----------------------------------------------------------------- Translator: Harry Potta Chapter Title: There is No Mercy Chapter 48 ----------------------------------------------------------------- Three years ago. My mother suddenly collapsed. I was shocked to hear that my healthy mother had fallen ill, but even af...
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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter Title: There is No Mercy Chapter 48
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Three years ago.
My mother suddenly collapsed.
I was shocked to hear that my healthy mother had fallen ill, but even after summoning priests, mages, and every kind of healer, we couldn't pinpoint the exact cause of her sickness.
Moreover, her condition worsened in the sweltering, humid summer, so around that time, we had to take her to a cooler place to escape the heat.
"Don't worry too much. We're exhausting every option to find a cure, so she'll shake this off and be up on her feet soon enough. More than that, Flora's been fretting over you so much that my ears are practically callused. Come on in."
My father smiled as he opened the door.
A cool breeze swept through the open doorway, piercing right through my body.
"Sierra."
A frail but endlessly warm and gentle voice.
My gaze fell on the bed, where thin curtains cascaded like a waterfall, and behind them hid a golden-haired woman, shyly peeking out.
"Mother!"
Flora was sitting up.
I hurried over, dropping to one knee beside the bed and reaching out a hand.
The slender hand resting on the bed was still warm.
I bit my lip as a hallucination flashed through my mind of that same hand, cold as ice in a coffin.
Stroking the small, frail hand I held tightly, I lifted my head.
Though gaunt, the strong eyes were those of the woman I knew.
"Have you been well? You've gotten so thin."
"...No way. I'm the same as always. I've been eating well and living well—in fact, I've even put on a little weight."
I swallowed the surging emotions and forced a smile, and Mother curved her lips into a gentle grin.
She looked a bit sleepy, worn out from the long journey.
Her clear but languid eyes slowly scanned me before meeting mine again.
"Has my daughter grown this much? It feels like I haven't seen you in ages."
It might have just been a simple greeting, happy to see me after so long.
But to me now, those words from Mother carried more weight than anything.
I smiled quietly at the fact that my mother, who noticed even my smallest changes with just one look, was right there before me.
"It's been... a few years since I last saw you too, Mother. Isn't that strange?"
Mother nodded, mirroring my smile, then raised her head.
My father, who had followed me in, shared a brief kiss with Mother before helping me to my feet.
"You must be tired from riding in the carriage since dawn yesterday—get some rest. Flora, leave the rest to me."
"Alright. Take good care of Sierra, Rud."
"Rest easy, Flora."
Father placed a hand on my shoulder and gave it a light pat, as if urging me to stand.
I released Mother's hand and rose, and Flora waved with a soft smile.
I waved back lightly, confirmed she was lying down, and left the room.
"She doesn't look well at all."
"Even with that smile, just a few days ago she was coughing up blood. We called in priests for treatment, but it seems like time is running short."
"The treatments didn't help much this time either, huh."
Father nodded gravely.
Yet his hand gently stroked my hair, his kind smile unwavering.
"We'll find a cure soon. I'll stake everything I have on it, so don't worry. Flora may be your mother, but before that, she's the wife I love. Even if it kills me, I won't give up—so don't make that face."
I turned my head, feeling his touch on my hair as tender and precious as spring sunlight brushing soft cotton.
As if repaying the long years of pain and suffering in my memories, I spent the next two days with my parents.
I listened to tales of Father's valor and reminisced over Mother's old stories until late evening, when the Daytum butler came calling.
I had been sitting in my room, flipping through a book, when a knock sounded at the door. I stood up.
"Sorry to bother you so late at night, miss. I have a report and came in a hurry."
"Would you like to come in?"
"No need. I'll just hand this over and go."
Daytum handed me a thick report.
Curious, I opened it right away. Inside was Gilbert's testimony.
I skimmed the first page, closed it, and shook my head.
"When was this?"
"It's the report from his confession this morning when he came to me. After eight hours of interrogation following the guide you provided and my own judgment, this is the result. But there wasn't much useful information, so I hesitated to report it yet."
"What do you mean?"
"There's almost no answers to what you're looking for."
I frowned, and Daytum extended his fingers as if to say, read it yourself.
He let out a dry sigh and pressed his tired eyelids.
I'd wondered where he'd been all day since I hadn't seen him—turns out he was working on this.
