"Worshipper! Where did you go! Left ! Left for long ti! Alone! Human man, mistreats the great !"
The snowman, having fallen to the floor, looked around and, upon seeing Arenheit, imdiately rushed at him and started hitting him.
"Disappeared again? Worshipper, no word! Great alone in bedroom! Contract broken! Worshipper bad! Human bad! Dismissed! Dismissed!"
"I'm sorry. I said I'm sorry."
Not that it could hurt much with those short arms flailing about.
When Arenheit picked up the snowman, it started crying like a three-year-old who had lost and found its mother.
Small icicles began to drip from the snowman's eyes in place of tears.
He had already been reproached for a long ti after abandoning the snowman once in Gallo, and now he wondered how long it would be angry this ti.
"Bad! Worshipper bad!"
"I should have told you beforehand. I'm sorry. Really."
His hands were not just red but growing numb from the cold, yet he couldn't bring himself to put the snowman down.
Verde, watching Arenheit holding the snowman and icicles, gave him a suspicious look.
"What exactly is this snowman?"
"It's a snowman. You've been seeing it since Glico."
"Not that. I an the talk about a deity being inside it or whatever."
"It's a bit complicated to explain everything, but yes, it is indeed an avatar of a deity."
"Do deities also whine like seven-year-olds? Just how old is it?"
"The main entity is probably hundreds of tis older than us."
Avoiding Verde's sharp gaze, Arenheit comforted and soothed the snowman for quite so ti until the icicle tears finally stopped.
The snowman, which had been rubbing the middle of its face despite not having a nose, spoke.
"Ho. Overturned. Human man at ho, gives this to . Asked favor. Great Aphoom-Zhah, not forgets."
"What were you asked to deliver?"
At those words, the snowman detached its head and lifted it up.
Inside the snowman's body was a letter buried in snow.
As he pulled out the half-frozen letter and opened it, neat handwriting appeared.
It was a letter from Leandros's party.
[Your Grace, this is Alia.
Without further ado, I share the situation with you, hoping this letter arrives as quickly as possible...
...Therefore, while the situation in Martang is proceeding smoothly, there is an opinion that we need to prove that person's corruption, especially as the connection between Shub-Niggurath and the heretics is certain.
The moonstone plate sold by the village will likely be acquired by other rchant groups or nobles based on its artistic value. We considered requesting the Information Guild to track it, but we would like Your Grace to make the judgnt.
We have so ti before heading to Toro, so we will focus on the local investigation.
There are no injuries on our side. Sir Leandros and Sir Nabilov are safe. Sir Nabilov sotis competes with Sir Leandros because he trusts him so much, but I believe that also stems from goodwill. At least, that's what I believe.
I hope Your Grace is also well.]
The letter wasn't long, but Arenheit read its contents over and over.
He smiled a little at the addendum Alia had made at the end.
Alia must have been quite patient too.
Looking at the firmly pressed letters, it was even funnier to imagine the expression on Alia's face as she wrote.
"What's so funny?"
"It seems Alia is having quite a hard ti being between Russel and Leandros."
"Tell her that's her own karma."
"If I do that, Alia might run all the way from Martang to beat you up."
"Ugh!"
Arenheit handed the letter back to Verde, who was shuddering.
The letter contained a summary of the incident in Martang, and the three were eager to secure evidence that Yurik was behind the disturbance in the village.
But why would Yurik be the main villain?
He was Yurik precisely because he escaped from all sorts of incidents without leaving a trace.
Still, they had to at least try.
"Verde, I need you to go to the townhouse again tomorrow. Tell Arndt to visit the Information Guild. I'll try to track the moonstone as written in the letter."
"Since it's not jewelry made of moonstone but just a moonstone chunk, it's certainly rare. Alright. But can I get out? What excuse are you going to use this ti?"
That's right.
What excuse should he use?
Verde and Arenheit stared blankly at each other.
After a long stare, Arenheit spoke first.
"I've got a good idea."
"Really? That's sothing to celebrate, but I don't know why I feel uneasy."
"Why? You must be ntally and physically weak. Get so good sleep and food."
"I'm already doing that. So what's this good idea?"
"How about we do a role play?"
"Damn it all! I knew it!"
*
"In short, the Duke is throwing a tantrum?"
Yurik asked without even looking up from the book he was reading.
The royal servant who had co to report had been guarding the guest room where Arenheit was staying for the past few days, reporting his movents to Yurik.
The servant bowed his head and reported apologetically.
"It seems so items were rejected when he requested to bring in personal belongings."
"Seeing how irritable he is, I suppose his mind has beco ill too."
"It seems the Duke's servant is trying to get permission to bring in items again. Should we allow entry to and exit from the royal palace?"
