Home Visit (6)

Who killed whom? What does all of this mean?

In the dark, narrow tunnel, I hurriedly turned my head toward Leonardo, only to bump my forehead. Ouch.

It was so dark that I couldn't see my way properly. As Leonardo rubbed my forehead with his hand to check, I urgently grabbed his shoulders and shook him.

'What comes next? What happens next!'

「The conversation has stopped. It seems the Count has fallen into deep thought… Your forehead is turning red.」

'Is that what matters right now? Even after seeing the dark depths of this family, my forehead is the priority?'

「Ah.」

What does he mean by 'ah'?

I poked his cheek in annoyance and fell into thought. I had believed that King Godric was responsible for the Countess' death, but it turned out that the one who killed her was the Count himself, as revealed in his own confession.

If this were a courtroom or an interrogation room, emotions would not be admissible as evidence. However, fortunately in stories, sometimes emotions are everything.

Even though Leonardo was the one recounting the words, which diminished the Count's heightened emotions significantly, I couldn't shake the thought that he might have killed the Countess out of malice. It was clear that the claim about the Countess' death was certainly a lie.

This revelation came after learning that Leonardo Ertinez was neither a drunkard nor particularly reckless, uncovering another layer of truth. What other lies might there be?

At that moment, Leonardo lightly tapped my ear and whispered again.

「The Count seems to suspect how we came to know about his plans. He'll instruct the people in the castle to refrain from speaking with us for the time being.」

'What! Are we being ostracized now?'

「Ostracized…? Ah, the topic has changed. It's about the monster.」

Count Ertinez and Baron Roald expressed concerns over the recent increase in monster activity, noting that it had become as active as it was ten years ago. While they acknowledged that 'that' was a problem, they also seemed burdened by the need to confront the monster simultaneously.

「They're discussing whether it would be alright to assign the young count to hunt the monsters near the castle walls.」

We continued to listen quietly, but they didn't speak further about the plans or the affairs within the Ertinez family. 

After Baron Roald left, the Count sat quietly alone for a moment before departing, marking the end of this scenario.

[Sub-quest Clear!: Exploring the Underground Tunnels of Lilium Fortress (1/1)]

[Clear Conditions Achieved!]

['Scenario Note #014' has been successfully completed. There are "8 hours and 50 minutes" remaining until the next scenario note assignment.]

It ends, leaving only a sense of unease. Due to the narrowness of the tunnel, I turned my body and took the lead this time. The narrow and complex paths were already recorded on the map, allowing me to proceed without hesitation.

The original Leonardo said that his relationship with the Count had soured since the Countess' funeral… Did he perhaps know about it?

The crime of murder that the Count confessed by himself. Initially, I can't recklessly draw conclusions due to the lack of context about why he killed her. I recall the letter I found in the southern tower.

The carefully pressed flowers, the note from the Count with the shape of the flowers still intact, his courteous tone when speaking to his wife, and the soft demeanour that emerged when he pronounced 'Veronica.' Such a special way of handling a person's name, treating it with affection beyond mere identification… 

That cannot be a lie. Both Celestina and the original Leonardo agreed that the premise of 'the Count loved his wife' is true. And I know how to distinguish between feigned love and genuine love. I've made that distinction before. Just like the two people in a certain videotape.

"Isaac."

A calm voice from behind stopped me in my tracks.

"That's not the way."

Lost too deeply in thought, I was about to take a wrong turn, but Leonardo redirected me onto the right path. As I peeked my head out, Leonardo's bedroom came into view again. I sagged a bit and sat on the couch at the foot of the bed, feeling overwhelmed by the events of just today.

In the morning, Ferdinand visited, and in the late morning, I rummaged through Leonardo's room, had tea time with Celestina, tilled the fields, went to the gambling den, searched the southern tower, and then got a sudden visit from Count Ertinez.

Ugh, I groaned as I leaned back. As my back touched the blanket, fatigue washed over me, leaving me feeling stiff. Thinking back, I realized I had met all the Ertinez family members in just one day: Ferdinand, Celestina, Count Ertinez, and the original Leonardo.

'This family is a bit exhausting…'

"Is this how families are?"

Muttering my complaint, Leonardo shrugged lightly as if he had no idea. Honestly, I didn't know either, so I just gave a vague smile.

"I thought King Godric was the cause of the Countess' death. It didn't seem like the Count's love was a lie… If the reason for planning the coup was revenge for his wife, that would make sense."

"The king could be the cause. It might just be that the Count was the one who took her last breath, which made him label himself as a murderer. Or he might be blaming himself for something only tangentially related. Knights often think that way."

"What do you mean?"

He approached and sat down on one side of the bed. The mattress, already not very thick, sank further under Leonardo's weight, causing me to roll slightly toward him. Leonardo began to speak quietly.

