Vestalinu's hard footsteps echoed through the lord's house.

　It wasn't the sound of his iron-clad feet that was hard. It was not the sound of his iron-covered feet that was hard, but the way he moved his feet, which seemed to be more stiff than usual.

　This may be the first time that she has had such a hard time moving forward when she is going to see her father, Mordor Gorn. Even when he had gone before his father with the intention of being reprimanded, he would have carried himself with more dignity.

　So now, why?

　Vesterine understood that the reason was the guilt planted in her heart. It was this understanding that made her feet heavy.

　The true nature of that guilt is a doubt.

　--Bruder, tell me the name Bruder-Gerua.

　The mercenary who so foolishly slandered my father. The words are haunting.

　The more I think about it, the more I think it's a load of crap. One word that can be dismissed out of hand. I'm sure it's nothing more than a vendetta. It is common for weak people to harbor unreasonable resentment against strong people.

　But that didn't mean that Vestalinu had the smallness in his heart to crush the ruffian on the spot. She knew she was taking the long way around.

　Vestalinu's spirit is strong, yet somehow distorted. Even if the words are unwarranted, she can't swallow them unless her father tells her otherwise. If doubts come to her mind, she will not be able to move forward. And I would leave that decision to my father.

　Vestalines is convinced that she, and even more so her father, is on the right path. That's why she is so angry at him, and at the same time, it casts a shadow over her heart. The discomfort of being falsely accused of something that should be the right thing to do bites at my heart.

　I believe in my father. That's why I want him to be cleared of all doubt. I want you to crush that unreasonable talk of his. After that, I can move on.

　Vestalinu's swirling emotions filled her fingertips as she knocked on the door. From inside came the voice of her beloved father. It was strange, why was her heart pounding so hard today? And it's not because I'm expecting something. It's as if I'm afraid of something.

"Excuse me, Father.

　However, this unsettling feeling disappeared when I stepped into the room. As usual, my father welcomed me with a big smile and gave me his unreserved praise and affirmation of my actions.

　After all, my father is kind. He was a wonderful lord who loved his people and was loved by his people. There was no way that my father could have made some kind of mistake.

　As they talked as usual, Vesterine's heart gradually crushed the seeds of doubt. One by one, carefully.

"Father, there is one last thing I want to ask you...

　Vestalinu's mind had finally regained its equilibrium. It would be foolish of me to have even the slightest doubt about my father. Even though she had made it a point to be faithful, she would have to reduce the number of useless acts that would cause her to doubt her father.

　Then Vestalinu's lips opened as if to say something light.

"Bruder, do you know a man named Bruder-Gerua?

　It's an unimportant human being," Vestalynn tried to continue, but her lips involuntarily clamped shut. Her eyes trembled.

　My father is trying to act calm now.

　The only action my father took upon hearing the words was to twitch his shoulders and harden his face. He did not show any sign of agitation. From the outside, he was just thinking. Yes, that's what it looks like. That's what it would have looked like to Vestalinu.

　But Vestalinu was expecting it. She was expecting her father to say he didn't know anyone like that, without any hesitation whatsoever.

　--You don't know what my lord Mordo has done in the past, do you?

　The words he spoke to me reverberate in my ears.

　Something hard, something solid. I'm sure Vesterline heard the sound of a needle or even a larger nail piercing the heart.


　There was a splash of blood in the inn.


　I'm not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing, but it's a good thing.

I'm not sure what to make of this.

　He clicks his feet and mutters, his breath escaping his lungs.

　I called him Bruder, but he told Vestalines that was his father's name. So maybe he has another name for himself. It would be strange to keep calling him Bruder.

"I don't need you to tell me that, Lugis, I don't need you to tell me that. I don't care what your name is, I don't care. I've gotten used to my name.

　As he said this, Bruder lay down on the bed, his face contorted in a rare smile.

　After his reckless and flamboyant battle with Vestalines, Bruder's body is covered with scars, both large and small. It's called a bruise. His joints must be in a lot of pain as a result of his overexertion. Fortunately, there are no fatal wounds, but you still need to rest.

　Suddenly, I narrow my eyes.

　I didn't know that Bruder was not his real name, even in the past. In fact, I've never even felt it. He must have been doing his best to hide it. I wonder if there was some reason he couldn't tell me.



　Well, of course, he may have been concerned about me in the way that Bruder once was, or he may have just decided that there was no need to tell me.

　As I was shaking the unresolved emotions in my mind, a voice came from behind me.

Yes, Mr. Bruder is right, Lugis. Your actions are even more reckless than his. You should be very sorry for your actions.

　At the words of the saint Mattia, I felt an unintentional caress down my spine.

　I wondered why. It wasn't that her voice was stern. Rather, it was a gentle, concerned voice that sounded like a saint. But it gave me a strange chill.

"Oh, yes, of course. It's a good idea to have a good idea of what you're going to do with the money you've got.

　I'm sure you're still suffering from the pain of being swung around by Vestalines spear axe, and the pain in your joints, but I admire Bruder's boldness in being able to mutter such light words. I'm impressed. I think I'm going to sigh along with him.

　Thanks to Bruder's words, the Steel Princess disappeared from our sight without a word. I think I know where she's going. She's probably going to check with Mordor. I had feared that she would attack us without question, but it worked out pretty well.

　The only thing left to do is to hope that the seeds that were sown in the father and daughter's discussion will sprout. If not, I'll have to rethink my plan.

　But at least it's working for now. There's nothing wrong with that. It should.

"Rougis.

　As I took out my chewing tobacco, the voice of the saint echoed in the room once again. It was an ordinary voice, nothing out of the ordinary. With a slight tilt of the head, I opened my lips and a raw reply spilled from my throat.

Put away your chewing tobacco. You have something to say to me.

　I blinked my eyes at the words.

　I had no idea what I should say, and that was the truth. I don't remember making any promises to Mattia, nor do I have any specific plans for the future. In fact, what was Mattia referring to?

　My throat growled as if searching for words. Normally, this is where the saint would grumble and spew her venom, but I looked fearfully into her eyes.

　However, contrary to my expectations, Mattia's eyes still did not show any irritation, and she slowly opened her lips again. I'm not sure if it's a good idea, but it's a good idea.

"Lugis, you have once again thrown yourself into danger without my permission. So apologize to me. And do so with all your heart.

　He stroked his chin with a question mark in his head as the words echoed through the room.

　Without realizing it, I felt a pang of fear run through my heels. No, there was no such thing as danger in Mattia herself. After all, she even has a benevolent smile on her face. Yes, she should.

"You swore to me. "You swore to me you'd be proud and never do anything to jeopardize it again.

　No, I didn't say that much by any stretch of the imagination.

　I did say yes to Mattia's words. That's true. But that doesn't mean you have to accept everything. Where did my interpretation get twisted?

　But before she could even say anything about it, Mattia's lips rippled again.

So, Lugis, apologies, please?　Ask for forgiveness. To me.

　A shiver ran down my spine. In spite of the fact that the words coming out of Mattia's mouth have the unmistakable charity of a saint, there is something about them that sounds as if they are chasing me down.

　I took a step backwards, unaware that I had just taken a step backwards.