Chapter 65

Mikhail was shrugging off his sleepwear when his hand drifted to the pendant hanging around his neck.

The pendant had turned black and was crumbling away from the edges. The aftermath of taking Julien's mana head-on.

Mikhail studied the damage for a moment, then let out a quiet sigh.

Even after using his own magic and a relic to dampen the impact, Julien's mana had been anything but trivial.

But the greater the risk, the greater the reward. Last night's clash must have triggered something.

Mikhail shifted his eyes to the empty air ahead. Golden text was inscribing itself into view.

【Notice: New combat experience has set a portion of your stats on an upward trajectory.】

A welcome piece of information, given that every inch of his body ached.

Mikhail read the message, allowed himself a small smile, and hauled his heavy frame into motion.

After washing up and getting dressed, he stepped outside the lodging and made his way down the corridor that led to the open air.

What's left now is solving the sleeping sickness spreading through the village. And….

Mikhail descended the stairs, then tilted his head and veered toward a side corridor.

He stopped in front of Julien's room.

Mikhail eyed the firmly shut door, then raised his hand and rapped on the solid panel.

Knock-knock-knock.

No answer came from inside. He knocked once or twice more, but before long let his hand drop.

Now wasn't the time to drag him out. Yesterday had been a shock for Julien—a genuine turning point.

Just sorting through everything and coming to terms with what had changed would have been exhausting enough. His nerves were probably still frayed on top of it.

Mikhail released a short breath, then raised his voice.

"Julien. Edwin and I are heading out to pick up some supplies for the mission. Get some rest."

---

Gulp.

Mikhail knocked back a makeshift energy tonic—a haphazard mix of several drinks—in one swallow and surveyed his surroundings.

The area near Colton Winery's main square was a little sparse. The thinning foot traffic was almost certainly due to the sleeping sickness.

By now, stories would be circulating in earnest—someone who'd slept for thirty-two hours straight and still wouldn't wake, someone who hadn't stirred even after five buckets of cold water.

That kind of talk tended to spread fast.

[Bookshop: Red Grape Hymnal]

Mikhail eventually stopped in front of a bookshop tucked into a corner of the square.

He picked up two booklets from the display stand, fished out some silver coins, and approached the clerk.

The clerk was absorbed in arranging a fresh display of magazines filled with folk remedies.

Perhaps because of that, she barely glanced at the booklets Mikhail held out.

She stuffed the coins he handed over into her apron pocket, and that was that for the transaction.

[Colton Winery Tourist Guide: From the Main Square to the Guardian Tree's Hill.]

Mikhail stepped out of the bookshop and looked down at the title on the cover.

That was when Edwin, standing right beside him, shoved his head in for a look.

He scanned the title and spoke in a tone dripping with complaint.

"First you chug some nightmare cocktail made of random drinks, and now you're buying a tourist guide? You said we were going to get supplies to deal with the sleeping sickness—was sightseeing the real plan all along?"

Mikhail looked at Edwin and replied.

"Hardly."

"Then what's with the drinks and the tourist guide?"

Instead of answering right away, Mikhail picked up one of the booklets and handed it to Edwin.

"…?"

Edwin stared blankly at the booklet in front of him, then scrunched his brow and looked at Mikhail.

"What's this? Why are you giving it to me?"

Mikhail let out a small sigh and answered.

"It's information on the area we'll be patrolling tomorrow. Going out to scout it in person right now would be a hassle, so… read up on it instead. Especially the part about the Guardian Tree's Hill and the legends tied to it."

Mikhail pushed the booklet into Edwin's hands and started walking again.

Next stop was the grocery store. He needed ingredients to make ground olive sandwiches.

The five fruits he'd secured when they first entered the village outskirts.

He had to prepare food using those and eat it in advance—otherwise he'd never withstand the drowsiness that would come later.

〈Food: Ground Olive Whole Wheat Nut Sandwich〉

[Made by spreading a paste of stewed ground olives—a local specialty of Colton Winery—onto a Linken baguette baked with the village's various grains. Reportedly enjoyed by only a handful of villagers. Upon consumption, grants resistance to [Region: Colton Winery]'s special debuff: Sleep.]

"—Hey! You're just walking off without a word again!"

Edwin grumbled and griped the whole way, but dutifully followed along.

Mikhail crossed the square and turned into the shopping district. He stopped once he reached the road leading into the residential area.

A grocery store wafting the scent of bread sat right ahead.

Mikhail confirmed the name "Linken" on the sign, then walked up to the entrance and stepped inside.

"Ooh. They've got a lot of stuff in here. And the smell is amazing!"

Edwin seemed to have already forgotten his complaints. He sniffed the air like a puppy who'd just wandered into a restaurant, nose twitching eagerly.

Mikhail swept his gaze across the store interior, where a few customers milled about, and spoke to Edwin.

"Go grab a bag of candy for me. I'm heading over to get a baguette."

While Edwin moved to follow instructions, Mikhail picked up a nearby basket and a pair of tongs.

A single baguette sat by the window. He absolutely needed that one to make the sandwich—

Clack.

Two pairs of tongs crossed in front of the baguette.

Mikhail turned his head to see who held the other pair.

Brown hair tied back in a low knot. Calm green eyes. A security force uniform worn neat and proper—a familiar face.

"…Nelia."

Mikhail called her name. Nelia lifted her gaze from the baguette and slowly met his eyes.

"Hello, Mikhail."

Nelia dipped her head in a brief, polite bow. Mikhail returned the gesture and spoke.

