Chapter 13

Visitors from the Kingdom of Carbonihar

The man's voice trembled violently.

The shock written across his face was so unmistakable that anyone could tell Ulrich had struck the mark.

Roberta did not know who Banares was, but she was certain of one thing—that the man had been hiding his identity and using Count Velido as a proxy.

The man opened his mouth as if to make an excuse, but soon realized it was pointless and let out a deep sigh.

"No one has recognized me until now… I never expected to be exposed at the very end. Very well. I am a descendant of King Banares—the Duke of Tolemanca, Vailen."

Duke Vailen asked in a tone of disbelief,

"How in the world did you know?"

"You resemble Banares."

"Resemble him?"

Ulrich once again rested his arm on the armrest and propped his chin on his fist as he looked at Vailen. To Roberta, it seemed as though he was comparing him to someone in his memory.

"Or perhaps… not so much, now that I think about it."

As he muttered to himself, Vailen frowned. Even after revealing himself as a member of the royal family, Ulrich's unchanged attitude must have irritated him.

"What do you mean by resemblance?"

He raised his voice and asked again.

"How do you know what Banares looked like?"

"I've seen him in Carbonihar."

"You've seen him?"

Vailen let out a hollow laugh, as if it were absurd.

"I heard you are just over 300 years old. To have met him, you would have had to be born several centuries earlier than that—so how could you have seen him?"

"I stayed there for a while."

Ulrich lifted his chin from his fist and continued.

"Back then, I wasn't Ulrich of Dithmarschen—I had a different name. And I didn't stay long like I do here. I stayed briefly, several times. That's when I met Banares."

"You met him? You mean face-to-face?"

"Yes, directly."

Roberta heard someone among the guests mutter under their breath that it was nonsense. They wore expressions of clear displeasure, as if listening to absurdity.

But Vailen was different.

Roberta saw his expression change. The one who should have been the most offended instead erased his expression and lowered his voice.

"At that time… did you use your current name?"

"No, I used another."

"Then what name did you use? When you met him, I mean."

Roberta leaned in slightly, listening closely.

Another name of the lord? It might be something she knew—or even if not, it might offer a clue. She had a feeling that the man she knew would not have lived an ordinary life under any name.

"My memory is a bit hazy. As you know, it was a very long time ago. Besides, I had to change my name frequently back then. I used several names even in front of Banares."

At the word "several," Vailen quickly pressed,

"It doesn't matter. Tell me whatever you remember."

Ulrich narrowed his eyes and tapped his temple lightly with his index and middle fingers. After a long moment, he began listing names one by one.

Garian, Ranier, Stein, Lyuse…

Roberta tried to compare them with her own memories, searching for any connection, but none of them felt even remotely familiar.

But Vailen was different.

As the names continued, he swallowed hard. It was as if something was rising from within him, striking him—his eyes gradually widening.

The face that had first shown confusion, then suspicion, was now overwritten with shock.

"…After that, I combined Rosen of Rosenburg and Stein of Braustein to create the name Rosenstein. I thought it was quite a good name, but those two regions didn't get along very well. So I had to change it quickly. And the next one should be the last."

"..."

"As I recall, the name I used when I met that child, Banares—chronologically, this is the last one. It was a name I used while briefly serving under a certain regional noble—"

And just as Ulrich reached the end,

"Laurent."

The name was spoken first—by Vailen.

Ulrich paused for a moment and looked at him.

"Yes. And like the elves, I added a title before the surname. So the full name was Laurent de Villeneuve. I used it while briefly serving under a noble of the Villeneuve region."

A pale face stared at Ulrich.

"You… were Laurent."

His voice trembled.

"I thought it was coincidence… just getting a few names right…"

"For coincidence, you matched far too many, didn't you?"

"That's true… no—"

Vailen corrected himself.

"…Indeed."

"Did Banares tell you?"

"Yes. He was my grandfather."

"Grandfather?"

Vailen's tone had completely changed.

"I see. Now everything makes sense."

Ulrich murmured this and gestured for him to continue.

"He said you had many names. So when he told me about you, he began by teaching me those names—the very ones you just listed."

"It couldn't be helped at the time," Ulrich said.

"I couldn't stay in one place for long—I had to keep moving. So I had no choice but to change my name each time. Rather, it was fortunate that I met that child, Banares, several times."

"At the time, I thought it sounded somewhat fantastical… but in the end, his words were true. He said that someone who has lived a long time will inevitably meet another who has lived just as long."

"It seems you heard a lot about me."

"Yes… I heard a great deal."

"A great deal," Vailen repeated under his breath.

"Did Banares leave any words?"

"He left an object. He said words can change."

"I see."

Vailen looked at Laurent—no, Ulrich—as he lifted his teacup.

"What kind of relationship did you have with him?"

"Relationship?"

Ulrich answered casually.

"I looked after him for a while. Just for a short time."

Ulrich was about to continue speaking, but seeing how serious Vailen's expression had become, he let out a wry smile. His eyes were sharp, as if he were listening to some deeply personal secret.

"It's not the kind of relationship you're thinking of. I'm not someone who wanders about without principle. If that were the case, Banares would have said as much."

"And besides, it would have been awkward for both of us," he added.

"…I see."