"Sometimes, you witness a comrade being consumed and transformed right before your eyes on the battlefield. It is a knight's duty to end its life immediately afterward."

"Hmm."

I think of the battlefield where Leovald must have fought. The front lines of struggle, those malformed creatures desperately trying to take on human form, the grotesque imitations, and the human masses that ultimately get swallowed by them.

"When such events occur, many refer to themselves as murderers."

Leonardo carefully removed his gloves, part of his dark attire, and neatly placed them on the bedside table. Then, he gently placed my hand, which lacked the strength to even move a finger, atop his. He began to peel off the gloves, starting with each of my fingers.

"The comrades or brothers and sisters they once knew are dead the moment they are devoured on the battlefield. What they kill afterward is a monster that retains the appearance, personality, and memories of their fallen comrades, and yet they burden themselves with guilt for killing their own."

It transforms into the one it has consumed. Some victims may not even realize they have been devoured. They claim that they simply felt intense pain and then, when they opened their eyes again, their bodies were completely healed, and they assert nonchalantly that they are simply hungry.

'It feels like being reborn,' Count Bermont, who was devoured by it in Sinistra, said that.

Given that you have to slay such beings, it doesn't sound strange that knights believe they have killed a person rather than a monster. What impact does it have on a person to kill someone who was once a comrade, someone they shared meals with and lived in the barracks alongside?

"So, it's best not to place too much trust in the Count's feelings of guilt. Those who have been in positions of power for too long often think that way," Leonardo said calmly.

"Some carry out their duties without any sense of guilt, while others, overly conscious of their role as the one wielding power, look to assign responsibility for everything. Until we fully understand the circumstances surrounding the Countess' murder, it's better not to rush to judgment about him."

As I listened to him, I suddenly glanced at Leonardo.

'Some of those transformed do not even realize they have been devoured and live on with the memories and body of the person they once were.'

In the moment he explained that sentence, I sensed a subtle contempt in Leonardo's tone. As I clenched and unclenched my now exposed bare hands, I turned his face towards me.

"And you?"

Leonardo was pulled along without resistance, blinking in confusion as if to ask what I meant.

"No, I've just been a bit worried lately. This isn't Sinistra; it's El Dante. And everyone calls you Leonardo."

Possession. Dwelling in someone else's body, called by another's name, relying on others' relationships, and living someone else's life.

Acting. Being called by someone else's name, uttering someone else's words, and portraying someone else's life.

I think they are quite similar. The more I consciously reflect on it, the more so it seems. And I've often heard that many who act become surrounded by the various personas they have portrayed, losing their own identity in the process. 

Being called by the name of the role I play rather than my own name in front of the public. I've never tasted success, nor can I imagine such a life, but I wonder if it could slowly erode the corner of my own identity, even if it brings me joy. If someone pours love on me, how can I discern whether it's directed at me or at the performance I put on? And what about Leonardo?

Since coming here, he has been acting the entire time. It's a performance I often mock as clumsy and rough, but still, he has to put in the effort to mimic another person. Isn't that painful for him?

At least the Leonardo I know is someone who walks the just path, a path that doesn't hide, and isn't built on lies.

"How are you accepting this situation?"

At that moment, the clouds outside parted, and moonlight streamed in, slowly revealing Leonardo's expression in the darkness. He looked down at me with a contemplative face. With a slightly taken aback expression, he leaned in closer. As his forehead almost touched mine, he bent his fingers and untied the knots of my mask, pulling the fabric away from my face.

"I know how it feels to be that."

Leonardo said quietly.

"It makes me nauseous."

His hand, which wasn't holding the mask, moved smoothly toward the opposite arm. I stopped his hand and rolled up the sleeve, revealing nail marks. I brushed my fingers over those impressions, like footprints scattered across a snowy landscape. It reminded me of the time when he, as 'Isaac,' walked alone through a snow-covered forest path. Were his footprints that small from a distance back then? 

He murmured as if he were lost.

"I'm stealing someone else's life."

"That's not it. Leonardo Ertinez agreed to this as well."

But I understood what he meant. It resembled what I felt. The guilt stemming from being a person built entirely on lies, having to remain silent and act so as not to give the characters any sense of alienation. My problems seem far from resolution. They might remain unsolvable until this play is over.

Then what about Leonardo's?

"Sometimes, I even doubt who I am."

I could say, 'You'll reclaim your body someday,' but I'm not the author of this story. It's difficult to promise something based solely on a nice-sounding possibility that may happen at some point. So, the only thing I can offer is this. I looked into his eyes and said,

"Then I'll remind you whenever you need it."

The physical form and name of Leovald are dead, and Leonardo Ertinez belongs to someone else. So, the current Leonardo cannot be either of them. But I know who Leo is right now, so I can be his witness.

"Right?"

As I playfully tapped his nose, Leonardo tilted his head. He gave a slight smile.

"Yes, everything you said is correct."