25 - Make Dark Fantasy Great Again

From the carriage, there came news of the young lady's recovery. Risir had no idea who this young lady was. However, it was clear to him that she was a particularly significant person to the man standing before him. The moment they heard news of her improving condition from inside the carriage, the sharp tension surrounding the man immediately dissipated. The man cast one glance at Risir's group before urgently returning to the carriage. "Whew..." Left among his companions, Risir let out a deep sigh. He realized that he had been unconsciously holding his breath. This was due to the pressure emanated by the man. It was akin to facing an agitated predator. Tap, tap. Beside him, Fienne touched Risir’s arm. "Let's go." With a serious expression, she urged him to leave quickly. Fienne had also felt the pressure from the man just now. She sensed it more clearly, given her higher level than Risir. ‘Rank Five. At the very least.’ A strong power paired with an unstable mental state. An ill-fated choice for a travel companion. "Wait... Hah... It seems like something good happened... Hah... How about we wait and ask again later..." At that moment, Rona interjected into the conversation. Rona's tone was rather peculiar. As if a woman was clumsily imitating a man's voice. Her actions were the same. Suddenly rolling up her sleeves to show off her wrists, taking exaggerated steps, and casually sweeping back her sweat-drenched bangs. Ever since becoming a slave, Rona had been trying excessively hard to act like a man. Almost as if she was denying the fact that she had become a woman herself. Of course, she hadn’t become as adept as she hoped. "Hah... Hah..." "Are you alright, Rona? If it's too hard, just let it go." Despite Fienne and Risir's protests, Rona insisted on carrying their burdens. And she proclaimed. That she could keep up just fine and there was no need to adjust the pace for her. The sweat running like rain and her breath laboring like a death rattle revealed the truth. Her exposed wrists were thin and trembled like aspen leaves. "Not— Not tired...! Hah—" Rona was clearly putting on a bravado. "Not tired? Then why, when you saw the carriage, did you mutter 'I'm saved...' Why did you look like you were about to cry when Fienne suggested just leaving?" "Th-That never happened!" "Really? Was it my imagination? Then if Fienne says to just leave, and you say to just leave, maybe we should just leave. But wait. Can we really treat a slave's vote as equal to Fienne's?" "...Y-You're right! If my master absolutely insists that we should ride that carriage, as a slave, I would have no choice but to follow!!!" Ah. Beside them, Fienne let out a sigh at their conversation. "Why am I traveling with these fools? Risir. Leave playing with the slave for later, for now, let's just get going. I have a bad feeling about that person earlier." "Fienne, I've gained one realization recently, do you know what that is? You shouldn't judge a person solely by their first impression. A helpless girl... A seemingly charming young man..." "..." "..." Unable to counter, the mind-controlling failures pouted discontentedly. "So, your logic is, just because someone who made a good first impression turned out to be trash, someone who seemed bad at first might actually be a good person?" "What I mean is, let's not overreact. Why would someone with a carriage like that bother harming passersby? Like Rona said, if they come out again, we can just ask if they could give us a ride. Besides, why is Fienne trash? If anyone's trash, it's Rona. Isn't that right, Rona?" "...Do I have to answer?" "No matter what anyone says, I think Fienne is a good person. So don't blame yourself too much. That's enough for Rona to do. Right, Rona?" "...Y-Yes." "Alright, enough already." Fienne was annoyed by the fact that Risir's nonsense had actually lifted her mood. How much time passed thereafter? The man emerged from the carriage once more. This time, he approached Risir's group with calm, composed steps. "I apologize for the late introduction. I am Dares of the Durayeg family." Durayeg. Risir repeated the name to himself. For nobles, one of their basic skills is to memorize the names of noble families. To grovel before those of higher status and disregard those of lower status. In other words, it was a task of the utmost importance for nobles. To Risir, who was beneath nobility and often ignored, such matters were of another world, but nevertheless, he had kept a mental list of names from various noble families. Amongst those names, Durayeg was recorded prominently near the top. And it likely was the same for most noble families. Durayeg was among the top echelon of high-ranking nobles. "I apologize for my earlier behavior. My fiancée experienced a sudden health decline during the night, causing me to react sensitively." “My