The Song of Flowers - Chapter 2: The Heir of the Lord (3)

“You’re lucky you didn’t lose it while you were out drinking. That’s our mother’s keepsake, and you’re just carelessly dropping it?”

“Hey, you’re talking to your older brother here. Show some respect,” Leon grumbled.

“Are you still half asleep?” Ron retorted.

Julio watched the brothers bicker, thinking they looked like puppies play-fighting. He had known them since they were boys and had never seen them have a serious fight. They were truly close brothers.

Other than the color of their eyes, the two brothers looked nothing alike, yet they were fiercely protective of each other. Julio never doubted that either of them would willingly lay down their life for the other.

He sometimes wondered what it would be like to have someone by your side you could trust with your life, someone you wouldn’t hesitate to die for. As an orphan, Julio often found himself envying them.

“Hey, Leon. You feeling better yet? Come do this job with me,” Julio said, glancing at Leon before turning to Ron. “The client needs one of you two. If you don’t take the job, Leon will. And you know he’ll take it.”

Leon, still sprawled on the sofa, lazily raised a hand.

“How much is it paying?”

“The job’s easy, but the pay is top-tier.”

“Whoa! I’m in. Definitely doing it,” Leon said, a grin spreading across his face.

Julio shot Ron a smug look, but Ron’s scowl deepened.

“Easy job, top-tier pay? Sounds like a scam.”

“There’s no catch, I swear! Although, if Leon does it, the difficulty might go up. If you do it, Ron, it’ll probably stay easy.”

Ron glared even harder as Julio quickly stood up.

He never lets anything go easily, does he? Julio thought, shaking his head.

The two brothers were as different in personality as they were in appearance. Leon acted like the carefree, youngest sibling, while Ron had always been more serious, never showing any weakness.

“Let’s go, we can talk on the way. We’re running out of time. The client’s a noblewoman. You know we can’t keep nobles waiting, right?”

Ron sighed but stood up. As much as he hated the idea, Julio was right—they couldn’t be late for the meeting. Nobles hated wasting time on mercenaries, and even showing up late could offend them enough to cause problems. Nobles had the power to do anything on a whim, and mercenaries had no way to fight back against their arrogance.

“Ron!”

As Ron reached for the door handle, Leon called out. Ron turned just in time to catch something tossed his way—it was the ring again.

“What’s this, Leon?” Ron asked, puzzled.

Leon grinned lazily.

“Keep it. Knowing me, I’ll probably lose it again.”

“So, now it’s my job to look after it?”

“Well, your mom was my mom too. If I lose it and regret it later, it won’t help either of us, right?”

Clicking his tongue, Ron slipped the ring into his pocket. Knowing Leon, he probably would lose it again.

“Make sure you take that job. If you don’t, I will!” Leon shouted as Ron closed the door behind him.

***

On their way to the meeting with the client, Julio kept trying to calm Ron down.

“It’s not as bad as you think. From what I’ve heard, a noblewoman needs a bodyguard. But you might have to pretend to be a knight.”

“Pretend to be a knight? You’re setting me up for trouble,” Ron grumbled.

While impersonating a knight wasn’t an immediate death sentence, it would certainly land him in a dungeon—and that was a place few people ever left alive. The real knights would never let a mercenary get away with such a thing.

“If the employer’s a noble, who cares? If they introduce you as a knight, who’s going to question it?” Julio countered.

“Julio…”

“Just hear them out first. You’ve got the mannerisms and behavior down already—you’d pull it off perfectly. Plus, you know noble etiquette.”

Since learning about Ron’s ability to navigate dealings with nobles, the leader of their mercenary band always made sure to bring Ron along for such meetings. One time, the leader had even sent Ron to accompany a noblewoman to a private party as her partner. It was a hedonistic, decadent affair, and Ron had barely escaped an unsavory situation. Afterward, he’d gone straight to punch the leader in the face. Julio had laughed himself silly when he heard the story.

“…If this is anything like that, I’m not doing it,” Ron warned.

“Alright, alright,” Julio said, raising his hands in mock surrender.

The meeting place was a high-end tavern frequented by nobles and wealthy merchants. They were led to a private room, where they waited for a few minutes. When the door finally opened, Julio and Ron exchanged a glance.

Julio looked shocked. What they had been told did not match reality. Ron could tell from Julio’s expression that he too had been deceived. They both clenched their teeth at the same time.

