something into the pocket of Dorino’s uniform. He had a feeling it was a gilt silver.

He was about to say that the Order had given him enough money to cover the party, but Guido briefly put his index finger up to his lips as if to say, Keep this our little secret.

“Lord Guido, who will escort you back—”

“I am on my way to cover the First Knights’ Regiment’s building in snow, and then I will be meeting my father after he has done the same to the exterior of the throne room. Anyway, I have my own wand, so there is no need for you to worry. It’s good to enjoy yourself sometimes, Jonas.”

“...Very well.”

Jonas nodded in resignation to his master’s smiling order. He seemed ill at ease leaving his duties behind, even if it meant drinking for free.

Dorino didn’t think there was a person alive who would ever want to take on the current and future heads of the Scalfarotto family, both of whom were powerful ice mages, but he decided not to think too much about it. It was just another one of those things about nobles that he didn’t understand.

After the knights watched Guido and his group depart, they began walking in the direction of their usual tavern. Dorino fingered the coin in his pocket. It felt a little small to be a gilt silver. Wanting to confirm his suspicion, he took it out and held it carefully in the palm of his hand. When he saw the splendidly gleaming gold, any doubt he’d had about not having enough drinking money tonight vanished completely.

As he stowed the gold coin in his inner pocket to keep from losing it, he muttered to himself, “Master Jonas is going to have to drink an entire cask of wine.”

On the third floor of their favorite drinking establishment, each of the knights took a seat and grabbed a glass.

After sweeping his gaze across the assembled knights, Dorino rose to his feet, glass in hand. Tonight, he was acting as not only the organizer but the financial sponsor of this afterparty.

“Now then—welcome, fellow bachelors, single yet again at the end of the year in this cold winter, to the debriefing session afterparty!”

“Oh, shut up!”

“We’ve heard enough of that already!”

Laughter and complaints mingled together. Dorino had only spoken the truth, so he didn’t want to hear their objections.

“For now, let us pray that each of us will have the exceptional good fortune of not attending this afterparty next year. Thanks for a great year, everyone! Cheers!”

“I’ll be skipping this party next year for sure! Cheers!”

“Cheers! To another good year!”

Basking in the soft light of the magical lamps, the knights banged their glasses together so forcefully they nearly broke. Now all they had left to do was eat their fill and drink the night away. There was nothing formal about tonight’s gathering. It was going to be a freewheeling drinking party.

“Master Jonas, try some of this sliced steak!”

Dorino took the large plate from the server and set it down in front of Jonas, who was sitting next to him. The thick slices of steak had been lightly seared on one side and were still mostly bright red in the middle.

When Jonas had joined the Beast Hunters on an earlier expedition, he had mentioned that, as a result of his blight, he wasn’t terribly fond of vegetables or cooked meat. Dorino would have felt bad if Jonas had joined them only to be unable to enjoy the food. To make sure that didn’t happen, he had asked the server to bring them fresh, high-quality beef, cut into easy-to-eat pieces. The steak the server had brought was unseasoned, but there were salt and pepper on the table along with the restaurant’s special sauce.

“Thank you.” Jonas’s smile was perfectly polite, but Dorino could have sworn he’d caught a glimpse of a gleaming white canine tooth.

I hope he likes it, he thought to himself as he turned his gaze to another table. There, too, the server had started handing out plates of cut steak and grilled meat skewers to anyone who wanted them. Their table was filled with other hearty dishes, including seafood and vegetable fritters, loaded sandwiches, and bread bowls. There were also some dishes specifically for the heavier drinkers, like beef offal stew and heaps of salted nuts.

Dorino knew that there were many knights in the squad who liked sweet foods, so he had called for apple pie and deep-fried fruit to be brought out from the start. Some of the older knights preferred fish, so he had also ordered dried fish and dried kraken.

Dorino’s parents owned an eatery in the lower city. Since he had been given the responsibility to oversee this party, he had wanted to make sure everyone had options. With that thought, he had consulted with the tavern keeper in advance, and they were being treated even better than he had hoped. Each time a plate of food was brought over, joyful cheers rang out from the tables.

Feeling satisfied with how the party was turning out, Dorino ate a sandwich stuffed with shrimp, boiled egg, and minced broccoli, then washed it down with a glass of red ale. Across from him, a younger knight with green eyes was tearing into a nicely charred meat skewer.

“Kirk, are you sure you want to be here? We’re on call starting tomorrow, so I figured you’d want to see your fiancée today.”

“Actually, she is the one who encouraged me to join.”

What a nice fiancée he’s got himself, Dorino thought.

Jonas filled Kirk’s glass with red ale. “You have an understanding fiancée. I’m envious.”

“Thank you, Master Jonas!”

“I’m just jealous that you have a fiancée at all,” Dorino huffed. “Why don’t you just get married already, Kirk?”

“We plan to next summer. That’s why she told me to come to the afterparty today.”

As Kirk gave that straightforward answer, all heads turned his way. Some knights spilled their drinks or scooted their chairs back noisily, but everyone pretended not to have noticed that; a knight’s honor—no, a bachelor’s—mandated a certain discretion.

“Congratulations, Kirk!”

“I’m surprised it’s happening so soon, but that’s great!”

“Kirk, get over here!” called a knight a few years his senior. “Tell me all about your relationship, starting with how you met!”

Kirk smiled and went to join the older knight. There was a good chance his new companions were going to get him drunk, but Kirk had come equipped with hangover medicine and a magical tool to manage overdrinking, so he should be fine.

“Nicola’s wedding reception is tomorrow, isn’t it? Interesting that it’s on the same day as the winter festival.”

“His bride’s family is from a domain far outside the capital, so they timed their wedding to coincide with the bride’s family visiting the temple for the festival.”

Landowning nobles came to the capital during the winter festival season to give their donations to the temple directly. This was to ensure that the temple would continue to send priests to their domains the following year. In the countryside, having the means to treat illnesses and injuries was vital, so many landed gentry and their future successors came as well.

Nicola’s bride was reportedly the daughter of a landed viscount. Considering the difficulties in travel that the distance between them created, it was a logical choice for them to hold their wedding on the day of the winter festival.

“So, Nicola will be graduating from bachelorhood. Speaking of, I know Volf escorted Master Dahlia home after the meeting, but is he not joining us here?”

“He said they’re going to the winter festival together tomorrow. Maybe they’re getting ready for that?”

“Oh, maybe. Master Dahlia was also wearing her snowflake earrings today...”

The older knights at the neighboring table were discussing Dorino’s friend. He was wondering whether he should fill them in when one of the knights spoke up, his voice full of emotion.

“I see. So has spring finally sprung for Volf...?”

Randolph and Dorino replied at exactly the same instant.

“It has not.”

“No, nothing like that.”

Jonas’s expression remained unchanged, but little ripples formed in his glass of ale.

“They’re planning on eating until they drop. Volf even bought stomach medicine as a precaution,” Dorino explained.

“He stuffed a satchel full of copper coins too,” Randolph added.

The senior knights let out a collective sigh.

“What is he, a primary schooler...?”

“No, these days, even primary schoolers are more...”

Dorino had to agree with them on several points, but he also felt that Volf was getting a chance to redo his adolescence. For that reason, Dorino had decided to keep watch from a discreet distance. If Volf ever went badly offtrack, Dorino and Randolph could always step in to give him a nudge in the right direction.

During a lull in the conversation, Jonas asked, “Is anyone here going to the winter festival tomorrow?”

“We’re going to buy some food from the stalls and head back to the barracks to rest. We’ll all be on duty in the castle starting tomorrow evening. What about you, Master Jonas—will you be working?”

“Yes, I intend to.”

When he glanced at the platter in front of Jonas and found it clean of steak, Dorino called over a server and asked for another plate.

As he waited, he decided to ask about something he’d been wondering about.

“Master Jonas, would you prefer something a bit stronger?”

“...Yes,” Jonas replied after a pause, as if reluctant to admit it.

Jonas had been drinking ale like it was water, without bothering to enjoy the taste. From that fact, Dorino assumed it wasn’t his drink of choice.

“What would you prefer, rum or fuoco?”

“Fuoco, please.”

Fuoco was a hard liquor said to be so strong that it could make one breathe fire—just the sort of drink for the rust-eyed man. Dorino ordered one bottle of fuoco and another of water from the server, then returned to the conversation.

“This year is Nicola, next year is Kirk. And Volf, most likely. It’d be great if a few more people could move on from this bachelor banquet!” a knight exclaimed.

“Don’t say that around a divorcé like me,” one of the bow knights muttered under his breath. He downed the rest of the dark ale in his glass in a single gulp.

“Milo, do you still have feelings for your ex-wife? If not, have you thought about remarrying?”

It was said that for the Beast Hunters, getting married was difficult and getting divorced all too easy. Though some knights had stopped attending these bachelor banquets, others left only to return after their relationships ended.

“No, I don’t think the married life suits me. It’s impossible for me to give a woman peace of mind. Every time I went on expedition, my ex-wife would get these terrible stomachaches. If anything, I regret that we didn’t split up sooner.”

A low voice mingled with the knights’ conversation. “It is difficult when love is not the issue...”

Dorino pretended not to have heard that. He filled Jonas’s glass with the fuoco the server had brought.

“I’ll be coming to this party until I retire!” a bright voice rang out from the middle table. It came from one of the senior knights.

“What’s wrong with being single, anyway? It’s no big deal as long as you don’t have land or a household to inherit. Life’s easier that way, and you don’t have to worry about your wife and kids when you go out on expeditions. I get to see my friends and family when I get back to the city. That’s enough for me.”

“I feel the same. Plus, I get to spend my wages however I like. Nothing’s more fun for me than sitting in the barracks reading all the books I buy.”

“I get that, but...won’t you be lonely once you retire and you’re all alone?”

“What about staying single while a knight but getting married after retirement?”

Dorino could deeply relate to each of the bachelors’ divergent opinions. As for the possibility of getting married after retirement, it wasn’t easy for him to judge whether that was realistic or wishful thinking.

“But you know, if you do want to get married, you should jump in and do it when it feels right. As you get older, it starts to feel like too much effort. Keep putting it off and you might end up with no one...”

It was hard to think of what to say in response to the older knight’s words. Dorino brought his glass to his mouth.

“I see. One day it will feel like too much effort...”

That mumbled comment came from next to him. A man eating a slice of apple pie and drinking a super sweet fruit wine was nodding.

“Randolph, I don’t think you need to worry about love becoming a chore yet,” Dorino said. “You don’t have a girlfriend. You don’t visit the red-light district. Do you even have a type?”

“I won’t know until I fall in love.”

That was exactly the answer Dorino had anticipated. He gave up on trying to get anything else out of Randolph and turned to the man sitting on his other side.

“Master Jonas, what sort of women do you like?”

“...I like a strong woman.”

Jonas was about to refill his own glass with the bottle of fuoco, but Dorino snatched it away from him and poured a copious amount into Jonas’s glass. The strong scent of alcohol reached his nose.

“What do you mean by strong?” he asked.

“I like a woman who is self-reliant. Someone who does not always require my presence.”

“You’re a real catch—you ought to have no problem finding a woman like that.”

“Unfortunately, I’ve yet to find my match.”

Though he knew it was a rude question, Dorino asked, “Does your blight make it hard to date?”

Jonas looked at him and blinked once. “Perhaps... I’ve grown accustomed to it; it feels normal to me. But I suppose it does bother some people.”

“I heard there were several blighted individuals in the squad back in the day. They had sharp night vision, superior strength, and good detection abilities. I’ve destroyed several monster cores myself, but I’ve never been blighted. Are there specific conditions for it to happen?”

“Dorino,” Randolph warned him sternly.

Dorino hadn’t said anything, but his friend had likely picked up on what he was thinking: If it made him stronger, then Dorino wouldn’t mind being blighted.

“It’s said that the easiest way to become blighted is to destroy or eat the core, but compatibility also plays a role,” Jonas explained indifferently. “If one is not compatible with the monster, then both courses of action may prove fatal. For that reason, I do not recommend either.”

“Is that so? My thought was that someone with a blight has the potential to become even stronger...”

For a Beast Hunter, Dorino was not particularly strong; in fact, he was the weakest among the Scarlet Armors. He had strong water and strengthening magic for a commoner, which was why he’d decided to pursue chivalric studies in college, but he was not on the same level as those who had aspired to be knights since childhood. His inadequacy didn’t stop at swordsmanship; no matter how hard he trained, he could not surpass those with even greater physical abilities and strengthening magic than he had.

Whether or not he became blighted in the process, his greatest desire was to become stronger—but of course, nothing was that easy.

“If you are blighted, you will become unpopular with the ladies,” Jonas pointed out.

“What, really? But you seem pretty popular, Master Jonas,” Dorino blurted out thoughtlessly.

Jonas stifled a laugh, poured fuoco into a new glass, and handed it to Dorino. Randolph pushed the bowl of nuts in front of him. He sensed he was being teased.

The conversation moved on to weapons, monsters, and the armored crab and treasurefish they’d had during the expedition they went on together. Jonas was knowledgeable even about foreign weapons, and one of the knights sitting at another table moved to theirs to ask him some questions.

The afterparty continued with everyone in lively spirits as bottle after bottle was ordered.

“If you will excuse me, I must take my leave now. Thank you for inviting me to this entertaining event,” Jonas said.

At last, as they were nearing the end of their reservation, the long afterparty began to break up.

Dorino walked Jonas to the door to see him off. Although the man had polished off two entire bottles of fuoco, he didn’t appear drunk in the slightest. He had finished four thick steaks, so the drinking party had been more of a dinner party for him. In any case, Dorino found himself wishing for another opportunity to ask Jonas more about his preferences.

“Take care, Master Jonas. Oh, and you’re invited again next year, so please join us if you’re still single.”

For an instant, the pupil of one of Jonas’s eyes turned into a vertical slit. They were the color of dark blood and truly looked like the eyes of one possessed. But they held neither intimidation nor bloodlust. Dorino assumed the action to be a simple physiological response, so he said nothing and waited for Jonas to respond.

Jonas’s face broke into a broad smile. “Thank you. I look forward to it, Sir Dorino,” he said, then bowed and left the room.

As Dorino watched his receding figure, it hit him that Jonas had addressed him by his name. Maybe he was able to have some fun, he thought as he returned to his table. There, Randolph was pouring the meager amount of the fruit wine that remained in the bottle into his own glass.

Other than himself and Randolph, only five or six senior knights were still loitering around. Everyone was trying to sober up a little before making their way home.

“Winter festival’s tomorrow, huh? I hope the weather’s nice. For Volf’s sake.”

“And for Miss Dahlia’s,” Randolph said firmly before knocking back the few drops of wine at the bottom of his glass.

“Say, Randolph, you didn’t already find your type, did you?” Dorino said teasingly.

Randolph did not respond, and Dorino stiffened when he saw his friend drop his chestnut gaze.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have asked. Just as he was trying to think of a way to change the subject, his friend opened his mouth.

“Yes, perhaps I did, once...”

“...Past tense, huh? Well, I guess I can’t expect it to be something current.”

“A chance would be nice, though.”

“Randolph, what are you...?” Dorino started, his voice rising in pitch.

His friend let out a long exhalation. “That bread pudding was a culinary masterpiece...”

“That’s what you’re talking about?! Ugh, don’t tease me like that... Ah. You’re drunk.”

He could tell by the unfocused look in Randolph’s eyes. His friend had gone through a lot of that sweet fruit wine. Two empty bottles sat in front of him.

“Come on, Randolph. What’s your type, really?”

Randolph always dodged this question with the phrase “I won’t know until I fall in love.”

He was the second son of an earl of march. It would be normal for him to stay home as the backup to inherit the family or to marry someone of equal status. And yet he had instead chosen to endanger his life by becoming a Scarlet Armor in the Order of Beast Hunters.

Volf wasn’t the only one carrying a weight on his shoulders. Randolph was too. But Dorino wasn’t going to prod him to tell something he wasn’t willing to share on his own.

But for once, Randolph gave a real answer: “...I want a woman who’s more grounded than myself...”

Dorino poured him another glass of wine. “Someone more grounded than you—that’s a lot to ask. Anything else?”

“...I have many shortcomings, so I want a woman who will be straightforward with me. Someone smart...not in the academic sense...”

“So someone levelheaded and intelligent? What about looks?”

“...I won’t know until I fall in love.”

“Again with that line!” Dorino laughed.

He turned to look at his friend—his chestnut eyes were staring into the distance, far beyond the walls of the tavern.

“But...red hair is pretty...” Randolph said in a voice quieter than a whisper as he slumped over onto the table. Dorino couldn’t find the voice to respond to that.

Randolph sat motionless and didn’t raise his head again. He had indeed had too much to drink.

Dorino was munching quietly on some nuts when the large hand on the table seized him tightly by the arm.

“...Time makes one forget.”

Randolph muttered those few words in Ehrlichian. Dorino could just make them out—they were lyrics from a famous opera—and they stung his ears. What would Randolph forget? Red hair, or a certain someone who had red hair? Dorino didn’t want to ask.

Randolph finally released his hold on his arm, and Dorino knew, by the slow rise and fall of his wide back, that his friend had fallen asleep.

Dorino gathered all of the bottles that still had some alcohol remaining in them, set them on the table, and, with no concern about mixing his liquors, poured them all into his glass and drank it. The concoction tasted terrible, but at least it would get him drunk.

This was nothing serious. Randolph would forget this conversation by morning. And Dorino had no intention of asking him who he was thinking of who had red hair.

Neither did he intend to remember this conversation tomorrow.

When it came time to leave, Dorino enlisted the help of an older knight drinking at the same table.

Tonight, they would be carrying a sleeping Randolph back to the barracks with his arms slung across their shoulders.

“Jeez, talk about heavy,” Dorino muttered.

The Winter Festival and the Food Stall Crawl

Dahlia awoke early in the morning and checked her appearance and bag twice.

Today was the day of the winter festival, the day she and Volf would sample all the different food stalls and eat until they dropped.

The day before yesterday, she had prepared what she was going to wear: warm clothes and comfortable shoes. That was until Lucia stopped by to share some walnuts she had purchased in bulk. Dahlia had been feeling less than confident about her choices, so she’d decided to ask for her friend’s professional opinion.

“You’re going to the winter festival with Sir Volf, right? Dahlia, I’m not too sure about this outfit...”

“Is it bad? Since we’ll be eating from food stalls, I picked clothes that I don’t mind getting dirty and shoes that are comfortable to walk in.”

The outfit she had picked out was composed of a thick shirt underneath a dark blue round-necked sweater, thick black pants, and brown winter boots. On top of it all, she planned to wear the baphomet leather coat she had bought a while ago.

The coat was burgundy and quite fashionable, so she’d thought it would bring the rest of her outfit together, but Lucia had rejected everything except for the coat and shoes with a smile.

“Dahlia, it’s the winter festival. You should dress up a little. If you do stain your clothes, I’ll just bring them to the Tailors’ Guild to take care of it, so don’t worry about that. Most people dress nice for the winter festival. Plus, you can get some good deals if you look cute.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah, sometimes they give you a little extra, or even a surprise treat!”

Dahlia would never have thought of that. For the sake of getting the full culinary experience at the winter festival, it seemed best that she dress fashionably.

Lucia explained a few more things about the winter festival to Dahlia as she picked out an outfit for her. That was how Dahlia had come to be dressed today in a flowy pale pink sweater and a long brown culotte skirt made of soft material. The slightly oversized sweater fully concealed her waist so that even if she ate to her fill, her stomach wouldn’t poke out. The only thing she was worried about was whether the outfit would keep her warm enough.

But Lucia had told her, “You have a coat, and it won’t get that cold in the afternoon. Besides, if you do get cold, you can just stick close to Sir Volf and use him to block the wind.” An apt joke, considering how tall Volf was.

As she recalled her conversation with Lucia, Dahlia walked over to the window where the light of the morning sun was streaming in. There was still a lot of time before their planned meeting. She was all ready to leave, but it was probably too early to wait outside by the gate. But when she looked outside the window, she jumped in surprise.

“Volf?!”

The young man was wearing a black coat and holding a large ball of snow in his hands. He must have arrived a while ago and found himself with a lot of time to spare. Dahlia grabbed her bag and rushed outside.

“Oh, Dahlia! Morning!”

Volf smiled at her as he placed the ball of snow in his hands on top of another large ball of snow next to the gate. Children were jumping around him excitedly.

“Mister, that was awesome!”

“You’re so strong!”

Dahlia looked around and saw the high piles of snow along the sides of the road. She knew they were man-made by the fact that the road itself was completely clear of snow. During the winter festival, parks and roadsides were covered in snow and ice, but this was the first time she had seen so much snow in her neighborhood.

The neighborhood children as well as some adults were taking advantage of the snow by making snowmen—or snowdolls, as they were called in the Kingdom of Ordine—and sculptures of animals.

“Good morning, Volf. Um, where did all this snow come from?”

“I rode here in a carriage with my brother and a castle mage, and they said this area could use a little more snow... They did all this with just a flick of those wands.”

“Really...?”

She couldn’t imagine how the abundant snow piled on both sides of the road could have been made with the flick of a wand. Perhaps it was a simple task for powerful mages, though.

“I remembered how my brothers and I used to make snowdolls outside in the garden. Once I started making one, everyone came outside.”

Children and adults joined him in playing in the snow, going all out with their snow creations, from small snowdolls to detailed animal faces to beautiful snow pyramids.

When Dahlia took a closer look at Volf’s hands, she noticed he wasn’t wearing gloves. His hands were getting red.

“Volf, aren’t you cold? We can have tea before we go—”

“No, let’s go now. Dorino told me the food stalls in the Central District’s park open early,” Volf said as he readjusted the bag on his shoulder.

The bag looked stuffed, as if he had packed an extra sweater in there. He had also tied his pegasus feather charm to the shoulder strap.

Dahlia was also carrying a brown leather shoulder bag to keep her hands free. She wore it underneath her coat to prevent it from getting stolen. It was a bit heavy with all the copper and silver coins she had exchanged for at the Merchants’ Guild, as Lucia had instructed her to do. Most food stalls only accepted copper and silver coins, which meant all the spots where people could exchange money would be very busy.

Also, by complete coincidence, Dahlia had also tied her pegasus feather charm to the side of her bag. Though since her bag was hidden under her coat, they probably wouldn’t be mistaken for a pair.

Dahlia felt a little nervous as the two of them walked in the direction of the carriage stop.

To avoid attracting attention, they didn’t take a Scalfarotto family carriage but an omnibus bound for the Central District. Despite it being the winter festival, there were few people aboard the omnibus, perhaps due to the early hour.

“This is my first time going to the Central District for the winter festival. I’m so excited,” Volf said happily as he pushed the fairy glasses a little higher on his nose with his finger.

“Same here. Though I’ve had food from the stalls that come to the West District.”

“I heard there are Esterland food stalls down in the South District. They even sell estervino. Do you want to try going there after the Central District?”

“That sounds great!”

Not only had Dahlia skipped breakfast that morning, but she also hadn’t eaten dinner last night, so she knew her stomach would start growling any second now. She tried to endure her hunger as they descended the carriage in the Central District.

“Wow...!” Dahlia exclaimed in awe.

The park in the Central District was covered in brilliant white snow. There were hills of snow placed at various spots throughout. A few people were already here enjoying the snow. Some were making snowdolls, and some were sitting in chairs they had made out of snow.

Also, although it was still early morning, there were food stalls as far as Dahlia could see lining the main street. Not only were they located in the areas where there were always food stalls, but they extended far into the distance. Next to each was a bright flag—red, white, blue, yellow, or green—with the type of food or specialty they offered written on it, flapping in the wind.

Some stalls here and there were already open for business. The aroma of freshly baked bread and meat and fish on the grill made Dahlia’s mouth water.

“I actually didn’t eat this morning. Should we start breakfast?” Volf suggested.

“Absolutely,” Dahlia agreed with a smile, though she didn’t quite want to admit that she hadn’t eaten breakfast either.

The first stall Volf picked out was one that sold thinly sliced bread topped with porchetta. Porchetta was pig that had been deboned and gutted, stuffed with various vegetables, and roasted whole. It was a fixture of Ordine cuisine, and it was usually eaten sliced as a side dish or as bar food.

But this was the winter festival, so this was no ordinary porchetta. Behind the owner of the stall lay a very large roasted pig. It was a wild hog, and the slices of porchetta cut from it were thick as logs. Dahlia would love to know how they had roasted it whole.

“I’ll take two slices of bread with a half slice of porchetta on top of each,” Volf said.

“Thank you!”

An entire slice of the wild hog porchetta would certainly not fit on a single slice of bread.

Volf rolled up the half slice of porchetta and folded the bread down on top of it. Part of the meat overhung the bread. Dahlia took the sandwich from Volf and was surprised at just how heavy it was.

They purchased coffee from the next stall over, then walked as they ate. It was bad manners, but everyone else was doing the same. There were even people who were eating as they set up their own stalls.

The salty porchetta and freshly baked bread went perfectly together. Though the coffee was a little weak, its warmth was very welcome.

“We had porchetta the first time we came to the park here, didn’t we?” Volf said.

“We did—and wheat beer and crespelles.”

That had been early summer—not even a year had passed since then, but the memory felt like it had happened ages ago. Though perhaps that wasn’t so strange, considering the hectic year she’d had.

“I’m thinking crespelles are essential today too,” Dahlia said.

“Yeah, I have to agree.”

Dahlia walked as she savored the last third of her sandwich. Suddenly, she recalled her friend’s earlier advice.

“Lucia told me that if we want to try lots of different foods, we should split one portion between us.”

“That makes sense. That way we can eat more types of foods. Oh, that looks like just the thing.”

Volf stopped in front of a stall. A white sheep’s face was drawn on the red flag next to it. The stall owner wore a glossy black leather coat and was turning skewers of mutton over coals rather than fire crystals. Dahlia wondered if he was from Ehrlichia.

He whistled a peculiar tune over the sizzling sound of the grilling meat. Thin strips of mutton were wrapped around the long wooden skewers. There were red ones and green ones, and both were smothered in spices.

“We’ll take a red and a green one,” Volf requested, and he ended up paying for this stall too. Dahlia swore to herself to buy their drinks next.

Volf handed her a steaming green skewer. “Here, Dahlia. Let’s swap once we eat half.”

“Got it.”

Dahlia started from the top, biting carefully into the meat. It tasted like it had been seasoned with salt, pepper, and herbs. The meat itself was lean and a bit tough, but the taste and texture were similar to crunchy bacon. The aroma of the herbs also complemented it well.

Once she ate half the skewer, she looked at Volf. He was staring at his red skewer.

“Volf, this one’s nice and salty, and it has a good flavor.”

“This one’s tasty too, but I think it might be too spicy for you,” Volf warned. The corners of his mouth were red, and he gave her a worried look as they swapped skewers.

Dahlia took one bite of the meat, dyed red by the spices, and immediately understood what Volf meant. There was the initial hit of the strong chili peppers and the scent of sesame seeds. It tasted good, but it was very spicy indeed.

“Dahlia, you don’t have to finish it if you don’t want to.”

“I’m sorry, but can you eat the rest? It’s good, but it’s even spicier than I expected...”

She handed the skewer to Volf. There was a stall just up ahead that sold alcohol, so she bought two red ales. Volf started to open his bag to pay, but Dahlia managed to beat him to the punch.

They toasted their wooden cups. The red ale tasted refreshing as it went down.

They continued to walk around to more stalls as they drank. They had three different kinds of crespelles, filled with sautéed meat, vegetables, and seafood, respectively. Each came with its own unique sauces, and Dahlia was surprised at their unexpected sweetness and spiciness.

Next, they tried a dish that consisted of cabbage leaves and thin slices of pork layered together alternatingly and grilled between two iron plates. The sweetness of the cabbage and the savoriness of the pork came together to create a great flavor.

Following that, they had grilled kraken, which was considered Ordine’s specialty. Krakens were large, so unlike with grilled squid, it was impossible to tell what part of the kraken they were eating.

Unknowingly getting a part that was tough to chew could make one’s jaw hurt, and it was just her luck that Dahlia picked a piece that was hard to chew. As she was trying hard to work through it, Volf said he liked the chewy parts and offered to swap with her. She felt a little guilty as she watched him gnaw on the kraken with his white teeth.

“Think we should put on our masks now?” he asked.

Before she realized it, the area had become much more crowded. About seventy to eighty percent of the people wore winter festival masks. Over half of them looked like couples—they wore masks with red-marked cheeks.

Dahlia agreed with Volf, and the two of them donned the masks they had bought from Mena. Volf’s mask had some space underneath to allow him to continue wearing his glasses. Dahlia was impressed by Mena’s thoughtfulness.

“So,” Volf began, “my family’s knights warned me that it’ll be hard to find each other if we get separated here.”

“Yeah, there are so many people, and it’s only going to get more crowded.”

The number of festival-goers in the Central District would increase every time an omnibus arrived, so this area was bound to become heavily crowded by the afternoon.

“I’m sorry to ask you to do this, but, uh...can you hold on to my sleeve so we don’t lose each other?” Volf asked.

“Oh, sure!”

And so, as she had done while walking in crowded places before, Dahlia held on to Volf’s sleeve. But there was one problem: The coat Volf wore today was made of sleek black leather, so it was a little slippery.

Also, when she grabbed hold of his sleeve again, ale in hand, a female stall owner smiled at her and said, “Ah, to be young again.” Another stall owner nodded in agreement. Wait, it’s not like that, she wanted to say, but it would have been just as odd for her to tell them they were mistaken.

As she cringed to herself, she ate the fried sweet potato that she’d been given for free, which made her fingers oilier and slipperier. She was walking along, trying to wipe them clean as best she could with a handkerchief, when she bumped into someone in front of her and lost her balance.

To keep herself on her feet, she seized Volf’s elbow, and she felt him freeze up. She must have surprised him.

Quickly, she let go of his arm. “I’m sorry, Volf! I ran into someone...”

“No, I’m sorry for not noticing. Uh, we really shouldn’t get separated, so maybe you should put your arm through here.”

Volf faced straight ahead and held his left arm out at an angle so Dahlia could easily hold on to the crook of his elbow. In a way, his arm almost looked like the handle of a coffee mug. It seemed like a very stable thing to hold on to.

“Thank you... I’ll take your arm now...”

Dahlia felt a little awkward, but if they lost sight of each other in this sea of people, it would be very difficult to find each other again. She willingly put her arm through Volf’s. Her face felt hot with shame. She couldn’t have been happier to be wearing a winter festival mask.

Their stomachs were considerably full after eating continuously since the morning, so they decided to take a short break from eating and move to the South District. The wind had picked up a bit, but Volf actually did block it pretty well, and his arm was very warm.

They exchanged few words with each other as they walked through the crowd. The closer they came to the South District, the more families and groups they saw in addition to couples.

People bustled past them. Some were carrying large sacks filled with fish and meat on their backs, some were holding boxes of frozen seafood, and some were lugging heavy bags of what Dahlia presumed were all the many goods they had bought at the shops. It truly felt like the end of the year.

There were fewer food stalls here than in the Central District, but there were still a good many lining the sides of the road. At the sight of a flag depicting a novel ingredient, Dahlia stopped in her tracks. On the black flag swaying in front of the stall was a white turtle with a silver shell. Evidently, this food stall sold cooked turtle.

“How would you like some silver turtle soup, an Ehrlichian specialty? It’ll warm you right up.”

The smiling stall owner held up an elegant white ceramic bowl. They were supposed to eat the soup in front of the stall and then return the bowls.

“Silver turtle?”

“Is that a monster?”

Dahlia had never seen a turtle dish in Ordine. She could sense a faint amount of magic remaining in the shell, which made her think it must be a monster. But she had never read that name in a bestiary.

The stall owner noticed the confused looks on their faces and filled them in with a smile. “They are monsters with silver shells that look exactly like turtles. They use strengthening magic and water magic, and the large males will attack intruders into their territory underwater. They can easily take down even grown adults.”

“They must be hard to catch,” Dahlia commented.

If they could move fast underwater and they charged at humans, then it sounded like it would be very dangerous to capture them.

Volf moved closer to the silver shell and examined it. As a Beast Hunter, he was probably imagining what it would be like to fight it.

“They have become easier to fish thanks to the use of enchanted nets from Ordine. Now we can cast out the net and wait, then catch the large males that come for it.”

“Just the males?”

“Yes, the males are the ones who chase. It’s in their nature to protect the females. The males also eat better, so they are tastier.”

Dahlia couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for the turtles. But when she walked closer to the stall, she caught the delectable aroma rising from the big pot. She and Volf decided to try some of the soup, which contained some vegetables and finely cut meat.

“It’s really good. And it is warming me up...” Dahlia said.

“It’s weird—there’s not much salt, but it has a rich flavor...”

Volf had articulated exactly what she was thinking. The broth was very rich and had a distinctive seafood flavor. She wondered if that was from the turtle, but it was also possible that they had added seaweed to the broth. She ate the hot soup slowly, waiting for it to cool down, and felt her body warm up.

“Would you two like to try the blood?” the vendor offered.

“Did you say blood?” Dahlia asked.

“They say if you drink a small dish of silver turtle blood, you won’t catch a cold for a whole month.”

It sounded like an attractive offer, given how pervasive colds were this time of year. But for Dahlia, drinking turtle blood was too foreign a concept to accept readily.

Volf was intrigued. “No colds for a month...?”

“Are you going to try it, Volf?”

“Young man, I’ve heard that serpents are popular here in the capital, but if it’s stamina you want, our silver turtle is second to none! What do you say?” the stall owner pressed with a smile.

Volf’s hand shot out in refusal. “No! I’ll pass.”

Unsurprisingly, Volf had second thoughts about ingesting turtle blood.

They gave their bowls back to the stall owner and headed for the next stall.

Volf’s eyes sparkled at the sight of a stall just ahead. “Oh! Fried balloon fish!”

Balloon fish were similar to the puffer fish of Dahlia’s previous world. Due to their being highly poisonous, people had to wear antidote bracelets or rings when eating them. The magical tools in Ordine might have actually developed in response to the kingdom’s gluttony—that is, its food culture.

“Two salted ones, please,” Volf said.

“Thanks for your business!” the stall owner said appreciatively. “Do you have antidotes? I can lend you a bracelet if you need.”

“No, I’m all right,” Dahlia replied.

“I’ve removed the parts with the strong poison, but still, be careful.”

The golden-brown fish was speared on the wooden skewer and sprinkled with salt. Dahlia could still hear the sound of the sizzling oil. She blew on the fish to cool it down, then finally took a bite from the end.

Beneath the crunchy coating, she reached the steaming hot middle, which filled her mouth with the fresh taste of the white fish. The skewer was salted to perfection and the oil didn’t make it overly greasy.

“It’s delicious!” Dahlia said approvingly, and at that instant, she felt her ring and bracelet heat up slightly. Her stomach roiled for a moment, then she felt the sensation of a cool breeze run over her entire body.

“There’s still a good bit of poison in here,” Volf observed conversationally as he chewed.

This experience wasn’t a first for Dahlia either. She had eaten colorful mushrooms, balloon fish, and thornfish with her father. The sensation of the antidote working now was the same as it had been back then, though she still wasn’t quite used to it.

“I have a deep respect for the magical toolmaker who developed antivenom tools,” Volf said.

“Me too...”

“To express my respect, I think I’ll order another in a different flavor. Do you want one too, Dahlia?”

“Yes, I’ll take another one too.”

The next skewer, seasoned with mountain pepper and soy sauce, was like a burst of flavor in her mouth. This one still held a bit of poison too, but it was just as tasty as the last.

With their stomachs satisfied, they set off once again and found a stall selling alcohol from Esterland. Volf ordered a warmed dry estervino, and Dahlia chose a hot, medium-dry estervino.

Like the soup, the drinks were served in white ceramic cups. With the large drinking cups in hand, they sat down in the simple chairs set up next to the stall. The chairs had no backs, but it felt great to take a break from all the walking they had done.

Dahlia looked around as the estervino warmed her throat and guessed that it was nearing the busiest time of the festival. The crowd was even denser than before.

The winter festival would continue until late into the night. According to Lucia, many people met up to arrive at the festival after afternoon tea or in the evening if they had to work. Unfortunately, she and Volf would have to leave before evening fell.

“Should we look for a dessert now?”

“Yeah...”

Despite her agreement, Volf rocked his empty drink cup and sighed. He was going to have to be on duty at the castle after all this eating and drinking. He was probably feeling tired and sluggish.

“Volf, are you tired? Do you want to stop?”

“No, I’m fine. I’m not tired or anything. It’s just, well, it feels like the festival went by so fast...” Volf said disappointedly.

Dahlia understood how he felt. They had consumed all sorts of food and drink, but there was so much they still hadn’t tried yet.

“Why don’t we come back next year? Oh, and there’s also the summer festival!” Dahlia said. She wanted to cheer him up, but the next summer and winter festivals were a long ways away.

Still, Volf smiled and nodded, then poked his mask.

“Yeah, we should. We have these masks now, after all. Maybe we can come first thing in the morning next time...”

It sounded like they would be attending the next festival even earlier than they had this morning. Dahlia didn’t mind the idea at all.

“Oh look, there’s a honey stall,” she pointed out.

Once they started walking again, Dahlia spotted an orange flag with a honeybee and hive drawn on it. The word bee was also written in both the languages of Esterland and Ordine.

“Volf, would you eat honey?”

“Sure, I should be able to handle that. Randolph has been training me to eat sweets lately.”

It wasn’t just monsters that Randolph was an expert on but honey and jam as well. He was probably starting Volf off with some of the less sweet varieties.

While she was thinking about that, Volf once again swooped in and paid before she could.

“It’s comb honey, not regular honey, but here,” Volf said as he handed her a thin wooden board that held not a jar of honey but a honeycomb. The pale golden honeycomb was cut into a small square and packed with honey.

Dahlia used the wooden spoon that came with it to scoop out a tiny bit of the honey. When she took a bite, the sweetness melted in her mouth.

She looked at Volf to see how he liked it and saw that his wooden board was already empty. He chewed intently for a bit and then swallowed.

He noticed her staring at him and said, a bit sheepishly, “Randolph told me that small comb honey should be eaten in one bite. That way, you get all the flavors at once.”

“Really...?”

That must have been the correct way to eat it, then. The honeycomb seemed a little too big to Dahlia, but she decided to just go for it and popped the whole thing into her mouth. Sweet—there was the simple flavor of the honey along with a light floral fragrance. Even the comb part was like eating unsweet thin pie crust, so it didn’t feel out of place. It left a bit of a beeswax aftertaste, but even that just became a nice accent when eaten together with everything else.

I see. I wouldn’t have gotten these rich flavors if I ate it separately.

“Oh, you two look like you know your honey. Can I interest you in this candied delicacy?”

The stall owner whipped out a glass jar that contained dark brown grains.

“Is that boiled honeycomb?” Dahlia asked.

“Not quite. These are bee larvae. They’re said to make your skin dewy and smooth. All the noble ladies are buying them.”

“...My stomach is full, so maybe next time,” Dahlia answered after some hesitation. It sounded tempting, but she didn’t think she could bring herself to stomach that.

The stall owner turned to Volf. “What about you, young man? It works on hair too, and a gentleman should have a lustrous head of hair!”

Volf briefly ran a hand through his black hair, then coughed and declined. Candied bee larvae were just a little too outside of his comfort zone.

And with that, they concluded their dessert and their time at the festival.

There really were a lot of people attending the festival. It took a surprising amount of time to get from the South District to the carriage stop in the Central District. Dahlia and Volf had originally planned to stay together until the carriage bound for the West District arrived, but doing so would make Volf late in getting back to the castle, so instead, they decided to say their goodbyes now.

“Sorry, Dahlia. I wish we didn’t have to rush...”

“It’s okay. Thanks for spending the entire morning and afternoon with me.”

Although they were ending things a bit early, they had still spent a good part of the day sampling the different food stalls together. She’d had a lot of fun, and though it was disappointing that Volf had to leave, work was work.

“I’ll be on duty until the third, so can I bring by some wine after then?”

“Yes, I would like that.”

A noblewoman saw off a knight heading off for duty with “May you have good fortune in battle.”

But something kept Dahlia back from saying those words. Instead, she said, “Volf, please take care.”

“Thanks.”

Volf removed his mask, smiled at her, and then turned around. His legs would carry him quickly to the castle, where he would stay on call in the Order of Beast Hunters’ wing. If monsters appeared, he would don his Scarlet Armor and head into battle with his comrades. That was his duty as a Beast Hunter.

Even though they had been together since the morning and had a fun time, Dahlia found herself wanting to spend just a little more time together. Of course, she didn’t share such a silly thought aloud.

The sun was about to set, which might have explained the sudden chill from the wind she felt. She clenched her right hand tightly.

As she quietly watched Volf’s receding back, he suddenly turned around. He raised his arm up high and waved at her. Then he took off his glasses to reveal his golden eyes.

“Goodbye, Dahlia!”

His voice sounded remarkably similar to when he had said goodbye to her at the castle gates on the first day they had met. Except this time, he called her Dahlia, not Dali. But things were completely different now. This time, she knew they would be meeting again.

Dahlia waved back at him, and with a big smile on her face, she called back, “I’ll be waiting for you, Volf!”

New Year’s Day

Far above the walls of the capital, the dark blue sky turned red as the sun began to rise.

Dahlia was alone on the rooftop of the Green Tower, gazing up at the sky. It was the first sunrise of the year, but there were hardly any people on the road below her.

There was no custom in Ordine of watching the first sunrise of the new year to make a wish. When her father was alive, he had watched it with her several times, but over the last few years, she had chosen sleep over watching the sunrise.

Yesterday, after she and Volf went their separate ways at the carriage stop, she stood waiting for an omnibus when a coachman from the Scalfarotto family called out to her.

“I have a package to deliver to the West District, so hop in and I’ll take you there,” he told her, but even Dahlia knew his offer was for her protection. She thanked him and boarded the carriage.

Later, when she realized that the coachman must have been watching her and Volf’s interactions during the entire time they were at the winter festival, she wanted to dig a hole and bury herself in it.

Once she was back at the tower, she took a long bath and reflected on the day, then went to bed early. She woke up before dawn, put on her wyvern coat, and walked up to the roof.

She had a memory of going to the beach with her parents to see the first sunrise in her past life. Their faces were blurry, and she couldn’t remember the name they had called her. The memory was as dim as a dream, but what she did remember was the red of the rising sun, the cold air against her cheek, and the warmth of her parents’ hands.

In that life, she had been too absorbed in her job and died of overwork. She knew she must have brought her parents deep sadness. If only she could tell them that she was living a happy, healthy life in this world.

What was she doing thinking about things she could do nothing about in the face of this bright new year? Dahlia took a deep breath and changed the direction of her thoughts.

