chapter 13:The Inner Pavilion of the Carbonihar Kingdom
The man’s voice trembled violently.
His overt bewilderment was so palpable that anyone could see Ulrich had hit the mark.
Roberta didn't know who Banares was, but she was certain that this man had been hiding his identity and using the Count as a proxy.
The man opened his mouth to make an excuse, but quickly realizing the futility, he let out a long sigh.
"To think I'd be found out at the very end, when no one has recognized me until now. That's right. I am Bailen, Duke of Rollemanka and a descendant of the Great King Banares."
Duke Bailen asked, his tone one of disbelief.
"How on earth did you know?"
"You resemble him. Banares."
"I resemble him?"
Ulrich rested his arm on the armrest again, propped his chin on his hand, and looked at Bailen. To Roberta, it looked as if he were comparing the man to a figure from his memory.
"No, perhaps you're different after all."
As he muttered to himself, Bailen frowned. Even after revealing he was a member of the royal family, the Lord's nonchalant attitude must have grated on his nerves.
"What do you mean, I resemble him?"
He raised his voice and asked again.
"How do you know what Banares, His Majesty, looked like?"
"I saw him in Carbonihar."
"You saw him?"
Bailen let out a hollow laugh, as if to say it was absurd.
"I've heard that your age is a little over 300. To have met His Majesty, you would have had to be born several hundred years earlier. How could you have seen him?"
"I stayed for a short while."
Ulrich took his chin off his fist and continued.
"I wasn't Ulrich of Dithmarschen back then. I had a different name. And I didn't stay long, not like here. I only stayed for very short periods, several times. I met Banares then."
"You met him? You mean face-to-face?"
"Yes, face-to-face."
Roberta heard one of the guests mutter "nonsense" under his breath. They wore displeased expressions, as if they had just heard utter foolishness.
But Bailen was different. Roberta saw his expression change. The one person who should have been frowning the most instead wiped his face clean of emotion and asked in a low voice.
"Were you using your current name back then?"
wore.
But Bailen was different. Roberta saw his expression change. The one person who should have been frowning the most instead wiped his face clean of emotion and asked in a low voice.
"No, I had a different name."
"Then what name? When you met him."
Roberta pricked up her ears.
The Lord's other name? She thought it might be a clue, something she either knew or could use to find out more. The Lord she had seen didn't seem like the type to have lived an ordinary life, even under a different name.
"My memory is hazy. It was a long time ago, you see. Besides, I had to change my name often back then. I used several names in front of Banares, too."
At the word "several," Bailen quickly asked.
"It doesn't matter. Tell me any you can remember."
Ulrich narrowed his eyes and tapped his temple with his right index and middle fingers. After a long moment, he began to list the names one by one.
"Garian, Ranier, Stein, Lusse..." Roberta tried to find a connection, comparing them to her own memories, but felt not even a flicker of déjà vu.
But Bailen was different. As the names were listed, he held his breath. His eyes widened, as if something was rising from within and striking him.
The look of bewilderment that had been on Bailen's face when he began speaking with the Lord was first painted over with suspicion, and now, it was being coated with astonishment.
"...Later, I also used the name Rosenstein, combining Rosen of Rosenburg and Stein of Braunstein. I thought it was a decent name, but the two regions didn't get along very well. Thanks to that, I had to change it quickly. And the next one should be the last."
........
"As I recall, the last name I used, chronologically, when I met that child, Banares... was a name I used while briefly staying with a local noble—"
And as Ulrich's words reached the name.
"Lorang."
He said the name before anyone else.
Ulrich paused for a moment and looked at him.
"Yes, and like the Elves of old, I added a title before the surname. So the full name was Lorang de Villeneuve. It was a name I used while briefly staying with a noble in the Villeneuve region."
A face, pale as a sheet, was staring at Ulrich.
"You were... Lorang."
His voice trembled, too.
"It's just a few names. I thought it was a coincidence..."
"Too many to be a coincidence, wouldn't you say?"
"Indeed... no," Bailen corrected himself. "Indeed, it is."
"Did Banares tell you?"
"Yes. He was my grandfather."
"Grandfather?"
Duke Bailen's tone of voice changed.
"I see. Now everything makes sense."
Ulrich muttered, then gestured for him to continue his story.
"He said you had a great many names. So when he taught me about you, he started by teaching me those many names. The ones you just listed."
It couldn't be helped back then, Ulrich said.
Ulrich muttered, then gestured for him to continue his story.
"He said you had a great many names. So when he taught me about you, he started by teaching me those many names. The ones you just listed."
"I couldn't stay in one place for long; I was constantly on the move. I had no choice but to change my name each time. In fact, I should say I was lucky to have met that child, Banares, as many times as I did."
"At the time, I thought it was a rather fanciful story... but in the end, he was right. He said that a person with long time will inevitably meet another person with long time."
"He seems to have told you a lot about me."
"Yes. I heard a great deal."
A great, great deal, Bailen muttered.
"Did Banares leave any last words?"
"He left an object. He said that things change."
"I see."
Bailen looked at Lorang—no, Ulrich—as he lifted his teacup.
"What was... your relationship with him?"
"Relationship? I took him in and raised him for a while. A very short while."
Ulrich was about to continue, but seeing Bailen's grave expression, he gave a bitter smile. The man's eyes were intense, as if he were hearing a secret history.
"It's not the kind of relationship you're thinking of. I'm not one to wander about forming such attachments. If I were, Banares would have said so."
And it would have been awkward for both of us, he added.
"...I see."
"Did you think I was your great-grandfather or something?"
