(Re:Zero) Warlock of Fascination Chapter 14: Preparing For Dinner at House Astrea

Chapter 14: Preparing For Dinner at House Astrea

(Castor Germain)

“Castor, are you sure you wouldn’t like a change of clothing?” Walter pointed at my Red Bull Racing attire, which clung to my back and had grown damp thanks to all the profuse sweating training with him had produced. “We have plenty of spare garments we’d be more than happy to give you.” 

I pressed my lips together. “I’m not sure, I’m pretty attached to this outfit. Isn’t there a spell out there to wash the sweat off?” Back on Earth, my wardrobe consisted of nothing other than fourteen pairs of what I’m wearing now—it’s iconic for me, and I’m willing to bet Subaru isn’t going to part with his tracksuit anytime soon either.

It’s like they say, Red Bull gives you wings, and I’m not ready to lose mine.

He sighed, “Shiha.” 

A wave of cool Mana washed over me, and the pungent, sweaty odour emanating from my body disappeared within seconds as my clothing cleared up.

Magic really is amazing. 

“Much obliged.”

“Your ensemble stands out a lot, Castor; if you’re going to keep wearing it, you should expect to receive a great deal of odd stares your way.” He cautioned me, clearly adamant about getting me into House Astrea’s apparel instead. “The Great Waterfall is one of, if not the greatest topic of interest in the world—regardless of what Kingdom one hails from.” 

Heh. I see what you’re doing old man.

“I doubt it’ll become a big deal; the only people who know about that at the moment are you, Reinhard, and Subaru.” 

“Subaru?” 

Whoops. I seem to have let that one slip.

Oh well, that guy’s a trouble magnet anyway. I’m sure he’d find himself involved in some deep shit with or without my involvement.

“He’s also where I’m from. I mean, not exactly where I’m from—but same shtick. He’s with another Royal Candidate called Emilia, I believe.” 

“Emilia? I see.” He repeated, the expression on his face betraying my expectations.

I thought he’d be more interested in Subaru’s origin, but his concern about Emilia appears to be overpowering that feeling. That girl must have quite the story around her to make even this old fox appear genuinely anxious.

“Is she dangerous?” All things considered, Subaru’s meddling is what helped me get access to House Astrea’s library in the first place. If there’s actually something threatening him as we speak, then I think I owe it to him to be of assistance. Besides, it’d get lonely here without any other Waterfallers nearby.

“That would depend on your definition of the word. I don’t wish to slander Lady Emilia, considering that she is, in fact, a Royal Candidate. However, there is a widespread superstition that her appearance has brewed up.” 

“Oh? Do tell.” Let’s see what you’ve dived into, protagonist. 

“Since she’s a half-elf, people tend to draw a connection between her and the world’s greatest adversary—Satella, the Witch of Envy. Who was also said to be a half-elf, and was the root of the Great Calamity that took place 400 years ago, where she laid waste to half of the world. Thankfully, the Sage, the first Sword Saint—Reid Astrea, and the Divine Dragon banded together to defeat and seal her away.” 

Sage. Reid Astrea. Divine Dragon. All figures I ought to research when I have the time. 

“Seal? Not kill?” 

“Apparently, the Witch’s power was too great to end her outright. Forcing even a group of such unparalleled might to seal her instead of permanently erase her from this world.” 

“Do we know that for sure?” I clasped my hands behind my back, my facial expression thoughtful as my mind began to contemplate. 

“No, of course not. These events all transpired 400 years ago, I highly doubt the beginning and end result are fabricated. However, the only ones who know everything that happened in between are the people who were there.” 

Good, he’s not the type to get completely swept up in the beliefs of the masses. Such a person would make for a boring conversation partner. Only those willing to question established truths are qualified to explore what truly lies behind it all. 

Don’t you think? Swordstor. 

“I could not care less.” 

Sure. 

