A thought suddenly came to Riyan.
Was it coincidence, or was it necessity?
According to Berka, what had happened at the Victory Streak Match was because the Treasurer's heart had been moved. Though, of course, that had been entirely his own arrangement, made with the Empire's usual conduct and habits in mind.
But right after that, he had come under the watch of the Imperial Inspector, and now, at this point, he had formed a connection with the daughter of the Minister of Military Affairs.
‘Come to think of it, it looks like I'm the one chasing after them.’
Even though he had no such intention.
Riyan's black eyes turned to Haral.
“What's the worst case you're worried about, Instructor Haral?”
“That we make some mistake and offend the Minister of Military Affairs, I suppose.”
“And after that?”
“That Sevanne woman takes a liking to you and wants to sponsor you, or something.”
“That's the worst?”
“What, you think that'd be good luck? You're a gladiator who belongs to the arena, and you're going to throw yourself into the arms of the Minister of Military Affairs? That'd be the stupidest suicide in the world.”
As Haral said, that place might well be the jaws of a tiger.
However, even if the fangs visible before his eyes were sharper than expected, that was no reason to turn back. After all, everything in the Imperial Capital was controlled under the watchful eyes of the Imperial Arcana Council.
“If her background is that good, isn't it fine, though?”
“Look, I think you're mistaken about something.”
Haral glanced around, ground his teeth, and spoke in a low voice.
“No matter how much they hype you up as a gladiator of the Empire or whatever, in the end, you're just a slave. A gladiator that nobles take an interest in and sponsor is a well-bred stud horse that's good for showing off to others, nothing more and nothing less.”
“Is that so?”
“The Rose Gladiator? That bastard, I guarantee he won't last more than a few years. For now, he's got the favor of slick noblewomen, so he'll live on that smug satisfaction. But what do you think happens when that interest cools?”
“I doubt it'll be anything good.”
Haral, grinding his teeth, was about to spit, then seemed to remember whose garden this was, and his throat bobbed as he swallowed.
“With the Minister of Military Affairs' daughter as your backing, you'd definitely be able to live large. You definitely would. But even so, do you want to get tangled in the skirts of a woman whose whims you can't predict?”
Haral certainly seemed to be misunderstanding something. Probably because he had guessed that Riyan wanted a glamorous life like the Rose Gladiator's.
But coming here today was, after all, merely a means to an end.
Still, since explaining it all in detail would be just as troublesome, it was also true that he had hoped Haral would misunderstand. That way, it would be easier for both of them.
However, contrary to what Riyan had thought, Haral was quite serious.
“Judging by your swordsmanship and that gift of gab for sweet-talking nobles, you must have some past with a story behind it. With skills like that, you'd be better off figuring out how to become Champion and get out of the arena. Drop the useless ideas.”
“You kept quiet when we left the Gladiator School, didn't you?”
“Getting a little sponsorship and enjoying a slightly more comfortable life, I'd recommend that too. But the other party is tied to the Minister of Military Affairs, and you're acting like you've hit the jackpot!”
“Is that an order as an Instructor?”
“It's advice for the whelp of a friend I picked up in my old age, you brat.”
“Understood, for now.”
“What?”
It was just as Haral, eyes blazing, was showing his bewilderment.
“So this is where you were.”
A neat voice cut through the quiet conversation.
When they turned their heads toward it, a somewhat older-looking woman with neatly arranged hair was standing there.
She had appeared with maids younger than herself in attendance, and while her attire fell a little short of a noble's, along with an unsullied neatness, her eyes held a trained restraint.
“I am Anna, the Head Maid of this mansion. The Mistress has permitted your visit to the mansion. Please come. I shall escort you.”
Then, without even waiting for an answer, she turned and walked ahead.
At the sight, Riyan looked at Haral and whispered, half in jest.
“Should we back out? We might offend her.”
“Goddamn it. Now that it's come to this, keep your wits about you. Who knows what tricks they'll use to knock our souls right out of us.”
At that resolute and stern expression, Riyan couldn't help but laugh.
***
How long had they walked through the garden, following behind the maid?
At some point, Riyan felt something strange and narrowed his brows.
The warm sunlight pouring down on the garden was the same as before.
However, from the space before his eyes, where the first floor of the mansion should normally have been, a cool and alien Aura was flowing out.
And the source giving off that Aura revealed itself before long.
“What's that……?”
Haral, who had been quietly following behind, muttered under his breath.
Riyan, on the other hand, slowly tilted his head.
What appeared before them was an enormous cylindrical space. The space wasn't physically partitioned, but a misty blue Aura was vividly drawing its boundary.
‘A pillar?’
At a glance, it looked like a pillar made of heat haze.
And that pillar stretched all the way up to the upper floors of the mansion, and the alien Aura was flowing out from it.
“I shall give you a demonstration, so you need only follow along gently. Show them.”
At the Head Maid's words, one of the young maids who had accompanied them paused for a moment, then stepped into the pillar. And at that moment, a bizarre sight unfolded.
The young maid's body began to rise gently, defying gravity. Without any particular procedure, she merely stood still, yet she floated up buoyantly, as if swimming through clear water, and moved toward the upper floors.
When Riyan glanced at Haral, he saw him blinking, his mouth hanging wide open. Judging by that reaction, it wasn't something common even in the Imperial Capital.
