Chapter 3 - Chapter 3 The Finders and The Found

After taking the old woman to her house, Sebas proceeded toward his original

destination.

He arrived at a place with a long wall.

Beyond the wall were three five-story towers. With no buildings higher

than that nearby, they seemed especially tall.

Those towers were surrounded by several long, thin two-story buildings.

This was the headquarters of the kingdom's wizards' guild. They needed

spacious grounds because they were developing new spells and training

arcane casters. The reason they had so much land despite receiving barely

any support from the government was probably because they were the sole

producers of magical items.

Eventually the sturdy-looking gate came into view. The latticed door was

open wide, and multiple armed guards occupied the two-story towers on

either side.

The guards didn't stop him—just glanced at him—and Sebas went

through the gate. Beyond, there was a broad, gently sloping staircase and a

door leading to an impressive, old white-walled building. Of course, the door

was open to welcome visitors.

Inside was a small entrance hall and then a lobby. From the double-height

ceiling hung several chandeliers burning with magic light.

On the right was the lobby lounge, which had several sofas and a few

casters engaged in conversation. On the left side was the board. Figures clad

in robes appropriate for arcane casters and other people who seemed like

adventurers were studiously observing the pieces of parchment posted there.

In the back, a few young men and women were seated behind a counter.

They each wore a robe with the emblem displayed at the building entrance

embroidered on their chests.

To either side of the counter stood what resembled life-size mannequins,

slender figures with no eyes or noses—wood golems. Apparently, they were

guards. The lack of human guards, except for the ones outside, was likely a

display of the wizards' guild confidence.

Sebas's measured footfalls clicked across the floor as he approached the

counter.

A young man at the counter noticed him and communicated a modest

salutation with his eyes. Sebas gave a slight bow in return. He visited often,

so they knew each other.

The young man smiled in a barely perceptible way when Sebas arrived in

front of him, and he greeted him as always. "Welcome to the wizards' guild,

Sir Sebas. What can I do for you?"

"I would like to buy a magic scroll. May I see the usual list?"

"Yes, sir."

The young man quickly put a rather large book on the counter. He'd

probably secretly gotten it ready the moment he caught sight of Sebas.

The book was a splendid item with high-quality thin white paper inside

and a leather cover. Considering the letters of the title were sewn in with gold

thread, this item itself had to be worth quite a bit.

Sebas pulled the book nearer and opened it.

Unfortunately, the writing was not in letters he could read. Or rather, no

one from Yggdrasil would be able to read them. Even if they could

understand spoken language through some strange law of this universe,

writing was different.

But Sebas had received an item from his master to resolve just such a

problem.

Sebas reached into his pocket, took out a case, and opened it. Inside was a

pair of eyeglasses. The slim frames were made of a metal similar to silver.

Upon closer inspection, one could make out tiny characters, like crests,

etched into them. The lenses were blue frost crystal, cut and polished thin.

When he put on the glasses, he was magically able to read the letters.

While carefully yet quickly turning the pages, Sebas's hand suddenly

stopped. He looked up from the book and addressed the woman sitting next

to the young man behind the counter. "Did you need something?"

"Oh no…" The woman blushed and lowered her eyes. "I was just

thinking…you have nice posture."

"Thank you." He smiled faintly, and the woman's face turned even

redder.

Sebas was a white-haired gentleman people fell for just from looking at

him. Not only did his attractive features draw attention, but his air of

elegance did as well. When he walked down the street, nine out of ten

women, regardless of age, turned to watch him. If the woman at reception

lost herself staring at him, there was nothing to be done, and it happened

often enough, anyway.

Now that he understood the situation, Sebas turned back to the book. He

stopped again on a specific page and asked the young man, "Could you give

me a detailed description of what this spell, Floating Board, does?"

"Yes, sir." He began the explanation without missing a beat. "Floating

Board is a tier-one spell that creates a translucent hovering board. The size of

the board and maximum weight limit depend on the caster's magical energy,

but when it's cast with a scroll, the board is about three feet squared and the

weight limit is one hundred and ten pounds. The board can go up to five

yards away from the caster, and the caster can have it follow them. It only

follows, however; it's not possible to push it forward, and if the caster should

turn around, it will slowly circle around to remain at the rear. It's a spell that

is generally used for carrying things, often seen on public works construction

sites."

"I see." Sebas nodded. "Then I would like to buy one of these."

"Yes, sir."

The young man showed no surprise at Sebas buying a spell that was not

terribly popular—the reason being that Sebas almost always bought

unpopular spells. The guild was grateful for it, since it helped get rid of their

excess inventory.

"Will that be one scroll, sir?"

"Yes, please."

The young man nodded slightly at the man sitting next to him.

The man, who had been listening to the conversation, stood immediately,

opened a door in the rear wall that led to the back, and went in. Scrolls were

very expensive. It wouldn't do to just have big stacks of them there at the

counter, even if the place was guarded.

About five minutes later, the man returned. In his hand was one rolled-up

piece of parchment.

"Here you are, sir."

Sebas examined the scroll on the counter. The rolled-up parchment

seemed very sturdy and looked different from run-of-the-mill writing

material. The spell's name was written on it in black ink, and Sebas made

sure it matched the spell he had requested. Then he finally took off the

glasses.

"Yes, that's the one. I'll take this, please."

"Thank you." The young man politely bowed his head. "This scroll is a

tier-one spell, so that will be one gold and ten silvers."

A potion of the same level made only with magic cost two gold, so the

scroll was relatively cheap. That stemmed from the fact that a person usually

couldn't activate scrolls unless they could already use the same family of

spells. It made perfect sense that potions, which anyone could use, would be

more expensive.

Of course, even if the spell was cheap, it was still quite a sum for an

ordinary person—it was a month and a half's salary. But for Sebas—no, for

the master Sebas served—it was not so much.

Sebas took a leather pouch from his breast pocket. He loosened the

opening, removed eleven coins, and gave them to the young man.

"With exact change." The young man didn't do anything like checking to

make sure the coins were proper currency in front of Sebas. He was a

frequent enough customer to have built that kind of trust.

"That old man is so cool!"

"Totally!"

As Sebas left the wizards' guild, the receptionists, especially the women,

chatted together excitedly.

They acted more like girls who had met the prince they pined for rather

than women of poise and intelligence. One of the men behind the counter had

a slightly jealous frown on his face, but he didn't say anything because he

himself could see how elegant Sebas was.

"He must have experience serving a pretty important noble. I wouldn't be

surprised if he was the third son of a noble himself!"

Nobles who didn't inherit their houses often became butlers or maids, and

the higher a noble's rank, the more likely they were to specifically hire this

type of person. Sebas's bearing was so impeccable, it made sense to think he

must have been of noble blood.

"He carries himself so beautifully."

Everyone seated behind the counter nodded.

"If he invited me to tea, I'd definitely go!"

"Yeah, me too! Definitely!"

The girls squealed.

The men talked among themselves with sidelong glances at the girls, who

were still going on about how he probably knew tremendously sophisticated

places and how he would do absolutely everything an escort should do.

"He seems to be incredibly knowledgeable. Do you think he's a caster?"

"I wonder. Maybe."

All the spells he chose had been developed only recently. From that, they

could infer that he had some degree of magical knowledge. If he were

coming to buy something on orders from a superior, he shouldn't have

needed to look at the book; he could have just asked for the scroll by name.

The fact that he didn't do so—but consulted the reference himself—meant

that Sebas was the one choosing what to buy.

It was only natural to think that he was no mere old man but had to be

someone with specialized magic education—a caster.

"And those glasses… They looked really expensive."

"I wonder if they're magic."

"Nah, they just seem like high-quality glasses—made by dwarves or

something."

"Yeah, it's amazing he has such fancy glasses."

"I wanna meet that pretty lady he brought with him that one time again,"

one man murmured, but he was met with disagreement.

"Really? She seemed kinda all appearances and nothing else, you know?"

"Yeah, I felt bad for Sebas. Seems like she really works him hard."

"She was pretty, but her personality is definitely awful. Even the way she

looked at us was the worst. I really pity him having to serve someone like

that."

The men fell silent as the women began criticizing the lady. Sebas's

master was a peerless beauty, the type who could steal hearts in the blink of

an eye. The women there were each beautiful enough to be chosen to

represent the wizards' guild, but the difference between them and her was

night and day. The guys wanted to tell them, Don't be jealous, but it was

obvious what would happen if they did that.

None of them was that stupid, so…

"Okay, that's enough chatter." The young man spotted an adventurer

walking toward the counter, and the group immediately changed their focus

and expressions.

26 Mid-Fire Moon (August) 4:06 PM

Exiting the wizards' guild, Sebas casually checked the sky.

Things had taken longer than planned because he'd escorted that old

woman home, and the blue was gradually turning a deep red.

When he took his watch out of his breast pocket, it was already the time

he'd planned to be home, but he still hadn't finished his errand. It's fine if I

leave it for tomorrow, so should I put it off? Or should I get home later than

planned but finish everything today?

He hesitated only a moment.

The incident with the old woman had been his own doing, so he needed to

fulfill his duties.

"Shadow demon…"

A presence squirmed in Sebas's shadow.

"Please tell Solution I'll be back late. That is all."

There was no answer, but the presence stirred and then receded, moving

from shadow to shadow.

"Now, then," murmured Sebas as he set off walking.

He didn't have any particular destination; he was attempting to get a

complete picture of the capital's geography. He hadn't been specifically

ordered to do so, but he'd decided to voluntarily as part of his intelligence

gathering.

"Okay, I guess today I'll go that way," he murmured, stroked his beard,

and twirled the scroll he carried in one hand. He was acting like a kid in a

good mood.

He walked farther and farther away from the safe area at the center of the

capital.

After he turned and continued down several roads, the alleys started

getting a bit dirty and sending a faint but unpleasant smell. It was the stench

of raw garbage and filth. It seemed like it would permeate clothing, but Sebas

strode silently on.

