Paloma Bashar, the prison warden, was alone in her room, her teeth clicking in her mouth. His fingers are tapping on the desk as if he is restless. The sound of tapping and tapping echoed in the room for a while in vain.

　It was like a habit he had when he was thinking. Whenever he was lost in thought, Paloma had a habit of trying to solve it by being alone.

　Paloma-Bashar does not rely on any other human being. Paloma-Bashar did not rely on any other human being, because she knew very well how vague and baseless human beings are in their words.

　People who don't know much, but talk like they do. Fools who speak as truth in their ridiculous ramblings. There are plenty of them in this world.

　Of course, it cannot be said that all vague words are bad. In a sense, socializing is interesting in that it allows for such ambiguity.

　Joking, making up stories, and cheerfully telling stories that are only told through rumors are also necessary skills for social interaction.

　But Paloma was not very good at it. As a noblewoman, she would try to use a social phrase or two. However, her ability to wield ambiguous words at will has never improved, even at a reasonable age.

　Therefore, in social circles, Paloma's reputation was that of an uninteresting person, no matter how far she went.

　In the best sense of the word, she was solid, but at the very least, she was not a person who could joke with joy.

　Paloma no longer wants to fix this habit. She has accepted that this is her nature. Scholarly or stubborn. Aristocratic, if you will.

　That's why Paloma does all her thinking by herself. She assumes that other people's ideas are unreliable.

　Her skeptical eyes move under her closed lids, searching for answers. Then, his tightly closed lips slowly opened.

"Hey, I know you're there. A guardian.

　It was a voice that seemed to be muttering to itself, yet it was calling out to something.

　But there was no one else in the room, not even the warden. The voice was too quiet for anyone to hear.

　But it replied with a voice that breathed in the air.

"Yes, yes, yes. Yes, yes, yes. What is it, Jailer?

　The voice was extraordinarily cheerful. There was no sign of him anywhere in the room, but his voice rang out loud and clear.

　It spoke with the obedience of Paloma's servant. The voice ran through the room, but strangely it did not leak out.

"Yes, it has, for hundreds of years. I knew your father, your grandfather, and many others before him. I had a little more work to do then. It's a lot easier now that you're here!

　The voice seemed to have a tendency to speak in rapid succession. Every time he finishes a word, he moves on to the next topic.

　This kind of thing was one of Paloma's weakest points. If I don't try to stop him, he'll go on and on.

　With a pang of annoyance in her chest, Paloma said.

Isn't it obvious? How can I so easily deal with an unknown being like you? I don't understand why your father, or even your ancestors, trusted you.

　Paloma's scornful gaze was fixed on the sky. No one was supposed to be there, in the middle of nowhere. In fact, Paloma has no idea where the voice is coming from.

　But she knew that he could be anywhere in this prison. That's who he is.

　A long, long time ago. A thing created with the best of magic, going back to the gods.

　Paloma doesn't know why it's been sitting in this prison. Neither did her father, grandfather, or any of her ancestors before them.

　But for generations, the Bashar family had used him as a messenger and sometimes as a friend. Paloma remembers that when she first heard this story, she thought it was insane.

　Why is it so easy to deal with such an unknown and unidentifiable entity? You never know when they might turn on you.

　Paloma has always had an aversion to magic and sorcery. She uses what she only vaguely understands based on a little bit of reasoning she has.

　There is no one who can give a clear answer as to why it occurs and why the power can be created. What a silly science.

　That's why deep down Paloma doesn't trust the guardians or even magic. He will continue to doubt everything until he knows it all.

　Seeing Paloma's frustrated expression, the guardian said.

"Then why have you chosen the path of the sorcerer?

　Paloma replied, "Don't talk nonsense.

It's because I don't like to leave things unanswered. Of course!

　I see, the guardian replied happily. The guardian replied happily, his jovial voice never changing. The guardian's voice remained cheerful throughout.

　Why is it that he acts like a messenger, but is so difficult to handle? Paloma sighed for the second time and spoke. She sounded very distressed.

　--There's an intruder in the prison. Seize it.



　The guard, unseen, responded in a raised voice. Didn't the warden just report that there was nothing wrong?

　Paloma listened and shook her head long and hard.

People are lazy. No matter how hard you try, your words will be laced with lies.

　He said that the warden had changed the wagon, but it was doubtful how accurate that was.

　Considering the nature of the guards, at most a few of them would have checked the wagon for any abnormalities. It's too frivolous to take that report as the truth.

　One piece of information should not be enough. There should be two or three or more. Otherwise, there is no way we can trust them.

　So, as much as it pains me to say it, Paloma uses this.

The guardian. Something must have snuck into this prison. Search every inch of it. And if necessary, capture them or take their heads.

　Paloma pondered this matter over and over. But it still didn't add up.

　How is it possible that so many merchants were attacked by night thieves and robbed of their wagons, and that most of them came back unharmed? If they were night thieves, they could have burned them all before they were robbed. That's what a thief would do. At the very least, they should destroy the wagon.

　And yet the cargo and the wagon are safe. What luck. You're too trusting. And neither are the men who don't think it's suspicious. So I'm going to assume something's up.

　Paloma is a skeptical, stubborn person to a fault. He will not bend his conclusions no matter how hard he has to.

　With one exception. The only exception to this is the guardian of this prison, the only one who serves him. The reason for this is still unknown, but Paloma trusts that this demon will not make any mistakes in this regard. Of course, she wouldn't admit it in her heart.

　The guardian said in a cheerful voice.

"Very well, sir. You can do that in your sleep, for this prison is like my five bodies.

　The voice shook the room, and then disappeared.