Chapter 70

Hunting

Late afternoon.
The sun had clearly tilted toward the west.

Carlson sat at the driver’s seat, and inside the carriage were only Enette and Isaac.
Isaac simply alternated between reading his book and looking out the window, without making much conversation with her.

Enette felt awkward and uncomfortable being alone with Isaac.
He was her savior, the one who had saved her life—
but the gap in status was too great for her to feel at ease around him.

A noble and a maid.

With a single word from Isaac, Enette could lose her life and have no grounds to protest.
Yet Isaac was offering her an opportunity that made no sense—
teaching her magic, keeping her close, treating her kindly.

If she were like the more carefree maids, she would have seized the opportunity without hesitation.
But Enette knew there was no such thing as something for nothing in this world.

That was why she couldn’t help but wonder what the price of this kindness would be.
And with the way people around her kept planting ideas in her head, Isaac’s intentions kept being interpreted in strange ways.

—“Don’t you think that sudden vacation order today was arranged by the young master? Just so he could be with you without drawing attention?”

Clara, a maid excited by the sudden leave, had filled Enette’s head with ridiculous ideas.

—“Why would Master Isaac do something like that?”
—“Because he likes you, obviously.”

Enette calmed herself by thinking Isaac simply needed someone to attend to him.
At the very least, she took pride in her skill as a maid.

But as a sixteen-year-old girl, the nonsense her friend had said kept lingering in her mind.

Regardless—

Isaac either looked out the window or turned the pages of his book.
He said nothing, showed no expression—
as if he were lost in deep thought.

Watching him, Enette found it hard to believe he was only twelve.
He looked around her age, yet carried an air that was difficult to approach.

Boys her age usually had a certain clumsiness and immaturity—
but Isaac had none of that.

If anything, there was a strange weight about him.
Something that couldn’t simply be dismissed as “noble bearing.”
As if he were carrying a heavy burden, yet showing no sign of it…

—“You sly thing, you’ve been talking about Master Isaac every chance you get lately. Get a grip. It’s probably just a young noble’s whim.”

Enette suddenly recalled another friend, Roza.

She had always denied it—but now, it didn’t seem entirely wrong.

A well-dressed noble boy who cared for her was sitting right beside her—
how could she not be conscious of it?

She couldn’t honestly say she had no expectations at all.

“Ah…”

“Hmm?”

At her small, embarrassed sigh, Isaac looked at her.

“It’s nothing.”

Enette lowered her head.

They hadn’t even been in the carriage that long, yet she already felt mentally exhausted.

“If you’re tired, say so. I’ll have us stop for a bit.”
“It’s not that…”
“Then what?”
“I was just wondering what kind of book you’re reading so intently.”

She forced herself to sound curious.
Otherwise, it felt like her thoughts would be exposed.

“This? There’s something I want to experiment with.”

Isaac turned the book toward her.

“What… is this?”
“Anatomy.”
“Ana…tomy?”
“Yeah. It’s the study of the internal structure of living beings through dissection. This is a cross-section of a human head.”
“Th-that’s… blasphemy.”

Enette’s voice trembled.

“In the Old Faith, yes. Humans are considered creations of God, made in His image. The Papal authority forbids it.”
“Then why are you… looking at something like this?”
“Because it’s interesting.”
“Interesting…?”
“Yeah. Want to know?”

“…If it’s not a bother to you, Master.”

Enette nodded reluctantly.
But she soon regretted it.

“…Inside the human brain, there’s an organ called the pineal gland, shaped like a pinecone. Apparently, mages can express their will through it and manipulate mana. If that’s the case, couldn’t there be a way to sever the connection between the pineal gland and mana? Of course, you could physically disrupt the brain or use something like Dimezite, but…”

As if he had been waiting for this, Isaac began speaking without pause.

“…If something like a ‘signal of will’ exists, and there’s some natural sense that can receive it, then that hypothesis becomes meaningless. But if we try to link it to the spirit realm, that’s an entirely different world. So either mana is something created by the intent of some absolute being, or if it’s not tied to intelligence, then it might flow like water—evaporating, freezing, circulating…”

Isaac’s eyes shone as he spoke about magic.

He had never had anyone to openly discuss it with before.
Maintaining his act as a delinquent made it difficult to reveal his knowledge.
Jonas had tutors, and the Count was too busy to indulge in such conversations.

As a result, Isaac had long been starved for discussions about magic.
He had devoted over half a century to it.
Love it or hate it, magic was his life—
and the key to restoring his house.

But as the explanation went on, Enette’s eyes gradually lost focus.

She realized something clearly.

She had little interest in magic.

She was just an ordinary commoner maid.
She had only been drawn to it because Isaac said she had talent—
and because becoming a mage might offer a better life.

“Enette, are you listening?”
“Y-Yes! I’m listening.”
“So that’s how I came to think of it. If the world is like a field of mana and the caster resonates through the pineal gland, then couldn’t the reverse also be possible?”

“……”

Enette tried her best to listen attentively.

But at some point, her consciousness faded.

She had fallen asleep.

Rattle!

How much time had passed?

The carriage jolted violently.

It was normal for a carriage to shake, but this was excessive—
it felt like she was in the air more than sitting down.

“…M-Master? This isn’t the main road.”

Enette opened her eyes and looked outside.

The carriage had left the main road and was entering a path thick with vegetation.
There was a narrow trail, but it was barely wide enough for a carriage.

“You’re awake? We’re going the right way.”
“S-Sorry, Master. It’s been a while since I rode in a carriage this long, so I must have dozed off…”
“It’s fine. It wasn’t exactly an interesting conversation anyway.”