He stopped abruptly and looked around. Perhaps because he was on a total

backstreet, the alley was so narrow there was only enough room for two

people to pass by each other.

Since the sun was low behind the tall, deserted buildings on either side of

the small alley, no light came in, and it would have been difficult for a human

to walk there. But Sebas didn't have any problem. He walked with noiseless

steps, melting into the darkness.

He had turned several corners and proceeded to even more deserted areas,

when suddenly his unhesitating steps stopped.

He'd arrived here by walking aimlessly as his whims dictated, but he'd

ventured quite a ways from the house that was his base. He had a general

instinctive sense of where he was, and he drew a line from there to his base in

his mind.

With Sebas's physical strength, it wasn't such a long distance, but that

was if he walked in a straight line. If he followed the streets, it would take

quite a while. Considering night was falling, it was probably a good idea to

head back.

He wasn't worried about Solution, who was living with him.

Even if an incredibly powerful enemy appeared, there was a monster in

her shadow, just as there was one in Sebas's. It could definitely buy her

enough time to run away. Still…

"Guess I'll go home."

It was true that he wanted to stroll a bit more, but he doubted it was very

good to allot too much time to something that was practically a hobby. But

even if he was going to withdraw, he wanted to at least see what was up

ahead, so he continued down the small alley.

As Sebas proceeded silently through the darkness, a heavy-looking iron

door about fifteen yards ahead of him began slowly opening with a grating

sound, without warning, and light spilled from inside. Sebas stopped and

watched in silence to see what would happen.

Once the door was all the way open, a person's face poked out. The

backlighting allowed Sebas to see only the silhouette, but it appeared to be a

man's. He scanned the road but apparently didn't discover Sebas because he

returned inside without incident.

The man tossed a rather large cloth bag outside with a thud. Sebas could

see its soft contents bend and change shape by the light escaping through the

door.

Although the door was still open, the man who had thrown the bag like it

was trash seemed to have gone back inside for the moment and didn't do

anything else.

Sebas furrowed his brow for a moment and wondered whether he should

stay his course or proceed in a different direction. This seemed like a bad

situation.

After some brief indecision, he decided to continue down the narrow alley

now that it was quiet again.

"…Unf!"

The opening of the big bag ripped.

Sebas's steps echoed along the alley, finally closing the distance between

him and the bag.

As he was about to pass it, he stopped.

He felt a faint sensation as if his slacks had caught on something. He

looked down and saw what he expected—a bony hand reaching out to grab

the cuff of his pants. And the half-naked woman coming out of the bag.

The mouth of the sack was wide open now, and the woman's upper body

was free.

Her blue eyes had lost their spark and gone dull. Her disheveled shoulderlength hair was coarse due to malnutrition. Her face had been beaten until it

swelled up like a ball. Her skin, dry as a dead tree, was covered with

countless pink spots the size of fingernails.

There was not so much as a thimbleful of life left in her emaciated body.

She was already a corpse. No, she wasn't dead, of course. The fact that

she'd snatched Sebas's cuff spoke volumes to that. But can an organism that

is only capable of breathing be said to be alive?

"…Could you let go, please?"

There was no response to Sebas's request. It was clear at a glance that she

wasn't ignoring him. Her eyes reflected nothing, cast into space through the

barely open slits below her swollen eyelids.

If Sebas moved his leg, he could easily shake off those fingers weaker

than dead branches. But instead, he asked, "…Are you in trouble? If so—"

"Hey, old man, where'd you come from?" a threatening voice interrupted.

The man had reappeared in the doorway. He had a big chest and thick

arms, and hostility clearly showed on his scarred face as he turned his

penetrating gaze on Sebas. In his hand, he held a lantern—it glowed red.

"Hey, hey, hey, old man. Whaddaya lookin' at?" The man loudly clicked

his tongue and gestured with his chin. "Get lost. If you leave now, you can

get home safe."

When he saw Sebas wasn't moving, he took a step forward. Behind him,

the door closed heavily. As a threat, the man placed the lantern near his feet

with exaggerated purpose. "Hey, old man! You goin' deaf? Can't you hear

me?" He rotated his shoulders and stretched his neck. He slowly brought his

right hand up and curled it into a fist. It was clear he wasn't the type who

hesitated to use violence.

"Hmm…" Sebas smiled. He could be described as an elderly gentleman

with a profound smile that put people at ease and made them feel cared for.

So why did the man back up a step as if a predatory beast had suddenly

arrived?

"Ahh, hey, hey, wh—" Under the crushing pressure of Sebas's smile,

words that weren't words trickled from the man's mouth. Without even

realizing that his breath had grown ragged, he backed up farther.

Sebas tucked the scroll in his hand, with the wizards' guild seal on it, into

his belt. Then he took one measured step toward the man to close the distance

between them and reached out. The man couldn't even react. With a sound

that was barely a sound, the hand clutching Sebas's slacks fell onto the street.

With that as the signal, Sebas grabbed the man's collar with his

outstretched arm and lifted him up with no trouble.

Had there been any witnesses to this scene, they would have thought it

was a joke.

Judging the two on appearances alone, Sebas would have had no chance

against this man. Youthfulness, breadth of chest, girth of arms, height,

weight, and aura of violence—he was beat in any category.

But the elderly gentleman was lifting up this robust, heavyweight-class

guy with one hand.

—No, perhaps someone witnessing this scene would have keenly felt the

gap between these two men. It's said that the intuitions of humans—their

animal instincts—are dull, but they still probably would have been able to

detect this unmistakable gap.

The difference between Sebas and this man was the difference between…

…absolute strength and absolute weakness.

The man, who had been lifted completely off the ground, kicked both legs

and squirmed. Then he tried to take hold of Sebas's arms, and the fear born of

sudden realization shone in his eyes.

It had finally dawned on him—that the old man before him was

something completely different from what he appeared, that any futile

struggling would only further anger the monster.

"This woman, what is she?" The quiet voice sounded in the petrified

man's ears.

The voice flowed with the quiet of a clear stream. It was terrifying

precisely because it clashed with the context, how he was effortlessly holding

a man aloft with one hand.

"A-an employee of ours," the frantic man replied in a voice cracking with

fear.

"I asked you 'what' she is. Your answer is 'an employee'?"

The man wondered if he had said something wrong. But in this situation,

that answer should have been the most accurate. The man's bulging eyes

flitted around like he was a petrified little animal.

"No, I have friends who treat humans as things. I thought perhaps you

might treat them that way as well. In that case, you wouldn't be doing

anything wrong. But you told me she's an employee. That means you're

taking these actions despite recognizing her as a person. Then allow me to

ask another question. What will happen to her now?"

The man thought for a moment. But—

There came a noise like a creak.

Sebas's grip strengthened, and the man suddenly found it more difficult to

breathe.

"Gugh!" He let out a strange scream.

Sebas's meaning was clear: I'm not giving you any time to think—just

talk.

"Sh-she's sick so we're taking her to the shrine."

"I'm not very fond of lies."

"Kgh-eegh!" The man let out another bizarre shriek, his face reddening

with every increasing application of force from Sebas's hand.

Even if Sebas made the massive concession of assuming this person had

put the woman in the bag to transport her, the fact that she'd been tossed into

the road gave no indication of the care of one taking her to a shrine for

treatment. It had been more akin to throwing out the trash.

"Sto— Gah!" Now struggling to breathe, the pinned man began fearing

for his life and flailed about wildly without thinking.

Sebas intercepted the fists coming at his face without trouble. The man's

kicks connected with his body and dirtied his clothes, but the older man

didn't budge.

Of course he didn't.

Something so insignificant as a human's feet wouldn't affect a giant lump

of steel. Sebas continued speaking, unfazed as if the kicks from the thick legs

didn't cause him any pain.

"I recommend telling the truth."

"Gagh…"

Sebas squinted up at the man whose face had gone crimson from lack of

air. Aiming for the moment right before the man passed out, he let go.

The man crashed down on the road with a loud thud.

"Gehgyaaagh!" The man expelled the last remnants of air in his lungs as a

scream.

Sebas stared down at him as he gasped for oxygen and then reached his

hand toward his neck again.

"Whoa, w-wait a minute!" Enduring the pain and thoroughly impressed

with fear, the man rolled away from Sebas's outstretched hand.

"I— Yes, I was going to take her to the shrine!"

That's a lie, isn't it? You're tougher than you look.

Sebas had thought the man would break immediately under the terror of

suffering and death, but although he was scared, he didn't seem ready to talk

so easily. That meant the danger he would face after leaking information was

equal to the threat Sebas posed.

Sebas considered changing his vector of attack. This was, in a way, enemy

territory. The fact that the man wasn't requesting backup from inside meant

that he didn't expect anyone would come quickly. Still, if Sebas stayed here

too long, it would surely make things more complicated.

His master hadn't ordered him to cause trouble. The order he'd received

was to blend in and quietly gather intelligence.

"If you were going to take her to the shrine, then I don't suppose there is

any issue if I bring her there myself? I will take custody of her now."

The man's shocked eyes darted around. Then he desperately strung some

words together. "…There's no proof you'll actually do it."

"Then why don't we go together?"

"I have an errand to run now, so I can't. That's why I'm taking her later."

Sensing something from Sebas's expression, he quickly continued. "She's

legally ours. If you lay a hand on her, you'll be violating this country's laws!

Just try and take her—that's abduction!"

Sebas froze and furrowed his brow for the first time.

This argument had struck a critical location.

His master had said that attracting attention to some degree was

unavoidable, but that was necessary while playing the butler of a rich man's

daughter.

If he broke the law, the authorities would be involved, and there was a

chance someone would see through his disguise. In other words, it could

directly cause a huge fuss—and he would attract the kind of notice his master

didn't desire.

Sebas had a hard time believing this coarse man was educated, but his

words overflowed with confidence. Someone must have put these ideas about

laws into his head. If that was true, there was a good chance this defense

would hold.

Now, with no witnesses present, it was a simple matter. He could

physically force his captive to talk. He could leave a corpse here by simply

snapping the man's neck.

