Episode 334
Is dizziness also a form of training? That was the second time I used a space teleportation scroll, and the motion sickness was less severe. The sensation of being upside down was still unpleasant, but I no longer felt nauseous.
The moment the light surrounding me faded, I checked on Verita first. I kept my expectations low, but I couldn't help wondering whether I would see her in a less composed state.
Unfortunately, Verita stood perfectly upright, her expression no different from when we left. Even Kayan had frowned a bit after the spatial movement.
I really want to take a closer look at her.
Verita asked, "What is it?"
Did she notice my intrusive thoughts?
"Nothing." I looked around with a stiff expression. As expected, I saw Assad again. Unlike before the regression, he was seated this time, reading a book. The difference likely came from our earlier arrival than the last time.
Assad had sensed our presence, but he didn't lift his gaze from the book. He rested his chin on his hand and moved his lips faintly as he skimmed the pages. "You are here sooner than I thought, Luan Badniker. It has been a while. Has it been half a year?"
"That's about right."
"Yes. This is the first time I have seen someone so deeply involved with the church. Even Delac in his prime was not as capable as you."
The conversation unfolded much as it had before. From my perspective, a lot had changed, but for Assad, who had been waiting quietly at home, nothing had.
The shift in the conversation came when Assad's gaze moved to the left. "Who is the companion next to you?"
Suddenly, the air grew heavy.
Archmage Assad was a recluse with a closed-off nature. He was known for a coldness that bordered on indifference toward outsiders. Moreover, as Kayan had mentioned, the news of the Iron-Blooded Lord's critical condition was a tightly guarded secret that could never leave the family.
The look he gave Verita was indescribable. If he chose to grant permission, no one in the Badniker family would object to her presence.
Fortunately, Verita wasn't an ordinary person. She maintained her smile under his cold gaze and spoke. "My name is Razbet, a member of the Seventy-Two Churches' Inquisition Office. You are Archmage Assad, correct? I have heard of your reputation."
Assad gave her a brief glance before turning back to me. "A church inquisitor? Where is Kayan?"
He did not even address her directly. He could have asked her himself, but he chose to speak to me without acknowledging her.
"We decided to come back separately. I heard about Father's condition. I thought Sister Razbet would be more useful, so I invited her," I replied.
Assad's expression hardened further. "Did you tell an outsider about the family's affairs?"
I nodded. "That's right."
"I never expected you to be so careless. No, let me ask you this. You understand how important Delac's condition is to the empire. Why did you spread the news?"
"I didn't spread it. I told no one except Sister Razbet," I replied calmly.
"Then why tell her at all?" he pressed.
I shrugged. "I judged her to be reliable."
Assad frowned. "I know a bit about inquisitors. They think only of the Dark Church and demons. This means that they will use Delac's condition to their advantage, as bait."
"Aren't you exaggerating a bit?"
Verita didn't flinch at being insulted to her face. "Brother Luan, it's all right."
She gave me the impression that nothing would anger her unless it involved me. Even if someone cursed her, she would likely laugh it off. If slapped on one cheek, it was possible that she would offer the other cheek as well.
"Sir Assad, I understand your concerns. There are certainly members of the Inquisition Office with the extreme tendencies you mentioned," Verita claimed.
Assad addressed her directly for the first time. "Are you different from them?"
"No matter what I say, you may find it difficult to accept. Therefore, I will make a vow to the Gods here." Verita clasped her inverted cross and murmured a prayer. "From this moment on, I will keep everything I have seen and heard in the Badniker family a secret. If I ever reveal it, the Gods won't forgive me."
They weren't empty words. A faint sense of divine power emanated from her. Of course, breaking the vow wouldn't cost her life. However, the visible manifestation of divine power from a believer carried clear meaning. It appeared only when her words aligned with her true heart.
Assad finally suppressed his aura. The pressure he previously released almost seemed like a lie.
Don't tell me... I had a hunch, and now I understood. His actions had been meant to draw out this oath.
Assad closed the book and stood up. "Very well. For now, I will allow you to stay. But aside from acknowledging your presence, I don't expect you to be of much help. After all, an inquisitor's primal role is to fight the Dark Church and defeat demons. The miasma that brought Delac to this critical state is unusually severe. I have never encountered anything like it."
"As you know, not all forms of miasma are the same. Just as mana has different properties, miasma has its own distinct nature. The same applies to divine power," Verita argued. "I can't claim to surpass the Bishops in healing powers, but the compatibility between my power and the miasma affecting the Iron-Blooded Lord may be favorable."
"I understand your point, but statistically, the chances are slim. It is no more likely than a rare herb appearing in front of you the moment you fall ill." Assad sighed. "I said that, but I have no choice but to grasp at any possibility."
Something in his tone felt genuine. It was the first time Assad seemed to reveal his true feelings. Whatever else lay beneath the surface, his desire to save the Iron-Blooded Lord was real.
Verita said, "In any case, we have to meet and assess the compatibility in person, right?"
"That's right," Assad said. "Very well. Then you will accompany me for now. As for you, Luan Badniker, there is something I would like to ask."