condolences. Is your fiancée feeling better now?" As Risir spoke, Fienne and Rona's expressions twisted dramatically. Who is this person? Risir, attempting to offer the appropriate treatment befitting Dares' status, did so with utmost courtesy. His shifted tone and demeanor. An authentic air of nobility naturally exuded from him. “...If I may ask, from which family do you hail?” Dares himself seemed surprised, asking belatedly about Risir's origins. "My apologies for the late introduction. I am an illegitimate son of the Risir- family. Feel free to treat me informally." “…" Dares' eyes widened. He had anticipated someone from a high-ranking family, but an illegitimate son? Dares, with a look of genuine surprise, continued the conversation. "Let's get to the point, Risir. If you have a request, could you state it once more?" "I was hoping to request passage if there was any room left in the carriage—" Risir trailed off, gauging Dares' response. His hesitation came from being mindful of the "ailing fiancée" Dares had mentioned earlier. Risir couldn't help but suspect that Dares' next words might be a refusal. He didn't show it outwardly, but internally, Risir felt a significant sense of disappointment. 'If I miss this chance, how much longer will it take to reach Bondales-' His mind was preoccupied with the potion left in his pocket and the halted state of his magical training. He was itching with the thought of wasting time meaninglessly. Hmm. At that moment, Dares let out a sigh. "Well, it's just that my fiancée mentioned that if your group needs assistance, she'd like us to offer help." Three choices flashed before Risir. Expressing open gratitude. Asking for the reason. And— "...She seems like a compassionate person." By praising the fiancée, who was obviously dear to Dares, Risir seemed to hit the mark, slightly softening Dares' previously displeased expression. "You've put it well. She's a woman with almost too much kindness. So, what do you say? Would you humor my fiancée's whim?" "I would be grateful for the generosity." It was both the whim of the fiancée and of Dares himself. Dares, who had initially intended to send them away, now guided Risir and his companions to the carriage. As they walked, Risir introduced his companions to him. "This is my companion, Fienne. And this—my... slave, Rona." "..." Dares' gaze settled on Rona, and his expression twisted slightly. "A slave who seems unsuited for heavy labor." It was because Rona, who appeared to be an ordinarily frail woman, was dripping with sweat as she carried two people's worth of luggage. "If you'd permit, could I ask how you ended up assigning such tasks to that slave?" A tint of disappointment crept onto Dares' face. "She had attempted to harm myself and my companions by—feeding us a drug. She even tried to drug and assault me." "...?" "After paying for her crime, she opted to serve as a slave. Even the luggage, which I insisted she needn't carry, she's taken by force." Dares looked at Rona, stupefied. “...” Rona could only hang her head in shame, her body trembling. “Ahem. Consider that not heard. Everyone, please follow me inside." Dares led them into the carriage. Inside the roofed carriage, there seemed to be some magical apparatus in place, making it more spacious than it appeared from outside. Though it already carried four people inside, there was ample room for four more. At the deepest seat in the carriage, a woman sat with a blanket draped over her shoulders. "Let me introduce you, my fiancée, Todina." Her skin and hair appeared dry, and dark circles hung heavy under her eyes. Yet, Todina greeted Risir’s party with a bright smile. "Hello, everyone. I assume Dares startled you, right? I was so worried when he burst out of the carriage with such a fearful expression. I should have tried to stop him—but alas, my coughing wouldn't cease then." Mmm. Dares sighed next to her but didn't stop Todina. "Miss Todina, I've heard from Sir Dares. I sincerely thank you for your generous hospitality." "Hoho. Thank Dares, not me. I'm merely stubborn, and he always gives in to me. Oh, my, where are my manners. This is Damin, a dear child who always looks after me." The brown-haired maid seated next to Todina bowed gracefully. "And here is Sir Topin, who has come a long way at Dares' request, to help with my care." An elderly man with graying hair nodded lightly. "I'm Topin. I research healing magic at the Bloom School. And this is my assistant, Eltine—" "I'm Risir." Risir introduced himself and his companions once more. Just then, Todina clamped a fist over her mouth. Her body shook as she let out a series of jerky coughs. "Miss." "...Thank you." Damin offered Todina a warm glass of water. As she drank, Todina's coughing intensified. After more than ten ragged coughs, Todina composed herself, drawing breath through parched lips. It sounded like an old