Reinhard remains silent for a moment, confirming a suspicion: he can read my mind or, at the very least, comprehend certain things without the need for words.
"Do you already know? What do I know about you?" he cautiously inquires, awaiting my response.
Reinhard nods slowly, confirming his ability to access others' thoughts. This implies that he knows everything about my past and present actions, as well as my future plans.
No, his question clearly indicates that he doesn't have a complete grasp of my memories, suggesting that his divine blessing may not be as powerful as I thought.
"I can see the most vivid images in your mind; it's a divine protection bestowed upon me," Reinhard calmly explains.
The most vivid images... At this moment, I know which image dominates my mind: the moment I killed Beatrice. There's no doubt about it. This means that Reinhard is also aware of the phenomenon of return by death.
I quickly decide to change the course of the conversation before delving further into dangerous territory.
"Let's not talk about that anymore; some things are better left unmentioned," I suggest firmly, aiming to avoid any unnecessary conflict between us. "I trust that you'll keep this secret."
In reality, it doesn't matter that much. After all, it's not as if Reinhard can avoid knowing my thoughts and actions, I suppose. Although I'm not sure if he does it intentionally.
"I see that it doesn't bother you," Reinhard comments with curiosity.
If this were with anyone else, I might feel uncomfortable and invaded in my mental privacy. However, since he will only reveal things that emotionally affect me the most, I can accept it without any issue if it's coming from him.
I trust that Reinhard won't use this information against me unless I do something to harm him, or perhaps... who knows, maybe he has a negative opinion of me.
"If you were doing it on purpose, it would bother me," I assert seriously, making my boundaries clear.
Reinhard shakes his head in response to my concern.
"I can activate that ability at will, but the protection activates automatically under certain conditions," he explains seriously.
"When do people most want to talk about it? Vent or show dangerous things?" I ask with curiosity.
Reinhard reflects for a moment before responding:
"It depends on each person, but generally yes. Also, I can see random thoughts. Even as I walk, I can identify malicious thoughts or those seeking help. This allows me to know when someone needs assistance or when there's a dangerous situation unfolding," he adds reflectively.
Well, at least I know he uses this ability to detect potential threats. In that case, I suppose I was the subject of his observation to figure out what was happening earlier.
I just hope he doesn't do it right now during our conversation...
Trying to downplay the matter and avoid any unnecessary discomfort between us, I comment, "It's useful then; it allows you to help others, even if it might be a bit uncomfortable. However, there's no need to worry about that right now."
Observing how Reinhard has been kind and generous during our encounter so far, I decide to express it sincerely, "I'll cover the expenses today. If you want to return the favor, you can do it next time we go out to eat together. This way, you can join us again without any worries."
I aim to alleviate any additional burden Reinhard might be carrying in his heart and show my gratitude for his company and support so far. Reinhard smiles, clearly understanding my intentions.
"Yes, my friend," he responds with gratitude and camaraderie.
Carrying Emilia in my arms, we leave the place. It seems that the Astrea mansion is in a different direction from ours. I'm surprised to realize that not all noble locations are concentrated in a single sector, as I had imagined.
Meanwhile, Reinhard holds Felt tenderly in his arms, who peacefully rests on his chest, a serene smile on her face as she sleeps. "If she happens to wake up, she'll be in for a big surprise," I comment to Reinhard with calm and fondness towards Felt.
My gaze meets Reinhard's as he reflects on my words. "I could say the same... If Miss Emilia wakes up, she'll undoubtedly be amazed by everything that's happening," Reinhard affirms quietly.
However, I can't help but worry about the potential scenario if Emilia were to get startled and accidentally strike me. In that case, my life would be seriously threatened.
As we prepare to part ways temporarily, I feel the need to express some final words before letting him go. "I don't know what it's like to feel as strong as you; I probably will never fully understand it," I stare at his back, speaking from the heart. "Being the strongest, the one everyone trusts and expects to overcome any obstacle, the one who never shows weakness or sadness..."
