Kays Translations

Chapter 41: What I Noticed

Ren woke shortly after dawn the next morning and began preparing breakfast.

They had pushed onward as far as they could the previous day before making camp. Ren had used monster pelts to cover the gaps in their tent, and the interior had remained surprisingly warm through the night.

“If Weiss hadn’t taught me how to camp, this might have turned into a genuine survival crisis.”

The thought brought back memories of fleeing through the mountains with Licia. More recently, after the old manor’s roof collapsed, Weiss had also shown him how monster materials could be used in the wilderness.

Ren had no intention of complaining about the lessons now. If anything, he was grateful for every one of them.

“Good morning, Adventurer.”

“Ah—good morning.”

Fiona emerged from the tent with sleep still clinging to her voice.

“Breakfast is ready, so—”

“I’m sorry. I slept late again, so—”

They both stopped speaking at the same time.

Ren did not know why Fiona had fallen silent. He knew perfectly well why he had.

(A cowlick.)

A single lock of Fiona’s dark hair stood upright atop her head. The sight was so far removed from her usual refined bearing that it was almost unfairly charming.

Should he tell her? No. That would only embarrass her.

(I’ll pretend I didn’t notice.)

Ren smiled as though nothing were amiss.

“It isn’t much, but please have some.”

“Not much? This is more than enough.”

Fiona sat beside the fire and accepted the simple meal. Ren had prepared tea, lightly seasoned grilled meat, and soup made by rehydrating dried provisions from Clausel. It was plain, but nutritious and well suited to travel.

Fiona held the cup of soup in both hands, blew gently across its surface, and took a cautious sip.

The stubborn lock of hair bobbed with the movement.

(It moved.)

It bobbed again with her next sip.

Ren hurriedly turned his gaze away. Staring would be rude.

A moment later, however, he noticed Fiona repeatedly glancing at his head. Whenever he looked toward her, she quickly averted her eyes and hunched over her cup as though trying to make herself smaller.

“I’ll start packing,” Ren said, rising. “There’s no need to hurry, Lady Fiona. Finish at your own pace.”

Fiona looked up as though she wanted to stop him. Her hand lifted slightly, then dropped back to her lap.

“Thank you.”

Ren returned to the tent and began placing their few utensils into his bag.

Then his hand paused.

He solemnly touched his own hair. It was rough after days without a proper bath, but that was not what caught his attention.

A lock of hair stood up from the side of his head.

“So we’re even.”

With an inexplicable sense of determination, Ren pressed it flat.

From outside the tent came Fiona’s startled voice.

“Ah… he had one too?”

By the time Ren finished packing and stepped outside, both of their cowlicks had been properly subdued.

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

After breaking camp, Ren walked between banks of snow and slow-moving streams of lava, turning the recent disturbances over in his mind.

(What in the world is happening here?)

He had considered the question repeatedly since leaving the fort, including throughout his turn on night watch. Where had the chain of abnormalities begun? Who had arranged them, and for what purpose?

(The fire on the suspension bridge was aimed at Fiona. If that’s true, then the abnormalities surrounding the final examination may have been aimed at her from the beginning.)

The preparations must have started before the students arrived—perhaps even before their magic ship departed. Whoever was responsible possessed enough influence and foresight to exploit Dean Chronois Highland’s absence from Leomel.

Yet Ren remembered no such incident from Legend of the Seven Heroes.

If something of this scale had occurred in the game, surely he would have learned about it.

(No. I’m starting from the wrong assumption.)

Of course the event had not appeared in the game. In the original story, Fiona had already died. There had been no living Fiona Ignat to target, no examination incident centered on her, and no one for the protagonists to rescue.

He needed to examine the problem from a different angle.

(Who benefits from Fiona Ignat’s death?)

The people seeking the Demon King’s revival immediately came to mind. Killing Fiona during an examination administered by the Imperial Military Academy could drive Marquis Ignat to distrust Leomel. The academy and the state could hardly be treated as unrelated.

What Ren could not explain was the present condition of the Baldor Mountains.

The mountain range was becoming far more dangerous than it had ever been in the game. Before long, its silver slopes might be buried beneath reddish-black lava. If the conspirators had always possessed the power to produce such a disaster, they could have used it in the game as well—and the protagonists would never have reached the final area.

(So either the story simply never showed this possibility, or something exists now that did not exist then.)

If Marquis Ignat himself had been responsible, perhaps he had lacked sufficient power or preparation in the original timeline. But neither possibility felt convincing.

(There must be a difference between the Baldor Mountains now and the Baldor Mountains in the game.)

His thoughts returned to Fiona, especially to the vortex of fire that had struck the suspension bridge.

“Lady Fiona, may I ask you something?”

“Yes. What is it?”

Despite her exhaustion, Fiona continued walking without complaint and turned her attention to him.

“You cared for the people who collapsed in the fort. What ability did you use?”

“Well…”

She hesitated, and Ren immediately regretted the question.

“I’m sorry. I know revealing one’s abilities can be dangerous.”

“My father told me never to speak of it to anyone.”

Fiona looked troubled. Even so, she apparently did not wish to hide the truth from the person traveling beside her.

“In addition to the magic you have already seen, I can interfere with another person’s mana.”

Her explanation was deliberately vague, but the ability itself was unlike anything Ren knew from the game.

“So that is how you treated the people suffering symptoms similar to Vessel Fracture.”

“Yes. I only wish it worked as well on my own body. My ability has very little effect on me.”

“I see.”

Ren nodded while thinking rapidly.

(There’s no question that her power is unusual.)

But the answer created another inconsistency.

Suppose the adventurers’ collapse had been part of the plan to target Fiona. By caring for them, she would remain in the Baldor Mountains longer. Yet no one could have guaranteed that the examinees would take refuge in the same fort as the adventurers and the official merchant.

If the two groups had never met, incapacitating the escorts would have achieved nothing.

Nor did it make sense to wait until Fiona reached the fort if killing her had been the sole objective. It would have been easier to strike before then.

That left two broad possibilities: the conspirators had needed her to reach the fort before killing her, or they had intended to kill her earlier and failed for some unforeseen reason.

Neither explanation accounted for every detail.

Someone was certainly behind the situation, but Ren still could not see the full shape of the plan.

Then a thought struck him.

He stopped walking.

(No… could it be?)

The scattered points of unease connected one after another.

(I was brought here too.)

The official merchant’s request, the Steel-Eating Gargoyle materials, and Ren’s decision to join the rescue party—perhaps none of them had been accidental.

Fiona stopped beside him and looked up. The force in Ren’s expression made her draw a quiet breath.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” Ren said.

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