"Assign soone to follow him instead. To prevent any mischief. And inform the personnel stationed near the Duke's townhouse as well. If there's any unusual movent there, report it imdiately."
The servant bowed and backed away.
Once the servant left the office, Yurik finally closed the book with a sound.
The office, which would normally have been neat, was sowhat disheveled.
Books piled on the floor, old scrolls lying around unraveled.
Yurik slowly rose and approached the desk.
A large map placed in the center of the large desk.
It was a map representing the entire territory of the kingdom.
Mountains, rivers, plains, and forest areas.
The adjacent seas and lakes were represented in considerable detail, but others might have found it sowhat strange.
Judging by the paper composing the map and the delicate notations, it was clearly a high-quality map,
But for a map purchased at great expense, there were strangely amateurish aspects that stood out.
Slightly blurred ink,
Place nas corrected multiple tis in a mismatched way,
Dense notes added,
Scale standards oddly detached from reality.
Due to these crude elents, the map looked like sothing a rich person had made as a joke.
But Yurik read the symbols and records inscribed on the map as if it were a precious treasure.
"This might be a bit late."
He muttered to himself as he grabbed the quill that was stuck in the inkwell.
Dates and tis calculated from a very ancient past.
And the right place.
His white hand deftly erased the markings on the map and inscribed new ones.
The north was waiting, the south and west were awakening from a long sleep, and the east had disappeared.
But soon there would be an entity to fill the void in the east.
Being able to cooperate with the 'Daughters of Blood' was truly fortunate.
Of course, their leader wouldn't consider it fortunate since she had to traverse the kingdom with half of her sect.
The regions highlighted with a border on the map were territories once owned by Hartmann.
Although it wasn't exactly the far east, so difference would be permissible considering the position of the stars.
And even if things went sowhat awry due to this small difference, there were still plenty of trump cards that could be used in the end.
Yurik felt sweat pooling in his palm.
Despite having waited for this mont for a long ti, he couldn't bear the tension.
It was soon. Really soon.
For him, who had lived long enough to consider a thousand years trivial,
The day when he had lived under countless false identities, including disguising himself as a specific human lineage,
Every mont he had lived so numbly that he forgot what his essence was.
The helplessness, despair, and depression of pretending to be nonchalant while knowing sothing was amiss among a group of species he could never blend into.
The ti was finally approaching for it all to co to an end.
Yurik desperately wanted to accept that end with a smile.
And for that to happen
"Are you there?"
When Yurik shook a small golden bell, a servant waiting outside entered.
"You called, Your Highness?"
"From now on, do not let anyone in. I will not accept any matter, no matter how urgent. If anyone disobeys this order, everyone who sets foot in this office will be punished."
"I will keep that in mind."
With such a threat, even moderately important people would be reluctant to co near the office.
After the door closed, Yurik took out the whistle hanging around his neck.
The whistle hanging on a silver string had been unnaturally broken in half.
But he didn't mind at all and put the whistle to his lips.
The broken whistle only made a short, incomplete wind sound, but as if it were a signal, sothing took shape and rose from the shadows cast in the room.
Black hooves treading on the thick carpet and legs boasting firm muscles.
A black horse with an excellent build that could be mistaken for a warhorse bred in the royal stables erged from the shadows, shaking its body.
Its bright red eyes contained a flickering fla like from a charcoal fire.
As Yurik stroked the horse that bowed its head to him, he suddenly felt that his steed was different from usual.
"That's strange. Since you're not an ordinary livestock, you can't be sick. Perhaps you're lacking in magical power?"
Even though he thought there was no way he himself could be lacking in magical power, Yurik casually asked.
The black mane also seed strangely dull, and its build seed a bit smaller than before.
What change of heart could have made it take such a form?
Could the Duke have found the other piece of the whistle?
It would be troubleso if he destroyed or damaged it.
Since it had been his mount all this ti, Yurik spoke to it as affectionately as possible.
"It seems you've consud a lot of magical power recently. When I get the chance, I'll search the Hartmann ducal residence and find the remaining piece of the whistle for you. If that happens, you can surely be completed as a whole."
Yurik didn't particularly like defective products.
With the grimoire and magical power he possessed, he could summon any fierce and complete creature nesting in the abyss of the universe.
Yet the only reason he insisted on taming this Biaki was one.
Because a life form concealing its identity and detained on this planet happened to catch his eye, and because he pitied it.
He mounted Biaki, who had taken the form of a horse, with an affectionate touch he never showed to others.
"Let's go, to the south!"
Biaki raised its front legs at its master's command and let out a powerful neigh.
The next mont, the room was empty.
On the desk in the ownerless room, on the southern part of the map, only one na was written in blood-red ink.
[The One Who Waits in Dreams.]
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