Chapter 27

I check my gear.

Focusing on practicality and comfort for action.

The color scheme is intentionally dark to minimize visibility of stains, dirt, or blood.

At my waist hangs the real sword I prepared beforehand, while at my thigh rests a dagger, small hatchet, steel needle, and scissors.

I also make sure to pack various auxiliary tools.

Emergency funds have been steadily accumulated, so there’s no immediate worry about finances.

I prepare restorative potions for emergencies, dried medicinal powders for wounds, and confirm the packaging of antidotes before packing them.

‘Anything else…?’

Dry rations can be picked up from the warehouse.

The backpack is kept to a minimum.

However, knowing well that lighter baggage often means tougher journeys, Carriel thoroughly checks everything.

With a robe that doubles as a hood and windbreaker wrapped around, the final step is shouldering the backpack, completing preparations.

This process has been mentally rehearsed dozens—no, hundreds of times.

Putting it into action now feels somewhat bittersweet.

A slight excitement stirs within me.

It fades quickly though.

‘Spare shoes too…’

If only I could lead a horse, it’d save the trouble of packing. But alas, capturing wild horses within the empire isn’t easy, let alone without proper equipment.

Tapping the floor lightly with leather boots reaching my ankles, Carriel…

calmly surveys his room. A letter lies on the desk but after a moment’s hesitation, he retrieves it.

The only thing left is the lyre, but that can be taken care of along the way.

Glancing toward the window, he turns resolutely and exits the room.

“…Young Master.”

There stands Silphia, lantern in hand.

“Are you… going to where Mistress is? Is that right?”

“…”

“Oh, today is such a joyous occasion, isn’t it? And… I heard you splendidly dealt with His Imperial Highness, didn’t you?”

Though her words aren’t entirely accurate, Carriel doesn’t bother correcting her.

“Th-That is… now…”

“Silphia.”

“…?”

Normally, a baron’s household would have dedicated maids and servants without raising eyebrows.

But the Brendiar family, being newly ennobled and once called rootless, lacks such foundations.

Their rapid rise meant they were still building their base.

Moreover, due to an economical mother and a father who disdained formalities and pretense, the residence was managed by minimal staff.

Even this was thanks to the emperor’s consideration; otherwise, not even a doorman or gardener would exist.

Maids were hired help paid regular wages.

And Silphia, she was a child Carriel himself had brought in to employ.

“…?”

Ah, almost forgot.

“Young…Master?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Huh?”

“…Because of my inadequacies, I’ve occasionally snapped at you and vented frustrations.”

At this, Silphia’s hazel eyes widen dramatically as she shakes her head vigorously.

“N-No! That’s because I’m clumsy and lack skill! I-I’m slow on the uptake too…”

“It’s fine.”

I gently pat the kid’s black hair and say:

“Still, because you were here, this household… became slightly more…”

What should I say?

No suitable words come to mind.

There was a fitting sentence somewhere…

But still, emptiness remains.

Yet, my gratitude is genuine.

“If only I were someone capable enough to solve all your worries…”

“That’s enough. Don’t blame yourself.”

I extend the letter in my hand.

“My leave from the academy is nearing its end, and I need some time to sort out my thoughts. So, I’ll be leaving the empire for a while.”

“…”

She must already know.

That I’m leaving home without a word to my parents.

Perhaps she sensed long ago that I had no attachment to this house and planned to leave.

…How many signs did I give?

“Will you…return?”

…Is that really so surprising?

Did she think I’d leave forever?

“…”

That’s true.

If it weren’t for who I am now…

Certainly.

I would have left permanently.

In a way that couldn’t be traced.

I might have reached the farthest edge of the continent somehow.

“Come to think of it…”

Long ago.

I wanted to see beyond the map’s borders, across the distant seas.

…Now, I can’t recall when exactly that was.

“I will wait.”

Stepping back, the kid bows her head respectfully.

Then, despite her tear-filled eyes, she forces a smile as she looks at me.

I find her truly beautiful in this moment.

“To welcome you again someday.”

“…”

Silphia doesn’t insist on accompanying me or following me on this departure.

We both understand each other’s circumstances too well.

With her needing to care for her sickly mother and younger siblings…

It’s an unavoidable choice.

Resentment?

Impossible.

At such a young age, she fulfills her role diligently.

She probably wishes she could play and act childish with her parents like others her age.

