"Watch out!"

Estella cried out in alarm as the Silverhunt’s scale flew at them in the blink of an eye. If the angle of the scale Walter was holding had been even slightly off, it would’ve either sliced off his finger or at least driven itself deep into his hand.

The event happened so quickly that Walter, startled a beat late, dropped the purple scale he’d been holding. His now-empty hand trembled uncontrollably. Though it had seemed like he’d pulled off just one purple scale, what fell onto the table was a heavy cluster of scales, packed tightly like a pinecone.

“Th-this is…”

Walter stammered, face pale, stunned by the bizarre sight unlike anything he’d ever seen.

But the one most thrilled by the scene was Gerard. He had been standing a little way back, but now he strode toward the table with wide eyes, gaze fixed obsessively on the clumped-together scales.

“Bound magic…”

Gerard peered closely at the scales and whispered an incantation. A magic circle, about the size of a small plate, floated up above his palm. The sky-blue glow of the circle gently spread over the bundle like a blanket, and the scales scattered across the table with a chime, like beads falling from a snapped necklace.

“Bound magic?”

When Estella asked curiously, Gerard grinned as if he’d been waiting for that question. Nothing gave him more of a thrill than being the only one in the room who knew something. He cleared his throat grandly.

“It’s magic that causes something to return to its origin. To put it simply, it locks the vibrational frequency through mana resonance.”

It didn’t sound simple at all, but Estella nodded anyway. She didn’t care about the mechanics—she wanted the result—but she also knew that if she demanded Gerard skip straight to the point, he’d get very annoyed.

Fortunately, seeing her nod, Gerard continued.

“When two objects share the same fixed frequency, they recognize, attract, and return to each other. Just like these did.”

“So… kind of like a GPS-guided system…”

“What? What’s that? Ji-pes-yoo system? What even is that?”

Gerard’s eyes sparkled as he questioned her muttering. He was quick to realize she was referencing a memory from the other soul, and now his interest was piqued.

“Later. First, let’s focus on this.”

Estella calmly soothed Gerard, whose wings were metaphorically fluttering. She was a little worried he might blurt out something like “the other soul,” but smart as he was, Gerard didn’t make that kind of mistake.

“Fine! But you better tell me later!”

Gerard grinned like a kid promised a toy and quickly wrote it down in his notebook, which he fished out of a vest pocket cluttered with dozens more. “Ji-pes-yoo system, presumed new magic framework.”

Watching the exchange, Ciel felt extremely uncomfortable. It was clear something was happening between the two that he didn’t understand, and he felt a sharp stab of jealousy—but he suppressed it with superhuman will. This was something incredibly important to Estella, and he refused to distract her with petty feelings.

Still, he couldn’t help but be curious. GPS or GP-something—what even was that? Though he had no magical talent and didn’t regret not becoming a mage, he found himself mulling over Estella’s next question.

“If it’s dead, can the magic still hold?”

“I’ve never seen anything like this. Bound magic usually dissipates when the target dies.”

Gerard shoved the notebook back into a pocket, frowning in puzzlement.

“Then is there any way to know how long the magic will last?”

“If it’s still active even after death, we can probably assume it’ll stay like this forever. But why do you ask?”

Gerard looked at Estella suspiciously. Her eyes were glittering in that telltale way again, and when they did, work always came crashing down on him like a landslide. That other soul inside her was clearly as much a workaholic as she was.

Ugh!

“Do you think it’s possible to mount these on a repeating crossbow?”

“The scales? Why? They’re flashy, sure, might look pretty flying through the— Wait. Don’t tell me…”

For the first time in his life, Gerard felt a pang of misanthropy as he asked.

“That’s right. I’m going to make a repeating crossbow with automatic arrow retrieval using those scales!”

“No. Absolutely not. That’s impossible. I’m already way too busy.”

Gerard rejected it flat-out, but Estella ignored him entirely. She went straight to Walter, grabbed his hand, and looked up at him with an expression far more earnest and tender than before.

“You heard that, didn’t you? What you’re about to do will spark a revolution in Wintfall. So please, carefully separate each scale without damaging them. And don’t forget—safety is the most important thing. Got it? Ah, I’ll bring you ten daggers made of Nevrion steel to make the job easier. You’ll be able to separate the scales far more cleanly with those.”

Originally, Estella had been planning to forge a new type of blade or armor using the Silverhunt’s scales—but she quickly revised her plans. Nevrion steel alone would suffice for weapons and armor. These scales, with bound magic intact, were a miracle that had dropped straight from the sky.

It was as if the Mage Tower Lord had sent Wintfall a gift.

What a sweet bastard.

Estella smirked wickedly. Meanwhile, Gerard, now saddled with yet another task, ruffled his already-messy hair in frustration and glared at her with one mismatched eye.

Ciel watched the not-quite-fight unfold with a pleased smile on his face. The Squirrels sighed deeply and gave their hopeless captain looks of dismay.

Love clearly made people utterly simple. All your thoughts became fixed on one person, and with just a single word or glance from them, you could ascend to heaven—or plummet into hell.

“Th-thank you, my lady.”

