Chapter 42

Altears watched Lirika, who was pacing around today as well. She seemed to have grown a bit, just as she had promised.

'Or is it just my imagination?'

He tilted his head and gestured to her. As Lirika approached, he handed her a handful of jewels again.

"Here."

"Th-thank you."

She took them without hesitation, which he found endearing.

"Yeah, yeah."

He absentmindedly patted her head, hoping she would tell her mother about his praise.

Lirika put the jewels in her pocket and glanced around.

Neither Brin nor Laub could enter the study.

Especially not today.

"Laub isn't here today."

"Vacation."

"Laub is on vacation?"

"Yeah. It seems there's some trouble in his family."

His tone was slow, and his faint smile was almost a sneer.

"How interesting, everything shaking because of a small existence."

His gaze fixed on Lirika. As she swallowed, Altears smiled.

"Your mother is quite amusing. I didn't expect her to shake things up so much in less than a year."

Lirika felt uneasy.

"Is something wrong with Mother?"

"No, she's the one causing trouble. And the bonus that rolled in..."

Altears said to Lirika.

"Take good care of the raven and the wolf."

Lirika nodded, understanding the warning.

'Be careful.'

That's what it meant.

Thinking of being careful, something came to mind.

"Your Majesty, I have a question."

"What is it?"

"What is a magic gun?"

"A weapon that fires magic bullets."

The simple explanation made Lirika tilt her head, and Altears added.

"Why don't you ask your mother to show you?"

"My mother?"

"Yeah. She probably has several of them."

Who would she shoot with them? Altears frowned and added.

"Don't say I told you. They'll make a fuss if I taught you something dangerous."

Lirika giggled softly.

"Why are you laughing?"

"Because you two seem to get along well."

"Get along?"

"Being able to fight, I mean."

Altears seemed to understand what Lirika meant, finding it amusing that a young girl could say such things. He poked her forehead.

"Ouch, Your Majesty."

As Lirika covered her forehead with both hands and pouted, Altears chuckled.

'You and Athel really are alike.'

Lirika grumbled to herself, and Altears said,

"No, Athel probably has one too."

He suggested she ask him. Lirika nodded, thinking that her mother might not show her such a dangerous weapon.

'But I'm curious.'

Lirika had another question.

'Why does Athel have a magic gun?'

If he had the same power as Your Majesty, he wouldn't need any weapon.

* * *

Athel said he would show Lirika how to use a magic gun, so he took her to the secret garden.

'There seem to be more people today.'

The gazes were intense.

Once inside the garden, she felt more at ease. Athel muttered,

"The desert rats have gathered to squeak."

"Desert rats?"

"Southern peasants."

Athel handed her a magic gun. Lirika took it carefully.

It was cold and heavier than she expected. Athel said,

"Watch the situation. You should have one, but no. Just stick with that guy."

He glanced at Laub, and Lirika, holding the gun, asked,

"What situation?"

Athel frowned.

"Don't you know?"

"No..."

He took the gun back from her and said,

"Sugar cane. It's yours, right? Don't you know?"

"I did share the rights with Mother..."

Athel hummed and looked at the gun.

"Let me explain. When you pull this lever, the accumulated magic power activates the magic array inside the barrel, compressing the magic power. You aim with this sight, and when you pull the trigger, it fires."

Athel picked up the gun. Meanwhile, Bran hung a frying pan on a tree.

"Pull the lever."

There was a click.

"Aim."

Athel aimed at the frying pan and said,

"Pull the trigger."

As he pulled the trigger, a flash of light burst from the muzzle, and a magic array appeared in front.

"Ah!"

A magic bullet was fired.

Bang!

The sound of the frying pan being hit was loud. Lirika's eyes widened as she saw the hole in the frying pan.

"It's pierced."

"Of course. It's close range."

Lirika, not believing it, put her finger in the hole.

"Wow."

Lirika was amazed. Of course, she was surprised by the power of the magic gun, but also by the thought that Brin had pointed one at Laub's head.

Athel chuckled at her reaction.

"Most nobles have several. Not many are useful, though. The magic array inside the barrel can break, and if the barrel bends, it's useless."

"Can the barrel bend?"

"An impatient person might use it as a club. There's a limit to how many times you can fire it in a day, so if you run out of magic bullets, you might use physical force. If the magic accumulator breaks, it's useless."

"Magic accumulator?"

"It stores magic power. It's inside the barrel, but it's not very strong."

"I see. But the power is incredible. For such a small thing."

It could kill someone instantly. It was much easier to handle than a bow.

Athel made a clicking sound with the slide and said,

"There are also larger magic guns that work this way. They're called shotguns. They're more powerful because they're bigger. Your aunt probably has a couple too?"

"My mother?"

Mother with a magic gun?

Lirika tilted her head, unable to imagine it. Athel ruffled her hair.

"Well, you don't need to. It's better if you don't touch such things."

He handed the gun to Bran and smirked.

"You'll definitely cause an accident and shoot someone else. At least it would be better if you shot your own foot."

Just thinking about it hurt. Lirika asked,

"Have you ever shot your foot, Athel?"

"Of course not."

He lightly tapped her head with his fist, and Lirika instinctively covered her head with both hands.

She glanced up at him, and his blue eyes twinkled mischievously. He suddenly picked her up.

"What to do with this little one?"

"I'm not little."

"Little ones often say that, don't they?"

"I really am not..."

He couldn't help but tease his little sister, who grumbled. Her eyes, like a foreign sea, changed expressions rapidly.

"Brin said I'm growing well."

"A chestnut remains a chestnut, no matter how much it grows."

"A chestnut grows into a big tree."

"You admit you're a chestnut, then."

"......!"

She frowned, and Athel laughed, putting her down. They were in front of a table under the parasol's shade.

She drank the cold lemonade in anger, making a "Kya—" sound, and Athel tried to suppress his laughter.

"So, what about the sugar cane earlier?"

"Oh, that?"

Athel stirred the iced tea in his glass with a stirrer and said,

"One of the main sources of income for southern nobles is sugar. Made from sugarcane. When they heard that the northern region was also cultivating it, they went into a frenzy. They feared the price of sugar might drop."

Lirika blinked, not expecting this.

Athel smiled crookedly and continued,

"Who leads the southern nobles? Who else? Sandar."

"Is it that serious?"

"They had been working together to monopolize sugar and control its price. But, voila. Sugar is being produced in the north too?"

Lirika's small face became serious. In the slums, a single coin could lead to a bloody fight. If it was sugar, which involved much more money...

'It could really be a serious issue.'

* * *