Chapter 23: In a Room of the Bordeaux Estate

In a room of the Bordeaux Estate, Ashcroft lay in tatters on the bed. He had been done in by Angeline’s merciless, relentless attacks. However, Angeline, who was supposed to have been victorious, was instead despondent and shamefaced. In front of her, Belgrieve stood scowling with folded arms.

“Ange...I know you’re strong. But your father doesn’t think it’s right for a strong person to one-sidedly attack someone weaker.”

“But dad...he started it.”

“Even if he is at fault, is that enough reason for you to go berserk?”

“Urgh...”

“No griping. If you’re going to let power go to your head, you’d be better off not picking up a sword at all.”

For once, Belgrieve seemed sincerely angry. Angeline was down in the dumps, of course, but she wasn’t the only one—Miriam, Anessa, and Sasha, who had all egged her on, seemed affected as well. Helvetica and Seren exchanged glances, watching silently from the back.

It was around that time that Ashcroft groaned as he raised his torso from the bed. “No, sir... This is my mistake. Sir Belgrieve, please don’t be so angry at Angeline.”

“But Ashcroft, you’re an important official tasked with the internal management of the territory. Now that she’s put you out of commission...”

“That is precisely why I should have shown some self-restraint... Despite being a steward who should have known better, I let foolhardiness get the better of me. Belgrieve, Angeline, you have my apologies. It’s not as bad as it looks. My bones and muscles don’t hurt so—ow!”

Ashcroft grimaced as a maid pressed a cloth soaked in disinfectant against his wounds.

Belgrieve sighed. “You don’t know how thankful I am to hear you say that... Ange, apologize to Ashcroft.”

“Ugh...but...”

“Angeline.”

“I’m sorry...” Though clearly wholly reluctant, Angeline bowed her head.

“Umm...Sir Belgrieve,” Sasha timidly piped in. “This all happened at my suggestion. Please don’t be too angry at Ange...”

Anessa and Miriam were likewise apologetic, their gazes fixed on the floor.

“We fired her up... Sorry, Ashcroft.”

“It’s not all Ange’s fault. Sorry...”

“You have some good friends...” Belgrieve cracked a slight smile, placing a gentle hand over Angeline’s head. Angeline’s face, while sullen, softened ever so slightly. “Now then,” he said, purposely trying to sound cheerful, “I’ve made things rather awkward between us. You must be busy, Helvetica. Please, don’t mind us and return to your duties.”

Helvetica chuckled. “Thank you for the concern—I think I’ll do just that. I’ll be back with good medicine, Ashe. Rest well and restore your spirits. It was a good lesson for you, wasn’t it?”

“It was an honor... I have been reminded of my own immaturity.” Ashcroft inclined his head in humility.

Helvetica beamed as she pulled a chair up by the bed and took a seat. “Good... Well, now that Ashe can’t move, we’ll need to have your discussion here. After all, it seems that Count Malta will be here soon.”

“What?” Ashcroft grimaced.

Seren nodded. “We received a letter this morning. He’ll be here tomorrow at earliest, and if not, the day after.”

The discussion had begun, and Belgrieve hurriedly evacuated the room. He didn’t want to hear anything he shouldn’t.

“Good grief... What to do now? I don’t come here often, so maybe I should head to town.” He spoke to Angeline beside him, but she was still feeling down and offered no reply. And so, he patted her head with a wry smile. “Don’t be like that, Ange... You understand you went too far, don’t you?”

“That Ashe boy is more important to you than me... Isn’t he?”

“Hey now, don’t even think about that. Your daddy understands you got angry for my sake...”

For a while she stayed silent, but eventually she turned to him and held out her arms. “I’ll forgive you if you carry me.”

Belgrieve wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her onto his shoulder. Angeline buried her face into his hair, her eyes closed in satisfaction.

For some reason, Sasha watched with a sorrowful look on her face. “Hmm... I should have fawned over my father more...” she muttered.

Miriam meanwhile gave a mischievous laugh, circled around, and pushed her in the back. “It seems Sasha wants to be picked up too, Mr. Bell.”

“Whaaaat?! Merry?!”

Seeing her bright red face, Belgrieve quizzically tilted his head. Angeline frowned a bit, but nodded to herself and jumped down.

