zChapter 59 - Arc 3, Waxing Moon (1/2)

Arc 3, Waxing Moon

Ernst couldn’t simply wait around while the merchants sought out prospects for those books. In the worst case scenario, if those books were sold as paper, then the amount of paper they would turn into would be worth 100 aquia at most. Although it didn’t do much to offset the shortage, every one aquia they saved now would be an aquia they didn’t have to gather later.

“I had never seen this storehouse opened in my time here,” Sington said, looking up at the warehouse.

“Huum. So no one knows just what had been placed inside, then.”

It was a large warehouse with white walls.

“Yes, that should be the case. When I had been serving the previous Lord, at least, it had already been shut like this.”

A number of warehouses had been built in the Lord’s estate. The majority of them contained emergency stores of food and firewood for the winter. Yet, there was only one warehouse which showed no sign of being opened even before the 100-year absence of a ruling Lord – perhaps because its key had been lost. At this moment, Ernst and Sington stood in front of this very unopened warehouse.

“Since we don’t have the key, I think that it will be impossible to open it… But even if we did get this open, I doubt that there would be anything inside. These warehouses are for the Lord’s emergency stores, after all.”

“I’m thinking the same, to be frank, however… I feel that if there is even a one-in-a-million chance that something is inside, we ought to try for it.”

He and Sington both looked up at the warehouse.

A sturdy lock sealed the warehouse. It was made not of wood, but of iron.

“If it had been made of wood, we could have used an axe to break it, but it’s impossible for an axe to work on such thick iron as this.”

As Sington’s words suggested, the depth of the lock was about the same size as one of Ernst’s fists.

“Huum… This really is quite difficult, I see.”

“What can be done… Maybe Sir Ganche would be able to do something about… but, no, never mind, no matter how strong Sir Ganche is, a lock this thick is…” Sington muttered, twisting his head around.

Since Ganche was the partner of Ernst, the Lord, Sington very earnestly and seriously referred to Ganche with an honorific title. Though Ganche himself had said that being called this way didn’t really suit him, Sington seemed unwilling to concede on this point. When Ernst thought about it, Sington was actually the only person in the estate who had served the previous Lord. In those days, the butlers and maids served the estate in a long and unbroken line of heritage, handing down the history of the estate to each new generation. Through that, Sington had mostly likely undergone rigid training when it came to courtesy.

Yet nonetheless, Sington had only been able to serve the previous Lord for ten years before the Lord passed away; and before then, the previous Lord had shut himself away in his estate as a recluse, so there had not been a single opportunity for Sington to display that courteous behavior for his Lord.

Sington himself thought that he had been trained in courtesy, but in Ernst’s eyes, such training only seemed to draw alienating boundaries and limitations.

But despite this, Sington still thought that he had to call the Lord and the Lord’s partner and children with respectful honorifics, so even if Ganche pulled an awkward and uncomfortable face every time Sington called him, Sington still persisted in addressing him that way. [1]

As the two of them loitered in front of the warehouse, Ganche and Aldo came over after having been called for by Ernst.

“Aldo, do you know where the key to this warehouse might be?” Sington asked. Aldo had served for many years at the estate as part of the militia.

But Aldo’s response was the same as what Sington had said before. “No… I had never even seen this warehouse opened before, either.”

“Ganche. Are you able to break this lock?” Ganche looked at the iron lock Ernst pointed at, and nodded.

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Ganche said, and after he had made sure that Ernst stood a sufficiently safe distance away, he drew out the greatsword at his hip. Ganche gripped the handle using both hands, and as he bellowed out a ‘hn’ battle cry, swung down.

After a flash that couldn’t be perceived by the eye, a dull clang sounded as the iron lock split in two. The clumps of iron fell and sunk into the ground. Ganche easily scooped them up and tossed them away, and just as simply put a hand to the door handle and opened the heavy door.

Ganche stood to the side, making way to follow Ernst, who took the lead to enter. In this warehouse which hadn’t been opened for more than a hundred years, a somehow heavy atmosphere hung in the air. Perhaps it was because other than the one door that had been opened, there was no other path for the air to flow. This atmosphere, like that inside of a heavy cage, had a peculiar smell to it.

Ernst stopped walking forward and waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. The warehouse had no transom windows which would have let light inside. It was dimand dark, with no light other than the sunlight which spilled from the open door.

“There are some objects that have been kept inside this warehouse.”

If anyone was going to say this, it would, of course, be a Dunbertian. Among the Kleber, not a single person’s eyes had yet adjusted to the darkness, but Ganche’s eyes could accurately see the insides of the warehouse.

“I see tableware and furniture, as well as what seem to be rugs and the like.”

At this point, Ernst’s eyes could also finally see. Just as Ganche said, the various objects used for the estate had been tidily tucked away here.

“This is…!”

Sington rushed over to a shelf. It was no wonder; even from faraway, one could see just what kind of goods were there. At the very least, these goods could still be used even after they had been abandoned behind a lock whose key had been lost for over a hundred years. Ernst looked up at the mountain of goods, and he expressed his thanks to his previous generations of Lords.

“Lord Ernst. Seems like quite a lot of things have been brought out of that warehouse, eh?” Targes said as he passed the door into Ernst’s office.

Ernst paused in his writing, and he laughed. “Yes, exactly so… It seems that all of the Lords who have ruled Meissen enjoy leaving behind surprises for people.”

“…What do you mean by that?” Targes tilted his head. Ernst prompted him to take a seat in one of the chairs encircling the large desk, and as Ernst gathered a sheaf of papers in his hands, he sat on the other side of Targes.

“This is something which also came out of that warehouse.”

He passed several papers over to Targes.

Targes looked through every one of those papers, then lifted his head, surprise on his face. “So that warehouse was actually planned as a treasure chest…” Targes murmured in wonder, and at those words, Ernst nodded.

On each of these sheets of paper, the differing names of various Lords were written, accompanied by the same words: If the Lord of the next generation is ever faced by troubled times, make use of this.