'It's, um… not your acting, really. I just need to handle the situation right now, you get it?'
A wave of guilt washed over me. Some things just couldn't be fixed with effort alone.
Leonardo's voice, when filtered through
Since the original Leonardo's voice had the same quality when using
It was a voice perfectly suited for conveying emotion—though the issue was that he lacked the ability to manipulate it. Too sincere, too straightforward. He couldn't twist meanings or layer them with irony, even if he wanted to.
I wondered what Leovald's voice would sound like in comparison.
Regardless, Leonardo's flat tone must have come off as a form of cynicism, because the nobles nodded in agreement. Now that they had a better grasp of each other's thoughts, they grew bolder, gradually revealing their own intentions.
"So, are you saying that everyone gathered here was denied supplies? Ha, what an amusing coincidence."
The conversation, though still discreet, was growing sharper by the minute.
As they cautiously tested the waters, confirming potential alliances, I casually leaned into Leonardo, lightly nudging his shoulder.
A small gesture of reassurance.
'No need to look so down. Everything's going well, isn't it?'
Whatever cunning or smooth-talking Leonardo lacked, I could easily make up for.
In response, he subtly pressed closer, his thumb grazing the back of my hand in a slow stroke.
A bold move, considering the crowd around us. But he seemed to have figured out that, thanks to the thick cloak and wide sleeves of our formal attire, this level of contact wouldn't easily be noticed.
So, he did know how to be discreet when needed. Maybe he wasn't as clueless as I thought.
Amused, I idly traced the veins along his wrist before spotting an opening in the conversation. Letting go, I stepped forward and smoothly rejoined the discussion.
"If the supply shortages were just a one-time mistake, that would be a relief. But wouldn't it be wiser to prepare for the worst?"
"Indeed. This time, we managed to hold out thanks to Viscount Lopez noticing something was off and slipping us some provisions—but it wasn't much. There are still two more expeditions ahead. We can't afford to struggle with shortages every time."
Lopez, looking slightly miffed, quickly interjected to correct the statement.
"Ahem! It's Count Bermont now!"
Lopez' protest was swiftly drowned out by the flood of hardship stories the other nobles eagerly began sharing.
They spoke of the brutal conditions in the snowy mountains—no grass, all the wild animals hibernating, and with supplies running out, they had been forced to resort to eating monster meat just to survive.
Unfortunately, it was tough, foul-smelling, and practically inedible.
Listening attentively, I let them finish before making a suggestion.
"It seems many of you struggled with the stench and finding the right cuts to eat. Fortunately, I happen to have some knowledge in this area. With the proper treatment, monster meat can actually be quite useful."
"Oh? Really?"
"Of course. Do you happen to have any paper…?"
"I'll find some."
Behind the platform, a heap of monster carcasses was stacked high—a trophy display of the expedition's achievements.
Like sneaking a peek at an answer sheet, I discreetly glanced at the markings hovering over the corpses, revealing entries from the
For now, I focused on the mid-to-small-sized creatures commonly found in the Vernis Mountain Range.
[Usage] Although it is often avoided due to its thick fat layer and strong stench, if the outer skin is thoroughly charred over fire and then peeled off by hand, the remaining meat becomes suitable for consumption… (Read more)
Skipping over weaknesses and ecological details, I carefully selected only the most useful applications.
I pointed to the displayed carcasses, sketched simple diagrams, and wrote down the methods for preparing them as food. When I handed out the notes, the nobles took them as if they were treasures.
They planned to have their attendants copy them down so everyone could share.
Since they were suspicious of Godric—so much so that they barely touched the food or drinks at the banquet—the idea of easier food procurement in the snowy mountains seemed quite welcome.
'As expected, the fastest way to win people over is through their stomachs.'
Leonardo, however, looked strangely disappointed as my survival tips spread among the nobles.
When I asked why, he admitted that he wanted to keep a copy for himself. But since I was right beside him and could teach him anytime, I didn't quite understand why he wanted a scrap of paper so badly.
Yet, he kept eyeing it like a dog that had just lost its bone.
Noticing his gaze, one of the nobles approached, holding the notes.
"And what is this shriveled potato-looking thing?"
Shriveled…
"It's a depiction of a beast," I explained. "This part is the fur, and here—these are the eyes."
"Oh."
The noble awkwardly stepped back, clearly embarrassed.
Meanwhile, Leonardo, flustered, hurried to console me.
「I think it's a simple and effective depiction.」
Yeah, right.
