[V8C8] On the Night Road

Monica pressed her suddenly heated cheeks with both hands, repeatedly telling herself to calm down.

Cyril had come to her because he trusted in her abilities as a mage.

(I have to live up to Cyril-sama’s expectations.)

The first order of business would be to confirm the magical connection between Cyril, Thule, and Pikeh. Next, she would need to figure out a way to include a contract with the Key of Knowledge. However, there was something Monica had to ask before doing any of this.

“Um… Cyril-sama.”

“What is it?”

Monica glanced at Cyril’s cloth-wrapped right hand.

“The Key of Knowledge said you can’t form a threefold contract, right?”

“Right. More specifically, someone contracted to both a dragon and a spirit cannot form a contract with an artifact.”

“…But if there’s no precedent, how could the Key of Knowledge assert that?”

Cyril’s movements came to an abrupt halt as Monica fidgeted with her fingers and continued in a low voice.

“…I designed the contract with Thule to minimize the burden on your body, so I don’t think there is any problem. If necessary, I can write down and explain the entire structure of the contract formula…”

The wide-eyed Cyril peeled off the cloth wrapping his right hand and removed the leather glove. The black ring was there, sparkling on the middle finger of his revealed hand.

“…You lied to me, didn’t you, Sophocles?”

In contrast to Cyril’s heavy tone, one step away from boiling point, Sophocles laughed heartily without any care in the world.

“Dahahaha! Certainly took you long enough to realize it! It’s laughable that such an ignoramus thinks he can serve as my master!”

A vein began to bulge on Cyril’s pale forehead. The boiling point of the man known as the Ice Scion was remarkably low. Whether knowingly or not, Sophocles took advantage of this prime opportunity to further goad Cyril.

“Indeed. Whether you are contracted with a dragon or a spirit, it does nothing to affect a contract with me. In other words, all your investigations were a pointless effort! Oh, how amusing it was to see you huddled in the library in such a panic!”

“…So you were deceiving me all along.”

“Deceiving? It was just a simple prank. Ah, but I must admit it was enjoyable. What a truly delightful plaything you are.”

“…And the contract?”

“I refuse to contract with a dunce like you. Hmm, well, if you were to put on a dress and flutter your eyelashes, saying, ‘Please accept me, Sophocles-sama,’ I may decide to give you another chance. Given that long hair of yours, women’s hair accessories would undoubtedly suit you.”

The blood drained from Cyril’s face, and his expression vanished in an instant. Unable to endure this, Monica interjected.

“T-That’s really mean! Cyril-sama was doing his best to form a contract with you, and…”

“Who is this plain-looking girl? Completely lacking in charm… hmm, 15 points.”

The next moment, a tremendous “Bam!” echoed through the room. It was the sound of Cyril slamming the ring onto the table.

“W-What the hell are you doing! I am an ancient artifact, a national treasure! How dare you…”

“Do not rate women with points, you shameless simpleton.”

Cyril spat out the words in a low tone, glaring fiercely at the protesting Sophocles.

The Cyril of a few months ago would undoubtedly have released a chilling aura. In the face of such intensity, Sophocles fell silent.

Meanwhile, Monica turned pale, staring at Cyril’s right hand. He had slammed his right hand onto the table, ring and all. It couldn’t have been painless.

“C-Cyril-sama… that just now, i-it must have hurt your finger…”

“No problem.”

Cyril replied curtly with a stern expression, then corrected his posture and bowed his head to Isaac.

“My apologies, Your Highness. Due to my hasty judgment and lack of knowledge, I have inconvenienced you late at night. I will take my leave immediately. Thule, Pikeh, let’s go.”

As Cyril stood up from the chair and moved to leave the room, Sophocles began making another commotion.

“You fool! Claudia is right there! Claudia! Come on, put me on those slender fingers of yours… Hey, no! Remove that glove this instant! Do not hide me!”

Cyril began to roughly fit the leather glove onto his right hand, until another hand held him down from above.

“Cyril.”

Isaac quickly removed the leather glove from Cyril’s hand and swiped Sophocles from him. The perplexed Cyril looked up at Isaac to see him with a considerate smile.

“Have you arranged for lodgings already?”

“N-No, not yet… I just arrived in Sazandol…”

“Then you should stay here for the night. Monica, is it okay if we lend Cyril one of the spare guest rooms?”

“Yes!”

Monica nodded vigorously, as Isaac took a small box from the cupboard. He casually tossed the black ring into the box and closed the lid.

Sophocles continued to yell, “How dare you treat me like this…!” but Isaac, without any change of expression, wrapped the box with a cloth. The muffled shouts were reduced to a sound as feeble as insect chirping.

Cyril frowned and looked at Isaac.

