Chapter Twenty-Two: Hit Me
“That’s right. Lafael is my eldest son, and he’s also your… and Peilo’s older brother. The guy you met yesterday, Pasifal, is our second son, haha.”
Duke Skarlij sat down across from me.
“Unlike that hedonistic brat Pasifal, Lafael has been responsible since childhood, which is why I’ve entrusted him with most of the territories I oversee, most of which are far from Winter City, so he rarely stays at Shanter Castle. But two days ago, I informed him of your visit, so he’s probably on his way back now.”
“……”
Sure enough. Last night’s dream wasn’t just a simple dream; it was a true memory embedded in this body.
If that weren’t the case, how could I have dreamt of someone I had never met but who actually existed?
Since Lafael really is Peilo’s brother, who on earth is that young man who pushed her off the cliff?
If I recall correctly, that guy was named Edward, with the same black hair and eyes. This means he’s also from the Winter Moon family. Furthermore, judging by the information in the dream, Peilo seemed to have trusted him quite a bit—or at least she used to. Yet he deceived her for some reason, ultimately causing her untimely d*ath three years ago.
After three years since then, I woke up in this world and, for some unknown reason, was given Peilo’s identical appearance, even catching glimpses of her memories twice.
Following this line of thought, whether I am Peilo or not, her d*ath must surely be linked to the Abyss. I absolutely have to uncover the truth behind it.
So where to start?
Should I ask the duke about Edward?
…No, that’s not right. There’s a strong chance Edward is also a member of the Valen Empire’s royal family; the implications behind that must be complicated, and the information I currently have is far too scant. Anyway, I’ll be here for a while longer; it wouldn’t hurt to wait and gather more information before I ask.
So it seems like there’s only one direction left to go.
“Duke, is there a cliff around here?”
Duke Skarlij looked a bit confused, seemingly not understanding what I was getting at.
“She’s asking if there’s a cliff near Winter City,” Carlos chimed in while I nodded gently.
“A cliff, huh?” The duke pondered for a moment and continued, “Not nearby, but further out, there are plenty of them. I wonder what Miss Silvya wants to know?”
“A deep one! A very deep cliff! Lots of snowy mounds.”
“Snowy mounds?”
“You mean there are many hills near the cliff, right?” Carlos supplemented.
“Yes.” I nodded again and gave Carlos a thumbs up.
Good job, Carlos! You perfectly interpreted what I meant.
As a subordinate, I’ll grudgingly say you’re qualified—well done.
“The terrain around Winter City is pretty complex. There are countless places like the one you’re talking about.”
Hearing the duke’s response, I desperately tried to recall the dream scenes, attempting to catch any useful information to narrow down the search radius.
After thinking for a while, I realized that the spot where Peilo fell off the cliff had no distinct features; apart from the ubiquitous hills, there didn’t seem to be anything else to serve as a reference point.
I felt a bit discouraged.
Looks like my plan to check out the scene might need to be scrapped; I can’t exactly roam around every cliff near Winter City, can I?
“Little Shay, just say what you want. With your toddler-level expression skills, you probably shouldn’t beat around the bush like an adult, right?”
Upon hearing Carlos, I shot him a murderous glare.
This guy dares to look down on me? I just praised him earlier, ugh, I take back that compliment.
He really seems to enjoy making me mad, doesn’t he?
“Miss Silvya is looking for something, right?” the duke asked.
I pondered for a moment and gently shook my head. The duke seemed to understand that I didn’t want to discuss that topic anymore and didn’t press on.
Unlike his well-tailored outfit from yesterday, the duke was dressed rather casually this time. His simple shirt sleeves were rolled up high, revealing a muscular arm.
That’s when I noticed his left arm was a metal prosthetic! The fingers were sharp blades, dark and glistening with a menacing light, firmly secured by leather straps at the bicep. It certainly looked formidable, even if it couldn’t move normally.
“Hmm? Curious about this?” The duke didn’t mind my gaze and clanged his prosthetic arm down on the table, saying, “Two years ago, during a battle with the Abyss, I accidentally got my left arm in the black mist, so I chopped it off. Hahaha! Carlos was there too; he almost didn’t make it out alive!”
I nodded, indicating I understood, then couldn’t help poking at it.
“Clang—”
The moment my fingertip touched the metal, the five blade fingers snapped out in an alarming fashion, nearly making me jump out of my skin!
After a brief, bewildered pause, I looked at the prosthetic with shining eyes.
