[525] An Ally (1)
If a family ranked within the top twenty of the Tormia Kingdom's commercial order, they could be said to own a trading house known across the continent.
For example, Dante's Aerhain family founded Aerhain Shipping, building a transport network that reached not only the continent but the south and the Middle East, handling seven percent of the world's freight—placing them fourteenth in the economic rankings.
That was likely the result of the Tormia Kingdom's long-maintained diplomatic neutrality backed by military and political effort, but among those families there was one that had grown in a peculiarly different way.
It was the Ardino family, where Miro was headed now.
Unlike other families who built glittering mansions in the city, their main house sat deep in the Jijeo Mountains that ring the capital Vashka to the north. Just knowing that was enough to make them feel secretive.
"Fairly deep in, aren't we?"
Arrius, carrying Shirone on his back and following Miro, clicked his tongue.
Armin and Kuan were off handling other duties suited to their talents, so Arrius was the only one accompanying Miro.
"They weren't originally a merchant house."
The closer they got to the main house, the less pleased Miro's expression became.
Miro was human—of course she had feelings—but this wasn't the sort of emotional fluctuation you'd expect from someone schooled in non-attachment.
"Worried about something? That's a little surprising."
"The Ardino family is different in character from other merchant houses."
"I've seen Ardino Publishing's seal a lot while studying magic. Still, ranking twentieth just on books is impressive."
"They don't only publish. Being able to handle translations, proofreading, and edits of private works beyond the association's official publications means they possess vast magical knowledge."
"That's fortunate for Shirone."
Miro kept walking along the mountain path.
"Yes. But when I say they're different in character, I don't mean that."
Arrius looked up from his distant thoughts.
"The Ardinos split off from the Adrias family long ago."
"Adrias...?"
"That's my family."
The Adrias family, proud of its long history, was famous for asceticism.
Though noble, they accumulated no wealth; their retainers took up homesteads in the mountains and lived on the bare minimum of water and food.
From such an environment it wasn't strange that a genius like Miro would emerge.
They pursued ultimate stability beyond desire and suffering.
Their insight pierced the truths of the world and taught without discrimination across borders and races.
That was why the kingdom had gone so far as to grant the Adrias family a title despite their uselessness to state affairs—to make sure they remained subjects.
"One day, though, someone in the previous generation began to doubt the ascetic life."
Arrius, who'd indulged in worldly pleasures as one of the Seven Great Mages, understood perfectly.
"That makes sense. I don't think I could live like that."
"Of course the clan voted unanimously against it. In response, that elder left the family, took a new name, and melted into society. That became the Ardino family. Using Adrias' unique knowledge and insight, they amassed wealth and are now a huge trading house ranked twentieth. But most of their real income actually comes through dark channels."
"Dark channels... meaning?"
"Magic. It's the most lucrative business in the world and a field few can enter. The publishing business is just a front."
Arrius understood why Miro had looked so unsettled.
"So that means such a family is related to us. After all, the same blood runs through them."
"It wasn't exactly hostile between us. Sure, the public heaped scorn on the Ardinos, but among our side there wasn't much friction. Worldly philosophy serves a purpose, and at the time Ardino wasn't yet drawing in dark funds."
"Now it's different?"
Miro clicked her tongue and scowled with one eye.
"What I learned recently is that things started going wrong after I entered Istas and created the dimensional wall. When people talk about the Judgment of the Twenty they focus mostly on me, but a lot more was happening out of sight."
"That makes sense. It was an event that decided humanity's fate."
It wasn't that those matters were any less important—only that because they weren't centered on Miro people didn't look back. Still, the Judgment of the Twenty and the ripple it sent across the world were immense.
"When the proposition that the Adrias family saved humanity took hold, Ardino took the brunt of the backlash. Gossip, business feuds, political strife—it rained down on them. They were called money-grubbing misers, traitors to humanity, deserters. All that pressure must have been heavy. So they eventually started tapping into dark funds."
"Would they be blaming you, Miro-nim?"
"Hard to say. It's been almost twenty years since we last met. We'll see when I go."
After about thirty minutes of hiking, the two reached the Ardino estate.
The buildings blended into nature; they were the only remaining trace of the Adrias temperament before the split.
The iron gate was unmaintained—thick vines chased across it and there wasn't even a lock.
Approaching the gloomy house, Miro struck the iron handle of the wooden door hard.
Not long after, the door opened and a middle-aged man with hollow eyes answered.
"What is it? Were you a—"
The man's face, which had been smiling, drained of color as if he'd seen a ghost when he recognized Miro.
"You... you..."
"It's been a while, Enrique."
Enrique Ardino.
The current head of the Ardino family and Miro's cousin, who had often hung out with her as a child.
"Miro, is that really you?"
Enrique's surprised eyes suddenly calmed.
"I figured this might happen someday. Maybe sooner than I thought?"