man's final breaths, the kind of sound that could hardly be described as pleasant. The atmosphere within the carriage fell silent in an instant. Just as silence was about to descend, Topin spoke up. "Todina." "Yes, Mr. Topin." "As your soon-to-be personal physician tasked with aiding your recovery, I must say, welcoming me with such poor health was hardly wise. Aren't you lacking a bit in self-awareness?" "..." Todina's expression twisted in bitter regret. "I'm sorry. I've been cooped up inside for so long, I was desperate to see the outside world." "I dragged her out against her will, so don't blame Todina." "No, Dares. You merely granted my request. If I'd have listened to you, I wouldn't have troubled others..." Just as the conversation reached this point. "Did you say Risir?" Topin turned his gaze to Risir. When Risir revealed himself as an illegitimate offspring without a family name, Topin noticeably showed his discomfort. To have a bastard among them. He continued in an authoritative tone. "As you can see, my patient needs absolute rest. This carriage has no room to accommodate any more concerns. I assume you've understood by now?" Topin gestured toward the carriage door. "Mr. Topin...!" "Todina. As your physician, I expect my opinion to be deferred to entirely." "..." Todina closed her eyes tightly. "I'm sorry... Mr. Risir... because of me, you're in such a difficult situation..." Topin gestured towards the door once again, this time more irritably. "Perhaps," Risir began after much deliberation, "I might be able to help Miss Todina." Tsk. Topin clicked his tongue. "Risir. Please refrain from making irresponsible statements in front of my patient." "..." "Or perhaps you'd care to explain? Just what could you possibly know? What have you managed to discern in such a brief moment? Numerous healers have pooled their knowledge over the past months to aid Todina. Renowned healers, each striving to uncover what precisely afflicts her. Yet none of them succeeded. But you, are you claiming to know better? Who are you?" Topin took a breath to calm himself before continuing in a cold tone. "I got a bit carried away, my apologies. It's not ideal. Risir, for my patient's sake, I need to maintain an optimal state—both personally and in my surroundings. So, please take your leave." Risir didn't criticize Topin's conduct as insulting. He was merely doing his utmost from his own standpoint. Ignoring him as an illegitimate child—a notion Risir ascribed to being a noble's prerogative. Risir's focus wasn’t on that; it was instead on something else. The sense of dissonance emanating from Todina. His experience-backed intuition urged him to inspect that dissonance more closely. 'If only I could get a single chance...' Initially, he intended to use the pretext of a diagnosis to assess Todina's condition. But it seemed that such an act was utterly impermissible from the standpoint of a professional healer. So then, what options remained? How to come closer to Todina. Reveal his native color? No. How could he assertively disclose his native color, something even he hadn't fully grasped? Furthermore, if he pushed a complex issue like native color now, Topin would likely perceive it as another challenge to his authority and react with aversion. "..." In the end, Risir pulled a coin from his pocket. It was an ordinary coin, holding no special significance. "Miss Todina. This is my lucky talisman." "A lucky...talisman?" "Yes. This charm's unique power has helped me survive several dangerous situations. Miss Todina, would you be willing to accept this talisman?" As he spoke, Risir internally chided himself. 'Was this really the best option?' It was a hastily constructed, flimsy plan and backstory. "A lucky talisman?" Thankfully, though she might have found it abrupt, Todina didn't find it strange. She glanced towards Topin. He reluctantly nodded in assent. "Will I end up taking away Risir's luck?" "I'm so lucky that losing a bit wouldn't matter." "...Risir, you’re very kind. Despite encountering such difficulties because of me... I should turn this down, but—" Todina gently clasped Risir's hand, holding the coin. "I find myself greedy... Truly... It'd be wonderful if that luck found its way to me..." In that instant, Risir focused all his concentration. On Todina’s hand. On the dissonance he sensed from her. “Huhhh!” At that moment, the maid, Damin, seated beside Todina, convulsed in agony. All eyes turned in her direction. In place of the young maid who had been greeting everyone with warmth, sat an old man clad in a maid's outfit. It was the moment that the dark magician's months-long plans unraveled miserably. "How!!!" The dark magician struggled to fathom the incomprehensible phenomenon that had engulfed him. "..." "..." Fienne and Rona were uncomfortable with the sense of commonality they felt towards the loathsome old man.