She had decided to live a life she wanted in this world with her head held high. And she was here now watching the first sunrise of the year. There were so many things she wanted to wish for.

While she was truly grateful that her company had found success selling magical tools, she wished that the coming year gave her fewer stomach pains.

She wished to be able to create magical tools that were helpful to people. To improve her skills as a magical toolmaker.

She wished to not put too much of a burden on Ivano and her employees.

She wished for Irma and Marcella’s children to be born safely and grow up healthy and strong.

She wished for the Order of Beast Hunters’ safety should a wyvern or other monster appear.

She wished for Volf to return safely from his missions, so they could spend more fun moments together.

When she had finished praying silently to herself, the red sun rose to reveal itself in the sky. In an instant, the capital was bathed in its bright light.

“May this year bring peace and happiness.”

“Happy New Year! Let’s make this a great year!”

“Happy New Year! And good morning!”

“May we all have a fruitful year! I’m going to find myself a bride this year for sure! Or at least a girlfriend!”

“I hope Miss Maid and I can be together...”

“Hey, we’re gonna need more details on that! Ah, Happy New Year!”

The mess hall of the castle barracks was filled with the lively sounds of numerous knights wishing each other a happy new year. Volf returned greetings left and right as he took a tray of breakfast foods and walked toward the table where his friends sat.

“Yo, Volf! Happy New Year!” Dorino greeted him. “How’d the winter festival go?”

“Happy New Year. We ate all kinds of foods from the stalls in the South District and other vendors I heard about.”

“That’s great!” Dorino said with a carefree smile.

“Oh, Randolph, we also stopped by that comb honey stall in the South District that you mentioned.”

“Oh? What did you think?”

“It was sweet, but I liked it. I suggested Dahlia eat hers in one bite too, and she said she enjoyed it...”

Randolph stopped moving the hand he was using to spread jam on his toast, then he looked straight at Volf.

“You cut it into small pieces for her before you gave it to her, right?”

“No, it was already small. Like a quarter of the size of this piece of toast.”

“That’s large for a woman, Volf.”

Randolph’s comment made Volf think back on Dahlia eating the comb honey. It didn’t seem like she’d had trouble with it. He was then reminded of one more thing.

“Oh, that stall also had candied bee larvae. I didn’t eat it, but the stall owner said it’s good for your hair and makes your skin smooth.”

“Yes, bee larvae can be used as a cosmetic treatment. But it’s also good for hair? I saw it in a shop in the Central District...”

Randolph brushed a hand across the side of his head, then bit into his toast before the jam dripped off it.

He must have been concerned about his hair. Volf decided to ask him about the effectiveness of the bee larvae sometime later.

“What else did you eat, Volf?” Dorino asked.

“Let’s see, we had porchetta, crespelles, and mutton skewers... And grilled kraken, fried balloon fish, and...”

“You two must have bottomless pits for stomachs...” Dorino said with a dry laugh as he ate his omelet.

Volf and Dahlia had skipped dinner and breakfast and they had been walking around since morning. The amount of food they’d eaten was reasonable. Though it was true that he hadn’t needed to eat dinner last night.

“We’re here until the third, but are you going to take a temporary leave to see your families or any relatives this year?”

“I only need to go home for dinner tonight. We have a family dinner party.”

Volf was from an earldom, and it was mandatory for the family to gather for dinner on New Year’s Day. But every year, the dinner was a formal affair with little conversation.

Volf’s third oldest brother, Eraldo, would not be returning from the kingdom’s border, and Volf himself was only going to attend dinner and would be immediately returning to the castle afterward. Although, he did hope that he and his father might be able to start talking again this year, just like he was able to restore contact with his elder brother Guido last year.

“You don’t have a family dinner or something like that to go to, Randolph?”

“I have been invited to go, but I am not close to my relatives who live in the capital. They only invited me to be polite, so I declined. What about you, Dorino? Are you not going home to wish a Happy New Year to your family?”

“Hell no. You know my folks own a diner in the lower city. You try going back around this time. All that’s waiting for me there is being put to work peeling vegetables and stirring soups. Plus, since I’m young and single, I’m expected to give my nieces and nephews money. Makes no sense, if you ask me...” Dorino complained wearily.

Volf had to agree that that didn’t sound like a break at all, but he also knew how much Dorino adored his nieces and nephews. Volf had accompanied him many times to buy a book or stuffed animal for their birthdays.

“What do you say we take a quick break after breakfast, then put on our armor and spar a bit?” Dorino proposed.

“I like the sound of that. It’s a new year, so we should start things off on the right foot—”

Before Volf could finish, he heard a commotion around the entrance of the mess hall. When he turned to look, he found himself frozen, either from the fact that the figure he saw was clad in the armor of a Beast Hunter, or because he had sensed the wearer’s boundless, cheerful energy.

“Happy New Year, everyone! I look forward to your support again this year!”

Leading the charge into the room was an elderly man with gray hair and a gray beard. At least, he had the body of an elderly man, but his reddish-brown almond-shaped eyes blazed with a light that seemed to suggest he had cast his old age aside.

“Lord Bernigi?!” several voices cried out.

Their shock was understandable. It was unheard of that a former marquis would come to the barracks on the first day of the year. Volf had to wonder if he was skipping out on any New Year’s festivities or dinner parties held by his family.

“We new recruits lack ability!”

“We come seeking training from our seniors!”

Two more armor-clad knights strode into the mess hall behind Bernigi. One was Goffredo, a burly middle-aged knight with a light turquoise prosthetic arm. The other was Leonzio, a tall knight with one eye and a blue prosthetic arm.

It was hard—impossible, in fact—for Volf to think of any one of them as a “new recruit.” Bernigi was good at feints, and it was difficult to read the movement of his sword. Goffredo was ambidextrous and wielded very heavy broadswords. Leonzio wielded his lance so that it moved as smoothly as a snake.

No matter how one thought about it, Volf and the other knights weren’t going to train anyone. If anything, they were going to be the ones to be trained.

“Cripes! This year’s already getting off to a bone-breaking start...” Dorino muttered. Volf nodded reflexively.

“Oh, why, aren’t those the Scarlet Armors over there?!” a voice cried out excitedly.

A bad feeling formed in Volf’s gut and he averted his gaze. Next to him, Dorino was trying to make himself as small as possible, but Volf feared it was too late for that. Across the table, Randolph sighed and added more sugar to his tea.

Bernigi walked briskly over to them, smiled broadly, and said, “Come now, what’s a broken bone or two for your darling juniors?”

Winter Sleepwear and the Pillow Squirrel

On the first day of the new year, Dahlia took out the spellbook Uros had loaned her, and stayed up all night transcribing it. The method for shortening magical circuits was very complex, and she found herself absorbed in reading about it.

Just past noon the next day, Lucia came bearing snacks. The two of them had tea and chatted leisurely about the winter festival and work.

Before leaving, Lucia placed a bag on the table and said, “Here are some samples of the winter sleepwear we talked about!”

And now, today was the third. After Dahlia finished copying the spellbook, she went down to her workshop to practice channeling magic through a hole in a plate of metal coated in sealsilver. This was a basic exercise for magic control that her father had taught her. She still kept up with it now whether she was busy with work or not.

A stream of magic thinner than a strand of hair passed straight through the small hole, but although she succeeded in slightly bending the magic on the other side, she wasn’t able to split it in two. Her father had been able to make his magic branch in all directions, but it seemed that was still far beyond her capabilities.

Just the other day in this workshop, Dahlia had witnessed the enchantments of Leone, the guildmaster of the Merchants’ Guild, and Oswald, the chairman of the Zola Company. She had also had the opportunity to see the magical toolmakers in the Royal Magical Toolmaking Department at work last year.

The experiences had left her feeling disappointed in her own weak magic. She had been made all too aware of her own amateur technique.

Having said that, the way to improve was not simply to aimlessly practice magic control. Once, she had asked her father how he controlled his magic so well, and he had responded, “Awareness, time, and creativity.” Dahlia knew she had a long way to go in all three respects.

She wiped the sweat off her brow, then put away the sheet of metal. On top of the workbench were her red work gloves and mythril tools enchanted with hardening. Uros had given her the gloves, while the company had purchased the mythril tools to match those owned by Fermo, an experienced craftsman.

Just looking at the items instilled Dahlia with courage, but she couldn’t help but wish she could have shown them to her father.

“Ah, it’s already evening...”

The sky outside the window had already turned a deep blue. She hadn’t noticed until now, due to the light of the magical lantern next to her.

Today was Volf’s last day at the castle, and he would finally get a holiday starting tomorrow. Just as she was thinking about marinating some meat in preparation, there was a knock at the door.

“Good evening, Dahlia,” Volf called out from behind the closed door.

“Wha— Volf?!”

He had said his break started tomorrow. She hadn’t been expecting anyone else to visit her today. She hadn’t even expected any package deliveries on account of the New Year holiday. Consequently, she hadn’t put on any makeup, her hair was tied back in a simple ponytail, and she was wearing the test sleepwear Lucia had made.

In other words, she looked like she had just woken up. She probably should put herself together before opening the front door, but she didn’t want to keep Volf waiting in the cold.

While she was panicking, Volf said sheepishly, “Sorry. I just came by to bring some food. If it’s not a good time, I can just leave it here and head back. I’ll see you tomorrow—”

“No, now’s fine!” Dahlia cried as she flung the door open without thinking.

Volf was holding a large cloth-wrapped package. His eyes widened at the suddenly opened door, and when he looked at her, his eyes opened even wider.

“Um, Dahlia...is that...a new fashion trend?” he asked in bewilderment as she ushered him inside.

“Lucia made them. They’re a test piece for warm winter sleepwear. I’m wearing a portable warm air circulator on my back.”

The sleepwear was a loose-fitting, one-piece garment made of a thick, blanketlike material, comfy enough ready to be worn straight to bed. There were buttons at the neck, cuffs, and ankles to be fastened or left open.

When she wore it with a portable warm air circulator underneath, it kept a nice, warm breeze blowing around her body that kept her warm in a cold room. Dahlia appreciated it immensely. It made moving around the tower incredibly convenient.

“Uh-huh... It looks very warm...”

It was in fact very warm and cozy. Lucia had made the sleepwear using the warmest blanket she had, which was a light camel color.

The shape of the sleepwear didn’t impede her walking at all, but the dolman sleeves were very roomy and loose from her shoulders to her wrists. The bottom half was also quite roomy, so the overall silhouette was not one that was typically seen in an article of clothing.

“Volf, give me your honest opinion. How do I look?” Dahlia asked, purposely spreading her arms out.

He answered honestly. “You look like a pillow squirrel... Sorry! I don’t mean you look like a squirrel, just the pajamas!”

“It’s all right. I thought the same thing.”

Pillow squirrels were animals that resembled the flying squirrels of Dahlia’s previous world. Like flying squirrels, they had a patagium connecting their forelimbs to their hind legs that allowed them to glide in midair. They looked like pillows when airborne, hence their name.

Dahlia grabbed a bag from the shelf and placed it on top of the table. “Lucia gave me an extra one, so try it on and tell me what you think! This one was made in a tall adult man’s size. It’s nice and warm!”

“Th-Thanks...”

Dahlia set aside her anxieties about her current appearance being the first Volf had seen of her this year. What she was doing right now was testing a possible good use for the portable warm air circulator. If she could drag Volf into the same situation as her—that is, also have him try on the sleepwear—then this would stop being an embarrassing situation.

Dahlia pulled the pajamas out of the bag and handed them to Volf. He put them on without any objections. Lucia had simply said these were for a tall adult man, but there was no denying they were exactly Volf’s size.

Volf took off his black coat and put the camel-colored sleepwear over his shirt. Dahlia had expected him to look as much like a flying squirrel as she did, but after he fixed the neckhole with his fingers, he actually looked good in them. There is no justice in this world.

“I think I like this better than the wearable sleeping bags we use on expeditions...” Volf said as he ran his hands over the sleepwear.

When the Order of Beast Hunters went on expeditions during cold weather, they wore blankets that allowed them to walk around with their legs and arms free, but they were a bit stiff and weren’t always warm enough.

That was how Dahlia came up with the idea for a “wearable blanket” that would be easier to move around in. When she asked Lucia if she knew of a type of bedding or nightclothes that were not restricting, her friend had created a piece that exceeded Dahlia’s expectations.

The sleepwear was made of a thick material, but it was so comfortable that it barely felt like she was wearing it—the mages of the Magical Garment Factory had enchanted it with weight-reduction magic. It also came with belts for the waist and shoulders to further improve mobility, though Dahlia hadn’t put those on, preferring to prioritize the circulation of the warm air.

Volf was thinking aloud. “It’s comfortable to walk around in, and I can sleep in it. I could sleep on my side, or... Oh! Or maybe I could move the portable warm air circulator from the back to my chest...”

“You’ll have to lower the temperature when you sleep so you don’t burn yourself.”

“Ah, gotcha. These would be great for winter expeditions! Although, since we’ll be outdoors, we might need something with more durable material... Ah, when are these going on the market?”

“I’ll have to ask Lucia, but she did say that they don’t take very long to make.”

Dahlia had asked Lucia if the sleepwear had been difficult to make, but her friend had assured her with a smile that it had taken less time than making a dress or a suit, and that she had sewn them in her free time. She’d said it with all the confidence befitting the head manager of the Magical Garment Factory.

“Oh, really? Then is it all right if I ask the captain if we could order some for ourselves?”

“Of course. I’m sure Lucia will be thrilled,” Dahlia said, imagining her friend’s bright smile.

Two days from now, a messenger from the Order of Beast Hunters would arrive at the Magical Garment Factory. Lucia Fano, the head manager of said factory, would thank the messenger with a professional smile on her face and accept to undertake the request. Shortly after, the name of one red-haired magical toolmaker would be shrieked in the factory workrooms, but that was something that would stay within the walls of the factory.

Volf said he had no plans for the rest of the day, so he and Dahlia walked up to the second floor. She turned on the heated low table and heater in the living room, but they would take some time to heat up the room, so the two of them kept the sleepwear on.

Volf had brought wine from Guido and a box of food. It seemed to be one specifically for celebrating the New Year—it was packed with thick grilled meat, fried fish, and steamed vegetables.

Dahlia warmed up some duck-and-vegetable soup she had made earlier, while Volf laid out the glasses and silverware.

“Happy New Year, again,” Volf said.

“Happy New Year. Congratulations on being done with your duty at the castle.”

“What’d you do over the holiday?”

“I read through that spellbook, had tea with Lucia...and just sort of relaxed at home. Did you do a lot of training while at the castle?”

“Yeah. We trained constantly with Lord Bernigi and the other returned veteran knights from New Year’s Day onward.”

“Huh? Did they also have to stay at the castle as new recruits?”

“No, they came every day after breakfast. Since Lord Bernigi is a former marquis, I assumed he would have to stay home to receive the New Year’s greetings and attend dinner parties, but...”

That’s Lord Bernigi for you. The man clearly prioritized his position as an apprentice knight of the Order of Beast Hunters over being a former marquis. There were, however, a few points that concerned Dahlia. Was it all right for him to neglect his family like that? Wouldn’t they get upset? And was he causing trouble for the squad?

“They did basic training with us too. Of course, we beat them in the number of push-ups we did and endurance running, but I don’t think for a second that I’ll be able to move as well as Lord Bernigi does when I get to be his age...”

It was a mystery how the retired knights—now the new recruits—were so spry.

Did the other knights in the squad feel a sense of competition with them because they did not want to lose to knights so much older than them, or because they did not want to lose to apprentice knights? In either case, it sounded like a very stressful situation.

“Was it nerve-racking to train with Lord Bernigi and the other veterans?” Dahlia asked.

After a few moments of silence, Volf turned to her with a placid smile. “Dahlia, imagine Oswald and Mr. Leone calling themselves your juniors and cheerfully coming over to the tower to learn how to make magical tools from you.”

“Absolutely not!” she said vehemently.

Volf couldn’t have spelled it out more clearly. Dahlia knew she would refuse such a situation with all her might.

“Honestly, at first I felt like it would be awkward, so I almost didn’t want to. But as soon as we started sparring, I realized that wasn’t the problem at all.”

“Are they fierce fighters?”

“I fought against Lord Bernigi one-on-one, and Randolph and Dorino fought against two others, and to be honest, it wasn’t much different from fighting a monster...”

Dahlia’s imagination ran away from her, and she squeaked out, “S-Sounds dangerous...”

“We were using training swords and there were priests around, so we were fine. But Lord Bernigi and the others fought us by going straight for our weak points. Dorino shouted at them sarcastically that they were being ‘too nice.’ But it made me think—that’s the way you have to fight if you want to survive against a monster.”

One did not have to be nice to a monster, and Dahlia wanted all the knights to survive their battles. But she also thought that perhaps that wasn’t the best thing to say right now.

“So, you ended up learning from the older knights instead?”

“We who wear the scarlet armor also have our pride...”

Volf’s sudden serious tone and expression spoke volumes. Dahlia was certain that their bouts had been intense.

With trepidation, she asked, “Um, did anyone get hurt...?”

“Lord Bernigi and the others said they were fine, but we took them to the infirmary to get checked out. It turned out they didn’t have any serious injuries, but they should have had some bone fractures or bruises and sprains at the very least...”

Dahlia wished he wouldn’t speak of something so dreadful as if he wished it were true. She decided to redirect the conversation with another question.

“Did the rest of you get hurt?”

“Just a little. I hurt my knee, Randolph sprained an elbow, and Dorino pulled a tendon in his leg. Oh, but no one broke a bone!”

Why did he emphasize no broken bones? They all still got hurt.

“Did you make sure to get your injuries treated?”

“Yeah. It would have been obvious when we went to the infirmary that we were hurt, so a senior knight called over a mage who can use healing magic for us. We were completely healed.”

When she heard that, Dahlia at last felt relief. She opened the jubako-like tiered box of food on the living room heated low table, and Volf opened the bottle of red wine. Then, they made a toast to a promising New Year.

“It’s neat that this wine is called Morning Sun,” Volf said.

“Yes, it’s perfect for the New Year,” Dahlia agreed.

The wine was a thank-you gift from Guido for the magical sword and wand. It was a young wine, clear, bright red in color. It was acidic but not overly astringent, making it a great complement to the rich flavors of the tiered food box.

“When I went home for New Year’s Day, we drank this same wine,” Volf said.

He had gone to the Scalfarotto family’s main residence to have dinner on the first day of the new year. He had told her that every year he spoke very little at these dinner parties, but now that he had restored his relationship with Guido, she hoped he had been able to talk a little more. She nodded in response as she chewed on a bite of fried fish.

“I talked with Guido, and his daughter Gloria is old enough to join us at the table now... We mostly talked about her, really. The dinner was a lot livelier than last year.”

“That’s great.”

“Yeah. And...I even talked to my father. After dinner, he, Guido, and I had a drink together. Every other year, he would just ask how I was doing and I’d respond that I was fine, and that would be the end of the conversation. But since Lord Uros told me that story about my father, I started off by asking him, ‘Father, when you were a student, did you blow a large hole in the wall of the school?’”

“Volf, was that really how you started the conversation...?”

That was just too blunt. How could he start off the first real conversation he’d had with his father in a long time with a question about a not-so-proud moment from his youth?

“I was so nervous, I didn’t know what else to say. But he laughed awkwardly and said, ‘It wasn’t that large of a hole.’ Guido spit out his drink, though, so that wasn’t ideal. But then we both asked father more questions about when he was younger.”

That was an unfortunate mishap for Guido, but at least it sounded like they were able to continue a normal conversation afterward.

“When my father was a student, he was helping his family with their work on water crystals, so he wasn’t part of any clubs or groups. He said his only downtime was when his friends would occasionally invite him to their clubs to have tea.”

“It sounds like he was a busy student.”

“Yeah. He also mentioned that around the time the family was promoted to an earldom, they received a lot of public criticism. He said it wasn’t anything serious, but he was worried about how Guido’s promotion would affect Gloria. She’s a young girl, so it might be hard on her.”

It was only natural that Volf’s father would be worried about Gloria, his darling granddaughter.

“But Guido said they could stop any criticism before it started. Father seemed to agree, so I’m sure it’ll be fine...”

“That’s very reassuring to hear.”

They were capable not only of protecting Gloria from criticism but of stopping it altogether. Surely, there would be nothing to worry about when it came to her safety.

“Father went on to say that when Guido becomes head of the family, he will be moving to the country, so I asked if there was anything I could give him as a present. He told me he wanted a blue and gold magical lantern. He’ll still be visiting the estate in the capital periodically, so he wants to leave the lantern he uses now here and bring the new one with him to the countryside.”

Dahlia was surprised to hear that Volf was getting his father a gift, and a magical lantern at that.

Volf paused to drain the rest of his glass, then continued. “He asked me if there was anything I wanted too, so I told him I wanted my mother’s sword. He then said I could have whatever I wanted of hers—her sword, armor, everything. There’s a room full of her things, but my father and brother are mages, so I guess they don’t want it around...”

“That sounds to me like he wants you to make good use of it, since you’re a knight.”

Volf’s father hadn’t said he didn’t want it. Mages rarely wore heavy armor. They prioritized conserving their energy and mobility. Therefore, it wasn’t odd to think that he wanted Volf, a knight like his mother had been, to make use of it.

“Yeah. But even though we were talking at the same table together, I got the sense there was some distance between us...”

“Volf...?”

“He didn’t look in my eyes once.”

Volf’s own eyes were averted as he said it. His golden eyes were lowered, and the light of the magical lantern cast his profile in deep shadow.

Dahlia searched desperately for the words to say in response. “Oh, um! Maybe he was just nervous?”

“Nervous? My father?”

“Since this is the first conversation you’ve had in a while, maybe he was feeling just as nervous as you. If he didn’t want to talk to you, I don’t think he would have taken the time after dinner to sit down with you.”

“Well, Guido was also there—”

“He and Lord Guido live in the same house, so they can talk anytime they want, right?”

If Volf’s father truly did not want to talk to him, then he could have made up some excuse to retire to his study or another room. He could also have just cut their conversation short.

“Now that I think about it, you’re right. I was only thinking about it negatively.”

Dahlia was relieved to see a smile return to Volf’s face. For so long, father and son hadn’t spoken at all. It would make sense for both of them to be nervous. She didn’t know for certain that she was correct, but she prayed silently that one day, Volf and his father would be able to converse with each other with a smile.

“Why don’t you try to find another chance to talk to him? The two of you—”

...can always talk as long as you’re both alive, she wanted to say, but her words caught in her throat. Dahlia would never have the chance to talk to her parents of her past life or her father from this life again.

Dahlia covered up her pause with a couple coughs, then drank the rest of her wine.

“The more often you talk to each other, the more comfortable it will become,” she finished.

“Thanks, Dahlia. I’ll try to think of reasons to ask my father to talk.” Volf refilled both of their glasses with red wine, then smiled brightly. “Could I commission you to make the magical lantern for my father?”

“Of course.”

Volf’s father wanted a blue and gold magical lantern, the colors of Guido’s and Volf’s eyes. Perhaps they were also the colors of his wives’ eyes.

This was a request coming straight from Volf, so she wanted to make a magical lantern exactly to his father’s liking.

“All right then, Volf. Could you please ask the recipient of the magical lantern about what he would like in detail?”

A Friend’s House and a Coward’s Pride

“Come on in, Dorino!”

“Uh... Thanks for having me...”

Dorino swallowed his discomfiture as he set foot into Volf’s room. They had finished their duty at the castle, and today was their second day on holiday.

Dorino had brought two flat-sided barrels of marinated mutton to the Scalfarotto family villa. He had once brought the same marinated mutton to the barracks to grill on a camp stove. Volf had liked it and asked to purchase some for his older brother and Master Jonas. Dorino had agreed without a second thought, though he’d been a little concerned that the tough meat marinated in salt and spices wouldn’t suit their aristocratic tastes.

When he had told his father, the proprietor of a restaurant, that he was bringing the mutton to a friend in the squad, his father had wordlessly given him one extra barrel.

With the barrels in his arms, Dorino arrived by carriage to the villa. He froze at the sight of it. It was a massive three-story house with pure white walls and a blue roof. He wondered how many times his family’s diner could fit in it. He found it hard to believe that something this size was considered a secondary home.

I’ll just say hello to the doorman, give the barrels of mutton to a servant, and leave. So he thought, but although the barrels were taken from his arms, he was promptly shown into the villa. As he stood inside, unsure of what to do, Volf came running over with a wide grin on his face. He showed Dorino right to his room, where they were standing now.

Dorino deeply regretted coming here in his ordinary clothes. He was comforted only by the fact that they were brand-new.

“Dorino, uh, are you fine with having coffee? Or if you’d prefer, I could get you tea or beer or whatever you like—”

“No, coffee’s good.”

On the table were two steaming mugs of coffee along with a selection of delicious-looking snacks like muffins, pudding, and crackers. There was enough here for a tea or drinking party for several people.

The reason Volf looked so excited was probably that he was waiting for Dahlia. If so, Dorino would just be in the way. He decided he shouldn’t stay long.

“Volf, is someone else coming by later? Like Dahlia?”

“No, no one else is coming. I was going to invite Randolph too, but he said he was going to look at horses at the farm today,” Volf said as he sat down across from him and offered him a cheese muffin with a smile.

Cheese muffins were a favorite of Dorino’s, and it was then that he finally realized that all the foods on the table were favorites of his, including black pepper crackers and pudding with a burnt caramel sauce.

When Dorino had told Volf what day he was bringing a barrel of mutton, Volf had told him, “Come to my house.” Dorino had taken that to mean that he should deliver it straight to the Scalfarotto family’s home himself. But that had actually been Volf’s way of inviting him over. Dorino wanted to smack himself on the head for not realizing that until now.

He relaxed his sitting posture and eagerly took a big bite of the muffin Volf offered him. It was freshly baked, not too sweet, and satisfyingly buttery and cheesy. In a word, it was delicious.

“Whoa, this muffin is so good!”

“Glad you think so! I like them too,” his friend replied with a boyish smile.

As the two of them ate their snacks, the conversation turned naturally to Bernigi and the other elderly knights. They vented all the frustrations that they didn’t feel comfortable sharing in the barracks, like wishing they hadn’t come right at the start of the new year, complaining about how underhanded their attacks were, and wanting to tell them they should give their old bones a break.

Incidentally, those veteran recruits were also being made to take a holiday. Captain Grato, who returned on the fourth, had told them, “Resting your body is also part of your job. If you really want to do work for the squad, then help out with the paperwork.” It worked well—the old knights used their bad eyesight as an excuse to return home at once.

During a lull in their conversation, Dorino glanced casually around the room. It was a fairly spacious room, with an expensive-looking table and chairs. Farther back, there seemed to be an area for studying, with a desk and a chair next to a luxurious bookcase.

“I guess you do study, huh? Bestiaries, Ehrlichian language dictionaries, and history books...” Dorino said, his eyes drawn to the display shelf at the very top, which held a row of thick, ornate books.

The bottom shelves of the bookcase were closed behind cabinet doors. Dorino’s interest was suddenly piqued. What sorts of books does Volf read at home?

“What’s in that bottom cabinet of that bookshelf?”

“Oh... Um, books...”

“Yeah, I kind of figured that.”

Dorino was asking about the contents of the books, but based on how his friend averted his eyes, he could guess what they were.

“Ah, do they have...pictures?”

“H-H-How’d you know?!” Volf sputtered.

Can anyone really be so obvious? Aside from this guy, of course. Volf was worse at hiding things than a primary schooler.

“It’s written all over your face. Having a few picture books around is no big deal anyway. All right, in the name of friendship, let me see them.”

“What’s friendship got to do with that?”

“Okay then, do it out of pity for a comrade,” Dorino said with a grin.

Volf smiled reluctantly back at him as he opened the cabinet. There were three shelves full of large books, and they were all in fact picture books. After receiving Volf’s permission, Dorino leafed through a few books from each shelf. They all featured women with beautiful, shapely legs.

They were nice to look at, but for someone like Dorino who preferred breasts, it was a little disappointing. But more than that, it made him a little concerned about something.

“Hey, Volf... Do you, y’know, prefer pictures over the real thing?”

“No, I don’t! About these, uh... I inherited them from someone.”

“You inherited them? Do nobles pass their picture books down generations or something?”

“No, not exactly...”

“Ah, are they a faction heirloom?”

These picture books must have belonged to generations of Scalfarottos who were on Team Behinds. It was common for family members to share similar tastes, so it was entirely possible these books had been given to Volf by his father or brother, whom he had recently reconnected with.

In any case, they were only things, and it would be tactless to pry for more details. Dorino decided to save his friend from struggling to form an answer by changing the subject.

“Can Randolph come next time we hang out here?”

“Of course! I’ll have to make sure we have plenty of desserts for him...”

“I seriously am worried about that guy getting cavities...”

As they laughed and talked together, before Dorino knew it, the sun had gone down considerably.

There was a knock at the door, and Volf called out his permission to enter. It was Jonas who opened the door.

“Lord Volf, I understand you have a guest, but will you be available this evening?”

“Master Jonas, I—”

Dorino stood and bowed to Jonas. “Hello, Master Jonas. I was just leaving. You’ve got something to do, right, Volf?” he asked, thinking that he had overstayed his welcome.

Volf’s answer was surprising. “I have plans to train with Master Jonas this evening.”

“Really...? Oh! If I wouldn’t be a bother, could I watch?” Dorino asked without thinking.

“I do not particularly mind...”

Jonas did not refuse Dorino’s request, but his rust-colored eyes slid to the side. It was only then that Dorino realized someone else was standing in the hallway.

“Welcome, Sir Barti. I see you have come to visit Volf at home.”

Dorino bowed his head deeply. “Thank you for having me here.”

Next to Jonas stood Volf’s older brother and future marquis, Guido Scalfarotto. His sudden appearance nearly gave Dorino a heart attack.

“Jonas, there should be no problem with adding one more person to our training session, should there? What do you say, Sir Barti? Care to join?”

Guido extended the invitation without waiting for Jonas’s response. His smile was composed, but his blue eyes seemed to be watching him carefully.

“It would be an honor. Thank you very much.”

Behind the Scalfarottos’ villa was an open field. It was very spacious, large enough to accommodate another addition to the house. It was there that Dorino, Volf, Jonas, and Guido gathered. In an area slightly removed from them stood a mage, whom Dorino assumed to be Guido’s bodyguard.

They had said they would be training, but Dorino was given no training sword.

“The plan for today was to do ‘intimidation training.’ Does that sound agreeable to you two?” Jonas asked.

“Yes, please!” Volf and Dorino replied together.

Dorino knew that Jonas was possessed by a fire dragon. Blighted individuals were also called cursed ones due to the theory that by defeating a monster, they were “cursed” to take in the beast’s magical power. That meant that Jonas must have defeated a fire dragon. Dorino kind of wanted to ask him about it.

Nevertheless, being the target of Jonas’s intimidation was a unique opportunity. It would likely feel similar to a dragon’s intimidation. It was definitely something that he, as a Beast Hunter, wanted to experience.

“Lord Volf, Sir Dorino, have you had intimidation used on you before?” Jonas asked.

“When we were new recruits, the captain and senior knights used it on us during training,” Volf said.

“I’ve also experienced it from a cyclops,” Dorino added.

“Did you faint or feel confused?”

“No, not particularly. But my movements became slow.”

“With the cyclops, I was frozen and unable to move,” Dorino admitted.

Jonas’s expression did not change. “That is within expectations. Lord Guido, can you use intimidation or hostility against these two?”

Guido put his hands up in front of him. “My intimidation is useless against Volf. The same goes for hostility.”

Jonas sighed. “Then I shall do it. It’s best you start getting used to it now. I will use intimidation on you, and I will not hold back much. Lord Guido, to be sure that your little brother and his dear friend do not get hurt, please stand by their side and keep them in place.”

“For their safety? But then wouldn’t your intimidation affect me as well?”

“And? I’m sure you will be just fine.”

“You are so cruel to me. Well, I suppose I have no choice. I’ll go ahead and freeze their legs first.”

Guido grimaced as he walked over to Dorino and Volf. He stood between them and then froze their legs from their knees to the ground in ice. A feeling of apprehension overwhelmed Dorino now that they were literally frozen in place.

“Um, what is this for?”

“You two are faster than me. I won’t be able to stop you if you suddenly rush at Jonas. Allow me to freeze your arms too, just in case.”

Guido grasped Volf’s left arm with his right hand and Dorino’s right arm with his left. Rather than reassuring Dorino, the surprising strength of Guido’s grip made him even more anxious.

“Until I count to one hundred, do not move from that spot. I will begin now.”

As soon as he finished speaking, the pupil of Jonas’s right eye turned into a vertical slit.

The instant Dorino saw the dark red of his pupil, so similar to the color of monster blood, he lowered his hip and bent his knee in preparation to leap forward. His body had assumed a stance automatically.

“Ugh...!”

A second later, and he was hit with a wave of magic that unsteadied his stance. A tingling pain raced across his forehead. He felt his hair stand on end and a high-pitched ringing in his ears.

Next, he felt every single hair on his body stand on end along with a suffocating sensation, as if an invisible hand were squeezing his throat. His eyes began to water as he tried with all his strength to look straight in front of him, and he felt his very core begin to tremble. Despite all that, Dorino held his ground and clenched his teeth to endure it.

There was the sound of cracking ice coming from Volf’s legs. He must have reflexively tried to step forward.

“Volf.”

The ice and Guido’s restraint had managed to keep Volf in place. Not that Dorino could spare the strength it would take to turn and look. It took everything he had just to keep facing Jonas. Dorino somehow managed to quell his trembling, but he felt his stomach acid rise to the back of his throat.

If he could have described his feelings in words, they would have been afraid, terrified, and scaredto death. But the feeling that prevailed over all else was the sense of defeat, the certainty that he could not win against this enemy. If Dorino himself had been a monster, he’d have fled with his tail between his legs. He felt powerless and weak.

Gods be damned, I haven’t gotten stronger at all.

“One hundred.”

Those one hundred seconds had felt like an eternity.

Jonas promptly stopped his intimidation, and his pupil returned to a normal round shape.

“Thank you...for the lesson...” Volf said between gasps.

He was wiping his face with his hand. Sweat dripped down his jaw.

Dorino didn’t sweat at all. Rather, he felt terribly cold. He feared he would start trembling again if he relaxed his guard. His own cowardice irritated him to no end.

“Very good,” Guido said approvingly. “You neither collapsed nor burst into tears. If we do that ten more times, I believe you will get to the point where you’ll be able to move.”

“It all comes down to practice,” Jonas added. “I recommend you find as much time as you can to increase your resistance. If you can keep pushing yourself past your limits, then you won’t faint even when facing a fire dragon.”

Guido and Jonas broke the ice away from Dorino’s and Volf’s legs. Dorino’s knees felt so weak that he nearly fell forward.

“Now, there is delicious red ale waiting for us. Why don’t the four of us sit down and relax a bit?” Guido suggested.

A future marquis he is, indeed. While Volf was sweating buckets and Dorino had only just managed to stand up straight, Guido was smiling charmingly at them.

Dorino wasn’t even sure if he could enjoy the taste of the red ale, his usual drink of choice. For an active member of the Order of Beast Hunters, he really was just a spineless coward.

“I sweated through my clothes, so I’m going to go change. How about you, Dorino? I have clothes you can borrow.”

“No, I’m all right. I didn’t sweat much at all.”

“Wow, that’s impressive. So I was the only one who got drenched with sweat...”

“Volf, you can leave Sir Barti in my care,” Guido said. “Also, the washroom next to the stable is closer. I can have a clean pair of underwear sent to you.”

Volf bristled. “I don’t need any!”

It was a challenge to keep from laughing. Dorino was also amused by the fact that even Guido was capable of this kind of teasing.

And of course, Jonas’s expression remained ever impassive.

At Guido’s urging, Volf ran toward the house. As soon as his friend was out of sight, Dorino coughed violently. His stomach acid had risen even higher and burned painfully in his throat.

“Are you all right, Sir Dorino?” Jonas asked.

“Yes, I’m fine.”

“Sir Dorino... How much stronger do you want to become?”

“Well...”

The question was sudden, but Dorino wasn’t too surprised by it. He decided this was as good a time as any to answer honestly.

“Would you laugh if I said I want to become stronger than Volf?”

Jonas said nothing. He narrowed his eyes at him, then the corners of his mouth lifted slightly. Guido studied him, then broke into a smile. I figured as much.

Although he could use strengthening magic and weak water and ice magic, his magical grade was nowhere near as high as Volf’s.

Volf was also a league above him when it came to swordsmanship. The only thing Dorino excelled over him was agility.

They had joined the Beast Hunters at the same time and they were both Scarlet Armors, but their difference in strength was painfully clear.

But he refused to sit back and accept that. He had no intention of giving up.

“I have a lot of respect for you as a knight.”

“Huh?” Dorino blurted out. That’s not what I was expecting to hear.

The speaker of those words stared straight at him with his dark blue eyes.

“Dorino, when you retire from the Order of Beast Hunters, would you like to become a knight for our family? I promise you will be treated very well.”

“I am honored to be asked. But I plan to be a Beast Hunter for as long as I can.”

Hearing Guido suddenly address him by his first name left him feeling suddenly shaken. But even if it was just simple flattery, he appreciated his words.

“Well, should you change your mind, do tell me. By the way, does Volf also intend to remain in the squad for a long time?”

“I’m not sure. Personally, I want Volf to retire early and focus his efforts on improving the conditions of the squad. In cooperation with some company or other.”

After staring at him unblinkingly for a time, Guido’s face turned dead serious.

“Won’t you think more seriously about becoming a knight for our family sooner than later, Dorino?”

“I very much appreciate your consideration, but I am still too weak and insufficient for such a role.”

Dorino still felt a chill inside him. His knees were still too shaky to take a step forward. It would take a very long time before he could get used to Jonas’s intimidation.

Meanwhile, Jonas himself was expressionless and hadn’t even broken a sweat.

“After all, even just Master Jonas’s intimidation is incredible...”

“I know that. If you call that strength, then even stronger than me is Lord Guido, and stronger than him is the captain of the Mages’ Corps, and then the captain of the Knights’ Regiment. And so on and so forth. There will always be someone stronger,” Jonas said with cool indifference.

It was all Dorino could do to respond with a bitter smile. Even just listening to Jonas’s voice was enough to make his body start to tremble again on its own. The fear was still within his body.

He had gotten used to wearing cold, heavy armor. And even though it had been a short encounter, he had learned to dance with a red bear. But there would always be someone stronger than him.

“Dorino, do you have plans for the rest of the day?” Guido asked.

“No, I do not.”

“Jonas, go inform the house that one more will be joining us for dinner. Rather than the dining room, let us dine in a room with a heated low table.”

“Understood. I shall go at once.”

Guido hadn’t bothered to ask Dorino if he wanted to stay. Dorino had no knowledge of noble dining etiquette, but refusing did not seem like an option.

“I appreciate your hospitality, Lord Scalfarotto.”

“Call me Guido. You came here today as Volf’s friend, so please, be at ease. Also, you will feel better if you move around a little.”

“...If you will excuse me, then, Lord Guido.”

Dorino put his hands on his knees and forced them to bend a few times. Then, he swung his arms out. He managed to relax his body, which had been tense with nausea and on the verge of shaking, then apologized to Guido.

“Please forgive me for displaying my cowardice in front of you.”

“Not at all. That was excellent for your first time. Jonas’s intimidation is not easily endured. I may look fine, but see for yourself.”

Guido held out his palm. The fingertips of his surprisingly callused hands were indeed trembling. And yet he was able to keep that elegant smile on his face. Dorino felt a deep admiration for Volf’s older brother. Being a future marquis was no walk in the park.

Still smiling, Guido brought his index finger to his lips.

“Don’t tell Volf or Jonas. Even a coward such as myself still has some pride.”

The group made their way through the house to a spacious drawing room. Right in its center sat a large heated low table of plain wood.

Upon entering, Dorino immediately removed his shoes and stepped carefully across the plush ivory carpet.

“I shall take your coats, gentlemen.”

Jonas took Guido’s and Dorino’s coats as if it were the natural thing to do and hung them on the gold bar affixed to the wall next to the door. It was a level of hospitality that made Dorino antsy. Guido had told him to be at ease, but he wasn’t even sure what sort of posture he should assume sitting on the thin cushion. The sound of the firewood crackling in the hearth was deafening to his ears.

“Lord Volf will join us shortly, so please help yourself.”

Jonas served them red ale and grissini—long, thin, crispy breadsticks—but Dorino waited until Guido reached for his food and drink before he started on his own. Although he hadn’t been sweating, he found he was parched, and the ale, with its pleasant aroma, was very welcome.

“I’m late! Sorry to keep you waiting, Dorino.”

It’s not like we’re in any rush, Dorino thought, but nonetheless, he was relieved to see Volf.

Once each of the four of them had taken a seat at one side of the table, a manservant began to bring out plates. On the first were slices of cantaloupe and white ham. Dorino assumed they were to be eaten on their own, but when he saw Volf take a bite of both in combination, he followed suit.

Dorino ate cantaloupe in the barracks during summertime. This one seemed a little underripe, but it still had the right texture and didn’t have that unripe flavor. The thinly sliced white ham seemed to be cured but unsmoked. It was salty, and when he ate it with the cantaloupe, the result was a delightful blend of sweet and savory.

Despite his efforts to appear reserved, he murmured, “That’s damn tasty...”

He had been doubtful at first, believing the ham and the cantaloupe would be better separately, but they actually did taste great together. He was disappointed to see that only four slices remained on the plate.

However, as soon as that plate was clean, his interest was captured by columns of white steam that bore an appetizing aroma. Four bowls of golden-brown consommé were elegantly arranged atop a white platter. The soup only contained a few chopped greens, but the aroma more than made up for its simplicity. Dorino’s nose twitched in anticipation.

“This’ll warm me right up.”

The day had gotten colder, and consommé seemed just the thing.

However, this proved to be nothing like the vegetable soup his family served at their restaurant. That was not to say there was anything wrong with it—the flavor was quite refined—but rather than satisfying him, it only made him hungrier.

The next dish was sliced steak, served alongside the marinated mutton he had brought. He was a little bothered to see how unprofessional the untrimmed and buckled edges of the mutton looked beside the thick-cut steak.

“Guido, Master Jonas,” said Volf, “this is the marinated mutton that Dorino’s family makes. Try it—it’s delicious!”

“I’ve never had something like this. Don’t mind if I do.”

“I will gladly have some.”

Mutton was a cheap, tough meat. Heavily salted and seasoned, it was a typical meal for commoners residing in the lower city.

Guido, Jonas, and Volf began to eat. Guido was chewing carefully. Jonas paused momentarily, then resumed chewing. Dorino wanted to tell them not to force themselves to finish it, but he wasn’t sure if even that remark would be appropriate.

