After placing Tiamat's book into his storage space, Areth left the Green Tower and made his way back into the streets of the city. His mood was somewhat sour, because he was now officially short on money. More precisely, he no longer had enough to properly support a mercenary company.
The Landerbern treasury had been almost entirely depleted by a slave, a book, and the founding of mercenary company.
Of course, that slave alone had been worth the entirety of the Landerbern treasury, and building a mercenary company was equally valuable. As for the book, Areth had not even opened the cover yet, but he was certain he had read about it somewhere before. He could not remember exactly where it had been mentioned in the novel, yet he was convinced that at some point, this book had been important.
For now, he set the matter aside. He would read it later with a clear mind, in a quiet place.
He turned toward Rosavelle behind him, and after a brief moment of distraction at her usual beauty, he extended his hand to help her descend the tower stairs.
Still not entirely accustomed to her master's kindness, Rosavelle accepted his hand immediately, and the two of them left the tower together.
"What do you think? Shall we eat before leaving the city?" Areth asked plainly.
He was not an experienced man when it came to women, but there was no way he would pass up the chance to have a meal with one of the novel's main villainesses, especially one this beautiful. Then again, now that he thought about it, nearly every major villain in the novel had been absurdly attractive.
Perhaps recruiting every last one of them to his side had been an even better idea than he originally thought.
"Of course, Master."
Rosavelle accepted Areth's suggestion innocently, but in the next moment her expression froze when she realized that this would be the first time she had ever gone out to eat with a man. In fact, she was even more surprised when she realized it would be the first time she had ever eaten outside at all.
While she had lived in the royal palace, leaving its grounds had only been permitted during festivals or with special permission, always under the excuse of security concerns. And after becoming a slave, naturally, she had never been given such an opportunity.
After taking a deep breath to suppress her excitement, she watched her master's shoulders and hurried after him without delay.
Although the city of Olnalend was famous for its slave traders, it was also known for its cuisine, influenced by many different cultures. As a result, alongside the busiest part of the slave market, there were countless restaurants and inns.
Areth entered one of them, and the first thing he noticed was that it was not all that different from the restaurants of the modern world. Considering that this world came from a modern web novel, that was hardly surprising.
The moment he stepped through the door, the first thing that struck him was the scent of spices. It was sharp, but not unpleasant; rather, it had an appetite-stirring intensity. The smell of grilled meat, fried dough, and heavy sauces mingled in the air.
The place was crowded, but not disorderly. There was noise, yet it was not chaotic. It was the natural murmur of a place that was alive.
With a brief glance, he surveyed the room.
The tables were full. Mostly merchants, a few mercenary groups, and several people who, at a glance, were impossible to identify and far too quiet.
In this city, everyone was either selling something or hiding something.
With slow steps, Areth chose a table near the back wall. He had always liked sitting with his back to the wall, even in the modern world.
Rosavelle stopped a few steps behind him. Ever since entering, her eyes had constantly been moving. She looked at everything, but never focused on anything for long. This was not a world she was used to.
Areth pulled out a chair.
"Sit."
Rosavelle hesitated for a moment. Even that small gesture left her briefly stunned. Then she sat down quietly. Her hands rested upon her knees, her back perfectly straight. She looked less like a slave and more like a well-bred noblewoman. In truth, she was one.
When Areth sat across from her, a waitress approached. She spoke quickly, the efficient sort.
"What would you like?"
Without even glancing at the menu, Areth answered.
"Two servings of meat. And bring whatever you recommend with it. No alcohol."
The waitress nodded and left.
Rosavelle remained silent. Her eyes were on the table, but her mind was elsewhere. Areth noticed.
"Is this your first time?" he asked directly.
Rosavelle flinched slightly and looked up.
"...Yes." There was a short pause. "I mean... like this."
Areth raised an eyebrow faintly.
"Like this?"
Rosavelle looked away.
"With a man. And... freely."
Her voice dropped so low on the last word that it was almost impossible to hear.
For several seconds, Areth simply watched her. This girl did not resemble the cold, destructive character he had seen in the novel. She was still raw. Still fragile. If he had not read the novel, no one could have convinced him that this woman would one day become a war machine capable of killing people with ease.
"You'll get used to it," he said flatly. "It isn't difficult."
Rosavelle gave a small nod. But it was not agreement. It was an attempt to calm herself. Silence settled between them for a while.
When the food arrived, Rosavelle's eyes widened slightly. The plate set before her was full. The sauce glistened across the meat, and colorful side dishes sat beside it. She had seen far more luxurious meals in the palace before. But this was different.
