25 – Crafting the Game

Driving a sword into the floor isn’t exactly an efficient action.

It creates conditions ripe for a surprise attack, pointlessly expending strength and time.

‘Even so, the reason Lorraine drove her sword into the floor…’

Is because even performing such an act, even doing such a thing, the outcome remains unchanged.

“……”

An Upper-Tier Sword Expert.

A title whose prestige was somewhat dimmed by the more illustrious Sword Master.

Yet, there were only three Sword Masters, and they were bound by myriad restrictions… making Upper-Tier Sword Expert the designation for the strongest beings in existence.

In other words, an Upper-Tier Sword Expert was akin to a war machine, capable of utterly shifting the tide of battle regardless of the opponent’s experience or numbers.

And so, entrusting the rear to Lorraine, I resolved to bury my hammer in Elyssia’s skull, raising my hand high, when.

“… Perhaps we should all calm down a little.”

Elyssia spoke, producing a new artifact from within her garments.

“Let’s talk again after heads have cooled.”

“Is there even a need to speak again? I have no intention of listening to whatever nonsense you spout.”

“That’s for the unknown, isn’t it? Just as you brought warmth to the North, I might bring something similar to you.”

With those words, mana diffused in all directions, and Elysia’s form began to blur.

It seemed she was manifesting teleportation magic using an artifact.

Of course, I had no intention of letting her go just like that.

I swung my hammer at the shield once more, saying,

“I don’t need it, so just vanish.”

As soon as those words left my mouth and the hammer struck the shield, it burst, seemingly having reached its limit.

Watching the shield’s mana barrier shatter like shards of glass, I glanced at Elysia’s expression.

I caught her looking at me, quite flustered.

Did my warning register?

I watched Elysia disappear completely, then tucked the hammer back into my embrace.

“…”

Amidst the settling atmosphere, I nonchalantly sat back down in the interview room chair, signaling the end of the first meeting.

*

“Damian…”

Returning to the lodgings, the first thing I saw was Siren, pacing anxiously.

She must have received word of what happened earlier from Lorraine.

I noticed she was waiting for me, hands full of bandages.

“Are you alright?”

She approached me, examining me from head to toe, her worry evident.

I wanted to stroke her hair, grateful for her concern, but

“Now’s not the time for that.”

With a serious expression, she shook her head, forcefully pulled me towards a chair, and sat me down.

“I’ll heal you.”

Then, she began applying bandages to my hands, my face, and… my foot? I didn’t know why she was putting them on my foot.

Watching her, I was bewildered and confessed the truth.

“I’m not hurt anywhere.”

“Is that even important right now?”

Then what is important? I honestly didn’t know.

About to give up on communication, I decided I really needed to ask about this, so I wiggled my foot and inquired,

“But, I’m truly asking out of curiosity, why do you put them on feet?”

“Because walking around makes your feet hurt, doesn’t it?”

“…? I suppose so.”

Understanding isn’t all that necessary for navigating this world.

What truly matters is tolerance, consideration, and love.

I gave up trying to understand and fell into a brief contemplation.

‘Now, shall we consider the aftermath?’

Though, there isn’t much of an aftermath to consider, really.

If we let it pass without a word, it’ll remain a petty squabble, ‘person against person.’

But the moment someone makes it public, it escalates into a feud, ‘house against house.’

Likely, both the Karsaril and Wintreaven houses will try to ignore it.

‘Especially since no one died or was seriously injured, after all.’

There’s no real reason to stir things up and bring it into the light.

So, the houses will decide it’s best to quietly cover things up and move on, meaning there shouldn’t be any problems…

But the problem, as always, was Elyssia.

‘No matter how I look at it, I can’t see her letting this slide.’

Of course, considering she wants something from me, she’s more likely to try and persuade me than seek revenge.

But the way she does things isn’t exactly conventional, which is why I’m so worried.

So, deciding to prepare for it, I was pondering what I should do when,

“Young Master, how about going out to clear your head?”

Lorraine suggested an outing.

*

Truthfully, I had so much to think about that I was about to decline.

But the moment I saw Siren staring blankly out the window from inside the mansion, I felt strangely guilty and found myself agreeing.

‘Besides, she’s suggesting it for my sake.’

It felt awkward to refuse and make her feel small.

I followed Lorraine, who was munching on a cookie, and Siren, who had a sun spirit perched on her head, and spoke.

“So, is there something you want to do?”

“Yes.”

Surprisingly, it was Siren who answered.

Siren looked at me, a long moment, before uttering something important I’d forgotten.

“So, when are you going to give Myang-myang a proper name?”

Already calling her Myang-myang, the question of what to *name* her felt quite peculiar.

