Turning

‘...Why did he ask something so obvious? W-Wait. Did he think I was like the first wife or something...?’

Following behind Kishiar, Kiole suddenly felt a creeping sense of unease.

Watching someone so easy to read it was like looking through glass, Yuder clicked his tongue quietly. He figured Kishiar’s question probably carried more than one implication.

‘He must’ve wanted to confirm whether Kiole, though he's begun to recognize the injustice others face, hasn’t taken it so far that it’s distorted his values in strange ways.’

Kiole had formed a sincere, deeply human bond with the other commoner convicts he met during the forced labor incident. He even went so far as to ask Yuder—whom he normally feared—to help arrange another meeting with them.

But every change has two sides. While it was good that Kiole could now empathize with the suffering of others, it also meant there was a chance he might start equating things that shouldn't be equated. Like mistaking an old servant who was a criminal for someone just like the innocent labor camp prisoners.

Thankfully, Kiole wasn’t so foolish that he couldn’t smell the stench of someone truly rotten. Moreover, when it came to knowing what a knight should and shouldn’t do, he seemed to have it drilled into his head like a textbook.

‘He really is a strange one.’

Glancing sideways, Yuder noticed that Nathan Zuckerman, too, was quietly watching Kiole with a look slightly different than before. As someone who lived more like a knight than anyone else, Nathan was probably quite surprised by what he’d just heard.

They continued walking down a path nestled between the gardens, heading ever deeper. They’d been walking for quite a while, yet the cigarette case in Kiole’s hand and the items taken from it showed no signs of change.

Just as Yuder was beginning to consider whether to activate his powers and flip the surroundings inside out, Kishiar spoke in a calm voice.

“There are a lot of unusually tall trees and plants here. Even if someone were walking alone, no one would be able to see them from outside. It must’ve been designed like a maze on purpose.”

Yuder had been thinking the same thing. It wasn’t unusual—there were nobles who built maze-like gardens hidden from view specifically to enjoy secret meetings. But the thought that this place had been used solely by the Duke of Diarca made it feel somewhat unfitting.

“Kiole la Diarca.”

“Y-Yes!”

“Now, now. I told you not to be so tense. When the Duke of Diarca took walks around the main residence, what was it usually like? Did he enjoy strolling in closed-off gardens like this one?”

“No.”

Kiole answered firmly.

“My father... didn’t like suffocating gardens like this. He used to say it made him uncomfortable not knowing who might be hiding and watching him... That’s why he liked walking by the lake near the 4th Wall the most...”

He trailed off mid-sentence, recalling the recent tragic incident that had taken place there. A dark shadow crossed Kiole’s face as his mood grew heavy. He averted his gaze as if to avoid the thought, and then suddenly noticed something and opened his mouth.

“Oh.”

“What is it?”

Yuder Aile instantly reacted, stretching out his hand protectively in front of Kiole.

“No, it’s just... There’s a pergola that looks exactly like the one we saw by the pond earlier.”

Kiole was right. Up ahead, there was a quiet pergola with a domed roof. It was the same size, and even the ruby Ellaria blooming on its rooftop looked identical.

But that was all.

“And why’s that...”

“I-It’s just something I noticed.”

“My aide simply wanted to ask if anything about this feels off to you. No need to look so scared.”

Kishiar gently stepped in.

“I’m curious as well. Please, speak freely. I don’t know much about the Duke’s garden preferences, even down to little things.”

Kiole finally managed to summon a bit of courage from Kishiar’s words. Still hesitating, he looked down at the Duke’s signet in his hand and began to speak.

“My father... was a great collector. But he never liked collecting the same thing over and over. He always wanted something new.”

When it came to gems, he’d collect only the finest examples, one per type and size. When it came to books, he never bought more than one copy of the same title. As a child, Kiole had once been scolded by his father for not understanding why anyone would want to buy multiple copies of the same knight storybook.

Remembering the bitterness of that moment, Kiole’s brow furrowed deeply.

“So, um. Even in the gardens at the main residence, there were never any flowers planted the same way in two areas. Same for benches or pergolas... He would never place two of the same design in different spots. So that’s why this one feels kind of...”

Looking toward the pergola, Kishiar murmured,

“You felt it was odd.”

“Y-Yes. Exactly!”

It was a subtle dissonance that no one but Kiole could have noticed.

With a smile, Kishiar briskly strode toward the pergola.

“Good observation. If you hadn’t said anything, we might’ve wasted our time. Let’s take a look.”

“Eh?”

Four of them stood side by side in front of the ordinary pergola, supported by tall, straight pillars with benches beneath.

Back at the pond, entering the pergola had done nothing. But what about this one?

“I’m guessing it’s one of those setups where the vault only opens when the keyholder follows the correct path and reaches the destination. If this is the right place, something should trigger as soon as you step inside.”

Kiole swallowed hard.

The signet and key of his father that he’d carried around so casually until now suddenly felt unbearably heavy. What if something went wrong when he tried to open the secret vault? What if a curse spell triggered, or a hidden assassin or sealed monster appeared...?

“Want me to go in with you? Or would you rather hand me the key and have me go first?”

Yuder Aile’s cool voice broke through Kiole’s growing tension like ice.

“Ah, no, that’s...”

“Haha. That could be fun too. If you’d prefer that, just say the word. I’m more than happy to assist.”

Kishiar chuckled, as if he didn’t think it was a bad idea at all.

“I was the one who agreed to follow you here. If there’s danger, it should be me, not the Commander, who goes first.”

“No. If danger’s a real possibility, then I should be the one to go. What kind of sense does it make to come all this way only to sit back and let someone else handle the fun part? Even you, Yuder, can’t argue with that.”

“...I’ll go.”

As he watched the three men practically fighting over who should go in first in his place, Kiole began to feel like all that anxiety was foolish.

‘I never even agreed to that. Why are they all acting like I’m scared? It makes me look like a coward...!’

Scowling, Kiole clenched his fists and stomped into the pergola.

— Paaaaah!

The moment Kiole’s foot stepped inside, a blinding white light burst from the key.

“Gah...!”

Kiole instinctively assumed a defensive posture and shut his eyes tight. But even after a few seconds, he felt no impact. Slowly, he peeked one eye open.

“Wha... what the?”

One of the pergola’s support pillars was now glowing faintly. Kiole realized there was a small hole—like a keyhole—there. As if drawn by a spell, he slowly approached and reached out his hand.

The moment the key entered the hole, a red light shone from the gem on the key and from the Duke’s signet ring. The light circled Kiole as if scanning him, then turned white and shattered like snowflakes.

With a sound like machinery whirring to life, a previously unseen number appeared in the center of the pillar.

‘...1?’

Looking around, Kiole saw that the other pillars had numbers too. They were numbered 1 through 6.

“These must be the storage numbers for the items in the vault.”

Kishiar had somehow appeared beside him again, murmuring quietly. Kiole flinched and awkwardly asked,

“S-So what should I do now?”

“Hmm. Try placing your hand on pillar number one.”

Following his instructions, Kiole reached out. A panel opened beneath the number, revealing a hidden compartment.

Inside the hollow pillar were several heavy-looking chests. Glancing at Kishiar, Kiole cautiously nudged one open—only to be stunned by the blinding glint of jewels inside, and he slammed it shut with a gasp.

“Gah...”

“Incredible. Just selling one of those could feed a family for five generations.”

Kishiar, who had glimpsed everything in that brief moment, whistled in admiration.

What was stored in pillar number one was the Duke of Diarca’s slush fund.