Chapter 368 – Ownerless Land (2)
"Damn... Not even letting me land a single hit, it really is you, Adrian."
Breathing heavily, Keirel flung her sword aside.
Sniffling, she wiped her eyes and collapsed onto the remaining chair. Since even her claws were retracted, it was clear she had calmed down.
Adrian sat beside Keirel, carrying two half-wet glasses and an unopened bottle of whiskey.
She accepted the moderately filled glass and downed it in one gulp.
Clink.
Then, with a small flame, the tobacco began to burn away.
Inhaling the smoke deeply, Keirel exhaled with a sigh that trembled on the verge of tears.
"...I know you're not good at getting along with others. That's just your nature. That's why you're a troublemaker. But still, I thought we were close."
"I know."
"Really? Then why did you disappear without a word? And now, why suddenly show up? Huh? Tell me, for what kind of shitty reason───!"
"Master has passed away."
At those words, Keirel's body jolted.
Her eyes widened as if torn apart. Her breath quickened without her realizing it. The anger vanished without a trace.
Barely suppressing a flood of emotions, she moved her lips.
"Uncle Raymon... has passed away? Why?"
"He was murdered."
"Lies."
"..."
"Don't lie to me! There's no way Uncle could've been killed! Not with you, Adrian, right there with him!!"
"It's my fault."
Adrian spoke in a low voice, reciting the past in clipped tones.
"That day, I lost to an intruder who had come to our hideout. Master tried to help me, and he was crippled, and in the end, he lost his life."
It was a chain of shocks.
Who was Adrian?
One of the Four Greats of the Central Continent. A monster who wielded sword strikes nearing the pinnacle of speed.
And the one who had raised him was Raymon, the Flawless.
'But how could....'
Keirel, who knew better than anyone just how strong the two of them were, could only be dumbfounded.
She couldn't believe it, nor did she want to. But, unfortunately, Adrian Chambers, the Heavenly Sword, was not the sort of man to make such a cruel joke.
Suddenly, memories from over a decade ago surfaced.
Keirel, forever interfering with thugs trying to rob citizens.
The ambush from the back-alley gang that saw her as a thorn in their side.
A dagger pierced her flank, her left eye half-destroyed.
After a desperate struggle, she killed a few and managed to escape, but the fatal wounds remained.
For beings that were not human, the miracles of the Luas Church did not apply. Besides, there weren't many churches in the Ownerless Land to begin with.
If she wanted to live, she needed a potion, but she had no money whatsoever. And if she went into the city, she would have been exposed immediately.
She relied on her innate healing ability to barely cling to life, but that was all.
Pus gathered, inflammation spread, the festering wound worsened.
Flies buzzed, ready to lay eggs, rats wrinkled their noses at the smell of blood.
She was, quite literally, on the verge of dying a terrible death.
───Master, there's a cat here dying.
───Hmm, the infection is too severe for a potion alone. Let's take her quickly.
That was when it happened.
It was then that she met the boy Adrian and his master, Raymon.
That was the beginning of their bond.
Crash.
The glass in Keirel's hand shattered into pieces.
A low growl rumbled from her throat.
Her beastlike face, a mixture of cat and human, twisted into something savage.
"Who is it, who's the bastard that killed Uncle Raymon. What about revenge?"
"I can't tell you the details right now. But, it's connected to something, and I need your help."
"Say it."
"I need to register an item at Gargant's auction house, but the conditions are blocking me."
Rather than ask about the reason, Keirel spoke only of the part where she could offer assistance.
"If it's valuable enough to be listed there... then it must be that clause. At Gargant, unless you invest or force the host, a Transcendent, into debt, registration is impossible."
"Is there a way?"
"There's someone who fits the conditions. Their business is on the verge of collapse, but if the Heavenly Sword steps in, it'll be more than enough."
"Sorry, but I can't reveal that I'm alive."
"I know. The weird metal mask and robe hiding your face made it obvious. I wasn't talking about your name, but your strength."
With Adrian's ability, even while hiding his true skill, he could easily subdue most opponents.
Such was the judgment of Keirel, an old acquaintance and ally.
