The princess spoke to me.
"Explain."
So I explained everything.
Hooo.
After hearing the whole story, the princess let out a long sigh. She spoke to Hans and Marcus.
"Raise your heads. You are not at fault."
"Thank you, Your Highness."
"We are deeply sorry, Your Highness."
The two men raised their heads. Hans's and Marcus's faces were still covered in cold sweat. Was this the normal reaction of a commoner facing a princess?
I recalled the first time I met the princess. -‘Her Highness the Princess has graced us with her presence, how could we possibly serve ordinary tea.’ I might have been quite insufferable... I should be more humble from now on.
Princess Isolde spoke to me.
"To think I doubted your actions, even for a moment. I am a failure as your superior."
"Not at all. If our positions were reversed, I would have misunderstood as well."
"..."
"Ah! By reversed positions, I don't mean the treasonous act of imagining myself as a member of the imperial family, but..."
"Enough. I understand perfectly."
A smile touched the princess's lips.
"Isaac, you are very kind-hearted as well."
"..."
Kind-hearted.
Was that a word you could use for a man in his twenties? It sounded like asking, ‘What is the heat in degrees Celsius?’ The unit for heat is calories or joules.
It cannot be Celsius. Likewise, the word ‘kind-hearted’ couldn't be attached to a healthy adult man.
Oso-so.
I got goosebumps. I discreetly glanced around at the atmosphere. The assassin who fainted after having his fingers cut off, I'll pass on him for now.
Marcus was nodding his head, and Hans was desperately trying to hold back his laughter.
"..."
My eyes met Hans's. The next moment, Hans's expression hardened completely. I asked the princess.
"So, what will be the disposition for the Winterheart family?"
"During wartime, friendly fire can be subject to collective punishment. I could annihilate the Winterheart family. Is that what you wish?"
"..."
It didn't sound like she was joking. A person's life or death depended on what I said right here. I told her, "I do not wish for collective punishment."
"Why not?"
"The ones who sinned are the head of the family and his son. I do not wish for the other members of the family to shed blood."
"A beautiful, but soft-hearted approach."
I did not back down.
"No, Your Highness. I am not soft-hearted, but rather keenly aware of profits."
"Explain further."
"What is more profitable? Smashing the Winterheart family now and plundering them, or keeping them alive and collecting a steady stream of revenue from them over time?"
"... The latter."
Even in terms of losses, keeping the Winterhearts alive was more beneficial. Crushing the Winterhearts now would certainly be satisfying. But the problems would only increase.
Eventually, another ruler would have to be appointed for that region, and who would do that? It's an incredible hassle. Better to outsource it to the ones who were already good at it.
Put a leash on the Winterheart family and methodically collect the price for their assassination attempt. I will keep collecting. Even after the family head dies, and even after his death, because this is the story they started.
The princess asked me.
"It seems you have a specific plan in mind."
"I have prepared a draft."
I took out a bundle of papers I had prepared in advance from my coat and handed them to her.
"Hmm..."
The princess slowly read through the document. The core idea was simple. On the surface, it would be framed as an 'investment' for the development of the Winterheart territory.
This would reduce the backlash from other noble families. We would invest in normalizing the territory's outdated production facilities and grant tax reductions to the fief's residents. Of course, all profits from the invested sectors would be tax-exempt and would come to us.
"... So you mean to win the favor of the people and financially bleed the family dry."
The princess saw through my intentions at once.
"The reparations are not so exorbitant that they would declare insolvency, but just right."
"That is very important."
If you demand too much in reparations, they'll just throw their hands up and give up. The princess shook her head with a weary look.
"Those who incur your resentment should be careful. You intend to sever their family line without shedding a single drop of blood."
She continued.
"Very well. I distrusted you just a moment ago, so this time, I will trust you. Do it your way."
And so, the 'Winterheart Colonization Project' began.
A few days later, Giuseppe returned from his business trip.
"Isaac! Have you been well?"
"... Yes. Of course."
Let's keep it a secret that I barely showed up to the lab while Giuseppe was away. Giuseppe said, "I properly relayed your achievements to Professor Doloren."
"What was his reaction?"
"He told me not to lie."
"... What kind of person is he?"
"He gave me an earful, asking if I was so lonely in the capital by myself that I had to bring him fabricated data like this."
"So how did you convince him?"
"I didn't. Most of your deeds are the kind one can't believe without seeing them in person."
"Pardon...?"
"I told him to come and see for himself later."
Giuseppe grinned and changed the subject.
"So, what happened with Cayenne?"
"He failed his thesis defense. He couldn't get his master's degree."
Hehehe, Giuseppe laughed.
"I couldn't stand those bastards from that school, so good job! So, did the Winterheart family just stand by and do nothing?"
"That's being handled right now."
"Hmm. Since you're on the case, I'm sure it will be taken care of."
He patted me on the shoulder and added.
"The semester is about to end, and you won't have much to do for a while, so get some good rest."
"... Excuse me?"
