Chapter 23: Chapter 23: Purple Eyes

Standing outside the door were a bard and a witch.

As I had seen earlier when entering the city, the bard was breathing as if hyperventilating, eyes shut tight.

It looked like an invisible hand was gripping his throat.

Dorthe stood beside him, clearly not expecting me to open the door.

She was so startled that she quickly covered her mouth with her hands.

It seemed like she was trying to stop herself from screaming.

But despite her efforts, a faint sound escaped from behind her fingers.

"What are you doing?"

I asked, and Dorthe pressed her hands even harder against her lips.

The sight of her trying to swallow her scream was a bit comical.

She glanced briefly at the bard and then raised a finger to her lips, signaling me to stay quiet.

As she stepped into the room, she pushed me further inside.

Uh… What on earth are you doing, witch?

I'm not the kind of man to get pushed around by a woman, but her sudden actions caught me off guard.

When I stepped back into the room, Dorthe carefully closed the door behind her without making a sound.

"If we're too loud, Muel might wake up. We need to be quiet."

"... So, what were you two doing outside my door?"

"We were gathering courage."

"..."

I didn't quite understand what she meant.

I furrowed my brow, and Dorothea sighed softly.

"Muel, you see, is trying to muster the courage to kill you. But stepping forward is proving to be incredibly difficult. No matter how much he tries, the mere thought of standing before you to act makes him feel suffocated, and his limbs begin to tremble uncontrollably."

Hey, am I supposed to stand here and listen to this?

I could feel my eyebrows rising slightly.

Dorothea glanced up at me, and then pointed at her own brow.

"Here, you're frowning. You'll get wrinkles if you keep doing that. My mentor always told me—"

She stopped mid-sentence, as if she had said too much.

I wasn’t sure why she was so shaken at the mention of her mentor.

Suddenly, I remembered the bard by the city gate, standing with his eyes closed, and the realization dawned on me.

"So, was that why he was standing there like that at the gate?"

"Yes… He was training himself, waiting for your return."

"..."

"He’s managed to stand in front of you with some semblance of composure, but as soon as he thinks about killing you, your possible reaction terrifies him so much that he can't move. At first, just the thought of it made him unable to breathe, and he almost died instead."

Is that even possible?

Can you really die just from thinking too much?

Unconsciously, I tilted my head in disbelief.

"I've heard your mother was a very frightening woman. People say an ordinary person dies the moment they lay eyes on her."

"What kind of nonsense is that?"

She’s not some Medusa. She doesn't shoot lasers from her eyes. Even if her face is fierce, she’s just a regular person.

I sighed, and Dorothea glanced around the room before looking above my head.

She tiptoed slightly, likely trying to see if Rella, the phoenix, was perched there.

Surely, this witch isn’t after my phoenix, is she?

Suspicious, I watched her closely as she turned and began wandering around the room.

She moved aimlessly, like she was dancing, tapping her feet lightly as she passed by the bed, the corners of the room, the window. She didn’t seem to have any particular goal.

As she walked past me without looking, she spoke casually, as though it was nothing.

"Thank you for earlier."

"..."

She must be talking about stopping those men from taunting her.

"It was nothing. I only did it because I was in a bad mood."

"Hmm… Even so, I’m still grateful."

After saying that, Dorthe turned her head slightly to glance at me.

"A witch never forgets a favor. Just as she never forgets a grudge."

"..."

"One day, I’ll repay this kindness. I promise."

"If you go around repaying every small favor, you'll never get anything done."

"That’s not true. No one helps a witch or a dancer without expecting something in return."

"..."

"There’s always a price for kindness."

With that, she opened the door.

It seemed she had come in just to say those few words.

Dancers and witches are not likely to be welcomed in this world.

I’m not in a position to talk, but her life as a woman must be even harder than mine.

I felt a little sorry for her, seeing how grateful she was for such a small gesture.

The bard was still breathing heavily outside, in the same position as before. In the darkness, his face seemed to have turned a shade of blue. Could he really be suffocating?