“She’s lacking fatherliness in her life, I see... Very well. I’ll make an exception.”

“Huh? Umm...err... Is that all right, Ange?”

“Yes... Pick her up, dad.”

“Hmm... Well, I don’t mind, but... Pardon me, Sasha.”

Still not quite understanding what was going on, Belgrieve reached around and placed the young woman on his shoulders in the same way he did for Ange.

“Whoa!” she cried out excitedly. “How...how nostalgic...!” Sasha placed her hands on his head, her eyes sparkling. “Yes... I remember father lifting me high like this...back when I was an infant.”

“I-I see...”

Sasha was taller and heavier than Angeline. However, it would be rude to call a woman weighty, and so Belgrieve put up with it, holding her aloft for a while. However, his aching joints eventually caught up to him, and he had to let her back down. It would probably get to his lower back if he pushed himself too far.

Sasha was visibly delighted. “Thank you, Master!”

“You’re welcome... Umm, would you quit it with the ‘master’ stuff...”

“Keep up that momentum, Mr. Bell! Anne’s next!” Miriam butted in.

“Hey, I’m fine, I say!” Anessa said in a panicky voice.

Belgrieve offered a troubled laugh. “Can you cut me some slack? My back is...”

“Y-You heard him! See, Merry? It’s not happening...”

“It will probably be fine tomorrow. Are you good for tomorrow?”

“Huh? Ah, err...sure,” Anessa said, turning red.

Miriam chuckled aloud. “Hee hee, then maybe I’ll let him hold me too, tomorrow.”

Hearing that, Angeline grimaced and shook her head. “Merry is no good... Too heavy.”

“Hey, who are you calling fat?!”

Miriam’s rage provoked laughter all around.

○

There was another mansion that could hardly be called luxurious. It was fashioned of wood and stone—sturdy, but sparsely ornamented. The decorative pieces that were on display all seemed terribly expensive, but they did not have much artistic sense or merit—it was as if they were chosen simply for their price, even betraying a certain lack of refinement.

In one of this mansion’s rooms, a disgruntled man in well-tailored clothes took a seat. He was just a little over fifty. Perhaps he didn’t exercise very regularly, or his middle age had not been kind to him, as he was putting on fat in all the worst places. And while he had an impressive mustache, the top of his head was not so blessed. This was Count Malta, Lord of Hazel, a town west of Bordeaux.

The count drank a mouthful of wine before roughly setting the glass on the table while he licked off the droplets caught in his mustache.

“I see. An S-Rank Adventurer... I’ve heard rumors of the demon slayer.”

An albino girl in a fur cap sat across from him. She remained silent, looking at the count as she would at a pile of filth.

The hooded boy standing behind her spoke up. “Then put the plan on hold. The Bordeaux House is enough to contend with; it would be reckless to make an enemy of her as well.”

“Hmm... This Solomon fellow’s power must not be all that great then.”

The girl’s brow twitched, but the boy interjected before she could say anything. “There’s no use in provoking us. It’s your head that will fly upon failure. As long as she leaves, everything should go as planned. Just hold on for now,” the boy said, his cool demeanor never wavering.

Count Malta responded to this with a humorless laugh. “Are you playing at being a first-rate schemer, whelp? I will keep your warning in mind.” The count poured more wine into his glass. “I’ll be going to Bordeaux after this. I should arrive by nightfall.”

“Hey, what about holding off on the plan?”

“What would holding off accomplish? You want me to wait until that S-Rank has left the territory... Do you know the pain of cowering in a corner in fear of uncertainty, child? The agony of watching your authority be lost to you, and suffering imprisonment in the middle of nowhere year after year?!”

He slammed his hand against the table, still holding his glass and spilling wine all over. His otherwise dull eyes burned with ambition and resentment.

“I’ve endured it for years, waiting for none other than this very day... The previous Count Bordeaux was formidable... However, he could not triumph over his illness. His daughter is resourceful, but she is only a woman. She conducts herself too cleanly. She is nothing compared to the vile serpents I had to contend with in the capital.”

Over the past few years, Count Malta had rallied the anti-Bordeaux faction within their territory. The House of Bordeaux had initially been an influential family that helped settle the land, and their moderate policies always took the common folk into careful consideration. This earned them immense support from the populace. However, it also ran completely against the aristocratic mindset of the nobles who drifted there from the central regions.

