# Chapter 72
Arden didn’t notice Rite and first checked the room’s fireplace. Crouching in front of it with his back to Rite, he continued their conversation.
“Why didn’t you tell me you speak in dialect?”
“…Did I really need to mention that?”
Anyway, Arden wasn’t currently using dialect himself. He had corrected his speech pattern to standard language so long ago that speaking in dialect would actually feel awkward now.
Rite’s eyebrows twitched slightly.
“Winterishe has its own dialect too. It’s just not as strong as Kamalon’s.”
Arden said this as he rose from in front of the fireplace. Having checked everything, he planned to skip breakfast and rest a little in bed.
I’m fine since I don’t have an appetite, but what about Rite?
The thought suddenly occurred to him, and when he looked at Rite, he found that Rite was already approaching the adjacent bed. He had completely hidden his disappointment and wore a casual expression. He didn’t want to say anything unpleasant to Arden who had come all this way with him.
“What’s the Winterishe dialect like?”
“Hmm… it shows in certain words. Like ‘mi-an’ and ‘mi-an’. ‘Mun’ and ‘mun’, that kind of thing.”
Arden awkwardly imitated the dialect while furrowing his brow. So that was the dialect. Rite muttered quietly as he leaned diagonally against the bed’s headboard.
“What about me?”
“Huh?”
“Do I use it too?”
“No, you don’t. Maybe because you’ve been with me since you were little.”
Rite tilted his head and looked at Arden. Now that he thought about it, something was strange. Why hadn’t he ever noticed Arden speaking in dialect before?
“Arden is from Kamalon, so why don’t you speak in dialect?”
Arden hesitated for a moment. Without realizing it, he raised his hand to fiddle with his earlobe as he answered.
“…I corrected it when I was staying at the Imperial Palace.”
“Why?”
“Just… everyone said it was hard to understand.”
“It wasn’t that bad.”
Rite replied with one eye squinted. It sounded a bit unfamiliar, but not to the point of being unintelligible.
“What about Pini then? Pini doesn’t use dialect either.”
“That’s because Plin made Pini to use standard language. Plin didn’t use dialect either.”
When he was young, Arden was the only one at home who spoke in dialect. Most people at the orphanage used dialect, so even among Plin and Pini who didn’t use it, Arden habitually continued to speak in dialect. It was remarkable that the dialect that hadn’t been corrected for over ten years was fixed within just one year of staying at the Imperial Palace.
Come to think of it, Plin was also an engineer affiliated with the Imperial Palace. Arden finally guessed why Plin didn’t use dialect. He must have gone through the same process as himself.
“They said they serve breakfast here, so go eat if you’re hungry.”
“Not really. I’d rather rest here.”
Rite, who had claimed not to be tired at the train station, quickly changed his attitude. Arden had no desire to force someone to eat who didn’t want to, so he added nothing more.
As Arden also lay down on the bed, his eyes closed automatically. He seemed to have slept quite a bit on the train, but perhaps because he hadn’t fallen into a deep sleep, drowsiness overcame him.
Just before falling asleep, in the boundary between dream and reality, Arden had one question.
Why did I specifically check if that man was from Kamalon?
It was a belated question. Whether the hotel owner was from Kamalon or not had little relevance to him. If anything, by revealing that he too was from Kamalon, he had made a mistake. In a situation where he should leave no trace of himself, he had revealed his hometown, which could be a disadvantage.
But. Somehow, that speech pattern had felt welcoming. Like a trace of his hometown that he hadn’t heard for over 10 years.
* * *
By the time Arden woke up after replenishing his sleep, the sun was fully risen. It was a bit late to call it morning, but too early to be lunchtime.
Rite had rolled over toward Arden’s bed and was sound asleep. As Arden was about to get up from bed, he looked at Rite’s sleeping face.
Arden felt sorry for Rite. An innocent child who had lived only in the forest, following stifling rules. Having grown up with someone as lacking as himself, Arden thought there must be deficiencies in Rite’s life. Nevertheless, he had grown up so admirably, and now he was about to be burdened with the weight of other people’s conflicts.