“Y-Your Highness, I…”

“Cyril, have you looked in the mirror lately? It’s an awful sight.”

Isaac spoke gently, and Cyril hung his head in shame.

“Please forgive me for displaying myself in such a state…”

“If you really feel sorry, then make up for it by resting. As I’ve always told you, you push yourself a bit too hard.”

Isaac lightly pushed Cyril’s shoulder to sit him back down, then placed the cloth-wrapped box on the table.

“I understand you couldn’t remove the artifact, fearing that it might be lost or stolen. But rest assured, this house is safer than anywhere else. After all, it’s the home of the most powerful witch in the country… Right, Monica?”

Isaac glanced towards Monica, who looked up with a jolt and nodded.

“Yes! My house is really safe! So, um… please take your time to relax, Cyril-sama!”

Ever after the arguments from Isaac and Monica, Cyril still seemed hesitant. However, the two weasels were already rolling around on the sofa as if it were their own home.

“Pikeh, Pikeh, in times like this, we should say ‘I’ll take you up on that offer‘… does that sound right?”

“Probably. I’ll take you up on that offer.”

Isaac chuckled at Thule and Pikeh’s words, then bent down in front of the two weasels.

“Do our little guests have any preferences? I can have some stew ready in no time.”

“Stew, I know that. It’s delicious. Right, Pikeh?”

“Cyril said he likes that one.”

“Yay, isn’t that great?”

In response to Thule, Cyril only nodded awkwardly with a “R-Right.”

Monica couldn’t help but look at Isaac with admiration.

(A-As expected of Ike…!)

His way of handling the stubborn Cyril reminded her of their student council days. This was a skillful maneuver that Monica, with her lack of finesse, couldn’t replicate no matter how hard she tried.

In response to her look of admiration, Isaac offered Monica a wink. Monica attempted to reciprocate the wink to convey her feeling of “That was really impressive”, but her attempt ended up with her squinting both eyes awkwardly.

After chuckling slightly at Monica’s wink attempt, Isaac turned his attention to Claudia.

“Madam, have you already decided on your accommodations?”

“Yes.”

“In that case, allow me to escort you. Can’t have you wandering around alone at this hour.”

Following his impeccable hospitality from earlier, Isaac now offered to escort Claudia to her lodgings. This prompted Cyril to rise from his chair.

“Your Highness, I can handle escorting Claudia…”

“No, you need to rest. I don’t want you collapsing again.”

“…”

Cyril fell silent. Finding the exchange somewhat nostalgic, Monica smiled a little as she raised her hand.

“Ike, I’ll keep the stew warm.”

“Make sure to use low heat, and be careful about the bottom of the pot; that part tends to scorch easily.”

“Right!”

“Oh, and you don’t need to remove the scum anymore, alright?”

“R-Right…”

Monica nodded with a slightly tense face. There had been an instance where she attempted to assist Isaac by scooping off the soup scum, which resulted in the disappearance of all the soup.

＊　＊　＊

Until recently, the northern winds would be quite chilly to those walking down the streets at night. However, the temperature had grown quite comfortable lately.

While holding Claudia’s luggage bag, Isaac deliberately walked at a diagonal behind her rather than beside her, as he voiced a question.

“Does Neil know about this incident?”

“…He’s away on a business trip.”

“I see. So you want to settle everything before Neil returns.”

Claudia responded without so much as a glance for the man walking behind her.

“…Of course. I don’t want to bother Neil with such a foolish commotion.”

A lot of emphasis was put on the word ‘foolish’.

Truth be told, Isaac didn’t view this incident as particularly serious either. Why? Because Marquis Highown had entrusted Cyril with Sophocles.

“Marquis Highown really trusts Cyril, huh?” Isaac commented.

“…My father has always been soft on him.”

“So are you. Despite what you say, you seem to like Cyril and Monica quite a bit.”

Claudia stopped in her tracks and, turning her head behind, glared at Isaac.

“…It’s not like I particularly like or dislike them.”

“When it comes to you, ‘neither like nor dislike’ is more on the ‘like’ side. At the very least, you’re not indifferent to them, right?”

When dealing with someone she found indifferent, Claudia often fell silent, as if deeming them not worth the effort of opening her mouth.

In response to Isaac’s observation, Claudia raised the corner of her lips into a sly smile.

“…I do, in fact, quite dislike you.”

I figured as much, Isaac thought inwardly.

“You never showed much respect to me, even before learning my true identity. Did I do something to offend you?”

“…”

Claudia remained silent for a while, before eventually turning around and walking off with a flick of her long black hair. Her gloomy whisper quietly dissipated into the night of the harbor town.

“…How could I possibly trust the one who brainwashed that easily manipulated boy into his right-hand man.”

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