“Wow, that’s impressive!”
“Hahaha! Impressive, right? It’s now my favorite weapon!” The duke burst out laughing heartily.
Oh right, weapons.
Angel said Duke Skarlij is the best weapon designer at the central workshop; this is the perfect time to talk to him about what I need.
“Duke, sir…”
“No need to be so formal; just call me… Uncle Skarlij!”
I nodded in acknowledgment.
“Uncle, my weapon.”
“Weapon? Oh, the Pope mentioned something in his letter. Miss Silvya, you’ve come to get a suitable weapon, right?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me, what kind of weapon do you want?”
“I want a scythe,” I said without hesitation.
“A scythe? Are you sure? To be blunt, that’s not the best choice. Sure, there are guys in the Shanter Army who use scythes as weapons, but they are all strong, reliable men.” At this point, the duke glanced at me and smiled, “Look at your little frame… I bet you don’t even weigh a hundred pounds. Don’t you want to consider a rapier or something lighter?”
I firmly shook my head at him.
“Just a scythe.”
“Alright, as you wish—a scythe. Now let’s talk specifics; what kind of scythe do you want?”
I tilted my head, thinking for a moment, then looked at him seriously and said, “Very big, very long, extremely hard.”
“…Can you be a bit more specific?”
I furrowed my brow; wasn’t that specific enough?
“Can pierce through someone two meters away.”
“Uh…” Duke Skarlij twitched his lips, his expression a mix of difficulty and a wry smile.
Carlos covered his face.
“Never mind, I’ll explain. Little Shay used a farming scythe when she fought the Abyss; I think what she needs is a weapon with a wide range of attack to make up for her small stature…”
“Your stature is small!” I punched Carlos in the side, making him raise his hands in surrender.
“Cough, cough, alright, stop messing around; that really hurts… where was I? Oh right, making up for her… ehem, shortcomings.”
“You have shortcomings!” I pretended to hit him again.
This guy is driving me crazy! Is he helping me or mocking me?
“….Do you still want me to say it? Otherwise, you can say it yourself.”
Now that he put it that way, I couldn’t hit him, so I just glared at him in frustration.
“Making up for that—anyway, Duke, I hope you understand what I mean?”
Duke Skarlij glanced at Carlos, then turned back to me with a smile and nodded.
“So, we can set the length and size of the scythe according to the standards of the farming scythe— about two meters should be good. I trust you, Duke, to handle the finer details. As for the material, it should definitely meet the highest standards of the central workshop. And weight… Little Shay, how strong are you?”
How strong am I?
This I hadn’t really considered; I hadn’t tested my strength much lately.
The only thing I can recall is that battle in the little village with the Abyss; I managed to hold off its terrifying black blade that could easily slice rocks with mere tools, even altering its flight path using sheer brute strength.
That can’t be something just anyone could do, right?
Feeling a surge of confidence, I nodded at the two of them.
“Quite strong.”
“Alright, let’s give it a try. Little Shay, with all your strength… no, first try half your strength. Come on, hit me.”
“Mr. Carlos, there are devices in the castle for testing grip and arm strength—let’s get one of those and we’ll know.”
“No need to be so complicated,” Carlos waved his hand at the duke, looking at me. “Little Shay, just hit me.”
“……”
Alright then.
Since you asked so nicely, how could I possibly deny you?
I took a deep breath and raised my little fist toward Carlos.
“Wait! What are you planning to do?”
Carlos jumped aside in a panic, and I shot him a confused look, my strength already primed.
“You told me to hit you.”
“But you can’t just hit my face! Where were you aiming? It’s my face, right?”
…Ugh, he caught me.
I clicked my tongue in annoyance.
“Focus.” This time Carlos was much more cautious, placing his hands together in front of his chest, his legs apart in a standoffish stance. “Aim for my palms.”
I stood up, walked in front of him, raised my fist once more, and swung it with a faint whoosh.
“Bang—”
Carlos staggered back, his feet momentarily leaving the ground. He hurriedly steadied himself, the soles of his shoes screeching against the ground, then ‘bam’ he crashed into the wall behind him.
“Sss—” Carlos kept shaking his hands, hissing at the pain.
“Who told you to hit me with so much force?”
“I didn’t use force.”
“Bull! You think I’ll believe that?”
I huffed, ignoring him, and returned to my seat, giving the bewildered duke an innocent look.
“How do you have so much strength? How could your physical ability reach this level?”
“I woke up like this.”
