Chapter 15

Erika felt herself recoil under the weight of a gaze burning with such intense determination. She couldn't begin to fathom what Zen was truly thinking.

Driven by nothing but a raw, instinctive dread—a premonition that failing to follow him now would lead to a lifetime of regret—she finally relented.

"I understand. Where are we going?"

"This way."

Zen turned on his heel and led the way with a steady, purposeful gait. He stopped before a specific door—the place he had deemed most appropriate for unveiling the truth.

"We’re here!"

It was Harold's private bedchamber.

"...Huh?"

The sheer absurdity of the situation pulled a faint, bewildered squeak from her throat—a sound quite unlike anything the refined Erika Sumeragi had ever uttered. She was so utterly disoriented that she didn't even have the presence of mind to be embarrassed by it.

Based on the conversation so far, she had expected Zen to reveal the secrets Harold was hiding regarding the servants' deaths. Why on earth would he choose to do that inside the room of the very man keeping those secrets? Erika's mind whirled as she wondered if she had catastrophically misinterpreted their entire exchange.

But where? And how? Her thoughts were a tangled mess.

"Now then, inside you go."

"Wait—what? Ah—!"

Taking advantage of her dazed state, Zen gave her small back a firm shove, ushering her into the room. He had already confirmed Harold was out; there was no reason to hesitate.

Zen scanned the room, spotted a closet, and unceremoniously stuffed the reeling Erika inside.

"Forgive me! Just stay here for a bit!"

He shut the door and made for the exit.

"Wh-what is this...?" Erika whispered, her voice still sounding like a stranger's.

To lock away a guest of the house—his master’s fiancée, no less—was beyond mere insolence. Depending on the lord, a servant could be executed for such an affront and no one would bat an eye. Erika wasn't prone to such violent outbursts of temper, but common sense dictated she protest this treatment.

However, she had more pressing concerns. She needed to get out of this room immediately.

She was an intruder now, albeit an unwilling one. If she were caught, there was no telling what kind of verbal abuse Harold would rain down upon her.

The moment she reached for the closet door, the heartless sound of a latch clicking shut echoed through the room.

"Whoa!"

Then came Zen’s startled cry. It was only natural; the master of the room had returned at the exact moment Zen had tried to leave.

Harold’s voice followed, sharp with annoyance. "Quit that grating racket. More importantly, what are you doing in my room?"

"N-now, you see... well, the truth is, I had something to tell you, Lord Harold! But you didn't answer when I knocked, so I thought I'd just take a quick peek inside."

"If there’s no answer, you leave. Just how much of an idiot are you?"

Erika peered through the gaps in the closet blinds. Her window of escape had slammed shut.

If she stepped out now and explained herself, she might be able to salvage the situation. But what about Zen? Harold was the type of man who would kill someone on a whim. Even if this was Zen's own fault, she didn't want him to die for it.

But would Harold listen to her pleas for mercy? Given his track record, it seemed unlikely.

What should I do? Erika agonized, even as the situation spiraled further out of control.

"Anyway, about that thing I wanted to tell you!" Zen shouted, forcing the conversation forward.

Harold let out an exasperated sigh and sank into the sofa. To Erika's surprise, he actually allowed the man to continue.

"Fine. Get on with it. Be brief."

"Right. Well, it's a bit awkward, but... those rumors have spread quite a bit."

Zen didn't specify which rumors, but everyone present knew exactly what he meant.

"I went into town for supplies earlier, and at every shop I visited, the owners and the customers were all hounding me for details."

"..."

Harold crossed his arms and closed his eyes, listening in silence. Inside the closet, Erika held her breath, desperate to hear his response.

"I haven't said a word, of course. But since I haven't denied anything, your reputation is hitting rock bottom. I feel like we need to take some kind of countermeasure, or else..."

"I wondered what nonsense you were going to spout. My reputation has been dragged through the mud for years."

"But—"

"But what? Are you suggesting I go around announcing that Clara and Colette escaped to Brosche Village and are still alive?"

