Isaac was served both a meal and tea at Baron Volten's mansion, but he didn't particularly feel like a guest.
Rather, all these formalities seemed like a way of urging him to get to the main topic quickly.
Clink.
Isaac set down his teacup.
His reason for coming here was to track down the mercenary group suspected of attempting to assassinate the princess.
Of course, he had hidden this true purpose from Baron Volten.
"Millie Marceau was my friend."
Isaac's reason for coming was simple.
Before the attack, he had already made an appointment with Baron Volten, making it natural for him to visit.
"She used to work in Helmut's kitchen. If I recall correctly, it's been… about six years now."
"Hmm, 'if you recall correctly'?"
"..."
Isaac didn't bother answering.
His silence was answer enough.
"I want to find Millie's family. At the very least, I'd like to be able to visit her gravestone in Evergard."
His sincerity was evident in his somber expression.
Baron Volten stroked his thick beard with his fingers before nodding.
"Understood. I'll send people to gather information."
"Thank you, Baron Volten."
Isaac stood up and shook hands with the baron.
The firm handshake gave off a subtle sense of hierarchy being established.
'Does he think he's found my weakness?'
Of course, if he could find Millie's family, that would be fortunate.
But he needed to separate personal matters from official business.
Millie's family was a personal concern, while the attempted assassination of the princess was a national crisis.
"Do you have accommodations? If necessary, you're welcome to stay at my mansion."
"No, I couldn't possibly impose. I've already booked an inn. Right?"
Isaac turned to the Grandmaster, who had been standing behind him the whole time.
The Grandmaster, struggling to maintain her expression, awkwardly tried to force a smile.
"Y-yes… We've made reservations."
"Hmm, is that so? What a shame. I wanted to speak with Baron Logan a bit more."
"Your offer is greatly appreciated, but since I'll be staying a while to search for Millie's family, I thought it would be inappropriate to impose."
Politeness and proper etiquette.
What he had learned in Helmut was certainly proving useful, though Baron Volten wasn't someone who particularly cared for such things.
"Haha, what imposition? The entire kingdom is indebted to Baron Logan this time."
A glint flickered in Baron Volten's eyes.
Because of the princess's attempted assassination, Isaac Logan's reputation had risen even further.
"From the North, to Helmut's Sword Festival, to Blackson, and now this banquet… Baron Logan, your journey truly resembles that of a legendary hero."
"You flatter me. None of it was intentional."
"And that is precisely what makes a hero."
As Isaac stepped outside the mansion, Baron Volten bid him farewell, assuring him that he would contact him immediately if he learned anything.
Once outside, the Grandmaster immediately questioned him.
"You spoke up just to get a reaction, didn't you?"
"This isn't the time for that."
"Sigh… Fine. I'll let it slide for now."
"..."
Seated in the carriage once more, the Grandmaster pulled out a cigarette, though she only held it in her mouth without lighting it.
"So, what do you think? Did you learn anything?"
"One thing's for sure—"
Isaac, looking uneasy, nodded.
"He knows something is off."
Baron Volten was already aware that he was being suspected.
Yet, he remained calm and composed.
Why?
His confidence didn't seem like mere empty bravado.
The two rode the carriage toward their inn.
They had deliberately chosen one located some distance from the baron's mansion, allowing them more freedom to move.
Once inside his room, Isaac thought to himself.
'Time to head out right away.'
Though he was already tired from the journey, this wasn't a pleasure trip.
He needed to start gathering information immediately.
Creak.
The Grandmaster entered the room.
"…Don't tell me you actually came to argue about that earlier incident?"
"What do you take me for?"
The Grandmaster responded indifferently, shrugging her shoulders.
"We're being followed. Probably since we left the baron's mansion. What do you plan to do?"
"A tail, huh? Since it's so blatant, that actually works in our favor."
If there had been no reaction at all, it would have been harder to gauge their intentions.
"Let's use them. We need to make them think we're staying at the inn the whole time."
"Misinformation? That sounds quite appealing. How do you intend to do it?"
"I have a method. But you'll need to go along with it."
"Hmm, as long as you don't make me speak formally, I'll allow it."
"You don't need to say anything. Just follow my lead."
The moment she opened her mouth, everything would fall apart.
***
The innkeeper was preparing dinner.
