“What is this…?”
The moment Rianne entered to check her present, an exclamation of astonishment escaped her lips.
She had been expecting a bundle reeking of decay, filled with the innards, bones, and skin of a demon beast. Instead, upon entering the room, she was greeted by a thick yet pleasant scent of mana. Her body felt revitalized, her skin growing moist. Could this truly be the environment emanating from the corpse of a demon beast notorious for its ferocity?
On the desk lay the byproducts, and beside it rested a colossal bone. Though meager in quantity compared to the creature’s size, they were still immensely precious.
The byproducts of beasts like Brikala were themselves of extraordinary value.
“Perhaps it’s possible.”
Isaac grabbed the byproducts along with the Roselixir given to him by Roengreen and stepped outside. His hopeful steps were headed towards Vivian. Originally, he had planned to visit for his routine checkup the next day, but the unexpected promise of Brikala’s byproducts spurred him into action.
“It’s not possible.”
Vivian answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“…”
The smell of disinfectant in the infirmary was sharp, jerking him back to reality.
“If it were that simple, the Mage Tower would’ve already done it. Aren’t you thinking this is too easy?”
“…”
“Didn’t I tell you last time? The Mage Tower has already thoroughly researched the use of potions. A person’s constitution doesn’t change that easily.”
“…”
“If eating healthy were enough to increase everyone’s mana reserves, then why would there be talent and why would mages need to be selected?”
Annoyed, or perhaps because her words were ignored last time, Vivian unloaded a barrage of complaints.
“In short, don’t take it lightly. But still, leave the innards and the Roselixir with me. I’ll at least ask the apothecary I know.”
After a sermon about talent, mages, and constitution lasting about 10 minutes, Vivian promised to consult an apothecary.
Though he thought she could’ve said so from the start, in the past, she would’ve dismissed it as pointless and refused outright. At least their relationship had improved to the point of such a response.
“Hmm.”
Stepping out of the infirmary, Isaac inspected the remaining materials. Balanced on his shoulder was a bone twice the length of an adult male’s arm, and the skin, rolled up like a scroll, hung nearby.
He occasionally went fishing during his work as a laborer, carrying it much like he did his fishing rod, though unlike fishing, his skills were lackluster.
“Isaac, where did you go?”
Exiting outside, Isaac met Silbern, who had been looking for him after visiting his dorm without success.
“What is it?”
Expecting nothing much, Silbern handed him something unexpected.
“Here, take this.”
“What is it?”
Resting on his palm was an earring shimmering with a silver hue. Its plain design was far from extravagant. Having handled frost silver ore when crafting swords, Isaac immediately recognized the material.
“This is made of frost silver!”
“Yep, I made it with what was left after making your sword.”
“…”
No matter that it was an earring, it was still frost silver. Isaac was about to refuse it as a gift too extravagant, but Silbern abruptly shoved it into his pocket.
With his hands occupied by the bone, he didn’t resist and ended up accepting it.
“Wear it sometime later.”
“What if people see this?”
Were earrings not supposed to be worn outwardly? Though he allowed him to touch his attitude, earrings still felt somewhat awkward.
“Who outside of the north could even recognize frost silver?”
“…”
She wasn’t wrong. Frost silver wasn’t something widely seen in the market. Likely, only royalty could identify it.
‘Still, accepting this kind of gift…’
As Isaac’s expression darkened, Silbern lightly patted his shoulder with a smile.
“Lighten up, will you? Some people have already sorted out their feelings and don’t feel anything anymore, yet you keep assigning meaning to things I give you.”
“Silbern—”
“And if it bothers you so much, give back the sword. It’ll probably look like a dowry then.”
“Cough.”
Isaac quickly blocked his waist, preventing him from retrieving the sword.
‘Darn, Silbern just wants to stay friends. I shouldn’t ruin the atmosphere.’
Since she claimed to have sorted out her feelings, it would be rude of him to act awkward. Thus, Isaac decided to accept her goodwill honestly.
“Thank you, I’ll use it well.”
An earring. He had never worn one in his past life either.
‘Well, life is about challenges, right?’
This was his second life after all. Trying new experiences would be beneficial.
‘Anna, nonetheless.’
On the other hand, Silbern was inwardly delighted to see Isaac accept her gift. The current Isaac had too strong a guard. With the justification of being a married man, it could ironically alienate her further if she persisted.
Thus, following Anna’s advice, her new strategy became “We’re friends, right?”
[Lady, do you know how Rianne got close to Isaac? She rowed a boat and their eyes met.]
[You, milady, are in a far better position. A comrade-in-arms who fought side by side, risking their life. Isn’t this how friends become lovers and lovers become spouses?]