The same guy who had been sulking about his acting skills just moments ago was now trying to comfort me. It was almost comedic.
Either way, the trust level had definitely risen. The arrows hovering above the nobles' heads, which had been lingering at level 2, shot up to level 3.
[Scenario Sub-Quest Condition Achieved! – Persuade the anti-Godric Nobles (1/1)]
With the conversation about supplies and food wrapping up, the nobles began to open up, casually dropping bits of information they knew.
"I heard that during this entire expedition, His Majesty never left the central outpost. They say he took long and frequent afternoon naps—perhaps he caught a cold?"
That was an interesting piece of information I had no way of knowing before.
"And by the way, about that rising noble house making waves this time. Five gold plates in just ten days—whoever they are, they must be quite the powerhouse."
"Who can say for sure? But considering that His Majesty only announced his intent to appoint the leader of this expedition as the new Captain of the Royal Guard after the results of the first campaign were consolidated, that's something worth noting."
"Are you suggesting His Majesty had his eye on that person from the start?"
That was the kind of statement that could make one flinch.
"I swear, for a moment, I thought Sir Leovald had risen from the grave."
"Ah, you mean the Field Commander. Wasn't his funeral rather hastily arranged? I heard it wasn't even held in the capital but in some small free city down south."
It felt like I had been transported back to the early days—those times spent in taverns, listening to village folk gossip and piecing together bits of information.
Of course, back then, the topics were more mundane. A fishmonger overcharging customers, the miller's son sneaking glances at the carpenter's daughter—those kinds of trivial stories.
But now, I was listening to nobles carefully discussing the affairs of an entire kingdom, even whispering about the king himself. It was hard not to feel a sense of change.
"News from the capital tends to get distorted easily—it's difficult to trust entirely."
"There were plenty of rumours that his subordinates refused to believe the Field Commander had died and openly protested."
"And yet, none of them participated in this expedition. Those knights were all seasoned veterans of the field army; they would've handled the monsters with ease… It's a shame that such valuable forces were absent."
"Perhaps they chose not to attend as a gesture of mourning for their commander's death."
'So the fact that the field army knights have been reduced to little more than prisoners, forced to mine dragonbone, remains unknown to them.'
Pieces of the puzzle were beginning to fall into place. Now, the question was—how best to use this to stoke distrust and resistance against Godric?
While I was lost in thought, the script of the scenario came to life through someone's voice.
"Now that I think about it, a few people have gone missing… but strangely, no one seems particularly concerned. One of my retainers vanished as well, and there's no way he would have simply disappeared on his own."
'Here it is.'
Casually, I spoke up.
"I heard some murmurs throughout the banquet—servants tending to clothes, guards stationed at outposts, all disappearing without a trace. Isn't that peculiar? If people were lost on the march or taken by beasts, wouldn't it make more sense for it to be knights in the rear guard or those standing night watch, rather than personal attendants or retainers?"
I stepped toward the fire at the heart of the banquet hall, the flames casting flickering light against the walls. Just as ghost stories were best told by candlelight or campfire, ominous tales always carried more weight in the glow of flames.
Sensing the rising tension among the nobles, I let silence stretch for a moment—just long enough for their thoughts to spiral.
Then, I delivered the final push.
"If you think about it, all the ones who have gone missing were people in our immediate surroundings. The servants who assist with our daily attire, the sentries who stand guard outside our tents through the night, the stable hands who feed our horses… the squires who maintain our swords."
As I subtly shifted the source of fear from an external threat to something within their own ranks, the nobles' unease surfaced naturally.
This was why drawing emotions from others felt so much like playing an instrument. I observed their reactions, carefully adjusting the flow of conversation. Push too hard, and the melody could spiral in an unintended direction.
"I don't believe this is something we can simply overlook. Wouldn't you agree?"
The nobles exchanged glances. Then, one by one, they nodded.
"…It would be wise to be more vigilant."
"Since the calamity, we haven't had many chances to gather like this. But now, thanks to this great hunt, we have. Perhaps this, too, is a kind of fate. I hope we can meet more often."
A small faction had formed, led by Duke Marchez, Count Ertinez, and—no, now Count Bermont, formerly known as Lopez. I had provided the information on the beasts and subtly planted the seeds of doubt, but since I was introduced as a retainer of House Ertinez, the one they would truly remember was Leonardo.
And that was how it should be.
As the banquet came to an end, we each returned to our respective posts.
***
And then, that night.
I climbed on top of Leonardo and pressed my index finger against his lips.
"Shh."
We'll get caught like this!