Chapter 39

Night had fully fallen by the time Tasuku finally returned home. Upon being informed that Harold had arrived, he went to see him immediately. It was highly uncharacteristic for Harold to visit without a prior appointment; the lack of notice suggested a situation of significant gravity.

Since it was late and Harold was staying the night, he had already changed into a yukata.

“It has been a while, Harold-kun. What brings you here today?”

“I have something to tell you. It won't wait.”

Disliking idle chatter, Harold cut straight to the point without any preamble. Tasuku shifted his posture, giving the boy his full attention.

“I see. Let us hear it, then.”

“In about a week, I’ll be heading out on an expedition for the Knight Order. Our destination is the Bertis Forest.”

“That is quite a distance.”

The Bertis Forest was located near the border. A round trip alone would likely take a month. If only there were an airship landing site in that vicinity, the travel time could be significantly reduced.

“Still, this is your first mission. Surely there isn't much danger involved?”

“On the surface, it’s a mere reconnaissance mission. However, hostilities will likely break out with the Stella Clan.”

“What?!”

The words were spat out so nonchalantly that Tasuku couldn't help but exclaim in shock. If the Knight Order and the Stella Clan entered into combat, Harold was saying the situation could escalate into a full-scale ethnic conflict at worst. It would have been stranger not to be surprised by such a revelation.

“Is that true? How could such a thing happen…?”

“There’s a mole among the Kingdom’s upper echelons. That person intends to pull the strings and provide the spark to ignite a war.”

The details Harold recited so calmly were not easily believed. However, the person speaking was none other than Harold Stokes. Tasuku could not imagine him spouting groundless delusions.

“…For what purpose?”

“The objective is to capture the Stella Clan. There are risks of human experimentation and dissection; in any case, they won't face a pleasant end if they're caught.”

“That is an affront to humanity. I cannot overlook such an issue—provided the story is true, of course.”

Unless there was certainty, or at least substantial proof, Tasuku—and by extension, House Sumeragi—could not act. Given the scale of the situation and the parties involved, even a simple investigation would carry high risks. It might have been hypocritical to speak of humanity while weighing such options, but Tasuku had to consider the possibility of turning a blind eye if the risks were too great.

“If you’re asking for proof, don’t bother. There’s nothing physical.”

“Then how did you come across such classified information, Harold-kun?”

It was a natural question. Information of this nature was not supposed to be easily accessible. Harold had long possessed a mysterious information network; Tasuku wondered if he had relied on it again.

His hypothesis was on the mark.

“Do you know the name Giffelt?”

For a moment, Tasuku couldn't process what Harold had said. It wasn't because the name was unfamiliar. Quite the opposite—Giffelt was so famous that practically everyone had heard of him.

There is nothing in all creation that he does not know. He was a master information broker, extolled as a man capable of gathering any piece of intelligence. However, he was widely regarded as more of an occult myth than a real person.

“I have heard the rumors. A… fairy of sorts, who can obtain any information in the world for a suitable price.”

Harold looked down at that, shaking his head as if to say good grief.

“Are you an idiot? There’s no such thing as fairies. He’s certainly an eccentric, so I can see why they’d call him that, but he’s real.”

“Wait a moment, Harold-kun. Let me be clear… have you actually met the Giffelt?”

Giffelt was the stuff of urban legends, a name most people wouldn't mention with a straight face. Yet, “normal” logic didn't apply to the boy crossing his arms in front of Tasuku.

“Yeah. What of it?”

That’s impossible, Tasuku thought. Yet, another part of him was instantly convinced. It was the only way to explain Harold’s unnervingly vast reach. Judging by the boy's tone, they seemed somewhat well-acquainted. Harold possessed a truly incredible circle of connections.

“Whatever. That doesn't matter. Let’s get to the main point.”

Harold reset the conversation. With sensational information piling up one after another, Tasuku’s head throbbed at the realization that they hadn't even reached the core of the matter.

◇

When I brought up Giffelt’s name, Tasuku’s reaction was even bigger than I expected. And then he hit me with the "Giffelt is a fairy" theory. I barely managed to stifle a laugh.

The rumors circulating were pretty exaggerated, but those were actually spread by Giffelt himself. The truth revealed in the original game was that he staged the whole thing to build his own reputation.

