"So even killing your brother-in-law was an act?"
Shore didn't answer right away.
"Wait, is even having a sister a lie?"
"I have a sister. But my sister doesn't marry weaklings. She's like me."
"In what way?"
"Dragon's blood."
Both siblings possessed the abilities of dragon descendants.
I glanced at Kuuluk. I saw him nod.
It seemed they were quite famous siblings among the Kuman tribe.
"That damn woman still hasn't gotten married. Can't find anyone she likes. Says she doesn't want a weak man or something. The way I see it, she's going to die an old maid... When I become chieftain, I'll have to marry her off by force."
"But that guy earlier seemed to believe you."
Shore's smile disappeared.
"Do you know how many Kuman tribesmen that bastard killed?"
"What?"
"You think he'd remember each one? I don't remember every Imperial I've killed either. Steppe people who lost family to that bastard? There must be hundreds. I just picked one and said it. It was improvised. Sounds plausible, doesn't it?"
"You thought that would work?"
"It did work. Did you see his face? He went pale."
Celine, usually quick with her words, couldn't find anything to say.
Shore chuckled as if everything had gone according to plan.
"With this, he's gotten closer to becoming chieftain of the Golden Bear tribe."
Kuuluk whispered.
Seeing him grinning like that, he seemed intoxicated by the feeling that the world was going his way. But there was something he didn't know.
The clash between the Golden Bear and Müller. I had orchestrated it.
Their long-standing grudge. Dozens recorded in books alone.
Including those not recorded, there would be even more.
The oil had already been spread. All I needed was to throw a spark.
The result...
As you can see.
In the end, they moved on my board.
"By the way, that little lady our baby dragon sent—do you think she can torture well?"
I hadn't assigned her the interrogation to torture him.
But there was no reason to reveal that here.
"Of course. She's never disappointed me."
"Really?"
Shore turned around. He leaned against the window and crossed his arms.
"I heard you made quite a profit in the south."
"News travels fast."
"The scout unit contacted me. Said you brought several carts of iron ingots alone."
How much does this guy know?
"So?"
"I'll contact you about that next time."
"What?"
"It'd be good to have lots of iron. We'll have use for it soon too. Ah, don't worry. I'll pay you well."
The door closed.
That bastard. Is he planning to start a civil war within the Golden Bear tribe?
Anyway, if he's paying, it would be better to receive goods rather than gold or silver. From my last trip to the capital, I'd already figured out what the Imperial capital lacked...
While I was thinking about that, Celine spoke up.
"Hey."
"Yeah."
"Since when were you in cahoots with that guy?"
"It was improvised. Lise proposed it first. Or rather than proposing... she led it."
While I was selling Cheonghongcho in the Imperial capital and dancing with the princess, that girl had captured the 6th Corps Commander on her own and even completed contact with the Golden Bear.
I just finished things up.
"Aren't you being led around too much by that girl?"
"Hm? At this point?"
"Ernst gave her to you in the first place. You never know when she might stab you in the back."
Come to think of it, that was true.
"I know."
"If you know, why are you like this?"
"I'd be dead without her."
It's not like I'm going to stop using that child now.
In that case, my conclusion was that doubting her would be idiotic.
**
The interrogation room was cramped.
Stone walls without a single window.
Georg was tied to a chair. The restraints on his wrists remained, and several days' worth of stubble had grown roughly on his face.
"How many supply lines are there from the Müller main house to the 6th Corps?"
"Three."
"What are the main waypoints?"
The answers flowed smoothly. Even Georg himself found it strange.
At first, he'd planned to hold out. I don't know anything. I don't remember. That's how he was going to play it.
But it was strange.
This girl didn't torture him. No threats, no coaxing.
She just asked questions.
"What's the grain stockpile at Hohenstein Warehouse?"
"About 3,000 sacks."
"What about iron?"
"200 geun. No, was it 300 geun?"
Only after answering did he realize. What did I just say?
"Wait."
Georg raised his head.
"What did I just say?"
Lise didn't answer. She just wrote something on the parchment in her hand.
"Hey. Answer me."
"Three supply lines. Three waypoints. Warehouse stockpiles."
She recited calmly. The information Georg had just spilled.
"This time it wasn't a lie."
At those words, Georg's back went cold.
It was a trap.
The order of questions. The tone. The timing of pauses.
Everything was calculated.
Ask about A while observing the reaction to B. If a gap shows in B, move to C. The moment you answer C, D automatically pops out.
She could instinctively discern whether it was true or false.
"Did you learn this? Where?"
Instead of answering, Lise threw the next question.
"How long does it take to reorganize the 6th Corps?"
"I won't tell you that."