Nobles from the capital had a tendency to look down on the House of Bordeaux as ignorant hicks. The way that Sasha worked as an adventurer despite being a noble, and the way that the sisters toured their territory, at times even shedding sweat alongside the farmers—it all seemed so vulgar and lowborn to them.

Count Malta had spent years taking these opposing nobles under his wing. His forces were not yet overwhelming, but he had reached the point where he could hold real power if he could sway the opportunists to his side—so long as he could get the current countess out of the picture.

He had been driven from the capital, but he was still someone who had spent nearly all his life devoted to power struggles. His competency was such that he kept his peerage upon his defeat, and got off with merely being dispatched to the frontier.

“Nobles are different from those ill-bred lower classes. If they continue like this, the peasants will grow arrogant and begin proclaiming that the difference in status is but a trifle. Once that happens, forget the dukedom—the very empire will fall apart. A noble is a noble precisely because they maintain a noble demeanor. These girls do not understand... Listen well, the plan goes off today—tonight!”

The count chugged his wine all at once. Perhaps he was drunk—but this man had been just as mad the last time they had a meeting with him, and he was sober then. His lust for power was so strong it was getting to his head.

The boy exhaled a fed-up sigh. “I don’t care about your philosophy. However, we’ll cooperate as long as our interests align.”

“Fret not. Just play your part, and I’ll play mine. Who do you think I am? A noble must be noble. Wealth and authority... You understand, don’t you? Saint of Solomon?”

Without providing an answer to that question, the girl irritably stood and left the room, the boy trailing behind. She could hear Count Malta’s eerie laughter from behind.

Swiftly walking down the hall, the girl spat, “He’s as vulgar as ever, that man. A ghost of authority. Why, he reminds me of those damn monks in Lucrecia.”

“You’re not much better...”

“Don’t lump us together! Authority must be held by those worthy of it! Do you think that pig has the qualifications?!”

The girl turned with raised eyebrows, throwing a punch at the boy. The boy simply caught her fist.

Gritting her teeth, she turned and walked off again. “Trash, the lot of them! I’ll change it, goddammit... Change this whole world!”

“Do whatever you want, just don’t self-destruct.”

“Such nerve!”

She walked out into the courtyard. The sun loomed directly overhead, pouring down radiant light and causing mist to rise from the sodden earth, leaves glistening beneath it.

The girl lifted her right hand, which bore a ring on the middle finger. It was bestowed with hair-raising ornamentation, modeled after some beast or spirit of evil, and was inlaid with a small, black gemstone.

“Kingdom of the Abandoned!” she chanted, practically howling. “The winds turn to favor the drifters and the lost! May the curtain of twilight fall upon those who proclaim us evil! What a harsh path lies ahead!”

A fearsome torrent of mana began to build around her. It was as if this small girl’s body possessed several dozen times more magical energy than a normal person.

The maelstrom of mana coalesced in the ring, and just as all seemed to calm down, a dark cloud rose from the black gemstone, breaking off and rising into the sky. It spread and spread until it had painted over the blue and flowed towards the east.

The girl huffed. “The Ring of Samigina... As long as I have this... Heh heh...heh...”

The boy folded his arms and frowned. “So in the end, we’re just being used...” he muttered.

○

It was lively in the city of Bordeaux. The rain had passed, and the puddles that remained reflected the blue sky as many people crossed over them: the farmers who came to sell produce and wild plants, the merchants of the south, the wandering tribes that played their songs in the alleys, the apprentices pulling wagons, and the children racing about.

After leaving the manor, Belgrieve and the girls ate lunch at a place Sasha recommended and then took a stroll along the avenue. Belgrieve asked Sasha if her work was all right, but it seemed she was not involved in the difficult talks. Even if she wanted to weigh in, such negotiations were beyond her understanding and her input would just cause more confusion—at least, that was what she proclaimed herself. Belgrieve wondered if that was really okay, but when he thought about it, he was also trying to steer clear of it all. This was because they both trusted Helvetica and Seren to handle the matter. The way Sasha could clearly discern and declare that she would be useless in that arena was part of her charm.

The girls walked boisterously a few steps ahead of him. Their hangovers had evidently died down, and in any case, the drinks had let Sasha open up to them.