He looked to Volf, his last remaining hope, and saw that he was eating his mutton with obvious relish. Now that he thought of it, his friend was accustomed to the meals the squad ate at taverns and stalls; if anything, his palate was more like a commoner’s.

Dorino himself tried both types of meat, but he was frankly unable to savor the taste of either.

Suddenly, Guido asked him, “Dorino, can this be purchased in quantity?”

Dorino’s voice came out shrill. “Pardon?”

“It has a nice, robust flavor. I would love for my household to try it too. It comes in a barrel, yes? How many people does one barrel feed?”

“I would say probably about four people.”

“I see. In that case, I’ll take twenty barrels. Is it all right if I order it directly from your family?”

It was an offer Dorino instantly and gratefully accepted. “Yes, sir! Thank you very much!”

Without having planned to, he had made a sale for his family’s diner. He could well imagine their reactions—his father frozen in silence, his older brother fairly losing his mind—but he tried not to think about that right now. It really might be funnier not to give his family any advance warning at all, but no sooner had that wicked thought occurred to him than a heavy plate was set before him.

On this plate were a generous portion of white fish and short-cut pasta garnished with a wreath of green vegetables. Jonas’s plate, unlike the other men’s, contained thinly sliced bloodred meat, but Dorino chose to ignore that.

He used the silver spoon to bring a bite of pasta to his mouth. The white fish wasn’t cod, as he had assumed, but sea bream. The dish had been but lightly seasoned, no doubt in order not to overpower the flavor of the fish.

With each bite of this splendid bream, utterly free of small bones, Dorino’s admiration grew. This was what nobles ate. The difference consisted not merely in the quality of the ingredients but in the time and effort put into the preparation.

His family also sold pasta at their restaurant, but nothing like this. The most popular dish was an affordably priced pasta with tomato sauce and finely chopped meat, seasoned only with salt and pepper. Humble as it was, it was a favorite of Dorino’s, though he hadn’t had it in a while.

“Does your entire family work at the restaurant, Sir Dorino?” Jonas asked.

“My mother, father, and oldest brother do. My second oldest brother works for a fishmonger,” Dorino replied, unthinkingly mentioning his second oldest brother unprompted.

Whenever he mentioned that he had two older brothers, the next question he was asked, without fail, was whether both were knights. Not only were his brothers not knights, but there was not a single knight or mage to be found in his entire family line as far back as anyone could remember. Once he said as much, the person who had asked would become oddly evasive or careful with their words. But Dorino was not, as they must have been thinking, either an adopted child or the illegitimate son of a noble. It was simple happenstance that his magical talents far exceeded those of anyone in his family.

In any case, this was a topic that reliably led to awkward conversations.

“You all wield blades, then,” said Guido.

“Sir?”

“Your father and brothers work with knives. You work with a sword. You are all proficient in blades.”

“Oh, that’s right!” Volf said. “That’s why you’re so good at swordsmanship and cutting up forest serpents.”

Volf, don’t lump pork, chicken, and forest serpents together. It was just that Dorino couldn’t have stood by and watched the serpent be clumsily hacked apart or shoddily cooked. After all, he’d wanted to make sure it would taste good; that much should have been obvious.

“Cutting up forest serpents? That does sound as if it would require a great deal of strength...” A distant look came over Guido’s blue eyes.

Eventually, all four all polished off their pasta. The next dish—or rather, dishes—were served on four large, square plates. Each held a variety of bite-sized foods packed tightly together: cooked vegetables drizzled in white cream sauce, a tomato stuffed with potato and cheese, a green terrine of spinach and shrimp, and a quail egg wrapped in mincemeat, fried, and topped with arugula. Each bite was as delicious—and as beautiful—as the last.

As the men ate and drank, they continued to discuss monsters. Once, it seemed, goblins had tried to make a den in Scalfarotto lands. There hadn’t been enough of them to warrant calling the Order of Beast Hunters, so the family had taken care of slaying them. Volf looked surprised at the story, so Dorino gathered it had happened a long time ago. Dorino finished the rest of his second glass of red ale as he listened to Guido explain that they now kept nightdogs throughout the domain for defense.

As he basked in the feeling of fullness, he was served a silver bowl and a small cup of black coffee. At the bottom of the bowl was a single scoop of ice cream. How am I supposed to eat this? Dorino wondered, unsure of the proper etiquette.

He looked up to observe the other three. Guido scooped a spoonful of ice cream and dipped it into his coffee before eating it. Volf poured the entirety of his coffee over the ice cream and ate it with a spoon as he talked. Jonas poured his coffee into the deep bowl and carefully mixed it with the ice cream until it was mostly liquid. He then consumed the mixture by sipping it from his spoon.

Unsure which was the correct way to combine the two, Dorino settled on drinking the coffee and eating the ice cream separately.

Once their lengthy dinner had concluded, the manservant withdrew from the room, but not before leaving a plate of cheese and ham on the table, along with fresh glasses and an assortment of alcohol.

“Now then, let’s all sit back and take our ease,” Guido said. “We should all feel comfortable speaking freely in this room. Speak however and about whatever you like.”

What’s this, now? The blood drained from Dorino’s face. He was thinking it was about time for him to leave. Though Guido was his friend’s older brother, there was no way he could speak freely to a future marquis.

Trying to stay calm, he looked to Volf, but his friend was smiling innocently in response to his brother’s statement. Was this really the same brother whom Volf, as recently as last spring, had said vaguely he didn’t have much contact with?

“Dorino, my brother says it’s fine, so you can just talk how you normally would.”

Like hell I can! he wanted to shout.

On his left, Jonas slipped his arms out of the sleeves of his jacket, then tossed it carelessly to the floor. The heavy thunk it made could only have come from weapons concealed within. Though Jonas wore an attendant’s uniform, his métier was that of a bodyguard, as his intimidation skill likewise bore evidence.

“Volf, I’ll take a glass of fuoco with ice. What’ll you have, Guido?”

Dorino could hardly believe that Jonas had addressed the brothers without their titles, but neither batted an eye, and he had to accept that this was how the three of them normally interacted.

“Plum liqueur with hot water sounds good right about now.”

“Ah, I’ll make it,” Volf offered. “What will you have, Dorino? There’s fuoco, plum liqueur, and white wine. If you prefer ale, I can go get that for you.”

“Well, I’ve never had plum liqueur with hot water before, so I think I’ll try that.”

Volf made hot plum liqueur cocktails for Guido and Dorino. The four of them raised their glasses and made a toast, Jonas with his fuoco and Volf with his white wine.

Plum liqueur was a product of Esterland. One sip filled Dorino’s senses with the subtle sweetness of plum blossoms, but as the liquid went down his throat, there was, unmistakably, the bite of alcohol as well. The hot water made it go down more smoothly without diluting the taste too much.

As Dorino was wondering how much a liqueur from Esterland must have cost, Guido opened his mouth.

“Look at us—everyone here studied chivalry in college except for me... Did all of you play the confession game when you were students as well?”

“The squad still plays it when we go out drinking,” Volf said.

“Oho? How fun.”

Volf, did you forget I’m sitting right here? Dorino dreaded the thought of what he could be pressed to divulge in this company. As he broke out in a sweat, he turned to look at Jonas, who was lapping his fuoco with a red tongue.

Across from Dorino, Guido sat holding his hot cocktail in both hands, looking keen to play. Dorino didn’t particularly want to confess anything, but he found the idea of asking questions in such company did stir his curiosity.

“Any specific topic?” he asked.

“Hmm, yes,” Guido said thoughtfully. “Why don’t we ask about failures and regrets? Now, as the oldest, I hereby confess.”

Dorino automatically slapped his dominant hand on the table. Jonas and Volf likewise extended their arms and placed their hands palm-down on the table. The gesture signified their vow to accept the punishment of having their hands cut off should they divulge what was said here to anyone else. It was a mildly unsettling aspect of this game, though it wasn’t something Dorino ordinarily thought about too deeply.

“Once, I sent my wife—she was my fiancée at the time—enough white lilies to fill a room. I thought they would be perfect for a dainty beauty such as herself. The next time I saw her, she was sneezing so badly that I was worried she had caught a cold. That was when she informed me she was allergic to lily pollen... We made a promise that in the future, each of us would ask the other about allergies before sending flowers.”

Guido had said it offhandedly, but Dorino wondered just how many white lilies he’d needed to buy in order to fill a whole room. He tried to picture this room full of lilies and winced.

“Guido, it’s not that I don’t sympathize...” Volf began.

“...but that doesn’t count as a confession,” Jonas finished. “You merely wanted to talk about your wife.”

All Dorino could do was grin vaguely.

“I’ll go next. I hereby confess...”

Jonas lowered his voice, and Dorino’s body instinctively tensed. Was this an aftereffect of the intimidation he’d endured earlier, or was he simply trying to listen closely? Not even he could be sure.

“...I sent a lady no fewer than three cards on which her name was misspelled.”

Volf and Dorino cried out at the same time.

“Master Jonas, how could you?!”

“That’s awful!”

“Well, surely she was offended?” Guido needled him.

“She sent one of the cards back with corrections in red ink, accompanied by a note saying ‘Please fix and send back,’” Jonas admitted promptly.

“That was gracious of her. Was she your girlfriend?” Volf asked.

“My ex-fiancée. We broke off our engagement due to a change in family circumstances.”

Suddenly, the air felt heavier.

This was another thing that Dorino just didn’t understand about nobles. They started and ended engagements easily due to family circumstances, but what about the feelings of the people involved? Theirs was an incomprehensible world.

“Speaking of, I heard that you prefer older women. Is that true?”

“I have no fixed preference in age,” said Jonas. “All I look for in a woman is strength, self-possession, and tolerance.”

“What about appearance?”

“Let’s see... I like women with red hair and green...”

Jonas paused, refilled his glass of fuoco almost to overflowing, and took a sip. Dorino pretended not to notice that the man sitting to his right had gone stock-still.

“...green hair, black hair, any color will do. I prefer longer hair, but short hair is also fine if it suits the women. Something the matter, Volf?”

“Just enjoying my drink,” Volf answered, a trifle tardily.

Dorino wanted to quip that Volf wasn’t even holding his wine glass, but he let it go. The rust-colored eyes at his side and the blue eyes across the table were sparkling with amusement.

“Volf, you’re next.”

“Oh, right. I guess I am a little older than Dorino. Let’s see...”

He lowered his head to think for a moment. When he finally raised it again, the doll-like smile on his face sent a shiver down Dorino’s spine.

“I hereby confess. In college, I always had my hair cut at home, but a classmate persuaded me to go to a barbershop. I thought it would be a nice change of pace, but he ended up selling my hair.”

This time, Dorino’s response overlapped with Jonas’s.

“What the hell? You don’t sell a friend’s hair...”

“But your hair has never been long. What could it be possibly used for?”

“From what I remember, he sold a cushion stuffed with it for six silver coins, and a braided lock tied with a ribbon for seven...”

“That much?! He made a killing off you.”

“It made me realize that I should only get my hair cut by someone I trust.”

So Volf had to be wary even of barbershops. It was really astounding, the level of vigilance he had to keep up.

Dorino had been certain that Volf’s older brother would, like the other two, respond with outrage, but Guido’s lips were curved in a smile.

“Volf, which barbershop was that? I would also love to know the name of your classmate and, if possible, the names of the buyers.”

In contrast with his broad smile, Guido’s voice was low. Volf froze. All Dorino could do for him was pray.

But rather than answer, Volf ceded the floor. “Uh, well, really, that’s enough about me. Dorino, it’s your turn.”

Dorino had no choice but to keep the game going. “I hereby confess. The first girl in my neighborhood I fell in love with is now my sister-in-law.”

The three men fell silent, as did Dorino himself.

Well, that landed poorly. It was a genuine confession, not a joke, but their reaction was shaping up to be an even worse memory—

“Dorino! Look, um, there has to be someone even better out there for you! You’re a real catch!” Volf consoled him.

“Dorino, it just wasn’t meant to be,” said Guido, his voice overlapping his brother’s. “But you will surely find someone who is right for you.”

Am I allowed to laugh? He looked to Jonas for confirmation. The man’s rust-red eyes were staring straight at him.

“Guido,” said Jonas, “what do you say we open up a bottle of that amber liquor?”

“Wonderful idea. Let’s break out the ten-year bottle. This occasion calls for it.”

Dorino couldn’t let them do such a thing for his sake. “No, you really don’t have to do that! I should be going now anyway!”

He was rising from his cushion when Volf firmly grabbed his right arm.

“Dorino, let’s keep drinking! All day long! Until we can’t drink anymore!”

“Stay, Dorino. It’s clear my brother wants you to. We can keep sharing stories a bit longer.”

“Yes, Sir Dorino, stay a bit longer. I’ll go fetch the bottle.”

It seemed that Dorino wouldn’t be leaving for quite some time. In the presence of these three men, he had no power to refuse.

Jonas left the room, then returned with a bottle of amber-red liquor.

“Is everyone all right with having it the same way?”

Once he received their approval, Jonas lined up all four glasses in front of Guido, oddly enough.

Guido narrowed his blue eyes in apparent discontent at the row of empty glasses. “A bit small, aren’t they?”

“You need the practice.”

The meaning behind Jonas’s words immediately became clear when Guido held a hand over the first glass and let out a wave of ice magic.

“Ice Crash,” he intoned quietly.

“Ah, brother...”

“Guido, there’s no room for the alcohol now,” Jonas chided him.

The glass had been filled from bottom to brim with ice. In a way, it was impressive.

“I can’t help it,” Guido said with a sigh. “It’s hard to control my magic when I’ve been drinking.”

Rather than respond to that remark, Jonas placed a new glass on the tabletop. This time, however, he placed it in front of Dorino. Jonas was grinning, and Dorino knew why: He wanted him to add ice to the glass this time.

Dorino roused himself to the challenge. He leaned over, held his palm out toward the glass and chanted quietly, “Ice Crash.”

There was a crackling sound, and the glass was suddenly filled halfway with shards of ice. He repeated the procedure four times, then quietly straightened up.

“You have superb control, Sir Dorino,” said Jonas.

“Thank you. But it’s only easy to control my magic because it’s so weak.”

“No need to be humble, Dorino. You were able to fill all four to precisely the same level,” Guido said.

“Guido, Master Jonas—Dorino has great magic control. He’s a big help on expeditions and in the barracks!”

Volf, why the hell are you bragging about me? Dorino wanted to shoot back, but under those gazes of blue and rust-red, he found it hard to open his mouth. To avoid saying anything at all, he coughed lightly, and Jonas began to pour the amber-red liquor.

The words “Ordinato Dawn” were written in gold script on the bottle’s bright red label. It only took a glance to see that this was a top-shelf liquor. Dorino took in its fragrance as the ice in his glass slowly broke apart.

After toasting to nothing in particular, the four of them drank and silently savored the alcohol. Dorino’s first sip filled his mouth with a powerful aroma and sweetness. It was a strong spirit that burned going down, but even the pain was pleasant.

“Well, we had our little break. Ready to continue?”

By that, Guido evidently meant to continue playing the confession game. Having already shared a painful regret, Dorino found himself feeling less nervous at the prospect of a second round.

“For the first round, we did failures and regrets, so now let’s do something lighter, like...lessons in love.”

That doesn’t sound light at all. Dorino cast a brief glance at Volf. His brow was furrowed.

“Guido, I don’t have any experience in that area—I’ll have nothing to contribute.”

Dorino wanted to grab his friend by the collar and tell him to wake up to his current reality. Volf’s brother, however, simply gave him a cheerful smile.

“In that case, you can just share what you look for in a woman.”

“We’re just having drinks. You can say whatever you like,” Jonas said. He attempted to pour himself another drink, but Guido took the bottle from his hand.

As he filled Jonas’s glass, he said, “I’ll go first. I hereby confess—when it comes to love, you should always try to be clear with your words. You and your partner grew up in different environments, of course, and you have your own ways of thinking. It’s best to express your love, your wishes, and your concerns in a way your beloved can understand. That is especially true when you first confess your feelings.”

It was profound advice, and yet it was easy to understand even for a man like Dorino who had no partner.

But Jonas said under his breath, “That’s taking for granted that your partner is willing to listen to and try to understand you.” Dorino wasn’t brave enough to ask whether he was speaking from personal experience.

Meanwhile, another of the men seemed to be mulling over a different component of Guido’s advice. “Confessing...”

Dorino decided to leave the poor fellow to his thoughts.

“Jonas is next,” Guido said.

“I hereby confess. I don’t have enough experience to draw a lesson from, but I do think it’s important that partners have compatible priorities.”

Jonas uttered his statement so quickly that Dorino hadn’t even placed his right hand on the table in time.

“Priorities? You put your work above all else, so does that mean you want a career-oriented woman?” Dorino asked.

Jonas untied the string that held back his hair, letting it fall loosely and cover his face. “I want a woman who doesn’t complain when I leave her alone.”

“Whoa...”

That was some ruthless honesty. Jonas had told him just the other day that he unfortunately had yet to meet his match, but perhaps those had merely been words. If anything, it sounded like Jonas was the one turning down women. As Dorino contemplated that possibility, Volf’s expression turned pensive.

“That sounds like it would leave your partner sad and disappointed... Master Jonas, wouldn’t you worry if you went a long time without hearing from the person you’d been dating?”

“Not particularly. And as long as my partner feels likewise, it’s not a problem. In fact, I think if I sent her flowers and a card every week, she would dump me.”

“Master Jonas, who in the world is this woman you’re seeing...?” asked Dorino.

“I spend time with a strong, beautiful woman who can knock me down with a sword.”

Dorino hadn’t been expecting that last part. He had difficulty imagining a woman strong enough to overpower Jonas.

“You’re next, Volf.”

“I hereby confess, uh...I’d like a woman who is kind, cheerful, and positive.”

“Are you thinking of anyone in particular? If it’s someone from the castle or the guild, your older brother can help you out,” Guido said with a stunning smile. No explanation was needed as to who they were both thinking of.

“No, I’m not even thinking about a relationship...right now...” Volf said.

Dorino swirled his glass. He hadn’t missed that pause before the words “right now,” but Volf himself hadn’t seemed conscious of it. In the past, he would merely have responded that he wasn’t interested in dating at all.

He moved at a snail’s pace, which was agonizing to watch, but he was seemingly making progress. If he only confessed, his feelings would be reciprocated, Dorino thought with a measure of jealousy.

“And what about you, Sir Dorino?” Jonas asked, handing him the reins, as it were.

Since he did not have a girlfriend, he decided to speak candidly about his taste in women. “I hereby confess. I like women who are kind, beautiful, blonde, and busty.”

“Oh? It seems we’re on the same team, Dorino,” Guido said approvingly.

Dorino only barely managed to keep himself from spewing out his drink. Good job, cheek muscles.

After Dorino chatted a little with Guido about their shared preference, the group began proposing topics for the third round. There was a question that had popped into Dorino’s mind, but rather than ask it aloud, he rocked the ice in his glass.

The clinking of the ice made Guido turn his blue eyes toward Dorino. “Did something come to mind, Dorino?”

“No... I mean, I did think of something, but it’s an off-limits topic in the Order of Beast Hunters...”

Though the squad had been on many expeditions together, this particular topic had made the knights with partners or spouses very uncomfortable.

“A risky topic is perfect for the confession game,” Jonas said, turning to look at him. There was amusement in his rust-red eyes. The alcohol must have been getting to him.

Meanwhile, Volf looked clueless, as if he didn’t recall what Dorino was referring to.

“Well, it’s all purely hypothetical, but the question is, if your partner cheated on you, what... What would you do?”

It wasn’t nerves that had made him pause momentarily but a nearby vibration of magic.

“I hereby confess...that could never happen to me. My wife signed a temple contract that she would never be unfaithful.”

“Huh? Lord Guido, you had her sign a temple contract?” Dorino asked.

He wondered if this, too, was commonplace for nobles, but Volf’s eyes were also wide.

“Yes. Of course, I myself signed the same contract. I don’t want to give the one I love any reason to worry.”

Guido’s smile was radiant. Just as Dorino was almost convinced that this was merely another noble custom, Jonas rapped his fingers on the tabletop.

“Don’t be fooled, you two. It’s far from common. Guido just goes overboard.”

In what way? Dorino decided not to ask. He kept his right hand on the table and waited for Jonas to continue.

“I hereby confess...I don’t care if my woman has someone else. As long as she has eyes only for me while we’re together, that’s enough.”

How pragmatic can you be?! Dorino cried in disbelief internally, but he kept his thoughts to himself.

Guido and Volf did not, however. Each asked Jonas a question in turn.

“Jonas, you realize, don’t you, that we’re speaking of romance right now? Not sparring.”

“But I read in a bestiary that large dragons have only one mate...?”

“Are you classifying me as a large dragon? You have me beat in height,” Jonas replied with a smirk, ignoring the first question entirely. “All right, your turn. What would you do if your sweetheart was with another man?”

Volf’s expression fell, though it did nothing to diminish his handsomeness. He looked, really, like a sad doll.

“I hereby confess... I’d drink.”

Volf didn’t wait a second after he finished speaking to drain the contents of his glass. Dorino took that to mean that if his friend was ever cheated on, he would get dead drunk.

“Yeah, that’s understandable. But before that, I’d probably try to cling to her as much as I could.”

“Cling to her...?”

Don’t look at me all misty-eyed. I don’t want you clinging to me.

Jonas poured more alcohol into Volf’s glass. “I don’t think that’s something you need to worry about.”

Dorino went next. “I hereby confess...I would probably break up with her. Then I’d weep over a beer.”

Of course, Dorino’s love for the blonde woman who flashed into his mind was entirely one-sided. He could conceive of no future in which she would return his love, so if he heard that she had ended up with someone else, all he could realistically do was have a beer and a good cry.

“Dorino, we could drink together...”

Cut it out, Volf. I can only realistically imagine that happening to me, not you. Dorino suppressed that thought as he added more ice to all four glasses.

After he topped them off with more alcohol, he noticed that Guido was leaning back slightly and observing the rest of them.

“Lord Guido, what’s on your mind?”

Guido, the only married man in this group, had an elder-brotherly sort of look that somehow took in not only Volf but Jonas and Dorino as well.

“Oh, nothing, really. I was just reflecting that the three of you have yet to join the married club.”

Dorino was the only one to respond. “I would if I could.”

They continued to banter and talk, and at a certain point, Volf flopped to the floor.

“Heated tables sure are great...” he breathed.

After finishing the confession game, they’d started drinking even more, so either the alcohol had caught up with Volf or he had succumbed to the magic of the heated table. He sang its praises, and those of a certain red-haired magical toolmaker, for some time before going still.

“Volf, I really think you should switch to water— Oh, he’s out cold. Looks like he’ll be asleep for a while. I can tell by his face.”

Dorino chuckled at Volf’s expression. He resembled a sleeping child.

“Does Volf look different when he’s soundly versus unsoundly asleep?” Guido asked.

“Yes. He’s not like this on expeditions, when he’s asleep but still on guard. He jumps awake at the slightest noise.”

In spite of their conversation, Volf gave no indication of rousing.

With his eyes on his brother, Guido let out a sigh. “Being a Beast Hunter really is strenuous work... Incidentally, Dorino, do you mind if I ask what grade your magic is?”

“Seven, but just barely. I started at six.”

“So you know how to raise it. Did you drink mana potions?”

“Yes. I was on an expedition where we fought against several monsters in a row, so I had to drink several mana potions. That was when I learned it’s a viable way to increase my magic.”

“Do you think you might raise it to eight or even nine?”

“Someday, maybe, but I don’t have a large enough stock of potions yet.”

“I see. Well then, would you object to me furnishing you with some, as a gift to a good friend of Volf’s?”

Raising one’s magic required far more than one or two mana potions. Dorino would need more than ten. Even with a Beast Hunter’s salary, which was considered fairly high, buying that many mana potions would have been prohibitively expensive. The fact that Guido was willing to offer such a gift meant that he really must have seen Dorino as his younger brother’s close friend.

Despite that—no, because of that, Dorino shook his head.

“I very much appreciate the thought, but I cannot accept. If I did, I could no longer call myself Volf’s friend.”

“I thought you might say as much. But should you ever find yourself in need of help, I hope you’ll reach out. You can contact the family directly, or you can go through Volf, if you prefer.”

“Thank you.”

Guido had seen through his pride. He smiled at him gently, like an older brother.

Nobles and commoners had vastly different upbringings and ways of thinking. So, at any rate, Dorino had always thought, but tonight, after playing three rounds of the confession game, he felt he had gotten a little closer to them.

“Morning, Dorino!”

The next morning, the birds were chirping, and Dorino opened his eyes to a beaming smile at his bedside.

Still hungover from the night before, he clutched his head as he sat upright in bed. He had answered the knocking at his door, and Volf had entered. Damn it, good-looking guys don’t even look bad after a night of drinking.

“Dorino, how hungry are you for breakfast?”

“Not that hungry...”

“Okay then, how does pancakes, scrambled eggs, café au lait, yogurt, and fruit sound?”

“...S-Sure.”

He had been at the point of retorting that he’d just said he wasn’t that hungry, but he stopped himself at Volf’s enthusiastic expression.

“All right, here’s a change of clothes. There’s soap and a razor in the washroom next door. If you want to take a shower, there are towels in the cabinet along the wall. Don’t be afraid to ask for anything else you need.”

I’m getting the royal treatment. As he watched his friend cheerfully open the door to the adjoining washroom, Dorino started to feel a headache that had nothing to do with his hangover. He knew Volf was just excited to have a friend stay over at his house, but Dorino had something he wanted to tell his smiling friend.

He said it in a whisper: “You should be doing this sort of thing with Dahlia...”

But he was nevertheless grateful for Volf’s hospitality and accepted it gladly.

After showering, Dorino changed into a white shirt and black pants—conveniently, they were his size—and had breakfast with Volf. The pancakes at the Scalfarotto home were fluffy and had a taste that a child would appreciate.

“I shall escort you to the carriage stop, Sir Dorino.”

Volf had an appointment at a tailor’s to get his measurements taken, so Jonas walked Dorino to the carriage stop in his stead. Dorino’s insistence that he could just walk home was dismissed with a smile.

Jonas spoke politely in public. Dorino much preferred the familiar way they had spoken yesterday. With that thought, he asked hesitantly, “Um, Master Jonas, if you wouldn’t mind, it makes me feel more...or rather, less nervous when you speak casually with me.”

“I’ll take you up on that, then. There aren’t many people I can speak openly with.”

Jonas didn’t smile, but Dorino felt relieved at hearing him speak more at ease. That relief only lasted for a few seconds, though.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take the mana potions?”

It was a very perceptive question. Honestly, when he woke up this morning, Dorino had thought it was a bit of a shame that he had refused them. Still, his answer had not changed.

“Yes, I’m sure. I want to be able to continue calling myself Volf’s friend.”

“Don’t you want to match, no, surpass Volf in strength?”

Jonas came to a halt and studied Dorino with his rust-colored eyes as if he could see right through him. No—Dorino had a feeling he wasn’t looking at him but something beyond him.

“That’s unrelated.”

“Oh...?”

All warmth disappeared from Jonas’s expression, and the pupil of his right eye narrowed to a vertical slit. Dorino wasn’t entirely sure of the reason behind this reaction. Was Jonas offended by his refusal?

“Don’t be so naive. If you’re serious about getting stronger, then you don’t have the luxury to pick and choose your method,” Jonas said, his pupil remaining slitted.

Dorino spoke honestly. “I guess that’s what makes me weak. But even though I do want to get stronger than Volf, being his friend is more important to me.”

For a long moment, Jonas didn’t respond.

“Then how about you pay me in installments?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“If you can bring your ice magic up to grade eight, you can make a respectable second income manufacturing ice and ice crystals for warehouses and food storage. I can give you money for mana potions, and once you raise your magic, you can repay me with the money you earn working.”

“I couldn’t let you do that, Master Jonas.”

“Don’t worry—I’ll charge you interest. It’ll be my way of earning a little pocket money myself.”

Jonas favored him with a villainous grin, and Dorino couldn’t help but grin back.

“How much interest are we talking about?” he asked.

“What do you say to ten percent annually? If you can agree to that, I’ll provide the potions. I have some connections who will let me have them for cheap.”

Dorino bowed his head. “If you insist, then I gladly accept!”

When it came to increasing one’s magic, even accounting for individual differences, the process required more than ten mana potions, which cost two gold coins a bottle—no mean sum.

Once he raised his magic, Dorino would seriously have to look for a side job. He had a feeling Jonas could refer him to such a job, but he had no intention of asking him about that right now.

“Incidentally, shall I tell you next time we do intimidation training?” Jonas asked. “I’m sure it’s not as scary as facing a real monster, though.”

At the mention of yesterday’s training, Dorino’s face tensed up. It was rare for him to experience intimidation that intense in the field, but it would indeed be good practice.

“Thank you, Master Jonas! Please count me in! Facing a strong knight is plenty frightening, but I’ll toughen up.”

The knight with the rust-red eyes broke into a pure, genuine smile.

The Gandolfi Workshop in the West District

“Chairwoman, I’ve come to pick you up— Ah, let me carry that for you.”

When Dahlia stepped outside the gates of the Green Tower, Ivano took the cloth bag she was carrying. She had to hold it with both arms, so she was happy to let him take it.

“Chairwoman, is this a gift for the Gandolfi Workshop?”

“Yes, it’s a book dryer.”

Today was their first day back in business in the new year. The workshop and home of Fermo Gandolfi, the small goods craftsman, had finally been completed, so they were stopping by there to offer their congratulations before continuing to the Merchants’ Guild.

The Gandolfi Workshop tested and manufactured several products for Dahlia, starting with the foaming soap dispensers.

In addition to that, Fermo often gave Dahlia advice on techniques for working with small articles. She was delighted that such a dependable and experienced artisan was moving close to the Green Tower in the West District.

When she had asked him the other day what to give him in celebration of the opening of his workshop, he’d asked her for a magical tool called a book dryer. He said he now had more parchment books and wanted to keep them free from mold. It was possible to use a regular dryer too, but sometimes parchment books could warp depending on how they were dried. Dahlia had also heard stories of pages becoming too warm and curling up. The book dryer prevented that from happening by blowing air uniformly over the whole book.

For Fermo, Dahlia had made a version of the book dryer that was a bit larger and had a slightly stronger air output than the regular product. She didn’t share the fact that she had used her eyes to adjust the blower to her satisfaction, after which she’d had to use eyedrops.

She had made it sturdy enough that it wouldn’t flip over even when a reference book was placed on it, so it was fairly heavy. She’d had to keep a tight hold on it when she’d lugged it outside.

“Is Sir Volf at the castle today?”

“No, he said he had some things to do at home.”

Volf had mentioned that his clothes had been feeling a bit tight since the start of the new year. Maybe he also put on some weight around the waist, Dahlia had thought with a faint glimmer of hope, but as far as she could tell, he looked the same in that area.

He had gone on to say that his clothes fit tighter around the shoulders and that he suspected he had gained more muscle in his shoulders and upper arms. That made sense. He had been going through a lot of rigorous training, after all.

Although the formal wear that Volf had had tailored still fit fine, Guido had urged him to have it checked too, so today he was getting his measurements taken and having clothing made.

Volf, too, had prepared a celebratory gift for Fermo: two workbenches that were resistant to fire and high heat. They had already been delivered and set up in the workshop. They would be especially useful for Fermo’s wife, who was a glassmaker.

“I delivered my gift to Fermo yesterday. You wouldn’t believe the scowl he gave me.”

“Huh?” Dahlia said, worried something bad had happened.

Ivano slowed his pace.

“Along with a celebratory bottle of wine, I also brought him an abacus with extra columns and a ledger book. Fermo isn’t the best at keeping a ledger. Now that Barbara is working again, he will be leaving the accounting to someone at the Merchants’ Guild.”

“I see...”

Dahlia could understand. Keeping a ledger was certainly complicated.

Dahlia had her education from her past life and her father’s instruction in this life to thank for being able to do calculations. She could even do some basic accounting, though she would hesitate to say she was particularly good at it. When it came to her specific tax issues or finding tax-saving measures, however, she was hopeless.

Thankfully, Ivano took care of all that for the Rossetti Trading Company.

“I’m so glad I have someone like you who is good with numbers.”

“Thank you. But if you ask me, I think you and Fermo, who can calculate intangible things, like strength and power, rather than what can be seen with the eye, like gold, are much better at numbers than me.”

They continued their conversation as they walked.

Fermo’s workshop was less than a ten-minute walk from the tower. Soon, the brand-new red brick building came into view. The workshop was quite large, standing at three stories tall. However, the metal nameplate hanging from the wall was the same one that had hung at the old workshop. When she saw the words “Gandolfi Workshop” written on it, Dahlia’s heart swelled with joy.

Ivano knocked on the door and called out loudly, “Hellooo!”

The door swung open immediately. Standing on the other side was Fermo, looking as if he had been waiting for them.

“Dahlia, Ivano, thanks for coming!”

“Congratulations, Mr. Fermo.”

“Congratulations, Chairman Gandolfi! This is from the chairwoman.”

Ivano handed Fermo the book dryer.

Fermo accepted it with a thank you and then invited them inside to his new workshop. It was three times larger than his old workshop and smelled pleasantly of wood.

“Sorry about the mess. I haven’t had time to tidy up yet.”

As Fermo said, there were large wooden crates stacked along the walls. It was only natural that it would take time to clean up, considering he had moved workshops and residences at the same time.

And yet, there were already tools and about thirty foam soap dispensers on top of a large work table. Dahlia wondered with some concern if Fermo was under pressure to meet his deadlines before unpacking.

Fermo handed Dahlia and Ivano white salt in a beautiful glass bottle. “Here—for our grand opening.”

“Thank you.”

“For me too? Thank you kindly. Is this artisan’s salt? This is my first time receiving it.”

It was a custom in Ordine for an artisan to give salt to their associates when they became independent or opened a business. The salt represented the artisan’s intention to work hard and sweat. The magical toolmakers in the castle did not observe that custom, so it was most likely one followed only by commoner craftspeople.

In Dahlia’s past life, there had been a saying, “send salt to one’s enemy,” but from what she recalled, it meant to give aid to one’s enemies in the midst of trying times so that both sides could fight on equal grounds. That sentiment didn’t seem to be present at all here.

As Dahlia was admiring the glass bottle of salt, Barbara came into the room. “Welcome, Dahlia, Ivano. I’m sorry that I look a mess.”

She was dressed very much like an artisan, in a long work shirt and black leather pants. Judging by the protective glasses sitting on her lilac hair, Dahlia guessed she had just been in the middle of doing glasswork.

“I’ll make some tea,” Barbara offered.

“Thank you, but that’s all right. We’re on our way to the guild to get back to work.”

Dahlia and Ivano had come to just say hello. She knew that Fermo and Barbara had a great many orders to fill for small goods and glassworks, respectively. Plus, they were still in the process of moving in. She didn’t want to put them out.

But now that husband and wife were both here, she had one more thing she wanted to give them.

“This is also for you. It’s good for stiff shoulders, so you can use it if you’d like, Mr. Fermo.”

Dahlia had just put the gift in a black cloth bag instead of wrapping it.

Fermo took the bag with a puzzled look on his face. He turned it over and, just as Dahlia had expected him to, knitted his brows together. The shiny object in the palm of his hand was a small, white, oval pendant. The long silver chain dangled loosely from between his fingers.

“Dahlia... Is this the same as what Barbara’s got? This is the same unicorn necklace she wears to ease her redneedle pain, isn’t it?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

Redneedle was a disease that raised bands of red spots and small blisters on one’s body. To Dahlia, it appeared similar to shingles, a disease that had afflicted her mother in her previous life.

When Dahlia first met Barbara last year, the woman was still suffering from the disease, and even moving around had been painful for her.

At the time, Dahlia had just finished making a unicorn necklace, so she had given it to Barbara to try at no cost.

However, unicorn necklaces were not mass-produced products. It was also not clear how long the necklace would remain effective, so there was also the possibility that it would lose its pain-dulling effect over time.

So far, Dahlia had been receiving updates from Barbara that the necklace was still working, but she didn’t know for how long that would last, hence why she made another one.

“In case the magic in Mrs. Barbara’s necklace wears off, she can wear this to relieve the pain until another one can be made, so even if you don’t wear it to relieve stiff shoulders, Mr. Fermo, I’d like you to keep it with you...”

“Dahlia—” Fermo began, but Ivano spoke over him with a smile.

“How great—it will ease your shoulder tension! That will make you even more productive, Fermo.”

When Dahlia had previously given Barbara her unicorn necklace, Ivano had given her some words of caution. She wouldn’t have thought to consider it had he not told her, but he alerted her to the possibility that someone might take advantage of her goodwill, or they might feel they were being given something out of pity or being patronized.

But this time, she was giving them the necklace to celebrate their new workshop, and she had explained before giving it to them that she wanted them to have it to relieve Barbara’s redneedle pain in case her current necklace became ineffective.

She had thought Ivano might stop her from giving the necklace, but all he had told her was to “do as you like.” And now he was even encouraging the gift. She felt reassured by that.

Fermo glanced briefly over at Ivano, then looked intently at Dahlia. Barbara also studied her calmly with her periwinkle eyes.

Dahlia knew there was a chance they would offer to pay for the necklace, as they had last time, or feel offended by the gift. As she braced herself for their response, she held their gazes.

She thought she caught the light in Fermo’s dark green eyes flicker.

“Thanks, Dahlia. We’re happy to accept this.”

“Thank you again, Dahlia.”

When Dahlia saw both husband and wife smile at her, she felt tremendously relieved. I’m so glad they’re accepting it as a celebratory gift.

“Is this design here a dragon?”

“Yes. Barbara’s pendant is shaped like a rose, so... I’m sorry, I’m not very good at carving, so it came out a bit unbalanced...”

Dahlia had had no issues working with the unicorn horn itself. She had used her mythril tools, so if anything, she had been worried she would cut too much off. But a dragon was much more difficult to engrave than a rose, so it had ended up with an oversized head and smallish wings.

“No, it looks pretty good.”

Fermo slipped the necklace over his head, placed the pendant underneath his shirt, and then opened his eyes wide in astonishment.

“This is nice. My shoulder tension is completely gone. I could work all night without a problem!”

“Don’t do that! Please, you must take care of yourself. The pendant only makes the pain go away—it doesn’t heal your actual condition,” Dahlia cautioned him, unintentionally making her voice loud.

“...Tch! All right, I’ll be careful...” Fermo responded with a tense look on his face.

Dahlia pretended not to notice Barbara had pinched her husband’s upper arm. Ivano said nothing but was clearly trying to stifle a laugh.

“You know, I wish I had a daughter like you, Dahlia...”

“Here we go again. You always say that, Barbara...”

Dahlia could only smile awkwardly at Fermo and Barbara’s playful banter.

After they said goodbye, Dahlia and Ivano hurriedly boarded the carriage that had come for them and left.

Fermo wished they could have treated them to a meal so he could more deeply express his gratitude, but he knew how busy this season was for both of them. He hoped they could make some time to meet again once things calmed down.

Fermo carefully took out the pendant from under his shirt.

“It’s a pretty thing...”

The white, well-polished pendant hung at the end of a long silver chain. The carving in the center resembled a juvenile dragon. Dahlia claimed she was not talented at carving, but it was a fairly detailed and well-done depiction.

Her skills had definitely improved. Fermo wondered if it was a result of her doing more carving and cutting work for her magical tools.

A part of him thought she could improve her skills even more if she also became a small goods artisan, but he probably shouldn’t say something like that to a magical toolmaker.

However, Dahlia was coming to Fermo for help on cutting, carving, and finishing metal surfaces, so even if she wasn’t his apprentice, he was able to impart his techniques to her. He would have to be satisfied with that.

“Well, great. Dahlia did something nice for us yet again. Just when I thought I had even the score a bit.”

“What’s this? You’ll just have to pay her back again. You’re the veteran here, aren’t you?”

“So are you,” he replied, shifting the pendant in his palm to view it at different angles. The sunlight coming through the window glinted gold on the white unicorn pendant. It made his eyes sting.

“It hasn’t even been a year...”

Last year, when Fermo first met Dahlia, his workshop had been on the decline. He had overworked his wife to the point that her health suffered.

He was hard on his apprentices with the intention to educate them, trying to force them to understand with harsh words. Some apprentices even left shortly after joining when they couldn’t keep up.

If he had not met Dahlia at the Merchants’ Guild that day, then he would likely have had to close his workshop. He probably wouldn’t have manufactured new products either. He might have found a job at some other workshop, and he would have been working so much just to provide for Barbara that he wouldn’t have been able to do anything to help ease her pain.

His apprentices, as well, might have ended up in other workshops where they felt out of place or been forced to change occupations entirely halfway through their apprenticeships. Fermo had imagined such scenarios many times, and each time they sent a chill through him.

Just seeing his hands at work assembling a project was enough for Dahlia to view him as a master craftsman. She listened intently to his opinions regarding development, but if she had her own idea about how to go about things, she would tell him with confidence. She was the type of student who was difficult to mentor.

But even that challenge was so much fun for him, and it was that very quality that made artisans such hopeless creatures.

Through Dahlia, he had also met one other person. Ivano, who had become his friend, had taught him to be more mindful about how he spoke with others while still doing what he thought was right as a craftsman.

At first, Fermo had thought he was a bit untrustworthy, albeit a competent merchant, but nowadays, he was beginning to worry about him. However, true to his sobriquet, the Cerulean Crow, Ivano seemed like the type to flit away from danger before it was too late.

Even just now, when Fermo had been about to offer to pay Dahlia for the cost of the unicorn pendant, Ivano had stopped him by saying it would increase his productivity. He knew what he was saying behind those words—accept and repay us with your work—so Fermo obliged him.

Outside the large window of his workshop, the West District’s winter sky looked astoundingly high.

Fermo had gotten his workshop back on its feet, and though he had offered to subcontract for the Rossetti Trading Company, he had somehow become a chairman himself, bought a new, larger workshop and house, and even had his own warehouse.

He would not make the same mistakes he had in the past. This time, he would take extra care of his wife, he would not inconvenience her too much, and he would not push her past her limits. He would no longer one-sidedly lecture his apprentices. He would choose his words carefully and aim to teach them in a way that they could understand.

As a chairman, he would learn everything he could about managing a business, interacting with customers, and good manners.

And I’ll hone my skills even more, so that I don’t fall behind my junior. As he made that vow to himself, Fermo reflexively made a fist.

He was suddenly aware that Barbara was also clenching her fists. Those were not the fists of a chairman’s wife but of an artisan.

Fermo was a small goods craftsman. Barbara was a glassmaker. In their younger years, they had both worked hard to develop their skills.

A while after they got married, Barbara had supported Fermo at his workshop and taken on less glassmaking work. She had told him repeatedly not to worry about it, and Fermo had let himself rely on her help for a long time.

