Chapter 228
Hubert's venture seemed to be going smoothly.
Every time Hubert said a few words, the twin-braided girl laughed brightly. The disapproving glances from nearby noble ladies hinted at his success.
A moment later, Hubert returned with a flushed face, the afterglow of his witty conversation still lingering.
He waved a Stitch marker in his left hand, showing it off.
"Look, Captain Ahab has returned."
"I'm surprised. I thought you'd come back with the girl."
"She said we'd play separately for a while. I have to give her some space. She needs time for my presence to sink in."
I knew this type. Hubert wasn't the kind of guy to just let go of opportunities to play with girls. There must be something that made him come back.
"Is that really why?"
"Damn, of course not. She's a bloody bomb. Do you know why she brought an artist with her? To capture all her beautiful moments. And she didn't even choose someone with a good style, just someone who'd draw her legs long and her chin slender. She's a woman so full of ego she's about to burst."
"Didn't you like twin braids?"
Hubert feigned innocence.
"Who? Using two ties for something that could be done with one? Isn't that psycho?"
"..."
"Almus was wrong. All twin-braided girls are just crazy."
Before his fuss could get worse, I cut him off sharply, "Alright. That's enough."
He seemed to realize he had gotten too excited and immediately agreed.
"Ha, right. Let's erase the bomb and focus on the next venture."
Hubert picked up the glass again and pocketed the silver coins inside. Then he rolled his eyes left and right and suddenly thrust the empty glass in front of my nose.
"What are you doing?"
"It's not over yet. Just put something in. We need to pretend we're doing something."
He nods his chin towards somewhere. In that direction, I could see noble ladies watching us while covering their mouths with fans.
Meeting that sticky gaze brought a strange sense of revulsion. It felt like they had been watching us all along, not just now. I took out a silver coin and put it in the glass. Then Hubert also took out one silver coin and put it in, taking a deep breath and looking around.
"Haa, let's see. How about her?"
At the end of the party hall he pointed to with his chin, there was a girl leaning on the railing. She was one of the Imperial group but seemed unable to adapt to the party. While becoming a lonely woman was a good strategy to attract men's attention, she was slightly different. With her pale face and robe pulled over her head, stepping sideways whenever someone approached, she seemed to be sending a "no approach" signal to the whole world.
"Isn't she just your type? A sickly and lonely-looking woman. Like that spirit summoner. At least she's not a bomb. But she's not an easy target. I bet one, no, five that you can't seduce that woman."
He took out four more silver coins, put them in the glass, and shook it.
Looking at her, I roughly understood what he meant by saying she was like Luna. In her eyes as she looked around, there was both curiosity about the new place and fear of strangers. Just like a kitten taking its first steps into an unfamiliar world.
"What are you doing?"
"What else, trying to save you. Would you rather be caught by a noble lady with a snake in her belly or play with a gentle and delicate girl? Think about it. Once those people bite, they go all the way. Their minions cook for you, do your laundry, even raise your kids. It's not like they're handling state affairs. The husband always sleeps with his back turned. They have a lot of money and time. So what do they do? Hunt. They hunt."
"You seem to be enjoying this quite a bit."
"Not exactly. Up to ten years older is fine, but beyond that... Damn, getting sponsorship at the beginning of the semester was the root of the problem. What can I do but accept it now that it's come to this?"
"..."
Hubert's brow furrowed slightly. He brought his face close and spoke secretly, "The worst part is, despite being called duchess or countess with hundreds of vassals, they like it more and get more excited when you treat them like country girls. Me, this bright green young lad. Dirty and vulgar things. Does it sound like an insult? But they like this talk too. Damn it."
"..."
While Hubert was explaining, the noble ladies who didn't know he was badmouthing them waved. To this, Hubert responded with a business smile and greeted them back.
"I guess it makes them feel like they've gone back to when they were younger. The funny thing is that real young ladies want to be treated like duchesses. Speaking of which, if those vulgar things drag me to their chambers, please save me. Like you saved Cecil, become a masked pervert on a white horse and save your friend from lust, obsession, and the husband's suspicion."
