* * *
Brushing the dust off his clothes, he sheathed his sword and reached out a hand to help me up.
As I took a quick glance around the unexpectedly well-kept cabin, Serta spoke cautiously.
“But, Tower Lord.”
“What?”
“Why did you have to…”
“…”
“…Never mind.”
He seemed like he wanted to ask something, but after seeing my expression, he shut his mouth.
He probably wanted to ask why I had to run away like this.
It was an escape—no doubt about it.
If Serta hadn’t followed me, it would’ve been a perfect one.
I just shrugged in response.
It seemed like I would have to tweak my plans a little.
This place was fairly close to the capital.
I had originally intended to find the next portal here and move somewhere else, but only the Tower Lord knew where it was.
I didn’t want to let Serta know the location or where I could go through it.
Somewhere near the capital… Hmm.
They say the darkest place is under the lamp. I also needed to keep up with the news from the capital, and if I planned to send Serta back, it would be better to do it from here rather than somewhere too far.
Maybe I could just endure here for a while.
I had enough food and clothing without needing to sell any of the jewels I brought, so it should be fine.
“I won’t need to leave here for a while. We have enough supplies for now.”
Saying that, I started rummaging through the cupboards and drawers.
There was flour, some sprouting potatoes, dried meat, and a few vegetables scattered about.
This was how it usually was when a portal led to a house.
Enough food to hole up for a few days…
The house in the back alley of the market street, accessible from the laundry room, was actually similar to this one.
Whether it was from the false Tower Lord’s memories or something else, I just happened to know that.
There was even a well in the backyard, so I could truly stay inside without needing to go out.
If I held out for a while and then found the right excuse, I could leave alone and disappear.
At first, they would search for me, but once they realized I was a fake, they’d give up quickly.
They wouldn’t waste time chasing an impostor when they had the real one to serve.
“I’ll do some cleaning. Why don’t you take a short walk?”
Serta removed his cloak and sword sheath as he spoke.
“Cleaning? It looks clean to me.”
“Still, it’s been empty for a while…”
Magic had kept the place spotless, so it seemed like pointless effort.
But since he wanted to do it, I had no reason to stop him.
Taking his suggestion, I stepped outside.
A cool breeze rolled down from the mountains, and the vast stretch of green grassland beyond was soothing to the eyes.
Summer was still in full swing.
I took off my robe and draped it over my arm.
The humidity lingered, but the chill in the wind wasn’t unpleasant.
After wandering near the house for a bit, I returned to find Serta just finishing up.
He was outside, shaking out the blankets.
Inside, everything seemed to gleam—whether it was my imagination or his effort, I wasn’t sure.
“I will serve you as best as I can, Tower Lord.”
Hmm. Serta seemed to have taken a liking to this house.
Bang. Bang.
A steady noise woke me from my sleep.
It was early morning.
My mind, still foggy, tried to guess what it was.
Bang. Bang. Then, the sound of something splitting—crack, thud.
Serta was outside, chopping firewood.
It was an oddly peaceful morning.
I groggily got up and washed in the water he had drawn in the bathroom.
Even in summer, the mountain nights and dawns were cold enough to need a fire.
As I dipped my feet into the warm water, my whole body seemed to melt away.
When I finished bathing and came out, Serta was already inside preparing breakfast.
Fresh milk, bean paste, flatbread, golden-brown roasted potatoes, finely chopped vegetable salad, and tea.
It wasn’t the extravagant meal I would have had at the Mage Tower, but it was more than enough.
However, contrary to what I had confidently claimed on the first day here, the food supplies alone weren’t enough to last.
The difference between expectation and reality.
Serta, after inspecting the supplies with a serious expression, spoke gravely.
“Tower Lord, these are rations for wartime.”
Even with magic preserving the state of things, fresh food couldn’t be kept from rotting forever.
Just like how I couldn’t grant immortality to people.
That’s why the storage was filled with long-lasting ingredients, but apparently, Serta didn’t find them satisfactory.
Saying he’d return unnoticed, he pulled up his hood and headed down the mountain.
The distance wasn’t exactly short, yet he was back in barely an hour, carrying a sack stuffed with milk, vegetables, ham, bread, olives, and fruit.
I had to wonder if he’d used teleportation—there was no portal leading directly to the market from here.
Serta organized the food, putting the perishables into a magically enhanced cold storage and sorting the usable ingredients from those that weren’t.
“If we ever find ourselves under siege, this would be useful.”
There was no way we’d ever be under siege, so that was probably his way of joking.
With that, most of the supplies I had mentioned earlier went right back into the cupboard.
And so, for about a week now, Serta and I had been living a peaceful life in the mountain cabin.
Serta spent his days tending to me, doing housework, and practicing swordsmanship in the yard.
Even though he was holding back considerably, the force of his strikes was unmistakable.
Just watching, I could tell how powerful he was.
No wonder Ateol had been caught off guard when both Serta and Bell attacked together.
I absentmindedly played with my bread, scooping up some bean paste with my spoon.
Serta poured tea into my cup.
“…Hey, Serta.”
“Yes, Tower Lord?”
“Did Ateol… get hurt?”
At my words, Serta paused, setting down the teapot.
His expression shifted into something unreadable before he finally answered.
“No. Not at all. He is, after all, the Emperor. We couldn’t possibly let a single scratch mar his body. And…”
“And?”
“His skills were far beyond what we anticipated. Even if we had tried, we wouldn’t have been able to injure him.”
Well, considering how he had cut down that tentacle monster in a single stroke…
For a moment, two thoughts crossed my mind: I’m glad he wasn’t hurt and ‘He really is incredible.’
But then, I quickly shook my head.
No—why was I thinking like that about Ateol?
Ateol… What even was he to me?
He had been an ally, but he wasn’t anymore.
Someone I had shared an ambiguous atmosphere with.
That was the only way to describe it—ambiguous.
Just like how I felt whenever I thought about him.
And also, we had slept together… a few times.
Ugh. The moment that thought crossed my mind, I clenched my spoon too tightly, causing the paste to splatter.
Without a word, Serta picked up a napkin and wiped the table.
Snapping out of my thoughts, I resumed eating.
Ateol’s words had a point. If you turn a fake into the real thing, it becomes real.
But that was a dangerously optimistic assumption.
No one knows where the real thing is, just like the heart of a mermaid.
And if even the results of an appraisal can be manipulated at will, then sure, I suppose that could happen.
But my situation with the gemstones is entirely different.
If the real Yuri returns, my magic will transfer to him.
* * *