"Of course not! I wouldn't breathe a word of that if my life depended on it!"

...What?

Erika’s mind went blank.

What had Harold just said? The servant and her daughter... Clara and Colette... were alive?

And Zen had confirmed it?

The shock was even greater than the "confession" she had heard the previous night. Erika remained frozen, unable to move a single muscle, as she listened to the rest of the conversation.

"Then stop worrying about trivialities. If my parents even suspect they’re alive, the suspicion will fall on me. Eliminating that possibility is my top priority."

"I understand that, but couldn't you at least tell Lady Erika the truth? She’s been miserable ever since she heard those rumors."

"Absolutely not."

The rejection was absolute. If a voice could have a temperature, Harold’s would have been sub-zero. A chill ran down the spines of both Zen and the hidden Erika.

"...Why not?" Zen asked, his confusion finally getting the better of him.

Why was Harold so adamant about pushing Erika away?

It was because, in Harold's mind, Erika was perhaps the most dangerous person in this world.

Erika's defining trait was kindness—but it was an "excessive" kind of kindness. In the original story, Harold was a textbook elitist who thought he could do anything to anyone. He killed servants, oppressed the weak, and even burned down an entire town as a monster sacrifice just to save his own skin.

Yet despite those atrocities, Erika had been unable to truly abandon him, suffering through her engagement because of a sense of debt toward House Stokes. It was a classic, overly dramatic game scenario meant to pull at the player's heartstrings.

To the current Harold, that foolishly persistent kindness was a threat to his survival.

His goal was to live. To do that, he had to avoid Death Flags and ensure the game's story reached its conclusion. If the Last Boss wasn't defeated, the entire continent would sink, and Harold along with it.

Erika was the party's primary healer. Without her, the difficulty of the final battle would skyrocket. Therefore, for his own sake, Harold needed Erika to join the Protagonist's party.

Furthermore, he held a faint hope that clearing the game's story was the key to returning to his original world.

But what if Erika—who had stayed by the side of the original, monstrous Harold—saw that the current Harold was actually a decent person who was secretly helping House Sumeragi? She might double down on the engagement. If that happened, and she failed to join the Protagonist's party as a result, Harold’s entire plan would crumble.

To avoid Death Flags, he couldn't be a true villain. Therefore, he decided the safest path was to make sure Erika hated his guts. He didn't care about her affection; in fact, it was a liability.

Of course, explaining that would make him sound insane. So, he fabricated a different excuse.

After a long silence, Harold spoke again. "...That girl was crying."

"Huh?"

"Whether it was because I'm a murderer or out of pity for the people I supposedly killed, I don't care. Either way, she wept for others. She's a fool."

The memory of the previous night resurfaced—the single tear tracing a path down Erika’s cheek in the moonlight. It was a beautiful trait, but a troublesome one.

"She’s too kind. It’s the kindness of a weakling who can do nothing but pity others. If she tries to walk the same path as me, she’ll only end up with more scars than she can count."

"So... you're pushing her away for her own sake? Because you care about her...?"

"Don't be ridiculous. Why should I care about her? I simply refuse to marry a tedious woman who bursts into tears at the slightest provocation."

Harold’s words cut deep into Erika’s chest. It was a sharp pain, but entirely different from the one she had felt the night before.

Guilt, self-loathing, and regret flooded her.

"I see... but Lord Harold, do you really have no intention of marrying her?"

"None whatsoever."

"Then why the engagement in the first place?"

"To put it in terms even you can grasp: this engagement was bought."

House Stokes had craved the Sumeragi bloodline. They had swooped in when House Sumeragi’s forestry business—the backbone of their economy—was crippled by an unprecedented surge of miasma in the forests. While the kingdom and other lords hesitated to provide aid for such a high-risk recovery, House Stokes had stepped in to buy a massive favor.

Zen, realizing the implications, spoke up. "Wait, wouldn't breaking the engagement be a death blow for the Sumeragi, then?"