"Don't drag me into this."
He offered a fist bump, but when I didn't reciprocate, he slowly lowered it.
Hearing his complaints mixed with jokes made me think. I felt a bit sorry for this guy, sensing the hardships hidden beneath his cheerfulness. Well, come to think of it, it was his own doing.
"...I appreciate that you're trying to help me, but anyway, I can't do it because I already have a partner. If Cecil finds out..."
He put his palm to his ear, pretending not to hear.
"What, what? You're approaching for analysis of the exchange competition forces? That's a good idea?"
"..."
"Time's up, friend. You have no choice."
The noble ladies who were scattered around started to slowly gather, smelling the scent of a man without a partner.
In the end, I also took out four silver coins and put them in the glass.
"Don't gulp it down, keep it safe."
"You're too serious, you won't be able to seduce her."
I knew it was an obvious provocation, but hearing it from this guy somehow made me feel competitive. I needed to get the Stitch marker, even if it was for force analysis.
As the noble ladies gathered around Hubert, I quickly left my seat.
"Oh my, where is that gentleman going?"
Hubert shrugged and played dumb.
"He says he can't stay any longer because of a boil on his bottom."
"Puhah, uh... he has... more flaws than he looks."
"You should ask for help. I squeeze my husband's all the time."
I barely resisted the urge to go back and punch Hubert.
***
Misha was standing at the railing, admiring the view of Rigved and the Eternia River spread out below. She wanted to enjoy the party, but her heart kept pounding, leaving her unable to do anything but drift alone.
She had no inferiority complex about her appearance, but after seeing the striking looks of the three men and women from the rival academy that Comte had introduced, she strangely felt intimidated and pulled her robe down low.
Even her long pink hair, treated as a symbol of luck in the Empire, wasn't recognized here, making her feel only embarrassed.
Being from the 12th Magic Tower and the Imperial Royal Academy would have earned admiring glances in her hometown, but here she was just an ordinary student from another region.
Just then, a man stood next to her, one step away, and admired the scenery just like her.
Startled, she let out a small, "Oh," and stepped one step further away.
The place where they stood was at the end of the party hall, with no one else around except the two of them.
With her vision obstructed, she slightly lifted her robe to peek sideways. Brown hair. A bracelet that looked like an artifact. And an Eternia ring on his finger. He was the Eternia student that Comte had briefly introduced. Even with just a glance, his appearance was intense enough to be memorable.
She looked back at the view of Rigved, but an uncomfortable feeling rose inside her, making it impossible to concentrate like before.
Then the man spoke first, "Do you smoke tobacco by any chance?"
"...Pardon?"
"I asked if you smoke tobacco."
"Ah, no?"
"An alchemy book once explained the social utility of tobacco. It said that maladjusted people should bring tobacco when going to parties. If you're alone admiring the view outside at a grand party, people just see you as a loser, but if you have tobacco in your hand, they see you as a lonely philosopher."
Misha thought for a moment and said, "Are you saying... I'm a loser?"
The man turned his pockets inside out to show her.
"I don't smoke either. So I thought maybe we maladjusted people could keep each other company."
"...That sounds plausible. Alright."
Misha's mother had drilled one thing into her young daughter's mind.
Don't be deceived by appearances.
Her mother considered herself a victim deceived by appearances and hoped her daughter wouldn't go down the same path.
She couldn't understand why her mother had such a wound, as her father wasn't particularly handsome, neither in his youth nor now.
The man in front of her, aside from his appearance, seemed quite sincere and trustworthy in his voice and way of speaking.
He seemed different from the losers who poured out flattering comments trying to approach her.
She offered a handshake.
"...I'm Misha. From the 12th Magic Tower, and the Imperial Royal Academy."
In fact, her hand trembled slightly due to lack of experience in such situations. Offering a handshake wasn't a natural action for her. It came out because her tutor had instilled in her the appropriate behavior for this situation.
The man fell into thought for a moment.
Why did he need to think about exchanging introductions? Misha wondered but waited patiently.
"Hubert. My name is Hubert."
Then he accepted the handshake.
"Hu… bert?"
