Birthday Trap 12
The Duke Clark’s residence in the royal capital is located in one of the most refined districts, where high-ranking nobles gather.
The estate is vast, and while it’s slightly smaller than the manor on their domain, it is far more spacious than the residences of other nobles in the capital. The mansion itself, though not ostentatious, exudes luxury, with every piece of furniture being of the highest quality.
The room prepared for Liliana was a guest room. Although she didn’t have a personal room, it seemed that Clyde, who frequently visited the capital, didn’t have one either. Liliana understood that this mansion was likely the Duke of Clark’s castle.
She ascended the heavy staircase, her feet sinking into the red carpet. One of the guest rooms on the second floor had been designated for her stay. The room, while simple, was tastefully furnished, with everything arranged in perfect balance.
The window offered a full view of the beautiful garden. Though smaller than the estate where Liliana lived on the outskirts of the capital or the Fortia domain mansion, it was meticulously maintained. The garden, centered around a fountain, was symmetrically designed, likely to the Duke's taste.
Around the fountain stood three statues of men, with a statue of a woman at the center. The woman was draped in a robe, a halo resting on her head. The men represented a hero with a sword, a mage holding a gem, and a sage raising a mirror. These were the three heroes who ended the Three Hundred Years of Darkness and laid the foundation for the Kingdom of Slibegrad. The central woman was the Saint— the one who, alongside the heroes, brought peace to this land.
(I had no idea Father was so fond of hero tales) Liliana thought.
The canopy of the bed was embroidered with scenes from the Three Hundred Years of Darkness, and the Duke’s private study at the Fortia estate contained books on the same subject. Perhaps the Duke admired one of the three heroes.
As she considered this, Liliana took a small notebook from her luggage. She kept a daily diary, writing just a sentence or two each day. Occasionally, her entries would be longer, but she generally recorded the events of the day concisely. It was less of a diary and more of a report; Liliana never wrote about her feelings.
She sat by the window and opened the diary. The previous day’s entry detailed the analysis of the frozen monster she had captured.
There wasn’t much they had been able to discern. However, the monster’s body structure was remarkably similar to that of a human, which differed significantly from the monster she had defeated when Petra had summoned her before. That monster had a structure almost identical to that of an animal.
Moreover, the strange magic formula found inside the current monster—though its effects remained unidentified—was something she had never seen before. While it hadn’t been activated, it was unclear what damage might occur if she tried to activate it without fully understanding it.
Liliana had a hypothesis, but to confirm it, she would need to analyze the five magic stones that had been in the bag Petra carried.
However, Liliana had little experience in analyzing curse magic. Ideally, she would have liked to do the analysis with Petra or Ben Draco.
On the table was a cup of hot milk Marianne had prepared. A sip of the warm drink relaxed the tension in her body.
Liliana hadn’t brought much luggage. She was already prepared for bed, and all that remained was to write in her diary before sleeping. She let out a small yawn.
She wanted to go home as soon as possible, but the roads scarred by the monster stampede were still in disrepair. Until the roads were cleared enough for a carriage to pass, she would have to stay at the Duke Clark’s residence in the capital.
(I haven’t been sleeping well at all…)
Two nights had passed since she returned from the palace. On the first night, she thought her nerves were on edge from passing through the palace and visiting the site of the monster stampede. But even the next day, Liliana didn’t sleep well. Despite having plenty of time, her sleep was shallow, and she felt tired and sleepy throughout the day.
She had the impression that she had been dreaming, but the memories of those dreams were vague. Moreover, her body felt heavy and sluggish, more so than mere sleep deprivation would account for.
“<Purification>.”
Wondering if something malevolent was lingering around her, Liliana attempted to purify the room just in case. But she felt no change. Deciding it wouldn’t help to dwell on it, she stopped worrying about her condition.
There were several things weighing on Liliana's mind. One was Petra. After healing her with magic and teleporting her to Ben Draco's private residence, Liliana had not been able to check on her well-being due to being preoccupied with subduing the monsters. Petra shouldn’t suffer any lasting injuries, but neither Petra nor Ben Draco, let alone Paul, Belastar, or Tania, knew that Liliana had been at the site of the monster attack. Yet, it was strange that Liliana knew Petra was at Ben's house, gravely injured. As a result, Liliana couldn’t easily visit Petra.
Another concern was Ben Draco's situation, which she overheard using a spell. He had been detained on suspicion of tampering with the teleportation array. Liliana hoped the charges had been cleared and he was free, but there was also a chance he was still in custody.
There was a strong possibility Ben had been framed, but if that were the case, evidence to convict him might have been planted. Liliana wished she could do something, but she didn’t even know where Ben was at the moment. She could teleport to him if she knew his location, but without that knowledge, she couldn’t act recklessly. If he were being held in the palace’s underground prison, where magic was suppressed, she wouldn’t be able to escape either. She could teleport in, but after that, there would be no options left.
She considered sending out a cursed rat to find him, but even if she did, there wasn’t much more she could do at this point.
