Chapter 122.2
Even now, knights sworn to House Felton were surely fighting in the North.
‘That must be the case…’
No matter how skilled the Empire was at dealing with monsters, it was impossible that there were no wounded or dead.
Even Benjamin himself had grown so accustomed to facing monsters that he could read hostile presences almost instinctively.
“Still, once they’re processed, it’s manageable. The Felton knights as well. It’s all in service of the Empire, after all.”
“Even if it’s for a good cause, that doesn’t mean it isn’t difficult.”
Grace rolled her eyes slightly, then gently took Benjamin’s hand.
“If the Saintess were able to go north and eliminate the monsters, would that be a good thing for you, Your Grace?”
“Haha, if that were possible, it would be wonderful. But there’s no record of a Saintess ever fighting monsters directly, so who knows if it could even be done.”
Thinking about it, commanding the knights stationed in the North would normally be Benjamin’s responsibility. And yet, he was here.
‘Because of me…’
Because her condition had been unstable for so long.
The thought weighed heavily on her. She felt guilty. What if Benjamin was only forcing himself to appear cheerful when he was with her?
“D-Duke! Duchess! We’ve tidied things up enough, please come in!”
The artificer flung the door open and called out. Beyond it was a staircase leading underground. Despite that, the path downward wasn’t dark.
‘But what is this feeling…?’
As Grace descended, a strange sense of déjà vu crept over her. It was something she had felt before.
‘That fog?’
If the raw materials were the source, then a similar sensation made sense. Still, it felt subtly different and above all, there was no visible fog.
‘It’s fine. I brought the pendulum just in case. I don’t need to use my power here.’
“This way.”
A surprisingly large space opened up underground. Normally, she would have been impressed by the sheer scale. But something else caught her attention instead.
‘Why is that here?’
Why was that stone here? As Grace stared at it, the artificer explained,
“What you’re looking at, Duchess, is a mana stone whose magic has been completely depleted.”
“…That is?”
“Yes. Once all magic is exhausted, a mana stone looks just like an ordinary rock, unlike other mana stones.”
As he spoke, the artificer gestured to another area. There, several mana stones of different colors were displayed. Clear and jewel-like, they looked almost like gemstones.
“For reasons we don’t yet understand, mana stones vary in color. But once they’re fully spent, they all turn this same pale, nondescript shade.”
“…That’s fascinating.”
Grace struggled to keep her expression neutral.
She had seen this before.
No, she was carrying one right now.
‘A holy stone.’
Why was this here? And why was it being called a depleted mana stone? Others might be fooled, but not her.
‘What… is going on?’
“And this is the finishing material made by grinding down those stones.”
A bottle filled with a murky liquid was held out to her.
‘There’s no energy at all.’
Yet she had clearly felt an unpleasant presence from the furniture coated with this material.
‘Was that really just my imagination? That can’t be.’
Benjamin had personally received and delivered the furniture. No one could have swapped anything along the way, it had to be from the Magic Tools Association.
‘Then why does it feel completely inert here?’
“It seems you’re quite interested, Duchess.”
“I just find it amazing that simply applying this makes furniture sturdier. Is that why the fireplaces can burn so strongly without leaving any soot?”
That wasn’t the real reason, but it was a convenient excuse.
“Oh, fireplaces are a bit different. Those bricks are made entirely from spent mana stones themselves.”
Grace recalled the density of the fog clinging to the furniture in the annex.
‘Ah… that explains it.’
The correlation between the fog’s intensity and the material was now undeniable. Setting that aside, why she felt nothing here.
“This was very helpful. Thank you for taking such care on my behalf.”
“It’s nothing at all. It would be an honor if you continued using furniture made by the Magic Tools Association.”
‘They want me to keep using it.’
Not approval, not evaluation, just continued use. That alone meant this had been the goal from the start.
Both the Temple and the Magic Tools Association wanted Grace Felton dead. She formed that assumption and then followed it to its next conclusion.
‘Then their objectives must be roughly aligned.’
House Felton. Grace recalled Benjamin’s path in the original story.
After her death, Benjamin Felton had gone mad. Losing all trust, all support, everything he had built.
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