Reputation.
It was a system that existed in the original game as well.
It was a stat unlocked upon reaching a certain degree of affinity with a faction, and special events could occur depending on how high one’s Reputation was.
“This feels like a bit of a loss.”
It was a reward I had obtained after taking the risk of being exposed in front of everyone.
If it performed the same way it had in the game, I might be a little disappointed.
“So you are aware of it, too. The tea leaves that went into this tea were indeed wasted.”
Luciana seized upon the remark that had slipped out of my mouth with frightening speed.
-CLACK.
The glass and its saucer struck each other with a harsh sound.
“At this rate, I would be better off brewing it myself.”
“My apologies.”
“Tea service is a basic duty of an attendant. Strive to improve from now on.”
Fortunately, without further questioning, she slowly drank the tea she had so harshly condemned as tasteless.
Is that because of the Affection rating?
Apparently, the status of Trust was not a lie. To think she could let a verbal slip pass so generously.
The immediate crisis was over. It was time to check the details of the reward in the Status Window.
[Skills]
[A-Grade: Double Reputation]
[A Phantom Thief must thoroughly distinguish their ordinary identity from their identity as a thief. A Phantom Thief who fails to do so will be caught and lose their head. —Moon Crow, the Legendary Phantom Thief]
[Your Reputation is split between ‘Hans Byron’ and ‘Frost Mane’.]
[Each Reputation can be applied separately.]
“…Oh, this is better than I expected.”
“You do not truly think that tea tastes good, do you?”
“No, of course not. I need to improve.”
Oops. Watch your mouth.
The skill had an unusual effect—enough for an exclamation to slip out without my realizing it.
Originally, Reputation was an unfair system where choosing one thing meant giving up another.
For example, even if I achieved great feats as a mercenary, that Reputation would be treated as nothing more than a trivial rumor everywhere except the North, where soldiers were urgently needed.
On the other hand, the situation changed if I earned a notorious reputation as a criminal.
There was a penalty in that my activities would be restricted in most regions, but in the West’s criminal underworld, where criminals were abundant, I could receive useful information that was hard to obtain elsewhere or be offered worthwhile jobs.
That was why the job one chose and the deeds one committed were such important elements in this game.
But things were different with this.
The benefits I could gain through Frost Mane’s notoriety as a Phantom Thief were limitless.
I could obtain information from the Thieves’ Guild that would otherwise be available only to high-ranking nobles, and it would also help me recover hidden pieces in the West and the capital later on.
And as long as I was not exposed, the penalties that came with a criminal’s notoriety were practically nonexistent.
The A-Grade label was not wasted on this skill at all.
“That Phantom Thief called Frost Mane has some nerve as well. To commit theft against a noble in the North of all places.”
She folded the newspaper and looked toward the rack of swords.
“If he had fallen into my hands, I would have summarily executed him.”
…Pardon? What was that supposed to mean?
Luciana showing such a severe side was one thing, but it also went against both Hans Byron’s common sense and the setting I remembered from the game.
“Are criminals not normally sent to the West?”
The Empire treated criminals consistently.
Habitual thieves, con artists, and serial killers alike. Though their sentences differed, most were sent to the magic-stone mines.
There were only two exceptions.
Either it was a minor crime that could be settled with a fine, or it was a crime deemed worthy of execution in this age.
“It seems you need to study the North more.”
As if asking whether I did not even know that much, Luciana gave a quiet laugh and continued.
“Because this is a region frequently at war with demonkind, the treatment of criminals is stricter here than in other regions. Everything is decided at the discretion of the noble who captures them.”
…I absolutely cannot get caught.
Just as the skill description said, I would really lose my head.
“It is almost time for your next appointment. We should get up now.”
“Is my break already over? What is next?”
“Hunting.”
“Good. It is practically an extension of my rest. Lead the way.”
There was something I had naturally learned while attending to Luciana over the past few days: she quite enjoyed activities that used her body.
“This time, I hope we catch prey more impressive than a Diawolf. A yeti, perhaps.”
How could I fail to notice when she was already counting her catches before she had even set foot in the hunting grounds, brimming with anticipation?
Whenever etiquette or history lessons approached, her brow would faintly crease. She had personally demonstrated that being good at something and enjoying it were entirely different matters.
“Pardon me, but we will only be hunting wild animals near the duchy.”
Why was she talking about yetis? A creature that had claimed a spot among the Three Great Monsters of the North through sheer strength was not some easy punching bag.
“Since we will not have guards with us, please be especially careful today. Absolutely no hunting monsters that were not part of the plan.”
She tossed out a single line as though I had said something absurd.
“Are you truly the same man who persuaded me to go into a Diawolf den without guards or knights?”
Well, that had been entirely manageable.
The Diawolves’ danger lay in their collective strength, and I knew exactly how to counter it.
“Either is fine. Hunting has its own pleasures as well.”
