Chapter 1275

“If—if you heard everything I talked about with the steward, then you already know! The steward may have said he didn’t know the exact location, but if that’s what Father wanted, then it can’t be helped, and it’s not exactly my fault—!”

“Talk outside.”

Yuder motioned with his eyes the moment Kiole frantically started making excuses upon seeing his face. That idiot clearly wasn’t thinking about the fact that he was still inside someone else’s shop.

‘I was blocking the sound from leaking out with wind, but that guy doesn’t even realize I was doing that. Seems like he’ll never develop any sense of caution even if he dies and comes back.’

Naturally, Yuder had heard the conversation between Kiole and the steward from start to finish. Kiole had been convinced the steward would know the location of the secret vault, but Yuder didn’t believe it from the beginning—so when the answer turned out to be “not exactly,” he wasn’t the least bit surprised.

If anything, what caught him off guard was how absurdly favorable the steward’s attitude was toward Kiole.

‘I knew he was getting mistaken for someone impressive all over the place, but...’

Seeing that misunderstanding reinforced in real time right before his eyes was truly something else. Yuder had to hold back a scoff by the end—it was just that ridiculous.

Still, the situation ended up working in their favor, so he had no complaints. As soon as they exited the store, and Kiole looked about ready to start making excuses again, Yuder spoke up first.

“Tonight.”

“...Huh?”

“We’re departing for Duke Diarca’s secret vault after sunset. I’ll come to your lodging, so be ready and waiting.”

“What?!”

Kiole jumped in shock.

“Wait. That soon?!”

“What’s soon about it? If the vault were here in the capital, we would’ve gone already. This is already late.”

Honestly, he would’ve preferred to leave immediately. He still needed to report to Kishiar, and it’d be easier to move under the cover of night, so he was only allowing a few hours’ grace.

“But even if it’s Mother’s hometown or whatever, we still don’t know where in it the vault is. Wouldn’t it be better to gather more information first—?”

“I already have a good idea, so don’t worry about it.”

Kiole, who’d been shrinking into himself, looked like he couldn’t believe his ears—then he shouted.

“...How the hell do you know that?!”

How, indeed. That was thanks to Kishiar, who’d shown an early interest and ordered an investigation, and the Northwind’s Blade, who executed that order without missing even the smallest details.

But Yuder didn’t bother explaining that truth.

“If you’d had even the slightest interest in your own mother, you’d have figured out where to start, too.”

Kiole flinched and shut his mouth as if struck. Judging by how little he knew about his mother compared to Yuder, he had a long way to go. Yuder could only hope the idiot would recall even a little more about Langretsi da Diarca before they left—but it didn’t inspire much confidence.

On the way back, Kiole hailed the carriage. He carefully studied the traffic before managing to flag one down, looking proud of himself. Yuder briefly considered whether he should mention that, unlike in the upper districts, any old carriage would’ve sufficed in the lower ones.

“I’m off, then.”

“Wait!”

As soon as they arrived, and Yuder turned to return to the cavalry corps, Kiole stopped him. Curious, Yuder turned to see an unusually hesitant expression.

“...I don’t know if I should call it a favor or a request, but... I want to ask you something.”

“What is it.”

Kiole hesitated, then clenched his eyes shut and spoke.

“...C-could I maybe... see the people I worked with at the labor camp again?”

Yuder almost reflexively said “What?” but bit it back and redirected the question.

“Why do you want to see them?”

“I realized I never properly said goodbye. It was all so sudden at the end. And even though they learned who I really was... it just... keeps bothering me.”

So, he wanted to at least say farewell?

The look in his eyes was genuine—surprisingly earnest, even. Of all the things Yuder imagined Kiole might ask, this wasn’t one of them. He really had grown attached to those prisoners.

Yuder stared long enough to make Kiole anxious, then suddenly spoke.

“A noble requesting to meet a commoner is a terrifying thing for them. Even if you say you want to see them, they might be afraid or flat-out refuse. Still want to go?”

“Uh... I didn’t think of that...”

Caught off guard, Kiole fidgeted, clearly flustered. Yuder watched him, curious how he’d respond, and Kiole finally mumbled in a small voice.

“Of course, if they say no, I won’t force it. I’d just... like to check from a distance that they’re okay. And there are a few things I want to give them.”

“What kind of things?”

“They hardly had anything to eat or drink! They work their bodies that hard and only get scraps. And if you try to use the local wells, the guards curse you out and block access. If you don’t carry your own water, you can’t even get a sip! So, I thought, maybe... some bread and canteens, a few clean towels for each person... That much should be fine, right?”

“...”

“It should be okay, right? I mean, there’s no law against giving that sort of thing to prisoners...”

Watching his confidence evaporate in just a second was so pitiful that Yuder couldn’t help but snort.

“Wha—?! You just...!”

“Fine. After we return from the vault and report to His Majesty, I’ll let you do as you wish.”

If Kiole had been harboring some vindictive scheme against the prisoners who’d seen his shame, or just spouting thoughtless nonsense, Yuder wouldn’t have agreed. But with that kind of answer? What was there to question.

“Really?!”

Kiole’s face lit up. He even forgot the shock of seeing Yuder smile like some phantom just moments ago.

This time, Yuder finally returned to the cavalry corps. He immediately found Kishiar and delivered a full report.

“—That’s how it stands. So I’ll need to take a short trip from tonight through tomorrow.”

“How exciting! I’ll come too.”

Kishiar responded cheerfully.

The unexpected reaction made Yuder pause a beat longer than usual.

“...Will you have time, sir?”

“Of course. If I don’t go on a trip like this, what’s the point of being the captain of the cavalry corps?”

Most people probably wouldn’t agree with that logic, but Yuder didn’t say anything.

“Actually, we’ve just about wrapped up the investigation into the ‘Golden Cuckoo.’ I was planning to confirm some things personally—and now I find out Duke Diarca’s vault is in the same area? Couldn’t ask for better.”

The “Golden Cuckoo” referred to the secret surrounding Kiole’s mother, Langretsi da Diarca. If Kishiar thought it was worth verifying himself, it had to be a truly extraordinary secret.

“In that case, let’s go together.”

Kiole might be startled, but oh well. His physical safety would be more thoroughly secured, and eventually, he’d realize that was for the best.

“Let’s bring Nathan along too. He was the first to investigate the Golden Cuckoo. He’ll be helpful if we need to contact anyone in the area.”

Nathan Zuckermann was a busy knight, but he never refused an order from his lord. When summoned and briefed, he responded with his usual composure.

“Understood. I’ll prepare right away.”

And so, that evening—

“...Wh-what?!”

Kiole looked like he might faint when he saw the two unfamiliar men in his room.

“Who—who are they?! You never said we’d be going with others!”

The two tall men standing behind Yuder, their faces obscured by hats and thick, shabby robes like wandering pilgrims, didn’t reply at first.

Before Yuder could say anything, one of them chuckled.

“Calling us ‘those people’? Now I’m offended.”

Though his face was hidden, his voice wasn’t disguised.

That voice.

Low, smooth, and enough to send chills down one’s spine—Kiole recognized it instantly. Unlike with Debran, when it had taken him a while to recall it despite multiple suspicions, this time he said the name reflexively.

“...Duke Pelta!”

“Correct. Though I prefer to be called the Captain of the Cavalry Corps these days. Please use that instead.”

Kishiar smiled serenely. Kiole turned, eyes trembling, to the man standing beside him.

“Then that person must be...!”

“My second-in-command. Known lately by the nickname ‘Northwind’s Blade.’ You’ve heard of it, I’m sure?”