Chapter 22
Force (3)
“Please, mind your tongue. Even the truth has its proper time.”
“I understand, Father. I’ll be careful. Please calm down.”
Linda felt sorry, thinking she had ruined the rare chance of having dinner with her father.
In the quiet atmosphere, Linda finished her meal and poured her father a cup of herbal decoction that was good for the eyes.
“Um, Father, I have a request.”
“What is it?”
Sitting in his rocking chair, Nécamo took a sip of the steaming herbal water and asked.
“I need some money.”
“Money? How much?”
“Three gold coins.”
“Pfft!”
Nécamo sprayed out the water he had in his mouth, wiped his lips with the back of his hand, and stared at his daughter.
“Three gold coins? What do you need that much for? Don’t tell me you’ve gone from giving away treatments to throwing money around as well?”
“No, it’s not that.”
“Then what? What do you need it for?”
Linda hesitated and avoided her father’s gaze.
“If you don’t tell me, I can’t give it to you. Do you think gold coins grow on trees?”
“It’s for something important.”
“Then what is this important thing?”
Nécamo’s expression made it clear he would accept no evasions. In the end, Linda, who had been keeping her lips tightly shut, explained everything about her connection with Josh in the slums.
She needed her father’s money to buy a silver sword.
“So you’re saying that boy Josh discovered a dungeon?”
Nécamo leapt up from the rocking chair, excitement written all over his face.
A dungeon was a crack in the world left from ancient times—a place where recluses once dwelled.
The relics left behind there often led to unexpected fortune.
“If we investigate it, we might uncover the secret of the vial that healed Josh. Just think of it, Father—we could create a miraculous medicine.”
“Calm yourself, Linda. Calm down.”
Though Nécamo kept pacing around the room telling her not to get excited, he himself was sweating from his own excitement.
“A dungeon, eh, heh heh heh…”
He gave a foolish chuckle, but when Linda folded her arms and stared at him, he quickly composed his face.
“Where is it?”
“I don’t know yet. Only that it’s not far from Camieux.”
“You think you two can handle it alone? I’m going too.”
“Josh said it isn’t a large dungeon. It’s cave-like, and there’s only one undead monster inside. Please leave it to us, Father.”
“You’re underestimating the undead? Even one is dangerous.”
Linda thought her normally sluggish father would be more of a burden than help if he came along.
“Father, Josh is skilled in combat—especially with the sword. I saw it with my own eyes. With a silver blade, he has more than enough ability to handle a single undead. Please don’t worry too much.”
“I can’t send you into danger alone!”
“Father…”
“I’m going. That’s the condition for giving you three gold coins. And in return, I claim a share of whatever treasure is found inside. Understand?”
Linda, soft-hearted as she was, might give Josh most of the treasure or even distribute it all to the slums.
Nécamo wanted to prevent that.
Of course, he also wished to protect his daughter.
After some hesitation, Linda finally gave in to her father’s will.
What if Josh gets angry about this…?
Night had fallen deeply over Camieux, the bustling heart of Albern.
The once rowdy tavern streets were growing quiet, and the lights in the town dwindled quickly.
From the highest window of the lord’s manor, Blanzor watched in silence as darkness consumed Camieux, then lifted his gaze to the constellations.
The Emperor’s astrologer had once warned him of a grim future when he received the secret command to retrieve the Dragon’s Eye.
—Blanzor, you will not die until the night sky’s stars vanish from sight.
At the time, he had scoffed. Yet just as foretold, he had been cursed—unable to reach true death, wandering for hundreds of years.
The starlight grows weaker…
If the prophecy was true, then soon his curse would break, and his soul would finally be freed into death.
Turning from the window, Blanzor walked slowly toward the bed.
There lay the false Ian, drooling in his sleep.
Rude and reckless though he was, he alone could communicate with Blanzor in this world.
Rise, false Ian. The time has come. Wake!
Startled awake by Blanzor’s booming voice, Ian crawled out of bed and hastily pulled on his black clothes.
“Thanks for waking me. Because of that damned Treasurer, I can’t even sleep properly. Tonight I’ll make him bleed.”
With Blanzor’s aid, Ian slipped out of the manor at dawn using warp magic.
He didn’t travel long distances at once, but moved in short bursts instead—it saved stamina and gave him practice.
“Let’s see… how about trying it with that guy?”
A drunken man was staggering into an alley before slumping down to doze.
From a rooftop, Ian checked that no one was around, then warped to the man’s side.
Why aren’t you heading straight to the Treasurer’s house? What are you doing?
“I want to test something.”
Ian hoisted the drunkard up as if to support him, eyes fixed on the far end of the alley.
Warp.
As he focused and activated the spell, not only he—but the drunken man too—were transported some ten meters away.
Satisfied, Ian propped the man against the wall.
So it works again.
It drained far more energy than warping alone, but being able to take someone with him was significant.
“See that? I’m that kind of man.”
Childish fool.
Shrugging at Blanzor’s scolding, Ian darted westward toward the Treasurer’s residence.