"It's a detailed report covering every bit of information. It's too late for a full briefing—I'll give you the details tomorrow morning."
"Got it. Good work, Daytum butler. Go rest."
I watched Daytum bow and leave, then closed the door.
Back in my room, I sat in the chair and flipped through the report Daytum had given me.
I thought it would take forever since it was so thick, but I flew through it.
As Daytum said, there wasn't much to it.
It only noted that Gilbert had been expelled from the imperial knights and joined Brilloxen on Bozbon's recommendation—nothing detailed beyond that.
Nowhere in the report was there any mention of a secret deal between Bozbon and Gilbert.
After reading to the last page and closing it, one thought crossed my mind.
"Is he messing with me?"
No hard evidence, but the suspicions were solid, and this attitude meant he had some backing.
Did I give him too much time?
I'd deliberately left a gap, thinking he might contact Bozbon.
But there was no sign of any contact.
That meant information was being exchanged internally, in secret.
"Jin. Come in."
As I stood from the chair, the door opened, and Jin, waiting outside, entered.
He faced me with his stoic expression, as if asking what was up.
I gave him a short nod.
"Tomorrow morning, pass the word to each head maid and butler. Tell them to proceed with the staff rotation."
"Understood."
"And Jin, with Riphert Knight, assign people to the ones I specify. Report back to me on everything—where they go, who they meet, what they say. Especially anything related to Bozbon."
"I'll see it done."
"Good. And as you know, what I tell you is top secret. I trust you get what I'm saying without me spelling it out."
Jin nodded heavily, his face impassive.
I didn't mind a man with a tight lip.
I smirked and gestured that he could go.
As Jin turned calmly to leave, something occurred to me, and I called him back shortly.
Our eyes met as he turned. I paused, choosing my words, then spoke.
"Is Aden doing well? You meet him regularly for training, right?"
"He is."
"How exactly is he doing well?"
"...?"
Jin's head tilted at my question.
I sighed and shook my head at his blinking, questioning look.
What am I even asking?
"Never mind. Go on. Oh, and you've probably heard, but there's a merchant guild meeting tomorrow. I'll be going with you instead of Riphert, so prepare."
"As you command."
"Dismissed."
Jin bowed his head and left the room.
Staring at the door as it clicked shut, I exhaled upward, brushing my bangs aside.
What was I even asking?
"Sheesh."
I'm sleepy, but staying up late is making me weird.
I shuffled to bed, lay down, stared at the dark ceiling, and let out a long sigh.
"...Gonna be a late night."
My head was a mess.
Baran quietly approached Aden, who was observing the knights' training in the drill hall.
Aden held up a hand to the knight captain, who was reporting on the order's achievements, then turned to Baran.
"What is it?"
"We've finished interrogating the three from the previous Genoa estate. They're being treated as criminals for attempted crime, but since they're nobles, we used methods short of torture—and got nothing useful."
"Still sticking to the story that it was their independent attempt to impress the Bozbon duke's daughter?"
Baran nodded slowly.
Aden sighed and furrowed his brow.
Recalling the incident in Genoa still turned his stomach.
Sierra had prepared thoroughly, but if she'd slipped up, it could have turned disastrous without much surprise.
Aden had investigated the three intensely, hoping for encouraging results.
But reality was the opposite.
"Just a waste of time, then."
"Their families are requesting their release now. Attempted crimes by nobles are treated as misdemeanors, and the families claim they'll handle punishment internally. It'll be a slap on the wrist, but we don't have much grounds to hold them longer."
"If we keep them, it'll drag in the imperial family. I hate the hassle—interrogate them a bit more and let them go."
"Understood. But..."
Baran nodded while jotting notes in his notebook, then trailed off.
Aden, turning back to the knight captain, tilted his head as if to ask why.
Baran glanced around, stepped closer, and whispered low.
"...I'm not sure what to do with Lady Richel. She still hasn't said a word. She eats the food and water we give her, so she doesn't seem suicidal, but she shows no other reaction. A normal lady would crack after a day in the dank, bug-infested underground dungeon, but not her. She's like an empty doll."
After Richel tried to kill Piolett Baylor in Genoa but stabbed Sierra instead, her disposition had been transferred from Genoa to Riplton.
Despite repeated urgings from Bozbon and the imperial family to hand her over to the empire, Riplton had no reason to comply.
Sierra thought so, and Aden agreed—Richel could prove quite important.
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