Chapter 10 …

 Such a Tempting Easy Mark

From the outside, it looked like nothing more than a tiny shack, but this house actually had three whole rooms.
Of course, they were all extremely small.

The only reason that was possible was because several magical enchantments had been placed on the building.

If it had needed to stay warm with a single brazier like an ordinary farmhouse, then naturally everyone would have had to sleep in the same space.

But because it was a temple, there were tiny private rooms intended for ascetics.

Still, considering there were only three rooms, it was obvious this place had never originally been built for more than three people.

Before each of us retired to our rooms, the three of us sat together drinking hot water brewed with herb leaves we had just extorted from the visitor.

Personally, I had no desire whatsoever to drink tea with the visitor, but Pythia truly loved people.

Just as she had begun thinking of me as her daughter after only one week, she was now treating a man she had known for less than three hours as though he were some close relative, kindly listening to his recent troubles and complaints.

Ahh, this kind of meddlesomeness is not good.

While Pythia listened to his whining, I quietly glanced at the object he had brought out.

So this was supposedly an item that had come from Gerka’s temple.

But wait—did Status work on objects too, perhaps?

It was pure curiosity.

I summoned the Status window.

Honestly, I hadn’t expected it to work, but the artifact’s status immediately appeared.

[ A Portion of the Armrest of the “Chair of Pain” ]

And beneath it, the ownership history appeared in a long list.

The very first owner was “The First Saintess.”

Wow, this thing really is ancient. If it belonged to the First Saintess, then was it that “Saintess beloved by all gods,” the one whose name had been lost to history?

Then this wasn’t necessarily an artifact from Gerka’s temple at all.

The ownership history was absolutely insane.

What was I supposed to do with records stretching back a thousand years?

After staring for a long while, I finally found the most recent owner’s name.

It was this visitor.

And then, the owner before him was a surprisingly familiar name.

If I tell him this… maybe I can squeeze almost everything in that backpack out of him.

So far we had only taken his food.

But when he unpacked things earlier, I’d noticed plenty of blankets, clothes, and fabrics. There also seemed to be a few magical items.

Most tempting of all was the portable brazier.

I had no idea why he carried one around, but this house only had a single brazier. I felt like we could stand to have one more.

And the backpack itself was tempting too.

Haaah… should I tell him and take the entire backpack in exchange?

I had arrived here carrying proper suitcases like a refined young lady.

I desperately wanted a backpack I could sling over my shoulders.

After exploring around for a week, I’d already found quite a few herbs that could be used as substitutes for spices.

“Visitor.”

Good. I’ve decided.

If there’s something I want, then I should take it.

“Hm?”
“Just now, Lord Gerka bestowed a revelation upon me regarding this object.”
“Wh—what?”

Wow. You’re being that openly distrustful?

I mean, yes, it’s a lie, but still.

And the distrust wasn’t coming from only the visitor.

Beside him, Pythia’s eyes widened dramatically.

But you didn’t receive any revelation, her expression clearly said.

I ignored her with ease.

Why wouldn’t I have received one?

Gerka did tell me. That means it’s a revelation. What else would you call it?

“This object… it’s the armrest of a certain chair, isn’t it?”

The moment I said that, the man shot to his feet.

Aha. So he already knew it was an armrest.

From the outside, it looked like nothing more than a fragment, so unless someone knew exactly what it was, there was no way they could identify it as an “armrest.”

He stared down at me with a No way… expression.

Now then, what did this situation require?

Acting skills.

I lightly clasped my hands atop the table, looked up at him, and gave him a benevolent smile.

“The Chair of Pain, correct?”
“Did—did Lord Gerka truly give you a revelation?”

What irreverent suspicion.

Wearing a solemn expression, I answered quietly,

“Though I am still inadequate and could only hear fragments of the revelation, He did tell me of the first owner and the most recent owners. The first owner was ‘The First Saintess.’ And among the people who possessed it before you, Visitor, there is one former owner who may be able to help you greatly.”

The visitor swallowed hard.

“T-that owner is…?”

At that exact moment, I slowly shifted my gaze.

The other two unconsciously followed my line of sight.

The moment they realized I was staring directly at the visitor’s large backpack, Pythia jumped up with a startled,

“Ah—ah, n-no—!”

So she did have some sense of shame after all.

Unexpected. And unnecessary.

Flailing both hands, she desperately tried to explain that we were not robbers.

But the visitor ignored Pythia entirely, rushed over, and slammed the entire backpack onto the table.

“I offer this to Lord Gerka!”
“The backpack too?”

Let’s make this perfectly clear.

The backpack was important to me too.

“The backpack too! Everything in it!”

Oh, thank you very much, valued customer.

Now then, the name of the owner you purchased is—

“Isabel Confino.”

For a moment, the visitor said nothing.

Then, very cautiously, he asked,

“You mean Confino… the Master of the Mage Tower?”
“Yes. That very person.”

I was certain.

Because the ownership list had specifically written:

“Isabel Confino of the Eternal Flame.”