The place stood out clearly among the houses: its towering stone walls looked like a fortress wall, and the surrounding homes had been torn down so no intruder could hide nearby.
“Thinks he’s a lord or something.”
From atop the wall, Ian watched the Treasurer’s guards patrol and realized how much power the man flaunted.
“Blanzor, go inside and scout. Where are the guards stationed? Which room is the Treasurer sleeping in?”
Blanzor was incredulous.
Are you giving me orders? To me?
“Please. If I go in blind and die, would that suit you?”
If Ian died, Blanzor would lose his only connection to the world—and any chance of finding the Dragon’s Eye.
Damn brat.
“Sorry, but there’s no other way right now. I need you.”
You could still turn back, you know.
“I can’t. Didn’t you see the Treasurer’s eyes earlier? With this tax dispute, it’s already war between us.
“If I don’t strike first tonight, he’ll come for me instead.”
After a pause, Blanzor rose into the air and drifted toward the Treasurer’s mansion.
But when he neared the walls, he turned back.
I can’t stray far from the dagger. We need to get inside first.
“Understood.”
Ian observed the guards’ movements carefully, waiting for the right moment to warp.
Scaling the wall would be nothing, really.
But just then, a carriage thundered down the stone-paved road and passed through the guarded gate, disappearing inside.
Who visits at this hour?
Normally he would be fast asleep by now, but the Treasurer sat alone, drinking.
“Why is everything unraveling all of a sudden…”
For years, he had enjoyed uncontested power in the domain.
The captain of the guard sat in his post like furniture, never meddling. The magistrate had long since joined him in sharing authority.
There had been no issues.
But in just a few days, things had changed rapidly—ever since the lord Ian awakened from his coma.
“There’s something behind all this.”
Clutching his ornate silver goblet, he recalled each action the lord had taken since waking.
The amnesiac lord was like a different man altogether—forceful, willful.
“How can a man change so completely?”
It felt as if someone else were playing his role.
Impossible, unless there was an identical twin.
“Treasurer, a maid from the castle is here.”
“Send her in.”
A young maid with a freckled face entered the broad chamber.
She had once been a pickpocket caught stealing from a merchant and sentenced to fifty lashes, nearly doomed to prison.
In exchange for her freedom, she had agreed to serve the Treasurer as his spy within the castle.
She bowed her head nervously before his laden table.
“My lord Treasurer.”
“Since the lord awoke from his coma, whom has he been meeting often?”
“Most often… Captain of the Guard, Rondo.”
“And after him?”
The Treasurer sipped wine and tore at a roasted deer’s head with his teeth as he watched her.
The maid shrank from his gaze and hurried on.
“Besides the steward and the cook… the healer.”
“Hmm… I see.”
“Oh! One more. The healer’s daughter, Linda.”
“Linda?”
The Treasurer’s eyes gleamed.
“Yes. She met him even at night, and yesterday she spent the entire morning inside his chamber without coming out.”
“In his chamber?”
Wiping the grease from his hands, the Treasurer stood and laid a hand on the maid’s shoulder.
To the trembling girl, he spoke gently.
“Don’t shake. Tell me again, in detail.”
“I didn’t see it myself—another maid told me. Before, she would only deliver medicine and leave, but this time was different. She stayed for hours in the chamber.”
“You don’t know what went on inside?”
“The guards kept watch, so she couldn’t get close.”
The Treasurer studied her for a while, then returned to his seat and filled his goblet.
Ever since the lord had barged into the chancery demanding tax cuts, he had suspected a hidden hand behind him.
Otherwise, why would a memoryless invalid suddenly raise such an issue?
Whoever it is, it doesn’t matter. Soon he won’t rise from his bed again anyway.
With a cold face, he drained his goblet, then handed the maid a small glass vial.
“Scatter this secretly on the lord’s bed.”
“What is this?”
The maid frowned at the fleas crawling inside.
“Contaminated fleas. Harmless to the healthy—but to a frail lord, they’re poison.”
“If something happens to him, I’ll be the one blamed for tending his chamber.”
She shook her head in fear, but the Treasurer called for Hicks outside.
“Take this wench out and beat her to death. Useless creature.”
“Heh heh heh.”
The burly Hicks bared yellow teeth as he advanced on her.
“I-I’ll do it! Please spare me!”
She fell to her knees, but Hicks seized her hair and raised his fist.
“Enough.”
The Treasurer stopped him and spoke evenly to the maid.
“If you won’t, your family will suffer. Do you understand?”
“I’ll do it! I’ll make sure it’s done, my lord.”
Hands trembling, she tucked the vial carefully into her clothing.
“If you succeed, you’ll be freed from the castle. A reward as well.”
“Th-thank you.”
“Hicks, escort her back to the castle.”
“Yes, my lord Treasurer.”
Draining his final cup, the Treasurer left for his bedchamber.
Blanzor, who had watched the entire scene, dissolved into smoke and drifted upward through the ceiling to the rooftop.