"Did you think I might be your great-grandfather or something?"

"I can't say the thought never crossed my mind."

Ulrich chuckled.

"Then… how should I address you?"

"As I am now, I am Ulrich of Dithmarschen."

Vailen nodded.

The six guests returned to their seats. An awkward silence lingered for a moment, and the conversation paused. But soon, after letting out a short breath, Vailen brought up the reason they had come—the very topic that had started everything.

"There's nothing more for me to reveal, is there?"

"Didn't you already say that Banares is your grandfather?"

Listening to their exchange, Roberta furrowed her brow.

Vailen had stated it himself—Banares was a man who lived several centuries before Ulrich became the lord of Dithmarschen. If he was his grandfather, then just how old was Vailen?

A human who could live that long… no, a human who claimed to be living that long—she had only ever seen one until now.

And now there were two?

"A human with dragon's blood… it's been a long time."

But the other one was not human.

Only after hearing Ulrich's mutter did she realize it.

"What do you intend to do when you meet Narbakayani?"

"I'm not sure. For now, I'd like to speak with him."

Speak? Roberta tilted her head. For something that required braving the dangers of the Ice Peninsula, it seemed like a modest goal. Vailen glanced at her and said,

"It's only natural you wouldn't understand."

Then, looking at Ulrich, he asked, "Isn't that right?"

"It seems you didn't leave behind a family."

"I had several wives… but you know how it is."

"I see."

Ulrich lifted his teacup again. As he gently stirred it, he explained for Roberta, who couldn't follow their exchange.

"Roberta. A half-elf is called a Galua, and a half-dwarf is called a Manium. There are various terms for mixed bloods. Then do you know what the offspring of a human and a dragon are called?"

Roberta shook her head.

"There's such a term?"

"I don't know either. It probably never existed in the first place."

It never existed?

"What do you mean?"

"A term for a group can only exist if there is a group. But dragons do not form groups, and their offspring cannot form groups either."

Just as she was about to ask why, Vailen answered first.

"Because we are like mules."

He smiled—a bitter smile.

"Priestess, mules cannot have offspring. We—no, I—remain as individuals, even if we wish to form a group. As if it were a punishment for a proud species that chose its own destruction, the same fate is given to its descendants."

He continued, saying humans were truly strange creatures.

"A creature that wishes to stand above all and enjoy everything alone, yet at the same time becomes bound to others. And strangely, we are also bound by bloodlines. Even if laws define others as family, the heart still asks—are they truly of my blood?"

Vailen tilted his teacup.

His face twisted for a moment, but Roberta did not think it was because of the pine pollen tea. Even as he grimaced, he wore a faint, crooked smile.

"And yet, I am a mule. My mother turned to dust hundreds of years ago. Her siblings, and even the relatives who were once close, have now become more distant than strangers."

He looked at Ulrich.

"You understand what I mean, don't you?"

Ulrich did not answer. He simply raised his teacup.

"Some might envy the blood that flows in me. Galua and Manium struggle to live past 300 years, but I am destined for a lifespan comparable to that of elves. But what use is that? There is nothing I can leave behind in this world."

"There are things other than blood that can be left behind."

"Perhaps."

He smiled at Ulrich.

"Perhaps that is why someone like you still remains."

"Vailen."

"But I am different. I am not as strong as you."

"And if you meet him? Do you think that will resolve those feelings of yours? You're mistaken. You are human. Dragons are not a species that forms bonds—how do you think one would treat a human who isn't even its kin?"

The two met each other's gaze in silence.

It was Ulrich who finally broke it.

"I see."

Roberta looked at the lord in surprise.

"So you intend to become half of what you are."

His brow furrowed slightly. It was not an obvious expression—just a faint crease that most would overlook.

But she had never seen even that much from him before.

"I thought you might already know."

Vailen leaned forward in his seat, placing his hands together respectfully as he spoke to Ulrich.

"That is why I seek Narbakayani—my father. I have never seen him even once, but he remembers my mother, and his blood flows within me."

"..."

"Ulrich—or rather, Laurent. Will you help me? Just as you helped my grandfather… please grant me your mercy. If the stories I've heard are true, what could possibly be beyond your ability?"

Ulrich leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

"Roberta. Have you grown accustomed to the cold?"

"Yes. To some extent."

"Then it won't be easy."

The meaning was clear. The lord was asking her—he would act as their guide, so would she go with him?

"..."

She turned her gaze toward the window of the reception room.

It was not yet noon. In the distance beyond the window, she could see a massive mountain shrouded in gloomy clouds. Even from this far away, it was visible—the range that cut across the Ice Peninsula: the Caldorekai Mountains.

If she went with him, she would have to cross that.

Could she cross it? And after that?

The monsters Ulrich had shown them would be waiting.

To be honest, she did not want to go. It was not a duty of a priest, and it was far too dangerous.

Yet she answered Ulrich—she would go.

Why had she done that? Even she could not say for certain. Being around that strange lord sometimes made her act unlike herself. And unfortunately, that moment was now.

"Go to Bernhardt and tell him to prepare. You'll need to dress warmly—it's truly a cold place."

Ulrich stood up, immediately called for a servant, and ordered preparations for the journey.

Roberta turned and followed him, leaving the reception room.