Nothing to do? What did that mean? Wasn't it the unwritten rule of graduate school to draft research proposals and budget plans for the next semester at the end of the current one?
"... Does the Magic Tower have vacations?"
At my question, Giuseppe looked at me as if I were a strange creature.
"Of course. Even mages need to rest when it's time to rest."
"..."
As Giuseppe had said, the atmosphere in the Magic Tower was quite different from before. The faces of the graduate students, which should have been sullen, were full of life. I knew that expression.
It was the 'face of an undergraduate at the end of the semester,' waiting for vacation. Vacation is coming. I watched the scene blankly while eating 'hangover soup' with Liam.
"What are you looking at so intently?"
Liam asked.
"Liam... it's vacation, vacation."
"Right. Less than a week left."
It felt awkward. A vacation for a graduate student. The winter sun had never felt as warm as it did today.
Liam chuckled.
"Are you that happy?"
"Liam, you wouldn't understand my feelings. I'm actually from a world where graduate students have no vacations, no holidays, and no human rights."
"... Pardon?"
"Sounds like nonsense, doesn't it? I wish it were nonsense too."
It seems there are times when a status-based society is better than a liberal democracy. I asked Liam.
"Where are you going for vacation, Liam?"
"I'm thinking of going to help my father with his work."
"Helping with the family business. How romantic."
Somehow, Liam's family seems like they would be warm. Like they would run a ranch or something?
"No. My family supplies lumber to the military."
"Oh."
Not just a small merchant guild, but supplying the military... So Liam was a rich young master too. I should try to get closer to him.
I asked the people I had gotten to know what they would be doing during the vacation. Elara said she needed to earn money during the break. So I recommended the Hans Mercenary Corps.
They were likely short on mages, so it would be a perfect fit.
"Everyone is leaving."
I sat on a bench in the Magic Tower's central garden and looked up at the sky. But why does the Magic Tower bother sending students home? If they kept them in the labs during vacation, they could extract more results...
Just then, Gwendolyn suddenly appeared in my line of sight.
"Whoa."
"Isaac, are you wrestling with some serious problem? Your brow is all furrowed."
I asked her honestly.
"I'm having a hard time understanding the concept of a vacation in graduate school."
At my question, Gwendolyn stared at me blankly for a moment, then burst out laughing, clutching her stomach.
"Pffft! Ahaha! Isaac, you're a really funny person."
"... Is what I said that funny?"
"Think about it. Who are most of the students at the Magic Tower?"
"Nobles... ah."
"That's right. If you keep the children of nobles tied down in the capital indefinitely, it's not education, it's confinement. Do you think the provincial lords would stand for that?"
Now I understood. Come to think of it, something similar had happened in Earth's history. Gwendolyn asked me.
"Do you have any plans to go anywhere for vacation, Isaac?"
"No. I plan to stay in the capital during the break."
"Oh. Then would you like to come visit my family's territory?"
"..."
Gwendolyn's territory.
Was she talking about the place where Count Ludwig was? -‘Was the wine my daughter offered you to your liking?’ If I actually go just because she invited me, I feel like something terrible will happen... I gave a suitable reply.
"Actually, I'm waiting for someone here in the capital."
"Is that so?"
It wasn't an excuse, it was the truth. Gwendolyn smacked her lips in disappointment and said.
"Then it can't be helped. See you next semester."
At the castle of the northern Winterheart family. Arcard Winterheart, the family head, opened a small box that had arrived from the capital. Inside, a severed finger lay as if it were a trophy.
"Oh. It finally arrived."
Arcard chuckled as he picked up the finger from the box. The finger was not in good condition. It was shriveled and dry, as if all the blood had been drained, making it impossible to tell whose hand it was from.
Still, he was very satisfied with this.
"I'll have to reward the assassin generously."
Arcard muttered to himself, holding the severed finger. But underneath the finger, a small letter was tucked away. Something... felt off.
"..."
Arcard silently lifted the piece of parchment.
[Come to the capital. We have things to discuss. If you do not comply, I will send more pieces.] - [P.S. – I find it regrettable that your son will be unable to wear his wedding ring.]
"More pieces? Wedding ring...?"
Could it be...
Duddle-duddle-duddle.
Arcard's hand trembled. He hurriedly put the finger back into the box. His son's marriage.
The finger for the wedding ring. The ring finger of the left hand.
"Ah... ahh...."
A terrible hypothesis formed in Arcard's mind. What if this finger wasn't 'Isaac Upperhills's'? What if that lawless bastard had cut off Cayenne's finger in the capital and sent it?
His eyes returned to the words written on the parchment.
[... If you do not comply, I will send more pieces.]
'More pieces.'
His son's other fingers. Toes, ears, nose, eyes. Just the thought of it made his blood run cold.
His jaw trembled uncontrollably.
"No. No! You demonic bastard!"
Arcard lost his senses and roared. Arcard wanted to run to the capital right now and wring Isaac Upperhills's neck.
[Come to the capital.]
"Yes, I'm coming... I'll go...!"
He muttered like a man half-mad and immediately prepared to head for the capital.