COARV Chapter 33

The estate housed so few people it might as well have been abandoned, but the meal was prepared with considerable care.

Cooled ginger bread. Boiled and mashed potatoes seasoned with salt and pepper, enriched with butter. Hot chicken stew topped with finely chopped croutons. Tea poured smooth as silk over melted sugar boiled in the fire, releasing a sweet, warm scent.

"Here."

I poured the tea and offered it. "Thank you," Linon said, accepting it politely with both hands. No hesitation whatsoever.

"Linon."

"Yes?"

"You have mysophobia, don't you?"

Linon blinked, then said, "You must have heard from His Grace."

"I did. But my hands are acceptable to you?"

"Yes. They're fine."

"Why?"

"Well."

Linon's lips curved upward in a smooth smile. "Miss Seria Stern is high nobility, isn't she? High nobles are clean, so it doesn't matter. It's commoners who are dirty. I simply dislike contact with them. High nobles pose no problem whatsoever."

"……."

'That sounds oddly phrased.'

Of course, nobles considered cleanliness a virtue and devoted considerable attention to maintaining it. Many bathed twice daily, and herbs renowned for purifying properties were essentials among the aristocracy.

And it was theoretically accurate that lower-class people, who lacked the leisure and time to boil hot water, were relatively dirtier.

Theoretically, anyway. If other nobles had brought up such talk and declared commoners dirty, I would have considered it arrogant, presumptuous classism. But this was Linon. His usual words and actions had never given such an impression.

'It sounds strange.'

He was smiling vaguely, which made it awkward to press further. Had he read my expression? Linon naturally redirected the conversation.

"Also, Miss, this is a secret, but His Grace has quite a bit of mysophobia himself."

"Does he?"

Linon had been nodding earnestly when he suddenly flinched—hic—his shoulders trembling. I immediately turned around. My eyes widened.

The wall that had been simply black before. The mold on that wall was writhing, moving. One thing came to mind immediately.

Demonic energy.

The shadow of evil with which demonic beasts infected humans. Linon spoke up in immediate confusion.

"Miss, this isn't a sign of demonic beasts. It's not, so…."

"I know."

"You know?"

I looked at the mold crawling slowly with a serious expression. It was as disgusting as thousands of cockroaches creeping along.

'It's not even mold. That's… solidified demonic energy.'

Solidified demonic energy. A cursed byproduct that Lina would later name "demonic shadow."

It was an important element of an incident appearing in the latter half of the original work. The location was the imperial palace of the Gleick Empire, and Lina was the one who purified it. Not only other Sterns but even the High Priest couldn't identify this bizarre solidified demonic energy, which Lina purified completely.

This earned Lina tremendous influence even in the imperial family, but the backlash caused her to collapse gravely ill. Around that time, Lesche—who had already confirmed his feelings for Lina—came into severe conflict with the Emperor, and the ominous atmosphere of civil war began to hover between Berke territory and the imperial family.

'Of course, Lina miraculously woke up and resolved everything peacefully.'

Thanks to Lina's perfect timing, Lesche and the Emperor somehow reconciled—that was the gist of the episode involving this solidified demonic energy, the demonic shadow.

'Seeing it in person, I really can't tell if it's demonic energy.'

When demonic beast energy is nearby, it produces clear changes in human bodies. The pitch-black marks blooming mottled across skin—anyone with eyes could recognize them.

'In the original, Lina purifies this.'

But I can't. Because among Sterns, Seria's purification power wasn't particularly exceptional. She couldn't compare to the saint Lina.

Then the only way to resolve this is to summon Lina?

"Miss Seria? What are you thinking about?"

"Linon. When will His Grace arrive?"

"Since a demonic beast suddenly appeared, he'll be checking the boundary line before returning. He won't arrive until evening."

"That's quite a wait."

"Do you have something to tell His Grace?"

"No. Not particularly."

As I deflected, a doubt I'd forgotten suddenly surfaced. The conversation I'd had with Lesche in the carriage.

'Why, though? You said knights can't enter Laurel Manor.'

'Didn't Linon explain it to you?'

'He didn't say anything.'

'…That bastard, really.'

When I asked about the reason I'd forgotten in all the confusion, Linon immediately looked flustered.

