Death March to the Parallel World Rhapsody, Vol. 10

by Hiro Ainana

  “Surely any noble of the Shiga Kingdom would notice the strangeness of citing an ominous crescent moon and the deathly symbol of moonlight in one’s closing words.”

  Um, no, I have no idea.

  Thinking back, I did remember reading lines like “evil’s power is strongest under a crescent moon” and “the moon in the far end of the sky chases away evil” in some mythological picture books.

  “But in the Ashinen family, they have a different meaning.”

  “What might that be?”

  I think I can make an educated guess, but…

  “‘The moon’s divine protection’ is a code phrase that means someone is being forced to write a letter.”

  Wow. I guess nobles have a lot of enemies.

  Should she really be talking about this in front of Sokell and me at all, though?

  “And the ‘crescent moon’…”

  The viceroy’s wife’s voice was choked with tears.

  “‘The crescent moon in the night sky’ means that the writer is about to be murdered. We only use that phrase for such an occasion. You understand now, don’t you?”

  The viceroy’s wife glared at me, tears still flowing down her cheeks.

  If looks could kill, that sheer hatred would have me dead on the floor.

  …Uh-oh.

  Clearly, someone had falsified this letter and was framing me for Rayleigh’s murder.

  “Madam—”

  “Sir Sokell, you should make your claim now, too, indeed.”

  As I opened my mouth to explain the misunderstanding, the noble in green interrupted me with a smirk.

  “R-right!”

  What’s he going to accuse me of this time?

  “Sir Pendragon has a secret relationship with Princess Meetia.”

  It’s not polite to accuse someone of being a lolicon, especially when you’re obviously one yourself.

  “He’s been manipulating Princess Meetia from the shadows, holding Lady Shina as a hostage, since she requires Breath of Purification, all in order to make himself necessary to you, Madam.”

  No, that was what Sokell was doing with the ogredrink potion.

  “And he’s been spreading demonic potions throughout the city, even using them as payment to manipulate plunderers to put young Master Gerits in danger. He must have then rescued him in the hopes of gaining your trust and favor, Madam.”

  Wasn’t that also Sokell’s own plan?

  Oh, I see.

  He was hoping to pile all his own crimes on my name, in addition to the murder of Rayleigh.

  I didn’t know whether it was Sokell or the noble in green who had come up with this plan, but if I didn’t speak up, I’d likely be imprisoned and found guilty without a trial.

  Not a single person in this room would support me.

  Even putting aside the inappropriate smirk from the noble in green, the viceroy and his wife were glaring at me under the misapprehension that I was an enemy of their sons, and the guards had their hands on their swords as if they were ready to murder me at any minute.

  And then there was Sokell, assured of his own victory, sneering down at me with a twisted smile.

  Truly, I was over a barrel.

  Surrounded by enemies on all sides.

  Yet, I had only one thought.

  Checkmate, Sokell.

  I was about to turn the tables on him completely.

  “Do you have anything to say in your defense, Sir Pendragon?”

  The viceroy’s wife trembled with rage.

  Another thirty seconds or so should do it, right?

  “Yes, I believe so. Is it all right if I make two points?”

  Timing was very important here.

  “If you must, indeed.”

  “Firstly, Sir Sokell, your accusations are all actually your own misdeeds, correct?”

  “What was that?! You dare mock me?!”

  Sokell practically foamed at the mouth, but I ignored him and gazed at the viceroy and his wife.

  Five more seconds.

  “And secondly…”

  The door flew open without even a knock.

  I held my hand out toward the door as I finished my statement.

  “…Sir Rayleigh is alive, as you can see.”

  All eyes in the room turned toward the person coming in through the door.

  Sokell, especially, was so shocked, his jaw nearly hit the floor.

  Still, I thought it took a special sort of stupidity for him to actually mutter things like “impossible!” and “but he should be dead!” out loud.

  “Mother, Father, good to see you! Your prodigal son, Rayleigh, has retur— Hmm? Why are you all looking at me like that?”

  The cheerful smile on Rayleigh’s face gradually faded into a look of bewilderment.