I pause, letting my words hang in the air before continuing, "But for me, that doesn't matter. I don't care about your strength or abilities, Reinhard. What I truly value is your immense heart." My gaze shifts to Emilia, who also possesses a noble and generous heart.
I know from my own experience that people with big hearts are often the most affected by life's challenges and emotional wounds. It's inevitable when you give so much love and compassion to the world. With these sincere words lingering between us, we prepare to go our separate ways temporarily.
"For me, you're a human being just like anyone else," I say firmly. "No matter what others tell you or how you see yourself, if you ever feel lonely, want some company, need to talk about your problems, or seek advice, don't hesitate to ask me."
The loneliness Reinhard must bear is undoubtedly overwhelming. Witnessing the weight of his external strength and power makes me reflect on the mental and emotional burden he also carries.
"We're friends after all," I add with conviction. "Among friends, status doesn't matter; so, no matter how physically strong you are, you can always turn to me for help."
Being physically strong is a completely different thing from being mentally strong. Trying to imagine myself in his shoes becomes an impossible task for my mind limited by my own strength. However, even though it may seem insignificant from my earthly perspective while he resides at the pinnacle, I can offer my support from down here.
"Thank you... Marco," Reinhard responds with genuine gratitude. "I appreciate your words, and I know I can count on you."
Reinhard continues his path, holding Felt in his arms as we head towards Roswaal's majestic mansion. There's an atmosphere of joy and relief in the air. Beatrice seems content, and my soldiers are also filled with jubilation.
After all the stress during the selection and the challenges faced, a break is more than deserved. It has been a long time since I've had a proper one; one without looming problems or worries. Today, I feel that the capital of Lugunica is wrapped in an almost supernatural tranquility, surpassing even my native Irlam.
A fleeting thought crosses my mind: perhaps I should have taken the protagonist's path to avoid so many difficulties and overwhelming responsibilities. But I immediately vehemently reject that absurd idea. If the secret list had inevitably been leaked, without a means to protect myself, it would have sealed my fate before even starting.
Roswaal would never allow it. His presence is always a guiding light, and despite my reluctance, our objectives are somehow aligned. However, I don't want to continue being controlled by him.
Roswaal must die, by any means necessary.
It's foolish to keep him alive, but unfortunately, it's necessary at this moment. He won't abandon his goal, even if I destroy the Book of Wisdom. He must have plans to follow to achieve his objective.
It's foolish to think that a psychopath will redeem himself after so many years of committing atrocities against his own generation.
It's too foolish.
The veil of night has already spread, but some bars continue to be lit up and resonate with lively music. I can't help but think about how challenging it must be for those who live near these noisy places.
Nevertheless, my determination remains intact: I hope to transform Irlam into a prosperous and harmonious city.
Amid the festive atmosphere, Beatrice discreetly grabs the edge of my jacket and looks me directly in the eyes. Her silent gestures seem to convey a hidden message.
Subtly, I observe my surroundings, quickly noticing something amiss. I stop abruptly, and an uneasy feeling takes hold of me. I swiftly approach Lucas to temporarily hand Emilia over.
There's a code for every situation, and now, I must act accordingly.
"I need to urgently use the bathroom," I hastily tell him. "Please, hold her for a moment in the meantime."
I carefully hand Emilia over and request the company of two soldiers to accompany me to the bathroom. With Beatrice with Lucas, I'm confident that no one would dare to attack them in her protective presence.
Lessed faithfully follows me as we venture into a dark alley. Right there, I start using water magic with a subtle movement of my index finger, pretending to urinate against the nearby wall.
"I drank too many beers," I casually say, trying to dispel any suspicion about our true intentions.
Lessed remains distracted, apparently unaware of any lurking danger, while I continue with my performance. However, in a fleeting moment that escapes my perception, I sense a threatening presence silently approaching from behind.
I react quickly and grab the rifle just as they try to snatch it away. My sharp reflexes allow me to reaffirm control over the situation.
At that precise moment, I invoke wind magic with a piercing shout:
"Fura!"
