Chapter 91: Riven and Paladam

Reaching Trichel’s location turned out to be easier than expected.

Part of it was thanks to Reynard and the others drawing attention outside, but also because the innkeeper had already prepared a hidden route for us—as if he could see straight through everything.

I had suspected he wasn’t ordinary, but the mystery only deepens. Still, I have the feeling that if I pried too much, he’d deny us lodging. So I have no intention of digging further.

After slipping out of the inn, we arrived at the place Rosalind had mentioned.

It was one of the homes in the middle district. At first glance, just an ordinary house.

But Rosalind couldn’t be mistaken. Something was inside.

"Charlotte, are you ready?"

"Y-yes. Um, this is the right place, right?"

"No doubt. We’re going in."

The door was unlocked. It opened without resistance.

And the moment it did, we froze. An old man with white hair was waiting inside. Not just any old man—his white was too pure. He was one of the White Clan.

"I have been expecting you, Princess. And you as well, one of the Black."

"Um, you are…?"

"I am Paladam. You could call me Trichel’s foster father."

Hmm. Doesn’t look like he’s lying. Not that he has much to gain from it.

I’ll believe him—for now.

"So, what business do you have stepping out in front of us?"

"It is only natural that you would be impatient. But rest assured, the girl is alive and well. At present, she is resting underground."

"Oh? For a mastermind, you’re being unusually considerate."

Charlotte glanced at me, startled, but the reasoning was obvious.

Trichel belonged to the Blue People. She would never disobey the White Clan.

Which meant, if this man of the White was here, then all of this had been orchestrated by him—or at least condoned.

"Was it you who ordered Trichel to die…?"

Straight to the point. That’s fine.

No doubt he won’t bother hiding it.

"Yes. That is correct."

"Why!?"

Charlotte nearly lunged forward, but I raised an arm to stop her.

She looked at me, demanding answers, but it was obvious this man wouldn’t give a sane explanation.

The priority had to be confirming Trichel’s safety. We couldn’t waste time on him.

"…Perceptive. Similar, yet altogether different."

"What are you talking about?"

"A matter of my own. In any case, for you, her actual safety takes precedence, does it not?"

With that, Paladam stepped aside, gesturing for us to follow.

"Please, this way. I’ll take you to her."

"And what guarantee do we have that this isn’t a trap?"

"A sound precaution. But there is nothing left we can do here. You’ll have to take me at my word."

I sensed no deceit. Likely the truth.

I glanced at Charlotte. She couldn’t tell either way, but since this path led toward Trichel, she wasn’t about to object.

"Fine. We’ll follow."

"Then, this way."

What we found was a ladder leading down into the basement. So that’s why the house looked ordinary from the outside—it was just a cover.

"Charlotte, can you climb down on your own? I can carry you if needed…"

"I-I’ll be fine. Probably…"

"It isn’t a long ladder. I’ll go first."

With that, Paladam descended ahead of us.

Then it was my turn. Charlotte would come last.

"Don’t you dare look up!"

She shouted mid-descent, so I kept my eyes down.

I worried she might slip, but compared to the risk of getting kicked in the face, keeping my gaze down was the safer choice. If I lost my balance, all of us would be in trouble.

At any rate, I made it underground without incident. Charlotte followed, rubbing her hands as if they hurt, but otherwise fine. And it didn’t look like Paladam had prepared any traps.

"Then, this way."

The underground resembled a laboratory.

A sterile corridor stretched ahead, lined with rooms visible through glass panels. Every so often, we passed through wider chambers that looked almost like a child-rearing facility.

They raised something here? In a place like this?

"We raised volunteer Blue People here. To create children who could be used for this plan."

"So that’s where she grew up."

"That is correct."

They raised her in a purely mechanical way. No wonder she became such a fanatic.

To be born and raised in an enclosed space, given no meaning for life except this single purpose… it was much like the way the dark side trains its operatives.

"It was difficult, you know. Even Salem, whom you defeated, aided us for a time. Thanks to that, we barely managed to prepare enough children capable of fulfilling their roles."

"…You don’t feel any urge for revenge?"

