MTM 144

The rich aroma of freshly squeezed milk filled the room. One might have been tempted to marvel at the unique color and scent rarely seen elsewhere, but the expressions of Ser and Allen were stony. Their eyes followed Cynthia’s every move with a predatory gaze as she poured the milk with a steady hand.

Yet, there was not a trace of the “witch” from the rumors in the Cynthia standing before them. Just like her first impression, she was simply the epitome of a kind, warm-hearted middle-aged woman.

“Please, help yourselves. You absolutely must try this grape jam. If you spread a generous amount of our homemade grape jam and butter on bread, the flavor is simply divine. Oh, and if you like, dipping it in grape seed oil makes for a real treat.”

“You make oil from grape seeds?”

“Of course. Grapes are a clever treasure with not a single part to waste.”

In response to Allen’s question, Cynthia shrugged as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“So, does that mean wine… Aaargh!”

Before he could even finish his sentence, Ser stomped on Allen’s foot as he tried to sneak in a question about alcohol. Cynthia watched Allen writhing in pain and gave a meaningful smile.

“Carseon is a sacred land where alcohol is strictly forbidden. As someone who runs a farm with official permission, I wouldn’t risk the danger of secretly brewing wine.”

To anyone watching, it was the natural response expected of the owner of a farm under the protection of the temple.

Just as Allen rubbed his foot with tears welling in his eyes, Ren came in carrying a heavy basket filled to the brim with grapes. The plump, firm, and perfectly ripe grapes exuded a sweet, fragrant aroma, and their vibrant color was so beautiful it made one’s mouth water just looking at them.

“Oh, the grapes are so fresh, even in the middle of winter.”

Allen finally shifted his gaze to the grapes in the basket and exclaimed in admiration.

“That’s thanks to the land of Carseon being blessed. As you may have noticed on the way here, the climate here follows entirely different rules than the outside world. And since grapes naturally become sweeter the more they endure the cold, this year’s crop is exceptionally delicious.”

“That’s right. That’s why grapes from Alcadium in the north are famous for being the tastiest.”

Cynthia’s eyes sparkled upon hearing Ser’s calm reply.

“Ser, was it? So you’re from Alcadium?”

“…….”

Cynthia asked with a friendly expression, but Ser remained silent. He turned his gaze to his milk instead of answering.

As the conversation paused for a moment, Cynthia spread grape jam on her bread and asked softly.

“By the way… what brought you all the way out here?”

“I suppose you didn’t know that much.”

This time, Ser retorted.

“Ah… If you’re referring to what I said earlier, Ren let me in on it.”

In response to Cynthia’s confession, Ser and Allen’s gazes turned toward Ren simultaneously. But Ren himself was completely oblivious to their stares. He silently continued shelling grapes and spitting the seeds onto the floor.

There was no trace of the “Seeker” he had shown himself to be in Etheria. The man before them was nothing more than a lazy, indifferent farmer. It was impossible to tell whether he was putting on an act, as he had when he was a weapons peddler, or if this indolent demeanor was his true nature.

Ser’s patience finally ran out at his inscrutable attitude, and he murmured.

“There’s no point wasting any more time here. Let’s finish this quickly and leave.”

Ser snatched the crumpled map from Allen’s pocket and tossed it onto the table. Then, addressing Ren, he said,

“You knew all along that we’d come to Carseon even if we met you. You made it seems that it was a coincidence that Allen obtained this map, and you spread the false rumor that this woman is a witch to lure us here…“

At Ser’s accusation, Cynthia’s eyes widened, then she glanced at Ren with a strange smile.

“Hmm, I can’t speak for the rest… but having my very existence denied is hard to bear. Do you have any proof that I’m not a witch?”

“Proof? No matter how I look at it, you’re…”

Faced with Cynthia’s defiant stance, Ser became uncharacteristically flustered and couldn’t find the words to respond. Logically speaking, the very idea of a witch openly running a vineyard in the Holy Kingdom of Carseon was preposterous. But Cynthia retorted, seemingly mocking Ser’s thoughts.

“What if I received this farm as a reward for personally helping to seal the Demon King 300 years ago? And what if I’ve been filling Carseon’s granaries with these high-quality grapes ever since?”

“…Even so, there’s no way the temple would have let a witch accumulate wealth alone while holding her position for 300 years.”

