Chapter 110: A Battle of Sincerity
There was no need to dwell on Arrendt for long because something else had happened. Read the translation only on itsladygrey.com.
“An official letter of cooperation?”
A document requesting assistance had arrived from the Imperial family. The content was straightforward—it concerned the Dead Land. Recently, a Dead Land had been discovered, and this time it was quite extensive. Furthermore, it extended over an estate, resulting in casualties.
Darkness appeared irregularly, but since all previous incidents had occurred in the forest, large-scale casualties were rare. In this case, however, there were many casualties due to a significant number of berserk monsters, causing distress in the nearby estates as well.
Thus, it was understandable that the Imperial family was asking for help; it was worth their pride. After all, no family knew monsters better than Heilon. If Abel were here, the emperor would have made him handle it. Read the translation only on itsladygrey.com.
Celine, who was beside me, asked, “My lady, are you going to go?”
“I have to.”
The Imperial family had requested it, so I couldn’t refuse unless something more pressing arose.
“I’m going to investigate it anyway.”
Besides, the Heilon family was not the only one being asked for cooperation; it was said that Eunice, the saint, had also been approached due to the extent of the damage to the estates.
I wished I could talk to her.
Anyway, this wasn’t so bad.
Then someone knocked on my door.
“Miss, are you inside?”
Celine opened the door at my signal. It was Isaac.
“Sir Isaac. What’s the matter?”
Isaac looked a little restless. “I apologize for disturbing your work, miss, but… there’s a person here. I don’t know whether to identify him as a guest or a scoundrel, and I’m afraid only you can sort it out.”
Celine and I exchanged puzzled glances. He couldn’t tell if he was a guest or a scoundrel?
“If you determine that he’s a scoundrel, we would expel him immediately.”
Heilon people were merciless to intruders, so it was clear that this person was not an ordinary guest. Read the translation only on itsladygrey.com.
“Where is the guest?”
“First, we dragged him into the drawing room… No, I brought him there.”
Who the hell could it be? Instead of asking more questions, I decided to just go there. After all, if it was someone who could be easily dealt with, the Heilon Knights would have taken care of it already.
***
The butler showed me a crumpled piece of paper before I entered the drawing room. It bore Abel’s seal, and the message was simple:
[If you’re not sure, ask Sigren.]
What the hell was he talking about? Anyway, I decided to trust Abel; he usually had good judgment. I instructed the butler to report this to the Imperial Palace before I entered the drawing room. Read the translation only on itsladygrey.com.
“…”
Sitting in the drawing room was a man who appeared to be in his mid-twenties. His light armor was covered in monster skin, and his feet were clad in worn yet sturdy boots. A black waterproof coat draped over his body. Seeing him in front of me, I understood why Isaac had said he couldn’t determine whether this guy was a guest or a ruffian. He certainly didn’t look like a nobleman; rather, he resembled a traveler—a traveler who carried a paper with Abel’s seal on it.
First things first, I maintained my manners. “Who are you, Sir?”
The man turned his head slowly. He looked a bit wild but had a very handsome face. His skin was slightly tanned, and both his eyes and hair were golden. It was definitely the first time I had ever seen this face, yet somehow I felt an odd sense of familiarity. Who the hell was he?
The man stood up slowly. When he rose, I realized he was taller and broader than I had expected, forcing me to look up at him. Read the translation only on itsladygrey.com.
Let’s reconsider my initial impression of him as a ‘traveler.’ That physique seemed harder than rock. Judging by his build, it was clear he had fought many battles. A mercenary?
The man looked straight at me.
This was not a very favorable position to be in while being scrutinized.
“Are you Fiona Heilon?”
Was he really speaking so informally on our first meeting? Alright, I could manage to use honorifics a couple more times—just out of respect for Abel.
“Yes, who are you, Sir?”
“You don’t know me?”
“Please tell me your name.”
“You really don’t know?”
How could I possibly know his name when I didn’t even recognize him? I grinned.
“Name, please.”
The man crossed his arms, regarding me with a disapproving expression. Read the translation only on itsladygrey.com.
“I guess you’ve heard nothing from that Heilon.”
And referring to ‘that Heilon’ as if he were just a commoner was rather disrespectful; at the very least, he should say ‘Duke Heilon.’
Did Abel ever mention this man to me? I pondered whether there had been any mention of him in my memory.
[I’ll send you a dog that can help you out for that matter.]
Ah.
“Ah, that dog?” Those words slipped out of my mouth without thinking.
“What?”
The man frowned, his expression fierce as he looked at me. Isaac flinched, ready to intervene if things took a turn for the worse. Read the translation only on itsladygrey.com.
But I wasn’t scared at all. I had dealt with plenty of dirty, mad mercenaries throughout my life. This was nothing. “His Highness Duke Heilon mentioned in his letter that he would send a dog.”
“That punk…” The man ground his teeth in frustration.
‘That punk,’ he said?!
I asked curtly, “Is that you? Are you that dog?”
The man looked as if he had just chewed something unpleasant when I posed the question. Read the translation only on itsladygrey.com.
“Are you really expecting me to answer that to confirm my identity?”
Oh. It was then that I realized the implication of my question. If he answered yes, he would essentially become the dog. Well, that wasn’t my intention. But I wouldn’t take back my question. I couldn’t help but feel dissatisfied with his attitude.
I shrugged my shoulders and muttered, “I’d rather have a real dog; at least a real dog is cute.”
What was the use of this ugly man anyway?
The man smirked upon hearing my remark. “A little girl speaks fearlessly.”
As I sat down, my brain sarcastically replied, Yeah, this little girl is much stronger than you.
“So who the hell are you? I’ve asked, but you haven’t answered. If you don’t tell me your name, I’ll have no choice but to call you ‘doggie.’”
“That person… dog? A dog?!” He ruffled his hair impatiently.
Normally, a regular mercenary would have gone crazy at this point in the conversation, so for him to merely ruffle his hair in frustration was actually surprising. Not bad. Read the translation only on itsladygrey.com.
He looked at me for a moment and spat out, “Gunther.”
“Gunther?” I repeated, my eyes widening.
“Yes, you’ve probably heard of it before.”
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