[Translator - Night]
[Proofreader - Gun]
Chapter 287
Fortunately, there were no major issues with Farell’s condition.
He had been exposed to necromantic mana, but since he naturally had so resistance to mana, the diagnosis was that he’d recover with enough rest.
The cult’s ritual had been disrupted, and the staff they had been using to strengthen their powers was now in my possession.
From the cultists’ perspective, it must have been maddening, but that wasn’t my concern.
“So… you ca all the way here just to ask about that?”
“You were the only one among the experienced individuals who could explain it properly, Your Grace.”
“Huh… Hahaha. I see.”
He chuckled and took out a bottle of wine from a cabinet in the duke's office.
“Have a drink.”
“Yes, thank you.”
I took the glass he handed over and emptied it in one go.
“You must be feeling quite rushed.”
“Yes. Very much so. I’ve kept putting it off, but I can’t delay it any longer.”
“You don’t want to get married?”
“No, I do intend to.”
My firm answer made him nod.
“Then I suppose you’re worried that things might go wrong if you proceed with too little information.”
“For now, yes.”
“Huh… Proposals aren’t common practice, you know.”
Indeed, for nobles and royals who often married for political alliances, proposals were hardly necessary.
However, not all marriages were arranged.
So were based on love, and those couples did go through the motions.
After so thought, he finally spoke.
“To be honest, I’m quite surprised. That there’s sothing you’re not good at.”
“I’m human, after all.”
“Haha, fair enough. Either way, I’m pleased that you ca to for help.”
Still smiling, he got up from his seat.
Then he went to a drawer in the office and pulled sothing out.
It was an old handkerchief.
“A handkerchief?”
“That’s right. It’s also a symbol of a lady and her knight.”
He wore a distant expression, as if recalling a ti long ago.
“There was a hunting competition back in the day. At the ti, there were many people in my wife’s family who didn’t look kindly upon our relationship.”
Whether it was for political reasons or other gains.
If her family opposed the future heir of a ducal house, it likely ant her original intended fiancé was of even higher status—perhaps royalty.
“So during that hunting competition, she gave a handkerchief.”
It was a common ritual between a lady and her knight.
But the two of them had given it a deeper aning.
His wife had embroidered a crest on the cloth, combining the symbols of the Berli ducal house and her own family’s emblem, and tied it around his wrist.
By publicly displaying that crest, it was as if they were declaring to everyone: We are together.
“She gave the handkerchief, and I hunted the black stag that symbolized her family.”
So… you just give it a aning, and that’s that.
In any case, their actions made it public and official.
By exchanging symbolic tokens, the ritual was complete.
The rest of what he told were minor stories.
Essentially, it was a romantic tale, though unlike , he was sowhat smooth, and much of what he did made cringe just imagining doing the sa.
“I’m not sure if that helped at all.”
“Hmm… This is tough.”
I answered honestly, without a shred of pretense, and he laughed heartily.
“Hahaha. Leon, there’s not much I can say to help. Whether it's the customs of the Kingdom of Bata or those of other nations, forget what others think. If you truly love her and want to spend your life together…”
He reached out and patted my shoulder.
“Then none of that matters. Oh right. I’ve heard Cascadia has developed remarkably. If I ever get the chance, would you mind if I visited for sightseeing?”
“Of course not. You’ll probably be surprised when you see it.”
“Haha. I’ve already heard the rumors.”
I didn’t say a word all the way back to my room in the ducal estate of Cascadia.
It was because the Duke of Berli’s final words kept echoing in my head.
He wasn’t wrong.
In the end, what I wanted to do might simply be for my own satisfaction.
That thought crossed my mind—but at the sa ti, I also wondered: Is this really okay?
After all, our case was very different from that of ordinary people.
In Luna’s case, she hadn’t experienced much of what would be considered “normal.”
Over the past two years, although she had gone through a lot, she had always been by my side.
She says she’s fine—but from my point of view, I wanted her to experience more.
Even thinking it through like this, I couldn’t co up with an easy answer.
[This isn’t an urgent issue. I recomnd taking a few more weeks to think about it.]
Fair enough.
It’s not like I was going to act on it tomorrow anyway.
I retrieved the staff that had been tightly wrapped in cloth and stashed in subspace.
Then I narrowed my eyes.
I had placed a few seals on it for now, but it wasn’t sothing anyone else could use easily.
The cultists had likely used it to suppress sothing, thus boosting their own power.
Still, one question remained unanswered…
“What’s that? A staff?”
“Don’t touch it. One wrong move and your head might explode.”
“Whoa…”
Isna, intrigued by the staff, flinched and stepped back.
Then she asked,
“What exactly is that thing?”
“So cultists were caught performing a ritual in the Berli duchy. I retrieved this from there. From what I’ve heard, they used it to mass-produce necromancers.”