As Ser countered, Cynthia smiled with an air of confidence.

“You only see one side of the story. No, you’re overlooking even more than that. For a witch who has accumulated her reputation for over 300 years, deceiving humans is easier than breathing. If I were to spread a false rumor in this village for just a single day, by the next day, I could make sure no one remembers the truth.”

“……!”

At this unexpected revelation, Ser and Allen froze in shock.

‘We were both far too complacent….’

They grew anxious upon realizing they weren’t dealing with an ordinary opponent. Ser and Allen didn’t exchange a word, but they were already calculating their escape route.

Gulp, gulp.

Just then, Ren, who had seemed completely oblivious to the group’s tension, suddenly began gulping down his milk.

Thud!

He set his cup down with a noise that sounded almost irritable before roughly wiping his mouth.

“That’s right. Cynthia is telling the truth. She spread the rumor and made sure you lot came here of your own accord.”

It turned out that everything had been part of Ren’s plan all along.

Allen regretted treating this as a casual drink and not bringing a proper weapon, while Ser regretted not informing the group inside the castle of their destination beforehand.

“…What’s the reason? Why did you make us come here on our own?”

Despite this, Ser forced himself to repress his tension and asked with a calm expression.

Instead of answering, Ren pulled an old piece of paper from his pocket and tossed it onto the table. Allen picked it up with trembling hands on Ser’s behalf and examined it.

“This is….”

It was none other than the very prophecy that had been sweeping across the continent.

“I am neither a weapons peddler, nor the Seeker, nor a leisurely farmer. I am the guardian of the 13th Oracle, Lior Albas. I am the prophet who sings of this age.”

***

Clunk.

“Phew….”

Zed placed the supplies he had retrieved on the table, and sighed. He hadn’t heard anything concrete yet regarding the requests he’d made to Edmund yesterday.

However, he’d heard there were relevant ancient texts at the Logos Grand Library in Carseon, so he planned to visit there sometime tomorrow.

“Before that, I suppose I should talk to Harto first….”

Once he arrived in Carseon, he planned to tell Harto everything, not only about the Fragments of the Demon God but also about the heart he possessed. He had already spoken to him about it and knew that this was the proper course of action. Yet, he couldn’t help but feel a weight in his heart. He feared that this truth might bring tears to Harto’s eyes.

Zed pulled the communication device from his pocket. Just as he was about to contact the two of them, a suspicious rustling sound came from the corner of the room.

“Sleepy?”

When he looked over, Sleepy was busily tearing something apart among Harto’s pile of luggage. It didn’t bode well. Zed grabbed Sleepy by the scruff of the neck and lifted him up, causing the tattered wad of paper in the creature’s mouth to drop to the floor.

“What were you chewing on so enthusiastically?”

Zed’s eyes narrowed as he picked up the paper from the floor and examined it. It was none other than a list of books related to Hartiros.

“This is… the list I asked Robert for.”

Judging by the fact that it was in with Harto’s belongings, Robert must have asked Harto to pass it on to Zed. Given Harto’s personality, he wouldn’t have hidden it on purpose. With everything being so chaotic, he must have simply forgotten to deliver it in time.

Zzzzt

Just then, the communication device in Zed’s hand emitted a static-like sound.

–Zed!

As soon as he activated it, Harto’s cheerful voice tickled his ears. Just hearing his voice made him smile.

“Harto? Where are you?”

–We’re sitting in front of the fountain in the central square right now. Ah, so this is…

“I think I know where that is. Stay right there and wait. I’ll be right out.”

–Okay!

Zed smiled in response to Harto’s cheerful reply. Thinking he needed to hurry out, he stuffed the note Sleepy had been nibbling on into his pocket for the time being.

“Ah.”

As he put on his coat and headed for the door, he turned back and approached Sleepy again. It was his way of showing consideration for the little guy left behind, as well as a precaution to keep him from chewing on anything he shouldn’t.

Zed took out some snack nuts and placed a generous amount in front of Sleepy, then tapped the tip of the rabbit’s nose with his finger.

“Don’t chew on anything strange. Just eat this and wait quietly.”

As if he understood the words, Sleepy quietly slipped inside Harto’s hood and began crunching on the almonds. Only then did Zed step outside the lodgings.