Once the pendant that Dahlia had given her eased the pain, he saw Barbara cutting and painting glass for the first time in a long while.

Her hair was a mess, she was bathed in sweat, but she looked to be enjoying herself immensely. For the first time in a while, he saw the smile of an artisan on his wife’s face.

When she had finished painting a piece, she commented on how her skills had fallen since becoming ill with redneedle. Fermo got down on both knees and apologized to her.

He bowed his head down low and expressed how guilty he felt for taking his wife’s—no, Barbara the glassmaker’s opportunities away from her and causing her to lose her skills. In response, Barbara had easily smiled and told him that it had been her choice, and that she could always regain her skills.

Now that a new Gandolfi Workshop had been built, they had two workshops—one where Fermo made small goods, and one where Barbara made glasswork.

An artisan having their own workshop was like being a king with his own castle.

When they were still in the planning stages, his wife had been dismayed by the size and grandness of her workshop. In response, Fermo had handed her a written plan detailing how she could come back to work in full force, take on apprentices, and expand her business. Ivano, his ever dependable friend, had helped him with the plan and provided him with attainable figures.

Fermo and Barbara were not young anymore. Who knew how much longer they had to practice their crafts.

But I want us both to work as artisans for as long as we can—when Fermo told her that, Barbara nodded without saying anything.

Those periwinkle blue eyes he had fallen in love with the first day they met became filled with the tears of an artisan.

She was a glassmaker once again, with small cuts on her fingertips and the clear indentations left by her protective eyewear on her face. He thought she was most beautiful that way, though he couldn’t bring himself to tell her, perhaps because of how long they had been together. So instead, he dropped his hand on her shoulder and cracked a joke like he usually did.

“Look at you, Barbara. You’re all fired up!”

“Yes, it starts with a single step! Let’s repay that debt!”

He could always count on her, his beloved wife.

Expedition Nightwear and the Couturier

Several days after the company resumed operations, Dahlia, accompanied by Ivano and Jonas, went to pay her first visit of the year to the Order of Beast Hunters’ wing in the castle. Since it was their first official greeting of the year, they had all dressed up a bit. Dahlia wore a rich dark blue dress, Ivano a dark gray suit, and Jonas a knight’s uniform.

“Welcome, Master Dahlia, Master Jonas, and Mr. Ivano. I’m looking forward to another good year together!”

Waiting for them in the entryway of the Order’s wing to guide them inside was Dorino. His cheery voice and smile helped alleviate some of Dahlia’s nerves.

After they exchanged greetings, the four of them headed to the conference room.

“Head Manager Fano is here today as well. We’ve been trying on the expedition nightwear since this morning.”

“Lucia is here...? And did you say expedition nightwear?”

“Yes, they seem perfect for nights on expedition, like that pillow squirrel-looking one... I mean, it’s outerwear that’s very warm and comfortable. We’ll be showing it off to you as well later.”

Indeed, Volf had said that he would propose to the captain that they adopt the sleepwear Dahlia had shown him. Currently, the squad wore what were called wearable sleeping bags during expeditions in wintertime. The idea was switching those out for expedition nightwear, which, with the use of a portable warm air circulator worn on the back or front—taking care not to get burned by it, of course—the knights would be warmer and able to move about comfortably.

But Lucia had really outdone herself. Dahlia couldn’t believe she had already finished making the sample nightwear on such short notice. She could bet they even came in different colors and designs. I can’t wait to see them.

As Dahlia was admiring her friend, Ivano dropped his voice low and said, “Chairwoman, is this perhaps something I haven’t been made aware of?”

“U-Um, well...”

Dahlia faced Ivano’s stiff smile and explained as quickly as she could that she had asked Lucia if she knew of any wearable blankets or nightclothes, which had then become the expedition nightwear.

Ivano nodded in understanding. “Right, now I know why Forto was grinning so much yesterday. He came by my house with a case of stout, so I thought something might have happened...”

“Mr. Forto...?”

Forto, the guildmaster of the Tailors’ Guild and a viscount, had personally hand delivered Ivano a case of stout. It must have been a very valuable stout.

“I’m sure Ms. Lucia told him to keep hush about it. Well, since this involves improving the nightclothes the squad wears on expeditions, it’s more of a clothing project than a magical tool one. We can leave this Forto and Ms. Lucia.”

Dahlia nodded in agreement, and then they went up to the third floor. They walked down the hallway, then Dorino opened the doors, and they stepped into the large conference room. Inside were Captain Grato, Vice-Captain Griswald, a middle-aged knight holding a quill pen who was presumably there as a scribe, and Head Treasurer Gildo.

The atmosphere was congenial as they exchanged greetings and then took their seats.

“Thank you all for taking time out of your busy schedules to come here today. I would like to start us off by discussing this year’s plan regarding the adoption of magical tools and weapons.”

Griswald led the meeting. In his gentle voice, he explained the contents of the documents distributed to everyone.

According to the documents, the Order was planning on ordering more toe socks, drying insoles, camp stoves, and portable warm air circulators this year.

Relieved by that, Dahlia flipped to the second page, which laid out a plan for additional Galeforce Bows to be made, bringing the total number in the squad to six.

She felt a little reassured by the note made in the reference column, which stated that the bows would increase long-range attacks the Beast Hunters could launch against monsters.

Anything that helps the knights fight as safely as they can, she thought as she listened to Griswald’s explanation.

Gildo spoke next. “I have prepared a proposal to use the Order of Beast Hunters’ surplus funds from the end of last year for magical tools, weapons, food supplies, and horses for this quarter.”

The words “surplus funds” made Dahlia lift her head. She had heard that the squad did not have a lot of room in their budget, but perhaps they had encountered fewer monsters at the end of last year?

But Volf and the others were frequently sent off to fight monsters, and there was even that battle against a wyvern... Her unspoken question seemed to have shown on her face. Gildo turned to look at her.

“There were as many monster appearances as in an average year, but the duration of expeditions were shorter in the latter half of the year. Furthermore, there were no injuries severe or worse among the Beast Hunters, which meant there were no condolence expenses.”

The fact that the expeditions were now taking less time possibly meant they had faster horses now. Also, since knights were treated with healing magic and potions, “injuries severe or worse” indicated knights who could no longer fight or who had died.

The fact that there were neither meant everyone had come back from expedition safe and sound. Dahlia was very happy to hear that.

“Additionally, there were no early retirees at the end of last year, and competent knights joined with the salary of an apprentice.”

“Though they’re a troublesome lot, those new recruits...” Grato said with a grimace.

He must have been referring to Bernigi and the other elder knights. Dahlia wasn’t sure what sort of face to make in response to that.

Jonas, who was sitting to her left, was examining his paperwork in silence. To her right, Ivano was writing out calculations in the margins of the budget documents. It seemed Dahlia was the only one unsettled by the remark. She kept her expression neutral and continued listening.

There were a few clarifying questions asked, but all in all, the meeting progressed smoothly.

Once they were finished discussing the agenda, Griswald stood up.

“Let us take a short recess. The Tailors’ Guild has provided us with samples of expedition nightwear, so we will have a presentation of those after the break.”

Soon, they would be seeing Lucia’s nightwear for expedition, the “pillow squirrel” garments.

As someone who had already seen and worn one, Dahlia would be able to sit back and relax as she watched the presentation. She sipped the tea that had been served to her as she thought about that.

Ivano had left the room for a moment, then came back and said, “Chairwoman, Ms. Lucia is waiting in the hallway.”

Dahlia thanked him and walked out of the room. Standing just outside the conference room was her green-haired friend in an ice-green dress.

“Dahlia...”

Lucia’s voice was oddly somber. Dahlia hadn’t expected her to excitedly call out her name or anything, but she sounded almost anxious about something.

Together, they walked to the end of the hallway and spoke in subdued voices.

“The Order of Beast Hunters contacted us asking if we could make that sleepwear for them to use on expeditions. With a note detailing they were planning on making a mass order. It was you who pitched the idea to them, right?”

“I’m sorry. I let Volf try it on, and he told the squad about it... Since the pajamas are comfortable and warm, I figured they might want to order some, but I didn’t think they would make a mass order...”

“Mass orders from you are pretty much standard anyway. Just like what happened with the toe socks.”

Despite her wish to deny it, she couldn’t. Lucia was absolutely right.

“But next time, at least give me a heads-up. I almost had a heart attack when Vice-Captain Griswald suddenly showed up at the Magical Garment Factory.”

“I’m sorry,” Dahlia said again, sincerely.

She remembered that when they were developing the toe socks and drying insoles, she had been similarly startled by Griswald’s sudden appearance at the Merchants’ Guild. She hated that she had made Lucia go through the same thing.

But her friend was different from her. Lucia smiled and clenched her fist tightly.

“You don’t have to apologize. I’m going to take advantage of this opportunity. In fact, I should be thanking you on behalf of the Magical Garment Factory!” Lucia’s face turned serious as she said, “Thank you for once again introducing us to a wonderful business opportunity, Chairwoman Rossetti.”

“...You are very welcome, Head Manager Fano,” Dahlia said, her expression also serious. “I hope we can continue conducting successful business together.”

They stared into each other’s faces for a moment until their shoulders began to shake. Lucia was the first to break and burst into laughter. She patted Dahlia on the shoulder.

“We’re hopeless. We’re not cut out for this kind of stuff.”

“We’ve only been doing this for less than a year. We can’t expect too much from ourselves.”

“That’s true. We’ll just have to keep trying to get used to it. Oh, about those expedition nightclothes—we not only tried to make them warm, but we also considered how to make them wearable outside. I made several types, so let me know if there’s one you especially like. I’ll make one for you and one for Sir Volf in your sizes as a thank-you.”

“Thanks. But I actually really like the one you gave me earlier.”

Even though it made her look like a pillow squirrel, it kept her warm and comfortable when she wore it around the tower when she was alone. Although, whenever a sudden visitor happened to stop by, she had to quickly take it off before answering the door.

“I think there might be something you’ll like even better than that one. Oh, it’s almost time. Let’s head back in for the presentation. Mr. Forto said not to spare any expense on these test pieces, so everyone at the factory went all out on them. Hope you enjoy!”

Lucia’s dayflower-blue eyes lit up and she smiled sunnily. Dahlia was even more excited to see how the nightwear had turned out.

The table and chairs of the conference room had been pushed back toward the walls, and the door to the adjoining room was open. The knights were probably going to change into the nightwear in there and then come into this room to show it off.

In the open space of the conference room stood Lucia, who began the presentation. “Thank you for your valuable time. We will now present the sample expedition nightwear created by the Magical Garment Factory.”

Diagonally behind her stood a man with green hair, who Dahlia assumed was from the Tailors’ Guild. He was the one handling the paperwork and taking notes. Lucia was the presenter, while he was assisting her.

The attendees took their seats to observe the nightwear.

“First, we present the basic expedition nightwear,” Lucia said.

The first knight to enter the room was Volf. He was wearing the clothes he’d worn at the tower just the other day—a loose one-piece garment made of a thick blanket material. There were buttons that could be fastened around the neck, armholes, and legholes, and a portable warm air circulator was secured to his back.

It was great for both sleeping or relaxing, but the camel color indeed made him look like a pillow squirrel. In terms of Dahlia’s previous world, he looked just like a flying squirrel.

“It can be slept in, just like a sleeping bag, and the loose fit and dolman sleeves allow the portable warm air circulator to blow warm air all over, from front to back. We suggest wearing the belt with it when on the move to make it easier to walk in.”

Lucia gestured toward a sleeve, and Volf raised one arm up. The baggy fabric made the sleeve look more like a patagium stretching from forelegs to backlegs. But it was that very roominess that made it so comfortable.

“What do you think, Gildo?” Grato asked earnestly. “It’s very warm, so it should keep the squad from getting too cold on expeditions.”

“...It is quite...visually striking...” Gildo said. He wasn’t laughing, but his statement was broken up with odd pauses.

“Next is a garment that I believe will keep the knights from standing out in forests and grassy fields.”

Dorino strode in from the adjoining room in his expedition nightwear. His garment, in contrast to Volf’s, was patterned with various shades of green and brown, almost resembling what was called camouflage in Dahlia’s previous world. This garment also came with an oversized hood that completely covered Dorino’s dark blue hair.

“This is a pattern from Ehrlichia. It makes the wearer hard to see in areas with a lot of greenery.”

“I would very much like to try wearing that on an expedition,” said Griswald. From the twinkle in his greenish blue eyes, it was evident that this garment had piqued his interest.

Dorino raised both his arms to spread the fabric out wide at the sides. Yet again, Dahlia couldn’t help but be reminded of a flying squirrel.

“Next, since the first sample resembles a pillow squirrel, we attempted to make other garments that mimic other animals and monsters.”

Volf and Dorino returned to the adjoining room, and two other knights took their place, one who was wearing a garment that was light brown, and the other reddish-brown.

At the sight of them, Dahlia clamped her mouth shut to silence herself. She screamed internally. Wait, Lucia! Why?!

“With these, we went even further to capture the look of a pillow squirrel, with the abdominal coloration, a tail, and ears on the hood!”

Kirk, who was wearing the nightwear Lucia described, spread his arms out wide with a smile on his face. The back of the garment was light brown, and the abdomen was pure white. There was a pair of cute ears attached to the hood and a big, fluffy tail in the rear. It looked every bit like a flying squirrel costume. It was truly adorable. But wait. What good would it do the Beast Hunters to camouflage themselves as flying squirrels on expeditions?

As she puzzled over that, she turned to her side. The notepad in Ivano’s hands was trembling in his hands.

“This other one here, at the request of the squad, is meant to be a red bear! The leather is bear hide dyed red. The fur lining has been sewn into sections to keep the garment easy to move in. It’s a garment that’s just perfect to protect against the winter cold!”

Next to Kirk, Randolph raised his arms above his head. He had the largest build of all the Beast Hunters. When he imitated a red bear, his towering frame made him genuinely intimidating.

There was also an added element of realism: If a red bear were to strike a menacing pose, it would look exactly like that. Honestly, it was frightening to witness.

“A perfect bear...” Jonas muttered to Dahlia’s left.

Please don’t say that when it’s taking all my willpower to keep my face straight.

“Those two could also lure in other monsters. Maybe we should test them out.”

“I think it’s more likely that any monster will run away as soon as they see it.”

It sounded like Grato and Gildo had opposing opinions. Dahlia struggled to decide which was more probable.

“Now, next is a garment that is made with actual monster skin.”

“Here I come!”

A voice called out from the next room, then Dorino emerged, walking with a peculiar, slithering gait. Dahlia no longer had to hold herself back from laughing. Her blood ran cold when she saw that green figure.

The one-piece garment was a sleek, streamlined design, the tail dragging on the floor was longer than those of the other garments, and there was nothing cute about it.

“The exterior of this waterproof expedition nightwear is made with forest serpent skin. We kept the color as is for this one, but it can be dyed other colors as well. We tried to make it look as snakelike as possible!”

Dorino turned around, then lifted his tail and wriggled it around.

Grato folded his arms together tightly, Gildo rubbed his brow, and the middle-aged knight next to them fell into a coughing fit.

“What a very...clever design.”

Ivano’s voice sounded very far away.

The garment was made with forest serpent skin, as was clear by its appearance. Dahlia had seen it used as material many times before, but seeing the realistic snakelike skin texture made her nearly freeze up with fear, though there was also a part of her that was fascinated by the purely technical side of the hard work that must have gone into sewing and working with such a material.

“I’ll keep my distance, but I do think that would be useful for luring a forest serpent as well,” Griswald said.

“You want to lure in forest serpents?”

“Forest serpents have expansive territories. Even when they injure people on the highway, it can be hard to find the serpents afterward.”

The best thing for both parties would be if the serpents never approached highways or villages, but that would probably never happen.

“Ideally, we would find them when they’re still small, then attack them from afar with Galeforce Bows or magical lances.”

“Wouldn’t you be able to take down a small forest serpent even without using a magical lance, Vice-Captain?” Dorino asked. “You could just stab them with your lance.”

“Simply stabbing them is no guarantee they will die! The safest way is to submerge their heads underwater until you know they’re dead!”

Griswald’s voice was uncharacteristically forceful. Dahlia was surprised to hear him speak that way.

Kirk must have been surprised as well. His eyes were wide as he asked, “Vice-Captain, why do you have such a hatred for reptiles?”

“Very well, I’ll explain. First, those cold eyes of theirs. Those are the eyes of a merciless creature.”

“Well, I think that applies to both reptiles and monsters...”

“They have cold bodies, not to mention their slimy skin and scales.”

“But they have cute, round eyes, and being cold is just their natural trait. I think that lizards actually feel quite nice to...touch...” Kirk trailed off.

Griswald was staring him down with his blue eyes. His glare was chilling. It wasn’t quite like a snake staring down a frog, but since Kirk currently looked like a pillow squirrel, it made him look even more pitiable.

“I understand that may be your personal preference, but I beg to differ.”

“Have you disliked reptiles since you were a child, Griswald?” Grato asked.

“...Yes, I began to hate them when I was in primary school.”

“Did you get bitten by a snake, or did a frog maybe jump onto and cling to your face?”

The vice-captain laughed hollowly. “Yes. I will never forget the experience. As we were crossing over the mountains, a deluge made our carriage veer off into a valley. There, I joined the guards to fight a large swarm of poison frogs. We managed to fend them off and resume our trip home, but then we came across a forest serpent. And then—I loathe to remember it.”

Everyone fell silent at the bitterness in Griswald’s voice. Dahlia couldn’t even bring herself to ask anything.

“So everyone with you, did they...?” one of the knights said quietly, his voice filled with grief.

Griswald shook his head. “No, everyone was fine. It was not a full-grown serpent. That might have been why a child such as myself was the perfect size for it.”

“Vice-Captain, do you mean, you were...?”

Randolph was the first to imagine what had happened. He turned to look at Griswald with pain in his chestnut eyes.

“Yes. It swallowed me whole, and I killed it by stabbing it from inside with my sword. I had multiple bone fractures and nearly suffocated, which I believe triggered my late-blooming magic. My magic increased by forty percent. Perhaps I should be thankful to the serpent for that, though I cannot say that I feel that way in the least.”

Dahlia tried not to imagine it, but she couldn’t help herself. A shudder passed over her.

The others in the room seemed to be imagining it as well. The Beast Hunters looked grave, some had expressions of pity, and Ivano was covering his eyes with his hand. Lucia was hugging herself.

“Vice-Captain, I’m truly sorry for asking you about that so lightly,” Kirk apologized.

“Anyone would have an aversion to reptiles after an experience like that,” Grato added. “Griswald, you can stay back next time we run into a serpent.”

“I cannot do that, Captain Grato. As a Beast Hunter, it is my duty to eradicate every last one.”

Dorino, still dressed as a forest serpent, put a hand to his chin. “Late-blooming magic after getting eaten by a snake, huh? Forty percent is really something...”

“Dorino, don’t even think about trying it. Let it go,” Randolph told him.

“Like I would! I’d be lucky to survive getting eaten in the first place!” Dorino retorted.

Getting eaten by a serpent to trigger late-blooming magic would certainly be unrealistic to replicate.

“Um, may I continue...?” Lucia asked hesitantly.

“Yes, apologies, Head Manager Fano. Please continue,” Grato said.

The presentation had gone a bit offtrack, but they were finally getting back to the matter at hand.

Lucia took a big breath, then called out to the adjoining room, “And now for the final garment! Sir Volf, if you please!”

Volf emerged from the next room wearing a pillow squirrel-type expedition nightwear. However, this one had long, shiny, black fur. It looked so fuzzy that Dahlia wanted to run her hands through it.

“This one makes use of real black wolf fur. It boasts optimal protection against cold, making it second to none for winterwear! Its design is incredibly light and nonrestricting.”

As if they had rehearsed this beforehand, Volf performed a backflip. He landed without making a sound, though Dahlia suspected that was due not to the garment but to Volf’s natural physical ability.

“I like this one. The height of winter and snowing mountains have been hard on my shoulders...” Grato said.

“Though it might be a bit much for the budget...” Gildo replied.

In reality, with fur as luxuriant and beautiful as that, it might be better to call it a high-end coat.

“Sir Volf, you look awesome!”

“Volf, that suits you very well.”

“Yeah, you look real good. You know, why don’t you just wear that all the time?”

“Thanks, guys. And do I sense hostility, Dorino?”

Dahlia listened to the knights’ banter with a smile.

“Ms. Lucia, that does look very warm. It’s also an inconspicuous color, so I believe it would be an excellent choice for those on the nightwatch,” Jonas said.

Lucia broke into a full smile at his praise. “Thank you very much! It truly is very warm.”

Dahlia was reminded nostalgically of the stories of werewolves from her past life. This world might have been like a fantasy world to her, but there were no stories of people turning into werewolves under a full moon. She hadn’t even heard of a werewolf as a type of monster here.

“What do you think, Dahlia?” Volf asked her with an easy smile.

He had approached her before she even realized it.

Dahlia took a look at the lush, black fur and the oversized hood with pointed ears. The insides of the ears had white fur sewn into them, adding to the realism.

Within the black hood was a beautiful, fair countenance with glimmering golden eyes. Once again the word werewolf flashed across her mind. She clenched her fists on her lap. That was an inconsiderate thought to have about Volf. After all, it did look quite good on him.

“...I-It’s innovative, and I think it looks nice on you.”

“Thanks!”

As soon as Volf smiled at her, the captain called his name. He answered and quickly headed over to him.

Dahlia exhaled deeply. Good job, face muscles! She closed her mouth and composed her face when Jonas leaned over and whispered, “Lord Volf almost looks like a nightdog, don’t you agree?”

“Ah... Yes, you’re right,” Dahlia agreed.

It was better to think of him as a nightdog than a werewolf. The fur was a little long, but it wasn’t impossible to see it as resembling a nightdog. All it needed was a thin tail.

As she thought of a nightdog wagging its tail, she started to smile. Perhaps Jonas was thinking the same. He turned to her with a grin.

“What do you think? Does the Green Tower need a guard dog?”

Dahlia was unable to restrain her coughing fit.

Once the presentation was over, the table and chairs were pushed back into their original positions, and then the attendees had another round of discussion.

Volf and the other knights who had modeled the expedition nightwear headed outside to test how the garments felt while running and swinging a sword, since they performed those actions even at night while on expeditions.

Grato picked up one of the garments. “It might be a good idea to make our current winter blankets into something like this to be worn to bed. If we can combine them with the portable warm air circulators, so much the better.”

Everyone present nodded in agreement. Although some of the designs had forced them to stifle laughter, when it came to warmth and mobility, they were better than ordinary blankets.

“With these garments on, even if something happened while we were sleeping, we would be able to respond immediately,” Griswald added. “After all, some monsters and animals appear at night.”

“Do monsters and animals target the squad?” Lucia asked.

Grato shook his head. “In the past, they were attracted by the smell of blood from the wounded, but these days they come after our food scraps. They’re also attracted by the smell of our food and alcohol, not to mention the smells that inevitably come about during long expeditions...”

“Dangerous monsters seldom approach, and we have lookouts, so it is not such a serious issue,” Griswald added. “Bats and moths are the biggest nuisance. Many bats will suck blood, and it can be difficult to stop the bleeding from one of their bites. Even small moths can carry poison, so those can cause some nasty itching and sores.”

“Not even insect repellent solves everything. And bracelets that guard against poisons aren’t very effective against some species of moths.”

Dahlia recalled the conversation she’d had with Volf and Fermo about giant moths. Just having the moth’s powder fall on one’s head could cause itching intense enough to make them want to pull their own hair out. Furthermore, there were many species of moths and just as many types of poison, so they weren’t something to be too careful of.

“The best way to deal with them would be to kill them or stuff them into a bag the moment they enter a tent, but it’s hard to move quickly when you’ve got a blanket on top of you. And then there are the forest moles that poke you from underground...” Grato grumbled.

“Are forest moles dangerous?” Dahlia asked.

Forest moles were omnivores of medium size. She had never heard of them attacking humans.

“Forest moles are very curious creatures. Ones that are not familiar with humans will burrow through the tents to nibble on the knights’ feet,” Griswald answered her.

“And those bites can get infected easily...” Grato added.

“Not just that, but they have a paralyzing effect too, which means if they bite a knight’s feet or legs, he can be immobilized for a time. We have medicine for it, but I would like for us to have a way to prevent it from happening in the first place.”

“Yes, that makes sense...” Dahlia said.

So they were dangerous creatures. From what she’d seen in her bestiary, Dahlia had thought they were a bit cute, but in reality, they were anything but.

Griswald continued. “With that added benefit of being a countermeasure against those invading animals, I believe the expedition nightwear will make for effective bedding. Although, bearing in mind ease of movement when using a weapon, I believe the nightwatch should continue wearing the overcoats they currently do.”

“Agreed. We should be able to introduce them right away as bedding.”

“If we also use them to disguise ourselves as monsters, it will make the squad harder to target for monsters that rely on their sight.”

“But wouldn’t that mimicry make it dangerous to use Galeforce Bows? It might be hard to see our allies in the forest.”

Lucia leaned forward to chime in. “What if we make them reversible, then? The exterior can be a monster pattern, and the interior can be a color not found in forests or grassy plains. We can keep things economical by using the same blankets we have now that are orange and other bright colors.”

“I see—then they can be used both ways. The injured knights and priests can wear the monster disguises and stay in the back.”

Everyone looked satisfied with that idea, and the conversation continued on to using the expedition nightwear as disguises.

“Head Manager Fano, where did the idea for the mimicry nightwear come from?” Grato asked.

“Well, one of our factory employees was raised on a sheep farm. She said that one day, a stray wolf appeared and killed their watchdog. She donned a bear pelt and chased after the wolf, and it ran away.”

“Is that right? Fascinating.”

“I would like to test out that type of nightwear on monsters. It might be useful for corralling our foes on missions,” Griswald said, speaking as if he had given this a lot of thought.

The idea of the Beast Hunters disguising themselves as monsters to corral them sounded a bit complicated, but if it made missions easier, then that would be great.

“From the samples we saw today, would you say the red bear was the most frightening?” Griswald asked.

“No, it has to be the Green King,” Grato disagreed. “A forest serpent appearing would have everyone scrambling to get away.”

“In that case, the safe thing to do would be to have the injured and priests wear the forest serpent nightwear.”

Forest serpents were terrifying, but it seemed in this case, their skin would protect humans. Dahlia was grateful for that, but she had mixed feelings about that snake nightwear.

“I’d like to have some reversible nightwear for our next expedition. Can we ask you to make more samples for us, Head Manager Fano?” Grato asked.

“Certainly. So, one side will be the monster disguise, and the other side will be— Huh?”

Lucia stopped speaking and stood frozen. Her dayflower blue gaze was pointed toward the window. Outside were Volf and the other knights, wearing the nightwear they had just modeled.

“Head Manager Fano, what is it? Ah, I see they’re trying out the nightwear.”

“Um, why is Sir Randolph holding Sir Kirk?”

“He’s holding him...?”

Apprehension and worry thrummed through the room. Everyone stood up and walked to the window. Outside, Randolph lifted Kirk up with both arms, then lowered him to his right with his face pointed intensely at the sky.

“Wha?!”

“Huh?!”

There were several loud cries of surprise.

“He threw him...”

“Even with Randolph throwing him, he’s coming right back down.”

Kirk was launched up fairly high, but he soon fell straight down to be caught by Volf and Dorino. For a moment, Kirk had spread out his nightwear like a flying squirrel spreading its patagium, but humans were heavier than squirrels. Gliding in midair wasn’t possible for him.

They were probably just goofing around as they tested out the garments’ ranges of motion. At least, that was Dahlia’s assumption, but the expressions of all four knights outside were surprisingly serious.

As the knights were discussing something among themselves, a young man with ink black hair came running over to them—then tumbled and fell.

“Is that Lord Carmine? Is he all right?” Griswald asked worriedly.

“I’m willing to bet he fell over laughing once he got a closer look at them,” Gildo responded lightly.

Dahlia had felt a moment of concern for Carmine’s well-being, but it seemed he had just been startled by the knights’ outfits.

“I requested combat boots from Vice-Director Carmine, so I asked him to come take a look at the expedition nightwear too. He said that he had another meeting during the presentation, but he must’ve come as soon as it ended.”

As Grato spoke, everyone continued to stare at the knights outside the window. Carmine had gotten back to his feet and was now listening to something Kirk was saying to him. His face was thoughtful and he nodded as he listened. Then, Kirk took off his pillow squirrel-style nightwear and handed it to Carmine.

“Is Lord Carmine going to put that on?”

“No, he’s... He’s opening that magically sealed box.”

Carmine opened the magically sealed box he carried with him and pulled out a round, white object that looked like bone.

“That’s a skybat skull,” Jonas said readily.

Skybat bones were said to be a material that could be used to aid flight. However, the effect was weak, and the bones themselves weren’t very strong. Dahlia had heard that they were used to equip dragoons, but surely he didn’t intend to—

“What is he going to do?” Lucia asked, her expression curious as she stood on her tiptoes.

Carmine spread the expedition nightwear out on the ground, and Volf and the other knights stepped back. Carmine rolled up his sleeves and picked up the skybat skull with both hands. An expression of pure focus, more intense than Dahlia had ever seen him make, crossed his features—then melted into a gentle smile.

“Ah!”

For a split second, the air around Carmine shimmered pale blue. Dorino tottered on his feet, and Randolph held him up.

Griswald seemed concerned by that. He opened the window wide. Fortunately, Dorino was quick to recover his balance. The magic hadn’t affected him too strongly.

“Master Dahlia, was that enchantment magic?” Jonas asked.

“Yes, it appears Vice-Director Carmine enchanted the nightwear with the skybat skull. I believe he enchanted it with flight support, but I cannot say for certain,” Dahlia replied, unable to look away from Carmine.

The white skybat skull was nowhere to be seen. She guessed it had been reduced to dust, used up entirely by that singular enchantment. How much magic did he channel into it? What kind of enchantment did he perform? She wanted to ask him all the details later.

Kirk put the nightwear back on, hopped around a few times, then walked over to Randolph and spread his arms out wide. Randolph nodded, then lifted Kirk and once again threw him up high. It looked like Kirk spent just a little bit longer in the air this time.

“Even with the enchantment, he still can’t fly,” Grato sighed. “I wonder if it’d actually be more effective for Kirk to use his own air magic to support himself instead.”

“Ah, now Dorino is bringing out a ladder...” Griswald muttered.

“Should we be worried?”

“Jumping from a height of two or three stories shouldn’t put a scratch on those knights.”

Dahlia’s first thought was that they should stop them, but on reflection, all the knights of the Order of Beast Hunters had exceptional athletic ability. She shouldn’t use herself as a benchmark.

Kirk swiftly ascended the ladder to the third floor of the building, then stood on top of the balcony’s railing. Everyone watched through open windows.

“I’m going to fly!” Kirk called out gleefully.

He kicked off the railing and whirled through the air. All eyes were on him as he swooped diagonally downward.

The light brown fur of the pillow squirrel—or an imitation of one, at least—fluttered as it glided through the blue sky beyond the castle balcony. Kirk glided over the other knights and then landed softly at the edge of the training grounds. His hood had come off before he landed, but his tail was flopping around.

“...He is a pillow squirrel,” the captain of the Order of Beast Hunters declared quietly.

“...Indeed,” the vice-captain agreed, just as quiet.

The middle-aged knight stood with his mouth agape, while Gildo’s was a flat line. Neither of them moved.

“Um... I suppose the design turned out to be worth the effort?” Lucia said, her statement turning into a question at the end.

“...Hngh!”

The young man beside her put a hand over his mouth, and his shoulders began to shake. Ivano had a stiff smile on his face. Jonas’s expression was not only blank, but he was even trying to conceal his presence.

Dahlia folded her hands tightly in front of her stomach. Someone, anyone. Please say something.

“Ah ha ha ha!”

Beneath the wintry sky, someone had broken the silence with a laugh loud enough to be heard from the third floor. Kirk had run back to the group, where everyone was clapping him on the shoulders and roaring with laughter.

That seemed to have broken the tension. Laughter also bubbled up in the conference room.

“That wasn’t the outcome I was expecting, but if they can pull it off, maybe that nightwear can be used for scouting and getting a lay of the land during expeditions,” Grato said.

Griswald nodded. “If that’s possible, then it will be easier to form our strategies on missions. We will have to take into account the weather and the surrounding monsters to prioritize the safety of the one flying, however.”

What they said made sense. The garment seemed suited for aerial reconnaissance. It also seemed useful for fleeing monsters, but gliding was not the same as flying, so it would likely be difficult. As Dahlia considered that, she noticed the movement of light brown fur in the corner of her vision.

Outside, Kirk was once again climbing up the ladder. His intention seemed to be to jump from an even higher position. The pillow squirrel nightwear perfectly complemented his radiant smile.

Carmine held the ladder steady while the other three knights dispersed across the training grounds with smiles on their faces and their arms spread wide in case Kirk lost his balance. They all wore nightwear that disguised them as one beast or another—Volf was a black wolf, Randolph a red bear, and Dorino a forest serpent. It was a rather surreal scene.

Lucia’s blue gaze was trained on Kirk. She must have been moved by the new possibility that had opened up for her own creation. Her pale scarlet lips moved imperceptibly, and she spoke so quietly that Dahlia didn’t pick up on what she said.

“...I think he’s ready to be released into the forest...”

Next to them, Jonas began to cough violently.

The Chairman from Išrana

“Chairwoman, the chairman of the Haldard Company will be arriving shortly,” Ivano said.

Dahlia nodded. “Understood.”

They were at Volf’s residence. Since Dahlia lived alone in the Green Tower, she was using the Scalfarotto family’s villa for the Rossetti Trading Company’s address.

Today she was to have her first meeting with a chairman from a foreign country. They had received permission to use a drawing room at the villa in order to give the chairman a suitable welcome. Volf was training at the castle.

According to the document Ivano had given her, the Haldard Company was a large company based in Išrana that had dozens of branches in three countries. They dealt in a broad range of products, from various gems to materials from monsters, including kingsnakes and sand lizards.

“Is there anything I need to be mindful of when I meet with Chairman Haldard?” Dahlia asked.

“In Išrana, men who hold leadership positions, such as chairmen or bosses, rarely bow their heads to others. It might appear arrogant, but that is normal for men in leadership. Also, you may notice a difference in how they treat you as a woman. Men keep a certain distance between themselves and women, or rather, they have a strong sense of duty to protect them.”

“I see.”

It was a good idea to be prepared for the men to act differently toward her as a woman. It was a difference that came about due to their countries’ different histories and cultures.

“Also, this was not written in the documents, but Chairman Yusef Haldard is the second husband of Master Jonas’s mother.”

That was not surprising news to Dahlia, as she had already heard that from elsewhere. However, it would be a lie to say that it caused her no misgivings.

“Um, should we be concerned about the possibility that Chairman Haldard will accidentally run into Master Jonas in this house?” Dahlia asked, thinking that it might be a problem if the two bumped into each other while Jonas was here on business for the Scalfarotto Arms Works.

“That should pose no issues,” Ivano replied breezily. “They do have some contact with each other, and Chairman Haldard will be meeting with Lord Guido while he is here anyway. Plus, it seems that Chairman Haldard cares quite a bit about Master Jonas. Each time he comes to Ordine, he always visits the Scalfarotto family’s estate and brings a gift.”

Jonas’s mother had divorced his father and returned to Išrana. She had then remarried to a wealthy merchant, so he did not have to worry about her. That was what she had heard from Jonas.

Dahlia recalled her own mother with a pang of discomfort. Does Haldard’s care for Jonas come from compassion for him, or because he is his wife’s son? That was merely one of a number of such unanswerable questions that came to mind. She dismissed the thought. It was inconsiderate to both Jonas and Haldard. What she needed to focus on right now was not offending their guests.

Today, Dahlia wore a long, moss-green dress with a collar, with a white-beige long-sleeved jacket on top. Her hair was tied back, she wore a bracelet on her right wrist and a ring on the middle finger of her left hand, and she had on her snowflake earrings, screwed on tight so they wouldn’t fall. When meeting with business associates from Išrana, it was best to dress with little skin showing and wear precious metals. That was what Gabriella had taught her, and so she had dressed accordingly.

A short while later, there was a knock, and Ivano opened the door. Two men entered the room. They both had dark brown skin, one had sand-colored hair and the other black, and they both had dark eyes. The older man with sandy hair had a short beard, while the younger man had no facial hair. They wore loose-fitting, sand-colored long tunics that were typical of Išrana, and pants of the same color. Around their waists they wore sashes of bright saffron and madder.

“Thank you very much for coming. I am Dahlia Rossetti, the chairwoman of the Rossetti Trading Company.”

“We are happy to welcome you here. I am Ivano Mercadante, the vice-chairman.”

The black-haired younger man replied to their greetings with a smile. “Thank you for inviting us here today. My name is Mitona, interpreter for the Haldard Company. This is Chairman Yusef Haldard.”

“Thank you. Very much,” Haldard greeted them haltingly.

Ivano shook hands with Haldard and then with Mitona. To Dahlia, the guests only nodded. This was another custom that Gabriella had told her about; men from Išrana avoided physical contact with women.

“This is our compact magical stove. We present it to you to mark the beginning of our doing business together.”

“Thank you. We would also like to present to you magical cores of kingsnakes, in celebration of our first meeting. We would be happy if you accepted.”

Each party placed an envelope on top of the low table. The actual products were being held elsewhere; what they exchanged was a voucher for them.

It was a custom in Išrana to give a simple product that one’s company sold as a way to wish for the future prosperity of their businesses. Dahlia felt a little insecure about whether compact magical stoves were equal in value to kingsnake magical cores.

After they exchanged their gifts, a maid of the Scalfarotto family served them green tea. Interestingly enough, she also placed a sugar bowl and spoon on the low table.

“Please, help yourself,” Ivano said.

“Thank you. Excuse me.”

Mitona took a sip of green tea, then placed the teacup in front of Haldard. Next, he took another teacup and placed it in front of himself. Into that teacup, he happily scooped three heaping spoonfuls of sugar. Dahlia stared as he did so, thinking to herself that the tea would be much too sweet, when Mitona turned to her and spoke.

“I must apologize. I was not checking to see if it was poisoned. Our chairman is very sensitive to hot drinks.”

He apologized for taste-testing Haldard’s tea, but that was not what had caught Dahlia’s attention. She had been amazed at how much sugar he had placed in the tea.

“No, um, that’s not— Do you have a liking for sweets, Mr. Mitona?”

“Yes, very much so.”

The young man’s eyes squinted into a smile. Dahlia glanced at Ivano, who nodded at her. Later, they would send a box of sweet desserts to the inn where their guests were lodging.

Haldard said something in Išranic to Mitona. The young man nodded as he listened, then turned his dark eyes toward Dahlia.

“I have heard that you are an exceptionally skilled magical toolmaker, Chairwoman Rossetti. Should you require any monster materials from Išrana besides kingsnake, please do let us know.”

Kingsnakes were monsters that inhabited the desert. It was said they were capable of swallowing a human whole who had carelessly stumbled into their territory. Despite being monsters, they loved alcohol and would drink themselves into a stupor if presented with a vase filled with alcohol. It was with that vase that one could catch or kill the monster.

Shed kingsnake skin was one of the materials used to make the impact absorption material that Dahlia was currently involved with. So far, she had been procuring kingsnake, sand lizard, and other monster materials that came from Išrana through the Scalfarotto family. From now on, they planned to purchase the materials directly themselves, though it would probably be desirable to consult with Jonas as well. After all, he was the head of the Scalfarotto Arms Works and the stepson of Haldard himself.

Or maybe it’s better not to bother him with it and say nothing. While she was stuck, unable to decide what was the best course of action, Ivano replied in her place.

“Thank you very much. We would be happy to consult with you on that matter when the need arises. By the way, and please excuse my ignorance, but in Išrana, do adventurers go out into the desert to collect the shed kingsnake skins? Or are the snakes lured with large vases of alcohol?”

“No, the employees of our company ride wyverns to catch them.”

“They catch them?” Dahlia parroted, surprised by Mitona’s answer.

“Yes. Our company has two wyverns that are used in the collection of kingsnake skins. The wyvern riders use fishing rods to hook the skins from the air.”

“They hook the skin with fishing rods... Is that not dangerous?”

“Not at all. Kingsnakes do not attack wyverns, and they have no attachment to their shed skin. And the fishing rods have very long lines to catch the skins. If the kingsnake coils around the line, the rider can break it quickly and make their escape.”

It sounded like a method that posed little danger to either the wyvern riders or the snakes. Kingsnake skin was a valuable material, so Dahlia was happy to hear that it could be procured in a safe way.

“You have two wyverns at your disposal to collect kingsnake skin...?” Ivano’s dark blue eyes were wide. He was clearly more surprised by that part.

“They are smaller, sand-colored wyverns that are not suited for transport. But they work well for our purposes.”

It was amazing that they, as a company and not a nation, owned their own wyverns. They were not called a large company for their number of branches alone.

Mitona and Haldard exchanged a few more words in Išranic. After nodding a few times, Mitona turned back toward Ivano.

“We understand that the Rossetti Trading Company also manufactures compact magical lanterns. Do you sell lanterns with colored glass as well?”

“Yes, we make lanterns in red, blue, green, and other colors, as well as in different shapes and styles. We even sell lanterns with painted illustrations. Would you like to see some?”

“Yes, that would be most welcome. We are considering purchasing one hundred lanterns.”

“Thank you very much,” Ivano said brightly.

A deal was being struck during their first meeting with each other. Dahlia was pleased about that, but she felt restless at the fact that she hadn’t participated much in the conversation.

Since Haldard and Mitona were planning to sojourn in Ordine for more than a month, they wrapped up their conversation by planning to meet again over a meal if their schedules allowed it. The meeting was ending before Dahlia’s nerves had the opportunity to relax.

“Well then, we look forward to doing business with you,” Mitona said as he stood up.

He waited to pull out Haldard’s chair, but the older man remained seated. His dark eyes were focused on Dahlia.

“Chairwoman Rossetti. Talk. With you.”

“Of course. What would you like to discuss?”

“Alone. Please.”

Dahlia hesitated for a few seconds, unsure of what to do. There were only two things she could imagine him wanting: to have a private word between chairpersons or to request for an introduction to someone. But if this was a business matter, then she honestly was not confident that she would be able to competently handle the conversation without Ivano.

However, when she saw the serious look on Haldard’s face, she knew she couldn’t refuse. If she couldn’t make her own judgment call, then she would just apologize and call in Ivano. It was better than overextending herself.

“Ivano, please wait in the hall,” she said.

“Certainly. I will leave this here, Chairwoman.”

Ivano placed a freezing bangle in front of Dahlia. She wondered when he had prepared that. It was an enchanted bracelet for purposes of self-defense, capable of freezing the arms and legs of an assailant.

