Chapter 12

Visitors from the Kingdom of Carbonihar

A few days later, Roberta was in the lord's manor.

She had returned to the city of Freiche with Ulrich and headed straight to the reception room. A large rectangular table was placed at the center, and she sat to Ulrich's left.

A servant entered and set a teacup filled with pine pollen tea in front of Ulrich. The servant asked, "For the priestess as well?" but she waved her hands vigorously.

"Ah, n-no. I'm fine."

It was a scent she could never get used to. Even with the lord drinking it beside her, just the smell alone made her frown. She glanced sideways at him.

He calmly sipped the pine pollen tea.

He showed no reaction at all—so much so that she wondered if his nose was blocked and his tongue paralyzed. Dumbfounded, she shivered slightly.

"You seem to be enjoying it."

"Does it look that way?"

Was it not?

She studied his expression again, thinking he might just be forcing himself to drink something unpleasant, but there was no change. He drank it as calmly and peacefully as if it were plain water.

'He's really an incomprehensible person.'

As she quietly observed him, the guests arrived.

There were six of them—five men and one woman. All six had light brown skin, and either their eyes or their hair bore a reddish hue.

Their attire was almost the same as when they had first arrived in the city. Only their breastplates had been removed. Their thick quilted clothing and the swords at their waists remained.

It was customary for guests to disarm when meeting a host, but Ulrich did not care. Anyone who came to see him was allowed in just as they were upon arrival.

"Hmm?"

One of the guests let out a sound.

He was a middle-aged man named Count Velido of Motrilda. With streaks of white scattered through his crimson hair, he looked to be well over fifty.

Roberta whispered the count's name to Ulrich. For a brief moment, his gaze sharpened as it stopped on them, then faded.

The count tilted his head, looking back and forth between Ulrich and Roberta. The others did the same. They had come after hearing that the lord was waiting in the reception room, but the people before them were just two young individuals.

'Did I make that same expression?'

Roberta suppressed a bitter smile.

She could clearly read the confusion on the count's face. They had surely heard that the lord of Dithmarschen was an elderly figure. Perhaps they had assumed he was a half-blood who had lived at least 300 years.

But looking at Ulrich—

Could one sense even the slightest trace of age from him?

The six had briefly seen Roberta on the day they arrived in Freiche, so they knew she was not the lord. Moreover, she was wearing priestly robes.

If the lord was in the room, then logically, it had to be him.

"You…?"

The count spoke.

"You are the Duke of Dithmarschen?"

"That's right. You've come to the right place."

"That is… quite different from what I heard."

He looked at Ulrich with an uneasy expression.

"I heard that the Duke of Dithmarschen was an old man who had lived for over 300 years."

"That's about how long I've been a lord. But I'm not an old man."

"They also say you have pointed ears because of fairy blood."

"A baseless rumor."

Ulrich dismissed it casually while sipping his tea.

"…You really are the Duke of Dithmarschen?"

The suspicion in the count's gaze remained.

"Please, sit."

Ulrich ignored it and gestured toward the chairs, but the count simply stared in silence. The deep furrow between his brows showed how strong his doubt was.

Watching this, Roberta stood up.

"Count, I assure you that this person is Lord Ulrich, the master of Dithmarschen. I serve Lady Ganymea, and that should lend credibility to my words."

She opened her right hand and gathered mana at its center. Soon, a blue symbol appeared on her bare palm. It was the seal that proved she was an official priest of the Pantheon.

Seeing this, the count let out a low murmur and stepped forward.

"I am Count Velido of Motrilda…"

After placing his right hand on his chest and hesitating briefly, he gave Ulrich a slight bow—so slight it barely felt like one.

Since a priest had vouched for him, he could not openly doubt it. But at the same time, it must have been difficult to accept that such a young man was an elder who had lived for centuries.

That feeling showed in his tone.

"I am a noble of the Kingdom of Carbonihar, and those behind me are my retainers and escorts for this journey. I apologize for my suspicion. As you can see, judging by appearances… it is impossible to guess your age."

His tone neither lowered himself nor particularly elevated the other. Considering Ulrich's age, title, and the fact that the count was a guest, it was an ambiguous attitude.

Roberta noticed this and glanced at Ulrich.

"It happens often."

He slightly raised the corner of his lips. Then he rested his right elbow on the armrest, propped his chin on his fist, and gestured with his other hand for them to sit.

The count sat directly across from the lord, with his retainers seated on either side.

"So, what brings you to seek me out? I heard a little on your way here, but I'd like to hear it directly from you. As far as I know, Carbonihar is a distant southern kingdom. Is it really worth coming all the way to this polar region?"

"If it weren't, would I have gone through all this trouble?"

The count gave a bitter smile.

"I am searching for a dragon. One named Narbakayani."

"Narbakayani, hm."

"Have you heard of it?"

Instead of answering, Ulrich tilted his chin, subtly urging him to continue. The count raised one eyebrow and spoke.

"It is a dragon with pure white, translucent scales. Its size is greater than the inner fortress here, it possesses six wings, and the end of its tail is sharp like a cluster of spikes. I have obtained information that it has made its nest in the Ice Peninsula. That is why I came—to enter the Ice Peninsula."

"I see."

"As you may already know, Duke of Dithmarschen…"

He cleared his throat and continued.

"That place is a demonic realm. A land filled with monsters created by evil gods. Even Emperor Tywin could not conquer it—a no-man's land. I am not so reckless as to boldly enter such a place with only six people."

"Would a guide make any difference?"

"At the very least, we wouldn't lose our way."

Ulrich let out a faint chuckle and lifted his chin from his fist.