"Yes, Hu.bert."
"Then the person named Damian..."
He frowned as if dealing with a false rumor.
"He doesn't come to places like this, just trains at home. Did someone say he was here?"
"Ah, I must have been mistaken."
Her heart sank. She had been earnestly told by a friend that Hubert was Eternia's greatest spectacle. Of course, in a bad way. Meeting this person of concern right in front of her, whom her mother would surely have detested if she knew, made her tense up with her hands and feet freezing.
"I can't see your face well, would you take off your robe?"
"Ah... okay."
As she took off her robe, her pink hair that had been roughly tucked in fell down her back.
"It's a symbol of luck."
"...Yes."
He was the first person to recognize it since coming here, but because of the name Hubert, every word felt like a pickup line from a lecher.
The man showed confusion.
"What's wrong?"
"The woman who was with you... is she from Eternia too?"
"Yes. Why?"
"Just, I thought I was the prettiest in the world, but seeing her, I felt... something. The world is so wide... I need to work harder..."
The man tilted his head slightly.
"You thought you were the prettiest... yourself?"
"That's right. I really did."
"Looking at you now, I think twin braids would suit you very well."
"Ah, re… ally?"
Feeling pleased, she unconsciously stroked her hair. Then she caught herself almost letting her guard down. Men's compliments should be most guarded against. It was her mother's advice.
"But, I heard that Hubert is a terrible womanizer..."
The man nodded proudly.
"That's right. I'm crazy about it."
"Oh, you're honest."
"To be even more honest. I like all women that exist in the world. It's like, every time I see one, desire boils up from my lower abdomen?"
His way of speaking was strange, but due to her lack of experience in conversing with men, she couldn't be sure of the impression she got.
She had heard that being rough and honest was a characteristic of men. Maybe this was natural.
"Haha... You live... interestingly."
Only then did her mind start turning.
He wasn’t in his right mind. Looking at his calm eyes, he seemed a bit crazy.
I was momentarily deceived by his first impression and appearance. Sensing that Hubert was exactly as his infamous reputation suggested, her vision went dark.
She wanted to ask her friends for help, but they were too far away and not interested in Misha anyway.
"Why is your expression like that?"
"Ah, you're quite... a character. Haha. You do look like that kind of person. Liking alcohol, enjoying various things... and love."
"But I love art just as much as my passion for women."
"I... don't believe you at all."
"How can I prove it?"
"Then, name an artist from Claridium."
"Hmm... I like Braque too, but I like Rotulek the best. Due to his unfortunate life story, he paints more humanly than anyone else. I've only seen reproductions, so I'd like to see and appreciate his work in person."
"You know... Rotulek?"
It wasn't just something he said to bluff. If he knew Rotulek and understood his work, he was a person with deep knowledge.
"Why?"
"My mother has been sponsoring him for a long time... Although my mother has sponsored many people, Rotulek was one of them."
"Wait, was that famous anecdote about you? The one about discovering a genius painter with paralyzed lower body who was despised by everyone."
When Rotulek was mentioned, his calm tone throughout suddenly became strangely animated. His interest in art was real.
"Oh, that's right. You really do like it... But, we've cut off sponsorship now."
She tried to suppress any forming sense of intimacy towards the man, recalling her mother's teachings.
"Did something happen?"
"Yes, recently he rejected sponsorship and... went into seclusion... These days his style has changed so much... I don't know how to describe it."
"Changed? Why would he change a style that took so much effort to perfect?"
It took at least several years, sometimes a lifetime, for a painter to perfect their own style. It was extremely rare for an already successful painter to change their completed style.
But Rotulek chose to change, and even the patron who had supported him for ten years didn't know what had changed him.
"I don't know either. I'm not an expert in art, but my mother said it seems like the soul has disappeared from his paintings, that he sold his artistic spirit for money, that he's become a rattle of the market only doing what the market likes... She was extremely angry."
"Was it really about money?"
"I don't know. It seems like the whole atmosphere there is changing. Whether it's a new artistic trend... I don't understand. The artists who moved here to Rigved also... seem to have become disillusioned as the people they respected suddenly changed. Of course, there are still many who remain and continue together."