Instead of the greatsword and rapier she usually used, she reached for a dagger—and an unexpected weapon.
“You know how to use a bow as well?”
“I can handle one well enough not to embarrass myself before others.”
It had occupied a prominent place in one corner of this room, yet until recently I had suspected it was merely decorative.
That was because she had never used one in the original story, not even once.
“You do not seem very interested. I thought archery was a tool commonly used not only in the North but in other regions as well. Is the West different?”
She was right.
Hunting was an amusement that transcended regions, where one pursued living animals, gained trophies, and felt a sense of accomplishment.
Naturally, any noble should have known how to use a bow, the tool most often used for hunting.
“Unfortunately, archery is not one of my strengths.”
Who could just pick up a bow and shoot it?
With Strength at 2, drawing the string was an insurmountable hurdle.
“Hm. That is unexpected.”
Without a word, Luciana drew the bowstring without an arrow several times, miming a shot.
“Should not an attendant who serves me at least be able to shoot a bow? If you wish, I can teach you.”
“It would be an honor.”
Strictly speaking, it was a way to cultivate refinement by learning one of the nobles’ pastimes.
Though there was a small selfish desire mixed in as well. How could I resist learning archery directly from my favorite character?
-Whine.
“Fride, I will take you along later.”
Leaving Fride, who was whimpering as he searched for his master, behind, Luciana slung the bow across her back.
“Prepare the horses. I will teach you carefully once we reach the hunting grounds.”
***
He has no talent.
One hour after arriving at the hunting grounds, Luciana forced down the sigh welling inside her.
“Ugh… This string is incredibly stiff!”
To think he had stumbled at the very first step: drawing the bowstring.
From aligning his gaze with the bow and prey to knowing that aiming for the legs was more efficient than aiming for the neck, every part of the lesson plan she had prepared needed to be tossed into the trash.
Normally, she would have trusted in his shamelessness and at least reproached him for it, but seeing him struggle so hard, she could not even bring herself to do that.
“Whew, I guess this is not going to work. It was too much after all. The equipment is just too poor.”
Correction.
Seeing him shrug and toss aside the North’s military bow, there was no reason to hold back.
“I have heard that a good writer does not care which pen he uses.”
“That is a complete lie. Tools have a great effect on people. A good pen gives a writer good thoughts. How much more so would a bow?”
He would be better off saying nothing.
But a laugh escaped her as she watched Hans, whose shamelessly thick-skinned manner and glib tongue had become familiar to her.
“Enough. What kind of training can there be when you cannot even draw the string properly? Just remember my posture carefully and imitate it later.”
It was a rare chance to hunt. And since her attendant was watching, she could not afford to be careless.
Fortunately, there was a fine target in the sky.
“Do you see that flock of birds?”
“…Birds? I am not sure. I can see five dots.”
The flock was gliding clearly through the sky, though even for Luciana, it was somewhat far away.
“You could find Diawolf fur in the snow, yet you cannot see that?”
“Ah, haha. Seeing something far away and distinguishing similar colors are two entirely different skills.”
Hans scratched the back of his head as though embarrassed.
Was it because he was from the West that he did not know?
She knew from long experience that they were migratory birds that descended south only during their breeding season.
“Watch closely. The one in front is the leader.”
She nocked an arrow.
Beyond the string drawn tightly to her cheek, the target glided leisurely through the sky, unaware that it was being aimed at.
“The moment that one leading the long-distance flight falls is the moment the prey becomes a disorganized rabble.”
Emptiness settled in the hand that had held the arrow.
At the same time, one dot gradually grew larger, and before long, a fairly large bird fell at her feet.
The other four dots, having lost their leader, flew about in every direction in a panic.
If she fired again once they had tired themselves out, she would be able to hunt them easily.
“What do you think? How was my shooting?”
Suddenly, she wondered what Hans’s reaction would be.
What would he make of the rather splendid shot she had just made?
Like everyone else, would he look at her with admiration and longing?
Would he conceal the envy and jealousy that only a wastrel like Dmitri might feel?
Or would he offer the loyal praise that servants naturally gave, like Yegor?
“Wow. That was truly incredible.”
But even as he clapped and praised her, there was none of the emotion Luciana had expected in his eyes.
“…Hm?”
“What is it?”
Luciana could not hide her momentary confusion at the unfamiliar look in his eyes.
No, strictly speaking, she had seen that look before.
It had been from the exact same person, during the Diawolf hunt.
“I suppose it was not all that surprising to you.”
“What are you talking about? I simply thought it was something you'd be capable of, my lady.”
It was, metaphorically speaking, trust as steadfast as steel that had remained firm through the passing years.
…What is this?
Luciana did not have the leisure to discern the nature of the ticklish feeling gnawing at her heart.
“That is a fine catch. I wonder when I will be able to catch prey like that.”
Watching Hans gather up the birds she had hunted, she tried to soothe the vague unease stirred by her own feelings.