But that was his last resort, to be used only in the event that this situation

threatened to affect his master's plans. He couldn't do that for this woman he

didn't even know.

So does that mean the correct thing to do would be to abandon her?

The man's vulgar laugh irritated Sebas as he vacillated.

"Should such a splendid butler take on a big problem like this and keep it

a secret from his maaaster?"

Sebas frowned openly at the grinning man for the first time.

The man must have gleaned a hint of weakness from his reaction. "I

dunno what noble you serve, but…if this blows up, won't it cause trouble for

him? Huh? And what if he has a good relationship with us? He'll get pissed,

won't he?"

"You think my master can't handle a little thing like this? Rules exist to

be broken by the powerful, you know."

The man flinched a bit as if he had an idea how that worked, but he

regained his confidence a moment later. "…So you wanna try it, then? Huh?"

"Hmm…" It didn't seem Sebas's bluff was going to make the man stand

down. Does he truly have such a powerful backer? Sebas judged this line of

attack to be ineffective and switched angles. "…I see. Yes, this does seem

like it could be troublesome, legally speaking. But there is also a provision in

the law that allows forcible rescue when someone calls for aid. I'm simply

helping her in line with this clause. To begin with, she's unconscious, so she

needs to visit the shrine for treatment, yes?"

"Mn…bu…that's…" The man mumbled, at a loss.

His ignorance was exposed.

Sebas was relieved at the man's inability to act and slow-working brain.

He'd told a huge lie, something that sounded plausible, since his opponent

had brought up legalities.

If the man were to counter with another argument, even a lie, Sebas didn't

have enough knowledge of the laws of this country to fight back. In the end,

he had only a smattering of legal knowledge, and not studying it more

thoroughly was what had landed him in this situation.

On the other hand, someone with only a fragmentary understanding of the

law would hesitate when it was brandished in a fight. Plus, this man had to be

an underling. He probably didn't have the authority to make any decisions on

his own.

Sebas turned away from the man and held up the woman's head. "Do you

want me to help you?" he asked. Then he brought his ear to the woman's dry,

chapped lips.

What he heard was faint breathing, respiration that could be mistaken for

the last gasp of a deflating balloon.

There was no reply. Sebas shook his head slightly and asked again, "Do

you want me to help you?"

Helping her was completely different from helping the old lady. He

wanted to assist others whenever he could, but if he got involved with this

woman, there was a good chance it would lead to a fair amount of trouble.

And when he considered whether the Supreme One would forgive him or

whether this went against his will, a cold wind blew through his heart.

Still no reply.

The man quietly laughed that vulgar laugh again.

As someone who understood what hell she had been in, he knew there

would be no reply. If she had been able to speak freely, they probably

wouldn't have tried disposing of her like this.

True luck would not occur twice in a row—because things that happened

so frequently couldn't be called luck.

No, if grabbing Sebas's slacks had been that woman's luck, she wasn't

going to receive a windfall again.

Her fortune had been the fact that Sebas happened to come down this

alley at the right moment. Everything that occurred after, she achieved with

her will to live.

It was definitely not luck.

A slight movement…

Yes, her lips made a truly feeble movement. It was not an automatic one,

like for breathing. It clearly contained her intent.

"—"

Upon hearing what she said, Sebas nodded emphatically. "…I'm not

interested in saving every single person who asks me for help like a plant

expecting to bathe in the rain from the heavens. However, when someone is

struggling to survive…" Sebas's hand moved to cover the woman's eyes.

"Let go of your fear and rest. You are under my protection now."

Clinging to his warm, kind touch, she closed her vacant eyes.

The man couldn't believe it, so naturally, he tried to say what was on his

mind. "It's a li—" You didn't hear her voice, he was about to snap but froze.

"A lie, you say?" At some point, Sebas had stood up, and now the gleam

in his eyes pierced the man.

Those brutal eyes.

The man's breath caught—it felt like his heart would be crushed under

such a gaze, one that seemed to weigh on him with physical pressure.

"Are you saying that I lied the way you did?"

"Ah, nn, uh…" The man gulped loudly, swallowing the spit that had

pooled in his mouth. His eyes moved to Sebas's arms and stuck there like

glue. Perhaps after getting ahead of himself, he remembered his fear.

"Well, I'm going to take her and go now."

"W-wait—I mean, please wait!" The man raised his voice and Sebas

glanced at him.

"You still have something to say? Are you trying to buy time?"

"N-no. If you take her away, there's going to be trouble. For you and for

your master! You've heard of the Eight Fingers, I'm sure!"

Sebas remembered hearing the name during his intelligence gathering. It

was a criminal organization that dominated the kingdom's underground

world.

"So I'm tellin' ya, just pretend you didn't see anything. If you take her

away, I'll have failed at my job, and they'll punish me!"

Realizing he couldn't win with strength, the man tried for pity, but Sebas

turned a chilly gaze on him and answered in an icier voice. "I'm taking her

and going."

"Give me a break! They're gonna kill me!"

Should I kill him now? Sebas thought. The man's moaning continued as

he calculated out the pros and cons.

It was possible the man was buying time because he was waiting for help,

but Sebas judged from his attitude that that wasn't the case. But he couldn't

figure out why.

"Why haven't you called for assistance?"

Stunned, the man rapidly explained.

Essentially, if Sebas were to escape while he was calling for help, it would

be as good as reporting to his compatriots that he'd made a critical error. And

he didn't think he'd be able to win by force even if he called them. That was

why he was trying to persuade Sebas to change his mind.

He was so pathetic that Sebas suddenly felt the strength drain out of him,

and his urge to kill went away. Still, it didn't mean he was going to hand over

the woman. So…

"…Why don't you run away?"

"That's not an option. I don't have that kind of money."

"I doubt it costs as much as your life itself, but…anyhow, I'll pay for it."

At those words, the man's face brightened.

Sebas knew it was safer to kill him, but if he could get him to make a

desperate escape, it would buy time. Then he had to heal the woman and take

her someplace safe.

Besides, if Sebas killed him here, there was a good chance they'd launch a

search for the missing woman. Since it was unclear how she'd gotten in this

situation, it wasn't possible to conclude that his actions wouldn't endanger

people who knew her.

Mulling it over, Sebas wondered why he was doing something so risky.

He truly couldn't fathom where the ripple in his heart that caused him to

try to save her had come from. Anyone else from Nazarick would have

ignored her to avoid trouble. They would have stayed hands-off and kept

walking.

When someone's in trouble, it's only natural to help them.

Sebas put aside the workings of his heart even he could not explain, since

he didn't need to be thinking about them right now, and answered the man.

"Take this, hire an adventurer or something, and run with all your might." He

took out a leather pouch.

The man's eyes were doubtful. Perhaps he didn't feel the amount in the

small bag would be enough.

The next moment, his eyes were riveted on the coins falling onto the

street. They sparkled like bright silver—platinum trade currency. Ten coins

worth ten gold pieces each lay on the ground.

"Run as fast as you can. You understand, right? And I have a few

questions. Do you have time to answer?"

"Yeah, it's fine. I came out to dispose—er, to take that woman to the

shrine, so they'll assume I'm a little late coming back."

"Understood. Then let's go." With that, he jerked his chin to say follow

me, picked up the woman, and set off walking.

2

26 Mid-Fire Moon (August) 6:58 PM

Sebas's lodgings were in one of the royal capital's better neighborhoods, a

house in what could be called a luxury residential district.

It was cozy compared to the mansions lining the streets nearby, but it had

probably been built with the assumption that two servant families would also

live there. It was way too big for only Sebas and Solution.

Naturally, there was a reason they rented such a mansion. As long as they

were disguised as a great merchant family hailing from faraway lands, they

couldn't very well live in a shabby residence. To do it, though, with no

connections or reputation at the construction guild, they'd had to pay an

absurd sum up front, many times the going market rate.

When they arrived and went through the door, there was someone to meet

them. It was a combat maid in a white dress, Solution Epsilon, who worked

directly under Sebas. The other residents included shadow demons and

gargoyles, but since they were there as guards, they didn't come to the door.

"Welcome ba—" Solution lost her words and froze mid-bow. She directed

a frostier gaze than normal at the woman Sebas held against his chest.

"…Master Sebas, what in the world is that?"

"I found her."

For a moment, Solution gave no response to that short answer, but the air

grew heavy. "…I see. It doesn't look like a souvenir for me, so what are you

planning on doing with it?"

"Hmm. Well, for starters, could you heal her wounds for me?"

"Wounds?" Solution took a look at the woman, shook her head once she

understood, and then fixed her eyes on Sebas. "Couldn't you have left her at

a shrine?"

"…Yes. I probably should have thought of that…" Unshaken, Sebas

regarded Solution with cold eyes, and for a brief moment, their gazes met.

Solution was the first to look away.

"Shall I dispose of her?"

"No, I've brought her this far. We should think of a good use for her."

"…Understood."

Solution didn't have a very rich range of expression to begin with, but her

face was blank and even Sebas couldn't comprehend the spark of emotion in

her eyes. Still, it was very clear that she was not welcome to this idea.

"First, could you please assess her physical health?"

"Understood. Then allow me—"

"Wait…" Perhaps to Solution, the woman didn't warrant any more care

than the absolute minimum, but Sebas didn't think she needed to be

examined in the entryway. "We have an open room, so could I ask you to do

it there?"

Solution bowed her head silently.

They didn't speak to each other while they carried the woman from the

entryway to the guest room. Neither Solution nor Sebas was the type to make

idle chatter, but there was another reason—something was off.

Solution opened the guest room door for Sebas, since his hands were full.

The room was dark because its heavy curtains were drawn, but it wasn't

stuffy at all. It had been opened several times, so the air was fresh, and it was

cleaned regularly.

In the room illuminated by only a sliver of moonlight through the gap in

the curtains, Sebas gently laid the woman down on top of the bed's clean

sheets.

