—Their goal was power, or more precisely, the absolute power that can be achieved through transformation into a demigod! Those who pursue power without considering means and methods are easily caught in traps. I have played the role of a living trap! Where should I start the story? When I was in the southern region ten years ago...
Since then, he began to passionately recall personal stories for such a prolonged period of time that it wouldn't have been strange if my ears started bleeding.
"It doesn't seem like a lie at all."
Above all, Rue no longer seemed to care about Malcolm's identity. Naturally, the question of whether the two were remnants of Mephisto's army was resolved.
—Calepa, Calepa. Calepa.
After a final bow, the old man returned to the sofa and looked at me. He looked very flushed when he said:
—I thought I had forgotten this greeting because it had been more than 10 years since the last time I did it. It's a stroke of luck that my body remembers. Thanks once again for forgiving my poor education, Calepa.
Your Calepa is there, not here.
—Hehe, being able to meet you before I die. It seems this old man still has some luck left.
He's there.
—Calepa, if it's okay with you, can this humble old man ask you one thing?
This old man...
"Is it too much for him to talk to Rue face to face?"
Or maybe this was simply the way the people in Rogue communicated. I was too tired to point it out anymore, so I gave permission on Rue's behalf. (Of course, Rue hadn't made any sign that looked like he was giving permission.)
—Say it.
—Maybe... have you come here to retrieve Dian Cecht's relic?
Dian Cecht's relic.
Even before I had a chance to deliver the letter from the head maid, an important topic arose. I nodded in affirmation.
—If my guess is correct, I dare say you have come to the right place. Here in Westwinterre is kept the diary of Dian Cecht. If you need it, I will guide you there.
I knew where it was stored.
—The Jansen exhibition hall?
Malcolm, who had maintained modesty with Rue, lowered his head and looked at her with sudden coldness.
—No, the objects on display there are fake.
Keep your attitude consistent, old man.
—It's a deception to cloud the judgment of treasure hunters. Of course, in modern times, no one is fooled by something like that, but that was the purpose.
—And then what about the authentic one?
—The truth is... cough, cough... sorry, I'm no longer as young as I'd like. I haven't fainted in a long time, so I still don't feel very well.
—Grandpa, you can't say you're old in front of him.
No matter how old he was, he would always be 100 years younger than Rue. Malcolm scratched his head with an embarrassed face.
—You're not wrong. Lenya, go get the map.
Lenya, who was near the wall, approached hurriedly and asked.
—Oh, which map should I bring?
—If you open the ninth drawer of the seventh bookshelf, in the fourth position from the bottom, there should be a blue leather notebook. Bring the two maps stored in it.
—Yes. Please wait.
Lenya quickly left the room and went up the stairs to the second floor. There were seven bookshelves and each had nine drawers.
"Is he a map collector?"
What kind of map was it? Shortly after, Lenya came down the stairs with old pieces of paper in her hands and handed them to Malcolm. When he opened the folded paper, a complicated design was revealed that hurt my eyes. It didn't look like a map of an outdoor place.
—Hmm —Malcolm, who meticulously examined the map from a distance, folded the paper with a satisfied expression and handed it to me—. It seems intact. Take it, take it. With this map you should be able to find the diary of Dian Cecht.
—What kind of map is it?
—It's the blueprint of the Treasury Vault of the Penrotta Imperial Family.
What? Malcolm quickly opened the second map, not giving me time to even make a look of surprise. The second was a topographical map of the Penrotta Empire, marked with a total of three circles.
—The royal vault is distributed and hidden in a total of three places: underground in the capital, Ragel, in the wetlands near Lake Iregiel, and here, in the willow forests of Westwinterre.
Wait, I think we're moving too fast?
—Are you telling us to sneak into the royal treasury and steal Dian Cecht's relic?
Malcolm answered casually, not caring if I was bewildered or not.