The inn provided meals for its guests, though "meals" were nothing more than a simple soup made by throwing whatever ingredients were available into a pot.
"Innkeeper."
Just as he was in the middle of stirring the pot, a rare out-of-town guest called for him, making him turn around.
Beside the guest stood a woman, her head lowered shyly as she bit her lip.
'Oh?'
"The mattress is too dirty. Do you have any spare sheets or blankets?"
That wasn't a service the inn typically provided.
'Judging by his looks, he's obviously a noble. It's only natural he'd be picky.'
With such a refined appearance, the man was undoubtedly from a well-off family. The innkeeper, without hesitation, fetched a freshly washed blanket from earlier that day and handed it over.
"Please use it well."
"I can't promise that."
'Tsk, how blatant.'
Well, considering his face and status, he was probably the type who changed women every night.
Clicking his tongue, the innkeeper approached a man sitting at a table on the first floor and whispered.
"Looks like he's taking the night off. He asked for a blanket because the bed was dirty."
"A blanket?"
"You saw the woman with him, didn't you? You know what that means."
"Haah."
The man sighed and nodded.
He wondered if he'd get a little extra for his efforts, but all he got was a calm remark.
"The baron will be pleased."
That was all.
Even so, the innkeeper grinned and rubbed his hands together.
"Oh my, anything for the baron!"
He bowed several times before returning to his work.
The man looked up at the stairs where Isaac had gone and clicked his tongue.
'Tsk, in the end, he's just like the rest of them.'
He had heard that Baron was originally a commoner.
But in the end, a noble was still a noble.
'The baron is different.'
Baron Volten was a true revolutionary.
A commander who led everyone and the enforcer of strict laws that kept the city safe.
Although he had been ordered to keep an eye on them, it seemed like tonight, the guests would tire themselves out and fall asleep after relieving their travel fatigue.
***
"Any last words? Out of mercy, I'll deliver them to your ex-wife."
"I-I should be leaving, shouldn't I?!"
Just like the people downstairs had assumed.
The bed they were on was currently in the middle of something both intense and passionate.
The Grandmaster's eyes burned fiercely as he pounced on Isaac the moment he entered the room.
"Never in my life… have I been treated like this!"
"I-I mean, when a man and a woman share a room at an inn, there's only one conclusion people will draw! Thanks to that, we won't have to step outside, and no one will suspect a thing!"
Isaac had fled all the way onto the bed, pressing his back firmly against the wall.
Even though the Grandmaster was genuinely angry for once, he refrained from taking action—probably because he understood the logic behind it.
"Haa… Fine. But next time, if you plan something like this, explain it to me in advance."
"I figured if I told you, you wouldn't agree to it… But are you really okay with this?"
Just in case, he asked.
But he didn't expect an answer.
"I've solved most of my problems in life with a sword."
"...."
"And I probably will in the future too."
In other words, rather than resorting to such tricks, she would rather just kill them all with her sword.
"...Let's just go already."
***
It took about three days for Isaac and the Grandmaster to reach Volten, but that was because they were traveling by carriage.
Sharen, on the other hand, had been riding a horse alone, making for a much lighter and potentially faster journey.
Or so it should have been.
"Don't be sick, pleeease!"
Looking down at her panting horse, Sharen whimpered. The horse had suddenly collapsed mid-gallop.
Thanks to Helmut's naturally sturdy physique, she hadn't been injured when she fell, but now she had no way to reach Volten.
"I don't wanna run the whole way!"
She shook the horse back and forth, trying to get it to stand, but it showed no sign of moving.
"This is so unfair! This is all Isaac's fault! Isaac, you idiot! You moron! Five Crimson Flames for you!"
Sharen shouted, her voice trembling with frustration.
She was already deep in the mountain path, with nothing in sight. It was pitch dark.
She didn't want to sleep outdoors, and the eerie darkness of the mountains unsettled her.
"Get uuuup!"
She should have rested before setting off.
Just as she was drowning in regret, she heard another sound besides her horse's ragged breathing.
Clatter, clatter.
"Hoofbeats?!"
Sharen bolted upright.
A group of riders was coming toward her from the same road she had taken.
"Hey! Over here!"
She waved her arms and blocked their path. She was even prepared to draw her greatsword if needed.
'It's fine. I'm cute, after all!'
She was confident that her adorable looks would win them over.
