Quentin, the leader of the group, moved with the grace of a large carnivorous beast. He kept his gaze on the puppet I had offered, remaining silent for a while without uttering a single word.
...Huh? Did I say something thatâs hard to respond to?
As I recalled our conversation, I suddenly remembered what Zabiria had told me.
...Ah, thatâs right. She advised me to start with a polite explanation of this puppet.
I turned to Quentin again and opened my mouth with a smile.
"This puppet actually has two roles. Itâs both a puppet modeled after a Bluedab and a Bluedabâs winter coat!"
Still, Quentin remained silent.
Huh? Is Quentin the type who doesnât talk much?
If so, Iâm not needed here.
"Anyway, thatâs the situation..." I tried to brush it off and step back, but suddenly Quentin spoke up.
"This is a remarkable creation, almost as if itâs alive. Iâve heard that those with a deep appreciation for art tend to show it in everything they do. In particular, you seem to excel at wordplay. The motif of the âBlue Birdâ is a brilliant inspiration. The contrast between blue and black is exquisite."
"âŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚ"
What should I do? I donât understand what Quentin is saying.
Confused, I tried to think of a response, but before I could retreat to the others, Gideon, the deputy leader, spoke up in a startled voice.
"Leader, this is just a regular knight. Why are you using such formal language? If it just looks like a pile of cloth, be honest..."
However, Gideon didnât finish his sentence.
Because, in the middle of speaking, he was suddenly stepped on hard by Quentin, causing him to grimace in pain.
...Oh dear, Gideon. I thought you were still sulking after being scolded by Cyril, but youâre back to your usual self.
Moreover, the way you talk about a womanâs creation is not appropriate.
It seems youâre being disciplined by your gentlemanly direct superior, Quentin.
Nodding in agreement with Quentinâs actions, I looked up at Cyril, who was also tilting his head in confusion.
"Whatâs wrong, Quentin? Using flattery isnât like you. Has the long expedition affected one of your brains?"
The moment Cyril spoke, Quentinâs face turned fierce, and he turned to face Cyril.
"Cyril, I need to talk to you."
He then led Cyril to the corner of the room, grabbed his collar, and leaned in close, whispering.
"Listen, Iâm the best at handling monsters. If you value your life, donât interfere with my methods!"
"What are you talking about? Surely youâre not mistaking the Bluedab for a dangerous monster? As the leader of the Monster Knights, thatâs impossible, right?"
"Thatâs why! You really need to shut up! I donât know which words will trigger a reaction, so donât say anything at all!!"
Cyril, who was pressed against the wall, looked at Quentin curiously but seemed to decide to comply.
"Fine. I donât understand at all, but Iâll play along with your game."
"Damn, youâre a true insensate! You donât understand my efforts at all!!"
After that, Quentin returned with Cyril, turned to me again, and started praising Zabiria.
"Cyril may seem competent, but he doesnât understand anything. He doesnât understand how powerful, beautiful, and noble this blue-black monster is. I apologize for my rudeness."
Cyril, unusually without his usual smile, looked completely baffled.
...Itâs okay, Cyril. I donât understand either.
I think itâs perfectly normal for Cyril to be confused.
Quentin, with a forced smile, gestured to the sofa.
"Standing must be tiring. Why donât you sit down?"
However, as soon as his gaze shifted from the sofa to the coffee table, Quentinâs smile vanished, and he shuddered.
"Hey, wait! Why is the coffee table split in half! Was it you, Cyril?!"
Quentin accused Cyril with certainty. In response, Cyril made a displeased expression and retorted.
"Have you never heard the legal maxim âIn dubio pro reoâ? You shouldnât suspect someone without evidence. Even if I were the culprit, your accusation is unpleasant."
"No, this is made of Black Ironwood! Itâs incredibly hard! Gideon and Patty couldnât break it! Who else could it be...?"
Suddenly, Quentin stopped mid-sentence, looking startled, and turned to me with a guilty expression.
"âŚCould it have been you?"
"Huh?"
Me?
...No, Iâm a frail new knight. Thereâs no way I could break such a thick table.
However, Quentin, who seemed to have misunderstood something, forced a smile and spoke to me.
"âŚNo, it was you. Actually, thatâs a relief. I was having trouble with this table being too big. Iâve always thought it would be more convenient if it were half the size. Thank you for splitting it in two."
Cyril began to look at Quentin with a disturbed expression.
"Quentin, youâve eaten something bad. You donât seem to realize it, but your behavior is completely abnormal."
"Shut up, Cyril. If you want to survive until next year, listen to me."
"Your speech is odd because youâre not used to it. âŚYes, I did say Iâd play along with your game, but I still donât understand the rules."
"I know. Honestly, I donât fully understand what Iâm doing either."
"âŚYour words are incoherent. Perhaps the long expedition has affected your brain?"
...Hmm.
I watched the two leaders argue, feeling troubled.
I understand that Cyril and Quentin have a good relationship, but how long will this ridiculous conversation continue?
I need to go meet Charlotte soon.
As I fidgeted in my discomfort, Cyril noticed and spoke to me.
"Whatâs wrong, Fia? Is something bothering you?"
"Well, I have an appointment with Charlotte, and Iâd like to step out if thatâs okay."
"Who is Charlotte? A knight from the Fourth Monster Knights?"
"No, sheâs a holy maiden who lives in the castle. Weâre going to give healing potions to her injured familiar today."
Hearing my honest answer, Cyril seemed momentarily speechless.
"âŚHas the holy maiden allowed you to call her by name? And to accompany her?"
"Well, yes. Charlotte seems lonely living away from her family, so she might think of me as a mother figure."
Recalling when Charlotte asked me to call her by name, I answered, and Cyril made a sour face.
"I donât know how old the holy maiden is, but she must be at least ten. I donât think you could have a child at five, so itâs more likely she sees you as a sister⌠if she sees you at all. And Iâm more comfortable with the sister role. A holy maiden educated by you as a mother would be terrifying to be around."
"Come on, Cyril. Itâs a funny joke from the leader of the First Knights. Being afraid of such a small holy maiden."
I laughed at Cyrilâs joke.
While laughing, I remembered something important and turned to Cyril.
"Cyril, let me introduce you. This is my cute familiar, Zabiria. She became a familiar at age zero, so Iâm essentially her mother."
As I stroked Zabiriaâs head, she closed her eyes in pleasure.
I couldnât help but laugh, and then I heard Quentinâs hoarse voice.
"Fia, Fia, Fia. âŚPerhaps itâs better to call your familiar by the first letter of their name?"
"Huh? The first letter of their name?"
I tried to recall something from my memory.
...I remember Gideonâs familiar was also called by a letter.
"Y-Yes. If you call the familiar by their full name, someone might overhear and use it. âŚHa, I imagined it for a moment, but itâs a spine-chilling thoughtâŚ"
As he spoke, Quentin ran his fingers through his hair.
"Familiars dislike being called by their name by anyone other than their master, so all our familiars are called by letters. B-But, if your familiar is proud of their name, calling them by a letter isnât recommended. In that case, never, under any circumstances, call your familiarâs name in front of others."
Quentin emphasized this with great intensity.
Hmm, as expected of the leader of the Monster Knights. He really knows his stuff. Youâre great, Quentin!
"I see. That makes sense."
As I nodded in agreement, Gideon laughed mockingly.
"Leader, thereâs no need to teach our rules to someone who got a familiar by sheer luck! Besides, calling the name of such a weak familiar wonât cause much trouble. At worst, they might peck you. Right, Zabiria⌠gah!!"
Gideon didnât finish his sentence because Quentin had forcefully kneed him in the stomach.