Walter had come thinking it was just a monster dissection job, but now felt like he’d been handed a terrifyingly huge responsibility. It weighed on him—but at the same time, filled him with pride. If his younger brother ever found out how important his job was to Wintfall, he’d be so proud.

Estella and the Squirrels headed outside immediately with the first batch of separated scales. Gerard followed behind, torn between excitement at developing something new and the dread of more work.

“I’ve been tricked. Swindled. I want to leave, but there’s too much interesting stuff here. Damned house… There’s something fun around every corner. Ugh…”

Gerard instinctively knew he wouldn’t be leaving Wintfall any time soon. Maybe not for a long time. As he trudged along, dragging his long legs, he looked more pitiful than ever.

They arrived at an old clearing to the north of the marquisate. It had once been a training ground for the knights, now abandoned since a new facility had been built elsewhere.

“This should do nicely.”

Estella confirmed that no one was nearby and spoke in a cheerful voice.

Gerard and Airi approached, casting temporary unbinding spells on the scales inside the leather pouch Estella held. But the original bound magic was so strong that their spells wouldn’t last long. Yet another problem Gerard and Airi would eventually have to solve.

“This damned house. Solve one problem, and two more show up. Like work’s breeding or something.”

“Then why don’t you just leave?” Airi asked, as if that were the obvious solution, overhearing Gerard grumbling.

He sighed and answered.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“There’s too much fun stuff.”

“…Fair.”

Airi’s cool reply earned a nod of agreement from Gerard.

Haru stuck a purple scale to one of the old training buildings and quickly moved away. Estella started testing at a distance of 100 meters.

Wearing gloves, she took a silver scale from her pouch and placed it on the ground. After a moment, the scale trembled, then shot toward the purple one at frightening speed.

Crash!

CRACK CRACK!

The sharp silver scale embedded itself like a throwing knife around the purple scale.

“Perfect! Gerard! Airi! Reset the unbinding spell!”

They cast again, and swift-footed Haru ran to retrieve the silver scale. The process repeated over and over. As distances increased, the Squirrels mounted horses to recover the scales. At last, they determined the bound magic had a maximum effective range of 1 kilometer.

Lydia had been living each day in Wintfall filled with happiness ever since moving there. Without worrying about money, she could paint as many monster illustrations as she wanted. She even had lovable, adorable neighbors now—there wasn’t a single dull day in her life.

And according to Lady Estella, her drawings would soon be used as training material for the knights and soldiers of Wintfall. What could be more rewarding than that?

The piece Lydia was working on today depicted the Silverhunt and Dragol that had recently attacked Wintfall.

Since Silverhunts were such rare monsters, even Lydia had never seen one in person before. She had only known of them as magical errors—monsters created by the failure of a spell—but after becoming a target of their attack, she realized just how terrifying they truly were. Even though she hadn’t seen one alive, just examining the corpse had been a huge gain.

And to think, there had even been a leader with a different-colored scale. It was a groundbreaking discovery in the world of monsters—an exceptional case that absolutely warranted further research.

She was scheduled to speak with Lady Estella later today to learn more about the creature’s traits and movement patterns, but she couldn’t help feeling a twinge of regret. If she’d seen them moving with her own eyes, she would’ve been able to record so much more.

As she mused over these thoughts while sketching, someone knocked on the door. Lydia quickly checked the time. It was still well before Lady Estella was due to arrive.

“Who is it?”

“Lydia, ma’am! It’s me—Jad!”

“Jad?”

Jad was the son of the blacksmith Dolan. He looked exactly like his father and was just as firm and capable in how he moved and spoke. Though still a child, he always carried a small toolkit at his belt as if he were already a proper blacksmith. Lydia found the sight irresistibly cute and endearing.

She’d even purposely broken household items and furniture just to get a chance to see him fix them. Jad was still young, but he’d clearly inherited his father’s hands—his craftsmanship was so good it left her speechless.

Lydia glanced around the house to see if anything still needed repairs, then opened the door with a slightly disappointed expression. There wasn’t much left to fix, which meant Jad likely wouldn’t stay long. She’d even tried giving him cookies she’d baked herself to keep him around longer, but he would always suddenly remember something he had to do and hurry home.

“Hello, ma’am!”

Jad, ever cheerful, never called her “grandma” despite her graying hair. He always called her “ma’am,” like it was the most natural thing in the world. Some might see it as him being overly smooth, but to Lydia, it was simply his way of being kind—an effort not to hurt her feelings. She thought it was adorable.

“Come in, Jad. Oh my! And who… is this young master next to you?”

She had been about to ask who the boy was, but the clothes he was wearing looked too fine for that, so Lydia quickly corrected her tone.

The boy standing next to Jad looked a little nervous—unlike his companion, he wore expensive-looking clothes and had a smart, alert expression. He seemed oddly familiar somehow… but who did he resemble?

As Lydia was lost in thought, the boy next to Jad flashed a bright smile. And in that moment, Estella’s face flickered in Lydia’s mind. The hair and eye color were different, but the resemblance was so strong it was uncanny.

“Could it be…?”

“I’m Luka Cardeine. Estella Nunim’s one and only younger brother.”

Luka answered proudly, his expression full of confidence.

Chapter 144

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