We'd taken a break for lunch and were eating meager meals to rehydrate.
At times like this, if Monica were here, she could prepare a lavish lunch, but for now it was just hard bread and water. As Monica had told me to, I ate a small amount of the salty dried meat to replenish my salt.
I'd sat down on a nearby rock when I noticed May tearing into the hard dried meat beside me, eating with hearty abandon.
It wasn't exactly palatable preserved food, but May didn't seem to mind.
Our charges were resting in the shade of the trees. With Eva and Clara standing guard, Aria was resting too.
I shifted my gaze to the key figure — the saint candidate, Aura — and it seemed Gastone was trying to persuade her.
"Lady Aura, you can't run away forever. You need to place yourself under someone's protection."
Aura took a sip of water.
"And that someone would be Rolfis? I refuse. I know just how despised he is."
Selma looked troubled as well, but it didn't seem like she could push too hard. After all, it was because they had propped Aura up that she'd gotten dragged into all this.
(I didn't expect the saint candidate to resist that strongly.)
Then, as if she'd noticed me watching, Aura stuck out her tongue and went "bleh" at me.
May laughed.
"Ahahahaha, looks like you're unpopular, Lyle. But why can't the other saint do? If she's not motivated, you could always go with the one who is."
May's logic was sound enough, but there was a reason Selma wouldn't work.
After all, Selma had lost in popularity to the current saint. The gap wasn't supposed to be that large, but a loss was still a loss.
They'd prepared Aura as their rival candidate, but without any will of her own, everyone around her had sided with the current saint.
"Selma is... well, she's gotten too old to be a saint. Normally it's about ten years, but she's been at it for twenty. She worked hard. It's time to let her rest."
Upon hearing that, May looked over at Selma.
"From where I'm sitting, there's not much of a difference. If she can bear children, what's the problem? Come to think of it, why didn't you try to court her?"
I turned back to May, chewing on the dried meat in my hand.
"I... wasn't courting her. That was a misunderstanding."
Just then, the Fifth Generation's voice came from inside the Jewel. When May was nearby, the Fifth Generation tended to talk a lot.
"It was an unpleasant incident. But it's fine — I made them swear they'd never do it again."
Whether they were curious about our conversation or not, Clara and the others had been peeking out from behind Porter. And then Selma had suddenly started panicking about something.
I hadn't caught what was being said, but it was all transparent to Eva and May.
Eva was delighted that she could apparently sing now, while May kept saying I should have just courted her the way I was doing now.
"It's a hassle, isn't it? So why is a younger one better?"
I turned my gaze back to Aura and said.
"Apparently, the saint is a kind of object of worship. They revere the Last Goddess — the Seventh Goddess — but they still need a representative of the nation. Apparently, they wanted a young, beautiful woman as a figurehead."
The saint's role was that of a figurehead.
But at some point, power had accumulated, other nations had interfered, and Zayin had used other nations to create the current situation.
The Fifth Generation spoke up.
"For someone to stand at the front, Aura would be the better choice. When negotiating with Rolfis too, a new representative would be somewhat more manageable. There's a chance they'd let their guard down. That wouldn't happen with Selma."
As things stood, our plan was to side with Rolfis and take on Zayin. For that, we needed someone who could claim to be Zayin's legitimate successor.
(I need to go back and gather information. Depending on the situation, it doesn't have to be Rolfis.)
If it was better to have a third nation intervene, we'd go with that. If nothing worked... we'd have to force things a bit.
The Successive Heads had also said they didn't particularly recommend it, so I didn't put that plan into action.
The plan was to declare independence in a place where Zayin's supporters of Lady Aura were plentiful. It would drain Zayin's national strength while also allowing us to join hands with Rolfis, who opposed Zayin.
But when it came to my own goals, it wasn't exactly a welcome outcome.
I stood up and spoke to May, who had finished eating.
"We're heading out. We'll reach Baim by tomorrow."
As I said that, I was deep in thought.
(Should I think of a way to bring Lady Aura on board? Maybe I should ask the Third Generation.)
—Baim.
It was a large building.
Apparently, a merchant who had once been called wealthy had used it, but adventurers had found it too inconvenient to buy or rent.