“Hey, hey, Sasha. Are there any good sweet shops around here?”

“Indeed there are! Bordeaux grows good wheat, so the bakeries are divine.”

“Oh, I like the sound of that. Hey, let’s go to one then.”

Anessa grinned and placed a hand on Miriam’s shoulder. “Who was it that complained about being called fat?”

“Shut uuup! This is completely different!”

“Oh no, I find Merry’s chubbiness rather adorable! Please, stay just like that, by all means!”

“Ahhh, even Sasha! Waaah, Ange, everyone’s bullying me!”

“There, there... Now let’s go to the sweet shop. We’ll fatten her up a bit more...”

“Wh-What are you saying?!”

“Heh heh heh, just kidding... I want something sweet as well. Is that all right, dad?”

“Yeah, I don’t mind.”

Belgrieve felt he was being kept out of the loop, but he was taking on more of a chaperone role in any case, and didn’t really mind. It was enough that the girls were enjoying themselves.

After having their fill of the sort of sweetness it would be near impossible to taste in Turnera, they set out for the adventurers’ guild on Sasha’s recommendation. She wanted to introduce them to the guild master. Am I going to receive another overblown evaluation? Belgrieve was a little apprehensive about the idea, but couldn’t find any reason to turn her down, and so he ended up tagging along.

This too was a sturdy stone building. In Bordeaux, new developments were often made of wood, but the older constructions were all of stonework. Back when the land was first settled, they were made sturdy and long lasting.

The guild was brimming with energy, teeming with men and women of all ages coming and going, while others enjoyed friendly chats here and there. The adventurers were mixed in with merchants and craftsmen who had come to buy materials.

This takes me back, Belgrieve thought. He had once been a part of this ruckus. Even now that he had grown accustomed to the quiet life in Turnera, the memories of his mere two years of adventuring remained vivid in his mind.

There were adventurers here who had been in the pub the night before, and their group was soon surrounded by a cheering crowd.

“Oh! The S-Ranks are here!”

“Tell us how you slew the demon!”

“I want to ask the Red Ogre something! How do you raise an S-Rank adventurer?”

“Hey, why do you stay holed up in Turnera?”

“That’s such a waste! If you’re good enough for Sasha to call ‘Master,’ you’d make it to the top of Bordeaux’s guild in no time.”

Smiling wryly at the tempestuous barrage of questions, he followed Sasha through a door behind the counter. While the adventurers continued making noise about it, they were held back by the receptionist lady.

Belgrieve sighed as they ascended the stairs. “Well, I’ll be... My name’s taken on a life of its own.”

“Hmm? What are you saying, Master?”

“Just talking to myself... Also, Sasha, you don’t have to call me ‘Master.’”

“Guild master! Are you here?”

Sasha threw open the door at the end of the stairs. It opened into a vast study, with a sofa and a six-seater table in the front—perhaps to receive guests. There was an office desk in the back, tidily piled with numerous documents.

Behind the desk, there sat an old man. He was perhaps in his early sixties. His long white hair was bundled at the back, and while the creases in his face were deep and his eyes were misted by the sort of gloom that only came to the elderly, he gave off a terribly gentle impression. Sasha brazenly made her way over and placed a hand on the desk.

“I apologize for interrupting your work. There is someone I must introduce to you by all means!”

The guild master smiled at her. “Yes, everyone’s whispering about it, Sasha. The Black-Haired Valkyrie Angeline and her party, as well as the Red Ogre Belgrieve, correct?”

Sasha introduced everyone with a proud smile on her face. “This is Angeline, the Black-Haired Valkyrie. Over here, we have her party members Anessa and Miriam. This man is the Red Ogre I told you about. And everyone, this is the guild master of Bordeaux, Elmore!”

They each nodded as Sasha mentioned their names. The guild master slowly stood, and gave a courteous bow of his head in return.

“I am Elmore. I do my best to manage the adventurers’ guild in Bordeaux. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“We’re greatly obliged. And, about barging in so rudely out of nowhere...”

“Oh, no, I wasn’t working on anything important.”

With the same gentle smile, Elmore ushered the five of them to the guest sofa.

As she sat down, Angeline said, “Very upstanding, Mr. Elmore... Completely different from our guild master in Orphen.”