“...I should just sleep.”
Worrying endlessly wouldn’t solve anything. Though it was a little early, Liliana slipped into bed. Despite the luxurious bedding, it wasn’t very comfortable. Nevertheless, she closed her eyes. Even if she couldn’t sleep, simply resting her body would make a significant difference in her fatigue. Gradually, her consciousness began to drift toward the edge of sleep—unaware that her body was being enveloped by a purple haze.
The purple haze that surrounded her emitted an eerie glow as it began etching complex patterns onto the bed. It traced a circle around Liliana, within which fluid, shifting symbols and ancient characters appeared. As this occurred, Liliana’s face twisted in a grimace, and cold sweat poured from her forehead. Her body felt like it was burning, but her tightly shut eyes remained closed.
This purple haze had appeared over Liliana’s bed every night since she returned from the palace.
*****
Knight Commander Thomas Hegaty and Second Squad Captain Danhill Calvert entered a room in the royal palace, a summons in hand. They had been called to attend a meeting concerning the recent monster attack and stampede, but neither of them had a good feeling about it.
As expected, the sight of the people inside made them want to grimace, though Hegaty managed to keep his expression perfectly neutral, while Danhill’s cheek twitched slightly.
“Knight Commander Thomas Hegaty and Second Squad Captain Danhill Culvert, reporting as summoned,” Hegaty announced curtly.
Waiting for them were Crown Prince Riley Williams Slibegrad, the chancellor, several members of the advisory council, and the head of the Ministry of Magic. The two knights were not offered seats, and the meeting’s facilitator, Count Mellars, began speaking without preamble.
“The reason you were summoned today is that we need to confirm the facts regarding the monster attack and stampede.”
Neither Hegaty nor Danhill responded, silently waiting for him to continue. Count Mellars glanced at them before returning his gaze to the documents in front of him.
“At the scene of the monster attack and stampede were Commander Hegaty, twenty-five members of the Second Squad, one knight apprentice, and two mages. Of those, the ones who returned were Commander Hegaty, thirteen members of the Second Squad, and the knight apprentice. Is that correct?”
“That is correct,” Hegaty answered tersely. Count Mellars nodded, his sharp eyes scanning the room, noting that the head of the Ministry of Magic, Nicholas Bergson, was barely hiding his displeasure. Most likely, Bergson was upset that the two mages hadn’t returned. However, Count Mellars remained unfazed and continued his questioning.
“The monsters were subdued and then purified. However, there are some unclear points. Did the knights truly handle the subjugation and purification?”
“What do you mean by that?”
Suspicious gazes turned toward Hegaty and Danhill, but Hegaty neither confirmed nor denied anything. As for Danhill, he remained silent, determined to leave the matter entirely in Hegaty’s hands. He kept his expression neutral, making sure not to do anything that might jeopardize the knights' position.
It was Marchioness Finch, looking irritated, who answered Hegaty’s question.
“None of the knights were accompanied by a holy mage, correct? To purify a monster stampede of that scale in such a short time would require the power of a holy mage. And as for subjugating the monsters, I’ve heard it was an unusually large-scale attack. Yet, you’re telling us that with just twenty-five members of the Second Squad—no, even if we include the commander and the apprentice, with just twenty-seven people—you were able to handle it? That’s what I’m asking.”
Upon hearing this, Hegaty’s expression didn’t falter. Instead, a faint, almost mocking smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
“I see. So what you’re saying is that you believe we either failed to perform our duties or resorted to methods we were not supposed to use in order to fulfill them?”
His voice was calm, but it had the sharpness of a drawn sword, causing a few people to avert their eyes in discomfort. However, there were also those who glared at Hegaty with barely concealed hostility, while others watched the proceedings with detached interest. The one who finally raised his voice was Minister Bergson.
“Don’t try to wriggle your way out of this, Thomas Hegaty! It’s obvious that you couldn’t have handled a monster stampede of that magnitude on your own. And the two exceptional mages the Ministry dispatched have not returned. Did you abandon them to silence them?”
Danhill’s eyebrow twitched at the word “exceptional.” One of them had been a novice, while the other had been a “placeholder” mage who had refused to use any magic despite being on the battlefield. The novice had fought bravely until the end, but the “placeholder” had abandoned the fight halfway through. It was likely they had been killed by monsters on their way back, but calling them “exceptional” was utterly laughable.
—And now, of all things, they’re accusing us of abandoning them to die?
Danhill felt his anger boiling over. This man, Bergson, had just declared that the lives of thirteen of his comrades were worth less than the two mages. If those two mages had been holy mages—or at the very least, if they had done the bare minimum—they might have made it back to the capital. Eden might not have been so severely injured that his career as a knight was now in jeopardy. It was all speculation, but it was still an insult of the highest order to speak so disrespectfully to knights who had risked their lives in battle. Danhill clenched his teeth so hard it hurt.
