Albionâs Pastoral House (10)
Kleio knew that scent like it had been carved into his mind; it was the stench of the north gate dungeon where he had been detained until three days ago.
âWere you interrogating Arthur? You wonât find anything special from him, so what the hell are you going to force him to do?â
His head began to ache for a moment, but he strengthened himself not to reveal it. The world hadnât started to shake yet. If things went as planned, Arthur could soon be released. No, he had to make sure that happened.
âThank you for taking the time when youâre so busy. You mustâve taken the fast route to save your precious time.â
The prince laughed a little at Kleioâs response. The conversation between the two was similar to a dance, returning the right answer at the right time without having to believe each otherâs words. The crown prince pointed at the empty chair with his hand. Thanks to Separation, Kleio was able to move calmly and sit down without shaking.
âAlright. Since you were relieved of the six-week wait, letâs get to the main point. If it is judged that itâs not very informative, I will have to go to the next scheduled item.â
The princeâs schedule was usually prepared six weeks in advance, and it was true that such an unexpected meeting was a great privilege. It wasnât very pleasant to hear from the one who detained Kleio and his friends, but now, he wasnât in a position to bring that up.
âIt wonât be easy, but letâs waste his time somehow.â
It was the first time he had watched the prince closely after that winter night in the Tristein territory when Grendel attacked. Unlike then, his face was clear, and his eyes looked youthful. Perhaps the aftereffects of his skill use hadnât occurred yet. The crown prince tapped the back of his hand, appearing relaxed, but it was an obvious move to make Kleio hurry up.
He wouldnât be able to keep the crown prince held down with so little bait. Kleio thought of the ammo he held. Would it be appropriate to use now? Or would the future be distorted for the worse if some information were revealed now? He would be lying if he said he held no hesitation.
âBut I have to. I canât think of a better way.â
Kleio forced his mouth to open.
âI have a bit to say about the experiment that was conducted at the expense of your subjects. It is presumed to have happened in the process of improving a unique medicinal material that uses Ezraâs style and demonâs blood.â
âWell, tell me more.â
âThe name of the medicine is Hydraâs Poison. Itâs a drug created by a student of the Capital Defense Force nearly a century ago. The aftereffects are great enough to destroy oneâs surroundings when ingested.â
âWhat does such a strange poison have to do with my subjects?â
âEzraâs stylus, the main ingredient of the poison, has the effect of repelling evil. If you survive after consuming the poison prepared with demonâs blood, you will gain an etheric sensitivity that you lacked before.â
The crown princeâs fingers stopped tapping, proving Kleioâs judgment was right.
Revealing an issue not listed in the last manuscript was a straightforward way to draw the princeâs attention.
âWhere did you gather that information?â
âDo you remember the uproar at the opera house last winter? I thought that perhaps the swordsmen who were involved in the incident had been taking this drug, so I continued a personal investigation.â
âWhat is the clue youâve been tracking for two years?â
âIt is red ether. Anyone who consumes the poison has a reddish ether, regardless of their level. However, it was difficult to report to the Defense Forces because there is no solid evidence other than the sightings.â
The princeâs eyes shone with a metallic luster as a strange joy filled his face.
âRed ether. The ether of Swordmaster Sir Rosa has a similar color. Is it different from hers?â
âItâs completely different. Itâs not a bright red like Rosa, but a dark and cloudy red. No one has been able to reach the level of a swordmaster with the drug, and it seems that the higher the power it expresses, the weaker the reasoning of the subject becomes.â
âHow does the weakness manifest?â
âMen turn into beasts, craving the blood of others. Thanks to the investigation, Iâve come to that conclusion.â
âIf the side effects are so severe, are there so many people who would drink it even with the potential benefits?â
âMy guess is that the subjects arenât doing it of their own volition, but someone is kidnapping or tricking innocent people into ingesting it.â
âHmm. Who is manufacturing the drug, and for what purpose? Demonâs blood is difficult to obtain, after all. Experimenting with it would be tricky.â
âThe purpose is presumably stabilizing the drug. It seems that adjustments are needed to increase the level of ether while suppressing side effects.â
Kleio felt like he hadnât had a drop of water in days. His throat felt dry.
ââ¦It is believed that the one who had repeatedly carried out these brutal experiments in an Albion with deep connections to Brunnen. Iâve heard rumors that someone with this red ether has appeared in provincial towns of both Brunnen and Albion around the Pintos mountains.â
âAnd you must know the name of the person with those connections.â
âThatâs right.â
âTell me.â
âHaah, it is a name I cannot dare put in my mouth as a guess because I view my own life as precious.â
Melchior smiled gently, flipped his flowing hair behind his shoulders.