“Is there anything concrete that actually ties Emilia to Satella—” 

“Please don’t refer to her solely by name, it’s frowned upon. It also might get you labeled as a Witch Cultist, a group of religious cult-like fanatics that commit atrocities in the Witch’s name.” He’s already gotten into the habit of clarifying things for me without it needing to be brought up. Nice.

“Very well,” I nodded. “Is there anything concrete to tie Emilia to the Witch? Beyond appearance.” 

“No clue. Like I said, it’s all superstition. I haven’t actually interacted with Lady Emilia personally, so I can’t speak for her character.” 

“From what I’ve seen of her, I don’t believe she has a malicious bone.” I shrugged, honestly, I do have my suspicions about Emilia—but they don’t really originate from her in particular. 

It’s that cat she has with her that concerns me. We barely interacted, if you could even call what he had an interaction. However, I seriously didn’t feel comfortable with the way it was looking at me. It’s like it thought I was its mother or something equally outlandish. 

I can confirm, without a shadow of a doubt, that I have not met any flying, talking cats before. 

“Perhaps, either way, it’s not my place to make comments on a Royal Candidate.” He continued to lead me through the open hallways of the Astrea estate, until the delightful scent of cooked meat started to waft through my nostrils. I’m pretty sure it’s steak, but there’s a high chance I’m wrong since I’ve never experienced this world’s cuisine. 

I’m definitely looking forward to it though.

“Ah. Grimm, you’re here.” Walter halted, a figure similar to him in both age and attire approaching us. 

He was an elderly man with short white hair, a surprisingly well-defined jawline, a snow white beard, and sharp eyes that reminded me of Subaru’s to a degree. 

Strangely enough, instead of replying to Walter, he pulled out a sheet of paper and started to write on it. 

(Is this the Young Lord’s guest?) 

“Yes, this is Castor.” Walter turned to me. “Grimm was also a Royal Guard back in the day, although one much more accomplished than I. He received a throat injury during the War and lost his voice, which is why he speaks through pen and paper.” 

“Ah, I see.” I noticed an aged scar spanning across his throat.

I imagine they’ve already tried everything they can do to fix it Magic-wise, and I doubt the medical technology to do reconstructive surgery on the laryngeal nerve exists here. If Grand Archive really works the way I believe it does, I could see if I read any medical books tackling the subject—however, I doubt it’ll be as easy as it sounds in theory.

Not only would I have to learn advanced medical techniques and textbook knowledge, I’d need to reconstruct all the equipment used in the surgery. Although, I do have Brisk Mind on my side—and there’s no rule saying I can’t combine the knowledge from my world and the knowledge from this one to create something more doable.

Food for thought. 

(Carol is almost finished preparing dinner. The Young Lord and Lady Felt await you in the dining room.) 

We followed Grimm into an expansive, lavishly decorated room with a gilded chandelier hanging from the ceiling, keeping the space well-lit. In the middle of the room was a wide, elongated dining table made out of what I believed to be some form of high-quality wood—similar to mahogany—and draped with a pristine white cloth. 

All the finely crafted silverware shimmered spotlessly, with House Astrea’s insignia meticulously crested into the bottom of each individual utensil. Much to my surprise, all the plates and napkins were being set by two pink-haired children who couldn’t be much older than twelve, although one couldn't disregard the possibility when considering a fifteen-year-old like Felt could be as small as she was.

Speaking of her. 

“Not, a word.” From the far end of the table, Felt was staring daggers at me, now clad in the bright-yellow and white dress I had seen Reinhard chasing her around with. How unfortunate, I guess not even her legs can carry her out of the perverted Sword Saint’s clutches.

“Pfft.” I cupped my hand over my mouth, my lips quivering as I vehemently held in the urge to laugh.

“Castor, I’m warning you.” 

Lord, why do you test me? 

Especially when it’s a test I have no chance of passing. 

“Bahahahahahaha! You look ridiculous!” I pointed at her, a vein bulging out of her forehead as she slowly rose from her seat. 