Despite being younger than me,

she’s worked hard since the day we met, even if lacking in finesse.

“Is there anything else you’d like to convey?”

“Hmm.”

I ponder for a moment.

“I’ll think about that later.”

I will leave forever.

But not now.

Vanishing like a runaway seems improper.

After all, the academy break ends soon, and the imperial jousting competition approaches.

Alecius and my old acquaintances will likely attend in large numbers.

Descendants of heroes and warriors.

All strong contenders.

“…”

Let’s sprinkle some fuel on the fire.

And then, decisively conclude things.

So there’s no return.

Even they…

…won’t be able to greet me again.

Clearly and unmistakably.

…I shall douse it with fuel.

====

Leaving over the walls of the residence toward the park.

“It’s a son! A son!”

“My goodness! Really?”

“Incredible!”

As if a midnight festival erupted, people gathered in commotion.

While cloaked in ash-colored fabric, I retrieve the lyre from a secluded part of the park and hurry onward.

“Great blessings of the empire!”

“Lord Ruelde! Hail! Holy Maiden Hermine! Hail!”

“His Majesty the Emperor is heading to the grand church upon hearing this news!”

“Baron Bariel has already arrived, they say!”

…

It sounds like a tale from another world.

The realm is vast, and the road ahead is long.

Like always, I scale the walls to rooftops and swiftly move through districts.

The oblivious crowd below celebrates earnestly, offering prayers.

Their jubilant scene continues until I reach the city walls.

“…”

Scanning the guards patrolling the walls, I confirm a spot unlikely to draw attention from a relatively high rooftop.

Landing silently, I leap up the wall as if climbing it.

And immediately,

silently hurl myself outside the walls.

Suddenly.

I turn mid-air to look back.

The receding city walls fill my view.

They grow larger, becoming…

Eventually, an insurmountable barrier.

Thud!

Successfully landing and sticking to the ground, I press myself against the outer wall.

Of course, patrols roam outside the walls too.

Having studied their patterns carefully, I know this much.

Still, unseen eyes may lurk elsewhere.

Avoiding exposure to torchlight, I hide in the shadows and leap forward.

Choosing this dense forest wasn’t random.

‘The destination aligns… and chances of discovery are minimized.’

Intentionally designed to double as external patrols, but it poses no issue.

Within the woods.

Born amidst trees and forests.

…Moving freely far beyond comparison to ordinary humans.

Climbing a tree to read the wind direction, I consider how scents might spread as I proceed.

Once out of range, I’ll evade patrols.

Camping here would be akin to asking to be caught.

Why get detained when I’m not on a picnic?

Even this movement is deliberate.

The goal isn’t speed but steady progress away from the area.

While swiftly traversing between trees,

something catches my eye.

Two horses tied to a tree.

And beside them,

someone glancing upward.

Carriel momentarily wonders if he’s hallucinating.

Upon securely landing on a branch and turning cautiously,

“…”

Someone cloaked in a fur-lined hood stares intently from the darkness.

Just then, coincidentally, the moon peeks out from behind clouds.

Its light filters through the trees,

illuminating particularly around them.

As the white-furred red hood is lifted,

a crimson wave swirls,

revealing azure eyes gleaming with moonlight.

“Why…?”

Are you here?

Especially now.

“I haven’t waited long.”

Thus, let us briefly…

“Take a breather and converse.”

Carriel Brendiar.

“Or should I call you Baron Rutiath now?”

“…”

Turning away now would be one option.

“…”

But seeing her presence here personally,

I cannot refuse her offer.

After all, she bears no fault.

If any fault exists, it’s in viewing her very existence and efforts as wrong.

That’s misguided.

An error.

Ultimately, my unnecessary emotional expenditure toward her stems from my own inferiority complex.

So,

“Alright.”

I descend from the tree and approach her.

Her surroundings are bathed in radiant moonlight.

Ellie Berg Enzul.

My childhood playmate.

An equal descendant of heroes and warriors.

Their legacy.

Yet, we contrast so starkly.

Bathed in moonlight, she appears strikingly beautiful, steadfast, dignified, and refined.

People say.

They describe her as such.

Within her chest lies embedded steel, frozen solid.

Even her golden blood, veins included,

perhaps remain utterly cold.

Yet, despite that.

All her actions exude kindness, nobility, and sublime self-sacrifice.

What scenery does her azure gaze reflect?

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