"Sorry, but could I ask you to let me have this one? I really need it."

"It doesn't taste good. You'd be better off picking something else."

"I know the right way to prepare it."

"I doubt that."

Mikhail eyed the tongs Nelia showed no intention of yielding, then looked up.

Edwin had sidled over with a bag of candy in hand and was glancing back and forth between them, eyes darting busily.

Meanwhile, Nelia stared straight at Mikhail with no sign of backing down.

Mikhail hummed in thought for a moment, then said casually.

"I'm making ground olive sandwiches. Want me to share some with you?"

Nelia's eyes lit up. The gaze that had been fixed on Mikhail dropped to the baguette sitting between them.

Something like resolve flickered across her face.

Snap.

It happened in an instant. Nelia snatched the baguette and made a beeline for the register.

Mikhail watched her retreating back in silence.

In the meantime, Edwin nudged his shoulder and asked in a dumbfounded voice.

"Huh? Hey. Didn't you say you needed that? You're just gonna let her walk off with it? Seriously?"

Mikhail blinked slowly, then turned his head toward Edwin.

"You have to give a little to get a little. Right?"

"…Huh?"

Edwin was still blinking in confusion when Nelia returned from the register carrying a box of sliced baguette.

She walked up to them and held the box out to Mikhail.

"Here. This one's on me."

Mikhail accepted the box without objection. Nelia's expression softened into something a touch more generous, and she added.

"You only need to bring two or three slices to the security quarters. Nobody else really… eats them anyway."

Mikhail studied her for a moment, then gave an easy nod.

"Sure. I'll bring them over as soon as they're ready."

"……."

---

How many hours had he been like this? Julien opened his eyes slowly from the bed.

He moved the arm that had been draped across his forehead to the side, then dragged his body upright.

The twilight seeping through the curtains caught his eye. Julien turned his head toward the window and murmured.

"When did it… get this late."

He shifted his gaze back to the front and perched on the edge of the bed.

His mind felt hollow, and the events of the previous day drifted through his consciousness like phantoms.

Having every secret laid bare by Mikhail. Losing control of his mana and attacking him. And then—

[Train with me. From now on.]

Julien replayed the image of Mikhail making that quiet, conspiratorial offer, then let his eyelids fall shut again.

"Hah…."

What surfaced with the emptying breath was last night's standoff—finally concluded after everything it had put him through.

The sudden exposé. The exchange of magic fire.

Every step of what followed had been agonizing to endure, but at least it hadn't ended badly.

No—it was the opposite, actually.

The outcome had been better than he'd dared to hope.

He'd gained someone he could be honest with, and found another way to keep his mana in check. Still.

Did everything really work out for the best?

…A crooked hypothesis reared its head from somewhere deep in his mind.

Can you guarantee this is the last time your secret leaks? What are the odds that training will actually produce the results you're hoping for? How far can you even trust Mikha—

"—No!"

Julien cut the thought off with a sharp cry. The spiraling doubts scattered like smoke.

"……."

He grimaced and bit down on his lip.

The wall of optimism that had shielded his eyes for so long had all but lost its power.

And as if in recoil, a barrage of pessimistic thoughts began surfacing from the depths of his mind, firing in every direction.

Knock-knock-knock.

That was when someone rapped on the door. Julien sprang to his feet and crossed to the entrance.

Click.

The door opened to reveal Mikhail, his face expressionless.

"Oh, Mikhail."

Julien looked at him, then offered an awkward smile and rubbed the back of his neck.

It had just hit him that he'd spent the entire day in bed under the excuse of feeling unwell.

He stole a cautious glance at Mikhail's expression and spoke.

"I… sorry. I just lay around all day. Starting tomorrow, I'll handle all the small stuff too, so—"

Thrust.

But the sentence never finished. Mikhail had shoved a booklet and a lunch box toward him.

Julien blinked in confusion, his gaze bouncing between the items and Mikhail's face.

Now that he looked more closely—something he'd missed a moment ago—Mikhail didn't look so great.

Drained of color, if he had to put a word to it.

"Kghh."

While Julien tilted his head in puzzlement, Mikhail still said nothing.

He shifted his weight once, then pushed the lunch box forward again with added emphasis.

Julien accepted it almost on reflex and peeked inside with tentative curiosity.

A sandwich? But what's that… inside it?

On closer inspection, a dark, murky substance resembling jam had been slathered generously between the slices of bread.

Julien was still cocking his head at the sandwich's alarming appearance when—

"BWUEEEEGH!"

Edwin's voice came retching through the window outside. Han and Ul's cries punctuated the gaps.

…A terrible premonition slammed through his mind.

Julien raised his gaze from the sandwich and looked hesitantly at Mikhail.

Rustle.

Mikhail's face had gone a shade paler than before. With hands trembling visibly, he fished a fistful of candy from his inner pocket.

Then, in a halting voice, he managed to speak.

"The sandwich… eat all of it… in front of me. Don't leave a single bite."

---

Roughly an hour later.

"Urgh…."

Mikhail clamped a hand over his mouth as a dry heave tried to claw its way up.

The ground olive sandwich had tasted like shoving a mouthful of damp soil and chewing.

Just recalling the texture was enough to turn his stomach inside out. What he really wanted was to stuff his mouth with candy and spend the rest of the day rubbing Han and Ul's backs.

"……."

But there was no time to indulge.

He needed to go now—straight to the security headquarters, where Bant would be working.