When I woke up in the House Walt estate, I looked around my room.
My room, where I'd been kept under house arrest, had once been filled with books. Well, it was true that they had been there, but now there was nothing.
When I was expelled from the estate, it seemed all my belongings had been disposed of. The bed remained, but the bookshelves lining the walls were bare.
I reached for the Jewel hanging from my neck and gripped it tightly.
According to Baldoa, House Walt still had reserve forces. He said he wanted them to head toward me, to prevent them from being taken by Ceres or being attacked from behind.
Deep down, he probably just wanted to send me home. I traveled to the surrounding territories and vassal territories via Porter, using the Jewel's new ability — something similar to Father's Skills — to undo Ceres's charm one by one.
However, it wasn't exactly as though everyone was happy to be freed.
I felt ambivalent about it, too.
While I was thinking that, someone knocked on the door.
"Chicken, people have been arriving one after another from the surrounding territories."
I got up from bed and asked Monica — the one who called me Chicken — to report on the situation.
"From the surrounding territories, huh. How about the estate?"
Monica shrugged.
"There are many who are trying to take their own lives. We've also received reports that family members outside the estate have committed suicide. Suicide notes saying they're atoning for their sons' and daughters' misdeeds have been turning up."
Monica reported everything to me without holding back. But that was fine.
"Tell them once more that suicide will not be permitted. We're not considering any particular punishment. They were simply being manipulated by Ceres's abilities."
What they had done to me — when I thought about it, there were even those who wanted to take their own lives. That was what surprised me.
What was really unpleasant was that it didn't end with everyone being freed and things turning out fine.
Monica looked at me.
"I spoke with Miranda too, but wouldn't it be better to prepare punishments? That way, you can prevent them from taking their own lives out of guilt."
I listened to Monica's opinion.
"…What a hassle."
I had come back, but I couldn't feel at ease. The mansion that had once welcomed me so warmly had never returned to me, even after Ceres was freed.
Looking at reality like this, I realized there were many people who felt sorry toward me. But the feeling of happiness — that wasn't there anymore.
"Maybe I shouldn't have come back here."
At that, Monica looked at me and clapped her hands twice.
"So, what will you do about the people who have shown their faces here?"
I covered my face with my right hand.
"I can't exactly avoid meeting them. I'd also like to visit Baldoa's family home."
Thinking that it would be busy even after returning, I picked up my jacket, threw it on, and left the room.
——Shannon was taking a walk in the House Walt mansion.
It was a spacious mansion. On top of that, during the Fifth Generation's time there had been many children, and the annex had a wing prepared as children's quarters, which was later used for hosting guests.
As Shannon walked through the annex, she heard the words of Eliza, who was walking behind her.
"…It's more lavish than our own castle."
Shannon recalled what Miranda had told her.
"House Walt holds the largest territory in Banseim, so it's bigger than some minor countries — can't be helped, I suppose. Ah, here it is."
Shannon arrived at the room that was the destination of her walk.
It was a room within the annex that was not used as a guest room, and it was said to have been left behind by the previous head, the Seventh Generation.
Shannon, who had the key, opened the door, and inside, a gun was mounted on the wall.
They had been used by Mireia.
They were single-shot guns, the type where you loaded a bullet and fired. Moreover, a knife was attached to the barrel. There were quite a few of them prepared, but none of them appeared to have been maintained, and they were all rusted over.
Eliza looked at them.
"So many of the same gun. But none of them look usable."
Shannon searched among them for one in good condition. She searched, and then picked one up.
"Hmm, maybe I'll take this one home with me? It's more of a memento, and it was my great-grandmother's, after all."
Eliza looked at Shannon.
"Oh, so you were related by blood?"
Shannon held the heavy gun.
"My great-grandmother came from House Walt. Apparently, they had ties with House Cerclie all the way up to the previous generation or so."
Eliza seemed to understand, and nodded.
"Bring it home and get it repaired. I think having one around is perfectly fine."
Shannon said that, and then she and Eliza went around the room looking at everything. Dust had accumulated, making it clear that it hadn't been cleaned more than a handful of times per year.