“Muel… the enemy has fled… they ran away, afraid of you… You did well… You did so well… Now go back to your room… You need to gather your strength again…”

Dorthe whispered soothingly, and the bard finally opened his eyes.

But it seemed like he wasn’t entirely present in the real world.

He looked at my room as if he were seeing something in a dream, smiled faintly, and turned away.

Dorthe waved at me as she followed after him.

"A fly buzzing around…"

Her words from earlier echoed in my mind.

It seems that, like flies, the two of them will continue circling around me for a while.

At some point, Rella had jumped onto my bed, hopping around.

Was she playing some imaginary game of chase with an unseen enemy?

I’ll never understand what goes on in that bird’s head.

When I flopped down onto the straw mattress, Rella quickly leaped onto my stomach.

She squirmed around for a while, finding a comfortable spot, then dozed off.

Not long after, I too drifted into sleep.

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In my dreams, a fly with the face of a witch buzzed around me, persistently reminding me that she would repay her debt.

Even in my sleep, I found it annoying—and somehow, I think I laughed at the absurdity.

----------------------------------------

Information is everything.

And in this case, the subject is a person, with a face so distinctive, someone is bound to recognize him.

Perhaps a great many people will.

‘If I don’t hurry, someone else might snatch the opportunity from me.’

Max’s mind raced with urgency.

The first thing he did was rent a carriage, paying a hefty price.

Sure, horses might be faster, but Max was an ordinary man. He couldn’t gallop on horseback through the night without stopping. It would be dangerous, and he would need to sleep somewhere along the way.

To save time, the only option was to rent a carriage with a coachman. It cost a fortune, but there was no other choice.

Better to spend the money now than regret missing a golden opportunity for the rest of his life.

Max travelled from one city to another by renting a series of carriages, moving as quickly as he could.

By the time he arrived in the capital, he was an absolute mess, having gone days without properly washing.

He wanted to rush straight to his destination, but he was heading to the Duke’s estate. Even with important information, if you didn’t look the part, they wouldn’t even let you past the front gate.

Recalling the first time he had been turned away by a noble when trying to sell information, Max forced himself to calm his nerves.

Though he had sold information to the Duke’s household several times, showing up unkempt would get him rejected immediately.

Even the servants of the Duke's household acted arrogantly, as if they were nobility themselves.

Max cleaned himself up as best he could, scrubbing his body with hot water and taking extra care with his hair.

He chose the finest clothes he owned—ones he wore specifically for meeting nobles. Though they might all look the same to a noble, once he slicked back his hair with fragrant oil, the result was at least somewhat presentable.

By the time he was ready, several hours had passed, and the sky was already beginning to darken.

‘Will they even see me at this hour?’

It was a bit concerning, but there was no time to waste. If he delayed any longer, the value of his information might diminish.

‘At the very least, I can probably arrange a meeting for tomorrow.’

With that thought, Max called for another rented carriage and headed to the Duke’s estate.

The Duke's manor was the second largest estate in the city, second only to the royal palace itself.

The noble district, where estates like this one were located, was separate from the areas where commoners lived. Getting into that district was no simple task.

There was a heavily guarded gate that led to the noble district, and without the proper papers, you couldn’t even get close to the Duke’s manor.

Max presented the pass he had been given from a previous visit.

Security was tighter as night fell, but as soon as he showed the pass issued by the Duke’s household, he was allowed through.

Despite his haste, by the time he reached the Duke’s estate, the sky had grown completely dark.

‘I might not be able to see anyone tonight.’

Growing anxious, Max urged the coachman to hurry.

Instead of the grand front entrance, he headed for a side gate, where he knew the household staff and stewards entered.

Though Max didn’t know everything about the estate, it was vast—so much so that it was practically a small town. There were multiple entrances.

The gate Max was approaching was the one used primarily by the estate’s managers.

A guard stood watch at the gate.

Max stepped down from the carriage and presented his pass.

A steward emerged from inside.

Though Max referred to him as a steward in his mind, his official title was probably something far more dignified.

In fact, his attire was finer than anything Max could ever afford.