All this talk of fate and destiny was disgusting. If it was already determined who would live miserably and who would grow up happily without lacking anything, wouldn’t everything be too meaningless? Arden thought about the meaning of life, something he had never considered before. Such abstract and philosophical concepts were difficult for Arden’s mind to imagine, but at least he didn’t think life was meant to be at the mercy of such a fate.
Neither god nor emperor appealed to Arden. They both made him, Rite, and countless others feel like small parts in a huge machine. Like cogs that had to turn themselves endlessly for the sake of a large machine.
After staring at Rite’s face for a while, Arden went downstairs first. There were things he needed to check.
“So praying would be the best…”
“Talk sense, Adriang. You know how much we’ve prayed. This is beyond divine intervention now.”
Arden stopped on the stairs when he heard the voices. As the middle-aged woman cut off the hotel owner and responded firmly, the owner drooped his eyebrows dejectedly.
“Then is there a way to solve it?”
“If only we had a magician or an engineer…”
“Have you been in contact with the magician in Idelven, Irace?”
Engineer. And a magician in Idelven. At those words, Arden scrutinized the two carefully. The woman called Irace was standing with her arms leaning on the counter in front of the hotel owner. Her tall stature, sturdy build, tanned skin, and the white strands visible among her well-maintained long black hair were particularly noticeable. Her face wasn’t fully visible, but her fast speech and rigid tone gave her a fierce impression.
“Not at all. I heard he’s famous for his bad temper… I must have sent a hundred letters, but they’ve all been returned.”
“What about an engineer?”
Before Adriang could finish speaking, Arden continued down the stairs. He was in luck. He had been looking for a way to naturally find work without arousing suspicion. Plus, a magician in Idelven. This was an opportunity to solve two problems at once. Walking briskly to the counter without muffling his footsteps, Irace and Adriang turned to look at him as they sensed his presence.
“That engineer from before… Oh, are you coming down for a meal?”
“…What’s this?”
Adriang greeted Arden happily in dialect when he saw him. Irace looked at Arden once, then at Adriang who was using dialect, and furrowed her brow.
“I overheard your conversation as I was coming down. You said you need an engineer.”
Arden spoke in precise standard language, enunciating clearly. Trust was necessary for this kind of thing, and people of all kinds liked those from Moran.
“Ah, perhaps…”
“I know how to do engineering work.”
Instead of introducing himself as an engineer, Arden said he knew how to do engineering. Irace seemed to understand the implication as she narrowed her eyes and examined Arden.
“I’m most confident with equipment that uses Aether power. It’s expensive, but the performance is guaranteed. I also know a bit of alchemy, so you don’t need to worry about procuring Aether.”
“Where are you from?”
“…Moran. I’m on my way back there now.”
“And he’s originally from Kamalon!”
Arden calmly told a lie in response to Irace’s question. Adriang interjected from the side, but neither Arden nor Irace paid attention.
“Shall we move somewhere else to talk? Let me take you to my house.”
When Arden nodded, Irace removed her arms from the counter and stood up. After leaving a brief greeting to Adriang, she turned and headed for the door first. Arden was about to follow but stopped and looked back.
“If my companion wakes up and comes down, please tell him I’ve stepped out briefly. Tell him I’ll be back soon, so he shouldn’t worry and should eat first.”
“Got it! I’ll do my best to share the taste of Kamalon with him!”
At Adriang’s spirited voice, Arden walked out of the establishment.
* * *
Arden’s eyes darted rapidly as he entered Irace’s house. It was because of a familiar object placed there.
“Would you like to sit on that sofa? I’ll bring you some warm tea.”
“…Yes.”
After barely composing his expression, he answered and sat on the sofa Irace had pointed to. The world was truly small. He never expected to see an object he had handled in a place he had traveled to by train for over thirty-three hours.
The music box he had touched when Markus delivered requests from acquaintances living in other regions was placed in the display cabinet. It wasn’t an old item, but it had been made by an unskilled engineer, as the inside was crude and sloppy. Since they had asked to keep the exterior decorations as they were, he had been especially careful while completely dismantling and fixing the interior of that music box.
So this person is Markus’s acquaintance.
Arden glanced in the direction where Irace had disappeared. When told it was Markus’s acquaintance, he had thought they would be from Menden, which was relatively close, but he hadn’t expected to meet them so soon. And for work issues, at that.
