Reconnaissance (2)
'To offer people.'
Could it be a term for some kind of sacrifice?
As I repeatedly mulled over the fake Duke of Marchez' words, the first thing that came to mind was Godric.
Godric's method of controlling those creatures through submission, and the script of [Great Empire's Subjects] engraved on them, seemed to align somewhat with the current conversation.
However, what the nameless ones desire is not to bow beneath the king's feet but to have their own significance and role in the world of the story.
Would such beings truly want to bow to Godric first? I wondered, especially since it's the intermission, and their free will would be more awakened than ever.
Sub-writer 1 must be aware that he treats them merely as pawns.
The unanswered thoughts echoed in my mind. Why would they seek to make people offerings, what exactly are they trying to offer them to, and what do they gain from it?
'This isn't enough.'
The fake Duke hoped to let slip more information, but the atmosphere around the table had already become quite tense. It wasn't a good time to ask leading questions.
The landlord, with a stern expression, cautiously asked,
"If those creatures are capturing people… could they possibly come near the city?"
"I can't be sure. But they suddenly disappeared three days ago."
Ah, exactly since the incident with the tunnels.
Lopez, now feeling the unease, asked with a slightly anxious voice,
"Then does this mean there could be an ambush on the way to the Vernis Mountains?"
"How would I know? It seems you've made it through safely so far, so I'm sure you'll be able to avoid any danger ahead."
The fake Duke muttered sarcastically. However, Lopez didn't back down and, with a slightly defeated expression, turned to us.
"Then… wouldn't it be better if we all move together? If we travel in a group, they won't easily attack us, right?"
This guy… totally missed the point. The reason he's been able to move safely so far is because he's been far from the spotlight. Without knowing anything, Lopez, who was rushing toward the heart of the storm, where the protagonist and key characters were gathered, was like a moth flying into the flames.
"Hmm."
Meanwhile, the fake Duke, who had received this earnest suggestion, fell into a long silence as if contemplating. While observing him closely, suddenly a low, soft whisper settled into my ear, circling around my earlobe.
「His waiting for a signal.」
'Signal?'
Leonardo's hand, hidden beneath the table, gently supported my hand and traced an arrow with his fingers on my palm. The sensation tickled, and I slightly clenched my fist, glancing at the direction he had indicated.
The monocled man, silently picking at his food, pretended to yawn and lazily closed his one eye. Immediately after, the Duke of Marchez nodded.
"A companion, huh? That doesn't sound too bad. Lord Ertinez, what do you think?"
I leaned back casually in my chair, holding back a small laugh at the absurd scene unfolding before me.
This is basically a puppet show. Everyone, from the Duke to the Count, is just someone's puppet.
Well, I don't mind.
I quietly gave Leonardo instructions. He agreed to accompany. There was no reason to refuse.
[Viewing Information.]
Rank – Minor Character (Scenario weight: 19.0%)
Role – Duke of Marchez
Script – [The true Duke of Marchez, who succeeded the late Duke. He has a strong interest in studying monsters.]
[His aptitude as a researcher surpasses that of a noble, leading to frequent disputes with the late Duke, but he shares a strong bond as the only family member.]
[He harbours strong doubts about the death of the late Duke and decides to participate in the Leap Year Great Hunt.]
[Having lived in seclusion, his face is not well known, and he uses this to hide his true identity.]
Dialogue – None
'I might gain an ally.'
I expected that something similar to the tragedy of the House of Ertinez would have happened several times before, but seeing it with my own eyes still left a bitter taste.
At the same time, this question arises:
Since Sub-writer 1, Godric, is clearly also a writer, why does he seem to have no affection for the characters, unlike the other two writers? What is the reason behind trying to tear down the story, cutting, pushing away, and erasing the characters from the narrative?
'In targeting Leovald's corpse… I can guess there's a plan to take over his position by inhabiting the protagonist's body. But what about aiming for the
It's a story that has become useless and lost its path, yet it still holds influence over the world within the narrative. Could it be because of that?
Like how the belief in family is central to Ferdinand's life, or how Celestina, who seemed like a child suffering from somnambulism, found courage, or how Raul's determination was brought to the forefront.
But Godric wouldn't use the
I was vaguely lost in thoughts of Godric, only to snap back to reality when the fake Duke raised his glass.
"So, it's a temporary companionship, then."
Lopez hastily raised his glass too. After that, the conversation at the table was light and non-serious—mostly about how the three families would line up, where the carriages would be placed, and which roads to take.