—Among them, it is said that the Willow Vault is full of extremely dangerous magical artifacts. Considering that, it is clear that Ragel must have chosen to hide them here instead of the palace. And who else but the Berkley-Gratten family is protecting it directly! Of course, their supposed impressive sword master is nothing more than a mere insect before our Calepa. Haha, haha... Cough, cough.
Was the Berkley-Grattens' castle near here? It certainly wasn't a common vault if the sword master's knights guarded it personally.
—Now! Look closely at the map and enter tonight to find Dian Cecht's relic!
Malcolm touched my shoulder with his weak hand.
"I'm sure I came here to run an errand as a servant."
Somehow I ended up with the blueprint of the royal treasury and its security system.
"The life of a maid is something very special."
I opened the plan and checked it. It was so complicated that my eyes itched just looking at it. Fortunately, it seemed that Dian Cecht's diary wasn't very hidden in it.
"But is it okay for him to give this to Rue so easily?"
I could see that the Rogue followers became blind with devotion when something concerned their Calepa. But didn't the treasure belong to the Imperial Court of Penrotta?
—Grandpa, stealing imperial property is a major crime. If we sneak into the vault and get caught, they'll take you as an accomplice. Is that okay with you?
Malcolm rebuked me with an indignant expression.
—Stealing? That's ridiculous! This is not stealing. You, er, your name is...
—Daisy.
—Yes, Miss Daisy. Is Miss Daisy a senyot?
Senyot? I had heard that word before.
—It's been a long time since I've seen you, Calepa. I heard you kicked out the senyots, so I've come in their place.
Ah, I see. The people dressed in white on the airship were called senyots. Was I one of those perverted fools?
—No, I'm not.
—No? Then who? Yette? Hm. You don't look like a Yette.
From what I heard, it seemed like it was another position. I'm sorry, but I was neither a Senyot nor a Yette.
—I am a servant.
—Well, that's evident from your appearance.
—I'm just a maid. I'm not a supporter of Rogue.
—What?
Malcolm, forgetting that he had fainted, shouted in disbelief. He didn't seem convinced at all.
—Are you saying you're not a member of Rogue even though you are Calepa's concubine? How...?
Concubine? It was such a sudden and absurd use of the word that for a moment I thought I had misheard.
"Concubine."
I couldn't believe it. I immediately asked Rue.
—Mr. Rue, are you a playboy?
—Ha! —Malcolm stared at me, unable to speak—. No, asking that to the Calepa... —he muttered in a low voice, as if he had heard something blasphemous.
A slight smile appeared on Rue's lips, three times deeper than usual.
—Ha —his eyes conveyed the same message in response. Then, his expression immediately became expressionless and he asked in a casual tone.
—Are you jealous, by any chance?
—Are you?
—No.
The denial calmed my chaotic mind. Well, even if he were a playboy, I couldn't tell people what to do in their private lives. Anyway, now I felt much better.
—No, grandpa. Don't make a decent person look like a playboy based on a misunderstanding. Of course, as we grow older, our thoughts become a bit narrower and our prejudices deepen. But Rue and I are just coworkers. We don't have a romantic relationship.
—...coworkers.
Rue whistled softly while Malcolm was on the verge of collapsing again due to some kind of culture shock.
—I thought our Miss Daisy's intelligence would decrease if she returned to her original form. But look how logical you can be.
I ignored it. While Malcolm continued breathing slowly and deeply, he closed his eyes tightly and apologized.
—Uf, I'm sorry. I never expected to hear the shocking answer that you and Calepa were... coworkers... I, I...! Oops.
—Master!
And he collapsed. Again. He collapsed again. Lenya, who had come running in surprise, blinked and checked Malcolm's status. I guessed he wasn't dead by the way she sighed in relief.
—I-I'm sorry. It seems the master has suffered a great shock. We can't be sure when he will open his eyes... I-if it's okay, can I guide you to the bedroom...?
Where did he get so much energy to get so scared?
—I guess there's no point in trying to wake him up by force this time.
A maid knew better the heart of another maid. I obeyed Lenya's suggestion without much thought.