Home/I confined you, but I have no ill will/ch8

8.

The journalist rolled his eyes and said.

"It'll be fine, right?"

"Probably?"

Even knowing the risk, he couldn't overcome the desire that had lingered all this time. The journalists decided to publish the question in the advice column.

And on the day that question was published, everyone who had ever held a weapon was stirred with excitement.

"Isn't this an outright snipe at him?!"

"Well, there are three Swordmasters, though. It might not be him."

"But it's printed in the Empire's newspaper! More importantly, look at the premise—it says ordinary woman."

"Then she can't win. Even if you brought a whole squad of properly trained knights, a Swordmaster wouldn't lose."

"Of course she can't win in a straight fight!"

But what if it wasn't a direct battle? He cautiously proposed a method.

"Couldn't she use poison?"

At that, another person reading the newspaper chimed in.

The interloper passionately voiced his opinion.

"I've heard that once you become a Swordmaster, you also become resistant to poison. And first of all, getting him to ingest it is a problem. Look—it says ordinary here. That means her appearance and everything else are ordinary too. How could such a person even approach a Swordmaster?"

"What if she's a beauty who considers herself ordinary?"

"You mean a honey trap? That seems like a stretch, though. Maybe the Swordmaster has a taste for plainness."

"That's possible too."

People gathered in small groups and discussed seriously. Poison, traps, swarming attacks—all sorts of methods poured out. And some of them wrote down their suggestions and sent them to the newspaper.

And once again, unable to overcome his desire, the journalist printed those responses in full.

---

Kite did not read newspapers or magazines, nor did he pay attention to social gossip. He figured it was obvious what they'd say anyway, and reading them directly was a waste of time. So Vice-Commander Seren gathered and summarized information on his behalf.

"That's why I keep telling you to hire an aide."

"But those who only read books are too frail."

It wasn't that they were frail—it was that Kite was excessive—but Seren did not point that out. Having been by Kite's side since childhood, he knew why Kite was the way he was.

The chronic insomnia that clung to him for so long, and his inability to trust others—both were born from people now dead and gone. Kali, the current Emperor's father and Kite's elder brother, and Saraen, Kite's mother.

Lost in thought for a moment, Seren looked up at the gaze he felt upon him. Kite was watching him with a knowing look, as if he understood what Seren was thinking. Only then did Seren speak again.

"A peculiar question appeared in the newspaper's advice column this time."

"A peculiar question?"

"How can an ordinary woman defeat a Swordmaster?"

As Seren recited the question he had remembered, Kite crossed his legs and let out an incredulous laugh.

"Huh?"

"In my opinion, it seems aimed at you, Lord Kite. Because the other two Swordmasters are not from the Empire."

"Fine, let's say that's true. Then why is the question phrased like that? Ordinary woman?"

What business would an ordinary woman have picking a fight with a Swordmaster? And more importantly, what was the standard for ordinary?

Kite had his share of women who bore grudges against him, but he couldn't tell which one it might be. The word ordinary could apply to far too many people.

Could it be the same person who had been tailing him lately? With all these nagging incidents piling up, it bothered him. Seren didn't seem to know that part, but he must have looked into it anyway.

"I traced the mail sent to the newspaper office because of it. But I couldn't identify the sender. The origin is within the Empire, but it was sent anonymously from the outskirts—tracking it down will take more time."

Given time, Seren would find the sender. So Kite didn't worry about that part. What interested him more were the answers to the question.

"So, what answers were selected?"

"...Improper methods. You'd be better off not hearing them."

"Bring me the newspaper."

It had been a long time since such things could hurt him; Seren was being overly considerate.

After a moment's hesitation, he brought Kite the relevant newspaper.

Indeed, the answers were as improper as Seren had described. As if treating Kite as a giant monster, the methods listed were brutal to behold.

Ridiculous.

Even if these methods were used, they wouldn't bring Kite down. Plenty of people had attempted such things before, and no one had ever succeeded.

Kite crossed his legs and leaned back leisurely in his chair. He had already lost interest in the newspaper's contents. Seren seemed to notice and changed the subject—to the knight order's monster subjugation schedule.

---

Ibelin was reading today's issue of Kas.

The newspaper had printed her question, along with answers and suggested methods.

"Isn't this a bit much?"

Sitting at the kitchen table, Ibelin clicked her tongue as she read through it. Archduke Gracias was still a human being—the methods were too extreme.

Still, seeing this gave her an idea. Ibelin neatly folded the newspaper and went down to the basement. The basement was filled with countless items, among them ammunition. It seemed her grandfather had favored guns in his youth—perhaps that was why he had never been good with a sword.

The neatly arranged ammunition boxes each had their purpose inscribed.

[Sleep]

[Stun]

[Explosion]

[Poison]

[Frost]

There were ordinary bullets as well, but the special ones outnumbered them. Each had undergone magical treatment and carried mystical power. Moreover, they were all of the same caliber—perfectly matching Ibelin's gun.

"These must be expensive."

Even having lived in the countryside, she wasn't entirely ignorant of prices. Guns were expensive and difficult to handle, and ammunition was the same. And to enchant bullets that had already been processed?

That would cost a fortune.

"And yet there are this many of them."

Her grandfather must have been enormously wealthy. If the relatives who had seized the country house and property ever found out, their eyes would roll back in their heads.

Additionally, the question of what her grandfather had actually done for a living kept welling up. She had thought about it several times since entering this house. She never reached a conclusion.

Ibelin loaded new bullets into her gun. There weren't many days left until the Emperor's birthday. Now she had to move in earnest. All other preparations were complete—now she only needed to bring her benefactor.

"I'm sorry."

It was an action meant to help him, yet somehow her heart ached with guilt.

After that, Ibelin moved according to her thorough advance reconnaissance. She waited quietly on the rooftop of a house in an alley, and soon came face to face with Kite.

Kite was walking alone along a route Ibelin recognized. It seemed he had also read the newspaper. Even if he hadn't, Seren—his vice-commander—would surely have tried to trace the sender. But tracking wouldn't be easy.

Ibelin had gone to equal lengths to disguise herself and send the question.

And when information is hard to come by, my benefactor has a habit of seeking out information brokers.

For the brokers who convulsed at the mere mention of Kite's name, it must have been quite sorrowful—but she alternated between different ones, so she wouldn't run into him too often. Whether that was any consolation was another matter.

Holding her breath, Ibelin fired her gun the moment Kite entered her field of view. The first shot was fired under the assumption that he would dodge or block it. As expected, Kite swiftly deflected the bullet with his drawn sword.

But then she kept firing—a second, a third, staggering the timing.

Will this actually work?

Swordmasters had exceptional defensive capabilities as well. They could even wrap their surplus energy around their bodies. Yet, unexpectedly, the bullets penetrated properly.

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