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Chapter 34: Calm Before the Storm: Search and Reflection

Janice continued her halting translation. The Elder suddenly raised his hand to stop her.

"Wait! What's Parthena?"

How would I know? Janice shrugged.

"...Is what you just said—'Hephaestus'—the same word that appears on the map?"

"It's the same, but there's more text below. 'Bathed in Pura's glory, with the key of Rat...nepa, open the walls of Herois. Hephaestus is Herois, and Herois is Hephaestus?'"

"..."

Even if she could read Laphan, the location of the "ruins" or how to open them wasn't easy to figure out. As a result, the Elder and the kidnappers tore their hair out daily—a sight that brought Janice some relief.

Perhaps because she could read Laphan, they occasionally asked for her opinion. But...

"Wait. This shape looks like a truncated pyramid. It's similar to the old emblem of the Grand Duchy of Karelia—could this mean the 'ruins' are located where the Grand Duchy of Karelia once stood?"

"What's a truncated pyramid? Karlea? Karelia? I've never heard of them..."

"..."

The kidnappers soon agreed to use Janice solely as a translator.

They didn't pressure her much except when translation was needed. Thanks to that, Janice could spend most of her newfound free time with Raymond.

With sufficient medicine and nutrition, Raymond was steadily recovering—Janice's only comfort and hope.

"Hey, I got cookies earlier. The Elder gave them to me for translating well."

"Where's mine?"

"Hehe, you don't get any!"

"Greedy! But what did you translate?"

"Kar? Kare? I don't really know. They said it's a country name—do you know it? They said the ruins might be there."

"Is there a country called Kare? I don't know either."

Raymond tilted his head. Then, a moment later—

'Grand Duchy of Karelia?'

'Yeah, that place.'

They exchanged more precise information using only mouth shapes.

Janice and Raymond used their young age to collect and exchange as much information as possible. Perhaps because they were just children talking, the kidnappers didn't pay much attention—a small mercy.

---

Day eighteen of the kidnapping.

The investigation, which had been at a standstill, accelerated rapidly with the addition of the specially selected investigators Garren had chosen. Within 24 hours of their joining, they'd found the warehouse where the children had been held and identified three suspected hideouts.

Garren decided to raid all three simultaneously, preparing for any unforeseen danger.

One location would be led by Garren, another by his father the old Duke, and the third by Peron, the eldest son of the Marquess of Verdo, who had come to the capital for his nephew.

But there were challenges. The biggest was manpower.

All three locations were isolated and remote, requiring a strategy of discreet infiltration by skilled investigators for a coordinated takedown—but there weren't enough trustworthy, capable investigators.

Even factoring in the old Duke's subordinates and disciples, and the soldiers under the Marquess of Verdo, they couldn't fill the gaps no matter how they strategized.

If it were just a suppression, that would be one thing—but they also had to ensure Janice and Raymond's safety and safe return. Garren couldn't afford even the slightest error.

Given time, they could find more "trustworthy" skilled personnel—but they couldn't be sure Janice and Raymond's situation would wait that long. A single day, a few hours, even minutes could cost them the children.

The agonizing deepened.

---

Day nineteen of the kidnapping.

Janice was again called to the "Elder" for translation and interpretation. Raymond watched her with a mix of guilt, gratitude, and complex emotions.

The Janice he knew would break before she'd bend. Even knowing he was the Emperor's nephew, the Empress Dowager's grandson, and the Grand Duke's only son, she was the only one—child or not—who'd ever fought him tooth and nail, ready to die for a win.

And that Janice had compromised with those who had killed—or were connected to those who killed—her beloved adoptive parents. That would never have happened if not for him.

―What do you mean 'because of you,' idiot? Stop saying stupid things and get better!

Janice grumbled, accusing him of being overly self-conscious—but not saying it didn't change the truth.

―I'm sorry.

―For what? I'm the one who got you kidnapped because of me. You want to go home, don't you? ...Sorry.

A few days ago, when Janice apologized to him, her face looked like she might cry at any moment. So Raymond pretended not to notice.

But pretending not to see didn't mean he truly didn't.

He'd seen it—her chin scrunched up like a peach pit, her eyes rolling upward to hold back tears, her nose reddening, her eyes growing moist.

―You're a boy, and Janice is a girl. A boy should naturally protect a delicate lady!

Now Raymond finally understood what his mother, the Grand Duchess, had meant.

Janice was strong and fierce—but now she was like a glass doll, fragile enough to shatter at any moment. He was supposed to protect her—yet instead, he was the one being protected.

So Raymond felt sorry. To the point of death.

"...I'm such an idiot."

He regretted his past—running around with his friends, playing foolish pranks. If he'd gone to the frontier early and trained, like his grandfather and uncle had said, could he have fought off the kidnappers and protected Janice?

At the very least, he wouldn't have ended up in a coma from a bit of cold wind.

If he could turn back time, Raymond would gladly go to the frontier. He'd train with the knights or soldiers there... no, he wouldn't have run away in the first place just to see a cavalry parade.

Bitter regret and self-loathing tormented him.

But the worst part was that he could barely stand for a few minutes now. His prolonged illness had left him unable to run—even standing made him dizzy and weak.

Lack of strength in his limbs was secondary. His vision spun, and the ceiling swayed. When he asked why, the doctor said his body simply hadn't fully recovered.

Given the situation, Janice kept telling him that getting better was the best way to help—but...

"How frustrating!"

Raymond gritted his teeth.

He'd never felt so powerless. What good was being the Emperor's nephew, the Grand Duke's son? Third in line to the throne meant nothing when he couldn't even protect himself and one friend!

Raymond was furious with himself—so much so that tears came. His clenched fists trembled. Through the open door, watching Janice translate for the "Elder," only made him angrier.

He desperately wanted to find a solution. He thought and thought—but no matter how he racked his brain, no good answer came.

Knowing it was futile, Raymond searched his bag again, hoping that looking at the things he had—smoke bombs and the like—might spark an idea. There was nothing beyond the prank tools he'd packed, but still, he searched again, clinging to a 0.01% chance and a 0.001% hope.

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