A vision of Eden flashed in his mind—the brief moment he had been conscious that morning. Eden, pale as a ghost and completely drained of energy, was nothing like his usual self. Although it was a relief to see him awake compared to when he had been unconscious, the sight had still been a shock to Danhill.
Eden had been with him since the day Danhill joined the order. He couldn’t count the number of times he had been scolded or even punched by him. Looking back, Danhill admitted he had been an insufferable child back then.
As a commoner who had struggled to make it into the Second Squad, Eden must have found the sight of an arrogant, privileged noble brat like Danhill infuriating. When Danhill had first been assigned to the Second Squad, Eden had coldly told him, “You don’t belong here.” Danhill had been overjoyed the first time Eden smiled at him, feeling like he had finally earned his respect. When Eden had eventually told him, “There’s no one better suited to lead the Second Squad than you,” Danhill had responded by asking Eden to be his comrade in arms.
—Because he knew Eden would protect him, even at the cost of his own life.
The thought of Eden dying for his sake was unbearable. Danhill had never voiced it, fearing Eden would scold him for being soft, but he had always hated the idea of Eden getting hurt because of him. That was why he had trained so hard—to prevent that from happening.
So that Eden wouldn’t have to protect him.
And so that he could protect Eden instead.
Danhill wanted to repay Eden for everything he had done. But when he told Eden that, Eden had laughed and said, “Don’t repay me. Do the same for your juniors.” That was why Danhill admired him so much and couldn’t help but look up to him.
Yet this time, Eden had nearly died because of Danhill. The wound on his thigh had a low chance of healing, which meant Eden might have to retire from the knights. If he left the order, Eden would likely return to his rural home, and Danhill would hardly ever see him again. Even if they did meet, Eden, no longer a knight, would never yell at him like before.
Danhill had no desire to see a polite and deferential Eden. More than anything, he admired Eden in his knight’s uniform. He had always looked up to him and wanted to become a magic knight like Eden. He had always wanted to follow in his footsteps. But now, Eden had nearly died. And it was all Danhill’s fault.
As Danhill stood by Eden’s bedside this morning, Eden, pale and haggard, had barely managed to lift the corners of his mouth into a small smile. In a rough, raspy voice, he’d spoken with his usual brusque tone.
<What’s with that face? Your looks are the only thing you’ve got going for you.>
<—And what about you? How much longer do you plan to laze around when your only strength is your stamina?>
The familiar banter was so typical of Eden that it left Danhill momentarily speechless, on the verge of tears. Somehow, he managed to respond. Eden had chuckled softly before closing his eyes again. Danhill could tell that Eden’s strength was waning. The relief that Eden was alive mixed with the sorrow of knowing how much he would lose in the future left Danhill’s heart heavy. But he knew he had no right to lament. That was not his place.
The rage Danhill had barely managed to suppress flared up again at Bergson’s words. It turned into a seething anger, threatening to manifest as wild magic. But he held it back. He knew acting on his emotions now would lead to nothing good. As Danhill clenched his fists tightly, Hegaty murmured a quiet “Oh?” The coldness in his voice helped to cool Danhill’s head. Hegerty’s tone was one Danhill had rarely heard before, even within the knight order—stripped of all emotion, yet with a cruel and intense anger simmering beneath the surface.
“It is well known that knights often lose their lives during monster stampedes. Indeed, during this latest subjugation, approximately half of the Second Squad—twelve members—fell in battle. The remaining fifteen returned, but none without injuries. Some are still in critical condition, with their recovery uncertain. I’m sure the esteemed minister is well aware of this, but just to be clear—”
The Second Squad’s vice-captain, Eden, had barely clung to life. Though he briefly regained consciousness this morning, he remained unconscious for most of the time, his fever still high, with no clear timeline for recovery. The fact that he had survived at all was nothing short of a miracle, thanks solely to the purifying light that had enveloped them just before they teleported. Without that light, the miasma would have consumed his body, and Eden would have died before they even returned.
Hegaty and Danhill, too, would not have recovered so quickly without that light.
“We knights risk our lives in every monster subjugation. We have no luxury to protect others. The bare minimum required to join a subjugation is the ability to protect oneself, as I’m sure the minister knows well. When you decided to keep the holy mages in the capital for its defense, we expected to be accompanied by experienced mages with the skill to match.”
And yet—Hegerty continued without pausing. His eyes were sharp, piercing through Bergson like a blade.
“Of the two mages dispatched to us, one was a feeble coward who could not even erect a barrier and sought only to have the knights protect him. The other was an inexperienced novice who couldn’t even perform healing magic. If anyone abandoned them to die, it was you, not us. Furthermore, by assigning such mages to our unit, you reduced the chances of successfully subjugating the monsters and put our lives in danger. Before you lay blame on us, perhaps you should first reflect on your own decisions and consider where the true responsibility lies.”
Hegaty’s voice, though subdued, was so low and menacing that it radiated a palpable killing intent, enough to make Bergson tremble.
—