When mages reach a certain level, they receive titles.

Apparently, the Status system treated those titles as part of their names.

After all, someone might not know whether the Mage Tower Master’s personal name was Isabel or Elizabeth, but there was no way they wouldn’t recognize “Eternal Flame.”

In some ways, titles were even more famous than actual names.

“She… was a former owner of this artifact?”
“Well, one of the former owners, it seems.”
“Ahh, I see. Then she would certainly be able to answer the questions I have about this object clearly. Thank you. I’m truly glad I came here. Honestly, I thought this was excessive—even for robbers….”

Hey.

No matter how much of a scholar you are, you’re still a commoner. Aren’t you being a little too honest?

What exactly are you saying in front of a princess and a future countess?

“Ahhh, this must all be Lord Gerka’s guidance. The God of Wisdom has not abandoned me!”

The thing I still couldn’t adapt to most after coming to this world was people’s excessive acting.

Like this visitor dramatically pointing both hands toward the heavens while going “Oooooh.”

But Pythia was even worse.

Falling to her knees and clasping both hands together, she cried,

“Ahh, Lord Gerka. You have sent me a disciple to care for this incompetent daughter of Yours. Ahh, tears cloud my vision. From now on as well, I shall obey Lord Gerka forever, forever, and swear eternal devotion to Him!”

She practically wailed her prayer of gratitude toward Gerka.

What the hell?

Just moments ago you were looking at me like You’re going to get struck by lightning for this!

I was dumbfounded.

I truly could not keep up with the emotional mood swings of people in this world.

Unable to sympathize in the slightest, I simply stood and went into my room.

Naturally, I brought the visitor’s backpack with me.

Even if they were crying and praying like this now, who knew whether they might regret it later?

People’s feelings always changed between entering and leaving.

As expected, I was right.

The next morning, this ungrateful visitor began cautiously complaining to me.

“Still… taking the entire backpack is a little….”

Haah.

Customer, this behavior is unacceptable.

A verbal contract is still a contract, and more importantly, this world doesn’t even have a consumer protection agency, so what exactly are you trying to pull here?

I pulled back the breakfast I had been about to serve him—plate and all—and asked,

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

Do you perhaps wish to descend the mountain on an empty stomach?

My face must have said exactly that.

The man immediately changed his tune.

“N-no, I merely meant that compared to what I received, my offering was far too meager, and I feel deeply apologetic. Truly, once again, for informing me of Lord Gerka’s revelation—”
“Then send more.”

If you feel apologetic, then simply send more.

What exactly is the problem?

Beside me, Pythia looked ready to leap to her feet again.

But I gently pressed down on her shoulder and seated her back down.

“Head Priestess, you’ll spill your soup.”
“Ah—no, ah, I’m sorry. No, thank you. No, I mean—”
“Please remain seated.”

Stay seated.

Are you planning to survive forever by miserably gnawing on black bread?

Even if you think that’s acceptable, I absolutely do not, and since you live with me now, I refuse to watch you live that way either, so sit down.

I had no idea how much of that was written on my face.

But after hesitating, Pythia finally sat back down.

The visitor’s lips trembled as he looked at me.

“Th-that… would probably be best, yes…?”
“I personally don’t mind, but you said you felt apologetic.”
“Ah, well, if you’re fine with it, then perhaps I’m also fine with it—”
“So you were speaking falsehoods within Lord Gerka’s temple? Especially regarding offerings?”

The visitor opened and closed his mouth.

After floundering like a fish for a while, he finally muttered,

“As if I would ever….”

And surrendered.

Delighted, I obtained his promise in writing and personally saw him off as he departed.

Ahh, I hope another easy mark like that stumbles in here someday.

Though that might be difficult.

Jean Corce sniffled as he cautiously drank warm milk.

After having his backpack stolen by robbers hiding behind the name of a god, he had been forced to descend the mountain without anything to eat.

Even surviving the journey had been a miracle.

He encountered no bandits, and travelers he passed along the way had even shared water with him.

Otherwise, he might have collapsed halfway down the mountain and died there.

Perhaps it truly was Gerka’s arrangement.

To descend such a high mountain alone yet encounter only kind people—it was difficult for Jean to think of it as anything other than divine protection.

In reality, however, the path he had taken was the very same route the knights of House Danyer had descended several days earlier.

As they traveled, the knights had eliminated the nearby bandits.

And because the locals knew this, many people had begun using the route again.

So it had absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with divine protection.

But Jean had no choice except to think that way.

To think the name Confino would appear there.

There should have been only two people in the world who knew that this artifact had belonged to Isabel Confino and was now in his possession.

The disciple who stole it from Isabel Confino.

And himself, the man who bought it.

There should have been no one else.

Yet somehow, the name had emerged in a temple atop a mountain.

A revelation? A revelation?

He had definitely heard that only a single saintess lived at that temple.

So where had that “disciple”—especially one who looked like a noble young lady—suddenly appeared from?

I need to investigate this.

A cold light flashed through Jean’s eyes.