"Then you've come to the right place. Just as you said—Narbakayani is on the peninsula. I don't know who told you, but you have remarkably good sources."

The count nodded in agreement. "Indeed, someone very well-informed."

It was the reaction of someone who had already been certain and was now merely receiving confirmation.

On the other hand, Roberta listened quietly, then narrowed her eyes.

Someone told him?

The question arose, but she was not the one speaking, and Ulrich did not ask. He simply gave a small nod and continued.

"However, that is not a place where guides go."

"They don't go? Why?"

"Because it's dangerous."

The count frowned.

"I am well aware of the danger! I intend to offer a reward worthy of the risk. If possible, I'm even considering hiring several people in addition to a guide."

"No, I did not make myself clear."

Ulrich shook his head.

"It would be more accurate to say that even if they wanted to go, they cannot. No matter how many men you bring, you cannot reach the place where Narbakayani resides. Just like Tywin."

The count flared up, about to say something, but shut his mouth. With a grim expression, he scratched the back of his neck and looked at his retainers. After exchanging silent glances, he turned back to Ulrich.

"The reason? Is it that dangerous?"

Ulrich tilted his teacup and took a sip.

Just then, a servant entered and placed pine pollen tea before the guests. They lifted their cups, but at the strong aroma, they recoiled with a startled sound and quickly set them down.

"You know why it's called the Ice Peninsula, don't you?"

"Because the dwarves and elves fought a massive battle there."

A bored gaze pierced toward Ulrich.

"It's said that because they recklessly unleashed mana, the region that became a battlefield—like the Ice Peninsula—ended up with tangled mana flows. It's written plainly in the scriptures. I've heard it enough times to be sick of it."

"And have you considered the result of that entanglement?"

"Well—"

Ulrich cut him off and answered himself.

"Mana is one of the elements that make up the world. If its flow becomes irregular, it causes changes beyond imagination. Dithmarschen having constant blizzards year-round is one such example."

"..."

"Yet life is wondrous. Even in environments humans cannot endure, there are beings that adapt and survive."

Ulrich called a servant and had a large tome placed on the table.

It was so massive that the servant had to carry it with both arms, struggling under its weight. Its width stretched from fingertips to elbow, and its height was only slightly shorter.

When the tome was opened like a map, it landed on the table with a heavy thud, sending dust scattering everywhere. The servant quickly wiped it clean and handed a pair of glasses to his master.

'Glasses?' Roberta tilted her head.

She had never heard that his eyesight was poor.

Ulrich took the glasses but paused for a moment.

It was the look of someone briefly lost in a sudden thought. The seemingly simple glasses had stirred something within him.

But it lasted only an instant. Only Roberta, who was closely observing him, could notice that faint rise of emotion. To the guests, it likely just seemed like a slight delay in his movements.

He placed the glasses on the bridge of his nose and opened the book.

From the very first page, a grotesque illustration appeared.

"This is…?"

The count asked, staring at it.

"A monster."

"No, that's not what I meant. Where did you get something like this?"

"I didn't obtain it. I made it myself."

He wrote it himself?

Roberta looked back and forth between the massive book and Ulrich. The pages were faded with age, but the illustrations were incredibly detailed—clearly the result of immense effort.

"As you can see, it contains a general overview of various monsters."

He pushed up the glasses on his nose with his index finger and slowly flipped through the pages.

"The ones I point out from time to time are those that inhabit the peninsula."

Then he added,

"The explanations are written at the bottom of each image, so read them at your leisure for reference. You won't truly grasp it until you experience it anyway."

After flipping through several pages, Ulrich's hand stopped.

There was a drawing of a flower.

Its head was round like a metal ball, resembling a poppy. At a glance, one might laugh and think, 'This is a monster?' However, in the lower right corner, a human figure was drawn.

The human, of average height, was far smaller—less than a tenth the size of the flower.

And that was not all. In small text at the bottom, it read:

"…It releases pollen that induces hallucinations. When prey approaches, it binds them with its stem and feeds them into a mouth disguised as fruit. The interior of the mouth is filled with acidic liquid, which dissolves and absorbs anything that enters."

"..."

No one spoke.

Ulrich turned two more pages.

This time, there was a drawing of a spider no larger than a human palm.

It looked like an ordinary house spider, just slightly enlarged. But after reading the description, Roberta frowned.

"…It pierces the target's skin with the reproductive organ at its rear and deposits eggs. If not removed immediately, it releases hundreds of eggs into the body. Within hours, the eggs hatch and consume the host from the inside, killing them."

The following pages were filled with monsters just as horrifying.

Roberta thought—and everyone present likely thought the same.

How could he possibly know about creatures like these, ones they had never even encountered before?

"You understand now, at least to some extent."

Ulrich closed the book and removed his glasses.

"This is what the Ice Peninsula is like. The mana flow became distorted due to past events, and flora and fauna influenced by it now live there. It is called a demonic realm for a reason."

"..."

"The areas guides can reach are only those where such dangers are relatively very, very low. And Count—the Narbakayani you seek lies beyond that."

Ulrich looked directly at the count.

"Do you still intend to go?"

The count could not answer. At first glance, he seemed to be groaning, furrowing his brow as he pondered. But Roberta saw it.

He was subtly glancing at someone else.

His gaze was directed toward one of his retainers.

"Stop borrowing someone else's voice."

There was no way Ulrich would fail to notice what she had.

Looking at the man seated beside the count, Ulrich spoke.

"A descendant of Banares."

The man did not immediately understand the meaning behind the words. So he sat still, pretending not to have heard—but suddenly his eyes widened, and he sprang up from his seat.

"W-what do you mean by that?"