  “Oh, if it isn’t Sir Pendragon! I’ll have to show you the ledgers from the Dragonpen Trading Company later. You won’t believe your eyes!”

  Noticing me, Rayleigh started chatting like an old friend.

  “R-Rayleigh!”

  “Huh? Father? Mother? Wow, I’m touched that you’re so happy to see me again.”

  The viceroy and his wife joyously threw their arms around Rayleigh, who seemed bemused but happy.

  I picked up the letter the viceroy’s wife had dropped and took a look.

  I knew it.

  My maxed-out “Counterfeit” skill told me right away that this letter was a fake.

  “Sir Rayleigh, did you write this letter?”

  “Hmm? That does look like my handwriting, but… Goodness, what is this? If this is someone’s idea of a joke, it’s not funny at all. Why, this conclusion makes it sound like I died. It’s as if someone was trying to set Sir Pendragon up in a trap.”

  The viceroy’s wife looked at her indignant son.

  “What did you actually write?”

  “Well, to sum it up, that Sir Pendragon saved me when I was adrift at sea, that he invested capital for me to start a trading company, and that he brought great fortune to the Ashinen family, so you should be sure to treat him kindly. I think that was about it?”

  Yes, that sounded a lot more accurate.

  As the viceroy’s wife listened to her son, she sank deep into thought.

  “Ah yes, I believe Sokell has a vassal in his house who excels at forgery, indeed,” the noble in green observed quietly.

  “L-Lord Poputema, I told you that in confidence!” Sokell hissed, which didn’t exactly help his case.

  A polite knock at the door interrupted, and a maid poked her head in to address the noble in green.

  “Lord Poputema, your retainer is here.”

  Shaking off Sokell as he tried to cling to him, Poputema walked over to the door, where a man in slightly dirty clothes whispered in his ear.

  My “Keen Hearing” skill picked up the whole conversation, of course.

  It seemed a roundup of all of Sokell’s men and the criminal guilds had begun.

  This little insurance run was the surprise I’d set up before I left.

  “Madam, a word?”

  The viceroy’s wife looked a bit irritated to have her reunion interrupted, but she silently listened as the noble in green whispered to her, telling her about the roundup in question.

  “Sokell. Thank you for your service until now.”

  “Wha—? Lady Reythel, please wait! It was not I who forged that letter! Someone is trying to frame me!”

  Sokell desperately pressed closer to the cold viceroy’s wife.

  “Did I give you permission to call me by my name?”

  “I-I’m terribly sorry, Madam…”

  Sokell bobbed his head apologetically.

  “Oh, that’s right, Mother. The area around Labyrinth City’s gotten rather unsafe these days, hasn’t it?”

  For some reason, Rayleigh chose this moment to tell his mother about the attack that had happened earlier.

  “Your carriage was attacked by a band of thieves?”

  “Mm-hmm. We were rescu
ed by some unseen mage, but still.”

  The viceroy’s wife turned her gaze toward the noble in green.

  “My subordinate relayed information about this to me earlier, indeed. One of the thieves who attacked Sir Rayleigh’s carriage was a former steward of Sokell, indeed.”

  No, he definitely didn’t say anything like that.

  “Unfortunately, the man in question was killed, so we were unable to question him, indeed.”

  Nobody died in the attack on Rayleigh, though.

  None of what the noble in green was saying made sense, but considering how Sokell had muttered “he should be dead” when he saw Rayleigh, it wasn’t necessarily hard to believe.

  As far as I knew, Sokell was the only person in Labyrinth City who would stand to gain anything from attacking Rayleigh.

  “Then it seems that what Princess Meetia said about the incident in the labyrinth was true, too.”

  The viceroy’s wife’s expression was emotionless as she spoke.

  Princess Meetia must have gone to her right after she got back to tell her that I was innocent.

  For a young girl, she had a strong sense of duty.

  “N-no, I really did follow the gold badge’s signal to rescue them!”

  Sokell’s desperate plea fell on deaf ears.

  “Sokell, you may reflect on your actions in the northern spire.”