He had performed minimal first aid by pouring chi into her, but given the

way she didn't move a muscle, the woman made him think of a corpse.

"Okay, then."

Solution carelessly ripped off the cloth wrapped around the woman and

revealed her battered body. It was a pitiful, awful sight, but Solution's

unchanging expression was bland and uninterested.

"…Solution, I'll let you take it from here." With that, Sebas left the room.

Solution, who had begun palpating the woman, didn't attempt to stop him.

Once he was in the hallway, he whispered in a voice that wouldn't reach

Solution: "This is foolish." The words immediately vanished into the

hallway, and naturally, there was no one to respond.

Sebas fingered his beard unconsciously. Why did I save that woman? He

couldn't hit upon a precise reason. "The lion spares the suppliant," I guess?

No, that wasn't it. Why did I save her?

Sebas was the butler who performed steward duties at the Great Tomb of

Nazarick and had completely devoted himself to the Forty-One Supreme

Beings. He should have been serving and surrendering everything to the one

who had taken on the name Ainz Ooal Gown, the guild master.

There was nothing fraudulent about his loyalty, and as an utterly faithful

servant, he wouldn't hesitate to throw away his life for his master.

Still, if he had to choose only one Supreme Being to swear his allegiance,

he knew who he would attend—Touch Me.

Touch Me was the strongest member of Ainz Ooal Gown and Sebas's

creator. Second to none, he'd attained the class of world champion.

Their guild grew stronger by killing players, among other things. Who

would believe that the original purpose of the group he first formed—the

guild's predecessor, the First Nine—was to aid the weak? But it was true.

He'd saved Momon when he was getting PK'd constantly and was about

to quit the game out of frustration. Next, he reached out to BubblingTeapot,

who couldn't find anyone to quest with due to her unfortunate appearance.

Touch Me's lingering intentions wound around Sebas like an invisible

chain.

"I guess this is a curse…" That language was probably blasphemous. If

any of the other inhabitants of the Great Tomb of Nazarick—those created by

the Forty-One Supreme Beings—heard him, it was possible they would

attack him for his disrespect.

"It isn't right to pity those who do not belong to Ainz Ooal Gown," he

whispered gravely.

That was completely natural.

Everyone believed that disregarding outsiders was correct, excepting

certain members of Nazarick who had been designed by their creators to be

different, such as the head maid, Pestonia S. Puppydog.

For example, he'd received a report from Solution that Lupusregina, one

of the Pleiades, was getting along well with a girl in Carne, but Sebas knew

that if the situation demanded it, she would cut that girl down with zero

hesitation.

It wasn't because she was cold-blooded.

If a Supreme One ordered them to die, they had to die, and if they were

ordered to kill someone, even a friend, they had to kill them immediately.

That was true loyalty. Conversely, anyone who couldn't understand that

received pity from their fellows.

Making judgments based on foolish emotions was wrong.

So what about me? Is the action I took correct? Sebas was chewing his lip

over his worries when Solution came out of the room. Her face was

expressionless as usual.

"How did it go?"

"…She has syphilis and two other STDs. Multiple fractured ribs and

fingers. Severed tendons in the right arm and left leg. Both top and bottom

front teeth are missing. Her organs don't seem to be functioning very well.

She also has an anal fissure. She may be addicted to some kind of drug. Since

she has innumerable bruises and lacerations, I'll take the liberty of omitting

the details, but…is there any other explanation you require?"

"No, that's fine. There's only one important thing: Will she get better?"

"Easily."

Sebas had expected this immediate response.

Using healing abilities, even someone with their limbs cut off could

recover, so if Sebas used his chi kung, he could completely heal her physical

damage. Actually, if all of Nazarick weren't in a state of emergency and he

hadn't been worried about intelligence leaks, he could have healed that old

woman's twisted ankle earlier on the road.

Despite the ability to restore strength, chi kung couldn't properly dispel

poison or cure diseases. Sebas hadn't acquired those skills. That was why he

needed Solution's help for this.

"Okay, please heal her."

"If you want someone who can use healing magic, it might be better to

summon Mistress Pestonia."

"That won't be necessary. Solution, you have the appropriate magic

scrolls, don't you?" After she nodded, he continued, "Then please use those."

"…Master Sebas. These scrolls were given to us by the Supreme Beings. I

hardly think they should be used on the likes of humans."

She was right. He probably needed to devise a different solution. First,

they would heal her wounds to prevent her from dying and fix her poisoned

and diseased status at some later point. The question was whether they had

that much time. If she was nearing death due to her overall condition instead

of merely her wounds, it would be pointless to restore her strength unless he

did it permanently.

Sebas hesitated and then, in a steely voice that masked his inner feelings,

told her, "Do it."

He thought he saw something reddish black flicker in the back of

Solution's narrowing eyes, but the change was hidden as she bowed her head.

"…Understood. I should restore her body back to its uninjured state?

Back to before any of those things were done to her?" When Sebas nodded,

she bowed politely. "I'll do it right away."

"Then when you're done treating her, can I have you heat up some water

and bathe her? I'm going to go buy some food."

There was no one else in the mansion who could make or required meals.

If they didn't have a spare magic item that would render eating unnecessary,

they would have to arrange food for the woman.

"…Master Sebas. It's a simple matter to treat her body…but I can't treat

her mental distress." Pausing there, she looked straight at him. "To care for

her mental needs, I think summoning Lord Ainz would be best. Shall I call

him?"

"…This isn't important enough to have Lord Ainz come personally. We

can leave her mind as is."

Solution made a deep bow, silently opened the door, and went inside.

Watching her go, Sebas slowly leaned back against the wall.

What should I do about her?

The best would probably be to help the woman recover to some extent and

then, while the ruffian was still on the run and leading his friends on a chase,

release her in a location of her choosing. Somewhere away from the royal

capital, at least, would be best. Throwing her out into the city would be

dangerous and cruel. That wouldn't be aiding her at all.

But is that really the right thing to do as the butler of the Great Tomb of

Nazarick, Sebas Tian?

He exhaled deeply. How much easier would everything be if he could

expel the other things built up inside him like that? But nothing changed. His

thoughts were in turmoil, a white noise invading his consciousness.

"This is foolishness. Why would I…for a human…?"

He quit seeking an answer that wouldn't come and decided to start with

something easy. It was only to buy time, but it was the best plan he could

come up with for now.

Solution lengthened her slender digits into tubelike shapes a fraction of an

inch wide. By nature, Solution was an amorphous slime, so she could alter

her appearance quite radically. Changing the contour of her fingertips was a

piece of cake.

With a glance at the door, she keenly observed the lack of Sebas's

presence outside and quietly approached the woman lying on the bed.

"I have permission from Master Sebas, so I'll promptly solve all this

trouble. I'm sure you're fine with that as well. You probably don't even know

what's going on."

Solution took the hand she hadn't transformed and reached inside her

body to take out the scrolls she'd been keeping there.

These scrolls weren't the only things she was secretly carrying. She

contained not only consumable magic items but also, of course, weapons and

armor. She had enough room to swallow up several humans, so there was

nothing surprising about that.

Solution gazed at the unconscious woman.

She wasn't the least bit interested in the woman's features. Solution had a

single thought: She doesn't look very tasty. That was all.

With this husk of a body, the woman probably wouldn't even struggle if

she was melting in Solution's acid. Where was the fun in that?

"If I could have her as a toy after I finished healing her, I would

understand Master Sebas's behavior, but…"

She knew her boss's personality. He would never approve of that. Unless

they were attacked on the road or something similar, he would never allow

her to prey on humans.

"If he's acting on the Supreme One's instructions and was ordered to save

her, I suppose I have to accept it, but…is she really worth expending the

Supreme One's precious assets? This human?" Solution shook her head to

clear her mind. "…Should I just eat her before Master Sebas returns?"

Solution broke a seal and unrolled a scroll. The magic it contained was

Heal, an elite tier-six recovery spell that restored a great deal of vitality and

cured almost all negative status effects, including sickness.

Usually only those with the class that would allow them to cast the spell

normally could use the corresponding scrolls. So to use faith caster spell

scrolls, one would need to attain a priest-type class. More specifically, the

spell had to be on the list of available spells that the class could learn.

However, some thief-type classes provided the ability to sidestep this

requirement and "trick" scrolls.

As an assassin, Solution had a number of thief-type classes that allowed

her to use the Heal scroll.

"First, I'll make sure she's comatose. Then…" Solution prepared a

compound combining a strong sleep-inducing anesthetic with a muscle

relaxant and moved over to where the woman lay.

26 Mid-Fire Moon (August) 7:37 PM

Sebas came home with food at almost the exact moment Solution exited

the room. Solution held a steaming bucket in each hand, both containing

towels. The hot water had turned black, and the towels were dirty, showing

what an unkempt state the woman had been in.

"Thank you, Solution. It looks like the treatment…went all right?"

"Yes. We finished with no problems. She didn't seem to have any other

clothes, so I dressed her in something that was lying around. I hope that's all

right with you?"

"Of course. That's fine."

"Very well… The anesthesia should have already worn off… If there's

nothing else you need me to do, I shall retire."

"Good work."

Solution bowed and walked past Sebas.

After watching her go, Sebas knocked on the door.

There was no answer, but he could sense someone moving around inside

and quietly pushed open the door.

Sitting up on the bed was a girl who looked extremely dazed, perhaps

because she had recently woken up.

He practically mistook her for someone else.

Her dirty, disheveled blond hair was now clean and glossy. Her hollow

cheeks had filled out with unbelievable speed in such a short time. Her dry,

chapped lips now also glowed a healthy pink.

To appraise her overall looks, the word charming fit her better than

beautiful.

It was possible to get some idea of her age. She was probably in her late

teens, but her hellish life weighed heavier than her years on her face.

Solution had dressed her in a white negligee, but it was a plain one with as

little of the usual frills and lace as possible.

"I think you're fully healed, but how do you feel?"

