Chapter 146
"Oh... split exactly in half."
The investigating knights poked at the magic creature’s corpse sprawled inside the cave with their feet.
"How is this possible?"
Magic creatures typically had extremely tough flesh—even when stabbed with a sword, they didn't budge. It was striking a rock.
Yet the beast's corpse that Damian had cut showed a perfectly flat cross-section as if cut by a guillotine.
A female knight nearby said, "How would we know? Even Risten who was there doesn't understand."
"What do you mean? How could Listen not know when he saw it up close?"
"He said there was a flash of light, and then it was over. He couldn't see anything because of the brightness."
"Can he control sword aura?"
"What else could it be besides sword aura?"
"At that age?"
"Or maybe magic."
"Sword aura doesn't make sense. Magic seems more plausible."
"How could magic cut like this? Did he summon a saw blade?"
"Does such magic even exist?"
"Probably not?"
"More importantly, if he can control sword aura like this at such a young age..."
They couldn't even gauge how powerful he might become when fully matured. If he properly displayed his abilities in the Principality right now, the impact would spread not only throughout the Principality but to neighboring countries as well.
Notable knight orders and academies would take notice of Damian, and most importantly...
"This will turn the Floral Tournament upside down soon."
***
The camp was now packed up and it was time to leave again. I no longer shared movements with the maids. And now I could observe daily routines while being with the Duchess.
Before departing, the Duchess spoke to the village chief who came to see them off, "You needn’t worry about the magic creature anymore."
The village chief's eyes welled with tears.
"Thank you. Thank you for looking after us lowly ones."
"Two of my guards will accompany you to help with your relocation to Rigbed."
"We will never forget your grace."
The chief gestured to a village woman behind him. She presented a long wooden cup to the Duchess.
The cup was filled with a thick, purple liquid of unknown origin.
The woman's arms trembled, clearly nervous.
Bibi expressed doubt.
"What is this?"
"It's made by mixing our few remaining crops and herbs with a traditional extract passed down through generations. It will greatly help maintain a clear soul and healthy body."
That old wooden cup was very familiar to me. It reminded me of my childhood.
Though they'd scraped together what little they had to offer hospitality, the contents were somewhat repulsive. We didn't know what ingredients were used, and the floating particles didn't look very hygienic.
Living isolated from the world, they seemed unaware that one shouldn't carelessly offer food to superiors.
How could anyone know if there was poison or something strange in there?
Gerald stepped forward and spoke.
"The Duchess doesn't consume just any herbs. Do you think this is a marketplace? Remove it."
"No. It's fine."
Bibi walked forward and accepted the wooden cup.
"My lady, let a maid taste it fir—"
Before Gerald could finish speaking, the Duchess gulped down the unpleasant liquid.
The watching guards and maids were horrified.
Even I, coming from humble origins, wouldn't have drunk such suspicious food, but Bibi took it down in one shot without hesitation.
The village chief and woman showed purely happy expressions while watching this.
How could Bibi trust people so easily?
Does she have no fear of death? Or does she think her life didn't matter?
Though she frowned deeply at what must have been a terrible taste, fortunately, she didn't collapse coughing blood.
Gerald's expression twisted as if burning with anxiety, and a late-arriving maid fidgeted while wiping Bibi's mouth with a handkerchief.
Bibi's thoughtless behavior was quite impressive.
Was my dream really about rebellion? When Bibi herself didn't guard against death much, was there any need to go to the trouble of eliminating her?
It was something to think deeply about.
***
The Principality's guard began moving in earnest toward Barbisia.
Now I had to move on foot right beside the Duchess' carriage instead of in the rear carriage.
The Duchess seemed very uncomfortable accepting me, keeping her carriage window firmly shut and not speaking a word to me throughout the journey. I only received orders from Advisor Gerald and First Unit Captain Fenril.
The tedious journey continued, and around early evening we set up camp in a frontier village called Midfuns, located at the edge of the Barbisia region.
Some travel accounts described Barbisia as a terrible environment full of swampy sinkholes, aquatic magic creatures, gas-filled fog, leeches, mosquitoes, and poisonous snakes, but the Barbisia I faced was completely different from what I'd imagined.
Far from sinking mud, there was no fog, and the sunshine was bright. Butterflies flew about, and red flowers bloomed on village walls, giving off fresh scents with each step. It was a beautiful region brimming with spring's fragrance.
Wondering if this was just the entrance or if I'd misread the map, I caught an old man drying medicinal herbs at the village entrance and asked, "I heard it rains half the month in Barbisia. Yet it's quite sunny and beautiful."
"During the dry season, it's the most beautiful land in the world."
According to settlers, while the dry season maintained this sunny, mild environment, during the rainy season torrential rains would pour down and transform it into the hellish place described in books.