"We are all equally sinners. At most, I feel sympathy—but I will not interfere with the fate that awaits them. There was only ruin waiting at the end of the path they chose to believe in."

A very cut-and-dried philosophy.

Who knows what’s really in his heart.

While I was thinking, Paladam stopped in front of one of the rooms.

He gestured gently, inviting us inside.

"Go ahead. Trichel is inside. She’s still asleep from the strain."

Now, what should I do?

So far, there’s been no lie, no trap. Would he spring one here? No. That would contradict their whole purpose.

Then the choice I should make is—

"Charlotte, go on alone beyond this door."

"Eh!?"

"I still have things to ask him."

Paladam raised his eyebrows for an instant, then smoothed it over with a practiced smile.

Was this what he wanted? Fine. He’d have to entertain my questions first.

"There’s no trap. That would go against their purpose."

"My, my. So you do trust me."

"It wouldn’t add up otherwise."

Charlotte looked uneasy, but of course she was worried about Trichel. She edged closer to the door.

I gave her a gentle push.

"When I’m done talking, I’ll follow. Go ahead first."

That single line seemed to steady her. She gave a quick “I’ll go on ahead” and disappeared beyond the door.

It closed behind her. Now only Paladam and I remained.

"So, what is it you want to ask me? You don’t seem to want the princess hearing it, so let’s make this quick."

"I want to know—this ‘princess’ you keep referring to. Who is she?"

Paladam’s expression shifted. The first thing to change was his eyes. The relaxed smile vanished, replaced by a grave stare.

"…And what exactly do you mean by that?"

"Salem once said it—something had been lost. That means this ‘princess’ isn’t only referring to her, is it? Answer me. What is the princess to the White Clan?"

Our eyes locked. His gaze was unwavering, piercing. He was trying to read my intent.

I couldn’t tell how many seconds passed. At last, he looked away, as if he’d finished weighing me. I let out a slow breath.

"So you don’t know the history. The Black Clan has fallen quite far, hasn’t it?"

"Sorry, I’m only a lowly member."

"Ah, so it was judged that you need not know. And yet you’ve come this far. Fate truly is a strange thing."

Paladam spoke while looking slightly upward, as though gazing at something distant.

What was he seeing? Was he remembering something?

"Very well. What I can tell you, I will."

"Then tell me—what is the princess?"

"In the simplest terms, she is the very core of the White Clan."

He went on, offering an analogy.

The White Clan, he said, was like a great tree. The princess was its trunk, its branches, its body. The members of the White were the fruits that fell from that tree.

Unlike an ordinary tree, however, the fruit did not take root and grow into something new. Instead, it returned to the same trunk. They were born from the princess and, in time, returned to her.

That, he said, was the system of the White Clan.

"We are all born from the princess, and to the princess we return. Unlike humans, we are lives that circulate. That is what makes us the White Clan."

…It didn’t sound like a lie.

But I couldn’t fully grasp it. Could something like that even be possible?

If it was, then it wasn’t a human power. It was something closer to the work of gods—or of a higher species.

"Doesn’t it strike a chord? Have you not seen that person warp the very laws of life itself before your eyes?"

"What are you talking about?"

"When you faced Salem, wasn’t your body twisted out of shape as a living being? For instance, when you lost your sight."

—!

Back then, who was it that healed my eyes? No, I know. It was Charlotte.

"What we can do, the princess can do as well. Of course. For all of us are born from her. Everything we are exists fundamentally for her sake."

"Wait. If that’s true, then the order doesn’t make sense."

The White Clan was said to have been born hundreds of years ago. Old enough to be recorded in legends.

If there had been other princesses before, that would make sense. But the way he spoke—it sounded as if there was only ever one.

"Yes. Your inference is correct."

He confirmed my reasoning as if reading my very thoughts.

If that was true, then what the hell was this impossible situation?

"Just as we circulate, the princess circulates on a greater scale."

"What do you mean? What are you saying?"

"Well now, even we do not fully understand the details. But—"

What he revealed next was more than enough to shock me.

"—When the princess is lost, she returns again to this world. Yes… such has been ordained since ancient times."