There was no answer. Her vacant eyes didn't contain the will to look up at

Sebas. But he continued speaking without worrying about that. No, he hadn't

been expecting much at first. He knew her empty expression indicated she

wasn't mentally present.

"Are you hungry? I brought you some food."

He'd bought an entire meal from a restaurant, including the dishes.

The porridge in the bowl had been made with a light-colored broth. The

sesame oil added for flavor gave it an appetizing scent.

Reacting to the smell, the girl's face twitched slightly.

"Then here you go."

So she's not completely locked away in her own world, thought Sebas as

he held the bowl with a wooden spoon in it out to her.

The woman didn't move, but Sebas didn't press her, either.

After long enough to annoy any third party present, she slowly moved her

arm. She was frightened of pain, so it was a stiff motion. Although her

physical wounds had been completely healed, vivid memories of suffering

still remained.

She grasped the wooden spoon and scooped shallowly into the porridge.

Then she brought it to her mouth and put it in.

The porridge, made with ten parts water, was runny to the point where it

wasn't even necessary to chew. Sebas had requested that the fourteen

ingredients be cut up extremely small.

Her throat rose and fell, and the porridge traveled to her stomach.

Her eyes shifted a bit. It was a truly slight movement, but it was the

change from an elaborate doll to a human. Her other hand, shaking, took the

bowl from Sebas.

Sebas kept his hands against hers and moved the bowl to where he

thought she wanted to put it.

She plunged the wooden spoon into the bowl and wolfed down the

porridge without stopping.

Her eating was incredibly rushed. If the food hadn't been cooled to an

appropriate temperature, she would have certainly passed out from the burns.

She paid no attention to the liquid dribbling out of her mouth onto the front of

her negligee. "Drinking" was the best description for how she attacked her

meal.

After finishing at a speed incomparable with her previous movements, she

sighed, still holding the bowl.

Now that she had become a person, her eyelids grew heavy and began to

close.

The effects of her full stomach, fresh and comfortable clothing, and her

own clean body combined to relax her mind, and a wave of sleepiness

overcame her.

But the moment her eyelids lowered into straight lines, they popped back

open and she cringed in fear.

Was she scared to close her eyes? Or fearful her current situation was an

illusion that would disappear? Or was there some other reason? Watching

from beside her, Sebas didn't know.

It was possible she didn't know herself.

So Sebas spoke to her gently to calm her down. "Your body must want

rest. It would probably be good for you to take it easy and get some sleep.

You're not in danger here—I guarantee it. When you open your eyes, you'll

still be in this bed."

For the first time, her eyes moved to Sebas's face.

Her blue eyes didn't contain much light or energy; however, they were no

longer those of a corpse but of a living thing.

She opened her mouth slightly—and closed it. Then she opened it again—

and closed it once more. She repeated this several times. Sebas kindly

watched. He certainly didn't hurry her up. He just gazed at her silently.

"Th…" Eventually her lips parted and a tiny voice squeaked out. The next

words came bit by bit. "Th…than…k…you…"

The first words out of her mouth were not to confirm her situation but to

express her gratitude. Feeling like he had grasped a hint of her personality,

Sebas did not wear his usual fake smile but a genuine one.

"Don't worry about it. Since I found you, I'll do everything in my power

to guarantee your safety."

The girl's eyes widened just a bit. Then her mouth trembled.

Her blue eyes became wet and then overflowed with tears. She opened her

mouth wide and started genuinely sobbing.

Soon the curses began to mix in with the weeping.

She cursed her fate, detested the ones who had served her that fate, and

resented the fact that help hadn't come sooner. The latter of these was also

aimed at Sebas. If only you had saved me sooner—that type of blame.

Upon receiving Sebas's kindness—at being treated like a person—

whatever was inside her enduring everything for all this time had broken. Or

perhaps it's more correct to say that because she regained a human heart, she

could no longer bear the memories of all the things she'd been through.

She clawed at her head, audibly ripping out her hair. Countless golden

threads curled around her slender fingers. The porridge bowl and the spoon

fell onto the bed.

Sebas watched her fit in silence.

Her bitter comments at Sebas were inaccurate and nothing more than

spreading blame. Some people might have taken this badly and gotten angry,

but Sebas's visage bore no trace of ire, and his lined face was, on the

contrary, compassionate.

Sebas leaned over and held her.

It was a hug like that of a father for his daughter, with no ulterior motives,

containing nothing but love.

For a moment she stiffened, but sensing the way he held her was different

from the men who had devoured her up until now, her frozen body relaxed

slightly.

"You're okay now." Chanting those words over and over like a spell, he

gently patted her back. It was like he was comforting a crying child.

She sobbed for a moment—then, as if Sebas's words had sunk in, she

buried her face in his chest and cried some more. But these tears were a little

different from before.

Time passed, and when Sebas's chest was completely soaked, the young

woman finally stopped crying. She slowly moved away from him and

lowered her head to hide her red face.

"Ah…s…rry."

"Please don't worry about it. It's an honor for a man to lend his chest to a

woman."

Sebas took a fresh, clean handkerchief out of his breast pocket and offered

it to her. "Please use this."

"Bu…t…I can't…some…thing this…beautiful…"

Sebas placed a hand on the timidly hesitating girl's chin and brought her

face up. While she was still frozen, wondering what had happened, he gently

wiped her eyes and brushed the tear streaks from her cheeks.

Oh yeah, Solution was saying she recently had a long Message

conversation with Shalltear… Apparently, she was bragging she had her

tears wiped…? Under what circumstances did our master attend to her

crying? Puzzled as he was, since he couldn't even imagine Shalltear weeping,

his hands didn't stop. Before long, he had finished wiping the young

woman's face.

"Ah…"

"Okay, here you go." He pressed the slightly damp handkerchief into her

hand. "An unused handkerchief is a pitiful thing, especially one that never

gets a chance to brush away tears." He smiled at her and moved away. "Now

then, have a good rest. We'll talk about what happens next when you wake

up."

Magic was a versatile thing. Solution's treatment had helped the woman's

body make a full recovery, and her mental exhaustion was also completely

gone. She would probably even be able to function normally right away. But

mere hours earlier, she had been in hell. He feared a lengthy discussion

would cause her mental wounds to reopen.

Actually, she was not yet psychologically stable. Her earlier outburst was

evidence enough. Magic could soothe a mind for a limited time, but it

couldn't treat the root issues. It might have been able to heal her physical

injuries, but it couldn't heal her gaping invisible wounds.

As far as Sebas knew, the only ones who could fully heal her mental

wounds were his master and—maybe—Pestonia.

Sebas tried to get her to rest, but she spoke, bewildered. "Wh…next?"

He wasn't sure if it would be okay to continue the conversation, but she

seemed to be in a talking mood, so he went on with a close eye to her

condition.

"You probably don't feel safe staying in the royal capital. Is there anyone

you can rely on?"

She looked down.

"I see…" Of course, he swallowed the comment So there isn't anyone…

Okay, that's a problem, thought Sebas. But surely there was no need for

them to take immediate action. It was nothing more than a hopeful

observation, but he wanted to believe they didn't need to rush, at least until

she regained her strength.

"Okay, then. May I have your name?"

"Oh…I'm…Tsu…Tsuare."

"Tsuare? Oh, that's right, I haven't told you my name yet, either. My

name is Sebas Tian. Please call me Sebas. I am the owner of this mansion,

and I serve Lady Solution."

That was the story.

Solution was constantly wearing not her maid uniform but a white dress,

in case a sudden visitor should call. But while Tsuare was around, Sebas

would have to advise Solution to act more like the mistress of the house to

keep up appearances.

"La…Solu…tion."

"Yes, Lady Solution Epsilon. Although I don't think you'll see her very

often."

"…?"

"She's rather ill-tempered." Sebas closed his mouth as if he'd said all

there was to say about her. Then after a short silence, he spoke again. "Okay,

please rest well for today. We'll discuss your future tomorrow."

"O…kay."

After making sure she had lain down, Sebas retrieved the empty porridge

bowl and exited the room.

As expected, right when he opened the door, Solution was standing there.

She had probably been eavesdropping, but he didn't reprove her. Solution

showed no sign of expecting a scolding, either—hence her standing there in

plain sight with no attempt to conceal her presence. With her assassin classes,

if she had wanted to hide, she should have been able to do so more skillfully.

"What is it?"

"…Master Sebas. What have you decided to do with her?"

Sebas was conscious of the door behind him. It was a sturdy barrier, but it

wasn't completely soundproof. If they talked here, she would be able to

partially hear them.

Sebas set off walking, and Solution silently followed him.

They stopped when he felt sure the sound wouldn't reach Tsuare's ears.

"You mean Tsuare, right…? I'm thinking we'll decide what to do

tomorrow."

"You know her name…?" She made no further comment on the subject

but, pulling herself together, said, "I apologize for being presumptuous, but I

believe there is a good chance that human will be a hindrance. We should

dispose of her as soon as possible."

What does she mean by "dispose"?

Hearing her brutal choice of words, Sebas couldn't help but suppose that

this was the most correct way for those who belong to Nazarick to think

about those outsiders. The way Sebas treated Tsuare was truly unusual.

"You're right. We need to immediately deal with anything that prevents

us from following Lord Ainz's orders."

Solution looked mildly puzzled. Her expression said, If you understand

that, why are you…?

"She might be of use to us. I picked her up, so I shouldn't discard her so

easily, but try to think of a way to use her to our advantage."

"…Master Sebas. I don't know where or for what purpose you picked her

up, but those types of injuries indicate a certain kind of environment. The

people who did those things to her probably won't be pleased she's alive."

"That's no problem."

"…You mean you already disposed of them?"

"No. But if a problem does arise, I'll deal with it in one way or another.

So I'd like you to just keep an eye on her. Okay, Solution?"

"…Understood."

Solution swallowed the slight irritation welling up in her as she watched

Sebas leave.

Even if she was extremely dissatisfied by his answers, he was her direct

superior, so she couldn't say anything. And if no issues came up, giving her

tacit approval was probably fine.