“Hey, don’t say that...” Anessa said with a chuckle. Certainly, Orphen’s guild master’s office wasn’t so tidy, and Lionel didn’t have a shred of dignity.

Elmore took a bottle of mint water from the shelf. “Lionel is doing his best. I think he did a very good job at handling that mass outbreak of fiends without any assistance from the other guilds. We would have sent reinforcements, but we do not have any S-Rank adventurers in Bordeaux...”

Taking a sip of the liquid poured into her glass, Angeline asked, “What rank were you, Mr. Elmore...?”

“I was AA-Rank. That was as far as my adventuring talent would take me, but I had a surprising knack for desk work, you see. It’s been twenty years since I’ve taken the position.”

“Hmm... According to our guild master, it’s a do-nothing job for incompetents... Is that true?”

“Hey, Ange, you’re being rude,” Belgrieve hurriedly reprimanded her.

However, Elmore laughed pleasantly, not the least bit offended. “Yes, yes, I understand completely. At present, nearly all guild masters are mere figureheads. They stand between the central guild and their own guild and exist to receive the complaints of both. However, the situation is a little different in Bordeaux.”

Sasha leaned in. “Bordeaux’s guild has always had connections to the lord. Pedigreed nobles from the capital generally scorn adventurers, but the House of Bordeaux has always been quite close to the adventuring trade.”

“Yes. And that is precisely why our guild has a role in the city’s defenses. Lords usually despise the mere thought of issuing requests to adventurers. It takes money, and they have their own honor to consider.”

“All absurd,” Sasha said, frowning.

Elmore smiled. “But Bordeaux is different. The family made a proper contract with the guild from the start, establishing a system where their soldiers work together with adventurers to deal with fiends and other abnormalities. Because of this, my position is similar to that of a commanding officer. Since the system here is different, I do have a little more work than the other guild masters, but I find it very fulfilling.”

Belgrieve was impressed. Back when he was an adventurer, it was normal for town soldiers to be on terrible terms with adventurers. Here, they worked together, with the younger sister of the countess working as an active adventurer.

However, at the same time, he could see this harming their reputation as nobles. Perhaps the nobles who they had connections with for generations would be fine, but the ones who moved from the central regions would have a hard time putting up with Bordeaux when they deepened their bonds with adventurers—practically the bottom rung of the societal ladder. This is probably one of the reasons they’re hindering the road maintenance, Belgrieve mused with a furrowed brow. He could never bring himself to understand the world of nobility.

As they were chatting, the sky outside the window suddenly turned dark, and as there hadn’t been any candles lit, the room was pitched into darkness as well. Elmore cocked his head curiously, stood, and walked over. For a moment, he thought the sun was setting, only to see the sky covered in thick clouds.

“That’s peculiar. It was clear a moment ago...”

Miriam rushed over with a frown. She looked out, narrowing her eyes. “Real strange... I can sense some incredibly distorted mana.”

Angeline’s brow twitched. “I feel a prickling sensation... I have a bad feeling about this.”

An adventurer burst into the room. “Guild master! Big trouble! There’s a mass outbreak of undead from the graveyard!”

“What? How could this be...” Elmore knit his brow. “How many of them?”

“More than a hundred. Everyone who was available is holding them back, but there’s no end in sight.”

“Understood, we’ll have the soldiers on the case as well. Sasha?”

“Loud and clear! I’ll get to it at once! Pardon me!”

Sasha took off like the wind, and Angeline stood as well.

“I’ll help...”

“Oh, that’s... Are you sure?”

“It will be a good warm-up before we return to Orphen...”

“I’ve gotta regain my senses. Else, they’ll say I’m slacking off.”

“Been a while since I went on a rampage.”

They weren’t wearing their usual adventuring equipment, but even when going out to have fun, they always carried their weapons. This was an adventurer’s habit.

Elmore looked relieved. “I couldn’t ask for more... I’ll go to the church and ask them to put up a barrier. Can I ask you to investigate the graveyard?”

“Leave it to me.” Angeline looked at Belgrieve. “You too, right...dad?”

“How could I say no?”

I just hope I won’t get in the way. But he kept that to himself—excuses were useless on the battlefield. He could only give it his all. Angeline was delighted to fight alongside her father, and she grew visibly motivated.

It was dark out, and it looked like the rain would come again.