She worried that the bracelet would offend Haldard and Mitona, but neither one reacted. She hadn’t read about it in her books about nobles or business, but perhaps this was considered normal by Išrana’s standards.

Once Ivano and Mitona left, the room became dreadfully quiet.

“Chairwoman Rossetti— No, Madam Dahlia Rossetti. Request. For you.”

“What can I help you with?”

Haldard stood up and stepped away from his chair. He circled around the low table and came to a stop close to Dahlia. Then, he shifted the bottom of his sand-colored tunic aside, got down on one knee, and bowed his head deeply.

Earlier, Ivano had said that men in leadership positions in Išrana almost never bowed their heads. Yet this chairman of a company that had dozens of branches in three countries and even owned their own wyverns was bowing to her, the chairwoman of a small company and a woman. She couldn’t understand why.

Flustered, Dahlia stood up. Haldard kept his head bowed as he continued to speak.

“Jonas Goodwin Haldard, my wife’s son, my son. Look after. Please.”

“Master Jonas?”

The man before her was the second husband of Jonas’s mother. But she did not understand what he meant by asking her to look after Jonas as his son.

“If Jonas...in danger, or trouble. If it can help, then I give. As much gold, kingsnakes, as I can.” His speech was halting, but his tone was very sincere.

It was a request that would bring not one copper coin’s worth of benefit to him or his company. Rather, even to his own detriment, he wished only for Jonas’s safety. She found that just a little puzzling, but when her gaze fell to the hem of his tunic on the floor, it clicked.

At that moment, she knew that this man was trying to be a father to Jonas. Regardless of their lack of blood relation.

“Please stand, Chairman Haldard. There is nothing you need to give me. Master Jonas is a colleague of mine. We do whatever we can to help each other out.”

“Jonas. Chairman Rossetti. Colleague?”

“Well... Master Jonas and I are both advisors to the Order of Beast Hunters, and he is an important colleague to me.”

Dahlia tried to explain while choosing her words carefully. She wished that her status as someone who had reincarnated into this world had come with the ability to understand all its languages, but Dahlia did not know a single word of Išranic.

Haldard finally stood and then cocked his head to the side. “...Important colleague... Friend... Comrade, female friend, close friend?”

Haldard switched from Ordinato to Ehrlichian, trying his best to reach a mutual understanding. Unfortunately, Dahlia was not proficient in Ehrlichian either. She decided to try her best to explain using simple Ordinato words.

“Master Jonas is a very important and dear friend of mine, so we support each other. Although, so far, Master Jonas has helped me much more than I have him.”

“Jonas has...stern face. I worry. No friends.”

The reason his face appeared stern was likely that he had to keep it impassive as a guard and attendant. When he was not on duty, he did smile and occasionally even joked. And above all, he had Guido as a best friend.

“There is no need to worry. Even though he looks stern while working, there are also many times when he smiles, and he certainly has close friends.”

Her answer seemed to reassure him. He let out a sigh of relief.

“Madam Rossetti. Thank you. I...relieved.”

Haldard smiled so widely Dahlia could see his white teeth. She smiled back.

Although they didn’t resemble each other in the slightest, for some reason, she thought of her father, Carlo.

Ivano went out into the hallway with Mitona. Once they closed the door, they couldn’t hear anything from inside the room. He wasn’t worried about Haldard acting untowardly to Dahlia, but he had not expected the man to ask for them to be alone.

“Mr. Mercadante, please do not be concerned. I believe the chairman wishes to speak to her about his son, Mr. Jonas.”

“Is that right? We have much to thank Master Jonas for.”

“Mr. Jonas’s ties with the Rossetti Trading Company seem to have deepened, both as head of the Scalfarotto Arms Works and as advisor to the Order of Beast Hunters. Does he plan to someday enter the world of trade?”

Ivano was caught off guard by the question about Jonas’s future, but he could say definitively that that would never happen.

“We are indeed grateful to have him, but I believe the work that takes priority for Mr. Jonas is being Guido Scalfarotto’s bodyguard.”

“Being a bodyguard is his priority? There should be no need for him to hold such a dangerous position. If he joined Haldard’s family in Išrana, he could live a life of ease—he would want for nothing...” Mitona said. His tone went beyond simple disappointment and into bitter regret. Ivano kept his expression professional.

Jonas’s mother had been a dancer in Išrana. She had been “presented” to Jonas’s father and became his second wife, but she had ultimately been unable to acclimate to Ordine and had returned to her home country mentally and physically shattered.

Owing to his noble blood, Jonas had been left behind with the viscount family. That was information Ivano had gleaned from other nobles.

However, Jonas had become blighted in adulthood. At the time of the divorce, he should have still been in primary school. Before becoming blighted, he had not had very strong magical power. Without the support of his mother’s family, it would have been difficult for him to thrive as a noble. It would not have been out of the ordinary for him to return to Išrana with his mother.

Had he stayed behind in Ordine because of Guido, or was there another reason? If Ivano asked Gildo about it, he was sure that the man would be able to tell him everything, even up to how Jonas became blighted.

However, Ivano had never thought to ask. Jonas was Guido’s trusted knight and the head of the Scalfarotto Arms Works. He cooperated in the development process for the Rossetti Trading Company, and he was a colleague who had stifled his laughter alongside Ivano during the expedition nightwear presentation at the castle.

Things were good between them, and he wanted to keep it that way.

“Mr. Jonas is a very strong and capable individual. I do not wish for any of my colleagues to be taken away to Išrana,” Ivano said with a businesslike smile.

“He has clearly made a name for himself here. I can understand the chairman’s fatherly pride toward him.”

Mitona was also smiling as he responded, but his dark eyes held no warmth. His gaze shifted to the window, as if he were admiring the garden outside. When he spoke, he barely moved his lips.

“The Kingdom of Ordine is his home.”

Ivano was able to pick up those muttered words of Išranic, and since he had learned the language while working at the Merchants’ Guild, he also understood the meaning.

From that, he inferred that Mitona knew that he could not bring Jonas to Išrana. Haldard probably also knew that too. Ivano had a feeling that he was asking Dahlia to support his son should he need it.

Ivano also turned to look out at the garden as he spoke to the young man. “Isn’t it a lovely garden? It’s such a shame it’s not springtime. The servants here have told me that hydrangeas grow in that section there, and the flowers change color spectacularly when they’re in bloom.”

“...Yes, the greenery is beautiful. I couldn’t help but admire it.”

Mitona turned to him with a businesslike smile. His eyes seemed to be half confirming whether Ivano had heard what he said and half examining Ivano himself.

Ivano wanted them to have an amicable relationship, but it appeared that they would have to continue feeling each other out for a while.

Time for the opening move. Ivano kept his smile professional as he asked, “I know you said you like sweets, but do you happen to have a favorite? Cake, cookies, candy?”

“I am happy with anything that has sugar in it,” Mitona replied. It was a response that made Ivano worry about the health of his teeth, but now he wouldn’t have to worry about what to send to the inn.

Ivano took out his notepad and smiled at Mitona. “Allow me to introduce you to a very popular confectionery in the capital. I encourage you to try it.”

Jonas made his way toward the drawing room being used by the Rossetti Trading Company.

“Chairman Haldard asked to speak with Chairwoman Rossetti alone,” a servant of the estate had informed him. He left Guido behind at the main residence and headed for the villa.

When he saw that Haldard’s carriage had already departed, he’d assumed he had gone to meet with another business associate or to his lodging, but his mind still lingered on the question of what the chairman could have possibly spoken to Dahlia about.

He had better not be causing any trouble for her. Jonas’s steps quickened, and he knocked on the door of the drawing room. He was given permission to enter, but inside he found only a man with mustard-colored hair.

“Master Jonas. Did you have business with the chairwoman or Sir Volf? You just missed them.”

“No, not particularly, Mr. Ivano. I only came in case any concerns arose during the meeting with Chairman Haldard.”

Jonas wondered if Volf and Dahlia had gone to the Green Tower, or perhaps out for dinner. The thought put his mind at ease.

Based on what he could divine from Ivano’s demeanor, he judged that Haldard’s private meeting with Dahlia had not caused any problems.

“Fortuitously enough, Chairman Haldard ordered a total of one hundred colored glass compact magical lanterns. He also provided us with twelve kingsnake magical cores, which made the chairwoman anxious that the four compact magical stoves we gave in return were insufficient.”

“They want to promote their products. There is nothing wrong with accepting them.”

The red-haired chairwoman couldn’t stand to have the scales be unbalanced. Was that because she was a commoner, or was it just an idiosyncrasy of hers? She was endlessly conscientious.

“Well, our chairwoman always worries about things like that. Could I ask you to bring this to Chairman Haldard?”

Ivano untied a bundle of black cloth that was on the table. Inside was a bottle of alcohol. The words “Ordinato Dawn” were written in gold script on its red label.

Jonas had drunk that same amber-red liquor the other day when Dorino was visiting the Scalfarotto’s villa. It was quite good, if a bit expensive.

“I understand that Chairman Haldard has a fondness for hard liquor. This is a brand that was liked by the chairwoman’s father, Mr. Carlo Rossetti. Share it over dinner with him, if you please.”

“Master Dahlia’s father...? Very well. I will happily take it. Thank you.”

“No, thank you. I can tell this is the start of a profitable relationship.”

As Jonas took the wrapped bottle, Ivano favored him with a merchant-like smile. The man before him no longer had the tension he displayed when they had first met. If anything, he seemed as comfortable around him as if they had been doing business with each other for many years.

When Ivano had started having tea with Guido, Jonas had sympathized with his nerves, but now he heard that the man was close enough to have drinks not only with Grato, the captain of the Order of Beast Hunters, but even with Gildo, the royal head treasurer.

Jonas himself enjoyed chatting with Ivano, but he could never discern whether he was interacting with Ivano the merchant or Ivano the person. It was frightening, in a way.

“That crimson sword suits you very well, Master Jonas.”

“Thank you. I appreciate Master Dahlia’s contribution toward its creation.”

Jonas was currently carrying his magical sword, the Night Piercer. He didn’t dislike hearing his favorite sword be praised so. Perhaps this was actually the Cerulean Crow’s way of getting close to him.

“It was made by one named Dawn, yes? I hear the sword itself is so magnificent that one could hardly find its like on the open market,” Ivano said.

“Yes. It is far too fine a sword for me.”

Jonas had been under the impression that Ivano was not knowledgeable about weapons, but perhaps he had asked Leone, the guildmaster of the Merchants’ Guild, about the Night Piercer. No, this is just how this man is. He learns and ingrains a mountain of information in a short amount of time.

Guido had researched this sword but had been unable to trace its origins. There were also stories about how artisans in Išrana only crafted items exclusively for specific families. This sword might have actually been one that had been parted with due to some circumstance.

However, its current owner was Jonas. He did not care that it had originally been forged for someone else.

“Chairman Haldard is truly an impressive person. I am grateful to have had the opportunity to speak with him.”

“Yes, he is. He built up a large company in the course of his lifetime,” Jonas replied. He was unsure of Ivano’s reason for saying that to him. He decided it was time to wrap the conversation up. “Well, I should return to the main residence now.”

“Thank you for coming. I will pay a visit to Lord Guido before long.”

“I will let him know. Goodbye, then.”

After they said their goodbyes, Jonas opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. Ivano followed behind to see him out.

Ivano called out to him just as he began to walk away. “Master Jonas.”

He turned around. There was something very unsettling about the man’s gentle smile and squinting dark-blue eyes. He almost looked like an adult looking at a child.

“He is a good father, that man.”

“No, he’s—”

He’s my mother’s husband, not my father, Jonas wanted to explain to the blue-eyed man, but he accidentally bit his tongue.

Jonas was unable to continue his sentence. Once Ivano bowed to him, he quickly strode away.

His tongue ached dully for an unduly long amount of time.

The Fangdeer and the Forest Serpent

“I’m hoping for fatty meat, but maybe that’s too much to ask for this time of year.”

“That’s winter for you. We’d have more luck in summer or autumn.”

The sun was up, but the frigid winter day refused to warm up. A cold wind blew as the Order of Beast Hunters traveled along the northwest highway.

Dorino and Volf rode on horseback at the front of the group, keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings as they spoke to one another. Behind them rode Vice-Captain Griswald, the vice-commander of the Second Knights’ Regiment, and then the rest of the knights. Today, the new recruits and some knights from the Second Knights’ Regiment had come along on the mission as part of their training.

“The village’s hunters fought the fangdeer, but their potions were not powerful enough to treat the injuries they sustained. Fortunately, they were able to make it to a temple in time, so no one was left in life-threatening condition.”

Griswald began to give an explanation of today’s mission involving fangdeer. A small herd of fangdeer settled in a grassland area just off the northern highway. It was rare for fangdeer to migrate in the winter, but it was speculated that their herd had split up or scattered after being attacked.

Fangdeer were monsters that looked identical to deer. They possessed slight strengthening magic and had strong kicks. They had fangs, as one could guess from their name, and a bite from them had a high probability of infection. That being said, they typically did not attack humans.

However, as misfortune would have it, a farmer’s wagon loaded with apples had turned over on the highway. The fangdeer had eaten the fallen apples and developed a taste for them, and they had gone on to attack several more wagons loaded with fruits and vegetables. This had spurred the village’s hunters to do something about them, but they had found themselves outmatched.

The damage to the carriages continued unabated, and now people were being wounded as well, so the village had requested help from the Order of Beast Hunters to slay the fangdeer.

“Vice-Captain Griswald, are fangdeer very dangerous monsters?” the vice-commander of the Second Knights’ Regiment asked.

“There are not very many of them, but they attack as a herd and they have a natural instinct to trample collapsed or immobile persons.”

“Did you say trample?”

“Yes. The behavior is described as being a ‘declaration of victory.’ Their hooves are small, so it can feel like getting stabbed— No, actually, sometimes their hooves do stab into flesh.”

The vice-commander seemed to have accurately imagined it. He shuddered.

“In terms of danger, fangdeer are well below forest serpents,” Griswald continued. “But having one stomp on you is indeed painful, and their hooves can cause damage if they hit right between the ribs.”

“Have you had many injuries caused by monsters yourself?”

“Not so many. I have been swallowed by a forest serpent, trampled by a fangdeer, struck by a red bear, stabbed by a bicorn horn, and caught in a marsh spider web. That much is fairly normal for a Beast Hunter.”

“Good gods, man, I never knew you went through such brutal combat...!”

The vice-commander of the Second Knights’ Regiment looked at Griswald with newfound respect.

Volf almost turned around but repositioned himself to face forward again. Even as a Scarlet Armor, he had no recollection of suffering that many injuries from monsters.

“...What’s normal about that?” he muttered to himself.

“You have no room to talk, Volf. Don’t forget you were snatched up by a wyvern. Plus, everyone’s born with their own good and bad luck...”

“A little harsh, don’t you think?” Volf whispered back.

Dorino coughed loudly, then turned to look behind him.

“Fangdeer meat is similar to deer, and it’s quite nice! It’s a bit stringy and tough, but if you cut it up into small pieces and sauté it on a camp stove, you won’t even notice.”

“Yes, indeed. We should all try it today with the mixed spices or sweet sauce that Master Dahlia gave us.”

“Your magical toolmaker advisor also provides you with condiments?” the vice-commander asked.

“Yes. Master Dahlia assists us in a wide variety of ways,” Griswald answered.

Volf felt happiness well up inside him as he listened to their conversation.

Even today, his shoes were comfortable thanks to the toe socks and drying insoles, he had nice, warm air against his back on this cold day, and at their campsite, he knew they would be making good use of the waterproof cloth and camp stoves.

Thanks to Dahlia, expeditions had become not just twice but four times more pleasant.

“Fangdeer meat isn’t bad, but I think that sweet sauce goes best with forest serpent!” said a knight from behind Griswald. He gripped his reins with a light turquoise prosthetic hand. Though he was getting on in years, he was technically a new recruit.

Next to him, another aged recruit with a blue prosthetic arm spoke. “I’ve heard forest serpent prices have been on the rise, and adventurers are searching for them too. At this rate they might go extinct.”

“I hope they do. For the sake of public peace,” Griswald stated emphatically with a wide smile. Volf hoped he was only imagining it, but to him, the latter half of that statement sounded like an afterthought.

“No, that would be bad, Vice-Captain. Then the titan frog population would grow out of control. Doesn’t the Order’s manual explain how monsters and animals are all connected?”

“As much as I dislike to admit it, yes, for the population of one monster or animal to increase or decrease would indeed disrupt the balance...”

Dorino twisted halfway on his horse to call over his shoulder. “Plus, if forest serpents go extinct, that means one less type of meat to eat with sweet sauce!”

Volf started to laugh, thinking he was joking, but he silenced himself when he got a look at the serious expression on his friend’s face.

Dorino had received permission from Dahlia to bring her sweet sauce recipe to his family’s restaurant. He was happy that it had elevated his status within his family, but it seemed the sweet sauce wasn’t the only thing he felt strongly about, but forest serpent too.

“Wouldn’t it be more convenient to raise forest serpents? You can ship them out once they reach a moderate size,” one of the elderly knights suggested.

“Oh, good point!”

The elderly knight was right. It would be safer to breed forest serpents rather than go hunting for them deep in the forest. Although Volf felt sorry for whoever had to be in charge of taking care of them.

“The question is, at what size are they considered mature?”

“Would it be all right if I brought this up with Augusto—the vice-guildmaster of the Adventurers’ Guild?”

“Yes, of course, Sir Volf. That would be most helpful.”

Recently, the Adventurers’ Guild has been increasing its efforts to breed various monsters, like slimes. Volf had no doubt they could make this happen as well.

“Speaking of, Sir Bernigi, Captain Grato mentioned that you once fought a considerably large forest serpent?” one of the knights asked.

“That’s right, there was a big fellow up north. Capable of swallowing cattle whole, that one. Once it got a taste for beef, it kept coming back to the ranch.”

“I bet it was fatty and full of flavor! Oh, but maybe the fattiness makes it more likely to give you a nosebleed...” Kirk said from his spot behind the new recruits.

Volf remembered how Kirk had once gotten a nosebleed from eating dried forest serpent, just as he had. He straightened up on his horse and focused on keeping watch ahead of him.

As they rode along, the elderly recruits began to whisper to each other.

“This is a calamitous time for forest serpents...”

“I cannot help but feel sorry for them, our enemies though they are...”

Farther down the highway, an open grassland came into view, with little green since it was winter. The Beast Hunters dismounted their horses and began to set up camp just outside of the field. After they cleared away the weeds and pitched their tents, they began preparations for their mission.

Some of the knights changed clothes inside the tents. On this mission, they would not only be training but testing out the effectiveness of their mimicry gear.

“Look at you, Kirk! That was made for you!”

“And you, Sir Dorino. You look even more like a forest serpent!”

Lucia and the Magical Garment Factory had worked to improve on the expedition nightwear presented the other day and created two versions of it—regular nightwear and mimicry gear.

Kirk was currently wearing the garment that resembled a pillow squirrel. This version was even fluffier than the last. Dorino’s forest serpent outfit was now more formfitting, so it wouldn’t impede him from sprinting as fast as he could.

“Head Manager Fano said they might put these on the clothing market.”

“Can you imagine people walking around in these? Main street will look like a madhouse...”

“To sell as nightclothes. They’re warm and comfy to wear at home. Couples could get matching sets.”

“You know, pillow squirrels get along well with their mates, so that could be considered auspicious,” Randolph said.

Volf was reminded that he and Dahlia had already dressed in matching pillow squirrel nightclothes in the tower. For some reason, a feeling of restlessness came over him.

“Really? Are they always together?”

“Sometimes, but if you catch one, it’s easier to catch the other. In Ehrlichia, they sometimes catch one to use as bait to catch its mate. When one with good quality fur is caught, they are often used for breeding. Hats made out of the pair’s fur are given as gifts wishing matrimonial happiness.”

“Hey, are you sure those hats bring good luck?”

“I feel like they would hold the pillow squirrels’ resentment...”

Volf felt sorry for the squirrels just thinking about those hats. It was definitely not something he wanted for himself. With a strange mix of emotions, Volf finished changing and exited the tent.

“Ah! Look, a pillow squirrel!”

Sitting on a branch in a sparse copse of trees next to the grassy field was a lone pillow squirrel, looking their way. But when Kirk took a few steps forward, it moved to a more distant branch in the blink of an eye.

“That’s too bad. I thought we might become friends,” Kirk said, his shoulders slumping in disappointment.

“Yeah, right. Imagine being that pillow squirrel and suddenly seeing a giant appear next to you!”

“But it’s looking right over here. Look, it’s on that branch there.”

The pillow squirrel was so adorable, Volf knew Dahlia would fawn over it. It was hiding on a thick branch and staring this way. The object of its gaze was Kirk, so it must have been curious about him.

“Nope, that’s not the face of something who wants to be your friend.”

“It looks terrified you’re going to invade its turf.”

“It’s okay, little guy! I’m not a threat!” Kirk called out to it nicely, but the pillow squirrel did not relax its guard.

After that, the knights determined the location of the fangdeer in the field, where the bow knights enclosed them in a restricted area.

From here began both the training mission and the test of the mimicry gear—a test to determine if the knights could chase down monsters while wearing garments that disguised them as other monsters.

First, Kirk, in his pillow squirrel disguise, stood in a spot where the herd of fangdeer could see him. Kirk could not use strengthening magic, so he would not be able to get any closer than that.

The fangdeer glanced in his direction, but they neither ran, hid, nor approached him.

“They just seem to be curious about him. They must be able to tell that he is slower than they are,” Griswald remarked.

Bernigi smiled dryly. “It is not every day they see a pillow squirrel of that size.”

The first time Bernigi and the other new recruits saw the mimicry gear, they’d laughed so hard their knees had given out.

However, they’d sobered up when they heard that the garments might make it easier to corral monsters. If they could control the direction in which the monsters fled, they would surely have the upper hand in battle. It was a desirable function to have in forests and rocky areas where arrows couldn’t penetrate.

As a Scarlet Armor, I might actually have a lot of opportunities to wear it, Volf thought to himself as he watched the bow knights begin their chase.

“Randolph!”

At Griswald’s signal, Randolph, dressed as a red bear, rushed toward the herd from the right side. Between his large build and the fact that he was using strengthening magic while running, he looked like a bear even though he was running on two legs.

He ran until he was right in front of the herd, then raised his arms high in a threatening pose.

“Graaah!”

He let out a roar that resounded high in the sky. It was so bearlike that Volf almost believed it truly came from one.

“Wow! Sir Randolph’s wholly transformed into a bear!” a middle-aged knight cried out in wonder.

Randolph’s roar truly could only be described as magnificent.

The fangdeer began to panic and frantically scatter.

“It’s not quite working as well as I would have liked in terms of corralling them. They’re running every which way,” Griswald observed.

“Still, that was a glorious roar. It was very— No, perhaps too effective.”

“It’s amazing how much like a red bear he looks...” the vice-commander of the Second Knights’ Regiment joined in.

The knights of the Order of Beast Hunters and the Second Knights’ Regiment were dispatching the fangdeer, who were running around directionlessly. For now, it seemed the knights wouldn’t let any of the fangdeer slip by them.

“Ready, Volf?”

“Yes, sir!”

It was now time for Volf to make his way to the center of the field, dressed as a black wolf. Dorino was already moving toward the herd from the left.

After checking the laces of his boots, he took off running. The wind blew over the black wolf suit, ruffling its soft fur. The herd of fangdeer finally began to calm down, and he was about to charge them when they all turned to look at him simultaneously.

Then, Bernigi’s voice boomed from behind him. “Now, Volf! Let out a howl!”

“Uh— Woof! Woof!”

He hadn’t put much thought into it, so instead of a black wolf, he ended up sounding more like the castle’s nightdogs. But it wasn’t a very faithful rendition of that either.

“Volf, that was a dog. Not a wolf.”

“Oh, go be a watchdog for the Green Tower already!”

The other knights laughed and teased him, but the fangdeer turned and started running to the left in unison. His howl had worked in the end.

“That seems promising.”

“Wolves are fangdeer’s natural enemy. If he can do that every time, it will be useful indeed.”

In any case, it seemed the corralling was a success.

“Dorino! You’re next!”

Once Volf ran to the planned spot, Griswald called out to Dorino.

The fangdeer were running toward where Dorino stood in his forest serpent gear. From this point, he would drive them into one area, and then everyone would surround the fangdeer where they ran and slay them.

“All right, it’s finally my turn. How’s this for a Green King?! Hisss!”

Like Randolph, Dorino performed an admirable imitation of his monster. When the fangdeer heard that hiss, they stopped frozen in their tracks.

Volf and the rest of the knights kept their eyes on the fangdeer as they readied their weapons.

“Just as expected. The forest serpent really is the most frightening of them all.”

“Yes, this is the Green King we’re talking about. They’ll be running for their lives now and... Hmm?”

“Is that threatening behavior? They’re approaching him...”

The fangdeer were slowly closing the distance between them and Dorino.

“Huh? Was I not intimidating enough or something? Maybe I need to put a little more power behind it? Hisss!!!”

Dorino hissed even louder and more threateningly in his accurate imitation of a forest serpent. However, all around him, the fangdeer began scuffing their hooves against the ground. Their deerlike faces might have seemed cute at first glance, but their large white fangs peeked out from their mouths.

“No! Dorino, retreat!” Griswald shouted.

“Y-Yes, sir!”

Dorino fled immediately.

In that instant, one of the larger fangdeer leaped high, targeting Dorino.

“Whoa!”

Dorino dodged the fangdeer by a hair, but clumps of rock broke and went flying as the fangdeer’s hooves sank deep into the earth. The entire herd of fangdeer had their dark eyes focused on a single individual—the one cloaked in the forest serpent disguise.

“Everyone, begin the attack!”

The Beast Hunters and the Second Knights’ Regiment charged for the herd of fangdeer. The fangdeer chased after a fleeing Dorino, and the knights chased after the fangdeer through the field. Thus began a hunt no one had foreseen.

Humans were still ignorant of the fact that forest serpents were not few in number. It was just that most died before reaching the massive size humans were aware of.

The enormous and powerful full-grown forest serpents were the ones called Green Kings. No other beast rivaled them as natural predators to the monsters and animals of the woods.

Consequently, when other monsters came across a small forest serpent—a size they were able to fight against—they did everything they could to eliminate it. Only the serpents that survived those vicious fights and grew to that massive size became Green Kings.

“Come on! Why’re they only coming after me?!”

Dorino sprinted like mad away from the pursuing fangdeer. He was the very embodiment of a young forest serpent.

Man-Made Magical Sword: Eighth Attempt—Ice-Wing Sword

“Here, Dahlia. This is from the squad—fangdeer fangs and shank meat.”

Volf arrived at the Green Tower just before sunset. In his arms he carried a small magically sealed box and a large wooden crate. He placed the box of fangdeer fangs on a shelf in the first-floor workshop and carried the crate containing the shank meat along with vegetables and wine to the second floor.

“How did the fangdeer mission go?” Dahlia asked.

In the kitchen, she had put a pot on to heat, and the two of them chatted as they chopped vegetables.

“We wore the mimicry gear Ms. Lucia made for us. The fangdeer observed the pillow squirrel and ran away from the red bear and black wolf. The garments seem like they’ll be useful for corralling certain monsters, so we’re going to have the knights who are quick on their feet try them out next.”

“I’m happy to hear it. I hope they continue to be useful for future missions.”

“Although, Dorino was chased by the fangdeer while he was wearing the forest serpent suit.”

“Really? Do fangdeer eat forest serpents? Or were they a mutant species?”

Her bestiary described fangdeer as being mainly herbivores, but perhaps these fangdeer had been a new carnivorous variant.

“No, they weren’t mutants. Also, we mostly target omnivorous fangdeer. That’s probably why they chased Dorino. After Dorino took off his forest serpent gear, Lord Bernigi put it on as a test, and sure enough, the herd went after him too.”

“Lord Bernigi...”

What had the former marquis been thinking? She knew that the mission had also partly been training for the new recruits, but nothing about his behavior sounded like that of a new recruit. But at least she could infer that his prosthetic leg was in good shape.

In any case, there had to be a good reason for the fangdeer to chase the knights that persistently.

“Do fangdeer hold a grudge against forest serpents or anything like that?” Dahlia asked.

Volf, who was tearing apart some lettuce, suddenly stopped what he was doing. “That could be. The herd might’ve been attacked or had their territory taken over by a forest serpent. But that said, monsters should hate us Beast Hunters more than anything. We destroy goblins’ new lands and attack the paradise of titan frogs, for starters.”

“When you put it that way, I guess I’ve destroyed the peace of numerous slimes.”

“Yeah, we’re both part of the Order of Beast Hunters, so it only makes sense for monsters to hate us,” Volf said before going back to tearing apart the lettuce.

Dahlia pondered over what he said as she turned to the refrigerator. We’re both part of the Order of Beast Hunters—Volf had said it so casually.

She was an advisor to the Order, that was for certain, but she could not join in their battles nor always be there to help out on expeditions. Nevertheless, he thought of her as one of them. It made her immensely happy.

Once they finished cooking, they carried the pot and its fully cooked contents to the living room. The shallow pot she had used to cook on the camp stove was a size larger than her usual choice, since tonight’s dish featured a lot of vegetables.

She carefully lifted the lid, and from across the steam, Volf said wonderingly, “That’s a lot of white.”

“It’s cod hot pot. It’s eaten with grated radish. And you can add soy sauce, ginger, and chili pepper to your liking.”

The pot was filled with white cod fillets on top of plentiful cabbage, spring onions, and mild-flavored mushrooms. As a whole, its appearance was very white. Next to the pot was the mound of radish, grated by Volf, to be eaten with the hot pot.

“This estervino is from Captain Grato. He said it’s the same one he’s been drinking with Lord Gildo recently,” Dahlia explained.

Ivano had accepted it before they left the castle. The off-white bottle of estervino was called “Snow Princess.” The white label with its pale blue lettering was very characteristic of Esterland. Dahlia poured the estervino into tin drinking cups for both of them.

The cloudy alcohol did bring to mind snow—and it added even more white to the table.

“Congratulations on completing your expedition. Let’s toast to more good fortune in the coming days.”

“Cheers, to both our health and fortune.”

Dahlia and Volf clinked their tin cups together, then brought them to their lips.

A light flavor of the estervino spread through Dahlia’s mouth and passed smoothly down her throat. Once the drink fell to the bottom of her throat, her nose was filled with a sweet fruit-like scent. Then, the flavor and scent faded like a wave receding.

The drink really was like snow—fleeting yet beautiful.

“It has a nice, lovely flavor. I think the name describes it well.”

“Yeah, how should I put it? It’s sweet, but the aftertaste fades quickly... Just like snow.”

Volf seemed to have liked the drink as well. After she refilled his cup, she decided to start in on the cod hot pot. The steamed billowed up from the bowlful of cod and vegetables, clouding her vision.

“The cod is a bit salty, so it’s best eaten with a bit of grated radish and soy sauce,” she said.

“Dahlia, you put that black sauce on it too?” Volf asked, watching in wonder as she poured soy sauce on top of the grated radish.

“Well, I just like to add some more flavor to the dish. If you don’t like it, ginger goes well with it too.”

“No, everything you’ve made and recommended that I try has been delicious, so I’m sure I’ll like it!”

She wished he wouldn’t place so much trust in her. Not everyone liked the same things. However, when she saw him stare even more intently at the glass bottle the soy sauce was in, she decided to give up and go ahead and start eating first.

She added a large amount of the radish, grated near the root to bring out more of the sharp flavor, on the white cod, then poured soy sauce over it. She then brought the fish to her mouth using her chopsticks and alternatingly tasted the heat and savoriness of the cod and the coolness and sharpness of the radish.

As she chewed, the salty and sharp flavors combined beautifully. The cabbage and onions had soaked up the flavor of the cod and were also delicious.

The soy sauce she used was one of the Esterland seasonings she had received from the Order of Beast Hunters. It was saltier and had a stronger flavor than the soy sauce from her past life, but she felt that actually made it an even better complement to a hot pot dish like this.

After taking her time savoring the flavor, she glanced up at Volf, who was already close to finishing his bowl.

“Who knew cod, grated radish, and soy sauce would go so well together... Why haven’t they started selling this everywhere?” Volf said.

Dahlia wished he wouldn’t look so tearful and sound so sad. It was only just recently that she’d gotten her hands on soy sauce. And it was quite expensive.

There was a certain amount of trade between the Kingdom of Ordine and Esterland, but it required crossing the sea, which was crawling with monsters. Monster attacks were frequent, and it was essential to have fast sailing vessels that made use of air mages or air crystals. Consequently, the ships were mainly loaded with expensive medicinal herbs, silk, and jewels, with goods like spices and daily necessities being rarer. That was what Ivano had told her.

“Here, Volf, have some more.”

“Thanks. Mind if I grate some more radish?”

“Please and thank you.”

There was still some grated radish left, but Dahlia supposed Volf wanted to add a lot more on his fish.

As Volf stood with a smile on his face, she suddenly remembered that there was something she absolutely wanted Volf, with his love for spicy foods, to try.

“Volf, I could also make you some grated maple leaf.”

“Grated maple leaf...? How do you grate a maple leaf?”

Dahlia decided to give Volf a demonstration. She poked a small hole in a radish, filled it with chili pepper, and then proceeded to grate the radish. Volf was a big fan of the light red grated “maple leaf.”

They polished off the cod hot pot, and once they finished cleaning up their dinner, they decided to open up the bottle of sweet white wine that Volf had brought over.

After they toasted again, Dahlia began talking about the day she had the day prior.

“I brought some food to Irma at the temple yesterday. She and Marcella both look well. She can’t move very much, so she said she’s bored to tears. Marcella has been making bricks and reading cookbooks.”

Irma was pregnant with twins. Marcella was staying at the temple in preparation for her delivery, but there was no knowing when it would come. The one thing that was certain was that once the twins were born, both Irma and Marcella would be very busy.

“I bet they can’t wait,” Volf said.

“Neither can Lucia. She’s apparently come up with even more designs for baby clothes. She’s currently working on pillow squirrel and bear cub one-piece garments for infants and children. She said it’d be good to keep their stomachs warm.”

“Oh yeah, those would look cute on kids. Sometimes it feels a little silly when we wear them to do serious work... Though they are warm and useful.”

The expedition nightwear samples that Lucia had made made quite the impression. Thanks to her innovative ideas, the Beast Hunters should be able to carry out their duties more safely. She knew she shouldn’t laugh, but as she thought of the outfits, the corners of her mouth twitched involuntarily.

“Lord Carmine has been working on ways to improve on the pillow squirrel nightwear,” Volf informed her.

“He is? Is he trying to make it able to fly over more distance?”

“Yeah, I heard he was able to get them to fly a bit farther. It doesn’t look much like a pillow squirrel anymore, and the fabric he’s using now is a lot more durable. But he’s having trouble getting it to land well, so now he and his team are trying to figure out a way to make it safer.”

“The landing... That makes sense. People are heavier than pillow squirrels.”

There had been gliders in Dahlia’s past world, but she had no knowledge of how they landed. It was in times like these that she wished she had learned about more things in her past life.

After Volf told her about the goings-on in the castle and during the expedition, they took a break from talking by drinking the white wine. Dahlia was eating a salted butter cookie in between sips of the sweet, light-bodied wine when she sensed she was being stared at.

“Is something on your mind, Volf?”

“No—um, most red wines are more dry than white, and I know you like sweet wines. Do you just not like sweet white wines?”

Dahlia got the sense that Volf was worried she didn’t like the white wine he brought. She quickly assured him that wasn’t the case.

“No, I like sweet white wines too. It’s just, I like sweet reds because...they used to be the only wine I didn’t gag on.”

Volf’s golden eyes widened. “You? Gag on wine?”

She wished he wouldn’t look at her like she had grown a second head. It wasn’t as if she had always been able to drink like she did now.

“Yes. I wanted to toast with my father when I became of age, but his favorite wines were all dry and bitter... I almost choked the first time I took a sip, but managed to hold it in. My father realized what happened anyway. After that, he looked for red wines that I would be able to drink easily... Finally I was able to toast together with a smile.”

For many years, she and her father would sit around the dinner table, Carlo with his wine and Dahlia, as a child, with her grape juice. Her father had always seemed to really enjoy his wine, so Dahlia had looked forward to being able to drink it herself.

But when she’d finally reached legal drinking age and toasted with red wine for the first time, it had tasted a lot worse than she’d expected. It had been an expensive wine and her father’s favorite brand, but Dahlia had had no taste for its strong, bitter flavor.

The reason for it was simply that she still had an unrefined, childish palate, but she’d been so focused on not choking on the wine that she hadn’t been able to smile.

She remembered the day she was able to smile and toast with the sweet red wine her father had sought for her. She remembered him telling her how happy he was to finally be able to drink with his daughter, toasting with wine that was the same color as her hair.

That night was a somewhat embarrassing yet happy memory. And they had drunk a little too much.

“It’s hard to explain, but... Red wine tastes sweeter to me because it’s connected to memories of my father.”

From that night on, she and her father had toasted with red wine for every little thing, from celebrating new magical tools to delivering products.

Before she knew it, she’d found she enjoyed alcohol as much as her father did.

And now, it was Volf with whom she drank.

Volf nodded as he swirled the remaining wine in his glass. “I think I understand what you mean. Drinks taste different depending on who you’re drinking with...”

A question popped into Dahlia’s mind. “Is there any personal reason that you like dry white wines? Do you just prefer the flavor?”

“Personal reasons? Not really—actually, it’s sort of the opposite reason as yours.” Volf squeezed his left hand closed, then opened it. “So... The first time I slew a goblin, I kept thinking I could see red blood in my vision even after the battle was over... I couldn’t bring myself to drink red wine, so I drank white that day. I just sort of stuck with it without really meaning to.”

Volf’s downcast gaze and quiet voice spelled out clearly to Dahlia how difficult that battle must have been.

But his expression didn’t darken any further than that. He bit into a salted butter cookie.

“Now I like both. That’s why they call me names like ‘Black Reaper’ and ‘Dark Lord.’”

“Don’t start. I know you got those nicknames because of how strong you are,” Dahlia said.

Volf laughed in his usual way. With a smile still on his face, he continued, “Oh yeah, before I got here, I had a conversation with my father at the main house. He said he’d like his magical lantern to be painted with a design of the main house’s garden. He has a painting of what it looks like in spring, so I can bring a copy of it to you.”

“Okay then, I can have that painted on the lantern’s shade.”

Dahlia planned to ask Fermo’s wife, Barbara the glassmaker, to paint the lantern. She was an expert in painting glass and working with colored glass, so Dahlia knew she would be able to do a fantastic job.

“I still get nervous talking to him since we went so long without speaking. I think the same goes for him. He still didn’t look me in the eyes today, but I heard him laugh loudly for the first time in ages.”

“You two must’ve had a fun conversation.”

“Yeah. I told him about how you saved me, and about expeditions... Oh, but I didn’t talk about athlete’s foot!”

“Volf, why would you even bring that up...?” Dahlia asked sternly.

Volf averted his eyes. Dahlia firmly vowed that if Volf ever told his father about her being called the “Goddess of Athlete’s Foot,” she would start calling him “Lord Scalfarotto” again.

“Uh... My father told me to tell you congratulations on your promotion.”

“Please tell him thank you, and that his words are much too kind. Okay, once I have the picture, I’ll move on to the next steps. Mrs. Barbara is busy, so it might take some time.”

Dahlia knew that Fermo’s wife had many orders to fulfill. It would most likely be a while before she could even get started on the lantern shade.

“There’s no rush. I already told my father that I would bring it to him in the countryside once it’s ready. He told me to come visit whenever I wanted. He said he was going to set up more scarlatterba greenhouses.”

Scarlatterba was a flower that looked like a white and enlarged version of scarlet sage. Its nectar was a deliciously sweet and potent alcohol. The plant was so difficult to grow that the Scalfarotto family took extra care to grow it in well-guarded greenhouses in their territory. Perhaps Earl Scalfarotto, Volf’s father, was planning on investing time in growing them as a local specialty after handing over the seat of family head.

“He also told me that there are really old magical tools that do things with water in the mansion there, like one that checks the water quality and one that changes the flow of water. I was thinking if you’re interested in seeing them, maybe you could come to the countryside with me?”

“Yes, definitely! I would love to see them!”

She hadn’t meant to exclaim so loudly, but she’d heard there were many magical tools that had gone out of use after the spread of water crystals. She would take any opportunity to see one for herself.

Was unicorn or kelpie used for the tool to check water quality? A tool that changes the flow of water might have used sea serpent? Or maybe even leviathan materials. Thoughts of monsters and magical tools suddenly inundated her mind.

“All right, once the lantern is finished, we can bring it to him together and check out those magical tools.”

Once he finished speaking, Volf placed his glass on the table, then turned to Dahlia and straightened his posture.

The unexpectedness of it made Dahlia straighten her own posture.

“Thank you, Dahlia. If I hadn’t met you, I would never have been able to laugh genuinely with my brother or father again.”

His voice was deep and he looked straight at her with his golden eyes

And on his face was the purest smile she had ever seen on him. The moment she saw it, Dahlia became extremely flustered and at a loss for how to react. Her embarrassment meter was off the charts.

“Um, if you’re going to thank me, then I should thank you in return. Ever since meeting you, I’ve been able to make all kinds of magical tools, and I’ve even been given permission to enter the castle, so...” Dahlia trailed off mid-sentence.

That’s not what I want to say. It was true that she was grateful for the work opportunities Volf had opened up for her, and for the contributions he made to her company. But more important than that was the simple fact that they had met and were able to spend time together like this—

For some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to say, I’m glad I met you, Volf.

“V-Volf! Do you want to make a magical sword?!”

“Definitely! You don’t need to ask me twice!”

The only thing her swirling thoughts could settle on was to change the subject.

Dahlia half fled to her workshop with Volf at her back.

“This process will be more experimental—I’d like to focus on making an aesthetically pleasing sword rather than a practical one.”

“Hmm, what do you mean, exactly...?”

They were now in the first-floor workshop. Volf had never looked so confused.

Dahlia knew it was an odd idea, but she’d been too busy lately to plan out a magical sword that would be both functional and safe. Consequently, she had decided to use today as a chance to test out ideas for future swords. However, she would be reusing a magical circuit she had drawn a few times before as a way to practice working with ice crystals.

“These are the materials I want to try using.”

On the worktable, Dahlia laid out a tiny amount of powdered ice dragon scale, the hilt of a longsword without a blade, two small ice crystals, and a small, thin sheet of shiny silver-blue mythril.

“But it has no blade, Dahlia.”

“You’re going to make the blade, Volf.”

“Me?”

Volf was even more confused now. Dahlia didn’t blame him—not even she had seen a bladeless sword in this world. In the movies of her previous world, there had been swords that emitted beams of light, but she planned to make something completely different.

