Theorad Wants Revenge

The next morning.

A cool breeze stirred the leaves in the courtyard as Havid, the head steward of House Deharem, sat before the stone statue of the previous viscount.

“Hmm.”

He straightened his back, carefully brushed the collar of his tailcoat, and surveyed the servants assembled in front of him. His shoes, as ever, were immaculate.

All twenty-one had reported in less than half an hour after receiving his summons. Ordinarily, the discipline of the household staff would have pleased him. Today, he had more urgent matters on his mind.

His expression hardened.

“You've assembled promptly. Good. I called you here because someone has committed a disgraceful offense against the late head of this family.”

The servants glanced at one another in confusion.

An offense against the previous viscount?

Havid allowed their whispers to die down.

“I don't know which shameless wretch is responsible, but one of you has urinated on the statue of the former head of the household.”

For a moment, no one spoke.

Then gasps rose from the crowd. Some servants looked appalled; others seemed incapable of believing what they'd heard.

Not everyone was equally disturbed.

Maltao, a dark-skinned young man near the back, was rubbing his sleepy eyes and yawning.

That boy again.

Havid had never been fond of Maltao's carefree attitude. A servant of the distinguished Deharem household ought to show some dignity. He wasn't asking for anything extraordinary, only basic manners—but that boy could make even a simple gathering seem like an inconvenience.

Perhaps this will teach him to behave.

Havid lifted his chin toward him.

“You. Maltao.”

Maltao pointed at himself, startled.

“Me, sir?”

“Is there another Maltao among the servants?”

“No, but… Did you need something?”

“Tell me. Who do you think is responsible?”

“How would I know who—”

Maltao broke off. Everyone was looking at him.

“Wait! I didn't do it!” he protested, waving his hands and backing away. “Why would I piss on the old master's statue? I'm not a lunatic!”

“You've been known to drink during the week. You're the only servant who does so, Maltao.”

“That's because the master gave me permission to drink medicinal wine after work! Besides, I've never had so much that I lost my senses.”

“Are you sure you haven't forgotten what you did?”

“Of course I haven't! I swear by the God of Light that I'm innocent. Believe me, old man!”

“Hmm.”

Havid would have liked to press him harder, but that oath made him hesitate. To question it carelessly might itself be taken as irreverence toward the God of Light.

He clicked his tongue and turned toward the others.

“Then the culprit must be somewhere among the rest of you. Who is it? Confess now, and I'll be merciful. You may get away with losing only one finger.”

Naturally, no one volunteered.

The servants stood motionless, trying not to catch his eye. Veins stood out on Havid's forehead.

“Very well. I know someone here is guilty, yet no one will confess. You've left me no choice. I shall request that an inquisitor be sent here from the nearby parish.”

The assembled servants began murmuring in alarm.

An inquisitor? Over someone urinating on a statue?

“Hold on, old man,” Maltao said. “The church in that parish is where the bishop lives, isn't it? You're a commoner, same as us. How could you possibly demand an inquisitor's help?”

“For once, you've asked a sensible question. The request is not being made on my own authority.”

“Then whose?”

“The head of this household entrusted me with the authority needed to find the culprit. Our lord is Viscount Theorad Deharem. The bishop knows the standing of our house and will hear his request.”

Maltao fell silent.

Havid extended one white-gloved hand, his face severe.

“Lies are the darkness of the heart, a direct affront to the God of Light! Whoever did this, listen well. I will uncover your wickedness and force the truth from your mouth!”

At his thunderous declaration, one of the women in the crowd flinched.

Her name was Levera.

She had seen Lord Theorad making his naked elf slave crawl through this very courtyard.

Surely the master couldn't have ordered his elf to do something like that…

But when she tried to imagine who might have urinated on the statue, the elf was the only person who came to mind.

No. It can't be.

She didn't want to believe it. Yet if an inquisitor questioned her, she wouldn't be able to conceal what she had witnessed.

---

I was enjoying the carriage ride to the shopping district.

The sight of well-kept wooden buildings sliding past my window soothed my nerves.

Wonderful. Just wonderful.

I'd left the mansion before the elf woke up. That alone was enough to make the morning feel glorious.

The cool wind was pleasant, too. Children laughed as they played, women washed clothes in the daylight, and merchants called out to passing customers. The whole city seemed alive.

It's good to see things haven't changed.

I had always thought the County of Pelgaroin, in the heart of the empire, was an excellent place to live.

The count's standing army maintained order, keeping crime low. Monsters rarely approached this far inland, and the high mountains surrounding the region made it a natural stronghold. Neighboring nobles had little reason to start territorial disputes here. Anyone who tried to invade would be placing themselves at an immediate disadvantage.

The main route to the imperial capital also passed through Pelgaroin, so trade flourished. Merchants brought goods from faraway lands, and unusual wares were an everyday sight in the markets.

It was a prosperous place, and the residents looked it. They went about their work with cheerful energy.