While Leonardo and the fake Duke were discussing strategy efficiently, Lopez seemed to fumble. He must've felt pushed out of the conversation because he started rambling on about his own experiences. From when he received the title of Count of Bermont, to his journey, and other irrelevant self-praise.
The fake Duke seemed to ignore it, and Leonardo didn't pay much attention either, but I was paying close attention to every word exchanged.
'I'll use this when it's time to threaten them!'
This is all good groundwork, after all.
About two hours later, after the dinner banquet had ended, we returned to our rooms. After a long internal debate, Raul, who had eventually decided to share a room with us, was now sprawled in a chair, looking content, as if he had just eaten and was sitting comfortably in a warm spot.
Having eaten and drunk with the knights away from the high table, he seemed to have no worries at all.
Vittorio, with a curious look on his face, studied Raul's strange sitting posture, as if trying to understand how he was managing not to fall over.
I said something to encourage him to sit up straight, thinking it might be better in front of the child.
"If you eat and then lie down right away, you might end up like a cow."
"I've never heard that before. Can you curse people too? Like turning a mischievous little one into a frog or something?"
Raul threw me a suspicious glance. It seemed like he had never heard of such expressions in this world. Meanwhile, both Vittorio and Leonardo looked at me with slight curiosity, and I was taken aback.
"…I don't have such abilities."
"Ah."
What's he complaining about?
Well, considering how he's seen me take things in and out of places where they can't be seen, it's understandable that he'd be curious.
When it seemed like Leonardo was particularly bothered by something, I nudged him and asked if he wanted to try turning into a cow. The answer I got back was quite the spectacle.
"If you turned into a frog or a small bird… I think it'd be easier to carry you around."
"Huh?"
What on earth is he talking about?
While I was at a loss for words, Raul snickered and chimed in.
"Then you could just carry it around in your pocket."
Leonardo seemed to think about it for a moment, then calmly agreed.
"It'd be nice if I could carry it around. Though if it's too small, it might be difficult."
"Ha, haha… This is crazy."
Raul's laughter slowly faded, and then, suddenly, he shot up and poked his own eye, only to collapse onto the floor.
With his long limbs taking up most of the floor space, Vittorio muttered that he might step on him and then neatly arranged Raul's arms across his chest, laying him down like someone who had passed on.
Ugh. With four of us, things sure are lively.
"Stop joking around, anyway, we've eaten our fill, so how about a night walk?"
"A night walk?"
"Yeah, something like that."
***
At a late hour, Lopez was preparing to go to bed.
However, the straw mattress in the guest room, which was no better than a barn, was terribly uncomfortable. Also, the wine box he had carefully prepared for the king was slightly tilted, which bothered him.
Above all, he was in a foul mood because of the rude attitude of the Duke, who, aside from being fortunate enough to be born into a noble family, was nothing better than himself. His eyes wouldn't easily close.
He muttered quietly.
That young punk from the Count's family and the Duke, too. How dare they try to look down on me?
A sense of determination naturally rose within him. It hadn't been long since he officially inherited the title of Count of Bermont. The process of confirming the disappearance of Count Bermont and declaring his death had taken a long time, and there were still skeptical eyes around him.
But soon, things would change.
He would go to the Vernis Mountain range, meet the king—and just like his brother had done, win the king's favour and trust, and no one would dare look down on him. Lopez, feeling inwardly satisfied, stroked his beard and calmed his mind.
'Why not? There's no way I can't do it!'
He was confident. Hadn't he dealt with his arrogant and cruel brother fairly easily?
Of course, he had received some help during that process.
"Ugh."
At the thought of the masked visitors who arrived quietly in the dead of night, a chill ran down his spine. The events in Sinistra still haunted him like a nightmare. The sudden disappearance of his brother and the unpleasant things that had happened in Sinistra still made him shiver…
More than anything, near the final stages, he had done something almost like betrayal under his brother's pressure, which was still a source of concern. Lopez grew uneasy again but quickly reassured himself.
'Since then, I've avoided the Sinistra area and had no more contact. Those masked people must have perished along with my brother. Yeah, of course…'
Then, Lopez lay down on the uncomfortable bed, closing his eyes as he dreamed of the day he would stand tall as the Count.
The wind blew, and a slight chill ran through his toes.
'This is an old, dilapidated building, so of course the wind gets through.'
Lopez muttered as he pulled the blanket up over his head. But in an instant, a realization struck him.
'This room doesn't have any windows?'
At that moment, the voice he had often heard in his nightmares echoed in his ears.
"Well, looks like someone's living the good life?"
Lopez' breath stopped.