I knew what he wanted to ask, but I still dared to say, "What is it?"
"Besides this nun, there is another person in the family who can heal Delac. The problem is that this person is extremely stubborn. There is a high chance they will refuse to cooperate."
"Is it Miss Lise?" I asked.
"That's right. You caught on quickly." Assad looked slightly surprised as he continued, "I heard that you have grown somewhat close to her. Can you do me this favor?"
I met Assad's gaze and nodded calmly. "Okay. I will give it a try."
***
"Hmm. It has been quite a while," Lise Ladygoth remarked flatly.
Her words matched my memory.
"I have been a bit busy." I had thought about what to say, but I ended up saying something much like I had before.
"Fighting against the church?" she asked.
I nodded. "That's right."
"I see."
A moment of silence followed.
Lise glanced at my hands, then closed her mouth, a trace of disappointment on her face.
I had expected this reaction. It wouldn't have been difficult to stop by the kitchen to prepare some snacks, but I had deliberately come empty-handed today.
"Lise," I started.
"What is it?"
"The family head is in a critical condition right now. Did you know?"
Lise's eyes changed. The gaze of a young lady who coveted sweets turned cold, becoming that of a cunning mage.
Lise snorted. "What do you take me for? The eyes and ears that I have planted across the Badniker territory are as numerous as the books in this library."
I had expected as much. Regardless of everything else, Lise was one of the family's guardians. She would already know about the family head's critical condition. Either she had heard it from someone else or had the means to gather the information from the outside world herself. In other words, even before my return, Lise had been aware of the Iron-Blooded Lord's situation.
"I understand."
"Do you have anything more to say?" she asked.
"Yes. I have something I want to ask of you."
"What is it?"
I took out a mask, which puzzled her.
"It is the Linchal Mask. You've seen it before, right?" I asked.
Her puzzlement deepened. "Why bring it up all of a sudden?"
"I know that it is a high-quality product, but I'm not satisfied with how I look when I use it. It isn't to my taste. I wonder if you could adjust its appearance. Do you think that would be difficult?"
"It isn't difficult..."
"Oh, I'm glad. By the way, can you increase the number of transformations? I would like two or three," I requested.
"I need to examine it first. The total number of transformations depends on the mask's size and material— No. This isn't what we should be talking about." Lise's voice rose as she looked at me in bewilderment. "Don't waste time on nonsense."
"Nonsense?" I echoed.
"I'm asking you seriously. Do you have anything to say to me?"
"No."
"What? Didn't Assad send you here to talk about treating Delac?" she pressed.
"He did. So if that gentleman questions you later, please make sure our answers align. I sincerely begged, but you didn't listen," I said.
Lise nodded in confusion, then stomped her foot. Water splashed, and ripples spread across the surface.
"Don't you understand the current situation?" she demanded. "Delac is injured. The Iron-Blooded Lord, the pillar of the Badnikers, is in critical condition. This family. No, you know what Delac means to the empire."
I nodded. "I do."
"The only one who can treat him is me, Lise Ladygoth," she claimed.
"Well, who knows? I brought someone who can help, and I plan to do what I can. So, Lise, please improve my mask. Of course, I will compensate you. I will bring some baking tools and books the next time I come. Or perhaps this library already has some books on baking?"
I doubted it, judging by what I had seen. Her collection consisted mostly of old, specialized books rather than anything for hobbies or leisure.
Lise seemed dumbfounded now. Did she feel reluctant?
As a genius at negotiations, I took a step back at this point. "If not, that is fine. I can't come often, so I thought it would be best if you could make something yourself and enjoy—"
She cut me off. "Give me a moment with the mask."
I handed the Linchal Mask to Lise without a word.
As always, she used her hair to grab the mask. Then, she examined it with a complicated expression. "Given its size, it can support up to three transformations."
"Is that so? Then can we keep the original appearance and add two more?"
"What do you want?"
"One should be an ordinary appearance. A vague face that people will quickly forget. The other one should be that of a lesser race," I explained.
"A lesser race?" she repeated.
"Yes. A lizardman would be best." Among the lesser races, lizardmen faced the least resistance from imperial citizens. Besides, I had spent time with Araxad and learned their traits and habits. That reduced the risk of exposure.
Lise nodded. "All right. I will give it a try."
"Thank you." I let out a sigh of relief.
This is enough, right? Lise Ladygoth had helped me in many ways and could continue to do so. Fewer than three people I knew could match her magical knowledge, even if I included Archmages like Alderson and Assad. Her expertise in black magic, necromancy, and demonic contracts surpassed theirs.
I told her, "Then I'll be going now."
"Luan Badniker," she called.
"Yes?"
Surprisingly, Lise hesitated, then spoke briefly. "Come again."
I laughed to myself. Lise probably didn't mean it that way, but her words were the exact opposite of what I had heard before my regression.
I nodded. "Of course. I will come again."
Maybe I will bring better news the next time. I decided to swallow those words for now. Nothing made people more miserable than false hope.