I might have been biased because I lived here, but I was convinced it was one of the finest counties in the empire.

“Krrr… Hrrr…”

The sound of snoring interrupted my thoughts.

I turned to the man slouched beside me.

His armor was poorly fastened, his beard untrimmed, and he'd apparently neglected to buckle his belt properly. There was nothing about him that suggested a knight on escort duty.

Unfortunately, that was exactly what he was.

His name was Beynon Brokena, and he was the sole remaining household knight of House Deharem.

There had once been two. The other had departed on the day my father died, declaring that his obligations of loyalty and service had come to an end. That left Beynon as our only sworn knight.

Perhaps I should recruit another.

I was hardly eager to entrust my personal protection and the estate's defense to a man who couldn't even stay awake during a carriage ride.

While I considered the matter, the carriage rattled to a halt.

After a moment, the coachman opened the door and bowed.

“We've arrived, my lord.”

“Good. Thank you for the ride.”

As I stepped down, he glanced at the sleeping Beynon.

“Shall I wake Sir Beynon?”

“Leave him. I brought him along as a formality.”

If I woke him, he'd probably only make some foolish joke. I would be better off going in alone.

“Wait here with the carriage.”

“Yes, my lord.”

I entered the shop.

Weapons of every kind hung on the walls. Beyond a broad window lay a wide clearing, its earth blackened in places and littered with scorched debris and the remnants of explosives.

Good. I've come to the right place.

“Welcome…”

The man at the counter looked up without much enthusiasm. Then he recognized me and his face brightened.

“Lord Theorad!”

He hurried around the counter and clasped my hand.

“I've been meaning to thank you again for the other day!”

“It was nothing.”

“The five pigs you sent to celebrate my sister's wedding! I was able to hold my head high among the relatives. My little sister was delighted.”

I was a little embarrassed by his enthusiasm.

“It was nothing. Your business supplied weapons diligently during the emperor's campaign against the orcs eight years ago, didn't it? Our family owed you that much.”

“We did. And your house paid a fair delivery price, unlike the other nobles. That's part of the reason I've been able to prosper.”

“You should thank my father for that.”

“I thank both of you! Your father treated me fairly, and you remembered my younger sister's important family occasions, not just the business we did together. What other noble would trouble himself over a merchant's sister? You're a generous man, my lord.”

I'd only done what seemed right, but he was determined to flatter me. I coughed, feeling slightly awkward.

“Enough about the past. I'm here to look at weapons.”

“Of course, my lord. What kind of weapon did you have in mind?”

“I heard a remarkable new device has arrived from the principality. I'd like to see what it can do.”

“From the principality? Ah, the monster-hunting weapon?”

“That's the one.”

The merchant blinked, then took a small box from a display case. It was no larger than my palm and carefully wrapped in silk.

“One moment, please.”

He carried the box to the middle of the clearing, set it on the dirt, and came back with a small stone plate bearing two buttons.

“Those people in the principality have made something extraordinary. Press the upper button, and…”

He pressed it.

The box transformed before my eyes into what looked like a bag of sand.

“A transformation spell disguises the device as part of the surrounding terrain. Now, if you press the lower button…”

He did.

There was a blinding flash.

BOOM!

The ground heaved. Flames erupted upward, and a powerful gust of wind struck the shop's windows.

I recoiled.

The merchant beamed at my reaction.

“A massive explosion. It destroys everything around it. The principality markets it as a weapon for hunting monsters, but considering that it's wrapped in Al-Qaera cloth, I doubt that's its only purpose.”

“Al-Qaera cloth?”

“A special fabric that conceals the flow of mana completely. From what I hear, even the master of the Pitch-Black Mage Tower couldn't detect a magical device hidden inside it.”

“You mean the great wizard of the demon realm?”

“That's the one. The principality has plainly designed this for warfare. It's too expensive to produce on a mass scale, but imagine ten of these going off in the middle of an enemy formation. Their morale would collapse—and so would their formation.”

“I see…”

I swallowed.

“Then this thing can be detonated from a distance without an enemy detecting it?”

“That's right.”

“And suppose a wizard were caught in the blast?”

“A wizard?”

The merchant rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“A weak one would die on the spot. Someone with greater magical ability might survive, but the effort of defending against the blast would drain their mana. Even a powerful wizard's protection has its limits.”

Mana exhaustion.

I knew what that meant. A wizard who depleted their reserves so completely could spend three days to a week unable to eat or drink, hovering near death.

Surely even an elf would suffer from that.

If I could render her helpless for a little while, I could send her away from the mansion and finally live in peace.

I turned to the merchant, unable to suppress a dark smile.

“I'll pay for the one you demonstrated as well. Please get me one just like it.”

“Certainly, my lord, but… What are you planning to use it for? You really intend to hunt monsters?”

“Monsters…”

I gave a short laugh and lifted my chin.

“Demon hunting would be the more accurate description.”