The rainy season, that terrible time, still had about a month left before arriving.
Well, no one in their right mind would try crossing Barbisia during the rainy season.
For a place almost cut off from outside contact, the settlers were quite friendly to outsiders.
The old man added with a pleasant smile, "Welcome, welcome. Precious guests have arrived just before the Spirit Festival when blessings pour down across all of Barbisia."
"...Spirit Festival?"
***
The first thing needed for foot washing was fetching water.
Not just any water. Ordinary stream water wouldn't do. Though it might look clean, there could be dead animal carcasses upstream, so it had to be pure water drawn from underground.
I couldn't understand why they insisted on such strict conditions just for washing feet. Following this was another instance of incredible luxury that would shock anyone.
Gerald placed a silver water flask on the table.
"What is this?"
"The first thing you need to do is reduce questions."
His nuance seemed more like passing on know-how than criticizing me.
"I at least need to know what I'm handling."
"It's holy water brought directly from the Holy City. Drop three drops into a bucket of pure water to dilute it, and use that water for foot washing."
"..."
Using holy water just for washing feet—this was horrifically luxurious beyond any noble I'd seen.
Even at the temple, holy water was so precious that we only got one piece of bread with a few drops mixed in during important ceremonies.
But something was strange. Thinking carefully, was the Duchess really someone so obsessed with luxury and ostentation?
Not to that extent.
"Must holy water be used to wash the Duchess' body?"
"Your only job is to clean the Duchess' feet properly. So there's no reason to know more."
There might be an unavoidable reason for using holy water.
Perhaps the instruction to reduce questions was also related to the Duchess' sore spot.
For instance, something about the hereditary disease passed down through generations.
If not luxurious taste, it could be related to a curse. I felt like I was getting closer to Bibi's secret.
"Thank you for the advice."
"..."
Gerald turned and left without a word as if his business was finished.
***
Someone approached the Duchess' tent. Then came the sound of water splashing and Damian's voice.
"I've come to attend to your foot washing."
Bibi briefly squeezed her eyes shut. It wasn't a welcome time.
"Enter."
Damian walked into the tent carrying a bucket of water.
He set the bucket down in front of the chair where Bibi sat.
"As requested, I diluted it with three drops of holy water."
"..."
"Please extend your feet."
Seeing him attending so naturally suddenly made her angry.
Why did he suddenly offer to attend to my foot washing? Does Silveryn know about her disciple's strangely twisted desires?
It was infuriating how he showed no hesitation or caution toward the Principality's heir.
She raised the book she was reading to hide her face.
Damian quietly began washing Bibi's feet. He was quite thorough, washing every corner.
Then he carefully asked, "May I ask why holy water is used?"
"Using holy water makes me feel special. There's no other reason."
"You are a blessed person, Your Grace. Yet blessed people don't need holy water. Only cursed people need it."
"I don't want to hear presumptuous preaching."
"...I'll dry them now. Please raise your feet."
Damian took out a towel and waited.
Bibi pretended to be absorbed in reading while raising her foot, deliberately pressing her wet sole against Damian's face.
"..."
Damian's eyebrows twisted slightly in displeasure. It was a faint show of dislike from a man who rarely expressed emotion.
Having delivered this humiliation, she felt somewhat lighter. She asked a question, pretending to know nothing, "Ah, I'm curious about something."
"I'll answer sincerely within what I'm permitted."
"How did you catch the magic creature?"
Damian spoke while thoroughly drying her feet with the towel, "I simply cut it down when my life was in danger."
Damian dried the water and applied fragrant oil with a massage.
Cunning fellow.
As if taking revenge, he deliberately applied plenty of oil just to the soles to make them slippery.
"Is that really all?"
"Yes."
"A talent to thank the gods for. How does it feel to receive such a blessing?"
Damian finished the final steps of foot washing and stood up.
Then he dropped strange words, "...I hate god."
"..."
She was struck speechless.
This created gentle ripples in Bibi's inner thoughts.
His voice seemed to ring an alarm in her mind.
How many times in her life had she heard someone say they disliked god? The Gainax family worshiped the Goddess Akates, the Principality made it the state religion, and even held the Holy City as part of their territory. Because of this, she had never seen anyone make such blasphemous statements to her face.
Words that even Bibi dared not speak.
Yet he had no hesitation.
Though just a passing comment, for a very brief moment, it seemed to reflect this man's true inner self.
"I'll see you in the morning."
Damian picked up the bucket and walked out of the tent after finishing the foot washing.
Bibi stared blankly at the space where Damian had left.
She wondered why he came to hate god. What story could have made him hate god despite being born with such extraordinary gifts?
On one hand, she felt a strange sense of kinship with him. Though she didn't want to admit it.
Bibi also hated god.
While people might love god without reason, no one hated god without reason. Hatred always had a story behind it.