To a commoner, the man could easily be mistaken for a noble himself, and perhaps he truly was of noble birth.

"Good evening, it’s been a while. I'm Max, the information broker."

“You’ve come rather late.”

The steward glanced at him with thinly veiled contempt.

He knew Max came from the slums, and his disdain was evident in his expression.

Max gave a sheepish grin and bowed his head.

"Apologies. The information I’ve gathered is incredibly urgent, so I rushed here as quickly as I could. It concerns Helga."

"Very well. I’ll arrange a meeting for tomorrow or the day after."

"I’m truly sorry, but this is incredibly important."

"..."

The steward’s eyebrows shot up, clearly displeased with Max’s insistence.

Sensing the growing irritation, Max quickly blurted out, “Please, I beg you. Just mention the words ‘purple eyes.’”

“Purple eyes?”

“Yes, if you simply mention that, they’ll understand…”

Max was about to continue, but the steward raised his hand, silencing him.

"Very well, come in."

"Ah… thank you."

Max bowed deeply and followed the steward inside.

‘Purple eyes are that important, huh?’

Though the steward’s attitude hadn’t softened, the moment Max mentioned the purple eyes, he had been let in immediately. This reaction must have been prearranged.

It was a good decision to come to the Duke’s estate first.

Even though it was a side entrance, it took a long time to reach the main building from there.

Compared to the distance from the front gate to the manor, it was nothing, but it still wasn’t a short walk.

Since outsiders couldn’t wander the Duke’s grounds unescorted, Max waited quietly for someone to come and guide him.

Before long, a small, roofless carriage appeared.

From the carriage stepped not only the steward who always purchased information from Max but also a middle-aged man Max had never seen before.

"Is that the informant?"

"Yes, Sir Steward."

Steward? The head steward?

Max’s whole body stiffened.

In a noble household, the head steward was responsible for overseeing all affairs of the estate.

But in the Duke’s household? That was a monumental figure.

To someone like Max, the head steward was an untouchable giant.

‘This is it! I’ve really hit the jackpot this time!’

The head steward called Max over and, after hearing his story, invited him to sit in the carriage.

Sitting beside the head steward, Max felt his body stiffen even more. If he made a mistake now, it could cost him everything.

The carriage sped through the estate grounds, lined with elegant torch-lit pillars that seemed like works of art.

"..."

Something felt strange.

The carriage was headed toward a different building than the one Max had been to before.

The Duke’s estate was large enough to have several different buildings on the grounds.

The place Max had previously visited was the most remote building, likely used for lower-priority visitors. Important people wouldn’t even set foot there.

But the place they were heading now? It looked grand and majestic, like the kind of place where the Duke or other high-ranking figures would reside.

As the grand mansion came into view, Max swallowed hard.

"Um… Sir, where are we going?"

The head steward glanced at him, up and down, before speaking.

“You’re going to meet the Duke.”

“Th-the Duke…”

“You’ll need to change your clothes first.”

Max didn’t dare ask what that meant.

The head steward’s snake-like gaze was enough to sew his lips shut.

As soon as they arrived at the opulent mansion, Max was led by a servant into a small room.

Inside were hundreds of garments, all of similar design, and the servant picked out one that fit Max well.

They even redid his hair, applying a subtle fragrance and giving him a new pair of shoes.

Once the transformation was complete, Max was brought back to the head steward.

The steward’s brows furrowed slightly.

“Meeting the Duke looking like this… What a disgrace.”

His tone was full of disdain.

Max had thought he looked quite splendid after the makeover, but it clearly wasn’t enough to impress the steward.

For some reason, he felt his confidence crumble.

“But we don’t have time, so it’ll have to do.”

The head steward turned and began walking, continuing his instructions.

“The Duke is an incredibly busy man. He’s barely managed to spare you some time, so answer his questions promptly.”

“Yes, sir.”

“But don’t you dare ask him anything, or speak out of turn. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Keep your eyes on the Duke’s feet. Do not raise your head until he speaks to you.”

“…Yes, sir.”

“When I tell you where to stand, you must not step any further. Is that clear?”

“... Yes, sir.”