[Stick closest. Thanks to that sword you gave him, you already hold an advantageous position. Keep bombarding with gifts until Isaac finds it impossible to reject you.]
[Then when the divorce happens, you snatch him immediately!]
She learned love through novels, but Anna’s approach was surprisingly combative. Yet, surprisingly, Silbern favored this method.
‘Last time at the infirmary, I grew too soft.’
She felt it was wrong to interrupt the time between the two and retreated hastily.
But now, Rianne wasn’t here. With her sense of guilt alleviated, Silbern smiled broadly and made a proposal.
“I’m off work too. Why don’t we go grab some beers?”
Her natural suggestion was met with a lighter expression from Isaac.
“Sure, I wanted to talk about something too.”
“Talk?”
Isaac gave a shrug with his bone-laden shoulder.
“I have an idea I’ve been thinking about.”
“Idea?”
“Look, if it’s hard to increase internal mana, why not pull it in from the outside—”
Before long, the two were absorbed in sharing their ideas, laughing and chatting as they strolled side by side. Surprisingly, they made quite a well-matched pair.
*
A few days later.
The main house, upon returning after a long absence, had transformed from its usual solemnity into a rather lively atmosphere.
The residents of the towns near Helvint were setting up stalls under tents, preparing for street vending.
From royalty to commoners, everyone gathered to witness the Swordsmanship Festival.
Special invitations were extended to certain nobility who were hosted in Helvint’s mansion, but lacking an invitation didn’t bar one from attending the festival.
Thus, the Swordsmanship Festival was an event open to outsiders.
In Helvint, the festival was seen as a rather serious occasion, while in the neighboring towns, it was a grand party held every four years—an opportunity for significant profit.
And so, the roads leading to the mansion were already lined with stalls, and even tourists arrived to relax early.
Arandel allowed everything.
Though there were opinions suggesting that the solemnity of the festival was compromised, the confidence was evident: if there were flaws, they pointed to the organizers’ problem. Moreover, there was an obligation to display Helvint’s prowess in swordsmanship to the masses, and the festival format encouraged more attendance.
Rianne and Sharon stepped out from the carriage at the mansion’s entrance.
“Yaaaawn! My body feels stiff.”
“…”
Sharon stretched her body this way and that, stifling a yawn, while deliberately avoiding looking at Rianne. Her father’s impending punishment worried her, and she didn’t want to be an easy target.
“Shall I greet them?”
“Yes, miss.”
Sharon nudged Rianne’s back as if pretending to speak to Kelsey.
“Come on,” Sharon urged with her eyes, prompting Rianne to slowly move toward the mansion.
“Big sister!”
A voice, heard after nearly a month’s absence, rang out. Sharon’s expression twisted as she followed the sound, while Rianne’s calm gaze widened.
“Big sister! You’ve finally come back!”
A tall and handsome young man, Helvint’s third son Aloys, appeared with a dazzling smile to greet Rianne.
“I’m here too, you know.”
While Sharon pouted, pointing to herself, Aloys’s eyes were firmly fixed on Rianne.
“Are you all right? Any injuries? I could’ve accompanied you if you’d told me!”
“…”
“I’ve suffered too.”
“Our father is very angry, but don’t worry. I have some excuses prepared!”
“…”
“Is mother home?”
“Me too, I’m injured.”
“Yes! She has returned!”
Sharon’s muttering was already ignored completely. She muttered and left with Kelsey to enter the house.
“So, you’ve come.”
“Perfect timing, father is currently welcoming guests brought by mother. Thus, you might follow the scenario I set up—”
“Guests?”
“Yes! Guests from Blackhand, they said.”
“…”
Rianne’s suddenly wavered gaze twisted immediately, and she swiftly grabbed her large sword, Ragnarbell, from the carriage.
“Sister?”
“Just in case.”
Whoosh!
The sword traced a parabolic arc.
With the scabbard still attached, it functioned more as a blunt weapon than a blade.
Crack!
Both of Aloys’s legs shattered instantly.
“AAAAAAGGGHHH!”
Aloys cried out in excruciating pain, collapsing to his knees without time to guard.
“Khh… Sister? What is the meaning of this—”
“In case you try to escape.”
“Wha— KHH! What are you saying?!”
“For my sake, you said you prepared an excuse for father?”
Walking past her groaning younger brother, Rianne headed inside the mansion.
“Also, the reason you harmed my husband…”
She cast a low warning as she passed.
“…Had better be well prepared.”
The echoes of her shattered brother’s cries of agony and the soft threat lingered hauntingly in Aloys’s ears.