Next to the mansion was a spacious warehouse, large enough to fit the Porters with room to spare. Monica was satisfied with a warehouse big enough to house several Porters.
"As long as it's here, we can make as much noise as we want without any problems. There's a fair bit of distance to the surrounding areas."
An impressive mansion, a broad courtyard, and a large warehouse.
There was a reason we'd been able to acquire such a property. It was extremely inconvenient.
It sat far from the center of Baim, and on top of that, there were rumors that the wealthy merchant still wandered the premises.
Sure enough, something had apparently happened, and Miranda and Shannon had gone down into the mansion's basement to deal with it.
Novem had started cleaning the mansion, while Monica and the others — who had picked up this practically condemned property at a bargain price —
"If you try to demolish it, you'll meet with misfortune... Ah, so that's why no one ever bought it. Accidents were always happening."
Monica didn't believe in ghosts or anything occult. But that had changed.
"Hmph, in a world where something as fantastical as magic exists, I'm not going to be surprised by some ghost. Still, my job is to have everything wrapped up before that Chicken gets back... I'd like to exorcise these spirits if I can."
Monica pulled out some items that seemed like they might do the trick, but upon seeing the so-called holy water being sold, it was just plain dirty water.
"Just regular filthy water. The rest are all nothing but cheap decorative trinkets. I went around and bought up some inexpensive goods, but none of this looks like it'd actually work."
Leaving them where they were, Monica walked through the warehouse, scanning the surroundings.
"…Is this some kind of hidden passage? It looks like the warehouse extends underground too, but there's something beneath the mansion itself. I'll have to dig this up."
Twin-tails bouncing, Monica set off in high spirits. Upon discovering the entrance to the underground, she forced it open with brute strength and descended the stairs.
"I couldn't be Chicken's escort, but it looks like I'll come back with souvenirs and a good story. If a ghost shows up, I'll have to tell them all about it tonight!"
Heading down into the dark underground, Monica hummed a cheerful tune——.
——Shannon was clinging to her older sister Miranda.
In one hand she held a lantern, illuminating the area around them.
"F-Fufufufa! I can see the flow of magic that even you can't! These are just traps some merchant set up ages ago, and I see r-right through them!"
Miranda, moving awkwardly, hurled the knife in her hand into the wall of the underground passage.
The mechanism partially triggered, and rusted spears jutted out from the walls and floor. They moved sluggishly, and some of the spears were broken.
"I suppose this is what happens when things are left unattended for so long. Now then, I wonder what's deeper in here."
Shannon was trembling, but she spoke in a defiant tone.
"I-It must be a rich man's treasure! He was wealthy, so he must have had something incredible!"
Miranda listened without any visible interest.
All she cared about was making the mansion usable. Besides, she doubted that setting her expectations too high would yield anything worthwhile.
(She'd heard plenty about the wealthy and the nouveau riche getting swindled into paying fortunes for worthless junk. If some fraudster had slapped a few booby traps on a fake and stored it here for safekeeping, it'd be nothing but a joke.)
A sound echoed from somewhere distant, and Shannon clung tighter to Miranda.
"Shannon, you're making it hard to walk. Besides, you haven't been any use at all this whole time."
"But it's scary! There's something moving around that doesn't feel like a person at all! And it feels like we're being watched — this place is definitely bad news! That's why I told you we should skip it, even if it was cheap!"
Shannon looked like she was about to burst into tears, so Miranda sighed and firmly took her hand.
As they set off, they discovered another trap.
Miranda threw a knife to trigger it, then confirmed it was broken by the strange noise it made.
"If something's left abandoned for decades, it stops working."
Miranda was curious about what kind of trap had been set, but given how long it had been left unattended, she judged that nothing still functional could remain.
With Shannon clinging to her, it was no issue—she simply kept walking.
"We need to check what's underground. It'll be a way to kill time until Lyle and the others come back."
As Miranda walked on, Shannon clung tight and followed, looking around warily the entire time, never letting go——
——Inside the mansion.
Novem was cleaning the study of the mansion's former owner.
Since it was already decided this would become Lyle's room, she was cleaning it with care.
She opened the window and picked up her tools, when suddenly the window slammed shut on its own, with no wind to speak of.
BANG!
Hearing the loud noise, Novem was unfazed and simply moved to open the window again. But this time, even though the lock wasn't engaged, she couldn't budge it.