Still…

"Using Nazarick's assets on the likes of humans is…"

The riches of Nazarick all belonged to Ainz Ooal Gown and the other

Supreme Beings. Would they be forgiven for using them without permission?

No matter how much she mulled it over, she couldn't reach a satisfactory

answer.

3 Late Fire Moon (September) 9:48 AM

Sebas opened the door to the house. Today he'd gone again to the

Adventurers Guild first thing in the morning and recorded notes on the

postings before the adventurers started taking the jobs.

He wrote down and sent to Nazarick all the information he gathered in the

capital, even tidbits no bigger than local rumors. Analyzing the data was

extremely difficult so he left that up to the clever ones at the Tomb.

He went through the door and entered the building. A few days ago,

Solution would have met him there. But—

"Wel…come…ba…ck."

—now that role belonged to the quietly mumbling woman dressed in a

maid uniform with a floor-length skirt.

The day after he'd found Tsuare, they'd discussed things and decided she

would work inside the mansion.

He would have been fine letting her stay as a guest, but Tsuare wouldn't

accept that.

She didn't want to be treated like a guest on top of having been saved. She

didn't imagine it would be a proper thank-you, but she at least wanted to do

some work.

Sebas figured that anxiety probably lay behind that desire.

In other words, aware of her unstable position as a seed of trouble for this

household, she decided to make what efforts she could to keep from being

abandoned.

Of course, Sebas had been telling her he wouldn't forsake her. If he was

going to toss out a person with absolutely no place to go, he wouldn't have

bothered picking her up in the first place. But it was true that his powers of

persuasion weren't enough to soothe the wounds in her mind.

"I'm home, Tsuare. Is your work proceeding smoothly?"

She bobbed her head. Unlike when he'd met her, her hair was now tidily

trimmed, and a white headpiece placed on top dipped with the movement.

"There…no problems."

"No? That's good."

Her mood was decidedly dark, and her expression almost never changed,

but by living a human life, it seemed like her voice had gotten louder—

perhaps because the things tormenting her had lessened a little.

Her remaining uneasiness is because of… Sebas started walking, and

Tsuare accompanied him at his side.

Usually, for a maid, walking alongside the butler—her superior—would

be improper. But Tsuare had never trained as a maid, so she didn't know the

etiquette, and Sebas had no mind to drum the rules into her head.

"What's for dinner today?"

"Stew…wi…pota…oes."

"I see. That's something to look forward to; your cooking is delicious."

Receiving a smile along with the compliment, Tsuare blushed, and she

looked down and squeezed her maid's apron with both hands.

"Th-that's no…true."

"No, no, it is. I can't cook at all, so it really helps me out. Do you have all

the ingredients you need? If you're running low on anything or there's

anything you want me to go buy, please tell me."

"Okay. I…check…later…ask…ou."

Inside the mansion and in front of Sebas, Tsuare could function normally,

but she still rejected the outside world. Since they couldn't have her do

anything outside, procuring ingredients was Sebas's job.

Tsuare's culinary creations were nothing extravagant. They were humble

home cooking.

Because of that, none of the ingredients were expensive, and Sebas could

find everything she needed at the market. By familiarizing himself with

various foods at the market, Sebas was able to gather information about this

world's diet, so he considered it killing two birds with one stone.

Suddenly he had an idea.

"…Shall we go shopping together later?"

A shocked expression appeared on Tsuare's face. Frightened, she shook

her head, instantly paled, and broke out in a nervous sweat.

"No, th…you."

Sebas didn't let his thoughts show. So she still can't…

Since she had started working, she'd never made an attempt to do

anything that involved leaving the house.

She could keep her fear under control because she saw this building's

walls as absolute protection. In other words, she could function because she'd

drawn a line between the outside world—the world that hurt her—and this

dissimilar place.

But she would never be able to go outside like that. And Sebas couldn't

shelter her forever.

Given her mental state, Sebas knew that it would be cruel to order her out

after only a few days. It would be safer to take some time and acclimate her

slowly, but that was assuming they had time.

Sebas had no intention of settling down or spending the rest of his life

here. He was just a foreigner who had snuck in on an intelligence-gathering

mission. If the order to pull out came from his master…

To prepare for that time, he felt he should give her as many opportunities

as possible. Sebas stopped walking and faced Tsuare head-on. Blushing, she

looked down, but he took her cheeks between his hands and brought her head

up.

"Tsuare, I understand your fear. But please trust me. I'll protect you. I'll

thwart whatever danger approaches and keep you perfectly safe."

"…"

"Tsuare. Try to take this step. If you're scared, you can close your eyes."

"…"

He squeezed her hand as she hesitated. Then he said something he felt

was unfair. "You don't believe me, Tsuare?"

A veil of silence fell over the hallway, and time passed slowly. With

slightly damp eyes, Tsuare parted her lips, to which the color had returned.

Her pearly front teeth peeked out.

"N…o fair…Mas…Sebas. If…say that…then I can't…not…"

"Don't worry. I may not look it, but I'm strong enough… Hmm, yes.

There are only forty-one people stronger than me… Well, perhaps a few

more."

"Is…that…a lot?" Tsuare smiled, figuring that he'd said such a random

number as a joke to put her at ease.

Sebas simply smiled and didn't offer any response.

He set off walking again. He knew Tsuare, next to him, was glancing at

his profile now and then, but he didn't say anything.

He knew that she had some complicated feelings for him that were not

quite a faint crush. He supposed that was something like a conditioned

response after being rescued from hell, a dependency on a reliable figure.

Also, Sebas was old, so it was even possible that she was confounding

familial affection for the love between a man and a woman.

Even if she really was in love with him, Sebas had no intention of

returning her feelings. Not when he was hiding so much and their positions

were so imbalanced.

"Okay, I have a few things to talk to the young lady about, and then I'll

come and fetch you."

"Lady…Solut…ion?" Her face grew a little dark.

Sebas knew why, but he didn't say anything.

Solution had never interacted with Tsuare, and when they did happen to

meet, she would just cast a glance at her and withdraw without a word. That

level of disregard would make anyone uneasy, and given Tsuare's position,

she must have been quite frightened.

"It's all right. She's like that with everybody. She's not singling you

out… Between you and me, she has a pretty difficult personality…" His

joking tone and smile lightened Tsuare's mood a little. "Whenever she sees a

cute girl, she sulks."

"Bu…I'm…not… She's…so…" Flustered, she waved off his

compliment.

Tsuare certainly had a nice face, but she couldn't compete with Solution.

Still, beauty was always at least somewhat in the eye of the beholder.

"I prefer you to Solution."

"Wh… How?"

He watched her, his heart warm, as she blushed and looked down, but

then furrowed his brow at a sudden change in her expression.

"But…I'm…dirty…"

Her face darkened dramatically, and Sebas sighed in his mind. Then he

spoke, facing straight ahead. "Jewels are like that. Clean ones with no

scratches are worth more and called beautiful."

Hearing that, Tsuare's face grew even gloomier.

"But humans aren't jewels."

He sensed her head raise suddenly.

"You said you're dirty, but what makes humans clean? For jewels, there

are standards of appraisal. But what are the standards to decide a human's

purity or beauty? The average? The ordinary? Then does that mean the

opinions of the nonconforming minority don't matter?" Sebas took a breath

and continued. "Just like aesthetics vary from person to person, if we say

human beauty lies beyond appearance, then I believe it resides not in

someone's past but within them. It's not as if I know your entire history, but

judging from what I've seen of you these past few days together, you're not

the least bit dirty in my opinion."

Sebas closed his mouth, and suddenly the only sound in the world was

their footsteps echoing in the hall. Then Tsuare spoke, as if she'd made up

her mind.

"If you…think…so…then…hold m—"

Sebas embraced her before she could finish. "You're clean and beautiful,"

he said tenderly, and she didn't make a sound as the tears spilled from her

eyes. He patted her back a few times to soothe her and then slowly withdrew

his hands.

"Tsuare, I'm sorry, but the young lady is calling."

"I—I understand…"

Sebas parted with Tsuare, who curtsied a bit sadly with red eyes, and

knocked on the door. He didn't hear an answer but opened it. As he slowly

closed it, he smiled back at her as she watched him intently.

Partly because they were renting the house, but there was barely any

furniture despite the many rooms. In this room, however, there was enough

furniture not to embarrass them if a guest visited. But the more one examined

them, the easier it was to tell that none of the pieces had a history. The room

was a facade.

"I've returned, Lady Solution."

"…Thank you, Sebas."

The fake lady of the house, Solution, retaining her bored expression, was

seated on a sofa in the middle of the room. In truth, the expression was just

an act. Since Tsuare, an outsider, was in the building, she was wearing the

foolish-looking mask of a conceited rich girl.

Solution's eyes moved away from Sebas to the door. "…She's gone now."

"It appears so."

They observed each other's expressions, and Solution spoke first.

"When are you throwing her out?"

In response to the question she asked every time they met, Sebas gave his

usual answer. "When the time comes."

Normally the conversation would end there. Solution would heave a

conspicuous sigh, and it would be over. But today she didn't seem to want to

end it there. "…May I ask that you clarify when this 'time' is that you're

planning for? There's no guarantee that sheltering that human won't make

trouble for us. Doesn't that count as going against Lord Ainz's will?"

"There aren't any problems right now. I don't believe fearing and

panicking over the type of problems a mere human could cause is a reaction

befitting a servant of Lord Ainz."

Silence fell between them and Sebas exhaled lightly.

This is extremely awkward.

There was no emotion in Solution's expression, but he could tell she was

irritated with him. This mansion was their temporary base, but Solution

thought of it as a branch of the Great Tomb of Nazarick, and the fact that they

had a human there without their lord's consent was intolerable to her.

She hadn't harmed Tsuare yet because Sebas was firmly restraining her,

but eventually he wouldn't be able to hold her back.

I don't have much time. Sebas felt it keenly.