âNow before you stands the sole representative of the king of Albion. Still, if you are afraid to dare mention the name, havenât you already answered it?â
That casual reaction⦠Did it mean Melchior already knew about Aslan and Juleika? Assassins with red ether had been running wild in the middle of the capital before, so Melchior wouldâve had enough time to pursue information about them. But it wasnât easy to dig through that smile, so he lowered his attitude.
âYou may already be preparing a countermeasure to stop the cruel experiment, but I was surprised to hear about it, so I apologize for taking some inappropriate behaviors.â n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om
âWell. It was an area somewhat overlooked, but I was in a hurry to inform my brother that his hobby was somewhat out of reach.â
âHobbyâ¦â
âHow presumptuous.â
After hearing Melchiorâs answer, Kleio suddenly realized that the prince seemed reasonably happy. The prince knew of Aslanâs biological experiments and was neglecting them.
âNo, itâs not neglect. He has no heart to stop it.â
âOf course, I will admit that it was difficult to grasp the reality as it was the first incident I encountered in my life.â
Kleio knew the origin of the princeâs joy. Aslanâs raging about was also the first time it happened to Melchior, so how could he not be happy? This man, who had lived nine lives, couldnât distinguish between good and evil like those who lived only once. However, it wasnât acceptable, even though it might be understandable. Kleioâs fists clenched subconsciously as the illusory scent of rot passed by his noise. Geheimâs pain, his deteriorating humanity as he was imprisoned with others to suffer. All of that was an act that made human life insignificant.
Kleio couldnât forget the moment when the singerâs body collapsed in his arms.
âI believe many innocent citizens of Albion and Brunnen would be sacrificed. Itâs an issue that shouldnât be left unattended.â
Kleioâs tone was still calm, but Melchior could sense faint anger in his words.
âDo you want to argue that their deaths are an irreparable tragedy?â
Melchior looked down at Kleio with warm turquoise eyes, a faint vermillion light in their center.
âYou have a strong predictive unique skill, being chosen by God. Still, youâre trying to insist that you donât know how this world is structured. Just know one thing, Sir Kleio. Youâre poor at lying.â
The crown prince was convinced that Kleio knew of the worldâs repetition.
âTime is this world is circling. Even those who have died now will be alive again in the next phase. Why would you mourn those deaths?â
Kleio froze. It was clear that men should not kill their fellow men, whether it was in the real world or in this one. But in a place where the dead returned, what ethics could survive? The princeâs smile deepened before the wizardâs silence.
âThe lost flowers arenât completely dead; theyâll bloom again when the sun passes, and the season returns. If you garden as a hobby, you will understand what I mean.â
Kleio realized now more than ever that human life wasnât worth as much as flowers to Melchior.
âEven if history repeats itself if you donât have a complete memory of the repetition, then death is just death. Donât you know? Even if you can go back to what it was before, you still suffered.â
Interest began to fade in the crown princeâs face, smeared over by cold indifference.
âIf you wish to preach, I will grant you a place at church, but donât test my patience. Then, is that the end of your report?â
The prince turned his gaze to the wall clock, readying himself to leave, but Kleio answered urgently.
âSo, isnât it that the prince really wants the season to come when no other flowers will ever bloom in Godâs garden?â
Ultimately, it was a straightforward question that asked if he wanted to stop this repetition. The vermillion light in his eyes expanded like a flame as if he were trying to trigger his skill. Kleio increased his Separation intensity to the max as a sense of pressure bore down on the office. However, Melchior soon regained his composure.
âGodâs garden, what an accurate expression. Yes, if you look down on this world from afar, it might seem to be a garden of pleasure. Do you know, Sir Kleio? Under the gardenâs idyllic landscape, the cycle of death and life lurks, that struggle for survival to eat or be eaten. As difficult as it is to bloom flowers, it isnât easy to prevent a weed from growing. You canât see the results of the work today or tomorrow. In order to plant even a small flower, you need to have the patience that could last yearsâ¦
âIâm pretty used to it, watching the newly blooming flowers every time. The flowers that bloom again donât spread out their petals in the same shape; their sizes are subtly different. That difference is a reward given only to those who wait.
âSo, for example, to say I werenât curious about how this magician would be refined next time, it would be a mere pretense. Someone who wasnât alive before is now standing in my office.â