‘Magic? Gravity reversal…… artificially concentrated within a limited space.’
It didn't seem to be magic of a level one would use merely as a means of transport. If the Ducal House of Eisenhart had wanted to symbolize the magnitude of the power they held, it was a rather splendid device.
“Please, go inside.”
The Head Maid, having given Riyan and Haral ample time to marvel at the pillar of light, naturally took her place in attendance behind them.
Riyan was the first to step into the pillar, without hesitation.
At that, the sensation he had already anticipated enveloped his whole body. The soles of his feet left the ground, and his body floated up into the air. Along with a pleasant sense of weightlessness, the Aura that had surrounded the pillar of light wrapped around Riyan's body.
“Ugh…… Uwaaagh!”
Haral, on the other hand, flailed his limbs unsightly. The more he struggled, the more his body lost its bearings and twisted this way and that.
Taking his eyes off that pitiful sight, Riyan gazed out at the distant garden. Watching the place he had just walked through grow so far away was a rather strange feeling.
How long had they risen like that?
When they reached the point where the halo of light was fading, the weightlessness began to disappear.
At that, Riyan naturally set his feet on the marble floor that newly appeared before him.
At that moment, a new world pierced his five senses.
“Ahaha! Oh my, really? That person?”
“I said so, didn't I?”
Laughter spilled out that sounded like chirping birds, or perhaps like beads rolling along.
It was coming from the other side, hidden by veils that hung long from the ceiling.
The Head Maid who had guided them naturally stepped back, as though she was not the one who would lift the veil and proceed.
“We shall escort the Instructor separately.”
And the same seemed to apply to Haral.
When the Head Maid, having stepped back, made a stiff gesture, the young maids who had accompanied them seized both of Haral's arms and began leading him away.
“Let's go!”
“……Uh, huh? Ah?”
Making meaningless noises, Haral hastily looked back.
Meeting his gaze, Riyan gave a light shrug, and the maids giggled softly as they gently turned the flustered Haral's chin back around.
“We said you're coming with us, didn't we?”
“T-To where?”
“Oh, come on, does that matter?”
“Uhuh, uhuhuh…….”
With that, Haral crossed the high, long corridor and vanished somewhere, leaving Riyan standing alone.
‘What? Keep my wits about me because who knows what tricks they'll use to knock our souls out of us?’
Shaking his head, Riyan walked toward the veil that the Head Maid, bowing her head respectfully, had drawn aside for him.
What unfolded beyond was an enormous hall. It was so tall that he had to crane his neck all the way back to see the top.
Its walls and ceiling were covered without a gap in intricate murals, and countless narrow, vertically elongated windows were decorated with multicolored stained glass.
What was depicted was not the religious or historical scenes one would commonly imagine.
The fantastical garden that had spread out wide on the first floor.
That garden was cast inside the mansion as well, through the murals and stained glass.
Slowly lowering his gaze, Riyan next swept his eyes over what lay ahead.
The light passing through the windows dyed the enormous hall like a warm sunset glow.
Refreshments were set out on the round tables, and so that they would never run short, servants ceaselessly carried cups and dishes on trays.
Women in splendid yet modest attire held cups and chatted, while musicians positioned in the corners, so as not to disturb them, played fitting music.
‘I don't know what to do with myself.’
However, the moment Riyan appeared, that atmosphere turned to silence.
Dozens of pairs of curious yet arrogant eyes poured onto Riyan all at once. With gazes as if they had discovered an interesting toy.
Before he knew it, the only thing to be heard was the thin playing of the musicians.
Riyan slowly moved forward.
No one had told him where to head, nor had anyone sent him a signal. Everyone was simply, silently, sending their gazes his way.
Nevertheless, Riyan knew where he had to go.
“My…….”
As Riyan walked, someone let out a low exclamation.
It must have been because his gait was cool yet overflowing with dignity.
He was not intimidated even amid the splendor that had swallowed the enormous hall; rather, the achromatic black and white that Riyan bore, set against the splendor, gave off a mysterious air.
Riyan's steps continued.
At the very end of the hall, the seat of honor came into view, set slightly elevated so as to command the gathering, and a woman was seated there with an arrogant bearing.
Behind the seat, an enormous tapestry hung from the ceiling to the floor, and it felt like a giant's cloak.
‘Is that the crest of Eisenhart?’
A lion with a red mane.
The lion in the tapestry was looking down on the gathering with arrogant eyes. It was so intimidating that the faint of heart would find it hard even to meet its eyes.
The same air surrounded the woman seated before the crest.
The woman, dressed in a dark red dress to match her red hair, was resting her chin on her hand and looking at Riyan indifferently.
Just as everyone's gathered gazes were fixed solely on Riyan's lips.
“…….”
Riyan turned around.
Then, leaving the seat of honor behind, he headed to a tea table near the windows, relatively close to the edge. A secluded spot that, considering it was a banquet, could never be considered the center of things.
There, a woman was indifferently turning the pages of a book.
She had been reading by the light pouring through the stained glass, and even though Riyan had come close, she didn't raise her head, keeping her eyes only on the page.
Riyan offered her a light gesture of respect.
“I greet Lady Sevanne Eisenhart.”
Even the faint noise that had lingered inside the hall vanished.
And the finger that had been turning the page stopped as well.