"…Master Sebas, if she interferes with Lord Ainz's orders—"

"—I'll dispose of her," Sebas declared, not letting her say any more.

Solution said nothing, gazed at Sebas with unreadable emotions, and

bowed her head. "Then I have nothing else to say. Master Sebas, please don't

forget what you have just told me."

"I certainly won't, Solution."

"Still…" The intense emotion in her whispered voice was powerful

enough to stop Sebas in his tracks. "…Still, Master Sebas, don't you think we

should report to Lord Ainz? About Tsuare?"

Sebas was silent for several seconds and then responded. "It shouldn't be

a problem. I would feel bad taking up his time to discuss a human."

"…I'm fairly certain you're contacting Entoma via Message at a

scheduled time every day. Couldn't you report it then in just a few words? …

Are you hiding it on purpose?"

"No, of course not. I would never do something like—"

"Then…you're not acting out of self-interest, right?"

A nervous thrill ran through the atmosphere.

Sebas sensed Solution bracing herself slightly and realized how dangerous

his position was.

Everyone in Nazarick was required to devote themselves entirely to Ainz

Ooal Gown, to the Supreme Beings. From the guardians on down, it was

probably safe to say everyone thought that way. Even the assistant butler

constantly scheming to take over the Great Tomb of Nazarick, Éclair, had

loyalty and respect for the Forty-One Supreme Beings.

Of course, Sebas also belonged to Nazarick.

Still, he didn't think that was any reason to desert someone in a miserable

situation based only on what-ifs. He understood, though, that most members

of Nazarick would not share that view.

No, he had thought he understood. Solution's actions a moment ago

showed him just how naive his understanding had been.

Solution was serious. She was ready to take on the butler—Sebas, who

had some of the highest combat ability of any of the members of Nazarick's

administration—depending on his answer. He had no idea she would be

willing to go that far to eliminate the problem.

He smiled.

When she saw that, some doubt appeared in her eyes.

"…Of course not. I have no self-interest in not reporting to Ainz."

"Then could you tell me why you're keeping her?"

"I have a very high opinion of her cooking skills."

"C…cooking?" It was like a question mark had appeared over her head.

"Yes. And don't you imagine people might think we're strange, living in

this huge mansion, just the two of us?"

"…Maybe."

Solution could sincerely agree there. With such a large house and

apparent wealth, the lack of servants would seem strange.

"I think it's only right that we maintain a minimum number of people.

Wouldn't it be trouble if someone should visit and we couldn't serve even a

single dish?"

"…So you're using the human as part of our disguise?"

"That's right."

"But is that one really so useful…?"

"Tsuare feels indebted to me, so even if she senses something is off, she

wouldn't say anything to an outsider. Am I wrong?"

Solution thought for a little while and then said, "No, that makes sense."

"So that's why. We shouldn't need Lord Ainz's permission for something

related to our disguise. On the contrary, I think he'd get angry and tell us to

think for ourselves," Sebas explained to the silent Solution. "Are you

convinced?"

"…Yes."

"Then for now, let's leave it at—" He cut off abruptly at the sound of a

hard object colliding with another.

It was very quiet—someone without Sebas's ears probably would have

missed it. Someone was undoubtedly causing the arrhythmic noise.

Sebas opened the door and focused his attention down the hallway.

When they realized it was coming from the knocker on the front door,

they both froze. No one had knocked on this house's door since they'd

arrived in the capital. When they did business, they always went out and

never invited anyone to call on them at their residence. It was an extreme

measure to not rouse any suspicion for living in such a big house alone.

But today, they had a visitor. That alone was enough to signal trouble.

Sebas left Solution behind, went into the entryway, and lifted the cover of

the peephole. Through the hole, he saw a stout man flanked by kingdom

soldiers.

The visitor was clean and wore well-tailored clothes with a heavy-looking

crest glinting copper on his chest. He had a ruddy, fleshy face with an oily

sheen, perhaps due to his diet.

There was also a man who bore a very different appearance.

His skin was so pale it was as if sunlight had never graced it. His sharp

gaze combined with his sunken cheeks to suggest a bird of prey—the type

that scavenged meat from corpses. His black clothes fit loosely. There was no

doubt he was concealing a weapon.

The malice and bloody stench rolling off him triggered Sebas's sixth

sense.

It was such a disparate group that he couldn't figure out who they might

be or what their purpose was.

"…Who is it?"

"Patrol Chief Staffan Heivish." The fat man in front stated his name in an

unexpectedly high-pitched voice.

The patrol chief was an official whose job was to keep the peace in the

capital. The position could also be understood as the boss of the patrolling

guards, and his work covered a broad span of activities. That was why Sebas

wasn't sure why he had come.

Staffan continued, ignoring Sebas. "As you know, we have a law in the

kingdom that prohibits slave trafficking… It was Princess Renner who

spearheaded the initiative to plan and adopt it. In any case, we caught wind

that someone in this mansion might be violating that law, so we're here to

ascertain the truth of the matter." Then he asked if they might come inside.

A drop of uncomfortable sweat rolled down Sebas's back, and he

hesitated.

He could think of plenty of excuses to refuse, but he worried that turning

Staffan away might lead to bigger problems later.

He had no proof Staffan was really an official. He wore the crest of a

kingdom official, but that wasn't enough to prove his authenticity. There was

a very slight chance—although it'd be a major crime—that it was counterfeit.

Still, what was the issue with letting a few humans into the mansion? If

they became violent, Sebas would be able to handle that, no problem.

Actually, it would be better for Sebas if the man was faking.

How did Staffan interpret the silence of Sebas's contemplation? He spoke

again. "First, I'm sorry to trouble you, but could we meet with the master of

the house? Of course, if he's out that can't be helped, but we came to

investigate, so we won't be very happy if we go back empty-handed."

Staffan's smile contained no trace of apology. Behind it lay a subtle intent to

abuse his authority, almost like blackmail.

"Before that, may I ask who the man behind you is?"

"Hmm? His name is Succuronte. He's a representative of the

establishment that brought this matter to our attention."

"I'm Succuronte. How do you do?"

Seeing Succuronte's faint smile, Sebas had a hunch he'd been defeated.

The expression was the sneer of a brutal hunter toward his trapped prey.

He must have laid all the groundwork before coming here. In that case, there

was a good chance Staffan was an actual official. And they'd probably

already decided how they would respond if he refused. In that case, maybe it

was better to see what they were up to.

"…Understood. I will go inform the lady. Please wait here for a moment."

"Yes, we'll wait, we'll wait."

"But I hope you'll make it quick. We haven't got all day."

Succuronte snorted derisively and Staffan shrugged.

"Understood. Then if you'll excuse me." Sebas closed the peephole cover

and turned back to Solution's room. But before that, he would need to tell

Tsuare to hide in the back.

Staffan and Succuronte left the soldiers outside the door and entered the

room they'd been led to. When they laid eyes on Solution, they were amazed.

They clearly hadn't expected to meet such a beautiful woman. Staffan's

expression gradually slackened, and his eyes flitted between her face and her

chest. There was something like lust in his eyes as he swallowed a few times.

Succuronte's expression, on the other hand, tensed.

Which one should I be wary of? The answer to that question was selfevident. Sebas offered them a seat on the sofa across from Solution.

Solution, Staffan, and Succuronte introduced themselves.

"Now then, what seems to be the trouble?"

Staffan cleared his throat rather deliberately and replied to Solution's

question. "We received a report from a certain establishment that someone

had abducted one of their employees. We heard that person illegally supplied

some money to a different employee of theirs in exchange. Slave trafficking

is prohibited by law… That sounds like a violation, don't you think?"

Staffan's excitement gradually grew, and his tone became increasingly

firm, but Solution gave a bored reply. "Oh?"

The visiting pair blinked in surprise. Apparently, they didn't think she'd

respond with that attitude, since they were threatening her.

"I leave all bothersome things to Sebas. Sebas, take care of it."

"A-are you sure you're all right with that? You might end up a criminal."

"Oh my, how frightening. Then, Sebas, if it seems like I'm going to end

up a criminal, please come tell me." She bid them good day and stood up,

beaming. No one called after her as she left the room. That moment proved

just how powerful a beautiful woman's smile could be.

Perhaps Solution's beauty had shocked the soldiers—a couple of surprised

yelps reached their ears before the sound of the closing door.

"Well then, I will listen to what you have to say on behalf of the young

lady." Sebas smiled and sat down opposite the two men.

The smile seemed to discourage Staffan. To shore him up, Succuronte

spoke. "Hmm, yes, then we'll have you hear us out. As Mr. Heivish said at

the door, our…well, yes, an employee of ours has gone missing. And what do

you know? After interrogating one of our men, he admitted to taking money

and handing her over. I realized this would count as slave trafficking, which

is illegal in the kingdom. I didn't want to believe anyone working at my

establishment would do such a thing, but I was forced to charge him with the

crime."

"As you should. We cannot permit such injustice!" Staffan pounded the

table. "Succuronte here came forward with the slave-trafficking accusation

regardless of the impact it might have on his establishment's reputation. He's

earned the title of a model citizen!" Staffan sprayed a bit of spit as he

pontificated, and Succuronte bowed.

"Thank you, Mr. Heivish."

What is this farce? Sebas thought as he got his brain working. He was

sure the two before him were in collusion, which meant they had undoubtedly

done a good amount of preparation before coming to attack. His defeat

seemed imminent. So how can I get through this with the least harm caused?

Conversely, what constituted his victory conditions?

For Sebas, Nazarick's butler, it was to resolve the issue without letting the

disturbance snowball any further—protecting Tsuare was not included.

But…

"The claims of the man who said he received money could have been

perjurious. Where is he now?"

"He's been arrested on suspicion of slave trafficking and locked up. And

after listening to what he said and doing a detailed investigation—"

"We found that you, Mr. Sebas, were the one who purchased my

employee."

The man had been arrested and probably told them everything there was

to tell. And there was a good chance he was coerced to talk in a way that

worked to their advantage.

