* * *
“But you… you’ve got a little sibling you actually care about. Probably decent family ties too. Doesn’t match up with that kind of background.”
“…Why did you suddenly bring up my younger sibling?”
“Hm? The way you comfort people when they cry… It’s exactly how you’d treat a child.”
“Ah…”
That was the kind of reaction that just came out without thinking.
It was so natural for him that he never even stopped to reflect on it.
Cha Eunseong’s life couldn’t be explained without mentioning Eunhye.
His one and only, irreplaceable family—more precious than anything.
They were nearing the school.
Doter slowed his walking pace deliberately and spoke.
“So I thought you were just some mediocre swordsman. I never expected you to be a professional assassin. You even ate a free meal and fell asleep in the young master’s bed. That night, I stayed up watching you, thinking you might be faking sleep, waiting for a chance to slit his throat. I was dying of exhaustion, you know.”
“……”
Ranshel felt… mildly ashamed, though not completely.
Why had he been so sleepy that day?
It wasn’t like him to fall asleep so easily in someone else’s bed.
It was strange.
And yet, he’d slept deeply without waking once.
“That night, the young master did something to you… Ah, I’ll skip that part. Privacy and all.”
“……?”
“Anyway, after that, I was convinced. If you were really just some third-rate sword-for-hire, it wouldn’t be good to keep you around the young master, right? I was planning to stir up some trouble and send you back to Pomel Castle…”
But after seeing the technique where he jammed a dagger into the wheel of a moving carriage, the daring way he grabbed a blade with his bare hand—Doter was sure.
Ranshel was no third-rate mercenary.
He hadn’t failed to kill Zavad.
He’d been deliberately staying close, with a goal in mind.
“…So killing you right away would’ve been pointless. I had to find out what your real purpose was. And when someone started tailing you from the shadows… well, how could I resist catching them?”
Ranshel held back the sigh that almost escaped.
He could mostly follow Doter’s reasoning now, but there was still a lingering sense of injustice.
For all his long-winded explanation, wasn’t Doter just saying he’d misunderstood?
“Well, it turned out fine, didn’t it? Thanks to me catching that maid, the situation cleared up quickly. Otherwise, I would’ve had to watch you for a lot longer.”
“Yes, eternally grateful,” Ranshel replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“You’re welcome,” Doter answered shamelessly.
Suppressing another sigh, Ranshel suddenly asked:
“Why do you know so much about mercenary groups anyway?”
“Hmm, because I was one of them.”
“……What?”
Ranshel turned to look at Doter’s face.
As always, Doter wore that carefree smile.
“The details are a secret. I like being mysterious.”
“What does that even…”
“Shouldn’t you be asking a more important question? There’s something you need to hear from me, right?”
Ranshel knew Doter was deliberately changing the subject, but there wasn’t time to argue.
They were approaching the school gates.
Ranshel had to hear what Doter had to say before they arrived.
—Let’s make a deal. If you cooperate quietly, I’ll give you information that’ll help you.
—Don’t you want to know who was giving Hans his orders?
Yes, he had to know now.
Who in Pomel Castle was orchestrating all this, targeting Zavad?
“Before that, I’ll give you a little free service. You remember the monk locked up in Pomel Castle’s underground prison?”
“……Yeah.”
Of course he remembered.
He was the one who’d framed the monk, accusing him of setting fire to Zavad’s room and getting him imprisoned.
“I already asked Gary to keep an eye on who the monk’s been meeting with. But who knows how that’s going.”
“Hmph, Gary wouldn’t agree to that so easily. Did you promise him payment?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t. If it’s Gary, he’ll donate everything to the Crusade anyway. Just give it to me instead.”
“…Why would I give that to you?”
Ranshel couldn’t hide his irritation at the ridiculous suggestion.
But Doter just laughed brightly and dropped an unexpected bomb.
“Because I already know the answer.”
“…What?”
Ranshel started to turn around, but Doter’s hand stopped him.
“We’re at the front gate. From now on, eyes forward. If you want to answer, just nod or shake your head.”
“……”
Plenty of people were watching.
Doter’s eyesight rivaled that of a hawk—his auxiliary skills were top-tier.
Doter lightly tapped Ranshel’s shoulder with his fingertips.
“Let’s retrace everything from the beginning. When you first arrived at Pomel Castle… Remember the monk pretending to be a physician? The one escorted weekly by the attendants to young master Zavad’s room?”
Ranshel nodded.
“He was treated like someone with respectable status. Why? Because he was a monk of the Holy Order. Devotees of the divine are revered wherever they go. But do you think that’s all?”
“……?”
Ranshel shook his head slightly.
Doter’s voice dropped lower.
“Think about who influences the attendants’ behavior. The attendants were following orders. Orders from their superiors, telling them to treat that monk with utmost respect.”
Those superiors would be the head butler, or perhaps the steward overseeing the staff’s conduct.
So it was their command?
“But doesn’t that strike you as odd? A ‘physician’ entering the castle weekly—how did he conceal his true identity? Who allowed it?”
…Right.
That wasn’t an internal problem—it was external.
The head butler or steward could control internal affairs, but bringing outsiders into the castle without inspection?
That had to pass through a different checkpoint.
Allowing regular, unsupervised entry to an outsider—it required permission from the lord of the castle.
The master of Pomel Castle.
Doter squeezed Ranshel’s shoulder lightly, then released him.
“That person—the master of the castle—gave Hans his orders.”
“……”
The monk who injected demonic blood into Zavad’s body, triggering a high fever with his ‘Purification’ skill.
Hans, who tried to poison Zavad with Merque, a paralyzing toxin.
They were all following one person’s orders.
The current head of Pomel Castle—Zavad’s nominal father, Benjet Pomel.
In the game Ranshel knew, the duke merely allowed others to torment Zavad, passively watching from the sidelines.
But this wasn’t passive. It wasn’t neglect or mere tolerance.
‘The story hasn’t changed… It was a trap in the narrative.’
After all, the game unfolded entirely from Frey’s perspective.
Zavad’s backstory came only from his spoken lines.
So, if Zavad himself had misunderstood his past, it was entirely possible the perpetrators, collaborators, and bystanders were all twisted together behind the scenes.
Ranshel propped his chin on his hand, covering his mouth as he muttered:
“Then you… Whose orders are you following?”
If the Duke was orchestrating Zavad’s downfall, then who was opposing him—who was protecting Zavad?
“Hm, that’s still a secret. I haven’t gotten permission to reveal that yet.”
“…What?”
“But I’ll swear this much. Our master would never harm young master Zavad. You can trust that.”
“……”
“I know you’ve got a lot of questions. But when the time comes, you’ll understand everything. For now… shouldn’t you be handling that urgent business in the capital first?”
…Just how much did this man know?
Ranshel felt a mixture of suspicion and relief.
Still, wasn’t it more than he expected?
That there were people on Zavad’s side.
There were people who wanted to protect Zavad.
Even if Ranshel disappeared, they’d stay by his side.
“Then, are you planning to stay at the Pomel Castle from now on?”
“Mhm, but I’ve got other things to take care of. I’ll probably be wandering around here and there.”
“Ah…”
So, there was no point in sending word to the castle while he was at the academy.
Ranshel looked a little downcast.
It would’ve been nice to have someone like him—someone knowledgeable—around to ask for help.
* * *