“Normally, someone like you wouldn’t even be allowed to stand in the Duke’s presence…”

The more the head steward spoke, the quieter Max’s responses became, as if he were shrinking.

He had been through many difficult situations and had gotten used to dealing with nobles, but standing here, in this place, he felt small.

Like a worthless insect.

After being bombarded with countless instructions, Max was finally allowed to enter the room where the Duke awaited.

The head steward entered with him, exchanged a few words with the Duke, and then promptly left.

Aside from a man who might have been a bodyguard standing by the entrance, it was just Max and the Duke.

One of the most powerful men in the kingdom was now standing before him, and the pressure was so intense that Max felt a sharp pain in his stomach.

After an awkward attempt at a formal bow, Max kept his head lowered, and the Duke’s voice came from above him.

"Raise your head."

"..."

"I hear you have information about the son of Klaus."

"Y-yes, I do."

"Speak."

With that, the Duke sat down in a large chair.

Max began recounting the story he had already told the head steward, word for word.

When he reached the part where the village chief claimed to have seen red eyes, a sudden gust of wind swept through the room.

Whoosh!

The wind cut across Max’s cheek like a blade.

“Hngh!”

Max instinctively lifted his head.

It was night outside, but the Duke’s estate was brightly lit, with candles lining the corridors and the room, making it as bright as day.

Under the glow of those lights, the Duke’s eyes gleamed.

Purple.

Max had never seen anything like it.

Whether it was the unusual color of those eyes, the sudden wind, or the sheer force of the Duke’s presence, a cold chill ran through Max’s entire body.

But then he remembered the head steward’s warning not to look at the Duke’s face.

Oh no, this was a terrible breach of etiquette.

Max quickly lowered his head, and the Duke’s voice rumbled through the room.

“Have you told anyone else about this?”

“N-no, I haven’t. This is the first place I’ve come to.”

The Duke’s voice dropped even lower.

“You’ve chosen wisely. You’ll be rewarded accordingly.”

As soon as the Duke finished speaking, the man standing in the corner brought over a heavy pouch and placed it before Max.

He wanted desperately to open it and see what was inside, but it would be rude to do so in front of the Duke.

Just as Max was about to bow and express his gratitude, the man beside him spoke.

“We have a request for you. Track down the man with purple eyes. Once you confirm his whereabouts, the Duke will reward you with an equivalent amount of gold.”

The man opened the pouch, showing its contents.

“By the gods!”

The pouch was filled with gold coins.

Forgetting himself, Max cried out in astonishment.

“I’m rich! I’m really rich!”

And if he could just find the son of Helga, they’d give him even more?

Max felt as though he could bow to the gods in gratitude as he lowered his head once more.

“I’ll do it! Leave it to me!”

At some point, the wind that had been conjured by the Duke had stopped.

When Max left the room, the man who had been standing guard followed him.

Something felt off.

The moment he noticed, the man gave him a faint smile.

“From now on, I’ll be handling all communication between you and the Duke’s household. It’s a pleasure to work with you.”

"..."

Dear gods.

This man was a watchdog.

His job was to monitor Max, to make sure he didn’t leak information to anyone else or do anything suspicious.

And if Max even tried something foolish, this man would undoubtedly turn into a killer.

A cold sweat dripped down Max’s spine.

‘It’s not just a symbol, is it?’

Hair color, eye color, facial features—these things often come up when discussing noble bloodlines.

I’d thought that’s all the purple eyes were—just a symbol of nobility or legitimacy.

But it seems that the purple eyes were far more important than I’d realized.

I’d been in such a hurry, afraid someone else would beat me to it.

‘I should’ve been more thorough.’

I’d heard that Duke Valther was a powerful mage, but to conjure a gust of wind like that? It meant he was deeply shaken.

Even though the head steward had already briefed him, the Duke’s emotions were too strong to contain.

His expression had been calm, but now that I think about it, there’s no doubt.

This was something incredibly important to the Duke.

‘What do I do now?’

This could turn into a disaster if I’m not careful.

One wrong move, and I could lose my head.