That damned leader…

The person who entered wasn’t a noblewoman. Two people in gleaming white robes walked in—Haran wizards.

Ron and Julio tensed up immediately.

On the continent, wizards were generally seen as little more than lowly conjurers. But that had changed once the wizards from Haran began traveling across the continent, raising the status of magic. People who had witnessed their mysterious powers spread rumors, but the real reason was political. Haran had contracts with most countries on the continent, granting their wizards diplomatic status. They had immunity from local laws, and their movements were unrestricted. Nobles couldn’t treat them lightly, and to commoners, Haran wizards were like nobles themselves.

“I owe you an apology first,” said the older woman in the white robe.

“Because this job requires secrecy, we had to mislead you about the nature of the request. The noblewoman you were told about was acting on my behalf.”

“If we find that we can’t accept the job after hearing more, can we decline?” Ron asked, wanting to know if they truly had a choice. The wizards seemed surprised that the younger man was taking the lead.

“You’re the one in charge?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ron looked at Julio, who nodded.

“Yes, I am,” Ron confirmed.

“Of course, you may decline. This is simply a request, after all. But I do hope you’ll agree to help.”

“I’ve heard you already paid an advance,” Ron said.

“That’s irrelevant. Since you weren’t informed of the full details, you’re under no obligation,” she replied smoothly.

At least they’re reasonable, Ron thought. Haran wizards, unlike nobles, didn’t seem to act with arrogance. This was already preferable to the idea of serving a noblewoman.

“Tell us what you need, and we’ll decide,” Ron said.

The older wizard, Deborah, nodded and studied the two young men. They were unlike any mercenaries she had encountered before. Most mercenaries, who made their living through rough and dangerous work, had a certain harshness about them. But these two didn’t appear brutish, nor did they have that air of desperation or arrogance that many carried.

“You must be the wizard,” Deborah said, turning her gaze to Julio.

On this continent, wizards were nearly extinct. After the rise of Haran’s magic towers, most remaining local wizards had fled to Haran. There were hardly any left outside of the country, and those who remained barely knew more than simple tricks.

Deborah had been intrigued when she heard there was a capable mercenary wizard.

“If you don’t mind, could you show me a demonstration of your magic?” she asked politely.

“Of course.”

Julio could sense how powerful the elderly woman in front of him was. Normally, he would curse at anyone who demanded a display of his magic, but he found himself responding obediently.

Julio raised his right hand.

“I’ll show you something simple,” he said.

As Julio concentrated, a light began to form in his hand. The small glow gradually grew larger and brighter, turning from white to blue, until small particles of water coalesced in his palm.

The ball of water grew from a tiny droplet to the size of a fist, and soon, it expanded to the size of a person’s head.

Ron’s eyes widened in surprise as he watched. He knew Julio was a wizard, but he had never seen him display such powerful magic before. The usually flippant Julio suddenly seemed like someone else entirely.

“That’s enough,” Deborah said, smiling in satisfaction. Even the other wizard in the room couldn’t hide his surprise.

Julio clenched his raised hand, and the large ball of water dispersed, vanishing in an instant.

“Where did you learn your magic?” Deborah asked.

“I taught myself,” Julio replied.

“A genius,” Deborah murmured.

She had been called a genius from a young age, but this young man was a true prodigy.

“Why didn’t you come to Haran? Even now, if you wish to join us, I’d be happy to write you a recommendation letter.”

Julio gave her an awkward smile.

“If you receive proper training, you could become an extraordinary wizard,” Deborah added, her eyes full of admiration.

“Ahem,” the robed man cleared his throat.

“Oh, right. The conversation veered off course,” Deborah said, smiling. “But important matters shouldn’t be delayed. Do you have a writing tool?”

The robed man pulled out a rolled-up parchment and a quill from a pocket inside his robe. Unlike ordinary writing tools, those used by wizards were specially crafted to register magical signatures.

Deborah took the quill and began writing on the parchment. As the quill moved across the surface, glowing letters appeared without the need for ink. After finishing, she signed the parchment, rolled it up, and handed it to Julio.

The robed man beside her swallowed nervously. He wondered if Julio understood just how valuable that letter of recommendation was.

Julio stared at the parchment in front of him, hesitant to even touch it. He couldn’t grasp its full value, but he sensed that the wizard’s favor was far greater than anything he deserved.