"..."
"Ah, my friends are calling. I, I'll go now. You really do like art. It was nice to meet someone who likes Rotulek."
"It was nice to meet you too."
"My mother said that people who like Rotulek all have pure souls... but there are exceptions too. Kuk kuk."
"Ah, before you go, can you give me a Stitch marker? I have more to ask about Rotulek."
"Ah, what?"
"And I'll be going to Claridium soon, I'll bring you news about Rotulek."
"Oh, um..."
She bit her nails for a while, pondering. He seemed like a lecher, but also a warm person, and maybe a con artist. She couldn't figure out his personality from just one meeting.
After much deliberation, she finally accepted the request. She had a personality that couldn't refuse.
She fumbled in her robe's inner pocket and handed over a marker, saying, "...Alright. But don't write anything strange in the letter."
"Why?"
"If you get caught, my father might send an assassin. He's very strict about interactions with the opposite sex... This is not an exaggeration."
"Okay, don't worry. Ah, but since letters might get mixed up in the dormitory, could you make sure to write Hubert?"
"Okay."
"Hubert. Now, repeat after me. Hu—bert."
"...?"
***
I approached Hubert only after he had sent away all the noble ladies. Then I placed the Stitch marker on the table with a loud clap and said, "A boil on the bottom?"
"Calm down. I was trying to protect you. How could they catch a man with a boil on his bottom?"
"Forget it. I've paid you back by raising your status too."
"Paid back? What are you talking about?"
"Anyway, I won the bet."
As I tried to collect the money, he quickly grabbed the glass containing the silver coins and said, "No, no, it's not over yet."
"What do you mean?"
"I bet that you couldn't seduce her, not that you couldn't get the marker."
"That's just wordplay, isn't it?"
"No, you should have carefully examined the contract. 'The devil is in the details.' Haven't you heard that?"
"..."
"Now that you've got the marker, let's proceed with the game."
"..."
"Finish seducing her completely, then come to me. I'll keep the money safe until then."
***
After the party ended, I walked with Cecil through the foggy night streets of Rigved.
Perhaps because she was quite drunk, Cecil's footsteps were irregular.
She was barely supporting herself, leaning on me almost completely.
"Is it okay to drink this much?"
"Normally, I wouldn't... hic! It's because you're here that I drank this much."
"Seems like you really enjoyed yourself."
"Right. Let's come again next time!"
"Okay."
"Ah, but you know... there's something strange."
"You mean about Claridium?"
"No. About Hu—bert. Hic!"
"Why?"
"That guy, yawn, even though he's really a scoundrel... he sticks to his principles like his life depends on it."
"I didn't know he had that side to him."
"So... like not touching a friend's friend... or only touching one person from a group..."
"Mm-hmm."
"But... I heard that Hubert... this time, he got Stitch markers from two people in one group."
"..."
"It's really strange..."
"From what I remember, he was too drunk."
"Was he…? I don't think it was that bad."
"He's always like that, isn't he?"
"Hubert, that guy, he won't live long. You know why? Because the Imperial kids aren't pushovers either. There's a Sword Master's... granddaughter, and an archmage's disciple too... They're all formidable."
"And, hic! The Imperial kids are strange too. A guy who hit on my friend hits on me too? And they just watch and give him a marker...? Women hate that the most... It's strange."
"The Imperial kids have no loyalty."
"Ri… ght."
"I'm glad, yawn, that Damian is my partner."
Soldiers patrolling the main street see us and laugh, whistling.
"Why?"
"If my partner did that... I would break my principles and take action too."
"What kind of action?"
"To prevent him from running away... I'd cut his tendons. Like a magic... experiment subject."
She was becoming more and more incoherent.
"Are you okay?"
Cecil looked up at me with drowsy eyes. With no strength in her neck, her face swayed limply with each step.
"And, and, I'd take special measures. With my, my, hic! That thing."
"What thing?"
"Yawn, the thing I'm crazy about... dunno, sleepy..."
Cecil's eyelids started to droop more and more.