Chapter 30: Telling the truth, no one believes it anymore... (Patreon)

"Mm... that's about it."

After talking for a while, Veltol wrapped up his explanation with those words.

"Mm." Pandora nodded in response.

His account had been vague, but she'd gotten the general idea.

Just as it would be a hundred years from now, the royal capital was every bit as prosperous today, built along the same lines but with its social classes sharply divided.

The differences were these:

— A kingdom under the protection of a divine dragon, untouched by war.

— Demihumans now held the same standing as humans.

— The royal family itself was still alive at this point in time.

Various small nations attached themselves to the larger powers, forming what was called the "Four-Kingdom Balance."

But regarding the royal capital as it stood now — and as it would become later — there was one question she'd always wanted to ask.

"Mister Veltol, why doesn't the royal capital set up checkpoints?"

It was precisely because of that absence that all manner of infiltrations into the royal capital would later occur.

Veltol shook his head at the question.

"There's no need." He didn't look like he was joking. "Soldiers patrol the capital at all hours, and knights do the same from time to time."

That solemn expression, paired with words utterly devoid of feeling, made it hard not to believe him.

"Soldiers and knights can't possibly be present at every place danger might strike. That's exactly why precautions need to be set up in advance."

Pandora, however, countered with a smile.

"No — going by past experience, it can be done. And even in the rare case no one arrives in time, we knights take it upon ourselves to bear the responsibility." Veltol only shook his head. "We hold that resolve — to give our lives for the kingdom's people."

"That won't do at all, Mister Veltol."

"..."

"You can't treat people's lives as mere objects just because you and the others hold that resolve — waiting until they're already broken before squabbling over whose fault it was. That kind of thinking is the worst thing you could do."

"..."

"Sorry, listen to me — going on about all that when there was no need to."

"Not at all. What you say makes a lot of sense, miss. Actually..."

Before he could finish—

"Ah, we're almost there." Pandora, looking at the tall building poking up above the distant treeline, changed the subject without the slightest hesitation. "I really can't wait."

"Mm..." Cut off mid-sentence, Veltol didn't seem inclined to press the point.

And so, by the time they reached the outskirts of the royal capital—

"Miss Pandora." Veltol suddenly came to a stop.

"What is it?" Pandora asked, puzzled, looking at the red-haired young man whose expression had turned a shade more serious.

"Your attire..."

From head to toe, she looked like she had nothing but a single white cloth "draped" over her, and she wasn't even wearing shoes.

That wasn't the only strange thing about her, either.

— Her long hair, like a cascade of platinum, was bound with unnaturally neat blue cord, as though it shimmered with its own light.

— Her bare feet, snow-white, hadn't picked up a speck of dirt despite walking so long over grass and dirt roads.

"Is it that strange?" Seeing his reaction, Pandora held both arms out level and asked.

"Yes. If you appear in the royal capital looking like this, it might invite trouble you don't need." Veltol nodded plainly. "Your looks and bearing suggest someone of high noble birth, but your clothes look like a commoner's. Either alone wouldn't be an issue, but the contradiction of the two together... So, if you're not an ordinary person, please be careful."

It was, without question, the longest speech he'd given the entire trip — longer even than his introduction to the royal capital.

And he was, by nature, a blunt, plain-spoken man.

Of course, Pandora understood: anyone capable of drawing that much plain speech out of him had, at the very least, passed some kind of "screening."

"Well then, I'm a witch."

At those words, Veltol let out a sigh he couldn't hold back.

"Miss Pandora, do you understand what the word 'witch' means?"

"Of course. In this world, disaster follows wherever a witch goes."

"And yet you're already here, and nothing has happened." Veltol laid out his "hard evidence" in the fewest words possible. "Besides, there are no witches left in this world anymore."

Pandora merely smiled. "I'm different from the others — I'm a witch who loves peace. That's why I'm still alive: because I haven't destroyed anything."

"Very well, Miss Witch. Just please don't reveal your identity within the royal capital."

Legend held that witches possessed beauty many times beyond that of ordinary people...

So even dressed in nothing but a single white cloth, rather than a knight's uniform...

...paired with that face, even Veltol — a man who always minded his manners — had felt his heart skip when he first laid eyes on her, before... settling back into calm.

But if that were all there was to it...

"Mm." He clearly still didn't quite believe her, but Pandora let the matter drop.

"It's lively here." Passing through the gate between the high walls and seeing the sea of people beyond, Pandora let out an admiring sigh.

Why, seeing this scene, did she feel such a strange sense of being cut off from the world...

"It's about what you described, sir."

Tall buildings built brick by brick, tile by tile, and all manner of hawking cries filling the air without pause.

And this was merely the outskirts, in the early morning...

"Mm." At that, Veltol nodded as well.

"Well then, thank you, sir." With that, Pandora smiled, ready to part ways.

"Don't mention it." He didn't say much more either, just gave a nod.

"See you again, if we get the chance."

"Mm..."

With that farewell exchanged, Pandora set off into the royal capital, carrying her small bag, the envelope, and the map.

"..."

Watching her back as she went, Veltol fell into thought — so deep that—

"Yo, big brother, done with your sword practice already?" A hand had already landed on his shoulder before he even noticed the person behind him.

"Fraybal. Something you need?" Clearly, at the sight of his younger brother, the man who was normally utterly stone-faced broke into a smile.

"Ha, something I need? What's this 'need' business..." Fraybal clapped Veltol on the shoulder. "Let's have a duel, after training!"

As he said this, ignoring the stares of passersby, Fraybal slung an arm around Veltol's shoulder.

"What are you staring at? So lost in thought?" Getting no response when he tried to pull him along, Fraybal waved a hand in front of his face.

At that, Veltol pried his hand off.

"It's nothing..."