"I can't say the thought didn't cross my mind."
Ulrich smiled.
"In that case, what should I call you?"
"I am now Ulrich of Dithmarschen."
Bailen nodded.
The six guests sat back down in their seats. An awkward atmosphere lingered for a moment as the conversation died down. But soon, Bailen let out a short breath and brought up the reason for their visit, the topic that had started their conversation.
"There's nothing more I need to reveal about myself, is there?"
"Did you not just reveal that Banares was your grandfather?"
Roberta furrowed her brow as she listened to the conversation.
Bailen, he had revealed it himself. Banares was a man from centuries before Ulrich of Dithmarschen became Lord. To have such a man as a grandfather, how old must he be?
Until now, she had only seen one human who could live—no, who claimed to live—for so long. And now there were two?
"A human in whom the blood of a dragon flows. It's been a long time."
Except, the other one wasn't human.
She only realized it after hearing Ulrich's mutter.
"What do you plan to do when you meet the Narvakayani?"
"Well. For now, I'd like to talk."
Talk? Roberta tilted her head. It seemed like a modest objective for someone willing to risk the dangers of entering the Ice Peninsula. Bailen glanced at her and said.
"It's only natural that you don't understand."
Then he looked at Ulrich and asked, "Isn't that so?"
Talk? Roberta tilted her head. It seemed like a modest objective for someone willing to risk the dangers of entering the Ice Peninsula. Bailen glanced at her.
"I take it you haven't had a family of your own."
"I've had a few wives, but... you know how it is."
"I see," Ulrich said, lifting his teacup again. He swirled the tea gently as he explained to Roberta, who hadn't understood their exchange.
"Roberta. The half-blood of an Elf is a Galua, the half-blood of a Dwarf is a Mannium, and there are many other words to refer to half-bloods. But do you know what they call the offspring of a human and a dragon?"
Roberta shook her head, indicating she didn't know.
"Is there such a word?"
"I don't know either. It likely never existed in the first place."
"It never existed?"
"What do you mean?"
"A word to refer to a group can only be made if there is a group. But dragons do not form groups, and the descendants of dragons cannot form groups."
Just as she was about to ask why, Bailen answered first.
"Because we are mules."
He smiled. It was a bitter smile.
"Priestesses, a mule, cannot produce offspring. We—no, I—can only remain an individual, even if I wish to form a group. It is as if the same fate is given to the descendants as a punishment for the arrogant race that chose solitude."
He continued, saying that humans were truly strange creatures.
"They are animals that wish to stand above all and enjoy everything for themselves, yet at the same time, they are bound to all. And they are strangely bound by bloodlines. Even if you bind others to you and call them family, the heart still questions if they are of my own blood."
Bailen tilted his teacup.
His face crumpled, but Roberta thought it wasn't because of the Songhwacha's scent. He was frowning, yet there was a subtle smile on his lips.
My branches are more numerous. I am a mule. My mother turned to dust hundreds of years ago. Her siblings, of course, and even my closest relatives are now more distant than strangers.
He looked at Ulrich and asked.
"You understand, don't you? What I'm trying to say."
Ulrich did not answer, only tilting his teacup.
"Some might envy the blood that flows in my veins. The Galua and Mannium struggle to live past 300 years, but I am destined for a long life, comparable to that of an Elf. But what good is that? When there is nothing I can leave behind in this world."
"Bloodlines aren't the only thing you can leave behind."
"Perhaps,"
He smiled at Ulrich.
"It is because you are who you are that we remain."
"Bailen."
"But I am different. I am not as strong as you."
"And if you meet that child? Do you think that will resolve these feelings of yours? You're wrong. You are human. Dragons are a species that does not flock together; how do you think one would treat a human, and one not even from the East at that?"
The two met each other's gaze and fell silent.
It was Ulrich who broke the ensuing silence.
"I see."
The two met each other's gaze and fell silent.
It was Ulrich who broke the ensuing silence.
"I see.
Roberta looked at the Lord with a surprised expression.
"Do you intend to become a half-wit?"
He was frowning. It wasn't a deep frown, just a small wrinkle that a stranger would not have noticed.
But she had never seen him make such an expression before.
"I knew you would understand."
Bailen leaned forward in his seat, clasped his hands politely, and spoke to Ulrich.
"That is why I seek Narvakayani, my father. A father I have never seen, but he remembers my mother, and his blood flows in me."
.......
"Ulrich, no, Lorang. Will you not help me? Just as you helped my grandfather... Please, show me mercy. For the you I have heard of, what could be impossible?"
Ulrich leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.
'Roberta, have you grown used to the cold?'
"Yes. To some extent."
"Then this won't be easy."
The question was clear. The Lord was telling her that he would be the guide, and asking if she would join him.
She turned her gaze to the drawing-room window.
It was not yet noon. In the far distance, a colossal, gloomy mountain shrouded in clouds was visible. Even from this far away, she could see it was a branch of the Kaldorekai, the mountain range that crossed the Ice Peninsula.
If she went with him, she would have to cross that.
Could she cross it? And what lay beyond?
The monsters the Lord had shown her would be waiting. Honestly, she was reluctant. This was not the duty of a Priestess, and it was incredibly dangerous.
But she told Ulrich that she would go.
Why? Even she couldn't pinpoint the reason. Being near this strange Lord sometimes made her act unlike herself. This just happened to be one of those times.
"Go to Bernhardt and tell him to prepare. You'll need to dress warmly. It's a truly cold place."
Ulrich rose from his seat and immediately summoned an attendant, ordering them to pack for a journey. Roberta turned and followed him out of the drawing-room.
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