She had asked some of the staff at the mansion, and it seemed that during Maisel's time, there had been consideration of converting the room into a guest room rather than preserving it. However, since there were already enough guest rooms, there was no urgency, and before anyone realized it, the room had simply become one that no one entered.
Shannon looked around the room.
"It's a lonely room, isn't it? Like it's been forgotten."
That was what she said――.
Porter's cargo bed.
There, I sat on a long bench, talking with Miranda, who was seated beside me. Novem was sitting far away, beyond earshot.
It was obvious to anyone that she was avoiding me. That said, it wasn't as though she refused to listen to what I had to say.
The distance between us had grown into something that no longer felt right — "awkward" didn't even begin to cover it.
"Laiel, are you listening?"
"Huh? Oh? ...Sorry, I wasn't."
When I apologized honestly, Miranda let out a sigh. She was sitting on the bench, legs crossed and re-crossed, hands clasped over her knee.
"Over there, I kept getting asked all sorts of things — like whether you already had a first wife picked out. And on top of that, people were going on about how the Walt family has some kind of ancestral creed or whatever. I'd heard about it before, but did you really follow that creed all along?"
The Walt family's ancestral creed was a lie the First Generation had told at a drinking party. It got passed down generation after generation until it became an official family tradition.
"...I was still a kid when I first heard it, so I'm not sure how seriously they meant it. But basically it boils down to 'marry a talented person,' right? Honestly, I think we can just get rid of that creed at this point — ugh!"
While I was saying that, I felt Novem's gaze pierce right through me. She'd looked genuinely heartbroken upon hearing me suggest tossing out the creed the First Generation had left behind.
Miranda seemed to notice but pretended she hadn't.
"Well, you're welcome to keep it. I've already cleared that requirement, haven't I?"
Miranda looked up at me from below, peering into my face.
"Y-yeah. Probably."
Just then, Aria, who had been sitting in front of us, glanced over at Miranda.
"The people at the estate were saying that if Novem gives her approval, there's nothing to worry about. So doesn't that mean there are more people here who haven't cleared it than those who have?"
Come to think of it, most of the people gathered here were members who had passed Novem's approval. The one she had strongly rejected was probably the princess of Rolfis.
Shannon and Eliza were playing cat's cradle together. Gracia sat watching them in a daze.
Shannon won against Eliza and turned toward me with a victory pose.
"Oh, that reminds me — there's something I've been curious about."
"What is it?"
"What are the wives in the Walt family like? I mean, regarding the head of the house, I can always ask Eva since Laiel teaches her, but I have absolutely no idea what the women of the Walt family are actually like?"
When asked again, it was true that there were many things I didn't know. I had been able to see glimpses of strictness and kindness alike within the Jewel.
But I didn't really know the wives of the successive heads—the women of House Walt—in any detail.
Eva must have grown curious too, leaning forward eagerly.
"Ooh, I want to know about that too! If they're bringing in exceptional women, that means they're all exceptional, right?"
I crossed my arms and thought about it.
"Probably, yeah."
Shannon was surveying the cargo bed of Porter. May was on top of the ceiling. Clara, who normally operated Porter, wasn't here. Monica was knitting away.
"Whoever she may be, as long as she gives birth to a chick for our young master, that's more than enough for us—and no less, either."
—Same old Shannon, glancing at the assembled crowd on Porter's cargo bed.
"But surely none of us are any less colorful than this bunch, right?"
Then Miranda looked around at everyone as well.
"That's right. Hasn't this been the most colorful group since House Walt was founded?"
She said that with a laugh. Everyone was saying things like "Definitely" and chuckling along. But I stood here in this space and thought to myself.
—Not a single one of them thinks they're anything special. They each believe they're the odd one out—
That was what I figured.
But when I looked over at Novem, she averted her gaze from me. No, rather than from me specifically, it was more like she didn't want to answer something.
"Novem, you'd know at least a little, wouldn't you? ...I mean, House Foxes must have at least some passed-down stories."
I called out to her with a slightly mischievous tone, and Novem started to panic. She couldn't tell anyone around her that she'd inherited memories through the power of the evil god. But if I asked like this, it wouldn't seem suspicious.