There were about six of them.
Each was armed and riding at a fairly urgent pace.
They came to a stop in front of her.
Skipping any greetings, Sharen immediately shouted,
"Hey! Can you take me with you? Just to the nearest city!"
At her request, the man at the front dismounted.
He had the distinct scent of sunlight, typical of those from the south.
A longsword hung from his waist, and his face had a somewhat roguish air.
"Please! My horse suddenly collapsed!"
But to Sharen, they were nothing more than a lifeline that had arrived just in time.
"Ahem. My lady, I am Belington, the leader of the Bellingwaltz Mercenary Corps. May I ask who you are?"
There was only one reason why he was being so polite.
'Holy shit! A Helmut?!'
Even before she answered, they had already realized who she was.
Red hair. The greatsword on her back.
Honestly, it would be weirder not to recognize her.
'What the hell is a Helmut doing here?!'
'What kind of nightmare is this in the middle of the night?!'
"Ahaha, I'm Sharen Helmut! Just take me to the nearest city, and I'll reward you properly!"
Sharen declared confidently.
The mercenaries exchanged glances.
'We were heading back to Volten anyway.'
'It might be better to just take her along and let her go naturally.'
'If she finds out about the goods we're transporting, we're screwed.'
With silent eye contact, the Bellingwaltz mercenaries reached a consensus.
Belington put on a friendly smile and nodded.
"A mercenary group, after all. If you're offering a reward, we'll gladly consider you our guest."
'You're asking for a reward?!'
'Boss! That's too much!'
'You idiots, this is the smart move!'
While the other mercenaries looked anxious, Belington remained confident.
If mercenaries didn't ask for payment, it would seem even more suspicious.
"Oh...."
Sharen nodded and smiled as she spoke.
"I've already paid the reward!"
"…What?"
The mercenaries blinked in confusion. What was she talking about?
Sharen beamed even brighter.
"You're still alive, aren't you?"
'This crazy woman—!'
'Goddamn Helmut!'
'Is she a knight or a thug?!'
'These lunatics…!'
The reputation of Helmut was well known. They were called knights among knights.
But where there is light, there is always shadow.
Biting his teeth, Bellington struggled to maintain his smile in response to Sharen's shamelessness.
"Ah, I see! Yes, of course! Thank you so much!"
"Right? Now, you get on behind him. I'll take your horse!"
"Understood!"
"One of you, bring my horse along. Got it?"
"Of course! No problem at all!"
Bellington promptly handed over the horse he'd been riding to Sharen.
"It's too high."
The saddle was too high for her to mount on her own, so Bellington reached out to help her up.
"Nice! Let's go!"
Once again, the sound of galloping hooves echoed through the night.
As the cool night breeze brushed against her, Sharen smiled brightly, recalling a memory.
[Sharen, don't act recklessly outside, okay? And don't put too much pressure on Isaac either.]
—Oh, come on, Sis! I got it!
It was right before she left, standing at the front gate.
Liana, who had defeated their eldest brother, Lohengrin, twenty times in a row in duels to claim the position of family head, was speaking to Sharen with a worried expression.
[Sigh, I'm sorry I couldn't give you much allowance. We're not exactly well off right now.]
Rebuilding the mansion alone had been a massive expense, but that wasn't even the main issue.
The family's finances had already been strained for a long time. The expenses of hosting the Sword Festival were no joke, and on top of that, they had to cover funeral costs and compensation for the fallen.
For the first time in history, Helmut was tightening its belt.
—It's okay, Sis! I can support myself!
[Do you even know what self-sufficiency means? Impressive.]
—…
[Hey! Don't say dumb things!]
Helmuts had sharp hearing.
Perhaps because of that, Lohengrin, who had been sweating as he swung his greatsword outside, stomped over furiously.
[Oh, for God's sake.]
—Ew.
Both younger sisters pinched their noses in disgust.
But Lohengrin didn't care. He clenched his fists and declared,
[If anyone asks you for money, just say this—"Isn't staying alive enough?!" That's how I handled most situations.]
—Ohhh.
[…Sharen, do not use that line.]
Liana warned her sternly.
But unfortunately, Sharen didn't quite remember that part.
Or maybe she just chose to forget it.
'Huh. That idiot can be useful sometimes!'
Smiling in satisfaction, Sharen urged her horse forward.