“This is just a small gesture of goodwill,” Deborah said. “Whether you use it or not is entirely up to you. Think of it as a sort of bribe for accepting the job. I’ll need your magic for the task.”

Julio carefully put the parchment in his pocket. He couldn’t refuse the wizard’s offer, especially when she went so far as to call it a bribe to ease his discomfort. Bowing slightly, he expressed his gratitude.

“Now, let’s get to the main issue,” Deborah said.

“Before that,” the robed man interjected, looking at Ron and Julio. “We need to check your belongings. We want to ensure you don’t have any magical items that could record our conversation.”

Ever since Haran wizards had become widespread on the continent, magical items had grown more popular—though only the wealthy could afford them. Such items were far too expensive for ordinary mercenaries to carry.

Without protest, Ron and Julio placed their belongings on the table. It wasn’t uncommon to be searched when meeting clients.

Julio’s possessions were modest: a pouch of money and a small dagger. Ron, however, had a much larger arsenal. Starting with the sword at his waist, he placed several daggers on the table, including one hidden at his ankle and another in the wrist guard he wore. The weapons piled up, leaving Julio staring in disbelief.

“Where do you keep all that stuff?” Julio muttered, exasperated.

Ron added a leather harness with throwing knives, then suddenly remembered the ring in his pocket. He took it out and placed it on the table.

Deborah, who had been watching the mercenaries disarm with mild interest, was immediately drawn to the black ring.

“May I take a closer look at that?” she asked.

Ron nodded, and Deborah picked up the ring, inspecting it carefully.

“This has magic on it. Were you aware of that?”

“…No,” Ron replied.

“It’s a complicated enchantment. But don’t worry, it’s not dangerous. Let’s see…” she murmured, rubbing her chin thoughtfully before snapping her fingers.

“Watch this,” she said, bringing the ring close to her finger as if she were about to slip it on. But she stopped, unable to proceed.

“I can’t put this on, even if I wanted to. There’s a strong resistance,” she explained.

“May I try?” Julio asked, intrigued. He took the ring and tried to slip it onto his finger, but just like Deborah, he felt a force blocking him.

“It seems only someone with the right qualifications can wear it,” Deborah mused. “Can you tell us where this ring came from?”

“It was my mother’s… a keepsake,” Ron answered.

“A meaningful object, then. Can you put it on?” Deborah asked.

“I’ve never tried.”

“You might be able to. It seems the magic reacts to a specific lineage or energy,” Deborah noted.

“Is that possible with magic?” Julio asked. The robed man beside Deborah also looked curious, waiting for her answer.

“As I said, it’s a complicated spell. It requires a highly complex magical formula, a large amount of power, and time. Since it’s not particularly practical, very few would bother attempting it. If it were simple, every valuable object in the world would have a spell to identify its rightful owner. The cost of the magic far outweighs the value of most items.”

“Ron, try it on. Let’s see if it works,” Julio urged, handing the ring to him. Ron hesitated, staring at the ring with a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.

“What are you waiting for? Just put it on,” Julio insisted.

With a sigh, Ron took the ring and brought it to his finger, expecting to feel the same resistance that Deborah and Julio had. But as he slid the ring over the first joint of his finger, nothing stopped him. The ring passed smoothly all the way onto his finger.

“Oh, it worked!” Julio exclaimed, eyes wide with astonishment. But Ron was more than just surprised—he was utterly confused.

Why…? he thought, unable to understand why the ring had accepted him so easily.

Deborah observed him closely, her interest piqued by the ring on his finger. However, she had more pressing matters to discuss.

“Well, I suppose we should finally get to the real issue. We’ve spent enough time on this,” she said.

Ron put the ring back in his pocket and turned his attention to the conversation at hand.

“You’ve likely heard about the tragic incident involving a viscount’s family nearby,” Deborah began.

“You mean the family killed by a mysterious beast?” Ron asked.

“Yes.”

The streets were still patrolled by soldiers in the wake of the massacre. Though the viscount’s family wasn’t particularly prominent, they were still nobility, and the gruesome nature of the event had left the region shaken. For a while, no one dared to go out after dark.

“While it’s widely believed that the entire family was killed, that’s not quite true. The youngest son of the household disappeared. And over the past several years, similar disappearances have been happening across the continent,” Deborah continued.