The sound of a woman regaining consciousness echoed from the carriage, but Rishir had no idea who she was. However, it became immediately clear that she was important to the man standing before them. The moment news of her recovery was announced, the sharp, aggressive aura surrounding the man softened significantly.

The man gave Rishir and his group a glance before hastily returning to the carriage.

“Hoo…”

Rishir exhaled a deep sigh, realizing he had been holding his breath. It had been the pressure emanating from the man—an intense presence, as though he had been facing a wild, excited beast.

*Tap tap.*  
Pien tapped Rishir’s arm from the side.

“Let’s go,” she urged him with a serious expression, gesturing for them to leave quickly.

Pien had felt the oppressive aura from the man as well, though with her higher rank, she sensed it even more acutely.

‘At least fifth rank,’ she thought.  
A powerful force combined with an unstable mental state—someone completely unsuitable as a traveling companion.

“Wait… huh... maybe they’re in a good mood now… huh... maybe we can ask again?” Rona chimed in, her tone odd.

It sounded as though a woman was trying to mimic a man’s voice. Even her actions matched that—rolling up her sleeves to show off her wrists, walking with exaggerated steps, and tossing her sweaty bangs back in a dramatic fashion. Ever since becoming a slave, Rona had been trying hard to act like a man, as if denying her new reality as a woman.

But her efforts weren’t very convincing.

“Huff… huff…”  
“Are you okay, Rona? If it’s too hard, just hand over the luggage already.”  
Despite Rishir and Pien’s offer, Rona stubbornly insisted on carrying their bags.

She had declared that she could keep up with them and that they shouldn’t slow down for her. The result was a steady stream of sweat pouring from her, her breathing erratic, almost as if she was on the verge of collapse.

Her exposed wrists trembled like fragile branches.

“I-I’m not tired…! Hah—”  

Anyone could see that Rona was putting on a front.

“Not tired? Then why did you mutter ‘we’re saved’ when you saw the carriage? And why did your face look like you were about to cry when Pien said we should just leave?”  
“I-I never said that!”  
“Oh, really? My mistake, then. Maybe Pien’s right—we should just leave. After all, Pien wants to leave, and you want to leave too, right? Or wait, should I really count a slave’s vote the same as Pien’s?”

“Y-Yes! If my master *insists* on taking that carriage, then as a slave, I have no choice but to follow!”

Pien let out a sigh as she listened to their exchange.

“How did I end up with these fools? Rishir, stop playing around with your slave and let’s leave. That man… I have a bad feeling about him.”

“Pien, I’ve learned something recently—don’t judge people solely by first impressions. A poor, innocent girl… a charming young man…”

“…”

“…”

The nearly mind-controlled pair pouted in displeasure, but they had no real rebuttal.

“So, what? Someone who seemed nice turned out to be trash, so you think this grumpy guy will be a good person? Is that your logic?”

“What I’m saying is, let’s not overreact. Why would someone who owns such a fine carriage bother to harm random travelers? Like Rona said, we can just ask if they’ll give us a ride. And why do you think Pien’s trash? If anything, it’s Rona, right, Rona?”

“...Do I have to answer that?”

“No matter what anyone says, I think Pien is a good person. So, stop being so hard on yourself. Rona can handle all the guilt. Right, Rona?”

“...Y-Yeah.”

“Okay, enough of this,” Pien cut in, irritated by the fact that Rishir’s nonsense had actually lifted her mood.

Time passed, and eventually, the man from the carriage returned. This time, he approached Rishir’s group more calmly.

“My apologies for the delay. I am Daress of the Durayeg family.”

Durayeg.  
Rishir mentally repeated the name. Nobles often memorized the names of other noble families, partly to know when to grovel before higher-ranking ones, or to snub those of lower standing.

For Rishir, a bastard scorned by all nobles, this was a matter of another world. But he had, nevertheless, retained the names of various noble families in his head.  
The Durayeg name was one of the more prominent ones, likely on every noble’s list.

Durayeg was among the upper echelons of nobility, with few families ranking higher.

“My fiancée’s condition worsened suddenly during the night, and I was… on edge. I apologize for my earlier behavior.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Is your fiancée feeling better now?” Rishir inquired, his tone full of courtesy.