"Well… honestly, His Grace was too thoughtless."

"Pardon?"

"I mean, isn't that right? I was the only one who deeply considered how exactly to phrase things so that the precious lady from the capital would willingly come to Laurel Manor…."

"Ah, yes. That's worth considering."

If I'd been told that black mold moved on its own in the estate and couldn't be cleaned away, I would have seriously reconsidered coming here. When I said that, Linon stared at me for a moment.

"What?"

"Nothing, just… never mind."

Linon cleared his throat and pointed to the shadows writhing behind the wall.

"The sorcerers will arrive soon. They're from the Nesla Kingdom."

"The Nesla Kingdom? From such a distant place?"

"We've exhausted every possible solution on this continent."

"I see…."

The Nesla Kingdom was a distant foreign nation requiring passage across the entire continent. That kingdom where gypsies flourished was polytheistic, famous for its thriving folk magic.

I'd heard there were occasionally those with genuine skill, unlike the usual frauds…. The problem was that the Grand Temple treated all of this as heresy. I tilted my head.

"But is it alright for me to know this? Linon, you do realize I'm a Stern, right?"

"His Grace will probably give you a substantial hush money payment."

Money? I had no reason to refuse money. But there was a fundamental problem.

"No…. You simply shouldn't have brought me here in the first place."

Linon glanced around before speaking.

"His Grace wanted to show you to Masha. His Grace received considerable help from Masha since he was very young."

'No wonder she felt so warm. Was she a nanny?'

But for Lesche's nanny, Masha seemed slightly too young. More like a companion maid? No, usually male nobles have companion servants rather than companion maids. In any case, it appeared Lesche and Masha shared considerable bonds.

But there was still a hole in the explanation that didn't make sense.

"You could have brought me after the sorcery ritual ended. It's not like I'm leaving Berke territory entirely."

"That's because this is the last time, Miss."

The voice wasn't heavy, but the meaning was. I lifted my head and asked again.

"Last time?"

Lesche looked up at the sky. Snow was falling relentlessly, enough to be tiresome. This was the central plains' unique season. While the weather in all other seasons was mild, a few weeks of winter were cold enough to recall the north. This was because of the demonic beasts' tomb—the frozen lake—which accumulated three seasons' worth of northern cold and then poured it out without warning at some point during winter.

Yet the Grand Duchy's people loved this heavy snowfall. They believed abundant snow was the secret to bountiful harvests. They said people from the warm capital made special trips to see the snowy landscape, and many vassals agreed that what was good was good.

The snowy scenery suited Laurel Manor well. The idea that the green estate reminiscent of early summer and pure white snow would harmonize seemed strange at first hearing, but the actual resulting view was undeniably beautiful.

Knights were already waiting near the boundary line.

"Your Grace!"

"The demonic beast?"

"There were no more."

As they said this, the knights glanced at the undulating black shadows surging at the boundary line.

Black shadows rippled near the boundary as well. The knights' hands twitched. They couldn't deny that those bizarre shadows resembled demonic energy. But they were different from demonic energy. Ordinary people would die if exposed to demonic energy for long periods, yet no one had died so far.

But no one could deny that something fundamental was common between them. Most knights had experience with demonic beasts. So when they first saw those shadows, they drew their swords and stabbed madly. The manor still bore dozens of sword marks created for that reason.

This was why Lesche prohibited knights from entering the manor. Besides, the people trapped inside didn't welcome contact with outsiders either.

His red eyes glanced down at the ring on his second left finger. A ring decorated with the Berke Grand Duchy's crest split precisely in half. A very old Grand Duke of Berke's ring.

For a moment, Lesche recalled an old memory.

It had been over fifteen years since the beautiful green estate became infected with these ominous shadows. He'd heard it wasn't this severe at first. The initial incident was simply that the maids in charge of cleaning the manor were scolded for neglecting their duties.

These unidentifiable shadows of unknown origin continued to proliferate. Actually, Lesche didn't know much about that time. Around then, he'd been attending an academy abroad where exceptional talents from outside the Empire studied.

What he did know came entirely from young knight Elliot, who had run crying all the way to the academy dormitory to find him.

Lesche still remembered Laurel Manor's final moments.