She fell silent at my words.
After a mont of contemplation, she stared at the staff.
“That’s sothing so important… but they didn’t put up more of a fight over it?”
[Translator - Night]
[Proofreader - Gun]
“Not really.”
“Then maybe it’s fake?”
“Would they go through all that ritual effort for a fake?”
“Well, who knows? But if it was truly important, they wouldn’t have taken such minimal precautions. More importantly, if I were a cultist, I wouldn’t have operated in Bata of all places. If it isn’t a fake… then they’ll definitely co looking for it.”
Isna had a point.
At that mont, I finally registered what she looked like.
“And what are you doing dressed like that again?”
“How do I look?”
Her antics were often unpredictable.
Ever since she temporarily settled in Cascadia, it had only taken a month for her to beco a local celebrity.
She suddenly started walking around dressed as a grim reaper, causing the townspeople to panic, then having to go around explaining herself over and over again.
Now, the outfit she wore was a bright red Santa costu.
I had once told Arsha about Santa Claus — a fictional figure who brings gifts during winter — as an excuse to give her a present.
Back then, I had worn a red Santa costu myself.
When Isna saw that, her eyes had sparkled with inspiration, and she hounded the domain's tailor until that thing was made.
What I had shown her was a standard Santa costu.
What she was wearing now, though, looked more like one of those holiday-thed won’s Santa outfits I’d seen in my previous life — probably from so event.
Trimd with fluffy white fur, and in a soft, cozy-looking red that wasn’t unpleasant to the eyes.
But… did she really have to add that fake beard that looks like it could spark a revolution?
Truth be told, she was quite aesthetically gifted, befitting the young lady of a noble house known for its elegance.
Put simply, she was the type who dressed well and got along with everyone — the ultimate extre [E].
Judging by her appearance, she had probably gone around tossing gifts at people again.
Well, she was the kind of person who once bought a compass worth hundreds of millions of cel as a “gift.”
“There are so many cute kids here. They fall for it so easily.”
Recently, a sudden Santa craze had taken over the Cascadia territory.
Not for any particular reason.
But from a parent’s perspective, it was a great way to keep their kids in line.
“Do you regret it? Breaking off the engagent, I an?”
As I stared at her silently, she gave a mischievous smile and asked.
“If I regretted it, that would be disrespectful to you too.”
“That’s true. A marriage between two people without feelings would’ve had a pretty pitiful future anyway.”
She untied the sack of gifts slung over her shoulder and handed a small box.
“It’s not ti for Santa to give gifts yet.”
“I’m giving it because it looks like you still have a conscience.”
The way she giggled made it hard to tell if she actually felt any lingering regret.
Giggling, she handed the gift, then spotted so nearby attendants and ran off toward them with a shout.
“Hey, you there! Freeze! Here’s a gift!”
“Ah! Lady Isna! Thank you so much!”
“Your outfit is stunning today, as always.”
“Really? Compared to lissa?”
“Ah… that’s a bit hard to say… haha.”
Though she was a duchess’s daughter, she clearly lived the way she wanted — and I respected that.
So might say she lacked dignity, but honestly?
Anyone who’s seen her other sides wouldn’t be able to say that.
Even with all her frivolous behavior, in just two years she had earned a solid reputation among the residents of the domain.
There was a reason she was treated like a shining star in the Mielephon territory.
She was born with incredible charm — honestly, sotis she felt more like a golden retriever turned human.
After Isna left and the room grew quiet again, I looked around and began releasing all the temporary seals I’d placed on the staff.
A massive amount of information flooded directly into my mind from the staff in my hands, but at this point, it was already proven that the staff’s power couldn’t harm .
At the sa ti, a desire surged within — the craving of a mage to possess such a thing.
“You’re not even all that… and yet you keep tempting like this… Think you can handle ?”
I tapped the staff with a mocking tone, but of course, there was no reply.
Neither the Heart of the Machine God nor any other form of magic could fully analyze it — this staff was too ambiguous to be considered a re magical tool.
To be exact, it was similar to that demonic statue — its origin wrapped in mystery.
I honestly had no idea how those cultists kept finding things like this.
Once the interrogation of the cultist we caught alongside the staff was finished, more information would probably co in.
After resealing the staff with several layers of enchantnts and locking it away in the back of my workshop, I finally felt sowhat at ease.
In so ways, that staff was the dream of all mages.
Just holding it could elevate one’s power by several levels.
The problem was, no human could withstand it.
“This is… Kuralion’s Staff. I’m sure it was sealed deep underground. Where did you find it?”
That was when soone suddenly spoke up — clearly recognizing the staff.
[Translator - Night]
[Proofreader - Gun]
User Comments
0 comments from readers