⁜ Episode 10. A Tempting Sucker
From the outside, it was just a small hut, but inside it actually had three rooms. Of course, each room was very tiny.
The reason this house could manage that was because of various magical treatments cast upon it. If it were an ordinary farmhouse heated by just a single hearth, naturally everyone would’ve had to sleep in one space together.
But since it was a temple, there were very small private rooms for monks. Still, judging from the fact that there were only three rooms, it was obvious this house was never meant to hold more than three people.
Before retreating to our rooms, we added some of the herbs just extorted from the visitor into hot water and the three of us sat around drinking it.
I had no real desire to drink tea with the visitor, but Pythia truly loved people. Just as she had started treating me like her daughter after only a week, she welcomed this stranger—whom we’d met less than three hours ago—like a relative, eager to hear his updates and troubles.
“Ah… this kind of meddling isn’t good.”
While Pythia listened to his whining, I casually glanced at the object he had taken out. Supposedly it came from the Temple of Gerka.
But I wondered: could the status window apply to objects as well?
It was just idle curiosity. I tried it—and to my surprise, the artifact’s status popped up.
[ ‘Fragment of the Armrest of the Chair of Agony’ ]
Along with it came a list of previous owners, starting with the “First Saint.”
Wow. That’s ancient. The First Saint—wasn’t she the one “loved by all the gods,” whose name was long forgotten? If so, it wasn’t strictly a Gerka temple artifact.
The ownership history stretched back a thousand years, scrolling endlessly. At last, I found the most recent owner: this very visitor. But the one before that was unexpectedly familiar.
“If I tell him this… maybe I can squeeze most of the stuff in that backpack out of him.”
So far, all we’d received was food. But when he pulled that food out earlier, I’d noticed blankets, clothes, even magical goods.
What I especially coveted was the portable fire pit. This house only had one hearth. Having an extra couldn’t hurt. And that backpack itself—I wanted it badly.
I had arrived here like a proper young lady, with a travel trunk. What I really wanted was a backpack I could sling over my shoulder. After a week in these mountains, I’d already spotted plenty of herbs that could substitute for spices.
I made up my mind.
“Visitor.”
“Y-Yes?”
“Just now, Lord Gerka gave me a revelation regarding this item.”
“Ehh?”
His disbelief was blatant. Of course, I was lying.
And the doubt wasn’t only from him. Pythia, too, stared at me wide-eyed, silently asking with her expression: You didn’t receive any revelation, did you?
I ignored her. Why not? I did receive knowledge from Gerka—through the status window. That counts as revelation.
“Isn’t this the armrest of a chair?”
The man jumped to his feet. Aha, so he already knew it was an armrest. To the naked eye it was just a chunk of wood—you’d only guess “armrest” if you knew.
Now came the real acting. I folded my hands gently on the table, looked up at him, and smiled benevolently.
“The Chair of Agony, isn’t it?”
“T-Truly, Lord Gerka gave you this revelation?”
How impious, to doubt me. I lowered my voice solemnly.
“Admittedly, my lack of ability meant I only heard part of it. But I was told of the first and the latest owners. The first was the ‘First Saint.’ And as for one of the previous owners who might be of help to you…”
He swallowed hard.
“And that owner is…?”
At that moment, I let my gaze drift—to his enormous backpack. Pythia, following my eyes, jumped up in protest.
“N-No, no, no, it’s not what you think!”
She flailed her hands, trying to prove we weren’t robbers. But the visitor ignored her, ran straight to the backpack, and slammed it onto the table.
“I offer it to Lord Gerka!”
“…Including the backpack?”
“Yes, the backpack too! All of it!”
Oh, thank you, dear customer. I’ll take that. In exchange, here’s the name you purchased:
“Isabel Confino.”
The visitor froze. Finally, he asked cautiously:
“You mean… the Tower Master, Confino?”
“Yes, precisely.”
I was sure. The ownership list clearly read: ‘Isabel Confino, the Eternal Flame.’
Tower Masters always bore grand titles. Even if you didn’t know if her given name was Isabel or Elizabeth, you knew her by “Eternal Flame.”
“She… she was a former owner of this relic?”
“Well, one of them, yes.”
“Oh… of course. If it’s her, then surely she could answer all the questions I have about this artifact. I’m so glad I came. Honestly, I worried you might be robbers, but—”
Hey, watch your mouth, commoner. Saying that in front of a princess and a future countess?
But he went on, hands raised to the sky:
“Ah, it’s all Gerka’s guidance! The God of Wisdom has not abandoned me!”
What I could never adapt to in this world was people’s extreme overacting. Like him right now, pointing at the heavens, crying out.
But Pythia outdid him. She fell to her knees, clasped her hands, and prayed tearfully:
“Ah, Lord Gerka, you sent a disciple to care for your useless daughter. I swear to follow you forever, forever!”
Wait, wasn’t she just glaring at me for “risking divine punishment”?
I was dumbfounded. These people’s mood swings were impossible to follow.
So I simply picked up the backpack and slipped into my room. Just because they were crying now didn’t mean they wouldn’t regret it later.
And indeed, I was right.
The next morning, the ungrateful visitor began complaining timidly:
“Well, um… taking the backpack as well feels… a little too much compared to what I received…”
Ha. Sir Customer, this won’t do. We had a verbal contract. And in a world with no consumer protection agency, who do you think you’re talking to?
I snatched back the breakfast plate I had set before him.
“What did you say?”
Did he want to leave the mountain without eating?
Pythia nearly leapt up again, but I pressed her shoulder gently.
“Sit down. You’ll spill the soup.”
“O-Oh, sorry. I mean, thank you. I mean—”
“Just sit.”
Even if she wanted to keep scraping by on hard bread, I wouldn’t allow it. Not for me, and not for her.
The visitor’s lips trembled.
“I-I suppose… that’s true?”
“I don’t mind, but since you say you feel guilty…”
“Ah, if you don’t mind, then maybe…”
“Are you saying you lied about a divine revelation? About an offering?”
His mouth opened and closed like a fish before he whispered:
“…N-No, of course not…”
Defeated. I happily made him sign a written pledge before sending him on his way.
“Ah, if only the next sucker is as easy as this one. But that might be too much to hope for.”
Meanwhile, Jean Corchet sniffled as he sipped warm milk.
Robbed of his backpack by bandits in the name of god, he had been forced to descend the mountain without food. Surviving the trip down had been a miracle in itself—he hadn’t run into bandits, and passing travelers had shared water.
Otherwise, he might have collapsed and died halfway down.
“Perhaps it really was Gerka’s arrangement.”
How else could he explain it?
The truth, of course, was that the knights of House Danior had recently cleared the bandits on that very path. People now used it frequently, which was why he met so many. Nothing to do with divine will.
But Jean had his own reason for thinking otherwise:
“I never expected the name Confino to come up.”
Only two people in the world should know this relic was once Isabel Confino’s and now in his hands: the disciple who stole it, and himself who bought it.
So how had the name surfaced in a remote mountain shrine?
“A revelation? A disciple?”
He knew the shrine only housed one saintess. Where had this “disciple,” a noble-born young lady no less, come from?
“I’ll have to find out.”
A cold light flickered in Jean’s eyes.
