Chapter 170 - Rose War (1)

There was a place where piles of documents, always stacked high, greeted visitors.

It was a place made memorable by the sharp scent of whiskey and the gaze of a man with deep shadows under his eyes.

"Lord Vilmosi, is it really all right to keep sending magical telegrams like this?"

"..."

But now that Joseph had left, the mayor's office was filled with only someone's anxious eyes.

The mayor newly appointed by Peter was watching the lights of the magic spheres that kept flashing, worrying over the gold coins about to go up in smoke.

"This is the first time in my life I've used this many telegrams..."

"Do not worry. I will not pass the cost on to you."

Even the mayor of Soara could not help growing nervous if hundreds of gold coins burned away in the time it took to drink a cup of tea.

Yet the man before him did not so much as blink as he continued firing off telegrams to someone even now.

"The current telegrams concern matters the Family Head will fully understand as well, so there is no need to worry too much."

"Ah. Then that is truly a relief."

At the words that he would not have to bear the cost himself, the mayor of Soara stroked a hand over his chest.

The scarred man watching him snorted and set down the teacup he was holding.

'It is embarrassing even to compare him to the former mayor.'

Gold coins were certainly precious, but there were things beyond them that could not be bought with gold alone.

Things valuable because they were genuine, acknowledged by all.

But the mayor before him seemed to lack the eye to recognize such things.

'The more I think on it, the more regrettable it is. It would have been better if he had quietly stepped down from the competition.'

As he recalled his regret over Joseph and finished his assessment of the new mayor, the man waited with indifferent eyes for the next piece of news to arrive.

And before long, a magic sphere began to flash.

-Spare no support for the red rose, for the bird that will return. Expected to arrive soon.

"Hmm."

As he looked at the note the mage had written down, the man's eyes began to narrow.

The note was written in strange pronouns and a complicated cipher, but the man called Vilmosi grasped the intent behind the telegram at once.

"... As I said before, I need the materials on Rose's Smiles."

The scarred man began burning the telegram he had received in the candle flame, as if by habit.

Beneath that candle, one unfamiliar name that had not yet burned away fluttered.

"Especially regarding the woman they call the new Madam."

A golden name that could not be bought even with glittering gold coins.

Before that name, the word Vlad was clearly written.

* * *

If asked to name the place currently drawing the most attention in Soara, everyone would choose the same place.

Rose's Smiles, located in the back alleys.

With fine food and a newly introduced alcohol called beer, this place held a special meaning above all because it was a place protected by Vlad of Soara.

"The interior is every bit as splendid as it looked from the outside."

"Thank you, Baroness."

With those words, Alicia carefully watched the back of the woman guiding her.

'This person is... Lady Zemina.'

She was small in stature, but the color of her hair was as brilliant as could be.

Indeed, the building called Rose's Smiles was not the only thing unsuited to the shabby back alleys.

"As I took an interest in Sir Vlad, my eyes naturally turned to Rose's Smiles as well."

"... I see."

Alicia said she was interested in Vlad, but Zemina merely held her breath for a single moment.

The two ladies had been conscious of each other since they were still far apart.

"It feels strange, as though I am walking through Sir Vlad's childhood. I would like to hear a great deal about those days as well."

Unlike Alicia, who could give many things, the only thing Zemina could put forward was likely the memories they had shared together.

But at Alicia's words, saying she wanted to take even that, Zemina's eyes ahead of her began to sharpen.

"This is the room. It is a private room for receiving special guests."

If someone picked a fight, you had to answer it.

That was the law of the back alleys.

Vlad was not the only one who had survived in a world where backing down meant death.

"Oh..."

"..."

At the sight of the lavishly decorated private room on the third floor, the old knight Duncan let out an exclamation without realizing it.

This place, which could be called Marcella's final work, was far too splendid for two people who had lived only in some backwater domain to bear in silence.

"... This wallpaper follows the fashions of the center. It must not have been easy to obtain."

"It was indeed not easy to obtain, just as you say, but Countess Oksana lent her support."

This was Rose's Smiles.

Lady Zemina's space.

Zemina began pointing the weapons Marcella had embroidered stitch by stitch at Alicia.

"Countess Oksana?"

Alicia had wanted to say that the wallpaper did not suit the cold of the North, but the moment Oksana's name came up, she had no choice but to quietly close her mouth.

No matter how noble a noble Alicia was, before Oksana she was like a candle before the sun.

"... Are you acquainted with the countess as well?"

"Not directly."

Behind the smiling Zemina, serving girls came in and carefully set down the tableware.

Each and every one of them possessed uncommon beauty, and they were roses that had once brilliantly adorned the back alleys of Soara.

"It seems her attention follows through Lord Joseph and Sir Vlad. It is truly more than we deserve."

An inn in the land ruled by her son, protected by her son's knight.

For a mother longing for her son from afar, there could be no place more fitting to support than Rose's Smiles.

The former Madam, Marcella, had swallowed up that support and succeeded in creating the most splendid inn in Soara's history, and the transformed state of the back alleys had led entirely to Joseph's achievements.

"I see."

At the name Oksana and the plates being placed right before her, Alicia found herself at a loss for words.

Because she noticed that the tableware being set down now was far from ordinary.

Using ornate plates to seize the upper hand over the other party was quite a familiar thing in the world of noble ladies.

"... The rumors were widespread, but I did not know it would be this splendid. It was indeed worth coming here."

"Thank you for thinking so, Baroness."

Alicia's words were not empty flattery.

She had truly not thought it would be to this degree.