“That’s right. We’re going to try creating a blade of ice. I’ll explain as I go. First, I’ll draw a circuit on the inside of the hilt to control the ice magic. I have a little powdered ice dragon scale, so I’ll use that to stabilize the magic.”

Once she was finished speaking, she split the thick hilt in two. This was something she’d ordered from the owner of a weapon shop she frequented. He’d been mystified when she explained she needed only a hilt, not a blade, but when she said she needed it for an experiment, that had been enough to convince him.

The hilt was a dull silver in color. No leather wrapped the plain metal of the grip. Dahlia already had the circuit mapped out in her head, so she went ahead and enchanted each side of the hilt with a fifth of a spoonful of powdered ice dragon scale, drawing identical fine-lined circuits on each piece.

It was fun to trace her faintly blue-tinged magic along the inside of the hilt like a thin wire. Although the circuits did not require strong magic, she would have to start over if she accidentally overlapped adjacent lines, so she proceeded cautiously.

“You okay, Dahlia?” Volf asked her after she finished enchanting both circuits.

“Yes, I’m fine. This enchantment doesn’t use much magic. The circuit is just very detailed.”

“Yeah, it’s small and intricate. It looks nerve-racking to make.”

“This is nothing compared to the three-dimensional circuit Professor Oswald made—it isn’t even half as long as that...” Dahlia said, thinking of the enchantment Oswald had carried out to make the Ice Spider Wand.

He had drawn the elaborate circuit in midair like a silver spiderweb spun of magic. When she thought of that textbook-perfect circuit, she was all the more acutely aware of the inadequacies of her own technique.

Dahlia wasn’t capable of creating a magical circuit in midair like Oswald, hence her decision to separate the hilt into two parts and draw the circuit on the inner surface of each. She had three more spare hilts secreted away in her cabinet just in case, but fortunately, she’d succeeded on her first try.

“Next, I’ll be using this sheet of mythril to make a ring to place in the guard. That’s what the ice will come out of.”

“Oh, I think I get it: The ice made by the ice crystal will pass through that and get shaped into a blade.”

Volf was becoming much more knowledgeable about magical tools in his own right. And he was quick to grasp her intent.

“Yes, exactly. Okay, I’m going to start making the ring now.”

Dahlia took the mythril sheet and used her mythril tools to shape it into a ring that was a little thinner on one side. She made sure to round the edges so they wouldn’t cut Volf’s fingers, then added some additional “wiggle room” in the aperture, as Fermo had taught her to do. This way, even if something hit it, the ring wouldn’t bend too much.

“This will go here, at the top of the hilt, and the two ice crystals inside will connect in a series.”

Unlike her prior creation, the Frozen Blade, this sword had no metal blade. Had it been a normal sword, she would have attached the mythril ring at the base of the blade inside the guard and placed a small ice crystal in the center of the hilt.

But this hilt had neither a string nor a switch to activate it. The sword had to be activated by the wielder’s own internal magic.

“The ice grows straight up—like this.”

Dahlia channeled a small amount of magic into the hilt. It emitted a faint, pale blue light. A small amount of whitish translucent ice extended from the guard, emerging through the opening of the mythril ring. It was very thin ice, but it confirmed that the circuit worked.

“An ice sword!”

Volf was captivated, his golden eyes wide and sparkling.

“It can’t be used to attack anything. It’s just ice,” Dahlia warned him.

Such a thin piece of ice would surely be brittle—it would shatter if she so much as struck the table with it.

“Sorry to ask this, but do you mind blood bonding to it?” she asked.

“You don’t have to apologize, Dahlia. I’m happy to do it, since that means it’ll become exclusively my sword.”

Blood bonding was the only way for Volf, who could not express his magic outwardly, to use this magical tool. Wearing a carefree smile, he picked up the needle to prick his finger.

Dahlia could never get used to pricking her finger for blood bonding. She had once asked her father if she couldn’t just use saliva instead and had even tried doing so in secret, but to no avail. As she watched the droplet of blood ooze from Volf’s fingertip, she wished earnestly that some castle magical toolmaker or alchemist could research an alternative method of bonding users to tools.

“Now all you have to do is slowly channel your magic through it... If you make the blade too long, it might break under its own weight, so go slowly.”

“Got it. All right, here goes nothing...!”

Volf’s expression turned serious, as if he were about to charge into battle, and he gripped the hilt in both hands. A few seconds later, in evident response to his exertion of will, a thin blade of ice swiftly extended from the hilt. It grew faster and longer than when Dahlia had demonstrated the principle for Volf. Soon, he was clutching an ice sword about the same length as an ordinary sword.

Instantly, Volf’s face lit up in an ecstatic smile. “This is amazing! It’s like my mother’s ice sword! I never thought I could ever make something like this!” he exclaimed excitedly, his loud voice rebounding from the stone walls of the tower.

Ever since the day they had made the ice wand, Dahlia had been thinking that Volf might enjoy having an ice sword he could create himself. However, given her modest level of magic, it was impossible for her to enchant a durable sword with ice dragon scales or other ice-elemental monster materials. Moreover, she had no past data to refer to and thus could not be certain whether any tool she made would be effective or compatible with Volf’s magic.

She’d conceived of this sword as an experiment, deeming it safe enough to try, but she had never imagined he would be this happy about it.

“An ice sword... A real ice sword...”

Dahlia suddenly noticed that Volf had the blade pressed to his cheek. She was about to tell him to stop, but the look of pure ecstasy on his face made her abandon that thought.

Despite its shape, it could not so much as cut a finger unless one put a great deal of force into the attempt. In fact, if Volf were to use strengthening magic, it might not have hurt him at all.

Dahlia decided to keep it an absolute secret from Volf that she had sliced open her own finger to test the blade’s sharpness.

“Um... Volf, your cheek is getting red. If you keep holding it like that, your hands will freeze...” It made her happy to see him happy, but it was just ice. It was nothing worth getting frostbite over.

“It’s okay—I’m not sensitive to cold! If you don’t want your floor to get wet, I can go try this outside.”

“Please don’t. It’s freezing out there. What if you catch a cold?”

No sooner had she said that then the ice blade snapped in half right next to Volf’s face.

“Ahhh! My sword!” Volf wailed in anguish, but he caught the ice in his hand before it hit the floor.

You can make another one. You don’t have to look so sad over a piece of ice, Dahlia thought to herself.

“You can throw away the ice that broke off. Once you get under the heated table upstairs, you can make as much ice as you want.”

Dahlia considered placing a bucket next to the table to catch the ice. She would have felt bad taking the hilt from Volf, so the least she could do now was make sure he didn’t catch a cold.

“It’d be a waste to just throw it away! Oh, I know—let’s put it in some glasses and toast with it! When we run out of ice, I can use this to make more.”

Was that really necessary? They could just use ice crystals. In fact, it seemed like a rather dangerous idea, drinking from a glass containing a blade-shaped shard of ice.

But Volf had a boyish smile on his face as he clutched the ice, apparently unbothered by its cold. Perhaps he was thinking about his mother, Vanessa. When Dahlia considered that, she knew she couldn’t say no.

“...All right. But if you make it too long, it’ll stick out of the glass.”

“Okay, then today we’ll snap it into smaller pieces, and later, we can special order glasses—as tall as possible and wide enough to fit a piece this size.”

“Wouldn’t those be hard to drink from...?”

Dahlia thought of the graduated cylinders from her previous world. She couldn’t imagine drinking alcohol from a glass that tall.

“Nah, it’ll be fine! Oh, right—what should this sword’s name be?”

Dahlia took a glance at Volf’s innocent smile. As she pondered a name for the sword, she prayed they wouldn’t really end up drinking from graduated cylinders.

She imagined the sound the blade of ice would make clattering around in a glass of alcohol.

“If we want to go simple, it could be the Sword-Shaped Ice Magical Sword.”

“Uh-huh... That sure is what it is...”

Volf regarded her as he might have regarded a pitiful child. Please don’t give me that look. The name perfectly describes its functions, doesn’t it?

“Okay, then. I hand over the responsibility of naming the sword to you, Volf.”

“All right. It reminds me of a beautiful insect wing, so how about the Ice-Wing Sword?”

“Interesting... I like it!”

Even though it was just ice, that was quite an apt description of its appearance. And Ice-Wing Sword had a nice ring to it.

“Now I can practice creating ice with my brother.”

“Practice? With Lord Guido?” Dahlia asked in surprise.

How was Volf going to join Guido, a mage, in practicing ice magic?

“Yeah. My brother has been using his wand to make ice sculptures in the shapes of giant flowers behind the villa. He said he wants to show them off to his wife and Gloria. I think he wants to make an ice rose, but they keep turning out looking like lotuses.”

So Guido had begun using his wand for artistic pursuits, then. Dahlia would be curious to see those ice flowers for herself.

“Master Jonas has been practicing too—he’s been working on extending his flames straight up in the air and changing their color. He’s already managed to change them from red to orange, and he thinks he can get them closer to white too. It was so fun to watch, I told him he was like a street performer. He went pretty hard on me when we sparred afterward...” Volf said with a shamefaced grin.

He had brought that fate on himself. Of course a remark like that would set Jonas off. But in any case, Jonas’s sword was, at most, useful for illumination. It seemed only natural that he was now employing it to make light art. Dahlia wished she could see that as well.

But compared to those two weapons, this Ice-Wing Sword of Volf’s was just thin, brittle ice. It couldn’t be used to spar, let alone for beast hunting.

“I bet you want a real, powerful sword. I can’t make something like that yet, but you’d probably want it sooner than later for your missions, right?”

“No, I don’t mind if it takes some time. You’ve done so much to make fighting monsters easier, and the squad is getting more bow knights and mages, so that should help reduce the danger we face. And most importantly, it’s fun watching you make the swords like this.”

“Well, I’m glad, but...”

“Plus, I think your magical swords are getting stronger. I bet by the time we both have gray hair, you’ll have made a magical sword that’s powerful enough to fell a dragon...”

A dreamy look came over Volf’s eyes. It made Dahlia wonder: Did he really expect this process would take until they were both old and gray, dozens of years from now? She was sure she would never make a sword capable of felling a dragon. Even a sword capable of felling a wyvern would tax her abilities to their limit.

Still, it was a pleasant thought, spending so many years making magical swords with Volf. If it did take that long to complete the sword, it would be that much more time with him—although of course, she had no reason to think they would stop meeting even after the sword was complete.

“Sorry, Dahlia. I shouldn’t mention going gray to a lady...”

Volf’s voice brought Dahlia’s attention back to the present. He must have taken her silence for offense. The estervino and the wine seemed to have gone to her head, much more so than she had expected.

“It’s okay. I was just thinking about what sword to make next. I want to create a great, powerful magical sword by the time our hair goes gray.”

Dahlia smiled brightly and offered a silent prayer for their success.

At the Scalfarotto villa, advanced mages were drilling in fire magic. Since the family was soon to be elevated to a marquisate, they had hired several new mages in order to reinforce their house’s fighting power. Or perhaps they had summoned the castle mages, who were now sparring with each other using ice and fire magic.

Such, at any rate, were the rumors currently circulating among the nobility.

When they had gotten back to Jonas through the Scalfarotto family’s informants, he’d been powerless to suppress the smile that had tugged at his lips. It was not the fire magic of advanced mages that had sparked those rumors but the flames of his own magical sword, the Night Piercer, jetting high into the night sky.

Many nobles had their mansions in the North District of the capital. It was perfectly commonplace to witness their children practicing their magic there. As long as they did so within the grounds of their own homes and did not take things too far—for instance, by creating a ruckus at night, allowing their magic to escape onto other people’s property, or injuring bystanders so badly they had to be taken to the temple for treatment—there was no trouble.

An attendant like Jonas could not train at the castle, and training at the main Scalfarotto residence would have been a little too conspicuous. Moreover, Guido, who was training alongside him, wanted to be able to use his Ice Spider Wand without his wife’s or his daughter’s knowledge. Thus, they had resorted to Volf’s villa and were now practicing on the grounds behind it.

It was a moonless night—perfect for Jonas’s flames to glow bright.

Two magical lanterns sat on nearby chairs, beside which healing mages were on standby. Jonas had informed them that he would not require a high potion, but he suspected there was one for him in the black leather bag next to the chairs.

The other day, Jonas and Guido had dueled with the Night Piercer and the Ice Spider Wand. Things had gotten a little out of hand, so they had promised to never spar like that again, and Guido’s wife, Rosaria, had made them put that promise in writing, for she would not otherwise have trusted them to uphold it.

Jonas rolled up the sleeves of his attendant’s uniform and drew his sword from its red sheath. He focused his overpowering magic into the sword and conjured a pillar of fire, which he then held up to the sky.

Its deep red hue changed to bright scarlet, then to orange, and finally to yellow. If he pushed himself to the limits of his concentration, he could make the flames even longer and almost white. When he did so, the brightly flickering flames reached so high they did indeed seem almost to pierce the sky.

It was great fun, but Volf’s comment the other day—that Jonas looked like a street performer—had taken the wind out of his sails. Just when he’d nearly achieved the color white, Volf had ruined the moment.

Later, when they sparred, Jonas had attacked Volf so fiercely that the knight’s training sword had broken, but he had still managed to hold his own. His pupil was a quick study.

Jonas’s right hand seemed perfectly adapted to the sword; the flames did not burn his skin. He had rolled up his sleeve as a precaution, but his attendant’s uniform was reinforced with heat resistance and had not been so much as singed.

The problem was his hair. It was the only part of him that was completely vulnerable. He would certainly not want for it to be burned off, so he made sure to keep the flames well away from it.

Once he was finished with his exercises, he lowered his sword and waited for the blade to cool down.

“Another lotus...”

Guido had waved his Ice Spider Wand with a look of great concentration, but as he said, the result was another ice flower that more closely resembled a lotus than a rose. The petals were a little more rounded than before, but it still wasn’t quite there. Guido let the flower drop to the ground, then tightened his grip on his wand.

“If I can just rotate the magic a little bit and make it bloom rapidly...”

As Guido mumbled to himself, he continued waving his Ice Spider Wand, causing small ice particles to freeze together in a ramified shape that did resemble a certain white flower.

“Lord Guido, is that baby’s breath?”

Guido, understandably discouraged by his repeated failures, let his shoulders slump. “It’s not supposed to be...”

But ice magic was not easy to control. Jonas searched for the right words, then hit on something that might make Guido feel better.

“I think it might please Miss Gloria. I know she adores pretty flowers.”

“Ah, of course! I shall add this to my repertoire, then!”

Guido flashed a smile that made him look just like his brother Volf.

“Brother, Master Jonas!”

The man himself came running over right at that moment. Jonas had been unaware that Volf was coming today, and he wasn’t carrying a training sword, so perhaps he was here to watch their training session.

But no sooner had Jonas considered that possibility than Volf asked, “Do you mind if I join?”

“Not at all,” Guido responded. “If you want to practice your swings, I can have an iron sword brought out for you. Or if you want to spar with Jonas, a training sword—”

“No, I brought my own sword! Dahlia made it for me!”

Volf smiled from ear to ear as he produced a decorative sword hilt. At that moment, a stinging pain spread across Jonas’s brow, and he instinctively braced himself. He immediately scanned their surroundings but found nothing. He wasn’t even certain why he’d sensed such imminent danger.

“Volf, what is that...?” Guido asked.

“It’s the Ice-Wing Sword! I came to report to you about it!” Volf said enthusiastically.

Jonas’s incomprehension only deepened. Volf carried only a hilt. Technically it had a guard as well, but there was neither blade nor sheath.

“There are ice crystals inside the hilt. I can make the blade like this!”

Volf gripped the hilt in both hands, and a spear of translucent ice extended swiftly upward. It was too thin to serve as a proper blade—more like the wing of an insect.

“Ah, it is like Dame Vanessa’s ice sword...” Guido remarked.

“Yes, Dahlia made a magical sword only I can use! Ah...”

The ice blade snapped off and fell to the ground. Volf’s golden eyes followed it forlornly before looking back to the hilt.

“I need to practice getting it to last longer... Brother, Master Jonas, please continue with your training!”

“...Yes, so we shall.”

Guido faced away from Volf and bit down hard on his lip.

Volf had sat in on their training sessions before—to watch, to practice his own swordsmanship, or to throw the Galeforce Blades. Now he was creating an ice sword like his mother had.

Even Jonas could see Volf’s resemblance to his mother, Vanessa Scalfarotto. She’d had long black hair, fair skin, and a handsome countenance, all traits her son shared. As a knight, she had encased her slender steel sword in ice to perform swordsmanship as beautiful as a dance.

Volf could not wield ice magic, and yet now he had obtained a magic similar to his mother’s. Though it was mediated by a magical tool, it was clear from Volf’s face how much that meant to him.

As Jonas continued to stare, another blade of ice began to grow from the hilt in Volf’s hands. Just when it reached the length of a normal sword, it broke off again.

“This is pretty difficult...” he muttered dejectedly.

“How does it work?” Guido asked.

“Let’s see—there are magical circuits inside to control the ice magic, and they were enchanted with some powdered ice dragon scale...”

Now Jonas understood why he had felt that faint but real danger. It had to be because of the ice dragon scale. Jonas was possessed by a fire dragon. Of course he could not help but react to his natural enemy.

Before Jonas was able to respond, Guido said, “I see. It breaks so easily because it’s merely ice.” He walked over to Volf. “I wonder if it has to do with large fluctuations in the magic. Volf, try making the blade more slowly.”

As Volf did so, Guido placed his right hand over his brother’s joined hands.

“I knew it. I feel the undulations in the magic. Keep it uniform—go slowly, as if sheathing a longsword.”

“Okay!”

Limited as his magic was, Volf had no experience regulating or making fine adjustments to its flow, nor had he ever had the opportunity to learn. In consequence, merely keeping the flow even as he channeled it into the hilt’s circuitry was a challenge for him.

Fine control of magic was hardly necessary to use everyday magical tools or temporary support tools. Those with high magic were obliged, from childhood onward, to spend a great deal of time learning to control it. From today onward, Volf, too, would have to learn.

In any case, it seemed the two brothers were having fun together.

“Now that you have an ice sword, let’s test to see how long we can make it. You make the blade, and I’ll reinforce it with my ice magic.”

“Please do, brother!”

Guido used his magic to encase the growing blade in ice, turning it pure white. It continued to grow without breaking.

Jonas felt a chill run through him and found he could not look away. The length of the blade surpassed that of an ordinary sword, and still it continued to grow. Shortly after it became longer than Volf was tall, Guido pulled his hand away.

“Let’s stop there. Any more than this and it will be hard to swing.”

“Thank you!”

Jonas felt a small headache come on as the brothers exchanged matching smiles.

He wouldn’t have expected Volf to notice the lethal possibilities of this tool, but Guido could not have missed them—unless perhaps his sense of danger was dulled while he was preoccupied with his adorable brother. Jonas would have to lecture...that is, strongly counsel Guido later.

It was frightening to contemplate a weapon with such an unpredictable range, to say nothing of an apparently harmless object with the power to kill. Volf’s sword could be made into an effective weapon for the purpose of assassination, as the hilt could be concealed inside other objects.

If one was not effective, you could employ several, or perhaps one just to harm and then— Jonas stopped his dark train of thought there.

Now was not the time to issue a warning. When next they met to discuss weapon development, he would bring it to Volf’s attention as a possible application for the sword. Of course, he would make sure Master Dahlia was with him, and he would make sure they both fully understood.

“It seems you’ve got yourself another impressive magical sword there, Volf,” Jonas said.

“Yes, I’ll keep practicing with it!” Volf replied with an innocent smile, missing the light sarcasm Jonas had tried to inject into his delivery. “Ah, by the way, Dahlia wants to see your ice rose, brother. And your Night Piercer street per... I mean, color changing flames, Master Jonas!”

“...Hmm.”

Jonas did not miss the fact that Volf had almost said “street performance.” He would have to teach him another lesson during their next sparring session. Perhaps he could remove the bracelet around his right wrist for the occasion.

“Certainly,” Guido agreed. “She was involved in their development, so I’m sure she is curious about how we’re using them. Volf, invite her here to the villa, won’t you? But have her come at night—otherwise it will be hard to see the flames of Jonas’s sword. And since she’ll be here anyway, we may as well have dinner together, followed by a relaxing round of drinks.”

“Okay, I’ll let Dahlia know!”

As the brothers kept smiling, Jonas’s headache worsened.

Should he warn Volf about the implications of inviting an unmarried woman to his villa at night, of which he seemed so unaware? Or should he invent some pretext to brush aside the web Guido was so gleefully spinning?

He thought about it for a moment but ultimately decided that he was an attendant of the Scalfarotto family and as such would keep his mouth shut tight.

However, that only worsened his headache. He decided he would ask the vice-chairman of the Rossetti Trading Company to recommend a good headache medicine.

The Witch of Ordine and the Ant of Išrana

“Haldard says you are as beautiful—no, more beautiful than ever.”

“Thank you for bringing me a bottle of Lion’s Tears again this year. I do look forward to drinking it.”

Mitona had handed a maid a bottle of liquor from Išrana called Lion’s Tears. It was made with fermented white grapes and rivaled fuoco in terms of alcohol content. He didn’t think it was the type of drink Altea Gastoni, the lovely noblewoman who thanked him, would like, but she smiled elegantly at him.

This was Mitona’s first time meeting Altea.

Her porcelain white skin was free of wrinkles and her eyes were a mesmerizing shade of deep jade that seemed to pull him in. Her lustrous blonde hair fell in long, loose waves, draping over the shoulders of her black dress and her ample bosom.

Mitona had memorized the information about her beforehand, but her beauty made him doubt her age.

How was it that even up close, he could see no spots or wrinkles on her face? Was this the work of Ordine’s superior luxury cosmetics or a bitter powder made from monster parts that stopped aging? Or was it magic—they called her a witch, after all—or a family secret, or—

“After a journey over sand and gravel roads, welcome to the Kingdom of Ordine. I would like to invite you both to speak at ease,” Altea said in flawlessly pronounced Išranic, interrupting Mitona’s strange line of thought.

Even her command of expressions used by high-ranking women was flawless. It was clear his interpreting services were not required here.

He thought he might be asked to leave the room, but the maid placed three teacups on the low table.

“I will embrace your offer, then. I struggle with Ordinato, as it is quite a difficult language,” Yusef replied in Išranic.

He then turned toward Mitona and gave him a look inviting him to sit down with him.

Mitona meant to lower himself as slowly as possible, but the shortsword beneath his tunic hit against his belt and made a sound.

The shoulder of the bodyguard standing diagonally behind Altea moved slightly. He didn’t meet Mitona’s gaze, instead feigning to be looking at nothing in particular, but the guard of his sword was peeking further out of its sheath. He seemed to be quite wary of Mitona.

“We should let those more capable take care of what is difficult for us. You have a very skilled interpreter. Isn’t that right, Mitona?” Altea said, addressing him by name before he had even given it.

Mitona smiled. “Thank you for your generous words. I would prefer to keep my job, so I am very much inclined to agree.”

“The last time Yusef came to visit, he boasted quite a bit about a young man named Mitona who could act as both his interpreter and bodyguard. I told him to bring you along next time.”

Mitona looked reflexively at Yusef sitting beside him. Yusef glanced back at him, then picked up his teacup without saying a word.

Mitona was shocked that Yusef had boasted about him, a subordinate with little training, to the dowager duchess. He wanted to ask him about it in depth later.

“Have you already met with Jonas?” Altea asked.

“Yes, he seems well,” Yusef answered with a smile.

Can you really call that a meeting? Mitona kept his question to himself.

Business was certainly one of the reasons for their visit to Ordine. However, Yusef’s main objective was Jonas. He had crossed borders just to see him. Additionally, he came bearing substantial gifts for Jonas’s birth family, the Goodwin family, and his employer, the Scalfarotto family.

When they had met, Jonas stayed behind Guido and gave only a formal thank-you. He did not speak to Yusef directly.

At Yusef’s invitation for Jonas to come to the desert empire, Guido had laughed the offer off, saying he wouldn’t know what to do without Jonas. Jonas himself had said nothing.

He and Yusef were not related by blood, but Yusef’s wife, Nadja, was Jonas’s mother.

Jonas had left the Goodwin family at an early age and was now working the dangerous job of a bodyguard. Moreover, his birth father had passed away, which meant the family was currently undergoing a change in leadership. He probably couldn’t go back to them.

His mother Nadja was wrought with worry.

In Išrana, a life in which he would want for nothing as Yusef Haldard’s and Nadja’s son awaited him. The Haldard Company had grown large, and Yusef could appoint Jonas to a position worthy of his talents.

It also seemed that some people here in Ordine shunned blighted individuals, but that was not so in Išrana. In fact, in Išrana, people felt awe and reverence for draconic species. One possessed by a fire dragon would be worshipped there.

And yet he insisted on staying in this kingdom. Was that because he was fully an Ordinato citizen, or was it due to his nature as a knight? In either case, Mitona could not understand it.

“I had a meeting with the Rossetti Trading Company. They are as I have heard.”

“I recommend staying on good terms with the Rossetti Trading Company for the foreseeable future. Speak to Vice-Chairman Ivano regarding business. I believe that will make things move quickest,” Altea said.

Mitona wondered if perhaps Altea had the man named Ivano entangled in her strings. As he considered that, he scooped three heaping spoonfuls of sugar into his tea. He truly wanted to add double that amount, but he figured he ought to only do that in the privacy of his room at the inn.

“I also asked Chairman Rossetti to look after Jonas.”

“You asked her yourself?”

“Yes. I went down on one knee and asked her to look after my son.”

Mitona’s ears perked up. Yusef hadn’t told him that part.

So that was how Yusef had used his little time alone with Chairwoman Rossetti. But why had he gotten down on his knee? Such a thing was hardly incumbent upon a wealthy merchant who did business directly with the emperor of Išrana.

“She is the second woman in this kingdom of whom I have asked the same boon. After you.”

“Yes, I recall. You came to see me and brought a bottle of Lion’s Tears. I thought you were here to promote your company, but instead, you asked me to protect your son Jonas. I was quite taken aback.”

“And I was very grateful when you listened to what I had to say.”

This was another interaction of which Mitona had been wholly unaware. Although it was not his place to interrupt.

“Did you ask Jonas to come back with you to Išrana again?”

“Yes. He ignored my offer, but that was expected. I believe he has found himself a lovely woman.”

“A lovely woman?” Altea repeated quizzically with her teacup in hand.

Yusef smiled. “Yes, he took the roll of woman’s fabric I gave to Lord Guido. I wonder if he intends to give it to that woman someday.”

“I’m pleased to hear that he has someone like that in his life.”

“As am I. I wonder if perhaps he means to give it to Chairwoman Rossetti.”

“Pardon?”

“Jonas said that Chairwoman Rossetti is a trustworthy woman, and Chairwoman Rossetti called Jonas a dear friend—”

Altea swiftly opened her black fan over her scarlet lips. She spoke in a low voice.

“She is off-limits.”

“I know. It would be impossible to bring an advisor of the Royal Order of Beast Hunters and a company chairwoman with close ties to Ordine’s Merchants Guild back to Išrana with Jonas. Not to mention that they will both be receiving baronies in the spring. It is unfortunate, but I have decided this visit is the last time I invite Jonas to come to Išrana.”

Mitona secretly felt relieved that Yusef was giving up on bringing Jonas home.

His thoughts turned to the red-haired chairwoman. Her mild-mannered and intellectual demeanor was like soft white silk, but the fact that she was an advisor to the Beast Hunters and a chairwoman indicated that she was hard as steel on the inside.

“Do not interfere with her romantic affairs. That is all I ask, Yusef.”

“Understood. I cannot deny that the thought occurred to me, but I do not want to be buried in sand. Or, what do they say in Ordine? To be stomped on by a sleipnir?”

At Yusef’s words, Altea slowly closed her black fan. She looked straight at the chairman with her dark jade eyes.

“Yusef, do you still intend to pay to ensure Jonas’s peace and safety? Your wife’s son, whom you cannot bring back to Išrana?”

“Of course. I will pay whatever I can in order to protect our son,” Yusef replied without a moment’s hesitation. His words stung Mitona’s ears.

“There are few people from my faction who have their eye on Guido. Perhaps it’s about time you make a friend from another faction?”

There were three main noble factions in this kingdom: the southern faction, to which the Altea and Gastoni families belonged; the northern faction, which included the Warlock family, famous for their civil works; and the neutral faction, which included the eleven Goodwin families.

Mitona knew that much from documents he’d read, but apparently Altea was capable of crossing factional lines.

“Tell me your price for an introduction. I will pay it.”

“Hmm, let’s see... I want a long bridal veil from Išrana. Made with white monster silk and stitched with golden thread.”

“Very well. That will take half a year. Is that acceptable?”

“Yes. It might even be too soon, but it’s best to start preparations for a celebration early. I will write a letter in advance to my mentor.”

The woman gave a bewitching smile. In this country, she was known as the Gastoni Witch, but to Mitona, she was the Witch of Ordine.

Who could possibly be the mentor of a witch? Another witch, a demon queen, a devil? No good possibility came to mind.

“I see you have a penchant for sweets, Mitona,” Altea observed.

The sudden utterance of his name almost made him choke. He was glad he had already finished drinking his tea.

“Yes, very much so,” Mitona answered, thinking he would happily take a sugary confection right now. Just then, the duchess’s maid approached and presented him with a sealed letter.

“There is an exquisite confectionery near your inn,” said Altea. “Please enjoy whatever you like from there.”

“Thank you very much!”

It seemed Altea would cover the cost of any sweets that he ate. The question was how much was too much, but he decided to consult with Yusef about it later.

“You can also use that to order some fatty cured meat and have as much of it delivered to your room as you like. Carrying it would be too much trouble, don’t you think?”

At Altea’s overly sweet voice and the wave of magic that pushed against him, Mitona’s fangs almost lengthened. As he shut his mouth and clenched his teeth, Yusef replied in his place.

“I see you are well-informed about Mitona’s tastes. Thank you very much for your thoughtfulness, Lady Altea.”

Sweet sugar and rich, fatty meat. Such was the sustenance he required—the sustenance essential to maintain his magic.

“Of course. Mitona is your bodyguard. He should eat as much as he wants so he can work hard for you. Your safety is of utmost importance, Yusef.”

What an exceptional woman. Her words convinced him. She was beautiful and tenacious, a perfect queen ant—

“Mitona, as one blighted by a giant ant, is there anything else you like?”

“I am fond of honey,” he answered frankly, then felt abashed. He had been lost in his own runaway thoughts.

But the fact that Altea knew of his giant ant blight, something that wasn’t known in either Ehrlichia or Ordine, made him wonder just how far-reaching this witch’s arms were.

Yusef chuckled in the back of his throat. It was a comfort that they were amicable.

“I’ll have it delivered later. Apple liquor for you, Yusef?”

“I eagerly look forward to it,” Yusef replied with a wide grin. In Išrana, he was limited to one drink every other day.

Mitona felt a pang of guilt as he thought of Nadja, but he decided to turn a blind eye to it while they were in Ordine.

“Well then, let us call it a day,” Altea said. “Do come back to visit again before you return to Išrana. Instead of tea, I’ll make sure to have plenty of spirits and confections for us to partake in.”

“It would be our pleasure. I will also bring you black silk that will look becoming on you.”

It sounded like Mitona was also being included as a guest to this drinking party. He sincerely looked forward to it.

Yusef and Mitona said their goodbyes to Altea, then left the room.

The moment the door closed behind them, Mitona’s sharp hearing picked up on a sigh.

“Oh, what am I going to do about that poor little puppy... I wonder what would work better, the carrot or the stick?”

Mitona had no way to discern whether she spoke of a real dog or not, but he said a prayer for its well-being in any case.

After Yusef and Mitona left, Altea moved to her study.

“It has been a while since I’ve written a letter to my mentor,” she said as she dipped her quill pen into the inkpot the maid had shaken up for her.

It was her signature ink—black, tinged with green and gold. She used it often to write letters, but this was the first time in quite a while she was writing a letter to this particular recipient.

The last message she had received from that individual was an apology in elegant script: “I believe it is now my time to retire. Unfortunately, my hands no longer work as they used to, so I hope you’ll forgive me for reducing our correspondence.” The sender was an older noblewoman whom Altea looked up to as a mentor.

The higher the rank a noble held, the more responsibilities and obligations they were burdened with. But for women, unlike men, it was more acceptable to form ties across factional lines in the form of friendships or mentor and mentee relationships.

Of course, if such a relationship caused detriment to one’s house, then one would either have to end the relationship or be expelled from one’s family.

Before Altea married into the Dukedom Gastoni, her mother had introduced her to a friend. Unlike Altea’s mother and the other older ladies she knew, this woman, who belonged to a different faction, advised her against acting the part of a refined noblewoman; she should make the best use of her strong points, be they beauty, knowledge, or economic power, and socialize with different factions, listen to others speak, and always have her hands on the latest information.

The knowledge that had been freely shared with her and the personal connections she was introduced to shaped Altea into the duchess she became.

However, that mentor had gradually pulled away from her, citing her age as an excuse, and in her stead, her son’s wife reached out to her. She and Altea had a good relationship as well, but Altea personally felt there was always something missing.

Altea had heard that her mentor had resumed writing letters some time ago, but none had reached Altea yet.

“My mentor claimed she retired, but I just can’t believe that to be true. Do you?” Altea asked her maid as she thought of how to begin the letter.

The maid gave her a troubled look. “I believe some people desire to lead a quiet life...”

“She was just taking a long break. I think it’s about time to rouse her from her dozing.”

As she spoke, Altea began to write. Her once poor handwriting had been corrected by her mentor into beautiful penmanship. Come to think of it, I’ve never thanked her for that.

She wrote at length, dipping her pen continually in the inkpot as she filled two pages of stationery.

What Yusef wanted was Jonas’s safety. To that end, it would be best to form a connection not only with the southern faction, of which Altea was a part, but the northern faction as soon as possible.

This arrangement also worked in Altea’s favor. Now, the competent Yusef and his expanding business owed her a debt. And she could probably have the D’Orazi family of the northern faction owe her a favor in the same fell swoop.

Above all, she wanted to extend her influence in a way that did not get in the way of a certain cute puppy.

“How does it read?”

The knight close at hand dried the ink on the pages using a dryer for letters as he checked her writing.

“You have clearly expressed your eager wish for her return... However, it might be read as a bit pushy,” he replied frankly.

Altea smiled and responded, “Come, how can she resist when it’s her lovable mentee sending her a ticket? I think she will return to the stage with a smile, don’t you?”

Neither the maid nor the knight responded. They both smiled awkwardly.

The wife of a noble head of family, current or former, never fully retired. She always carried the responsibility of the family and their rank on her back. The only escape was the end of her life—that was what her mentor had taught her.

Right now, she was resting for a bit on the wings of the stage, waiting for her moment to reappear. There could be no higher honor for Altea than to be the one calling her to return to the center stage.

She looked forward to being on the same stage, not to be guided by her as she had been in youth, but as her equal match.

“Let us dance together once again, my mentor— No, All-Prepared.”

The Elderly Knight’s Sparring Match and the Twins’ Hand

In the conference room of the Order of Beast Hunters’ wing in the castle, Dahlia, Captain Grato, and Ivano were looking over the contents of the report regarding the test run of the mimicry gear.

The squad had worn the mimicry gear, derived from the expedition nightwear, to see if it could be used to corral monsters.

The pillow squirrel gear, the cutest garment, had been too big for other pillow squirrels to register it as being one of their own, nor did it have much of an effect on the fangdeer. Dahlia had expected as much.

The red bear had been effective, but it had made the fangdeer panic. The squad planned to test the garment out again on the next expedition to see if it had just been a bit too much of a shock for them or if the effect would change with or without a roar.

Dahlia wondered who had roared. Randolph had worn the red bear nightwear during the presentation, so it had probably been him. But Dahlia had never heard a bear roar, so she had trouble imagining it.

As for the black wolf gear that Volf had worn, it had been successful in getting the fangdeer to run in one direction, so it seemed to be the most effective of the mimicry gear for corralling. Red bears were solitary hunters, while black wolves hunted in packs, so perhaps that explained things.

Volf hadn’t mentioned howling when they had last met up, but she decided to ask him about it later.

Once they reached that point in the report, Ivano cocked his head and said, “This might be an obvious question, but can the squad not use their intimidation to restrain monsters?”

“It is effective when it actually works, but it could just as easily make them panic. If that happens, there’s no knowing where they’ll run off to. They might also charge at us heedless of getting injured, and monsters with magical power might let it out in an explosive burst. Sometimes monsters unleash magic in all directions without regard for their own kind. That ends up becoming an even bigger problem...”

“I see.”

“We have also had a knight use intimidation in order to save another knight only for the herd of monsters to charge for that singular knight. They trampled him mercilessly—”

“Captain, please don’t speak of that,” Griswald interrupted in a low voice.

It was clear from that reaction who had been trampled, but Dahlia decided not to comment.

Lastly, they discussed the forest serpent gear. The fangdeer had actually chased the wearer of that one instead of the other way around. They had wondered initially if it had to do with the knight’s build, but the fangdeer had even chased after the larger knights who tried on the garment.

There were two theories. The first was that other monsters preyed on small forest serpents. It was true that they tasted delicious drizzled with sweet sauce, after all. And they were not poisonous. It was certainly a possibility.

The second theory was that since they were a natural predator of the fangdeer, the fangdeer sought to kill them before they reached a larger size. That seemed plausible, but something about it didn’t sit right with Dahlia.

“Are there many small forest serpents in forests?”

“We’re not sure,” Grato answered. “There are many types of green snakes, so we’ve never paid attention to their number.”

“We have never had the capacity to notice that. In the past, we only judged whether they were edible or not,” the knight sitting next to Grato explained.

Dahlia could only imagine how harsh the conditions on those expeditions had been if the knights had incorporated small snakes into their diet.

“We have a plan to capture as many green snakes as we can next time an expedition takes us to a forest or hillside. If we bring them to the castle, we can have them measure each one’s magical power to tell us if it’s a forest serpent or not.”

The next expedition would not only be a beast hunting mission but also one to capture green snakes. It was a bit scary to think about.

“Their wagons will be loaded full of snakes on the way back...” Ivano muttered. Dahlia wished he would stop helping her imagine it.

“Who would be in charge of measuring the snakes’ magic?”

Carmine, who was sitting diagonally across the table, explained with a smile, “The third section of the magical toolmaking department. As a thank-you to the squad for catching their runaway baphomets twice now.”

Dahlia had never visited the third section of the department, and she felt even more strongly that she didn’t need to.

“If one is identified as a forest serpent, the Adventurers’ Guild will help with its research and cultivation.”

“Then, in another ten or so years, we might be able to have the pleasure of patronizing a grilled forest serpent stall,” Ivano commented.

“Actually, it might be sooner than that,” Grato quipped back, and everyone laughed.

“Next, we will discuss the improvements made to the expedition nightwear. I will let Vice-Director Carmine over from here,” the knight facilitating the meeting said.

Carmine distributed documents to everyone. He had used Lucia’s expedition nightwear as a base to make a reversible garment with a camouflage design on one side. Knights who had been injured and were withdrawing from the battlefront, as well as mages, would wear the garment with the camouflage side facing out. Additionally, the portable warm air circulators had been reworked to blow both warm and cool air and to allow for better airflow.

More modifications still needed to be made, but the garments should considerably improve the knights’ sleeping conditions on expeditions.

Carmine was also trying a new approach with the expedition nightwear.

“The librarea is a garment that supports the wearer to make them glide. It is designed to look like a pillow squirrel and enchanted with skybat. Lord Forto of the Tailors’ Guild helped come up with the name,” Carmine explained. Forto’s naming sense was always impeccable.

“Sir Kirk tried it on the other day, and he was able to glide quite far with the aid of his air magic. The use of air magic is required to cushion the landing, so not everyone in the squad will be able to wear it...”

Finally, the garment had become a true pillow squirrel.

However, according to the documents, while the back was camouflage, the belly was a blue so pale it was almost white. It was probably intended as a way to scout the terrain while being as inconspicuous as possible.

“Lord Carmine, I see here that you are using skybat bone. Do you have enough for future enchantments?”

“Yes, not to worry. Earl Goodwin of the borderland has given us ten skybats after destroying a new nest that was made within their territory. Ah, that skull I brought here the other day was one of those. We have plenty in our storage.”

“Skybats, eh? I wonder if their numbers are increasing or if they’re moving about. They’re fast flyers, which makes them hard to deal with. Not to mention...”

“Captain! We have the Galeforce Bows now. They can try to fly or flee, but we can just aim for their heads.”

Dahlia recalled the day she’d accompanied the squad on an armored crab mission. They had indeed killed a skybat swiftly. She remembered the skybat and what she had imagined was its look of disbelief, then shook the image away.

“You’re right. We also discussed doubling our budget for more bows in our morning meeting. I want to improve the effectiveness of our long-range attacks.”

“Oh, how great! Finally, our time has come!” a bow knight exclaimed with a smile.

Dahlia felt relieved. She hoped the squad could increase their long-range attacks and make everyone a little bit safer. Doing so would bring in the era of bow knights.

“I also want to give the knights more breaks. We’re currently discussing whether we can increase our number of sleipnirs and swap knights in and out during expeditions.”

“Shouldn’t you be the first to take a long vacation, Captain Grato?”

“No, we’ll first start with the younger knights. If they can take more holidays and substitute out of expeditions after a certain length of time, they can go on more dates. That should help lower the ratio of unmarried knights. Don’t you think so, Rossetti?”

It was a good joke. Dahlia returned Grato’s smile and said, “Yes, I hope so, for the prosperity of the Kingdom of Ordine.”

Once the meeting was over, Dahlia and Ivano left to head back to the office.

The sun was still high in the sky, and Volf and the knights were currently training. His face had been grave as he told her they were sparring with Bernigi and the other older knights today. Dahlia was sure they had much to learn from those seasoned veterans.

As soon as they exited the Order of Beast Hunters’ wing, they saw Jonas in a knight’s uniform.

“Ah, Master Dahlia. Just who I wanted to see.”

When he spotted them, he came walking over at a surprisingly brisk pace.

Once he was close, his rust-colored eyes narrowed slightly and his lips curved upward.

“Marcella and Irma’s babies have just been born. Two boys. Both mother and children are healthy.”

“That’s great news!” Dahlia blurted out in excitement.

Ivano also smiled and voiced similar sentiments.

Her memories suddenly flooded in—that rainy day when Marcella had come to her, when she’d heard Irma’s decision, the day she had made the magic-absorbing bracelet with everyone’s help, and the couple’s happy smiles after it was done—and she was unable to speak. Her heart was full to bursting with gratitude.

“You are invited to celebrate our knight’s happy occasion six days from now, Master Dahlia.”