Sebas wasn't sure if he should pretend he didn't know what they were

talking about, lie, or give a proper counterargument.

How would it turn out if I said she wasn't here? How would it turn out if I

said she died?

He imagined countless plans, but the probability of them being tricked

was low, and they didn't seem like they were going to give up so easily. He

decided to ask something he needed to know first.

"But how did you conclude it was me? What's the proof?" That was what

Sebas didn't understand. As long as he hadn't left at the scene his name or

anything that hinted at his identity, there shouldn't have been any proof. So

how did they figure out they should come here? Whenever he went out, he'd

been on guard for anyone tailing him. He didn't think there was anyone in

this city who could follow him without his realizing.

"The scroll."

A light went on in the back of Sebas's mind.

The scroll I bought at the wizards' guild.

Yes, it was different from normal scrolls, more durably made. Anyone

familiar with their appearance would know he'd bought it at the guild. The

rest was possible to find out with a little legwork. Someone dressed like a

butler holding a scroll would stick out even more.

Still, that didn't prove Tsuare was there. He could insist that she was

someone else who just happened to resemble her.

But there would be trouble if the mansion was searched. Namely the issue

of having only three people, including Tsuare, living in such a large house.

That I'll just have to accept, Sebas resigned himself.

"…I did take the woman away. That is true. But at the time she was very

badly wounded, and her life was in danger, so I had no choice."

"So you admit that you used money to gain custody of her?"

"First, I'd like to speak with that man."

"Unfortunately, that won't be possible. We can't have you two

coordinating your stories."

"You can—"

—stand there and listen to us talk, Sebas started to say but closed his

mouth.

In the end, this was a setup. Even if he could get to the man, the chance he

could turn things to his advantage was low. It was a waste of time to pursue

that angle.

"…Isn't it unwise, as a country, to permit the type of work that would

give her such horrible wounds all over her body in the first—?"

"The work we do is quite strenuous. Injuries are part of the job. Take a

mining job for example—accidents happen. It's like that."

"…I don't think they were those sort of injuries, though…"

"Ha-ha-ha. Well, we're in the hospitality business, and there are all sorts

of customers. We're careful, but you know how it is. Anyhow, I understand

what you've said. Next time we'll—yes, we'll keep a little closer eye on

things."

"A little?"

"Well, you know. Otherwise, it'll start to cost us money. Et cetera." In

response to Sebas's question, the corners of Succuronte's lips curled upward

in a sneer.

Sebas smiled back.

"—Okay, that's enough." Staffan heaved a sigh—the sigh of a human

who was dealing with a fool. "My job is to ascertain whether slave trafficking

occurred. Checking on the treatment of employees is someone else's. I can

only say that it has no bearing on our current discussion."

"…Then could you direct me to the official who specializes in those

matters?"

"…Hmm. I'd really like to, but it's not so simple as that. Sorry, but no one

likes someone who sticks their nose in other people's work."

"…Then I'd like to wait until that person can investigate."

Staffan chuckled as if he'd been waiting for him to say that.

Succuronte sneered in a similar manner.

"…Yes, I'd really like to wait as well, but since we've already received

the complaint in writing from the establishment, we need to take you in, with

force if necessary, and investigate."

In other words, there was no time.

"As things stand, it's clear from the circumstantial evidence that you

committed the crime, but the establishment is willing to take a broad-minded

approach in settling this. Of course, some compensation will be required.

And it will cost a bit to destroy the document that accuses you of slave

trafficking."

"What kind of compensation, specifically?"

"Yes, about that. For starters, we'd like you to return our employee. And

we'd like you to pay us the money that would have been made if she hadn't

been missing."

"I see. How much is that?"

"In gold pieces…hmm. Eh, I'll make it cheap. A hundred. And an

additional three hundred as a solatium, for a total of four hundred."

"…That's quite a lot of money. What's the breakdown? How much per

day and in what categories?"

"W-wait a moment." Staffan cut into the conversation. "That's not all,

Succuronte!"

"Oh, that's right. Since we reported the damage, there is the fee to destroy

that document even if we settle the matter privately."

"That's right, Succuronte. It won't do to forget that." Staffan grinned.

"…Seriously?"

"Hmm?"

"Ah, nothing," Sebas murmured with a smile.

"Um, my apologies, Mr. Heivish." Succuronte bowed to Staffan and

continued. "One-third of the solatium is considered reasonable for destroying

the record, so that comes out to a hundred gold pieces. So the total is five

hundred."

"I paid some money when I took her. Will that be deducted?"

"Oh, that's rich. Listen, buddy, if you settle with them, that'll mean you

never purchased a slave. In other words, that money never existed—you

dropped it somewhere."

So you're telling me to pretend I dropped a hundred gold pieces? Well,

you probably have half of it in your pocket as we speak. "…Another issue is

that she's not fully healed yet. If you take her now, she might relapse. She

could also die, depending on how the treatment goes. I think it's safer to have

us take care of her."

A strange twinkle appeared in Succuronte's eye.

When he saw it, Sebas realized he'd made a mistake—now they knew he

cared about Tsuare.

"I see, I see. You may be right. If she dies, you'll have to reimburse us

with her worth, naturally, but until she's healed, how about lending us the

lady of the house?"

"Ohh! That makes sense. If you create a vacancy, you should fill it."

The lust was plain on Staffan's grinning face. He was probably imagining

Solution naked.

Sebas's smile disappeared, leaving him expressionless.

Succuronte probably wasn't being serious, but if he found an opening, he

would force himself in. Sebas could see that because he'd slipped and

revealed his attachment to Tsuare, there was a chance this would blow up

even worse.

"…Won't it be problematic if you get too greedy?"

"Don't be ridiculous!" Staffan got red in the face and shouted.

Like the squeal of a pig before being slaughtered, thought Sebas as he

silently gazed at the patrol chief.

"What do you mean, 'greedy'?! I'm doing this to uphold the law created

through the power of Princess Renner's esteemed will! You call that greed?!

How rude can you possibly be?!"

"Now, now, please calm down, Mr. Heivish."

The moment Succuronte chimed in, Staffan immediately quelled his

anger. His instantaneous serenity implied that it hadn't been a genuine

outburst but just part of the intimidation plan.

What a horrible actor, Sebas whispered in his head.

"But Succuronte…"

"Mr. Heivish, I think we've said everything we can say for now. I'd like

to come back the day after tomorrow to hear Sebas's decision. That's fine

with you, right, Mr. Sebas?"

"Yes."

With that, the conversation met its end, and Sebas escorted the men to the

entryway. He saw them off, and Succuronte, the last one to go, smiled at

Sebas with a parting shot. "Someone said, 'I owe that former concubine some

thanks. I never imagined someone slated for disposal would lay a golden

egg.'"

The door closed with a bang.

Sebas watched them go as if the door were see-through. There was no

particular emotion on his face at all. He had his usual calm expression. But

deep in his eyes was something vivid and intense.

Anger.

—No, the emotion couldn't be described with such a simple word as

anger.

Fury, rage—those terms were more appropriate.

The reason Succuronte had spoken the truth as he left was to inform Sebas

that all avenues of escape were blocked and that there was nothing to be done

—he was convinced he'd won.

"Solution. Why don't you come out?"

At Sebas's suggestion, she slunk out of the shadows and showed herself.

She'd been using an assassin-class skill to melt into the darkness.

"You were listening to our conversation, right?" His question was meant

only as confirmation.

Solution nodded, of course. "So what will you do now, Master Sebas?"

Sebas couldn't answer immediately.

In response to his silence, Solution directed a cold gaze his way. "…Shall

we turn over that human and be done with it?"

"I don't think that will resolve the issue."

"…And why is that?"

"If we show weakness, they'll come to suck the marrow from our bones.

That's the type of humans they are. I don't think handing over Tsuare will fix

this. The problem is how they're investigating us and how much they've

found out. We entered the capital as merchants, but if they investigate indepth, that story won't hold water—they'll be able to see through our

disguise."

"Then what will you do?"

"I don't know. I think I'd like to take a stroll outside and think about it."

Sebas pushed open the front door and began to walk.

Solution watched in silence as Sebas receded into the distance.

This is so stupid. If he hadn't picked up that human, none of this even

would have happened. Of course, it's too late now. What's important is what

to do going forward.

As someone working under Sebas, ignoring his orders and acting on her

own would be frowned upon, but it seemed worse for her to let things

continue the way they were going.

If our littlest sister would come out… There wouldn't be a problem if we

could just operate as the Pleïades…

She didn't know what to do.

She was having so much trouble figuring out what to do next that this was

probably the most confounded she'd ever been.

Eventually she made up her mind, raised her left hand, and opened it.

A scroll rose from her palm like it had bobbed to the surface of a lake.

She'd been keeping the scroll inside her body. Originally, it had been given

to her to use for communication in case of an impending crisis. At this point,

due to Demiurge's research, their prospects for low-tier scroll creation were

fine, but back when Solution was dispatched, they hadn't been, so this

Message scroll was designated for emergency use only. She judged that this

was a situation in which she should use it.

She unrolled the scroll and unleashed the spell it contained. The item

scattered to pieces that turned to ashes. Before they could fall to the ground,

they had completely disappeared.

As the spell took effect, Solution sensed herself connecting to the other

person with something that felt like string and spoke. "Lord Ainz, are you

there?"

"Solution…? What in the world is it? If you're contacting me, it must be

some sort of emergency?"

"Yes." She paused for just a moment. She hesitated due to her loyalty to

Sebas, and she wondered if she hadn't simply misunderstood. But her

faithfulness to Lord Ainz won over.

And although they should be acting in order to maximize the gains of the

Forty-One Supreme Beings, Sebas's current actions could be interpreted as

contravening that.

That was why she wanted to get their master's opinion. "It's possible that

Sebas is a traitor."

"What? …Agh!! …Er…how could that be? Ahem. Quit joking around,

Solution. I won't stand for such claims without proof… Do you have any?"

"Well, I'm not sure it can be called proof, but…"