"If it's 2,000 troops, two weeks. If it's 3,000, a month. Right?"
"...How do you know that?"
"You said it earlier. The warehouse stockpile is 3,000 sacks. That's two weeks' worth of provisions. That's enough for 2,000 men."
Georg's mouth closed. Lise stopped her pen and tilted her head.
She muttered as if to herself.
"But that's strange. Why did they move so hastily without even preparing supplies?"
"..."
"Ah. It was Young Master Ernst's order. He must have been anxious because of Her Highness the Princess's marriage."
Georg's shoulders stiffened. It was subtle.
But Lise didn't miss it.
The pen scratched across the parchment.
Scratch.
"What are you writing?"
"You don't need to know."
Georg felt instinctive fear.
And puzzle pieces began fitting together in his head.
"You said you finished placing the explosives three days ago, right? That came from your mouth earlier."
"Yes."
"Your master was outside then. But who planned the operation? Filling the building with explosives, luring in the Kuman cavalry, setting up an ambush on the retreat route. Who did that?"
"Obviously our young master."
"He gave orders from hundreds of li away? Does that make sense?"
Lise's expression didn't change.
But that very lack of expression was the answer.
"Heh."
Laughter leaked out. Low. Bitter.
"I see. Now I understand. The one with real talent isn't your master—it's you. The orc battle. The Kuman battle. You planned them all, didn't you?"
"I merely followed the young master's orders."
"Orders? All that brat knows how to do is stamp seals. You plan it, you execute it, and he takes the credit."
"You're not denying it?"
"What's there to deny? Very simple leading interrogation. Yet a corps commander fell for all of it. With that level of intelligence, you think you can evaluate the young master? Getting stripped bare by someone like me, yet you'd evaluate him? A bug whose wings burned in candlelight discussing a furnace? Is your head full of shit..."
Georg looked at the girl.
The girl who had just mocked him.
Twelve years old. Silver hair. An eyepatch covering one eye.
He'd known she was a smart child.
In fact, he'd known for days that it was this girl who had trapped him, who had put him in such dire straits.
But still, he'd simultaneously thought she was just a child.
But... now...
'What is this?'
The girl was just looking at him.
Like looking at dust fallen on the floor.
Something you could step on or not. Eyes looking at such a thing.
Georg had experienced countless battlefields. Been cut by swords. Hit by arrows. Survived near-death experiences. He'd seen the eyes of killers and madmen.
But this was different.
Those weren't human eyes.
His mouth went dry. His heart raced. His fingertips grew cold.
The girl didn't move. Holding her pen. Head slightly tilted. Just staring.
He couldn't breathe. He wanted to avoid her gaze. But his body was frozen.
Then.
Creak.
The sound of a door opening was heard.
To Georg, that sound felt like salvation.
**
I opened the door and entered.
Georg was tied to the chair with his head bowed.
His face was pale. The threatening attitude from earlier was completely gone.
As expected of Lise. She seemed to be doing well.
"What did you find out?"
"Three supply lines. I extracted all the major base locations and stockpile amounts too."
When is she going to fix that speech pattern?
Well, it's cute, so it's fine.
Lise held out the parchment. I took it and skimmed through. Dense writing. Neatly organized.
"Your handwriting's gotten prettier."
"Thanks to the young master teaching me well."
"How did you figure out the troop reorganization time?"
"I calculated backwards from the warehouse stockpile."
"Well done."
I folded the parchment and put it in my pocket.
I felt a presence from the corner. Georg had raised his head.
Our eyes met. No. They hadn't met.
Those eyes weren't looking at me.
At my side. At Lise.
Hmm... what's that expression? Fear?
What's so scary about such a cute child?
"There's one more piece of information to tell you."
"What is it?"
Her gaze turned to the corner. The man tied to the chair.
She wants him removed.
I gestured.
The door opened. Two knights entered.
"Take him away."
A brief command. The knights grabbed Georg's arms.
There was no resistance as he was dragged away.
The door closed.
I looked at Lise.
She hadn't opened her mouth yet. Her gaze remained on the wall.
I followed her gaze. Two escort knights were standing there.
The ones positioned on either side of the door from the beginning.
Lise's gaze returned.
Her lips moved. Stopped. Moved again.
"I'd like it to be just the two of us."
I gave the escort knights a look.
I felt a moment's hesitation. Dismissing escorts wasn't common.
"Wait outside."
"Young Master, but..."
"Wait outside the door."
The knights looked at each other. A brief exchange of glances.
They bowed and withdrew.
The door closed. Footsteps faded.
I waited until they completely disappeared.
Silence.
Only Lise and I were in the room.
"Speak."