  “B-but, Madam…!”

  “You had best put your affairs in order before the analyst from the royal capital’s judicial police arrive. I will send a letter to your parents as well. Let us pray that self-serving Count Bonam chooses you over his house’s best interests.”

  “I—I—I…”

  Looking as if he’d received a death sentence, Sokell fell to his hands and knees in the “orz” pose, as seen in ASCII art online.

  “It’s all because of him, damn him…”

  His brow against the floor, Sokell chewed his fingertips and muttered darkly.

  In his case, I felt he was getting his just deserts.

  A clear ringing echoed through the room.

  Summoned by the viceroy’s wife’s bell, two servants grabbed Sokell by the arms and lifted him to his feet.

  As they did, I made eye contact with him and saw his deep resentment.

  “It’s all your fault!”

  Shaking off the servants, Sokell strangely managed to move quickly enough to grab his short sword and lunge forward.

  The tip of the blade was coated in a dark liquid, undoubtedly some kind of poison.

  “Rayleigh!”

  The viceroy’s wife screamed.

  For some reason, Sokell had pointed his blade at Rayleigh, not me.

  The guardian knights tried to move, but they wouldn’t make it around the viceroy in time.

  Not a chance.

  I produced a nut from storage and flicked it with my finger, sending Sokell’s short sword flying into the air.

  Sokell still tried to claw at Rayleigh, but I stopped him with a restrained kick that still sent him crashing into the wall.

  According to my AR display, his unusual burst of strength and speed was from a demonic potion.

  He must have taken it while he was pretending to chew his fingers.

  “Thank you, Sir Pendragon.”

  “Not at all. I’m glad you’re all right.”

  Rayleigh rubbed his arm sheepishly.

  Now bound in ropes, Sokell was dragged out of the room.

  “Y-you’ve got it all wrong! I was just trying to murder that blasted Pendragon— I must bring about more chaos, more evil— N-no, I’m innocent!”

  Sokell shouted incoherently.

  Hmm. Maybe demonic potions had a side effect of derangement?

  As he was dragged a bit roughly down the hallway, Sokell continued to scream nonsense until he was out of earshot.

  He probably deserved it, but it was still a pitiable end.

  “Perhaps someone was controlling Sir Sokell with Psychic Magic, indeed.”

  “Psychic Magic? That accursed black art?”

  The viceroy’s wife furrowed her brow.

  So Psychic Magic really was a hated art.

  I tried searching on the map, but I didn’t see any Psychic Magic users in Labyrinth City.

  “We shall investigate this and the corpse potions Sir Sokell’s friends were using, indeed.”

  “Yes, please do.”

  With an exaggerated bow to the viceroy and his wife, the noble in green left the room.

  I was a little curious about Sokell’s strange behavior in the end and the apparent attempts by the noble in green to entrap him, but if I looked into the matter too deeply, I’d probably only get caught up in even more trouble.

  A wise man lets sleeping dogs lie, as they say.

  Epilogue

  Satou here. Sometimes when nothing seems to go your way, you’ll struggle with all your might, until finally you’ll find that everything just falls into place like dominoes. But that’s not just luck—it’s all the experience you built up while you were struggling.

  “My, Sir Pendragon is actually a friend of yours, Rayleigh?”

  “Well, sure. He saved my life, and he’s the investor and co-owner of my company, the Dragonpen Trading Company.”

  After the viceroy’s wife apologized to me for the incident, we moved from the official parlor to a private living room.

  Now that the misunderstanding had been resolved, the viceroy’s wife was so nice, she was like a completely different person.

  “Madam, we’ve brought the gifts from Sir Pendragon.”

  While we were chatting, a steward brought in my gifts on a pedestal.

  Aside from the same light stone accessories I’d given out in the old capital, they were mostly goods I’d acquired on the sugar route.

  Spotting the conspicuous sculpture of a young man on the pedestal, the viceroy uttered a breathy “Ooh!”

  Remaining composed, his wife quickly started talking to cover his behavior.