"But, there's one thing I'm curious about."
"What is it?"
"The person you came here with. Who are they?"
Adrian was not one to form parties.
He was stubborn, and strong enough to not need one.
He never spoke with respect to anyone except his master, regardless of status, and rather than build ties with nobles or royals, he preferred to hone his sword.
But now, a companion?
She couldn't help but ask.
And to that natural question, Adrian replied with confidence.
"He's the one I serve."
"Oh, I see...."
Nodding along, Keirel's eyes suddenly widened.
"What?"
***
'This man....'
Keirel flicked her tail lightly, stealing a glance at the stranger seated across from her.
A human clad in a shabby robe that concealed his face and body.
Though not large, his build was trained. At his waist, however, there was no sign of short sword or longsword.
Sniff sniff. A fresh vitality pricked her nose.
And judging by the numerous priceless accessories on both hands, he was a Mage... yes, surely a young Mage.
'Strange. I can't feel anything from him, so he doesn't seem strong.'
But, separately, he looked immensely wealthy.
The son of a noble family, perhaps?
All the more puzzling.
For a swordsman who had earned both infamy and fame across the Central Continent would never be bought by mere money.
Then was it some exalted status that enthralled him? Impossible.
Given the chance, Adrian was the type who would cut down kings or nobles without hesitation.
And yet.
"My lord, this is Keirel of the Cabaret tribe. A fairly well-known beastkin in the Ownerless Land."
There was sincerity in his voice.
It was the same tone as a knight swearing fealty.
He even used honorifics, despite the man not being his master.
'This is insane.'
Never in her wildest imagination had she pictured something like this. Yet here it was, unfolding right before her eyes.
Regardless, she had to observe.
If she wanted to understand even a little of this mysterious man.
Keirel cleared her throat softly.
"Ehem, Cabaret is my race. Simply put, I'm a cat beastkin. Since the Ownerless Land is my homeland, I just settled down here and live as I please."
"I've heard the rough story from Adrian."
Though he spoke down to her, it didn't offend.
From the man's voice, a natural sense of pressure could be felt.
At the very least, he had to be a noble or a royal... or someone of equal worth.
'If he won't reveal his name, and keeps his face hidden, then he must be someone famous?'
Suspicious, suspicious indeed!
The doubt in Keirel's heart grew ever deeper.
Still, the conversation did not stop.
"...I heard you wish to fulfill the conditions to register an item at Gargant's auction house. And, as it happens, there is a family that fits perfectly."
"Where is it?"
"Right here, in this city, Arein."
The so-called Arein family.
A lineage that had ruled the city in the Ownerless Land for six years.
"They used to be a prestigious merchant guild in Gargant, but after being pressured too heavily, they lost in competition and were half-forced out of Gargant. At that time, they handed over their unsellable shares and assets to a Transcendent, in return obtaining auction registration rights. Afterwards, they came down to the Ownerless Land and claimed the lordship. They were quite shrewd."
For something received from a Transcendent, the process was absurdly simple.
At the man's silence, Keirel shrugged her shoulders.
"Though it's hosted by a Transcendent, the registration right itself isn't exactly priceless. Such conditions exist mainly to raise the auction's prestige and lend it a special character."
Fwooh.
Drawing on her tobacco, she continued.
"So if you use the Arein family, you can access the auction house. I know the procedures well. But, there's one problem."
"A problem?"
"Last year, the lord died, of old age. His only son, Liam Arein, inherited the seat... but the timing was awful. A war broke out between the neighboring lords. And the vassals, who didn't trust the young lord, nearly all fled."
"Then..."
"Yes, that's right. Soon, Liam will die. His family's line will end, and the registration right will vanish with it."
Keirel glanced slyly at Adrian.
"Of course, if you two were to step in, it would be different."
Liam's survival.
It was simple, clear, and left no reason not to act.
First meet him, and speak. In short, it was a proposal for a deal.
The man immediately rose to his feet.
Startled, Keirel stubbed her cigarette into the ashtray.
"You're quite hasty. But, it would be better not to go right now. Liam should be meeting with an envoy from a neighboring lord."
