If the troll's blood gave Ihan astonishing recovery abilities and immense strength, the gnoll's blood granted him a heightened sense of smell and keen instincts.
While there's much to be said about his instincts, let's set that aside for now. His sense of smell, however, was three times sharper than that of an average human, giving him an extraordinary power.

The ability to remember people by scent alone.

Like dogs with poor eyesight who rely on their noses to recognize their owners even years later, Ihan, somewhat unintentionally, developed the ability to remember people by their scent rather than their face.

...Once he got used to it, it turned out to be quite convenient.

"...I'm leaving now."
"What about your wages?"
"Just deposit it into the bank like always. And don’t forget—otherwise, you know what’ll happen."
"Look, I may not worry about the others, but I wouldn't dare shortchange you, Lihan. In fact, I’m more likely to give you double! Just promise not to work anywhere else."
"I know."

Ihan casually responded to the foreman's words and then splashed water on himself from the well.
Washing away the sweat and dust, he dried off with a towel, achieving a modest sense of cleanliness.
After changing into a relatively clean set of clothes, he stepped outside…

"‘She’ is waiting for you."
"...Sigh."

An elderly butler, who exuded an air of experience, greeted him with a polite bow.
At the sight of the familiar face, Ihan could only let out a sigh.

"Seems like you’re working hard, old man."
"Haha, what hardship is there? Please, this way."
"Haa…"

There were many reasons why Ihan found this particular butler, Albert, troublesome, but three stood out above the rest.
One of those reasons was that Albert was not just a butler but a noble with the title of baron.
Not just any noble, either—he came from a distinguished family that had served the royal family for generations. Even those with higher titles couldn’t treat him carelessly.

While Ihan wasn’t one to care about noble status, dealing with someone of Albert's stature was undoubtedly uncomfortable.
What made it worse was that, despite his status, the baron treated everyone, be they commoners or beggars, with equal respect, running an orphanage and being an exemplary figure.

That was the second reason Ihan found him difficult to deal with.
It would be easier if the butler were cold or confrontational; then Ihan could just ignore him. But no, Albert was far too upstanding for that.
And the final reason, the most significant one...

"Ho ho, it seems your physique has improved again. It’s always a pleasure to see such steady progress."
"Ah, yes."
"At this rate, I believe you’ll be able to land a blow on Baltar one day. Keep up the good work."
"...Haha."

The fact that this man was one of the kingdom’s three Aura Users made him particularly intimidating.
For the record, Baltar was the captain of the Third Division and the very person who had brought Ihan into the knight order.

‘This guy is crazy in his own way, too.’

Though clearly a man of virtue, Ihan couldn’t understand why someone hailed as a superhuman would continue working as a butler.
Then again, if he considered the fact that Baltar, another Aura User, remained content as the captain of the Third Division instead of taking on a more prestigious role in the military, it seemed that all of these Aura Users were eccentrics.

Ihan knew better than to let these thoughts show on his face. One wrong expression, and he might end up facing this man in combat again.
They had fought once before, after all.

‘And it was terrifying.’

Albert was the perfect gentleman in everyday life, but the moment he picked up a weapon…

"You're late."

…Ah, great.

Before Ihan could finish his train of thought, he found himself standing near a luxurious carriage in a quiet alley.

"I’m not late. I didn’t mean to be, anyway."
"Your words are as polished as ever, Albert. No doubt you were just gossiping or chatting idly, causing the delay."
"Haha, your highness, such a harsh misunderstanding. Too cruel."
"Hmph! Ridiculous nonsense."

Although the tone of voice sounded haughty and harsh, the unmistakable air of nobility and poise in her voice was undeniable.
Feeling the overwhelming presence of the speaker, Ihan glanced at Albert with a dismayed expression as if to ask, "Do I really have to get into that carriage?"

"Please, step inside."

Without offering a real answer, Albert politely opened the door and practically ushered Ihan into the carriage.

...The old man had no mercy.

Inside the carriage, two maids stood among the extravagant decor, adorned with various gems and magical items.
The interior was far more magnificent than what could be seen from the outside, as if the exterior had only hinted at the true luxury within.
However, even the brilliance of the jewels paled in comparison to the noble aura of the veiled woman seated within.

