Chapter 55
I opened the bottle.
Pop—a blue light burst out from inside.
It was kind of fascinating.
‘What kind of principle makes a liquid glow on its own?’
“Don’t drink it. Who knows what it’s made from.”
“Of course not.”
I closed the cap again.
“There sure are a lot of these bottles.”
Even a quick glance revealed more than a hundred.
There could’ve been more hidden elsewhere, but the visible amount alone was quite substantial.
“There are more behind the bookshelf,” one maid said.
“Really? I’ll handle that.”
Luckily, I had my all-purpose wind-courier bird, Sirin.
—Oh! Finally called upon? If you’ve summoned the brilliant, all-purpose porter Sirin, then naturally…
Sirin circled the room proudly, chattering with self-praise. But after less than half a loop, it stopped abruptly.
And then, after a few seconds—
—What?! Where did you get that? Where did that come from?!
Sirin flew straight to the bottles, tapping them with its beak like it was ready to smash them.
“What’s wrong? What is it?”
—Spirit blood!
“What?”
—It’s essence made by squeezing the blood out of my kind!
My mouth fell open.
I was the only one here who knew about oral rehydration treatment, so I assumed Marienne had developed her cure using some other method.
But to think this was that method…
“How would you even obtain spirit blood…?”
—Only one way! You have to form a contract with a spirit.
That’s the only way they can physically manifest in the real world.
Sirin trembled with rage, calling humans the cruelest beings, but I was focusing elsewhere.
That meant whoever made that cure… was a spirit contractor.
‘But Marienne wasn’t a spirit contractor.’
There was only one conclusion.
Other spirit contractors exist besides me…
‘And that contractor must be cooperating with the Duke.’
The one who had contracted with Sirin wasn’t me, but the real Laura.
So technically, once I possessed her body, the contract should’ve been void.
—No! I absolutely refuse to end our contract! I don’t want to go back to the Spirit Realm!
Sirin was adamantly opposed.
—I’ll treat you well, dear customer! If you sign with me now, one more spirit contract—poof! Oh! Getting a spirit contract is easier than entering the National Academy! You’ll get twice the spirits without even trying! A once-in-a-lifetime deal!
…What was with these bizarre ad lines?
Anyway, since Sirin was crying and begging, and the terms weren’t bad, I decided to keep the contract.
And during that process, I learned a few things.
[There really aren’t any other spirit contractors in the Empire?]
—As far as I know, that’s right.
Most spirits spend their time trapped in the barren, joyless Spirit Realm unless they’re chosen by a spirit contractor.
[So how does that “choosing” even work? Can I just pick any spirit I want?]
—Nope.
Sirin snorted.
—Your body does the choosing. The contractor’s qualities have to perfectly match the spirit’s attributes. It’s kind of like destiny.
[So even if you introduce me to one, I can’t contract them unless we’re compatible?]
—Uh… yep.
What kind of unreliable spirit was this?
Anyway, thanks to Sirin, I was able to contract with Akaphilace, and I also picked up more info on spirit contractors.
They were extremely rare in this world.
And if any remained, chances were high they were blood relatives of mine.
‘Spirit contractor abilities are passed down through bloodlines.’
Suddenly, I remembered something the Marquis had said before he died:
[Actually, your mother is still alive!]
[Aren’t you curious? Don’t you want to meet your mother?!]
That Marquis had secretly been working with the Duke.
If what he said was true…
And if there really was a spirit contractor helping the Duke…
‘Then that contractor might be my mother.’
Even if it turned out to be true, what difference would it make?
What would I even do if I found Laura’s real mother?
And if she really was working with the Duke, then she was my enemy.
That would mean we might draw swords the moment we met.
‘…Honestly, I hope she’s just a distant relative.’
Even I didn’t want to raise a blade against Laura’s birth mother.
Besides, now wasn’t the time to worry about a relative who might not even exist.
‘First, I need to find out if the Duke has used this plague before.’
Marienne had contaminated the well, and even prepared the cure in advance.
‘But the Duke is a perfectionist.’
And perfectionists have a fatal weakness:
They can’t tolerate even the smallest mistake.
They obsessively test their plans again and again before executing them.
‘He wouldn’t have done this without a trial run.’
‘Time to find out.’
And—
‘It’s about time I hit back too, isn’t it?’
The Duke deserved a punch or two of his own.
Supervising and managing plagues was the job of the imperial administrators.
If the population declined, tax revenues would suffer, so they meticulously recorded everything related to outbreaks in administrative files.
With possibly tens of thousands of documents to go through, I needed their cooperation.
“Don’t worry. We’ll help you look.”
“To serve the Empire and His Highness with my entire being is an honor!”
Thankfully, the majority of the administrators, including Secretary Müller, were cooperative.
…Though not for free.
“By the way, do you have any advice regarding this outbreak? Any suggestions for improving imperial public health?”
“And the treatment you developed—could it be used in other cases as well?”
The moment they sensed an opportunity, they pounced like a pack of question-hungry machines.
‘Scary… all of you.’
Still, I answered.
“Most waterborne diseases can be prevented just by boiling drinking water. Just make sure to emphasize that part.”
The best solution would be fixing the water infrastructure, but I didn’t bother saying that—the Empire wasn’t capable of that right now.
“Oral rehydration is helpful for most waterborne or diarrheal illnesses. They usually cause dehydration, so just preventing that is effective.”
Antibiotics are necessary for diseases like typhoid, but that’s not primarily a diarrheal illness, so it should be distinguishable.
I wasn’t a medical expert, so my knowledge was limited.
Still, it seemed like my input had been meaningful.
– You have contributed to the medical advancement of the Empire.
– Waterborne infections in the Empire have drastically decreased.
– Mortality from waterborne illnesses has declined.
– You have successfully altered the course of history.
– Curse alleviation will be calculated based on achievement contribution.
– Curse of Oblivion has been alleviated by 63%.
A message popped up.
‘The achievement must’ve been minor—no one’s memory came back again.’
But instead, my memory had been chipped away.
“Indeed, since the moment you instructed people to boil water, the infection rate has notably declined. If we quantify it into a report, would you have further comments?”
“Young Lady.”
“Young Lady, regarding this too…”
“…Please. Stop.”
After having every scrap of knowledge squeezed out of me like I’d been put through a threshing machine, I returned home in tatters.
But—
“…What now?”
The day wasn’t over yet.
“A gift has arrived from Lord Dindin of the Machetta Trading Company.”
Marsha said the box bore the auction house’s seal.
‘Did Dindin even win anything at the auction?’
The box was small and light.
I opened it.
And the moment I saw what was inside, my expression twisted.
“…What the hell is this?”
Inside the box was a set of Esha’s baby clothes.
It had sold for a high price at the auction…
‘Why am I getting a reverse import of something we already have at home?!’
Why send this back in this way?