The unknown figure is violently sent flying by my magic. Although I managed to avoid being completely disarmed, I feel a knife lightly grazing my cheek before I can fully dodge it.
I quickly aim the rifle at the person holding Lessed by the neck and sternly demand, "Drop the weapons. No matter how strong you think you are, your boldness won't make your magic reach me in time." My voice resonates with determination, attempting to intimidate.
However, amid the tension that has taken over the atmosphere, I'm fully aware that I have no immediate magic to counter the attack. Following the established protocol, all I can do is wait and trust that our words will be enough to distract the adversary.
The atmosphere becomes charged with palpable energy as we anxiously await whether we can avoid a direct confrontation or if we'll be forced to fight without quarter.
In that crucial moment, my hands slide slowly inside my jacket, taking advantage of the limited visibility to go unnoticed by the others present.
"I'll hand it over," I say with a trembling but determined voice. "But promise me you won't harm him or any of us. You can take your companion unharmed."
The man maintains his tight grip on Lessed, while the other seems to have fallen unconscious after the initial impact. I now understand their goal: the rifles.
The origin of these attackers begins to unfold before me.
Quickly and stealthily, I open my personal communicator and establish an immediate connection with Lucas. He follows the previously agreed-upon instructions and remains in absolute silence on the other end of the telepathic line.
"Release the man," I declare with a nervously brave tone. "Take the weapon and leave peacefully before this end badly for all of us."
I maintain a determined posture while impatiently awaiting any response from the attacker. The fate of this delicate situation hangs by a thread, but I know all that's left is to wait—just wait for the right moment.
One of the hooded figures, confident and arrogant, approaches slowly, their laughter echoing in the air. It seems they already know the extent of my abilities, at least estimated from what they witnessed in the coliseum or what they were informed.
I could approach and kill the one holding Lessed, but I'm aware there's a slight delay between the execution of the spell and the manifestation of the wind.
But it doesn't matter. I know these thieves are doomed from the moment they set foot in this shadowy alley. Death stalks their steps without mercy or hesitation.
The hoods conceal their faces completely, preventing me from seeing beyond their challenging gaze. Just as one of them is about to take possession of the weapon I would hand over as part of the deal...
Bang!
Two shots break the tension in the air, coming from the entrance of the dark alley. The man holding Lessed as a hostage falls to the ground along with his accomplice in front of me. From my position, I can clearly see Bert standing majestically outside the alley, the one who made those two perfectly accurate shots. Arne quickly enters behind him, while I illuminate our surroundings with a magical fireball.
Amid the momentary chaos, I take the opportunity to clean an insignificant stain on my cheek; I don't want to dirty my military uniform. Then, I crouch down beside the lifeless body and boldly remove the mask of one of the perpetrators.
The unfamiliar face before my eyes sparks my curiosity, and I intensify my investigation by also removing his jacket in search of any clues that might reveal his identity. However, I find nothing more to deepen the mystery surrounding these individuals.
I can only conceive one possibility to explain how they knew of our presence here. The restaurant owner must have alerted someone, but overcoming the defensive barrier that is Reinhard... that seems impossible.
There's no way to bypass his protections without him noticing.
As I examine the now lifeless body in front of me, I notice that his build is slender and unkempt. These men seem to be mere hired thieves tasked with carrying out this deadly intrusion. A warning?
The words resonate in my mind as I contemplate the possible motivation behind this sudden and inexplicable attack.
Is there a message behind this attack? Only time and our own investigations will unveil the hidden truth behind this nighttime ambush. I don't believe these thieves were foolish enough to attempt something so reckless. Lessed also conducted a thorough search, but he shakes his head in denial, indicating that he hasn't found anything relevant.
Fortunately, we have a hostage in this critical moment. Addressing Lessed with authority, I instruct him to carry the unconscious individual while I watch Arne gather the two nearby corpses.
Arne's meticulous work in the cleanup committee is crucial for this covert operation; it's one of the reasons I chose to have him, in addition to his deep sense of duty. He will be our cover and the person responsible for hiding the deadly traces left by these perpetrators.