It felt like something was pressing it shut from the other side.
"I'd like to finish cleaning the main rooms by today… would you mind not getting in my way?"
She turned from the window and looked toward the center of the room, where a fat man with purple skin stood.
On his fingers he wore several rings set with large gemstones, and around his neck hung a golden necklace.
Facing the former owner of the mansion—a man who no longer belonged to this world—Novem set down her tools and bowed.
"How do you do. My name is Novem… Novem of House Foxes. I'm the lover of Master Lyle, who purchased the mansion… no, that's not right. The engagement was broken off beforehand. And I'm not a retainer either. How should I put it? Well, perhaps Master Lyle's most faithful servant?"
When she offered a smile, the man in the black robe slowly rose into the air. In his hand he held a massive scythe.
Looking at the figure before her, she understood what manner of being it was.
Novem narrowed her eyes.
"I had believed all the unorthodox methods were erased, but it seems you scraped together whatever remained. Immortality is hardly something worth pursuing..."
When Novem waved her right hand, the heirloom staff of House Foxes was gripped within it.
Research had once been conducted into achieving immortality by fusing with Magic Stones, materials, and even the Monsters themselves.
All of it was supposed to have been kept hidden. Every record was supposed to have been disposed of, yet the wealthy man who had once resided in the mansion apparently seized upon those clues and conducted the experiments himself.
The former master of the mansion, no longer capable of speech, swung his massive scythe down at Novem.
Novem caught the scythe with her left hand. She gripped the blade, and no matter how much force the other poured into it, it did not budge even slightly.
"Those who have dabbled in unorthodox arts cannot be left as they are. At the very least, rest in peace—"
From the staff held in Novem's right hand, a scythe materialized. A great scythe gleaming silver flashed across the figure's abdomen.
The man with purple skin opened his blackened mouth and let out a scream. Then pale blue flames consumed him entirely, leaving only ash on the floor.
Novem watched the ash crumble away and returned the scythe to the staff.
"So there were still remnants."
With that, she put the staff away, tidied up her cleaning supplies, and set about surveying the mansion.
——Miranda discovered Monica at the end of the underground passage.
"What do you think you're doing?"
Shannon saw Monica holding a book in the dark room and, without even letting out a scream, stood frozen with her mouth hanging open.
Miranda snatched the lantern from Shannon's hand and illuminated the room.
Monica had been leafing through books and documents.
"Fascinating research, truly. It seems they repeated experiments here over and over. There are cells in the back—Monsters were apparently kept there. Well, this can't be made public, so it will need to be disposed of."
Miranda immediately picked up on it — the wealthy former resident had clearly been conducting some strange research. She narrowed her eyes and swept the light across the walls and bookshelves.
There were rows upon rows of books with titles she had never seen before, along with volumes written in languages she couldn't read. Dictionaries for deciphering them were there as well.
Several desks occupied the room, suggesting multiple people had worked or conducted research here simultaneously.
Setting the lantern down on a desk, Miranda turned toward the entrance. Footsteps were approaching from outside, but neither Monica nor Miranda showed any alarm.
They already knew who was coming.
The one who stepped into the room was Novem.
"So you've discovered it first. It seems the former owner of this place had rather unsavory interests. All the books and documents here will be disposed of."
Her tone was sharper than usual, and the look in her eyes brooked no argument. Miranda shrugged her shoulders and moved over to Shannon's side.
Monica set down the book she had been examining and looked around.
"This room could be put to use. Would it be all right if I handled the cleaning?"
Novem nodded.
"Suit yourself. However, everything left in this room will be disposed of. The furniture as well."
Miranda spoke up with an exasperated tone.
"There are some rather expensive-looking desks in here, though."
Novem stood silently, watching Miranda with an unusual expression. Miranda ran a hand through her hair, let out a sigh, and gave in.
"Whatever you like. Though I suppose using furniture from a room like this... Actually, maybe we should just dispose of everything from top to bottom."
Novem replied.
"I don't expect any problems with the manor itself. However, I must ask you to keep this matter a secret from Clara. She has a rather strong attachment to books."
Monica nodded. Miranda did the same.
Shannon — who was unconscious — received no one's attention.