  “These are all quite valuable in the Shiga Kingdom, especially this sculpture here…”

  However, with his geekdom unleashed, the viceroy couldn’t seem to stop himself.

  “This is a masterpiece by Garudoira of the Flue Empire—from his fabled later period, no less! His apprentices could never evoke such liveliness! It’s undoubtedly by the hand of the master himself, and unquestionably—”

  “…Dear.”

  The viceroy’s wife stopped his fervent ranting about the artwork with a quiet word.

  I’d just picked it out at random, so I was glad it turned out to be a piece that pleased the enthusiastic viceroy.

  At any rate, this was an impressive room.

  The opposite wall was largely made of glass panes, rare in Labyrinth City, that looked out onto a flourishing garden, and glass decorations throughout the room reflected the light beautifully.

  Unlike the first room, where we hadn’t even had tea, this time we were brought delicious blue-green tea and delicate tea cakes.

  The honey candies made by the chef were as beautiful as jewels, but they were a little too sweet for me.

  “Wow, what unusual pastries.”

  “So they’re called castellas, are they? Absolutely delightful.”

  Rayleigh and his mother were thrilled by the sponge cakes I’d brought.

  “Rayleigh, you said that Sir Pendragon is the co-owner of your company? Whatever do you mean?”

  Once she’d finished her cakes, the viceroy’s wife returned to the subject we’d been discussing when we first entered the room.

  “It’s just as I say. If it weren’t for him, I never would have thought to start a company like this.”

  “All I did was provide Lord Rayleigh with some capital and ships.”

  I didn’t want him to talk me up too much, so I simply provided the truth.

  Now, the viceroy didn’t seem interested in the tea and cakes and was too busy deciding how to display his new sculpture to join in on the conve
rsation.

  “Oh, don’t be modest. Even an esteemed noble of the royal capital wouldn’t be able to provide three ships all on their own.”

  Well, I just happened across those ships unmanned on the ocean, so…

  “Besides, without your Liquor Marquis title and vast funds, we wouldn’t have been able to turn such a big profit so quickly.”

  Vast funds? All I gave them was about twice as much as the amount of money they needed to start buying stock.

  With my ridiculous wealth, that was practically pocket change.

  “Liquor Marquis? I’ve scarcely heard the name before. Is it related to the Liquor Baron title from the Kingdom of Sorcery Lalagi?”

  “That’s right. Liquor Marquis is a higher rank than Liquor Baron, comparable to a regular marquis in Lalagi. It’s like a magic title that makes almost all those awful tariffs disappear.”

  Rayleigh bragged to his mother as if the title was his own.

  Then he produced a jewelry box from the bag next to him and had a servant put it on the table.

  “Tariff? It couldn’t be…”

  “That’s right. It’s the Heaven’s Teardrop that the ladies of the royal capital love so much.”

  Rayleigh grinned proudly as his mother opened the box and broke into a smile.

  “Oooooh, good heavens! How very beautiful!”

  The viceroy’s wife wasn’t the only one to exclaim in surprise. The ladies-in-waiting around us clutched one another and shrieked their admiration.

  It was such a far cry from the graceful demeanor they’d been displaying that I almost got whiplash.

  I guess Heaven’s Teardrops were just that popular.

  “This is truly splendid craftsmanship. You can see the patterns so clearly when you hold it up to the light.”

  “Mother, I’d like to sell these in a salon in the royal capital. Do you think you could put in a word for me with Count Litton’s wife?”

  “Yes, of course. Ema will be thrilled.”

  As Rayleigh told me later, Ema Litton was Count Litton’s wife, a close friend of the viceroy’s wife, and particularly skilled at spreading information among the noblewomen of the royal capital.

  “Still, I’m amazed you were able to come by such an incredible product. Perhaps you have a gift for trade?”

  “I’d like to think so, but this is thanks to Sir Pendragon’s influence, too. Since I was flying his noble flag, I was entrusted with bringing Prince Sabaan of the Kingdom of Ishrallie back to his homeland. Thanks to that connection, I was allowed to deal in Heaven’s Teardrops.”