"An envoy. I doubt the negotiation will go well."
"The gap in strength is too great, of course. This is just Liam's desperate struggle. No matter what he says, no matter what promises he makes, death remains unchanged.... Anyway, I'll arrange the meeting, so let's go tomorrow."
If they drew attention for nothing, troublesome conflict might erupt.
Keirel wanted things handled more discreetly, and indeed that was the rational course.
To that, the man, Verden, replied.
"Why should I?"
***
In the Ownerless Land, those who played at being power-holders were usually rough, violent, and cunning.
Only that way could they prevent others from daring to challenge them. If one looked too weak, countless annoyances would come swarming.
But Liam Arein, lord of the city of Arein, did not belong to that kind.
Like his father before him, he kept to the line of virtue. Moreover, he carried an ardent sense of duty, and a will and spirit befitting his youth.
Rather than pressure and subjugation, he sought harmony and compromise.
Yet, when his father died, the retainers who had long stood by him immediately fled to save their own lives.
Worse, some even sold information about Arein's misfortune to other territories...
In the end, the only one left by Liam's side was a young maid with nowhere else to go, Mires.
But even she, he could not protect.
"Kyaaah...!"
The envoy of the neighboring lord sneered, hurling his teacup aside.
The hot tea spilled through the air, splashing over Mires. Fortunately, she suffered no real burns, but the mood remained heavy.
"So. You want to make a pact with our lord?"
His arrogant voice, his despicably smug expression.
Even so, Liam clenched his fists and bowed his head in humiliation.
"There is still much property left to dispose of. I will pay tribute monthly. In return, please exclude Arein from the war for just one year. After that, I will yield the lordship of the city."
"Oh? And why should we? We could just conquer and take everything. Isn't that right?"
"...That way, there would at least be some loss. And, wouldn't it also inconvenience you, sir envoy?"
Quietly, Liam slid forward an envelope.
Inside, the thick wad of cash made the envoy lick his lips.
"Well now, even if our lord agrees to withdraw, the other lords won't sit idle."
That was true, but the lord who had sent this envoy also would not simply stand by.
They wouldn't watch passively as the city of Arein and its surrounding lands fell to another.
This negotiation was akin to a defensive pact.
"I beg of you."
"Hmm, well, I'll report it to my lord... Whether it succeeds or not, let's speak again next time."
Which meant: prepare another bribe.
Though fury welled up inside, Liam managed to keep his expression steady.
'I must buy time, at all costs.'
Not to turn his father's legacy into cash, but to find a way to defend the city.
Even in the worst situation, Liam had not given up on Arein.
For if the neighboring lords swallowed Arein whole, then the citizens... then Mires would surely face a fate too obvious to state.
And even if they fled, brigands would torture and kill them for their wealth anyway.
Survival, and duty.
Liam bit his lip.
That was when it happened.
Bang!
Suddenly, the reception room doors burst open, and uninvited guests strode in.
Three in total.
Two wore robes, making them unrecognizable, but the last was a familiar face.
'Keirel?'
The fierce beastkin who styled herself as Arein's vigilante.
Not a complete stranger, they shared at least a bit of acquaintance... but he had never invited her to this meeting.
As he blinked in dazed confusion, one of the robed figures, Verden, stepped forward.
"You are the lord of Arein?"
"Y-Yes, I am...."
The answer slipped out before he realized. Somehow, it felt like he had to answer.
Meanwhile, the envoy, watching the sudden intrusion, contorted his face.
Irritation welled.
Glaring, he slammed his seat and barked.
"Who the hell are you bastards, to dare───"
Boom!
From a casual flick of the hand, a shockwave burst forth.
The envoy was hurled back, crashing against the wall before collapsing onto the cold floor.
He had only fainted, but he must have bitten his tongue, for bright red blood streamed from his mouth.
Verden took the envoy's vacated seat.
Startled, Mires clapped her hands over her mouth.
Horrified, Liam forced out his trembling voice.
"Y-You attacked the envoy...! Why, why would you do such a thing?! Who in the world are you!"
"We are not bandits, so no need to shout."
Verden spoke.
"We came to make a deal, Liam Arein."
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