“Information Broker Giffelt” was a character who appeared throughout the game to provide meta-explanations about mechanics, controls, and item hints, or to share side stories unrelated to the plot. He didn't offer much in the way of critical lore for clearing the game, but his selling point was his god-tier presence—he’d show up anywhere, from forests crawling with high-level monsters to remote islands, and even right before the final boss's inner sanctum. He was a mysterious, androgynous figure with a puffy flat cap whose real name, age, and gender were all unknown.

I’d never actually met him in this world, but apparently, Giffelt existed here too. Since I’d met him countless times in the game and understood his personality, I figured I could get away with a little bluffing. Besides, seeing Tasuku’s reaction, it looked like I could use Giffelt as a convenient excuse to dodge questions about my "future knowledge" from now on.

“Whether you believe me or not is irrelevant, but I’ll give you a chance to repay your debt.”

Time to start the negotiations. My tone was appallingly arrogant, but it had been long enough that neither Tasuku nor I felt any friction over it. That might be a problem in its own right, but moving the conversation forward was the priority.

“While I’m staying here… I need you to secure a military uniform from the Sarian Empire within three days.”

“The Empire? What on earth do you intend to do with that?”

“I’ll wear it under my armor during the expedition. Once the fighting starts, I’ll reveal myself in that gear to cause enough confusion to stall the battle.”

The plan was simple: if a Sarian soldier suddenly appeared in the middle of a clash between the Knight Order and the Stella Clan, both sides would hesitate, unsure of who the real enemy was. Using an Imperial uniform was blatant, but in the chaos of combat, something that obvious would be more effective.

“It is dangerous. At worst, you will become the target for both sides.”

I knew that. If possible, I wanted to stop the fight entirely—or better yet, stop the expedition itself. But the reality was that I had neither the time nor the political capital to pull that off.

“Don’t make me laugh. The attacks of those spineless weaklings won't even graze me.”

While my mouth spat out the usual overconfident garbage, I was actually terrified. But I couldn't back down. I knew that if I didn't show a stubborn, "I'll do it alone if I have to" attitude, I wouldn't get any help from Tasuku. He had a position to protect and couldn't move easily.

As a backup, I’d even considered framing it so it looked like I was blackmailing him into helping. But that was a last resort. I wanted to avoid leaving any long-term grudges with Tasuku or House Sumeragi if I could help it, so I kept that to myself for now.

“…Give me some time to gather my thoughts.”

Tasuku gave an ambiguous answer, his face clouded with worry. He likely saw through my intentions and gave that response because of it.

Well, an immediate 'yes' was never going to happen, I thought. Honestly, the fact that he didn't reject me outright just showed what a good guy he was. I didn't know if he was cut out to be a feudal lord, but as a person, he was incredibly likable. Erika probably inherited her kindness from him.

“I’m not holding my breath. Whether you decide to ignore me or come up with an alternative is up to you, but make sure that uniform is ready in time. If you do that, I’ll handle the rest.”

“I will see to the arrangements immediately. Though, in truth, I am not fond of the idea; it feels as though I am sending you to your death.”

“If you feel that way, then act in your own way—as long as you don't get in my path.”

“Honestly… you never stop, do you, Harold-kun? Your youthful drive is dazzling, but as a future son, it is also quite worrying.”

The harsh retort of What the hell is this old man blathering about? vanished the moment he said the word "son."

“…Have you lost your mind? We’re in the process of nullifying the engagement with Erika.”

“That letter was merely a proposal that such a thing could happen by mutual agreement, was it not? It is one option, but for my part, I intend to ultimately respect the wishes of the two people involved.”

That was unexpected. I’d assumed he was dead-set on the annulment for Erika’s sake. Well, if he respects Erika’s will, the engagement is going to get nuked anyway, so I guess it doesn't matter.

“That aside, isn't this the first time you've called Erika by her name since your first meeting? Even then, you were formal, calling her 'Erika-san.' As far as I know, I believe this is the first time you have called her properly.”

(Wait, really? There's no way... right?)

But now that he mentioned it, I realized I had no memory of calling Erika by her name to her face. I usually stuck to “you” or “this girl,” and when she wasn't around, she was just “her.” I occasionally called other people by their names, but for some reason, I’d completely avoided it with Erika. Maybe I was trying so hard to avoid her that it just became a habit.

Three years since we met. It was incredibly late to realize it, and honestly, pretty rude of me.

“What a trivial thing to notice…”

I kept my tone dismissive, but internally, I reconsidered. As a decent human being, I should probably at least call her by her name.

Whether I could actually bring myself to do it was a different story.