“Yes, of course!”

It was a custom in Ordine for friends to wait six days before visiting newborns. The first five days were reserved for the family. Dahlia was going to wait to decide when to go based on how Irma was feeling, but since her friend was well, then she would visit on the sixth day.

Irma had requested vegetable soup, liver, cheese paste, and milk pudding, so Dahlia would make plenty to bring her. As she thought about that, Jonas continued.

“Well, I will go tell Lord Volf now. I was on my way to the training grounds to perform some equipment checks anyway.”

“Thank you for letting me know, Master Jonas.”

It was strange that Jonas had come to the Order of Beast Hunters’ wing to tell her, but it sounded like the timing had just worked out. Marcella was a knight for the Scalfarotto family, so they must have been the first to get the news.

After she watched Jonas’s receding form for a bit, she and Ivano resumed walking.

“It’s going to be hard to wait until we can go to the temple, don’t you agree, Chairwoman?”

“Yes, I can’t wait to meet the adorable twins!”

Dahlia imagined Irma and Marcella each holding one of the babies and couldn’t stop from smiling. She was so thrilled, she wished she could go to the temple right this second to shout her congratulations. She controlled herself enough to keep from skipping, but her steps did quicken.

Before she knew it, Ivano was no longer next to her. She whipped around and saw him a few steps back with his hands pressed to his temples.

“Ivano, are you okay?!”

“I’m fine. The sunlight reflecting off the windows is just a little blinding... Today we’ll be inspecting and stamping the camp stoves, yes?”

“Yes, let’s work hard!”

Dahlia restarted her quick pace while Ivano followed a half step behind her.

“I’m sure other babies would be cute too...” he muttered too quietly for Dahlia to hear.

On the castle grounds, the Beast Hunters were training and sparring with each other.

Among the group, there were two who sparred with training swords that clashed so loudly one would have thought they were real swords.

A middle-aged knight with golden-brown hair deftly parried the unceasing blows of a young blue-haired knight. The middle-aged knight moved with dexterity unexpected in one with a prosthetic right hand.

“Not bad for a youngster. Your movements are very clean.”

“Oh, shut up!”

Dorino struck the smiling middle-aged knight’s sword down hard and then plunged forward toward his chest. However, the sword he knocked downward hadn’t fallen to the ground but swung back up and hit Dorino in the knee. He almost lost his balance but managed to pivot and hold his stance. He switched his sword to his left hand and swung it sideways.

That swift attack connected perfectly with his opponent’s right arm. The training sword cracked with a crunching sound. His sword had lost against the solidity of the magical prosthesis.

“Sorry, sir. This arm’s a real durable one.”

The middle-aged knight smirked, and Dorino did not offer his usual comeback.

In his silence, his eyes gleamed dangerously. He looked to the side, where a nearby green-haired knight offered his training sword to him. Dorino gave the sword two practice swings. It sliced through the air with a ringing sound.

“Keep going, recruit!”

“Yes, sir!”

Their fight increased in intensity, and the surrounding knights began to give them space. By all accounts, it looked more like true combat than a sparring match.

“Look at them go!” Bernigi exclaimed.

“I just hope they don’t get hurt...”

Across from Bernigi, a black-haired knight who was the picture of beauty was wiping himself off with a towel. They had also just been sparring and were now taking a break.

The knight with dark blue hair’s swordsmanship had shown remarkable growth. As Bernigi, too, wiped himself off, he thought to himself that the middle-aged knight could stand to lighten up on his teasing, even if it was clear how much fun he was having.

He heard a heavy clashing sound from another direction.

“Oho, the strong arm competition has begun,” he remarked.

“That sort of sound would make a monster flee,” Volf said.

At the edge of the training grounds, Randolph and a one-eyed knight with white hair were sparring with their broad shields.

One way to fight monsters was to bludgeon them with a broad shield. The heavier the shield, the more effective the blow, but the amount of strength it took to wield them made them difficult to use.

Randolph swung his shield upward to the right, and his opponent stopped it from above with a loud clang. At the deafening sound, several windows of the Beast Hunters’ wing flew open. It seemed they had attracted more spectators.

“Ah ha ha ha! Magical prostheses are indeed splendid tools!”

The knight, a returned veteran like Bernigi, roared with laughter as he tried to push Randolph’s shield back with his own. But Randolph was also using all his strength to resist, now resulting in a test of strength through their shields.

It had already been impressive enough to see them sparring with their shields, but the metallic chafing sound of their shields and the trenches their feet were gouging in the dirt made it feel even more like a spectacle.

They seemed equally matched at first, but seeing as neither parried nor feinted, they must still have had some strength left in them.

They’re putting on too much of a show for the onlookers.

“I can already hear the shield repairman crying...”

“I’ll ask the captain to hire more personnel. It’s too cruel otherwise.”

Knights were conversing nearby. Bernigi felt he ought to relay the same suggestion to Grato. Shamefully enough, it had taken him until he reached this age and the creation of his magical prosthetic leg to understand how important it was to value artisans and the power of communication.

“Pardon me for interrupting your training,” a voice said.

Bernigi turned toward it and saw Jonas approaching.

He wore a knight’s uniform and a red sword at his hip. The look suited him, but Bernigi had a feeling it would not please the man to hear him say it suited him better than his attendant’s uniform.

“Can we help you, Master Jonas?” Volf asked.

“I have news for you. I have been informed that Marcella and Irma’s twins have just been born in the temple. Two boys, and both mother and children are healthy.”

Bernigi’s face momentarily hardened.

Beside him, Volf’s face broke into a smile. It was a secret that Marcella was Bernigi’s own grandson.

“Oh, that’s great!”

Volf looked down as if trying to suppress his smile, but it soon filled his face again.

Jonas continued, a smile on his face as well. “You are invited to celebrate the twins’ birth six days from now.”

“Of course! Thank you so much for coming to tell me, Master Jonas!”

Volf appeared to want to dash off to the temple right now, and Bernigi felt the same way internally. He was happy above all else that mother and twins were healthy.

Another knight approached to ask, “Sir Volf, Marcella is Master Dahlia’s bodyguard, right? I believe I saw him during the armored crab expedition.”

“Yeah, he’s also a knight for our family. His wife just gave birth to their twins.”

“Twins! That can’t have been easy, but that means double the matter for congratulations!”

Marcella was apparently well-known among the rest of the squad as well.

Now that Bernigi thought of it, the armored crab expedition had also been the first time he met him. It had been only a few short months ago, but he had already grown used to his magical prosthetic leg and felt at home here in the squad. That in itself was like a miracle, but now he felt he wanted even more—strength, longevity, reach, all of it. How insatiable was his greed?

Jonas surveyed the grounds and said, with an unexpected hint of jealousy, “I see everyone is training hard.”

“Oh, it’s a swell time! All the senior knights are very skilled. Don’t you think so, senior?” Bernigi asked Volf pointedly.

“Please don’t call me that. It makes me want to flee to the barracks,” Volf replied with a smile that made Bernigi burst into laughter.

The young man was too modest. He was undoubtedly stronger than Bernigi had been at his age. And he still had the potential to get even stronger. There was no knowing the limits of this knight.

“How is your magical prosthetic leg treating you, Lord Bernigi?” Jonas asked.

“Extraordinarily well, Jonas. After the modifications made to it, it no longer slips out of place at all.”

“That is good to hear. If you need the impact absorption material replaced, please reach out at any time.”

After he finished speaking, the dark blood-colored pupil of Jonas’s rust-red eyes fixed intently on Bernigi. Clearly, he still had business with him.

“I hear that you have officially been reinstated into the Order of Beast Hunters. Would you consider sparring with me?”

“Certainly. You want to see for yourself how the prosthesis is functioning, yes? As a fellow Arms Works member, you needn’t hesitate to ask. Though of course we mustn’t spar seriously.”

Jonas was the head of the team developing weapons for the Order of Beast Hunters as well as their advisor. The knights around them, Volf included, were listening in.

“Let’s move over there, where we won’t be in the way of others. It’s best if I show you my full range of movement.”

“Thank you, Lord Bernigi.”

Jonas gave his red sword to Volf and took up a training sword. He and Bernigi walked to the back of the training ground, where there was a wide open space.

Jonas put a hand over his mouth as if to cover a cough, but instead muttered so only Bernigi could hear, “Lord Bernigi, I hope you don’t mind if I send you to the temple.”

In other words, where Marcella, his wife, and the babies were. It was a very tempting offer, but Bernigi couldn’t fully agree with Jonas’s method.

Bernigi pretended to smooth his mustache to cover his lips as he replied, “Due to my magical prosthesis and my extended break, I am not as able as I once was to hold back my strength... What if I send you to the temple and accompany you there?”

This was a good opportunity to test his prosthetic leg. Moreover, this man was a fellow member of the Scalfarotto Arms Works and a bodyguard to Guido. Even if he tested the absolute limits of his strength, each should be able to hold his own against the other.

“Is that an order?”

“No, I am neither your master nor your superior. Just a colleague. I have no qualms with whichever way this bout will end. I only think it would be most uninteresting if either one of us were to hold back.”

“That is a most interesting proposal, but...”

Jonas’s rust-red eyes darkened a shade. He needed just one more push.

Bernigi stroked his mustache again and spoke from beneath his hand.

“Allow me to express my joy over the birth of my great-grandchildren through our bout. Otherwise I might just break into a dance right here on the training grounds.”

Jonas did not respond, but his shoulders shook slightly and his lips turned slightly upward. When Bernigi saw that, he beamed.

“Jonas, as Marquis Guido’s bodyguard, you should stand out more than you are now. That will be safer.”

Bernigi felt a vibration of magic.

Jonas was an advisor to the Order of Beast Hunters, a baron come spring, and most importantly, the bodyguard of the future Marquis Scalfarotto.

Despite his blight and his mother’s low social status, his strength was another story. Now was a suitable time for him to appear on center stage.

Bernigi moved his hand away from his mustache and said more loudly, “Well then, shall we spar, Jonas? No hard feelings. I swear on my knight’s sword there’s no need to hold back.”

“I would be happy to oblige.”

Jonas’s mouth split into a red smile.

Jonas and Bernigi moved to the edge of the training field to distance themselves from the Order of Beast Hunters’ wing.

Even just facing each other with their training swords at the ready made Bernigi’s forehead tingle.

“Perhaps it’s a bit late to ask this, but should you not put on armor?” he asked Jonas.

“I am wearing armor under my uniform. Furthermore, my blight provides me with some degree of robustness, so do not fret.”

“I see. Then, let us start.”

After three rhythmically matched up strikes, things turned into an all-out skirmish. Jonas’s sword came at him from all directions. His power, speed, and feinting were flawless.

But his moves were a little too clean—when Jonas attempted to wrap his sword around Bernigi’s arm, Bernigi returned the motion and pushed his sword away. Once Jonas’s sword was down, Bernigi swept his own in front of his neck. Jonas’s dark red pupils turned into vertical slits.

“Tch.”

Jonas clicked his tongue as he retreated. Then, with a running start, he leaped into the air. He didn’t jump quite as high as Volf could, but it seemed Jonas, too, had wings.

During Bernigi’s previous active service in the Order, they had called the shadows the wyverns cast on the ground as the flew “shadows of death.” When wyverns fought, they used their wings and could be quite crafty. In order to defeat them, someone would inevitably die. That was what the name implied.

When Bernigi saw Jonas’s shadow darken the sun, he felt this was also a shadow of death. But for a knight of the Order of Beast Hunters such as himself, it was something neither distant nor unfamiliar to him.

Instead of moving out of the way, he extended his sword arm. Jonas was leaping toward him with great force, but in order to not get skewered, his only choice was to strike Bernigi’s sword. There were no footholds in midair for him to use.

As soon as he landed, Jonas struck at him repeatedly with heavy hits, which Bernigi parried with fluid movements. Just when he thought he’d pushed him back, Jonas came at him with an upward slash that he just managed to stop by putting all his power into the two hands he held his sword with.

As he slowly lost the fight and the sword moved gradually toward him, Bernigi smirked.

“Don’t mistake being able to fly with being strong, young man.”

“Thank you for the lesson, veteran.”

At this age, bluffing was a powerful weapon. Jonas’s rust-colored eyes narrowed with uncertainty, then he pulled his sword away. After he slid backward to put some distance between them, magic began to spill out around him.

A pleasing chill ran down Bernigi’s spine, and even the hairs on his head stood on end. He felt he was facing a powerful monster for the first time in forever—a titan of a monster that he had never thought he would be able to contend with again.

It was a good thing they had moved to the edge of the training grounds. Otherwise someone might have been hit by this magic. Bernigi glanced around at the other knights and saw that most everyone had stopped what they were doing and was looking their way. A majority of the windows of the Order’s building were also open. Tsk, so many folks neglecting their duties.

Most of the knights looked at them in surprise, some with fire in their eyes, and a few looked to be near drooling with envy.

“You’re looking away? How unkind,” Jonas said.

“Apologies. But it is your fault for attracting all this attention.”

Keh keh! A noise that sounded inhuman came from Jonas’s throat. A long red tongue peeked from his mouth in what appeared to be a smile, then slithered back in.

They resumed their bout.

They raised their swords higher and charged toward each other, alternatingly gaining ground on each other over and over again. Jonas had more strength, speed, and stamina, but Bernigi had more experience and cunning.

He managed to fend off Jonas’s powerful strikes but struck back with irregular timing. Although Jonas had him beat in strength, Bernigi could tell that the younger man was losing his rhythm and beginning to struggle.

If Jonas continued to put so much power into his attacks, his training sword would eventually break. But even as Bernigi knew that, he exceeded the limits of his own strength to put power into his swing. At the sudden pain in his elbow that told him that he couldn’t fight much longer, he strengthened his grip on his sword under the pretense that it had slipped.

After a particularly loud clashing of their swords, Jonas swung his sword back high and to the left. He swung it down so fast that the tip of the sword became a blur. Bernigi did not attempt to dodge it. Instead, he boldly stepped forward with his prosthetic leg and shoved his left shoulder against the base of the blade.

“Ah?!” Jonas cried out in shock. That one second of distraction was more than enough.

Bernigi bent his arms and swung his sword diagonally upward to the left. It connected with Jonas’s abdomen. He struck against it with a thud, and his hands tingled as if he had hit a large tree. After a delay, he felt a deep pain spread through his left shoulder.

The two wordlessly stepped away from each other. Jonas was the first to relax his guard.

“I lose.”

Jonas bowed calmly in place. He pressed a hand against his side, but he did not fall to his knees. However, this was Bernigi’s first time seeing the man with sweat on his face—evidently even one blighted by a fire dragon could sweat.

As for Bernigi himself, although he kept it from showing on his face, he suspected his left shoulder was fractured. He would also need healing magic used on his knees and elbow.

“Lord Bernigi, I would be honored if I could receive your instruction once again.”

“Certainly.”

Bernigi feigned a confident smile, but he had a feeling Jonas would best him next time. Not that he minded either way.

As the pair headed back in the direction of the Order of Beast Hunters’ wing together, they heard a smattering of applause. The sound rippled and expanded and was soon joined by shouting.

“That was amazing! Both of you!”

“Lord Bernigi, are you hurt?!”

Volf came running over, as did Bernigi’s personal bodyguard, with several other knights trailing behind.

“That was extraordinary, Lord Bernigi!”

“Master Jonas, you’re so strong! Spar with me next time, please!”

“You two are badass!”

“Could I spar with one of you? Either one of you.”

“Lord Bernigi, Master Jonas, you should give the whole squad a lesson!”

There was so much hubbub, Bernigi didn’t know who was saying what. Amid the clamor, a healing mage approached them.

“Lord Bernigi, Master Jonas, do you require healing magic?”

“Yes, that we do. My shoulder pains me a bit. However, I’m not sure if the pain is a result of our match or aging pains, so perhaps I should have it looked at at the temple. I wouldn’t want to have to leave the squad after I’ve only just joined.”

“Please do so, then. I worry.”

The uneasy look in Volf’s golden eyes made Bernigi feel just a little guilty. However, his shoulder did hurt badly enough that he wanted to get it treated right away. Cold sweat was already pouring from his forehead.

“Are you all right, Master Jonas?”

“Yes, I am absolutely fine.”

Jonas’s calm voice irked Bernigi. It meant that he hadn’t done more than make the man sweat—but no, Jonas had said he’d lost, which meant the victory had undoubtedly been his. He decided to think that way.

“If only Father Aroldo were here, he could treat you now.”

“He’s a silver stole. He’s busy.”

Aroldo’s stole was the mark of a higher-ranked priest. A deacon couldn’t spend all his time with the Beast Hunters. Since the fall, it was said that he joined in on the squad’s expeditions after developing a liking for their food and alcohol, but when it came to medical knowledge and healing magic skill, he was the best.

“Well then, I shall make my way to the temple now. Keep up the good work, everyone. Jonas, will you be returning to your master’s side?”

“Yes, I will. I hope that you feel better soon, Lord Bernigi.”

“Says the man responsible,” Bernigi said with a laugh.

Jonas’s mouth quirked up in a small smile.

As his laughter infected the other knights, Bernigi deliberately walked away slowly. He felt impatient, but he was perfectly content with not getting to see the twins. He didn’t want to make Marcella’s wife, a new mother, feel uncomfortable.

All he wanted to do was be in the same temple as them and thank the gods for their well-being, then secretly give Marcella his hand for the twins. That would be enough.

As Bernigi walked, he spoke to the bodyguard at his side.

“This is nothing serious, but if you could—”

“Yes, I have already sent a messenger asking your wife to join you at the temple.”

His long-serving bodyguard had already read his intentions and was smiling widely at him. Relieved, Bernigi headed for the carriage.

As soon as he boarded his personal carriage, he collapsed, and his panicked bodyguard poured two bottles of potions over his head—but that would remain a secret between master and servant.

Jonas returned to the gray-bricked building that was the wing of the Mages’ Corps just as a swarm of mages were descending the staircase. He suspected they were on their way to train outdoors.

He silently moved to the side of the staircase and kept his eyes pointed downward. He and the mages passed each other by without a single word of greeting.

The royal mages were a group that was highly respected even by the royal knights, and most came from high-ranking families. Even though Jonas was an advisor to the Order of Beast Hunters and wore a knights’ uniform, among the Mages’ Corps, he was nothing but Guido’s attendant. Even his family was just a viscountcy, and Jonas himself had no social standing, so this treatment was to be expected.

Jonas slowly made his way up the stairs, then walked down the hallway to Guido’s company commander office. Before entering, he took a moment to steady his breathing.

“I have returned. I told Lord Volfred the news, and he expressed his congratulations for our knight.”

“I see. Good work, Jonas. Now, regarding the matter of the castle’s magic crystals—”

Guido froze as his gaze moved from his paperwork to Jonas. As his blue eyes slowly narrowed at him, Jonas looked away. There wasn’t a speck of dirt on his uniform, and he had already fixed his disheveled hair, but Guido still suspected something.

“Everyone, let’s take our break early. Bring some coffee when you return later.”

“Understood. We shall take our leave.”

At Guido’s words, the mage and clerk who had been assisting Guido with his paperwork left the room.

“Jonas, do you require a high potion?”

“Just a potion will be enough. I sparred with Lord Bernigi. He asked me how I felt about him sending me to the temple and accompanying me there.”

“It sounds like if you had let him beat you, you wouldn’t be here right now. So what happened?”

Guido’s eyes narrowed even more, so Jonas hurriedly explained the situation to him.

“He said he did not mind whatever the outcome of the fight might be, only that he wanted to be able to express his joy over the birth of his great-grandchildren. Otherwise, he might very well have broken into a dance on the training grounds. So, we both put a bit of force into our bout.”

“A bit, you say. Well, how is Lord Bernigi?”

“His shoulder pains him, so he has gone to the temple to see if it is an injury or just age-related pain. Our bout resulted in my loss,” Jonas said, deciding to inform him of the outcome of their fight before being asked.

He had no intention of tiptoeing around the fact that he had gone all out. If they had been sparring with regular swords, he would have cut Bernigi’s arm off at the shoulder just as the old man’s blade would have gone through his ribs and pierced his heart.

As resilient as Jonas was to pain, his side currently hurt so much that he honestly wanted to curl up on the floor. He would have to remove the armor under his clothes if he wanted to check for any fractured or broken bones, so he planned to do so after he withdrew from the room.

“This one is getting old, so get rid of it for me.”

Guido placed a blue glass bottle ornamented with silverwork on top of his desk. It was a high potion produced by the castle’s own alchemists.

Jonas remembered Guido was supplied with it not too long ago. It should have been good for another week, but he decided not to point that out right now.

“Thank you.”

His current condition would impede his ability to do his duty as a bodyguard. Resigned, he held his breath and downed the potion in one go.

High potions tasted grassier and more bitter than regular potions. It tasted even more disgusting to one who disliked vegetables as much as Jonas.

It’s effective, but can’t those castle alchemists make it taste better? Jonas thought as he fell into a coughing fit. Guido poured him a glass of water from a pitcher and placed it on the table. Jonas downed that as well.

But despite his repulsion to the taste, the castle-made high potions were supremely effective. His pain faded away like mist until it was completely gone.

“What kind of match leaves you in a cold sweat, Jonas?”

“It’s only regular sweat. He constantly parried my strikes, and at the end, he stopped my sword with his shoulder and delivered a solid blow to my flank.”

“Impressive. Lord Bernigi must have kept up his training even after leaving the Beast Hunters. He seems younger each time I see him these days. I wonder, do the D’Orazis know the secret to restoring youth?”

“I would not be surprised if they do. He appeared unruffled even after our match, and his face told me he could have kept going longer.”

As he spoke, Jonas recalled that pang of hunger he’d felt earlier. Bernigi was an excellent swordsman, but his old age made Jonas begin the fight thinking that he had to hold back on him. And yet the older man had deftly parried his sword and stopped Jonas’s midair attack with one arm.

“Don’t mistake being able to fly with being strong, young man.”

Bernigi had told him that with a fearless smile on his face, and then he’d felt confident enough to take a look around at the people watching them even as Jonas unleashed his magic. He felt he was experiencing the capabilities of a true seasoned Beast Hunter.

Delighted by the prospect of not needing to hold back, Jonas had nearly lost all restraint and half seriously gone after Bernigi as if he were hunting prey.

As if reading his intentions, Bernigi had leaped forward to stop the base of his sword to obtain the excuse of an injury. Even when Jonas had felt his sword make impact with the man’s shoulder, he hadn’t been able to throw him off his footing.

It had been abundantly clear Jonas was going to lose the fight. He’d been reminded that even though he was blighted, he still had a long way to go. Perhaps it was an odd thing to say for him, as someone who was so often called a monster behind his back, but he felt Bernigi was even more of a monster than he was.

“Well, it was at Lord Bernigi’s suggestion, but I may have fought with a bit of unbridled enthusiasm.”

As reluctant as he was to do so, Jonas made sure to report to Guido the extent to which he had let loose during the fight.

That “unbridled enthusiasm” had gone far enough to result in a moment of real danger. It had been wrong of him to lose himself in battle frenzy within the castle grounds, and away from Guido’s side, no less. He could have gone from being an advisor to the Beast Hunters to being their target to be slain.

“Now that doesn’t happen very often. I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. However, if I had known that was happening, I would have liked to have come as well...”

As envious as he sounded, Guido had duties to fulfill as company commander in the Mages’ Corps. Moreover, Jonas’s excuse for going there had been to tell Volf that the children of one of the knights of their family had been born. If Guido had come with him, that might have invited some needless inquiries.

His master let out a sigh, showing he understood that. Then, for some reason, his mouth turned up in a smile.

“What do you think about inviting Lord Bernigi to the villa so we can see how his magical prosthesis is functioning? I would be happy to lend my help on behalf of the Scalfarottos.”

Jonas knew better than to trust that sly grin on Guido’s face. He spoke bluntly in reply.

“Absolutely not, Guido. What if you fought Lord Bernigi and something happened to you?”

“Something happen—to me? Oh, everyone coddles me too much. No wonder I keep having to add more notches to my belt. I’ve been participating in training less and less ever since becoming a company commander, and it’s only gotten worse since my promotion was announced. These days, my magic use is limited to making ice for the castle’s food and medicine storage facilities, and the cooling ice wall for summer. And because of that, people have started calling me Commander Ice Maker behind my back...”

“Well...you are making great contributions to the castle, so...”

Jonas tried to make his sulky friend feel better, but he couldn’t think of how to finish his sentence. Someone had apparently told Guido what he had been trying to keep from him. Truthfully, Guido had other nicknames that Jonas decided not to share, such as the Marquis of Cold Storage, Guardian of the Castle’s Food, and God of Cooling.

“Help me with this paperwork, Jonas. I want to go home early today. I am concerned about my belt size, you know, so I would like to stop by the villa on my way home to do some exercise. And...”

“I will accompany you. Without the Ice Spider and Night Piercer, of course.”

He thought of Bernigi’s swordsmanship and accepted the fact that he could learn much from training with an advanced mage.

Guido’s wife had forbidden them to train using the Ice Spider Wand and the Night Piercer.

But there should be no issue with them sparring with a regular wand and training sword. Jonas was also drawn to the idea of breaking down his bout with Bernigi to Guido and coming up with possible strategies against him together. As he felt his lips twitch upward, he stiffened his expression and turned to tackle the mountain of paperwork.

Later, the two of them headed to the Scalfarotto villa to train. As they fought, wand versus training sword, their bout became as heated as Jonas’s against Bernigi, and they lost track of time.

When they returned to the main residence, they had to endure a long night being lectured with a smile by the lady of the house.

“Irma, you did amazing. I really don’t know what to say except... Thank you so much.”

Marcella spoke quietly to Irma as she lay in bed in one of the temple rooms.

His wife’s cinnamon-colored eyes half closed as she smiled gently at him. “Thank you for everything you’ve done, Marcella. I’m sure you’re tired from staying next to me this whole time. Today you should go home and rest.”

“No, I’m staying here. I’m still worried about you, and this will be our first night together as the four of us.”

The temple could take care of attending on Irma, and both their families were taking turns coming to visit early tomorrow. Still, Marcella had no intention of returning home today. Irma had seemed to have been really suffering from her first labor pains to the moment the twins were born, so he worried about how taxing the birth had been on her body.

“You’re right, there are four of us now...”

His wife looked to the cribs where the twins, born early this morning, were sound asleep. They had named the two boys Bernolto and Dino.

The moment they were born, they had let out wails so loud Marcella had jumped in shock.

When he’d first seen his sons, they had looked so small, but so, so precious.

The priest had told them that the labor might take a long time due to this being Irma’s first childbirth, and also since they were twins, but thankfully, it had been an easy delivery. Nevertheless, as he watched Irma suffering through the contractions, he had wondered how that could be considered easy.

The temple in winter was a little cold. A jacket or blanket made it more tolerable, but it might be too cold for babies and sick people.

However, that had been solved before it became a problem. The cribs were lined with body heat conservation material. It was made with red slime, and with its faint warmth, there was no concern of getting burned.

The combined efforts of the Scalfarotto Arms Works, including the unbelievable team of Dahlia, Lucia, Bernigi, Guido, and several guild higher-ups, had produced this great material. He felt awed and incredibly moved by it.

A priest in a white robe and a silver stole knocked and entered the room.

“Pardon me. How are you doing?”

During the birth, the priest had been accompanied by a doctor and a female priest, but Irma’s follow-up care was mainly being handled by the deacon Aroldo.

“Thank you for asking, Father Aroldo. I’m all right.”

“There will be priests taking shifts overnight as well, so please tell the reception desk at once if you feel unwell. That goes for if you need help with anything at all. Also, normally you would stay here for five days after giving birth, but considering you had twins and also the matter of their magic, I would like to continue to monitor you. Please remain in the temple for a bit longer. It is very important that the mother care for her own health after delivery, so I implore you to get as much rest as you can.”

Aroldo was going above and beyond to care for Irma in consideration for the difference between her magic and the twins, so much so that Marcella felt guilty.

Aroldo was the priest who had completely healed Irma when her fingers had become petrified from the earth magic. He had also taught Irma what to be cautious of while pregnant with twins with different magic, preparations for before and after birth, and how she could use earth magic while pregnant.

Of course, it was probably Guido who had asked him to do so, but nevertheless, Father Aroldo was someone whom it was difficult for a commoner like Marcella to talk to, and he was nothing but thankful.

“Father Aroldo, thank you so much. For today, and for healing Irma’s—”

“I am happy to be of service. The Kingdom of Ordine has gained two citizens. It is a very joyous thing,” Aroldo said, smiling as he stopped Marcella from launching into a lengthy thank-you. Then, the priest glanced at the room next to theirs.

“Excuse me, but I must visit the next room. Actually, a wounded royal knight has just arrived. He is being stubborn about letting other people know he has been injured, so would you mind if I used the inner door to enter his room?”

“Of course.”

This room was connected to a smaller one that had a couch large enough for Marcella to sleep on and a simple washbasin. It was used by family members staying with those admitted to the temple. That room had a small door that led to yet another room with a door that could be locked from either side.

It had been explained to them that their room was used for those who needed assistance when birthing twins or triplets, or when multiple injured or sick people came in, such as ones from the same family or part of the knights’ division.

Aroldo cut across the small room and unlocked the door. Then, with the door still open, he began speaking in the other room.

“Lord Bernigi, I am told you hurt your shoulder during training?” the priest asked.

“Oh, Father Aroldo,” answered a voice. “It’s not too serious, but I wanted to have it looked at just in case.”

“You need to be careful at your age.”

“Don’t bring my age into this, please. I’m a new recruit, you hear?”

“Please scold him as harshly as you wish, Father Aroldo,” another voice chimed in.

So it was Bernigi in the next room. Marcella had heard his name and bright voice. Was this a coincidence or also the work of Guido and Jonas? Marcella pondered.

Then, the door closed.

“Marcella, did he say Lord Bernigi?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Irma had also overheard. She sat up in bed, ignoring Marcella’s attempts to stop her.

“Marcella, we need to say hello.”

“Oh, I dunno...”

Marcella had been thinking vaguely about whether they would meet at the Scalfarotto Arms Works for Bernigi to give him the papers with his sons’ names written on them. He never would have imagined that the man would be in the room next to theirs the very night of his twins’ birth.

Marcella wanted Bernigi to meet his great-grandchildren, but he was from a marquisate, while Marcella was a commoner. He was also worried this would put undue burden on Irma right after she had just given birth.

“I’d like us to carry the babies over and say hello, but it’s still hard for me to walk straight. Do you think it would be a bad idea to ask him to come here? You want him to meet them too, don’t you?”

“But, Irma, I mean... Isn’t that a lot for you?”

“I’ll be fine. I might make a bad impression since I don’t know noble etiquette, but as long as he’s right next door to us, I want to say hello. Also, my great-grandmother used to tell me that great-grandchildren are even cuter than grandchildren.”

It seemed Marcella’s wife had more nerves of steel than he did. Marcella scratched his head, then nodded.

At that moment, Aroldo returned from the other room.

“Thank you for allowing me to cross through your room. The man in the other room has only a minor injury, but since he is a bit elderly, I’ve decided to have him stay the night here.”

“Is that right?”

“At his age, he should be spending his time babysitting his grandchildren or great-grandchildren. But he would rebuke me if I told him that— Ah, please keep that between us.”

Aroldo squinted his green amber eyes as he put his index finger over his lips. The gesture confirmed for Marcella that he knew of his relation to Bernigi.

“Should you need anything, do not hesitate to ask. Feel free to ask for me directly.”

“Thank you very much, Father Aroldo.”

Marcella and Irma watched as the silver-stoled priest left the room.

The couple listened to the sound of their babies’ quiet breathing as they slept in their cribs.

“He said they’re healthy, but I don’t hear them crying...”

“That’s because they’re asleep, dear.”

In one of the temple rooms, Bernigi, who had changed from his knight’s uniform to a suit, was straining his ears trying to listen in on the room next door.

Thanks to Aroldo’s healing, the pain in his left shoulder that had still remained even after he had drunk a potion was completely gone. And now that he was healed, he turned his attention to Marcella and his family in the other room.

He wasn’t planning on going in to see them, though. He was just going to say a prayer of thanks to the gods, write the twins’ hands, and send a congratulatory gift tomorrow. That was why he and his wife were in this room alone.

A hand—when children were born to nobles, an older member of the family wrote their names on a blank sheet of paper and brushed it against the baby’s hand. It was a prayer of longevity and health given by the one who wrote it.

It was just the job for him and his wife, gray-haired as they were. However, Bernigi knew better than anyone that a hand was not always completely effective.

As he brooded, he suddenly heard a knock. It came not from the door connected to the hallway but from the adjoining room.

“Excuse me. It’s Marcella. Are you available at the moment?”

“Ah, yes, I am.”

As he gave his response, Bernigi and his wife rose from their chairs.

Marcella took one step into the room, then lowered himself stiffly in a knight’s bow.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, ma’am. I am Marcella Nuvolari. I owe a great deal to Lord Bernigi.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you too. I am Mersela, Bernigi’s wife.”

Bernigi watched in silence as the two spoke to each other nervously.

“Um, if it would not inconvenience you two, my wife would also like to say hello.”

Bernigi understood that Marcella wanted to introduce them to his wife and children, but it wasn’t something he could agree to right away.

“Marcella, your wife, does she—is she aware of the situation?” Bernigi asked.

“Has she expressed that she is all right with us meeting the babies? It wouldn’t be too much trouble for her?” Mersela asked.

“Irma—I mean, my wife is aware of everything. She would prefer for us to bring the babies here, but she is still unsteady on her feet.”

“A woman who has just given birth mustn’t walk about! Rest is the most important thing for her.”

Mersela spoke with a strict tone, but Bernigi agreed with what she said.

“Yes,” Marcella agreed. “That is why, as discourteous a request as it might be, I wanted to ask if you could come next door.”

“Of course, it would be our pleasure,” Bernigi said. He stepped forward with his prosthetic leg, then stopped. “Marcella, I’ve just had my shoulder treated. My apologies, but could I ask you to escort my wife?”

“Certainly. Lady Mersela, I’m not used to escorting, so I apologize if I make it difficult to walk.”

“Not at all, thank you... I appreciate it.”

Marcella extended his large hand to her, and she placed her trembling hand in his.

Bernigi felt that his wife’s back looked smaller than it had in her youth. Or perhaps it only seemed that way because she was standing next to Marcella’s broad back. He hoped that was it.

They passed through the smaller room into the other room, where there was a woman with tea-colored hair sitting up in bed. When they met eyes, she stood up and bowed.

“It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Irma, Marcella Nuvolari’s wife.”

“There’s no need to stand. We wouldn’t want you to hinder your recovery,” Bernigi said.

“Yes, you must take care of yourself...” Mersela followed up.

Irma smiled. “Thank you for your concern, but I really am all right.”

After Bernigi and his wife introduced themselves, Marcella stood at the head of the cribs.

“This one is named Bernolto, and this one is Dino,” he explained.

The babies must have recognized their father’s voice. Bernolto opened his eyes slightly and Dino reached out a hand as if to grab something. Their preciousness put Bernigi at a loss for words. Both he and his wife simply stared at the twins without speaking.

“Please excuse my rudeness. If you would like to, please hold them.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Irma. But I don’t feel I have the right to hold these babes in my arms...”

“Me neither...”

Instead of reaching out their hands, Bernigi and Mersela clenched them into fists. Bernigi’s fingernails cut into his palm as he fought to control his voice.

“Please accept my apology, Marcella. If only I had given them my blessing...”

“It is not for me to accept that apology. But I will say, I am happy to be here with the life I have.”

Marcella neither blamed nor forgave him. His intensely bright kite-colored eyes strongly resembled those of his son.

“If I may! Um—please do not take this the wrong way, but if Marcella hadn’t lived as a commoner, then we would never have met or gotten married.”

The wife of his grandson turned to look at them, her eyes bright and clear despite the fatigue of birth on her face.

“I am truly thankful for having Marcella in my life. I am so thankful that we can live happily together, and I want to do my best to share that happiness with my children.”

Irma spoke falteringly yet genuinely. Bernigi nodded deeply. Next to him, his wife nodded twice.

“I am happy to hear that. Marcella, you have a wonderful wife...”

“Yes, I have to agree wholeheartedly...”

“It’s the one thing I’m confident about!” his grandson declared without hesitation.

“Marcella! What are you saying?!” Irma protested, red-faced. They really were good together.

“Ha ha ha... What a couple of lovebirds.”

“They really are well matched, aren’t they?”

In response to the four adults’ laughter, the babies began to squirm. Bernigi couldn’t look away from their adorableness.

“Since they’re twins, they’re a little underweight, but they are very healthy,” Marcella explained as he and Irma handed a baby to Bernigi and Mersela to hold.

They were surprisingly warm, and Bernigi found himself rooted in place.

“Bernolto, grow big and strong.”

“Dino, please live a long, healthy life.”

It took everything he had to keep his voice from trembling as he wished for the twins’ health.

Yes, both babies are light, but also, heavy.

Bernigi and Mersela swapped babies, and he burned the image of their sleepy cherubic faces into his memory.

“Thank you, Marcella, Mrs. Irma.”

“Thank you, truly. Please take care of yourselves as well.”

Bernigi wished he could stay here and look at them forever, but Irma needed to rest, and Marcella was likely tired as well.

After they thanked each other, Bernigi and his wife returned to their room.

Still feeling in high spirits, Bernigi said to his wife, “We should send them the goat milk tomorrow.”

“I already made the arrangements before arriving here. It will be delivered tomorrow morning.”

“I see. Then all that’s next is writing their hands and giving them to Marcella as soon as possible.”

“All we need to do is write them and put them in a letter case. I also brought some practice paper and a reference sample.”

His wife’s nickname of All-Prepared was well deserved. He recalled how impressed he was when, the night she had told him about their son Bernardi and grandson Marcella, she had proposed the goat milk delivery and extra donations to the temple right away. Like him, she had retired from her post as wife of a marquis, but she was still the same far-reaching noblewoman she ever was.

“Let us confirm the spelling of the babies’ names before we write, just to be sure.”

“Yes, Marcella wrote them down for me already,” Bernigi said, taking a piece of paper from his breast pocket. “Bernolto and Dino. Both fine names. Their spellings are taken from Bernardi’s—”

In the middle of his explanation, Bernigi’s voice caught in his throat.

He suddenly remembered the heavy feeling of the babies in his arms. It hadn’t been the weight of his grandson Marcella’s twins, but that of his youngest son, whom he had lost—Bernardi D’Orazi.

The one who had written the hand for his baby, born large, had been the oldest member of his family, his great-grandfather’s younger brother. As a father, he had happily accepted and prayed for his son’s longevity.

Bernardi had been blessed with good health, and he grew quickly, soon surpassing Bernigi’s own height. Bernigi had taught him swordsmanship, and he became an even more skilled knight than his parents could have hoped for.

Regular swords had been too light for him, so he’d moved on to greatswords, and then, finding even those too light, he’d switched to using war hammers. That was how strong he was. And yet when he’d had to slay a goblin’s settlement, he’d hidden and cried.

Bernigi’s pride and joy—he had possessed a strong body but a kind heart.

As a baby, Bernardi had been both light and heavy. And in the end, when he’d fought against the hydra, not even a bit of ash was left of him. Bernigi had called his son’s death an honorable one for a knight in the Order of Beast Hunters, and he had never shed a tear in front of anyone.

But certain thoughts plagued him regarding Bernardi’s death.

Hadn’t he died as a knight due to Bernigi himself teaching him swordsmanship as a young child and recommending he use a greatsword?

Hadn’t he died because he had followed his father’s footsteps in becoming a Beast Hunter?

If Bernigi had permitted Bernardi to marry Marcella’s mother, would he still be alive?

Was it not Bernigi himself who had killed his son?

He could ask no one that question, and neither did it have an answer. He carried his mountain of regrets and repented by drinking oceans.

But he was done with that now. He would not be a pathetic elderly man anymore. His son had laid down his life as a knight to fight and protect the future of this kingdom, his child, and his grandchildren.

It was now up to Bernigi, who was still alive, to protect them and Ordine as well. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to face his son in the afterlife as a knight—no, as a father.

“...This is how you spell our great-grandchildren’s names.”

Bernigi relaxed his clenched fist, then unfolded the paper to show his wife its contents.

But try as he might, he couldn’t read the letters.

“Blast these old eyes... I can hardly see, it’s too blurry...”

“Yes, it is... I can’t for the life of me see anything either...”

His wife had the same problem, it seemed. No matter how many times he rubbed at his eyes, his vision remained blurry with tears.

In order to make sure his wife didn’t fall over and that he stood steady on his feet, Bernigi reached his arms out for her.

The elderly couple held each other up and embraced for a long time.

Interlude: The Golden Ring and a Noblewoman’s Recollections

A few days after the twins were born, Mersela went to visit Irma in the temple.

She had announced her visit ahead of time through Marcella, and she had even stayed in the room next to her so she could come in and out unnoticed. It truly was difficult being a noble.

“Ah, stay as you are—you needn’t get out of bed. I wanted to speak to you after you gave birth as a woman who also has children with magic. Is that all right? I won’t take up too much of your time. But due to the nature of what I want to tell you, I was hoping we could speak, just us ladies...”

Irma could tell by how Mersela kept her light green eyes cast down that this was hard for her to talk about.

“Yes, I would be happy to listen to what you have to say. Marcella, go have some tea.”

“Okay. I’ll wait in the hallway after I’m done, so just call for me when you’re finished. Oh, and let me know if the babies start crying. It’ll be hard to talk with them making noise,” Marcella said. He then turned to face Mersela. “I leave my wife in your care, Lady Mersela.”

“I’ll just be borrowing your dear wife for a moment, Marcella.”

After they said their brief goodbyes, Marcella went out into the hallway.

Mersela padded over to Irma, taking care not to make too much noise.

Bernolto and Dino were deeply asleep in the cribs by Irma’s bed. She expected them to take turns crying loudly to express just how full of spirit they were once again tonight.

“Are you in much pain?”

“Thank you for asking, but I’ve been well taken care of by everyone here, so I am all right.”

“Don’t let your automatic response be that you are all right. Even after you are several days postpartum, you absolutely mustn’t push yourself too hard, and you must accept help from others. Moreover, from now on, avoid doing anything dangerous, and should you ever find yourself in trouble or out of your depth, do not hesitate to contact me.”

“Lady Mersela...”

“I have already informed the current head of the Marquis D’Orazi and his wife that even after I and my husband die, any inquiries from the Nuvolaris should go to them. Our family will always be there to support you and Marcella as well as Bernolto and Dino.”

Mersela’s face looked like that of a dependable mother. Irma was grateful even just to hear those words.

“Will you give me your hand?” Mersela asked.

Thinking that she wanted to shake her hand, Irma held her right hand out. Mersela put her hand underneath to hold hers up and then placed a small shiny object in her palm.