At Rishir’s shift in tone, both Pien and Rona visibly cringed.

Who are you?  
Rishir’s change was drastic, speaking with a refined dignity that matched Daress’s status perfectly.

“...Excuse me, may I ask which family you hail from?”

Daress, also surprised, asked for Rishir’s background.

“I apologize for not introducing myself properly earlier. I am Rishir, a bastard of the [family name]. Please, feel free to speak informally with me.”

“...”

Daress’s eyes widened, shocked. He had expected Rishir to be from a high-ranking family, but a bastard?

Nevertheless, he continued the conversation, albeit a little thrown off.

“Now then, let’s get to the point. What is it you need?”

“We were hoping to ask if your carriage had room for us to join you…”

Rishir trailed off, sensing that Daress would likely refuse, given the mention of his sick fiancée.  
He braced himself for the impending rejection, feeling a pang of disappointment.

‘If we lose this chance, who knows how long it’ll take to reach Bon Daress…’

The potion in his pocket was waiting, as was his magic training, which had been halted at a critical point. The thought of wasting more time made him anxious.

“Hm…”

To his surprise, Daress sighed deeply.

“Actually, my fiancée requested that we help you, if you needed it.”

Rishir suddenly saw three choices before him.

Celebrate outwardly.  
Ask for an explanation.  
Or—

“She seems very kind,” Rishir said, complimenting Daress’s fiancée.  
It was the right choice, as Daress’s previously displeased expression softened slightly.

“Indeed, she is far too kind. So, what do you say? Will you accept my fiancée’s kindness and join us?”

“We would be most grateful.”

Thus, thanks to his fiancée’s whims, Daress escorted Rishir and his group to the carriage. As they walked, Rishir introduced his companions.

“This is Pien, and this—my… slave, Nola.”

“...”

Daress’s expression twisted as he glanced at Nola.

“She doesn’t seem suited for physical labor.”

It was an understandable reaction, given Nola’s frail appearance and the fact that she was drenched in sweat while carrying multiple bags.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how did your slave end up carrying such burdens?”

Disappointment crept into Daress’s voice.

“She and her associates tried to poison me, and she attempted to assault me as well. After facing the consequences, she offered herself as a slave to atone for her crimes. The baggage is something she insisted on carrying, despite my objections.”

Daress blinked, staring at Nola with a dumbfounded expression.

“...”

Nola hung her head in shame, trembling slightly.

“Ahem. I see… well then, let’s move on.”

Daress led them into the carriage. The interior, possibly enchanted, was much larger than it appeared from the outside.

There were already four people inside, yet there was still plenty of space for Rishir’s group to sit comfortably.

At the far end of the carriage, a woman wrapped in a blanket sat with a warm smile.

“Allow me to introduce my fiancée, Todina.”

Her skin was pale, her hair brittle, and dark circles hung under her eyes.  
Despite her fragile appearance, Todina greeted them with a radiant smile.

“Hello, everyone. I hope Daress didn’t scare you too much when he stormed out of the carriage. I was worried sick! I wanted to stop him, but… I couldn’t stop coughing at the time.”

Daress, standing beside her, let out a resigned groan but did nothing to stop her from speaking.

“Todina, I heard about your situation from Sir Daress. We are incredibly grateful for your kindness.”

“Please, thank Daress instead. He always listens to my whims, no matter how unreasonable. Oh, where are my manners? This is Damin, my faithful maid who always looks after me.”

The maid beside Todina gave a polite nod.

“And this is Sir Toppin, who came all this way at Daress’s request to treat me.”

A silver-haired elderly man returned the nod.

“I am Toppin, a scholar of healing magic from the Bloom School. This is my assistant, Elteni—”

“I am Rishir.”

Once again, Rishir introduced themselves and his group to the occupants of the carriage.

At that moment, Todina coughed violently, quickly covering her mouth with her fist. Her body shook as raspy, dry coughs escaped her throat.

"Miss."

"...Thank you," she said, gratefully accepting a cup of warm water from her maid, Damin.

"Kehuk!"

The water only made her coughing worse. She took several sips, but her breath remained shallow and labored, each wheeze like that of an elderly person nearing the end of life.

The mood in the carriage grew heavy.

Just as silence threatened to settle in, Toppin broke it.

"Todina."