With a wry smile, Ihan bowed his head inside the carriage, which was spacious enough to comfortably fit five people lying down.

"It’s been a while, your highness."
"Hmph, how heartless. How could you, a supposed friend, be out of touch for so long?"
"Life’s been busy."
"Nonsense. If you had accepted my sponsorship, you would have had more than enough free time."
"Haha."
"Trying to brush it off with a laugh again?"

The woman addressed Ihan as "friend."
At first glance, it seemed like an odd word to use.
Judging by her noble aura alone, it was clear that she was an upper-echelon noble, while Ihan, with no such grandeur, seemed an unlikely match for her as a friend.
Yet, surprisingly, they were indeed friends.

...Though the difference in their statuses was like the contrast between a firefly and the sun.

"Surely the crown princess hasn’t had much free time herself? So I’d say we’re even."
"Still as impertinent as ever. I’d love nothing more than to cut off that cheeky tongue of yours."
"Please, I was only joking."
"I wasn’t."
"...My apologies."
"Hmph, you still bend too easily."

Snap.

The woman, Isis Elaine de Pandragon, heir to the throne and first in line of succession, snapped her fan shut with an arrogant smirk.

—Despite being in her 40s, her beauty remained stunning.

The crown princess, who had been merely a princess when Ihan had first met her, had risen to near-unassailable power in just three short years, becoming the kingdom’s undisputed heir.
Some still held outdated views, questioning whether a woman could truly ascend to the throne, but those people were likely either lying at the bottom of a river or fertilizing the earth by now.

She was a fearsome woman.
By her twenties, she had secured a foothold in power and even brought an Aura User like Albert into her fold. She now carried the weight of the future monarch with ease.

...Thinking about how their friendship had started purely by coincidence, Ihan found life to be quite ironic.

"Crown Princess, why have you graced me with your presence today—"
"Enough. Don’t use such cringe-worthy titles. Call me the way you usually do."
"But… the circumstances are different now…"
"Do you want me to repeat myself?"
"—Big sis! Your little brother greets you with respect!!"
"Hoho, now that’s more like it."

Isis laughed brightly, clearly pleased with Ihan’s playful display, her smile like a blossoming flower.
She was undeniably in her 40s, yet her beauty still radiated.
Then again, there were rumors that members of the Pandragon royal family retained their youthful appearance until they were 100.
And they lived to an average of 150 years.

‘If only they could live to 200, barring stress and overwork.’

...Though, that might be impossible for royalty.

"Remember, Ihan. You are the one who saved my life. As a reward, you have earned the honor of becoming my sworn brother, which you should regard as a lifelong privilege and act of mercy."
"...Big sis, you really haven’t changed."

Three years ago, right after the war ended, Isis had visited the soldiers at the camp to boost morale when she was attacked by assassins.
Fortunately, a brave soldier had saved her—none other than Ihan. From that moment, their unlikely connection had begun.

...But don’t get the wrong idea.
There was no romance here.
In fact, if there were, it would be quite concerning.

"Hoho, I’ve mellowed a bit since then."
"How’s the baby?"
"Would you like to see?"
"...Huh?"
"She refuses to part with me, no matter what."

Isis was, after all, a married woman—and a mother at that.

"......"

Ihan’s jaw dropped.
He knew who the child was.
He had seen her once as a newborn from afar.
Which is why, perhaps irreverently, he blurted out:

"...Sis, I know I shouldn't say this, but... are you insane?"

He scolded her in disbelief, but Isis only laughed heartily, her booming laughter more fitting for a seasoned warrior than a noblewoman.

"It’s perfectly fine. I trust my people enough to keep her with me."
"...Sometimes you really do the strangest things."
"I know."
"Woo!"
"Hoho, such a bold laugh. Well, that’s only fitting for my child."
"Mmm…"

I remember a friend from my previous life once said that all politicians are a little unhinged.
Looks like they were right.

The only heir to the Pandragon royal family giggled beside his mother while Ihan could only feel a growing sense of dread.
All he wanted was to escape from this situation as quickly as possible.

...Too bad he knew that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.