But Lady Zemina was a far bolder and sharper woman than she had imagined.

So much so that, in a way, Alicia thought she resembled Vlad's temperament.

"I am truly looking forward to it. Even to the food that will be served on these plates."

However, the cold blue blood Alicia possessed did not waver at Zemina's provocation.

She was someone who had gone through far too many trials to be shaken by a provocation of this level.

"Would you please prepare the menu this establishment is most confident in?"

If she could not take a single man from a mere woman of the back alleys, she would not even have the right to rule a domain.

At first, Alicia had intended to respect Vlad's memories and coax her with the kindest words possible, but if she came at her this directly, there was nothing to be done.

"I would like it to be food that lets me feel the spirit of the North."

"We will do our utmost, Baroness."

But Zemina did not know.

She did not know that her actions were instead hardening Alicia's conviction.

"I truly think it was a good thing I came here."

Alicia knew Vlad as a knight, but she did not know Vlad very well as a man, and now, seeing Zemina, she could instead be certain.

The man this woman wanted to protect even by standing against Alicia, a noble, was none other than Vlad.

The man who had wiped her parents' gravestones in the light of dusk.

Alicia now decided that she would have that man as well.

* * *

"The order is... the menu we are most confident in."

The kitchen was set up not on the first floor, but on the fourth.

Standing there, Marcella looked at the note before her and began to smile quietly.

"Well done, Zemina. Of course you should do at least this much."

At Marcella's muttering, several women standing behind her began nodding.

"Marcella can really retire now. The next Madam is no pushover either."

"I never thought that girl would grow this much."

"Vlad, Haven, too... There must be something about the kids of that generation."

The old women of the back alleys began chattering noisily as they looked at the first victory report Zemina had brought them.

Women who had lived their whole lives crumpled, torn here and beaten there.

But now they were deeply identifying with Zemina's attitude as she tried to stand proud even before a noble.

"... After this dish today, I really should retire."

Marcella quietly wiped her kitchen knife with a dry cloth, pleased with Zemina's fierce effort, and began taking out the ingredients she had prepared in advance.

"If it is a dish that lets one feel the spirit of the North, then it has to be this."

From light appetizers to stir the appetite, to the main dish and dessert.

Because of the North's nature, food grew cold if it was all served at once, so the nobles here tended to enjoy meals where dishes came out over several courses.

In other words, it was also the sort of cooking that a back-alley shop's resources could not possibly handle.

"I suppose we do not need to worry about ingredient costs today?"

However, the back-alley cooks Marcella had brought today were all women with easily twenty years of experience.

They were also women who had survived in the harsh back alleys on skill alone.

For the rose of the back alleys who would finally retire today, they decided to do their very best.

* * *

SNORT!

There was a black horse and a donkey standing on the cold road.

With a snorting sound, Noir exhaled white breath and looked toward Soara in the distance, throwing a fit as if asking why they were not going in quickly, but Vlad, who was holding the reins, merely stood still without moving.

"... What is wrong with this thing?"

A transparent glass bottle about one-third full of water.

As he looked at the glass bottle strangely standing upside down on the cold ground, Vlad's eyes shook wildly.

"Is this magic too?"

"Of course. It is magic."

Nibelun picked up the glass bottle that had been standing upside down with difficulty and threw it into the sky once more.

CLACK!

The glass bottle had spun around and risen high before falling, and this was the sight that appeared.

At the sight, Vlad opened his mouth without realizing it.

"If this is not magic, then what would you call it?"

"... Whoa, what is this?"

It had been thrown so high that even if it had landed upright, it would have been astounding, but it was standing completely upside down.

And after seeing it stand the same way even after being thrown dozens of times, Vlad had no choice but to acknowledge it now.

"If you enter the city now, something very ugly will be waiting for you. Speaking as your consulting mage, Lord Vlad, let us spend just one night here before going in."

"You want to camp out when the city is right in front of us? In this winter?"

Moshiam, trapped together with the fog, had stolen two months from Vlad, and because of that, the season now was deep winter.

Nibelun was now suggesting they camp right in front of Soara, where the city could be seen.

"Of course, the decision is yours to make, Lord Vlad."

"..."

At Nibelun's words, passing the decision to him, Vlad's expression began to grow serious.

Mystery was, as the word itself implied, something that could not be explained by reason or common sense.

Faced with this bizarre situation that could not be explained by mere probability, Vlad had no choice but to think seriously as well.

"So you are saying that if we enter Soara now, it will be very ominous?"

"That is what my divination says."

"Then is something ominous happening in Soara? Or..."

"Prophecies and readings are things you cannot understand until you face them."

At Nibelun's words that they would have to go there to know the details, Vlad began scratching his head.

'He definitely is not a fraud.'

If some street swindler had said this, Vlad would have punched him, but Nibelun's skill in pursuing mystery was something Vlad himself vouched for.

"... Let us go in right now."

"Are you sure?"

Fortune was only guidance, not the direction one had to take.

Nibelun, holding the mysterious glass bottle, asked again, but Vlad had already made up his mind.

"You said it is ominous. Then we should go even faster."

The city indicated by the dreadful reading was Vlad's hometown, and it was filled with people he could not afford to lose.

He did not know in which direction the ominousness was spreading, but Vlad decided to hurry there and stand beside them.

"Is that donkey a breed that can run fast?"

"A donkey is not, by nature, a horse built for running."

"Then make it work somehow just for today."

Noir let out a rough snort as he felt Vlad climb onto his back.

Noir, son of the plains, was missing the brush strokes of the red-haired woman.