Still, it wasn’t exactly wrong, so I directed the question to the spirit hovering above Siren’s head.

“Shall we give you a name?”

“Myang!”

“Is there, perhaps, a name you would like?”

It was Siren who answered first.

“Myang-myang goes ‘myang myang,’ so Myang-myang is the right name.”

Siren spoke with an air of triumph, as if imparting obvious common sense.

The spirit, upon hearing this,

*Whack!*

Rejected the idea with a swift head-chop, like a kitten delivering a *nyang-nyang* punch.

“……”

Was she shocked by the rejection?

Siren, struck on the head, deflated miserably, lowering her face.

I clicked my tongue, watching Siren.

“Even so, calling her Myang-myang is, well, a bit much.”

Besides, she’ll eventually shift into a human form like Fenrir, and saddling her with a name like Myang-myang might cause some awkwardness later on.

That’s why I was suggesting we give her a different name.

“Then, how about that one?”

Lorraine pointed to a flower, offering a rather good idea.

“How about Daisy? Daisies bloom in the daytime, you see, so it has a nice solar connection, don’t you think?”

It didn’t sound bad, and I nodded, asking the spirit if she liked the name ‘Daisy’.

“oooh, yes, yes!”

Clearly delighted, she transformed into a human form, nodding her head vigorously.

As I stroked Daisy’s hair, enjoying her enthusiasm, I suddenly noticed an intriguing scene in the distance.

Someone trying to chase away a stray dog, only to be counter-attacked.

The moment I saw that scene, I had an idea of how to overturn the game board that Elicia had laid out.

‘Counter-attack.’

So, to put it more plainly.

The idea was that before Dale came to kill me, I would go to kill Dale first.

* * * * *

Teleportation always worsened the headache.

Usually, sitting down for a short while resolved it, so it wasn’t a huge problem.

But in Alicia’s case, she was already suffering a significant headache, and then this was added on, so the moment she materialized on the street, she immediately began to retch.

Uuurrrgggh.

There wasn’t anything to bring up, not really.

But that didn’t mean nothing came out; a sour, revolting liquid coated her throat, accompanied by pain.

Her heart ached to just sit down and rest for a moment, but the situation demanded otherwise, so she forced herself to her feet and glared ahead.

‘…I have to get to Dale right away.’

Damian’s animosity was stronger than she’d anticipated.

Of course, she’d predicted the animosity would be strong to some extent, but she hadn’t expected him to attack with a hammer even while she was begging for forgiveness, so she realized its magnitude was greater than expected.

‘It’s alright. I can handle this much.’

It exceeded expectations, but not to the point of being unmanageable.

So, she thought, she would just cover it up with something else, and she pushed forward, clutching at her staggering legs.

It wasn’t excruciating pain, but it was annoyingly bothersome, and she frowned.

Just as she reached the lodgings secured by the Northern forces, she spotted Dale about to head out.

Thankful that their paths hadn’t crossed, she spoke to him.

“…Lord Dale, would you accompany me for a little while?”

He seemed taken aback by the sudden visit and the request for company.

But perhaps because she’d cultivated some emotional connection with him, he nodded without much hesitation.

She gave him a bright, practiced smile and said,

“Thank you. Let’s take a stroll.”

She hadn’t recovered enough, and her stomach was churning. It was as if the churning and the headache had become intertwined, an awful pain spreading through her mind.

But to set the stage, she had to endure it. She acted as if nothing was wrong, and steered their steps towards ‘the slum area nearby.’

People who had lost their homes due to demons or monsters and were pushed to the edge of the cliff.

Of course, it was ironic that conditions there were still better than the worst in the North, but that wasn’t what mattered now.

Deliberately showing Dale the people scarred by war, she spoke with a degree of seriousness.

“Lord Dale, what are your thoughts on peace?”

“Peace, you say? It’s difficult to explain, though…”

He answered like an unsoiled commoner, showing empathy for those who suffered.

“Isn’t it the most necessary thing in this world?”

A laughable answer.

Peace, which changes depending on the perspective, changes depending on the environment, changes depending on one’s personal values.

To say it’s the *most* necessary was the kind of answer only someone truly naive would give.

Still, I suppressed my true thoughts and gave him a light smile.

“Huhu.”

“Ah… was my answer… unsatisfactory?”

“No. It was very… Dale-like. And I like things that are Dale-like.”

“Ah… thank you, Grand Duchess.”

“Elysia.”

“Th-that, Elysia…”

I looked at him, so easily flustered, so easily used and discarded, and thought.

…I’ll recommend Dale as a hero to both the Order and the Imperial Family.