It was true. If Harold unilaterally broke the engagement, the financial support would vanish, and the Sumeragi territory would collapse. Not that Harold’s parents would ever allow him to break it anyway.

But Harold wasn't about to be a puppet.

"I've already handled it. That's what the antibodies and the LP Farming Method are for."

By using the medicine he'd developed, the Sumeragi could continue logging in areas where the miasma was thin. The miasma would eventually spread, but only as much as it did in the original game. He had already sent a letter to Tasuku outlining the predicted range of contamination so they could set up defensive lines.

On top of that, he planned to provide the technical know-how for the LP Farming Method. He hadn't worked out all the details yet, so he had phrased it vaguely in the letter as "industrial technology," but the intent was there.

Zen stared at him, dumbfounded. "You've been thinking that far ahead...?"

Zen was amazed. This boy was looking much further into the future than anyone could have imagined.

He wasn't the only one. Erika, hidden in the dark closet, was reeling from Harold’s foresight. He had anticipated the Sumeragi crisis before the engagement was even a topic of discussion—likely from the moment the miasma first appeared.

That explained how he could provide the formula for the medicine so quickly after the engagement was finalized.

It meant Harold had gone to incredible lengths to save a family he had no connection to. He claimed it was just to "buy a favor," but the cost and effort of developing such medicine far outweighed any profit.

As she realized the depth of his secret dedication, Erika’s vision blurred with tears.

For Harold, this had been a difficult gamble. He knew that by providing this much support, Erika would feel an even deeper debt of gratitude than in the original story. But he needed a patron. He couldn't move freely under his parents' thumbs.

He had decided to use his "fiancée" as a smokescreen to contact the Sumeragi. He knew from his game knowledge that Tasuku was a man of character he could trust. With Tasuku’s cooperation, supporting the Protagonists from the shadows would be much easier.

If the Sumeragi economy recovered through the antibody medicine and the LP Farming Method, they wouldn't need the Stokes' money anymore. Then, breaking the engagement wouldn't hurt them. He had even told Tasuku in the letter that the Sumeragi were free to initiate the annulment themselves.

It’s a royal flush of benevolence, Harold thought. I’m laying it on a bit thick, but as long as I don't ask for anything impossible, Tasuku should cooperate.

However, he had one last concern—one that involved Zen.

"By the way," Harold said, his voice dropping so low that Erika could barely hear it. "You should start thinking about your own future."

"What do you mean?"

"I’ve told you before: House Stokes is going to fall. If you don't want to be out on the street, you’d best prepare for the worst."

"But... isn't that why we're doing the LP Farming Method? To save the house?"

"As long as my parents continue their insane taxes and spending, all we're doing is buying time. I'm doing what I can, but there are no guarantees. I don't plan on looking after you lot when the ship sinks, so look out for yourselves."

Even the usually cheerful Zen was shaken. Harold spoke of the family's ruin as if it were an absolute certainty.

"If that happens... what will happen to the people living here?"

"Who knows. But I doubt Tasuku Sumeragi would let them suffer."

Erika’s heart jumped at the mention of her father’s name. Why Father...?

"I don't follow," Zen said.

"In my letter, I petitioned the Sumeragi to ensure the local citizens aren't treated unfairly if House Stokes collapses. Honestly, the fact that they're too fragile to survive without me holding their hands is laughable."

It wasn't that he wanted the Sumeragi to adopt the entire territory; he just hoped they could use their influence with the royal family to ensure a decent successor was appointed. He had piled on the favors specifically to make sure this "unreasonable request" was granted.

It'll probably go to some other noble. Let's just hope they're more sane than my parents, Harold thought. By the time that happened, he planned to be long gone anyway.

"Anyway, that's enough. If you break your oath of secrecy, I'll make you regret it."

"I-I know! I haven't told a soul...!"

Zen’s voice trembled. Harold didn't realize that Zen was trembling for a very different reason now, nor did he catch the specific nuance of "I haven't told anyone."

Of course, even if he had realized his "natural enemy" was currently inches away in his closet, it was already far too late.