For some reason, Novem's eyes were darting around even more than usual.
Seeing that expression, Eva must have sensed something was up.
"I wonder if there are any interesting stories? The head of House Walt would have had all sorts of experiences, so surely his wife must have had plenty of her own? Or perhaps she had a hard time being dragged around by her husband?"
The people around her were full of eager anticipation, clearly wanting to hear more. Novem tried to dodge the question, but it was no use.
"I-I don't have that many details. Besides, I've heard that all of the wives were exceptional people who lived up to House Walt's tradition of welcoming outstanding partners. So I wouldn't want to let that tradition end with Lyle's generation—"
Shannon grinned mischievously.
"Novem is getting flustered. She definitely knows something."
Shannon had plenty of flaws, but she could read people's emotions remarkably well. Hearing this, Miranda looked intrigued.
"It's not fair that only you know. Come on, spill it."
Monica, on the other hand, was knitting with absolutely no interest.
"Hehe, this way the little chicks won't have to worry about clothing even if they're born by the dozens. And let's be real, several to several dozen are born practically every year. It's going to be non-stop caretaking."
As Monica prepared baby clothes one after another, she was practically drooling.
I swear this one never loses her composure no matter what.
Then Porter suddenly came to a halt.
As everyone lost their balance, Novem was the first to cry out.
"What happened, Clara?!"
Ignoring the looks that screamed "she's running away," Novem called out to Clara. Clara stepped out from the driver's seat.
"There was a person who was suffering. They were suffering."
She wasn't making much sense.
The cargo door opened, and when I stepped outside, I saw May standing in front of someone who was writhing in pain. The person was rolling on the ground, and half of their face was grotesquely swollen, with their right hand similarly distorted.
They were clearly in pain, but it was unsettling.
"Urrrrrrgh!! Ry-Raiellll!! Killllll!!"
It sounded like the growl of a beast.
When I drew the katana at my waist, I saw that the companions who had come down were already gripping weapons in their hands — probably because the person's condition was clearly off.
Then Shannon stuck her head out of the door and screamed.
"Wh-what is this guy… He's not even alive, and there's a Monster stuck to him… it came out from inside."
What I remembered was the sight of Bread when he had used the potion and turned into a Monster.
The human form was swollen with bulging flesh, with hair sprouting from it — to the point where they could no longer be called human.
From the nearby woods, similarly eerie growling could be heard.
I scanned my surroundings and activated my Skills.
There were multiple responses with clear hostile intent directed at us. But there hadn't been any moments ago. They had appeared suddenly.
"…Come to think of it, there were no responses in our direction of travel either."
Where had these collapsed people come from? There were humans who couldn't be detected by Skills, but almost all of them were using Skills to hide themselves.
I couldn't imagine there were enough of those kinds of humans to surround us.
The knights had encircled the man who had turned into a Monster.
"Please step back, Lord Lyle!"
The man who had suddenly rushed toward us and collapsed, then transformed into a Monster — his form now looked like a beast that had taken on a human shape.
Monica looked at the enemy and murmured.
"Rather than a Monster, he looks more like a freak. But if he's an enemy of that Chicken, let's eliminate him."
As the encircling knights thrust their weapons at the Monster, it leaped upward. Lightly, it jumped several dozen meters into the air, and at the same time, Monsters that had leaped from the woods were descending toward me.
I gripped the hilt again and prepared to meet them head-on, when a single woman soared into the sky.
"Novem."
When she swung the heirloom staff she normally carried, it transformed into a massive scythe that cleaved through every Monster in its path. She then touched down on the ground and alighted before me, and a rain of blood poured down over Novem and the rest of us.
"Novem, you—"
I reached out, but my hand stopped. I raised my head and saw that Novem's eyes were clouded over more than I had ever seen before.
Then Novem spoke in a murmur, noticing my frozen hand.
"...Please don't push yourself, Lord Laiel. I understand that this is unsettling, even to myself. I simply couldn't forgive what happened this time. I'll restrain myself from now on."
Novem was smiling as she said this, but it was terrifying. Her eyes were clouded, and her awkward, stiff smile and the blood that stained her entirely red.
I couldn't bring myself to say a word to her.