"You're full of it. You don't have an ounce of insight."
Enrique licked his lips.
"Honestly, I thought you were dead. Still, you haven't aged a bit."
"You've got a bigger belly. Ugh, look at all that wobbling. What are you going to do about it?"
"Wha—!"
Enrique flushed as Miro grabbed his paunch, and for a moment his younger self flickered across his face.
But time is time, and after a brief exchange the distance returned to his expression.
"Why have you come?"
"How can you say that? After twenty years, that's what you say to someone who's returned?"
"Only because it has been twenty years."
Despite the unspoken pressure to leave, Miro stayed until Enrique, looking into her eyes, clicked his tongue and turned back into the house.
"Come in. Eat something before you go."
Inside the mansion, Miro let out a bitter laugh at how little had changed in twenty years.
"What's this about? I heard you were a major recluse."
"It's not easy. Both the trading house and now the kingdom are watching. With Adrias gone, it's Ardino's turn."
A brief sadness passed over Miro's face and left.
Enrique flopped his fat body onto a worn leather sofa, pulled out a cigarette, and a maid brought tea.
"I didn't come to eat."
"Miro."
Enrique nervously stubbed out the cigarette after only a single drag and leaned forward.
"Could you at least eat before you go? I'm trying—I'm the only one who'll even talk to you. Everyone in the house hates you. Please, just leave."
"But you're the head of the family, aren't you? If the head says that, who's going to argue?"
"Sigh."
Enrique sank back, exhausted.
"You were always headstrong. I told you not to, but you never listened."
"But it was fun because of me, wasn't it?"
Enrique looked up at the ceiling and let out a short, hollow laugh.
"Yeah. So what is it you came for?"
"Where's 'Geumdong'? Isn't it vacation right now?"
Enrique raised an eyebrow.
"Our son? Why are you asking about him all of a sudden? He hasn't even graduated yet—good-for-nothing."
"I heard, so I thought his aunt should give him a talking-to."
While Enrique hummed and mulled it over, Miro smiled meaningfully.
After all, she was the one who'd returned from heaven.
A man with the Ardino family's wealth and connections couldn't possibly be unaware of that.
"I don't know what's wrong, but the boy's in a room on the second floor. He hasn't come downstairs in days."
"I'll go see him."
Miro felt there was no point in dragging things out once she'd gauged the family's mood.
As she and Arrius headed for the stairs, the sound of a cigarette being lit came from the sofa.
"…What do you plan to do now?"
Miro paused at the foot of the stairs and turned.
She couldn't see it, but Enrique's face, exhaling cigarette smoke, was more serious than she had ever seen.
"Miro, you know by now, don't you? No matter how strong you are, the world will only use you."
He hesitated a moment before continuing.
"Change your family name. Come into the Ardino family. I'll protect you. I'll take responsibility for you."
Miro turned away as if the offer wasn't worth hearing.
"This is the choice I made."
"Are you still rationalizing it like that?"
Enrique sprang up.
"Honestly, when you came back I was shocked! Not shocked that you returned—because they'd have investigated! The entire Adrias clan was purged! You broke the only promise you gave us!"
"That was also a choice my family made."
Enrique struck his chest in frustration.
"How can you be so cruel? Don't you feel any desire for revenge, any resentment toward the world? Ever since you saved humanity, our family has been under pressure! Do you know why? The world fears us! They used us when it suited them, and now they're afraid a second or third Miro might appear! That's why Adrias disappeared and why we went underground!"
Enrique stepped off the sofa and approached Miro.
"You shouldn't expect much from humans. When they need something they spit out sweet words, and when it's over they become crueler than any beast. Aren't you bothered that your sacrifice and the time you gave were wasted?"
"No, I'm not bothered."
Miro slowly raised her head and smiled at Enrique.
"Because that's what Adrias is."
Enrique sagged as if the wind had gone out of him.
Once of one blood—how could they be so different?
"…I'll have some meat pie baked. Come down when it's ready."
It had been one of Miro's favorite foods. Enrique turned the conversation and disappeared into the living room. Miro climbed the stairs and turned into the right-angled corridor.
The wooden-floored hallway smelled of antiques.
Recalling old memories, she reached the fourth room and stopped herself from knocking, letting out a playful laugh instead.
"Geumdong! What are you doing?"
She flung the door open to find a tall, handsome young man at a makeshift lab bench, washing experimental glassware.
He turned calmly at the intrusion, but when he saw Miro his eyes wavered.
Seeing how much he had grown, Miro felt the gap of the twenty years when she had not existed.
"Well, you've really grown. Do you remember me?"
"Oh... so it was someone after all."
The man flicked a triangular flask into the sink and held out his hand as if making a toast, smiling beautifully.
"Long time no see, Aunt."
He was Fermi Ardino, ranked first at the Alpheas School of Magic.