“That’s it. " Her voice dropped to a low, threatening pitch, and her hands shifted towards the butter knife placed beside her. 

Wait, surely she isn’t going to—

Swoosh! 

The sharp utensil came flying at me, forcing me to activate Mark of the Scribe as I narrowly avoided losing an eye. 

“Hey! That’s attempted murder!” 

“I know! The plan is to make it a successful murder!” 

Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh! 

One after the other, Felt continued to hurl pointy silverware at me, forcing me to run behind Walter for cover—the butler effortlessly catching each fork and knife she threw and setting it back down. 

“Sir Walter! Do something about her! She’s gone rabid!” 

“Coward! You’re hiding behind an old man!” 

“She did warn you,” Walter sighed—rearranging all the cutlery one by one. “Also, I suggest the two of you behave yourselves before—” 

“Before I intervene,” a woman around Walter’s age stepped out of the kitchen. Her hair a light-gray with very faint strands of blonde mixed in between them, and her eyes a fierce bright green, still chalk full of vigour despite her age. “Lady Felt, I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t mess with the cutlery my grandchildren spent time carefully setting.” She folded her arms, clearly unamused.

“S-sorry…” Felt quickly deflated under her watchful gaze, returning to her seat. 

“Heh,” that’s what she gets for trying to kill me. 

“And you as well,” she turned to me, her imposing glare sending a sharp chill down my spine. “Even if you are the Young Lord’s guest, you’re still expected to show proper respect to one of Lugunica’s Royal Candidates.” 

“Sorry…” I ended up succumbing to the same fate as her. 

“This is Carol,” Walter introduced. “She’s Grimm’s wife, and also a veteran of the Demi-Human war. She does most of the cooking around here, although the Young Lord likes to help out occasionally.” 

“Please Walter, there’s no need to mention the war around children.” She shook her head, bringing out plates of what looked to be beautifully roasted sirloin steak—one of the plates having steak chopped up into extremely small pieces, which I assume is for Grimm since it’ll be easier for him to digest without having to worry about any complications in his esophagus. 

How thoughtful. 

“Reinhard told me that you’re from beyond the waterfall.” She narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing me in depth. “I heard about the little spectacle you put on at the training grounds—and I see that you’ve already made a friend.” She made a subtle nod at Lily, who was still out and about. 

Reinhard, how many people do you plan on telling about my origin? Please try to be a little more subtle. 

At some point, I’m going to need Lily to go back into the glintstone since I’d rather not have the words Spirit Arts User hovering above my head in bright neon letters at all times. However, I have a feeling that’s going to be quite the challenge. 

Oh well, she’s just a baby by spirit standards. I should just be lenient for the time being until she evolves.

“I wasn’t expecting to contract a spirit, actually, at the time I didn’t even know what a spirit was. I’m quite fortunate to have been given the opportunity.” I answered calmly, careful not to give anything away about my Authority of Fascination as per usual—a trend I plan on continuing until I understand what this power really is.

“Fortunate doesn’t explain how you were able to connect to one hundred spirits, especially the temperamental ones gathered around the Tree of Reid, all at the same time without being burned to ashes.” 

Wait, there was a chance of something like that happening? 

Now that I recall… Walter did try to warn me about something before I went ahead and talked to the Fire Spirits. Maybe I ought to take his warnings a little more seriously from now on? 

Also, Carol seems to be awfully suspicious of me. It’s probably just fear of the unknown—I don’t see why that wouldn’t be common here as well, especially after hearing Walter’s story about the Envious Witch. 

“Oh, Castor—you’re here.” Reinhard stepped into the room, thankfully shifting the focus away from me. “Good,” for some reason, he was holding an outfit that looked alarmingly similar to the black uniform he was wearing under his white coat. 

“Hehe,” I heard a stifled giggle escape Felt from across the room.

Oh fuck.