Isaac sounded a bit blunt, but he didn’t scold her.

“If it’s not rude to ask… where are we going?”

Back in Black Goose Village, Isaac hadn’t answered when she asked.
He had only said they were going somewhere far—and that he needed her.

“Ah, I didn’t tell you. There were too many ears back there. We’re heading to Valden.”
“…Valden?”

Enette blinked.

Valden—
a forested region at the southern edge of Vinfelt, connected to the Black Forest.
Lowlands collected water, forming wetlands, where willow trees grew abundantly.
It was also called the Gray Forest, lying between the monster-infested Black Forest and human settlements.

“…There?”

“Why are we going there?”
“We’ll stay there for the night.”
“But there aren’t any inns in Valden. Just a few huts where woodcutters and charcoal burners stay.”
“So we’ll camp.”
“…What?”
“I’m thinking of doing some hunting.”

Drip, drip.

Right on cue, raindrops began tapping against the carriage roof.

“…Good.”

Isaac muttered.

A rainy night.

A covered carriage moved along a muddy road.
Inside were men wearing hoods pulled low, their faces concealed with masks.
It would have been natural to exchange idle chatter, yet not a single one of them spoke.

Creak— creak—

The lantern hanging from the corner of the carriage swayed endlessly.

Beltran von Büchtner sat clutching his staff, staring into the darkness outside.
Cold raindrops occasionally blew in with the wind, heightening his tension.

The Büchtner baronial house, a vassal of Goethe.
Beltran was its second son.

In a family where the eldest son stood firm, there was no place for a second son like him.
Büchtner, located at the southern edge of Goethe, was not a particularly wealthy house either.

There was no investment to spare for Beltran.

His older brother had entered the academy,
but Beltran, even at fifteen, had not been able to enroll.
The family simply could not afford the tuition.

Like their liege Goethe, Büchtner was forbidden from engaging in commerce or expanding military power.
Still, their lands were milder than those in the north and relatively fertile.
Thanks to that, the house barely sustained itself through the taxes of tenant farmers.

But it wasn’t enough for Beltran to rely on.
He was a minor noble who had to prove himself.

That was why he joined Akanlaufer—
a group where he could operate anonymously.

Beltran had confidence in himself.
He had never seen a mage of similar age reach his level.
Even his older brother—two years his senior, admitted to the Royal Academy as top of his class—
had never once beaten him in magical duels.

Not even once.

“…What is it?”

Someone suddenly spoke.

The carriage slowed, then came to a stop.

“There’s a carriage stopped ahead.”
“A carriage?”
“Looks like a noble’s carriage, but there are no horses. Seems like the wheel’s broken.”

The driver frowned, annoyed.

At that moment—

“Be careful!”

Beltran shouted as he sensed something off.

He had felt unfamiliar mana.
The staff in his hand flashed briefly.

Something struck his protective magic and fell to the ground.

“Ice?”

It was too smooth and spherical to be hail.
A projectile that, even if it struck a vital point, had no real killing power.

“Why would they use something like—?”

The moment he voiced the question, Beltran felt something was wrong.

By now, the other Akanlaufer members should have responded.

But the carriage was silent.
As if no attack had occurred at all.

“…Hey.”

Beltran spoke to the man beside him.

No response.

“Hey.”

Swoosh.

Thud!

The man slumped over lifelessly.

Fortunately, he was still breathing.

“…!”

Only then did Beltran realize—

everyone in the carriage had been knocked unconscious.

And their heads all tilted in the same direction—
the direction from which the projectiles had struck.

“…No way.”

Beltran looked at the ice sphere on the floor.

Having expended its mana, it was rapidly melting.

Realizing he was the only one left conscious, his senses sharpened.

Drip… drip… drip…

Raindrops struck the waxed carriage roof.
The sound rang unusually clear.

His heartbeat quickened.
Cold sweat formed on his hands and forehead, his mouth went dry.
The tension made him feel like he might vomit.

Then—

he heard footsteps rushing toward him.

Beltran cast a phase-shift spell.
The lantern hanging on the carriage flew far away.

Darkness fell completely.
The approaching presence became even clearer.

At the same time, his mana perception sharpened to its limit.

The opponent was drawing up mana to the fullest.
Likely intending to approach from behind the carriage and strike at close range.

There was no killing intent—
but he couldn’t just let himself be taken.

The enemy was highly skilled.
If he prepared magic, the opponent would sense his mana immediately.

Beltran quietly moved toward the back of the carriage.

And the moment the opponent appeared—

he swung his staff and smashed down on their head.

With a wet thud, the figure collapsed into the rain-soaked mud.

Whoosh—

Beltran lit a flame spell to identify the attacker.

At this level, it was likely a seasoned mage.
After all, six mages had been taken down without resistance.

He expected an older, cunning figure.

But when the firelight illuminated the face—

his expectations shattered.

“…A girl?”

A young girl lay there, with dark brown hair neatly tied back and a small, pointed nose.

Beltran was stunned.

She looked to be about his age at most.

“…What in the world…”

Who was she?
Why had she done this?
How could someone this young use such precise ice magic and phase-shift magic?

Countless questions raced through his mind—

Then—

another dull impact rang out through the rain.

This time, it hadn’t come from Beltran’s staff.

It came from the back of his own head.

“…Damn.”

Carlson, who had struck the last Akanlaufer member with his pommel, let out a quiet sigh.

“What about Enette? Is she okay?”

Isaac arrived a moment later.

“It seems so.”

Carlson replied, then asked,

“Shall I kill him?”