"Yes, Sir Toppin?"

"As your personal physician, let me remind you once more that coming out to greet us was a poor decision. You need absolute rest, and this—this was far from wise."

"..."

Todina’s expression twisted with a pained smile.

"I’m sorry. I’ve been cooped up inside for so long… I just wanted to see the outside world for a bit."

"It was my decision to bring her along, so don't blame her," Daress interjected.

"No, Daress. You only granted my request. If I had known I’d worry everyone like this…"

As their conversation continued, Toppin’s gaze shifted to Rishir.

"Rishir, was it?"

His tone was sharp, filled with authority. Toppin had shown disdain earlier when he learned that Rishir was a bastard. His words dripped with condescension.

"As you can see, my patient needs complete and uninterrupted rest. Our carriage is not in a position to accommodate any distractions. I trust you understand what I’m implying."

He gestured toward the door, making it clear that he wanted Rishir and his companions to leave.

"Sir Toppin…!" Todina exclaimed, her voice weak but pleading.

"Todina, I am your physician. I must insist that you follow my guidance."

"..."

Todina squeezed her eyes shut, as though resigning herself to the situation.

"I’m sorry, Rishir… I didn’t mean to cause such trouble for you…"

Toppin, growing more insistent, motioned to the door again, this time with visible irritation.

"Wait," Rishir said, after considering his options. "Perhaps I can be of some help to Miss Todina."

Toppin clicked his tongue, clearly displeased.

"Rishir, I would ask that you refrain from making outlandish claims in front of my patient."

"..."

"Or are you suggesting you know something that countless other healers—experts in their field—have missed over the past several months? These are renowned individuals who have devoted their lives to the healing arts, and yet they’ve failed to uncover the cause of her ailment. And you—what could you possibly know?"

Toppin’s voice was cold and dismissive.

"Rishir," he continued, "if you truly wish to repay Todina for her kindness, then I suggest you leave this carriage immediately."

Rishir did, indeed, feel indebted to Todina for her generosity. However, he couldn’t shake the sense of unease he felt about her condition—an unease born of intuition and his previous experiences.

He couldn’t leave just yet.

That vague feeling of wrongness he sensed from Todina… It urged him to get closer, to investigate further.

‘If I could just touch her once…’

Initially, Rishir had planned to ask if he could examine her under the pretense of checking her condition. However, it was clear that such a request wouldn’t fly with a physician like Toppin present.

He needed another way.

"..."

After some thought, Rishir reached into his pocket and pulled out a coin.

A completely ordinary coin with no special properties.

"Todina," he said, "this is my lucky charm."

"Your… lucky charm?" she asked, surprised.

"Yes. Thanks to this charm, I’ve escaped many dangerous situations. Would you be willing to accept it?"

Even as he spoke, Rishir cringed internally.  
‘Is this the best idea I could come up with?’

It was an improvised plan, hastily thought up on the spot, and it wasn’t his best.

"A lucky charm…?"

Thankfully, Todina didn’t seem to find it strange. She glanced at Toppin for approval.

Toppin begrudgingly nodded.

"I’m not taking away your luck, am I?" Todina asked with a weak smile.

"I have more than enough luck to spare," Rishir replied. "I wouldn’t mind parting with some of it."

"Rishir, you’re very kind… Despite everything that’s happened, and how uncomfortable this must have been for you… I should refuse, but…"

Gently, Todina wrapped her hands around Rishir’s, accepting the coin.

"Honestly… I’m feeling a bit selfish. Maybe… just maybe, some of that luck will rub off on me."

In that moment, Rishir focused all his attention on Todina—on the feeling of her hand and the unsettling sensation that emanated from her.

"Haaah!"

Suddenly, a pained gasp filled the carriage.  
Damin, Todina’s maid, was writhing in agony.

All eyes turned toward her.

Where a young maid had been sitting moments ago, there was now a wrinkled old crone wearing the same maid’s uniform.

The carefully laid plans of the black sorcerer, meticulously built over several months, had crumbled in an instant.

"How…?!" the sorcerer gasped, unable to comprehend the strange force that had undone her magic.

"..."  
"..."  

Both Pien and Rona felt an unsettling kinship with the grotesque, now-exposed sorcerer—and they were deeply uncomfortable with it.