"Wait a moment, soldier," I indicate, pointing towards the lifeless bodies using the skilled and controlled use of my magic. I utter a word, "Goa."
Instantly, a fiery blaze heads directly towards the inert corpses, and upon touching them, it begins to consume their bodies until they are unrecognizable. After intense minutes, only their charred bodies and clothing remain; every trace of their identification has been erased, leaving no way to blame us.
Arne quickly employs his magical ability to create a hole in the ground using earth magic and instantly displaces the stones, forming a perfect pit. Together, we toss the corpses into the newly made grave.
However, as a precaution and to prevent any future identification, I ask Arne to destroy their skulls with a rock. Without hesitation, Arne complies with my request and proceeds to shatter the charred skulls into unrecognizable fragments.
Even though they are already burnt, this additional action will ensure that no evidence can be recovered or linked to these nefarious individuals in the near future.
Blood accumulates in that gloomy hole, but with skill and swiftness, Arne replaces it with earth magic, concealing the crime scene.
The reason for this attack was the theft of our valuable weapons; however, underestimating us to such an extent is a true affront that disturbs me more than the mere attempt to snatch the rifles.
Nevertheless, if they had succeeded in taking the weapons, their greed would have been their downfall. The bullets would now be embedded in the solid rear wall, silent witnesses to the destructive power contained within them.
With a steady stride, I approach to retrieve those projectiles. The tiny holes left in the walls are indelible traces of the deafening roar and the potency that the bullets are capable of. Aware that leaving any detail that could cause us trouble is dangerous, I ask Arne to meticulously cover each of those small gaps with earth magic to erase any lingering evidence.
Even if they were to discover the disfigured corpses left to their sad fate, they would find no direct connection to us as their heads have been shattered, while we collected the compromising bullets and casings.
"Let's go quickly," I warn of the imminent danger. "We don't know if the knights will be patrolling for intruders or if they allow themselves the luxury of committing such atrocities."
It's lamentable to think how Reinhard and Julius, with their unwavering faith in their roles as guardians, have fallen victim to this illusion. Even Gildark has succumbed to this deception. But now is not the time for melancholic reflections on human frailty in the face of the corrupting temptations of power.
As we leave the scene, Beatrice urges me to crouch down while placing her delicate hand on my injured cheek. Her healing abilities instantly mend the slight scratch I acquired during the confrontation.
Though insignificant, I deeply appreciate her concern for my well-being.
"A minor slip," I comment calmly while tenderly stroking her golden head. "Good thing I have my princess with me."
Lucas watches the situation attentively from afar and notices how Lessed brings the defeated thief towards us. Without saying a word, he hands Emilia over to me, and I gladly accept this new responsibility as we hastily retreat from the location.
Beatrice strides purposefully towards the captured thief and uses her prodigious magical abilities to mercilessly drain what little mana is left within him; a cruel yet necessary act to obtain valuable information about this enigmatic individual.
When Beatrice returns to my side, her expression reveals a deep understanding of what she has discovered:
"This individual is a wind magic specialist indeed," she begins with a calm but knowledgeable voice. "However, his ability to manipulate mana is surprisingly deficient, I suppose. I could barely sense the faint presence of his life force within him, indeed."
I surmise that this explains both his apparent physical frailty and the delicate situation he finds himself in, whether due to recent involvement in a conflict or simply a weak constitution from the start.
Beatrice, with her penetrating and keen gaze, concludes that there is no trace of miasma in the captured thief. These rules out the possibility of an attack perpetrated by the Witch Cult.
Furthermore, upon careful examination of the thief, I find no visible deformities or distinctive signs associated with the Witch Cult.
Once we reach the mansion, I turn my attention to the soldiers gathered in front of us.
"Take him to the basement," I order with a firm but cold voice. "Cut the tendons of his hands and feet to ensure absolute immobility. Use sturdy metal cables to shackle him and follow the rest of the established protocol meticulously."
The soldiers promptly obey my command with a disciplined military salute and are led by one of our servants to the basement; there, the necessary interrogation will take place to extract any useful information this individual may possess.