“What...?”

“I give one of these to all my sons’ wives and their daughters. It will lessen any pains associated with post-childbirth and nursing. I want you to have it.”

The gold ring was small but had a good amount of weight to it. Irma could see several jewels embedded inside. She suspected it was very expensive.

Marcella had chosen to live as a commoner.

Knowing that as a commoner herself, she couldn’t accept this ring, she opened her mouth and said, “Thank you. I appreciate the thought, but—”

“No, Irma, I won’t allow you to refuse. You are a mother now,” Mersela said. It was the first time she had called her by her name alone. She gently reached a hand out toward her. She wrapped her warm fingers around Irma’s hand and the gold ring. “As long as you possess this ring, you and your family will always be welcome in the D’Orazi home, and you can get into contact with me or the current head of the family.”

“But I’m a commoner. It wouldn’t be right for me to accept—”

“What if you or a member of your family suffered a grave illness or injury and required the healing of a high-ranking priest? What if another noble family wanted to adopt Bernolto or Dino or have them marry into their family? What if you became involved with troublesome people and were in danger?”

“Well...”

If any of that were to happen, Irma would be powerless. As she realized that, she felt a chill go down her spine.

The elderly woman smiled brightly at her. “Now that you are a mother, you must toughen up. For your children, your husband, and your family,” she said in a voice that was both gentle and firm. “My arms are longer than yours. Also, we belong to a different noble faction from the Scalfarotto family. If the Scalfarottos ever have difficulty dealing with something, then our family might be able to offer better help. Remember that.”

“But... I understand why you would offer this to Marcella and the twins, but I— I have no way to repay you for anything.”

“Come now, I don’t need repayment. I do this because I want to.” Mersela laughed mirthfully. “Ah ha ha! My husband has returned to the Order of Beast Hunters, and I am no longer bound to my role as wife of a family head. My children and grandchildren are all independent now. I have nothing more to be concerned with, which is why I have decided to live the rest of my life being as much of a greedy grandmother as I want.”

“A greedy grandmother?” Irma repeated, caught off guard by the remark.

Mersela nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! I want to invite people over for delicious tea and cake so we can chat about all sorts of topics. People trust me with their problems due to my age. I go to operas and banquets and make many new good friends there. I assiduously cheer on the children so I can see their smiles. For as long as I’m alone, I want to be a chatty, helpful, dependable grandmother who never makes children cry.”

Irma wasn’t sure what part of that was greedy. In fact, she thought it all sounded very nice.

“That is why I want you to promise me, Irma. Promise me that if you are ever in trouble, you will not hesitate to come to me—to your grandmother—for help.”

“Thank you, Lady Mersela.”

“Now, now. There’s no need to bow your head. I just want my granddaughter to come to me for advice. But, there is one more thing. I beg that you, Marcella, and your twins live longer than me. Long, healthy lives. That is all I ask of you.”

Marcella’s father was Mersela’s son. Irma couldn’t begin to know the depth of her pain of losing a child.

But now that she was a mother herself, she understood the strong desire to protect her children at all costs.

Irma nodded deeply. “Yes, I understand.”

At her response, Mersela’s eyes softened contentedly. Then, those light green eyes gleamed mischievously.

“One of these days, I would like us to have a nice long chat over tea so I can ask you about something.”

“About what?”

“Your and Marcella’s marriage was not an arranged one, but one of love, yes? I want you to tell me all about how you two met,” Mersela said with a girlish expression.

“...Certainly,” Irma replied with a small smile.

The small gold ring in the palm of her hand felt heavy to the new mother.

A few months ago—mid-October, to be exact—Mersela’s husband Bernigi came to talk to her about something.

“I received an invitation from Grato. I will be going to observe the Order of Beast Hunters on their mission to slay an armored crab tomorrow.”

In the past, her husband had held the position of vice-captain and was completely dedicated to his duties. Even after retiring, he continued to give support to the squad and cared about the knights. However, the strength had left his voice, and he no longer seemed to look forward to seeing his juniors as he had once.

Mersela had noticed for some time that her husband had started putting his affairs in order. He was eating less and losing weight. She felt deeply emotional as she saw him off for the mission, believing this could be his final expedition as Bernigi the knight.

However, when her husband returned, he was in good spirits. He spoke rapidly and with a smile about the captain, about the knights and how they had grown, and about the improvements made to their conditions.

Mersela was glad that the expedition had turned out to be a positive memory for him. Later, she returned to her study, where she had a stack of letters waiting to be written.

But when she picked up her pen, its heavy weight pained her fingers.

Ever since she was a child, Mersela had loved to write.

Praise from her family and home tutors encouraged her to practice even more. Before she knew it, she had progressed so far that others were asking her to write letters on their behalf.

The man her father chose for her to marry, Bernigi, had a peculiar way of writing. His letters to her were short and lacked any sentimentality, but he had never had someone write them on his behalf.

After Mersela married into the D’Orazi family at nineteen years old, she assumed most of the responsibility of writing letters and paperwork.

Bernigi was often away on expeditions for the Order of Beast Hunters, and Mersela worried whether he would come back alive. Rather than worry about her husband, she decided it was more worthwhile to write letters.

Her parents-in-law were delighted by that. Both were good, honest people, but they were also knights. When it came to interacting with other nobles, Mersela was more suited to the task, having been educated on it at home.

Her parents-in-law never said anything against her regarding her correspondence or going out to the opera, to banquets, or with others. Their sole concern was for Mersela’s own health and safety. No matter what anyone else had to say, they had complete trust in their son’s bride—no, in their daughter. That was why Mersela decided to devote her body and soul to the prosperity and social life of the family.

Mersela possessed neither stunning beauty nor abundant wealth. What she did possess was beautiful handwriting right out of a textbook, a talent for languages, and the phrasings of a fine lady, instilled in her by her mother. That was why she picked letter writing as her means of communication.

There were many reasons to write letters, from greetings, courtesy letters, and seasonal tidings. In her letters, she would also casually mention some news that might be useful to the recipient or some piece of information they were looking for. And she would tie that information to a tea party, an opera, or a banquet—and so she built friendships and useful connections.

Letters could cross both time and distance. Mersela was able to forge relationships with those who were older or younger than her, faraway nobles, and nobles of different factions.

She confidently introduced people who would be mutually beneficial to each other, resolved disputes in the shadows, clearly spelled out profits and figures for business relationships, gave gentle pushes for romantic relationships and marriages, and gave advice as she could for any troubles someone might have.

At some point, she realized just how long her arms could reach—that she had a general grasp on any goings-on within a family, their financial situation, and details regarding the head of household, his wife, and their children.

The day she learned her nickname was All-Prepared, she burst out laughing.

Yet one day, the pen that used to feel so comfortable in her hand suddenly became heavy.

The day her husband and youngest son, Bernardi, quarreled over the latter’s marriage, the door to the room they were in had been left slightly ajar. An attendant had purposely opened it to allow Mersela, who was in the hallway, to overhear.

Their shouting grew louder, and in the hallway, Mersela could scarcely breathe as she wondered whether she should stop them or encourage them to have a discussion.

Bernardi was the gentlest and most sincere of his siblings. The fact that he had fallen in love with a woman from the red-light district was undoubtedly a consequence of his naivety. However, like his father, Bernardi had a stubborn side.

There were a few options—pay the woman to step aside or prepare a house for the woman to live in and allow the couple to court each other until the passion died down. Mersela considered each option with the calm and composure of an aristocrat.

When Bernardi emerged from the room into the hallway, his eyes widened in surprise at seeing her there. Then, he quickly bowed.

“Mother, training starts at dawn tomorrow, so I will be returning to the barracks now.”

“Very well. Be careful.”

Mersela swallowed the words she wanted to say: “Calm down. I will organize an opportunity for a discussion. Next time, come to me first with all the details.”

Her son was a grown adult now and a member of a marquisate. She wanted him to realize his own mistakes. But before she knew it, she was speaking to him in a scolding tone.

“Bernardi, please reconsider this carefully.”

“...I will,” her son responded. He looked slightly forlorn as he nodded.

That was the last expression Mersela ever saw on her son’s face.

The next day, Bernardi left on the mission to slay the hydra. After cutting off one of its heads, he met his end.

But while the kingdom was in turmoil, the marchioness hadn’t the time to be miserable.

From morning till night, Mersela wrote letters. Letters strengthening ties with other families, letters asking for help for her husband, letters bearing news of her son’s death, letters thanking those who had come to his funeral, and letters replying to messages of condolence.

At some point during that process, her pen became much heavier.

It was only years later that she was finally able to grieve over Bernardi’s death in peace.

She had been such a coldhearted mother. She felt she had failed her son.

The following year, she began sending letters less frequently, using the excuse that her finger joints hurt due to old age. The one who took her place was her eldest son’s wife. She was more capable than Mersela herself, and the quality of her education made Mersela feel certain that she could leave things in her hands whenever the time came.

Thus, Mersela gradually receded from the center stage.

Despite her nickname of All-Prepared, in the end, she was just a fool who didn’t even understand her own child’s heart.

“How stupid. I can’t even think of how to start...”

Mersela came back to herself, staring at the blank stationery. Her heart was so filled with regrets that she couldn’t think of what to write.

Just as she was wondering whether she, like her husband, should perhaps begin putting her affairs in order, there was a knock at the door and Bernigi flew inside.

“Mersela!”

The desperation in his voice told her he had something urgent to tell her. She had heard that an attendant of the Scalfarotto family had come just a short moment ago. She knew it was highly unlikely that they had crossed swords, but it was clear something had happened.

“What’s the matter?!”

“I saw our grandson—I saw Marcella!” he said as soon as the door closed behind him.

For a moment, Mersela thought she understood. Marcella, the woman whom Bernardi had loved, lived and had a grandchild.

But she was wrong. That Marcella had already passed away, and now their grandchild bore the name. He had the protection of the Scalfarotto family and served their household as a knight despite being a commoner. Furthermore, his wife was pregnant.

And above all, their grandson, Marcella, had just been in the stables of their home—

“What is he like?!”

“Just like Bernardi—a fine man!”

Mersela unintentionally grasped her husband’s arm tightly, wishing he could give her a clearer and more detailed explanation.

“A-Apologies. Could you stop using strengthening magic? I fear you’ll break my arm.”

She had put more strength into her grasp than she had meant to. Although, she and her husband had the same grade of magic, so she doubted she would break his arm.

From there, husband and wife spoke until daybreak about Marcella, the current situation, the future Marquis Guido Scalfarotto and his attendant Jonas Goodwin, the Order of Beast Hunter’s magical toolmaker, Dahlia Rossetti, and what they would do in the future.

Mersela decided to overlook the fact that her husband had told Marcella that she was a year older than she was for the sake of writing the twins’ hands. She did, however, hope she had the opportunity to correct her grandson later.

Their discussion soon turned into one between a noble married couple, like the ones they used to have.

Early the next morning, Mersela sat at her desk and smiled. I’ll have a new pen made. And I will order plenty of writing paper and envelopes.

There were medicines and potions that could heal painful fingers. She would write hundreds and thousands of letters to various recipients. Already she could think of so many letters she needed to write and to whom. And the hand for my adorable great-grandchildren.

After such a long break, her once elegant handwriting had gone into decline.

A hand was a long-lasting thing. The names should fit neatly on the papers. She and her husband had the same task before them.

Mersela muttered quietly to herself so that her husband couldn’t hear, “I’ll have to start practicing tomorrow...”

Several months had passed since then. The writing exercises she and her husband had done had been worth it. Slips of paper bearing the twins’ names, Bernolto and Dino, graced their pillows. Bernigi’s handwriting still wasn’t perfect, but Mersela was impressed by how much it had improved.

After she gave Irma the ring, she searched for Bernigi to tell him she had returned home. Her husband was in his room polishing his light-blue prosthetic leg. His expression was identical to how it was when he brushed his favorite horse.

“Dear, I have returned. Ah, you are polishing that quite thoroughly, I see.”

“Yes, I’ve taken a liking to it.”

“I can imagine you dancing very well with that.”

Her husband grinned at her like an opera villain.

After having his broken prosthetic leg replaced with one made with green horse bone, he no longer even needed to use a cane.

The magical prosthetic leg, made by the magical toolmaker Dahlia Rossetti, had easily restored Mersela’s husband in a way she had never been able to do.

Along with her gratitude, Mersela selfishly felt a mixture of regret, wishing she could have helped him return to being a knight sooner.

Mersela was grateful from the bottom of her heart that the young magical toolmaker had returned the smile of a knight to Bernigi’s face. Although the magical prosthesis had been properly paid for, they still owed a debt to Dahlia Rossetti. She was also the friend of Marcella and Irma and had helped the couple in many ways.

Among nobles, there were no free favors. Debts were always paid back in one way or another.

“By the way, I received a letter from my precious mentee.”

“Oho, would that be the lady with green eyes?”

Mersela held up the envelope that showed the sender’s name written in green-tinged black ink. The corners of Bernigi’s mouth lifted.

“I shall be attending a tea party. And, if I receive an invite, a banquet as well. I want to hear all the latest news of her faction.”

“In that case, we must have the Magical Garment Factory make you a new wardrobe. A set of gorgeous dresses that complement you as you are now.”

“That would be wonderful.”

It sounded like her husband wasn’t just telling her to get dressed up but to don a new battledress. Her heart raced at the thought. It would be some time yet before she retired from nobility.

There was also one more thing she wanted to get her husband’s approval on.

“Dear, I have been thinking that our family should start providing support for those in need in the red-light district. I have heard there are women there who have lost contact with partners who made promises to them, and others who are unable to bear children due to a difference in their magic. There are even those who are putting up with physical ailments. I want to help those types of women.”

Her husband was quick to agree. “Yes, that is a splendid idea.”

However, he urged her to continue with his reddish-brown eyes, knowing she was not yet done.

“I propose we aid in the raising and education of children born to women in the red-light district, regardless of their magic. We can give those who show promise or interest in a certain profession or who want to attend college financial assistance or interest-free loans. We can lend them a kind ear and become a reliable source of advice to those pursuing their dreams. And once those children grow up to become capable adults, we can bring them into the D’Orazi family.”

Her husband froze, wide-eyed, then broke into a broad smile. “Well, wouldn’t you know! My wife is a truly kind soul!”

It was not kindness that drove this decision. Her husband knew that too.

This was revenge.

Mersela, who took pride in herself as a noble, had gone astray as a human. She had convinced herself that her son would realize that one’s inherited noble blood was what was important, and as a result, she had not offered him her hand when he needed it. He had passed on before they could come to understand each other.

Mersela would never forgive herself for that.

She could no longer reach her son, but what she could do was extend a hand to those who had gone through the same thing he had. She would protect, dote on, nurture, and raise those children. And if they so wished, her family would take them in, regardless of their ancestry or social status.

The D’Orazis would reach their arms across social barriers and lend their hands to promising individuals. Surely that narrative and achievement would prove beneficial to the family.

And then, it would not seem at all strange that the former marquis Bernigi, who was propelling the family toward that goal, would take on a commoner named Marcella as his apprentice. It would also be natural for Mersela to look after his wife and children.

She wouldn’t let anyone say a word about it. And if they did, they would be deemed enemies of the House of D’Orazi.

Her grandson had had an honest upbringing. He had a wife who suited him and such adorable children. Even nobles who had so many wrongdoings under their belts had nothing to regret if they could protect that family. Mersela and her husband had little time left, which meant they had little to fear.

Now then, what should my next move be?

“We shall have to pay Lord Guido Scalfarotto and Mr. Jonas Goodwin back with interest.”

A very aristocratic smile formed on the face of the noblewoman nicknamed All-Prepared.

The Magical Toolmaker and the Beast Hunter

It was lightly drizzling as Dahlia and Volf arrived at the temple.

They alighted from the carriage, and Volf effortlessly picked up two large wooden boxes. One was filled with the vegetable soup and liver and cheese paté that Dahlia had brought, and the other contained freshly baked bread Volf had brought from home.

Dahlia had placed the pot that held the vegetable soup in a large wooden box along with magic ice crystals. The plan was for them to spoon out the amount they wanted to eat into a saucepan to be heated on a compact magical stove.

The temple supposedly had a small kitchen with a magical compact stove to make food for the patients and their attendants. Dahlia had a feeling they had brought too much food, but the ice crystals should keep everything well-preserved.

Dahlia herself was carrying only her shoulder bag and a covered basket of milk pudding.

“Dahlia, sorry, give me a sec. Rain got on my glasses...”

Volf held the boxes in one hand and removed his fairy glasses with the other. Several large droplets of rain clung to the right lens, which would certainly obstruct Volf’s vision. Either the rain that had accumulated on the roof of the carriage had dripped onto the lens or the wind had splattered it.

“My hands are free. Would you like me to wipe it off for you?” Dahlia offered.

“Sorry, thanks.”

Dahlia hung the basket in the crook of her arm and wiped Volf’s glasses with a handkerchief.

When she handed them back to him, she heard a voice call out to them.

“Sir Knight! Thank you for the other day!”

A young brunette man came running over to them from the other side of the carriage stop. Dahlia had never seen him before.

“Uhh...”

Volf turned to look at the young man, his glasses still off.

“I apologize for startling you! I am from the village that was attacked by two red bears at the end of the year. I have been wanting to express my thanks.”

“I appreciate your words, but I was only doing my duty.”

At the end of last year, when Gildo was hosting Dahlia’s debut, Volf and the rest of the Beast Hunters had gone on a mission to slay a wyvern, followed by two red bears that appeared in a village. This man was from that village.

“Pardon, but has something happened to the village? Has it been attacked by another monster or beast?”

“No! All is well with our village. I came to the temple today to buy a barrier stone for emergency use. We replaced the doors of our evacuation shelter with new ones made of iron, and we plan to place a barrier stone on them.”

“I see. That way, red bears won’t be able to open them easily.”

“Yes, exactly. No other monsters or animals have shown up since the red bears, but we decided we wanted to be prepared just in case.”

Dahlia was reminded again of the routine threat monsters posed outside the capital. The capital was enclosed in high walls that kept the city safe from monsters. And she suspected the castle wyverns were the reason no monsters flew in the skies above the city either. Occasionally, they saw sea monsters near the port or small flying monsters, like bat- and bird-type monsters.

However, it was said that in the capital, humans were more feared than monsters, due to the fact that humans used offensive and strengthening magic, which led to people getting injured in accidents or brawls.

“Thank you, truly. If you hadn’t defeated those two enormous red bears... If the Order of Beast Hunters hadn’t shown up, our village would be gone. Everyone survived, and the injured were healed quickly. Even my grandfather had his strained back healed. I am forever grateful.”

“I’m glad everyone was all right.”

“Is your knee better now, sir?”

“Yes, it was healed right away.”

It sounded like Volf had injured his knee in the battle. Dahlia had heard that on long expeditions, knights sometimes put off getting healed due to the worry of not having enough potions or magic reserves. She didn’t know if Volf had been healed with a potion or by magic, but she was glad that his injury had been taken care of quickly.

“Thank you so much, again! Ah, my horse is waiting, so I must go. I apologize for detaining you while you are with your wife!”

“Huh? No, she’s not—”

“Um, I’m not—”

The young man bowed and ran off, leaving Volf and Dahlia sputtering in his wake.

How could that man have mistaken Dahlia for Volf’s wife? Volf wasn’t wearing his fairy glasses currently, but even if he had been, the difference between them should have made it obvious she wasn’t.

“Sorry, Dahlia! I hope his comment didn’t offend you...” Volf apologized as her thoughts were spinning in confusion.

“No, it’s okay! Please don’t worry about it!” Dahlia nearly shouted. But if anyone should have been offended by that comment, it was Volf.

Dahlia transferred the basket of milk pudding back to her hand and faced forward. She took deep breaths to keep her blush from rising to her cheeks.

“All right, let’s go! I want to meet the babies as soon as possible.”

“Right, me too.”

Volf shifted the two wooden boxes back to both arms, and the two of them walked into the hospitalization ward of the temple.

Marcella greeted them in the hallway. He had noticeable bedhead, and his eyes were slightly red. “Hey, Dahlia, Volf. Whoa, those’re some big boxes you’re carrying...”

“Congratulations! We brought enough food to last you a while.”

“Congratulations, Marcella! Uh, you look a little tired. Are you okay?”

“The twins have been taking turns crying. Bernolto and Dino both have a whole lotta energy. Ah, but don’t worry about us. Our families are here to help us, and Irma’s got earplugs to help her sleep.”

The twins’ names were Bernolto and Dino. They were nice, handsome names. And Dahlia wasn’t surprised to hear that caring for twins was a lot of work.

“Is it okay if we meet them now?” Dahlia asked. “If Irma’s asleep, we can come back another time.”

“No, she just woke up a bit ago. She’s been waiting for you two.”

Dahlia and Volf followed Marcella down the hallway. Irma’s room was near the back of the temple. Since she had twins, she was in a sizable room with enough space for aides to come in and out and family to stay over.

When they reached the door, Volf stopped just outside of it.

“All right, I’ll wait out here.”

“You can come in too, Volf,” Marcella said.

“I can’t. Don’t they say not to see a woman who’s given birth for twenty days? I don’t want to make her uncomfortable.”

“Don’t worry about that. Irma said she wants to see both you and Dahlia.”

With Marcella’s assurance, all three of them entered the room. The white-walled room smelled of something faintly sweet, like milk. Irma was in bed, sitting against the headboard. She smiled brightly at them.

“Dahlia, Volf, thanks for coming.”

“Congratulations, Irma!”

“Congratulations, Irma.”

“Thank you. I’m so happy.”

Irma’s hair was in a braid, and she wore a cream-colored jacket over a dark blue dressing gown. The magic-absorbing bracelet had vanished from her wrist, replaced by her marriage bracelet. Dahlia felt deeply relieved when she saw that.

Dahlia and Volf handed all the provisions they’d brought to Marcella, then walked over to Irma. As soon as they did, she took off her blanket and started to get out of bed.

“Wait, Irma, don’t get up. You can stay there,” Dahlia told her.

“I’m fine. Sitting down all the time hurts my back.”

Once she was out of bed, Irma stood next to the cribs.

“They were howling like storms just a moment ago, but now they’re sleeping like magic crystals that’ve exhausted their power.”

“You two, come look at them while they’re being cute,” Marcella added.

The couple smiled at them, so Dahlia and Volf quietly crept closer to the cribs. Dahlia was surprised that babies could be so small. Their soft chubbiness was so adorable. It was still hard to tell from their facial features whom they took after, but the little hair they had was tea brown—the same color as Irma’s.

Next to their pillows were slips of paper with their individual names on them. Bernolto’s name was written in very careful but eccentric handwriting. The edges of the paper were slightly crumpled, as if the baby had grabbed it.

Dino’s name was written in a very elegant script. Dahlia wouldn’t have been surprised if it had been written by a scribe who drew up important paperwork. Some of the lettering was smudged, so she wondered if the baby had cried on it.

“Bernolto and Dino are great names,” she said.

“Lord Bernigi and his wife wrote those. It’s called a hand, and it’s something nobles do. They’re written by the oldest members of a family and are a blessing for longevity.”

“I hope their lives are as long and as healthy as Lord Bernigi’s. And as strong... It’d be amazing if they grow up to be as strong as him. Yeah...” Volf said. A faraway look crossed his face.

As old as he was, Bernigi had rejoined the Order of Beast Hunters as a new recruit. Moreover, he was able to hold his own against Volf in sparring matches—and even to get the better of him occasionally.

Dahlia hoped that the twins could inherit some of their great-grandfather’s vigor. However, she also hoped they cried little at night and slept deeply, for their family’s sake.

“Wanna hold them?” Marcella asked.

“Oh, I feel bad. They look so comfortable asleep. I can hold them later,” Dahlia replied.

They had all lowered their voices to a whisper.

Dahlia was fine with waiting until the twins were awake to hold them. Today, she was content with just looking at their precious sleeping faces.

“So, uh, I wanted to thank you again,” Marcella said.

His voice sounded formal, and when Dahlia turned to look, she saw him and Irma standing side by side.

“If it weren’t for you two, the four of us wouldn’t be here as a family... Thank you so much, Dahlia, Volf.”

“Dahlia, Volf. Thank you for saving our family,” Irma said.

They both bowed their heads down low.

Dahlia felt flustered. “You two don’t have to thank us, really...”

“I didn’t do anything. I just told my brother what was happening. Dahlia did all the hard work, with Oswald’s instruction...” Volf followed with similar hesitation.

“You’re wrong,” Marcella said. “If it weren’t for you two, Bernolto and Dino wouldn’t be here.”

“And I probably wouldn’t be here either,” Irma added.

Dahlia had been about to tell them not to worry about it, that it had been no big deal, but now she found herself reconsidering. That wasn’t true. Without the help of Volf, Oswald, Tobias, Guido, and the Scalfarotto family, it was true that there would not have been a future where all four of them would be here together.

There was only one thing Dahlia could say.

“Then please, be as happy as you possibly can, Irma, Marcella.”

Since the four of them were here now together, she wanted them to be happy as a family. When she spoke her hope aloud, Marcella scratched his head.

“I’m already as happy as can be, though.”

“You can be even happier. Now you get to experience the joys of raising children.”

“Volf, I’ve already been experiencing that for days now.”

“You also have to make sure you get along as a family.”

“We’ve already got that covered, Dahlia. These boys have perfect teamwork. As soon as one settles back to sleep after crying, the other starts crying too.”

Everyone burst into laughter, then quickly muffled themselves. They turned to look at the babies, but they were still sleeping peacefully.

After they exchanged smiles, Dahlia and Volf left the room.

As they walked toward the carriage stop, Volf said, with emotion in his voice, “I know Irma and Marcella have their hands full with the twins, but they look so happy...”

“Yes. And Bernolto and Dino are really cute...”

Their short, soft hair, their round, pink cheeks, and their gentle breathing coming from their slightly opened small mouths... The way they moved their tiny little hands as they slept, as if reaching to grab hold of the future, was so cute Dahlia couldn’t stand it.

She hoped that when they grew up, they would call her Auntie Dahlia.

“I bet you were a really cute baby too, Dahlia.”

“I’m sure you were even cuter, Volf.”

Neither of them knew what the other had looked like as an infant, but considering how handsome Volf was, Dahlia was certain his features had been present when he was a baby too. There was no doubt he had been adorable.

“I wish I could’ve seen what you looked like as a baby...” she whispered on impulse.

Volf heard her. He turned to face her and said, “Me, really? Personally, I’d rather see your child.”

“...What?”

“...Ah.”

Volf suddenly brought up the next generation—Dahlia’s children. No, that’s not it. He meant to say that he wanted to have seen me when I was a child. There’s nothing wrong with that.

Dahlia and Volf simultaneously took a breath and let it out.

“Um, didn’t you say people said you resembled your mother when you were a child?” Dahlia asked, attempting to get their conversation back on track.

“Yeah! The senior knights on the squad say boys usually take after their mothers, while girls take after their fathers.”

They sped up their walking pace, and once they reached the carriage, Volf turned around to look back at the temple. Dahlia did the same. Irma and her family were safe now. A feeling of relief washed over her again.

“I’m so glad they’re both—I mean, the four of them are doing well...” Volf said, his golden eyes staring intently at her. “Dahlia, you really are amazing.”

“Who, me? I couldn’t have done it without you, Volf. If anyone is amazing, it’s you.”

“No, all I did was go to my brother for help—”

“And if you hadn’t, things wouldn’t have turned out the way they did. And that villager we met in front of the temple looked so happy when he saw you.”

“Huh?”

Volf’s golden eyes went wide. It seemed he hadn’t even realized it himself.

“You helped protect his entire village, and everyone made it through the attack alive and well. That’s something amazing, don’t you think?”

As a Beast Hunter, Volf had saved the lives of all those villagers and many others. That was amazing, and something he should be more proud of.

“...Yeah, you’re right.”

Volf stared at his right arm for a moment, then smiled softly.

“I guess our reach and connections did make a difference.”

“Yes, they did.”

That day, as the sun was rising, Volf had said to her, “I’m sure everything’s going to be all right. We know people, you and I.”

She had felt like she would be crushed by her doubts and anxiety, but they had been able to protect their friends’ happiness. She was deeply proud of that.

Volf must have also been thinking about the people he protected as a Beast Hunter. The light in his eyes grew stronger.

“I’m glad I’m a magical toolmaker,” she said with a smile.

Volf returned her smile. “Yeah, and I’m glad I’m a Beast Hunter.”

It made Dahlia happy to hear him say that. It showed they both felt the same way.

Unable to think of anything to say next, Dahlia looked up at the sky with Volf.

A faint rainbow was visible in the forget-me-not-colored sky.

Extra Story: A Father and Daughter’s Magical Tool Invention Diaries—the Insect-Repelling Compact Magical Lantern

“Father, are you repairing a magical lantern?” Dahlia asked Carlo while he was working in the workshop.

“Yes. This is an insect-repelling compact magical lantern. I’m repairing it for a friend who owns a restaurant.”

Carlo was holding a small, old magical lantern. The shade, which had been a shiny silver color when it was brand-new, had turned a dull gray.

“Insect repelling?” Tobias asked. He was carrying a heavy box of materials. His almond-colored eyes sparkled with curiosity.

“Ah, I never taught you this, did I? I made it before you started coming here.”

Carlo laid out the specifications and blueprint in front of Dahlia and Tobias and began to explain to them the tool’s mechanisms and the method to repair it.

“The insect-repelling compact magical lantern is a magical tool I invented quite a while ago.”

The tool had the mechanisms of a magical lantern with an added feature of a pipe filled with a liquid whose scent repelled insects. Once it was lit, the liquid would warm up and permeate the air with its scent to keep insects away. It did not work when the magical lantern was turned off. The effect also went away if the lantern was turned on its side or tilted so that the liquid spilled out.

Maintaining the tool involved refilling the insect-repellent liquid, cleaning the part where the fire crystal was inserted—as he would for a regular magical lantern—and adding the piping for the insect repellent there. It was a bit time intensive.

“It seems useful, but there aren’t many on the market, are there?” Tobias asked. It was a painful question.

“That’s because there is portable insect repellent and insect repellent you can apply to your skin. I’m sure you two use such products when you go outside, yes?”

“I do, yes. But I think I like the scent of this lantern more. It’s nicer,” Dahlia said.

Indeed, the lantern’s aroma was subtly sweet. Generally, the solid liquid repellents had a stronger, minty scent.

“Liquid insect repellent is expensive. It also has a smaller range of effect, and it’s not suited for carrying around on your person. That’s why it hasn’t come into popular use,” Carlo explained.

Around the same time he developed the insect-repellent compact magical lantern, an insect repellent made by apothecaries had debuted on the market. There were several types, such as repellent that could be placed in a room, carried around, or applied to the skin.

Compared to the insect-repelling lantern—which was expensive, had a small range, needed to be cleaned, and wasn’t suited to being carried around since the insect-repellent liquid would spill out when the lantern was tilted—it was only natural that the portable insect repellent became more popular.

Carlo had developed it because he was absolutely certain it would be convenient for people to use, so he had felt disheartened about its lack of success at the time.

“But your friend is still using it, isn’t he?” Dahlia pointed out.

“Yeah. He hangs it outside the entrance of his restaurant. The insects stay out, and since it doesn’t have a strong smell, it doesn’t bother people while they’re eating. My friend told me he always uses it.”

Carlo’s friend had said that when customers smelled insect repellent, it lowered their appetites even when presented with a delicious meal, which also lowered sales.

In actuality, although sales of the insect-repelling compact magical lantern were low, they were consistent. Apparently, they were used in kitchens and shops that handled food, rooms with patients, or by people sensitive to smells.

The lantern that Carlo’s friend had been using for years had broken last night. A drunkard had run into it, and the tubing holding the liquid repellent had broken. It was only one of three that the restaurant used, so they had not had to close for the day, but Carlo’s friend had begged him to fix it as soon as he could.

He had completely replaced the insect repellent tubing, so the lantern should be back in working order tonight.

“Then it is an essential tool for him. We should learn how to make it!”

“You’re right. And we need to learn how to properly repair it too!”

His apprentices’ expressions became those of magical toolmakers as they looked at the specifications and blueprint for the tool.

“That’s right. Magical toolmaking doesn’t stop at inventing. You also have to think about how a tool will be used. Make sure you work hard to think of its future as well,” Carlo said in a somewhat strict tone.

“Yes, sir!” his apprentices replied with serious looks in their eyes.

“Nevertheless, some things can’t be predicted. Don’t get discouraged when a tool you were convinced would be a big seller ends up being a flop...” Carlo said, his shoulders slumping.

Tobias looked at him with worry. “M-Master...”

As usual, his daughter knew it was just an act and looked back at the blueprint. This was a common thing between them.

But even these moments would soon be coming to an end.

Thanks to the effective painkiller Duke Zanardi had given him the other day, Carlo no longer needed to take any other medicines or potions. He felt so great that he almost wanted to believe that he had been completely healed.

However, the flavors of the meals Dahlia made for him were undeniably dulled, and he felt himself get short of breath when he walked.

The small brown bottle was only a little more than half full. Regardless of his own preparedness for it, the sand of the hourglass continued to fall.

“Next time I need to repair this type of lantern, I’ll leave the task to you two.”

His apprentices nodded, then began conversing as they examined the specifications and blueprint documents. Dahlia was suggesting a way to improve the tubing for the liquid insect repellent, and Tobias was proposing a better method for the lantern’s maintenance.

As he saw how well they complemented each other by thinking of things the other didn’t, Carlo let out a quiet sigh. Both magical toolmakers wore very similar expressions. There was nothing Carlo had to worry about anymore. They would become good colleagues and a good family. At least, all he could do was pray that they would.

That evening, Carlo headed to his friend’s restaurant near the port. The street lined with small pubs and restaurants was bustling with people in search of dinner and drink. Due to the street’s proximity to the port, Carlo also heard Ehrlichian and Išranic being used to call out to customers.

“Carlo, thank you! You’re a lifesaver!” his friend cried out to him as soon as they saw each other.

Carlo lit the lantern and hung it on a hook by the door, its usual place since the restaurant opened.

His friend looked at the glow of the lantern and nodded.

“Nothing beats this! The solid insect repellent smells too strong. It just doesn’t work here.”

“Though it’s a fair bit worn out now.”

At the entrances of nearby shops hung brand-new magical lanterns and lanterns with ornate designs. This restaurant was the only establishment with an insect-repelling compact magical lantern at its entrance.

Having noticed where Carlo’s eyes wandered, his friend grinned at him.

“As long as I’m here, I’ll be using this. If it breaks again, I’ll bring it to you to fix.”

“Is that so...”

I probably won’t be the one to accept that request. As he struggled to decide whether to tell his friend that one of his apprentices would be handling the next round of repairs, he felt a hand clap his shoulder. He was sure his friend hadn’t put much strength into the action, but Carlo’s weakened body was unable to bear the force of it, and he stumbled.

His shoulder hit against the wall of the restaurant with a soft thump.

“Carlo, quit messing around,” his friend said with a laugh. Then, his face turned serious and he grabbed his arm with concern. “Or are you actually unwell?”

Carlo tried to come up with a convincing lie. “I had a bit to drink before coming here.”

“Oh, so you’re just drunk! You’re going to make poor Dahlia worry.”

Unable to respond, Carlo forced a smile and nodded.

A mildly sweet scent began wafting out of the soft orange light.

“I should really talk to Dahlia...”

Lying down in his bed, Carlo let out a long exhale.

Today, the contents of the small brown bottle had dropped to less than half. Thankfully, he was not in pain, but he was walking slower now. He explained it away as lower back pain from sitting down too long and grumbled about getting older.

But it was only a matter of time until Dahlia realized.

Tomorrow, he would burn all the journals and notes in his study. He should be able to rely on Tobias to put away the stacks of picture books he had placed around to keep Dahlia out of his room.

His daughter might lose respect for him, but he would address a letter bearing his last will and testament to Tobias. He did not want Dahlia to read the contents of that letter.

He had tried four times to write her a letter, but he’d thrown them all away. He wanted to tell her himself, not write it in a letter. Even if it was late to be thinking that.

As a child, Dahlia had told him she wished she didn’t have red hair like her mother but sand-colored hair like Carlo’s. Sofia, their maid, had tried to make her feel better by pointing out she had green eyes like her father, but his daughter had puffed out her cheeks and insisted that she wanted to match him in both hair and eye color.

Those words had sent a pang through his chest.

Young as she was, she never talked about her mother, much less said she missed her. Was that because she was heaven-blessed, or was she just trying to make Carlo feel better? He felt it had to be something she felt sad over.

However, when he suggested that, she denied it.

“I’m fine! I have you, daddy!”

Carlo would never forget that radiant smile.

He decided he would love his daughter twice as much, enough for both him and his wife. He would do whatever he could to protect his daughter, to hide the fact she was heaven-blessed, to teach her everything she needed to know to make a living as a magical toolmaker, and to surround her with people who would look out for her.

But now he wondered if that had been the right thing to do.

Dahlia had never once asked about her mother nor expressed any wish to be part of the nobility. Carlo suspected it was because she felt Teresa had abandoned or discarded the two of them. In order for him to explain that was not the case, he would have had to tell her about his and Teresa’s uncelebrated wedding, Teresa’s standpoint, her family, the Lambertis, and the troubles of nobility.

Dahlia’s emotions showed easily on her face. There was the possibility that if she found out about everything, it would show in her demeanor or get her in trouble. Fearing that, Carlo had put off telling her, and to this day, he still hadn’t.

However, at this rate, she would continue to harbor misconceptions about her mother. As her father, it was his duty to clear up those misconceptions before he passed on to the other side.

He had business to take care of at the Merchants’ Guild today. Once he returned home, he would tell Dahlia about Teresa. He would tell Dahlia that she was wanted, loved, and cherished not just by Carlo himself but by her mother as well. He would tell her everything he remembered about how he and Teresa met, their short yet happy days together, and how Dahlia’s grandparents had celebrated her birth.

And one more thing. Duke Zanardi had promised Carlo he would never contact his apprentices. That man—Fausto Zanardi—was not someone to go back on his word. But that did not mean his successor would honor the promise. Carlo should probably warn her about that too.

However, if he did, he would also have to explain to her the enchantments he had been made to do for the castle, which meant there was a very good chance she would realize the reason for his current poor condition. Would she get angry? Would she cry? Or both? He was already becoming unsure of his own decision.

Carlo let out a sigh at his own hopelessness, then rose from his bed.

The weather was beautiful today, and yet, strangely, the sunlight coming through the windows stung his eyes.

After he got dressed, he washed his face and went to have breakfast with his daughter as he usually did. They had a system: The one who rose first would make breakfast and the one who rose later would make café au lait and wash the dishes.

Today, Carlo was the first one awake, so he spread butter on fresh-baked bread and made fried eggs and sautéed greens. They were a little salty, according to Dahlia.

After they ate, it was time to tidy up and leave for the day.

“See you later, father. Take care,” she told him.

“See you, Dahlia. When you get back— Actually, it can wait. Come home safe.”

After he saw his smiling daughter off, Carlo left the tower.

In the hallway of the Merchants’ Guild, Carlo gazed out the window at the city. How many more times will I get to see this view? he wondered. It was unlike him to think such things.

He was looking at all the people coming and going when a familiar face walked toward him from the other end of the hallway.

“Mr. Carlo.”

“Ah, Mr. Ivano.”

He was an employee of the guild, a friend Carlo often talked to and occasionally went out for dinner or drinks with.

“Have you already ordered all the materials you need today?”

“I have. My apprentices wrote up the list for me. I only came to hand it in.”

“The Adventurers’ Guild seems to be very busy lately, so once we get some rare materials in, I will let you know.”

“Well, I... I’m looking forward to it,” Carlo said with hesitation.

Although Ivano was an employee of the Merchants’ Guild, he knew materials like an employee of the Adventurers’ Guild.

In the past, Ivano had often drilled Carlo for information about magical tools and materials. But recently, Ivano had been able to answer Carlo’s questions regarding the price of monster materials for magical tools—a price that fluctuated with the market—without consulting any notes, and now he was going to reach out to Carlo when rare materials were available.

Carlo couldn’t help but think Ivano was more suited to being a merchant who traded in materials himself rather than being a guild employee.

But he knew the day he said as much, the guildmaster and his wife would tell him, “Don’t give our apprentice and capable staff member any ideas!” So instead, he decided to change the subject to something he very much enjoyed.

“Soon it’ll be the season to enjoy a nice, cold ale.”

“Yes, indeed. But Dahlia will get upset if you drink too much.”

As they had their usual back and forth, something occurred to Carlo. Perhaps he should also ask Ivano to look after Dahlia.

The man also had daughters. Carlo might not be able to ask him to look after her as if she were his daughter, but he could at least ask him to help her when she was in trouble.

“Iv...”

As he started to say Ivano’s name, his vision blurred terribly.

“...Ngh!”

Pain exploded inside him, but he couldn’t so much as yell. He was about to collapse to the floor, but he couldn’t get his feet to move.

“Are you okay, Mr. Carlo...? Mr. Carlo?! Someone call a doctor!”

Carlo was unable to say anything as Ivano panicked over him. It was all he could do to tilt his head slightly.

All he could see was the wall of the hallway and the window. He wondered if this was the last thing he would ever see.

Can’t I have a little more time?

I still haven’t asked Ivano to look after Dahlia.

I still haven’t told Dahlia about her mother.

I still haven’t taught my apprentices everything about magical tools.

I still haven’t said goodbye to my daughter.

I still haven’t done so, so, so much—

The sky was an endless blue. He knew that even with his eyes closed.

Among that blue, Carlo saw his daughter’s smile clear as day.

Her smile was radiant as the sun and as beautiful as a flower. Behind her, he saw his wife wearing a very similar smile. As they stood before a field of dahliya flowers in bloom in summertime, his wife and daughter held hands and smiled at him.

This was the sight Carlo most wanted to see.

“Da...”

Dahlia! Teresa! he wanted to cry out, but he couldn’t get past the first syllable.

He couldn’t hear his own voice.

“Mr. Carlo!”

Instead, he heard Ivano shouting his name.

If he could, he wanted to bow his head down and plead to him.

Like himself, Dahlia was a magical toolmaker without a head for business. She wouldn’t know how to be strategic.

So please, Ivano, could you lend my daughter a hand—

“Mr. Carlo...!”

The voice yelling his name grew farther away until he could no longer hear it.

Silence engulfed him as he unraveled. The pain inside him vanished, and he no longer felt the coldness of the floor. The regrets that tore him up and the attachments he couldn’t let go of all faded into nothingness.

As they did, Carlo prayed.

Don’t take away my memories of my wife and daughter. Just let me remember that everlasting love.

Please—

The sky was an endless blue that stretched high for eternity.

The prayers of the departed faded into the heavens.