This had been chosen.
For her.
Areth picked up his fork and began eating without hesitation.
"Start eating," he said after swallowing his first bite. "Before it gets cold."
Rosavelle carefully picked up her fork. Before taking her first bite, she paused for a moment. Then she cut off a small piece and brought it to her mouth. For an instant, she froze. The taste was different from what she had expected. Richer. More real. A subtle change appeared in her eyes. To someone who was not paying attention, it would have meant nothing.
But Areth saw it.
Satisfaction.
For the first time.
Areth took note of it.
"Do you like it?" he asked.
Rosavelle nodded faintly.
"Yes... it's good."
The sentence was simple, but there was honesty in her tone. Areth leaned back in his chair. For a few seconds, he watched her. Then the corner of his lips curled upward ever so slightly. There was something strangely amusing about the way this woman with pink hair that looked like it was made of sugar ate such a simple meat dish with such innocent delight.
Then he realized that she still did not truly know him. And if he did not fix that, Rosavelle would never completely trust him, just as she had not in the tower.
He would never tell her the truth about himself, that he had reincarnated and come from another world, but he could at least speak about the past of the character called Areth.
The only problem was that Rosavelle was a Mindseer.
If he lied, she might notice. Though first she would need to use her powers. Fortunately, she still had not fully mastered them, and deceiving her was not difficult.
However, if Rosavelle had ever learned to use her powers properly, she would have been able to do more than just read thoughts; she would have been able to control memories and even entire minds.
There were legendary items capable of stopping that, and Areth had already become convinced that he would need to acquire one in the future. For now, however, it was unnecessary. Because Rosavelle was still an inexperienced Mindseer.
Areth set his fork down on the plate.
"Rosavelle."
The woman lifted her head. Her eyes were calm, but attentive.
"What do you know about me?"
The question was simple.
Its purpose was not.
Rosavelle thought for a few seconds, then chose to answer as honestly as she could.
"I know your name. That you come from a noble family. And... that you did not have a good relationship with them."
Areth nodded faintly, appreciating her honesty.
"Not bad. Would you like to hear my story?"
Rosavelle nodded as though she had been waiting for that question all along.
"I would!" she said at last.
He leaned back slightly and folded his fingers together atop the table. Before he began speaking, he paused briefly.
Then he recounted the past as he remembered it from the novel, up until the day of the execution.
Rosavelle listened in silence. Her eyes never left him, not even for an instant. All of her attention was fixed on him, because for the first time in her miserable life, aside from her mother, there was someone she felt close to. And that person was speaking about himself of his own free will.
As Areth spoke, his voice was neither dramatic nor emotional. It sounded as though he were describing someone else's life.
The events... the betrayals... the struggles for power... all of it spilled from his lips like pieces of data.
He neither quickened nor slowed. He neither emphasized nor avoided anything. And eventually, the story reached the part where he killed his entire family. He first described how he killed his own brother, the one who had even coveted his fiancée. Then his fiancée. Then the rival duke at the center of the entire conspiracy.
And finally, the mother who had betrayed him.
Rosavelle's eyes trembled for the first time. It was slight, but it was not hidden.
"...and my mother," he said in the same flat tone, "was the last one."
Silence fell over the table. But this silence was not like the one before. It was heavy. Dense.
Rosavelle's fingers slowly tightened atop her knees. Her breathing remained steady, but her mind did not. There was no contradiction here. Areth was neither trying to justify himself nor showing regret. He was simply telling the truth. And that... Made him more dangerous.
"...Why?" she finally asked.
There was neither judgment nor fear in her voice. Only a genuine question.
Areth turned his eyes toward her.
"Because it was necessary... Actually, the two of us are quite similar, aren't we? The only difference is that I destroyed my family's schemes by killing them."
His gaze sharpened.
"You, on the other hand... I'm sorry, but you failed. And because of that, you lost both your mother and your home, and became a slave."
The words hung in the air.
Sharp.
Merciless.
And... unnecessarily honest.
For a brief moment, Rosavelle's eyes froze. It was an attack, but not a physical one. It struck somewhere deeper. Her fingers tightened further atop her knees. Her breathing did not falter. She bit her lip so hard that it started to bleed. She turned her face towards the ground and tears filled her eyes.
Something moved within her mind.
A memory.
A scream.
A fire.
And then... Silence.
Areth watched her reaction. Would she run? Would she break?
Or-
Rosavelle slowly raised her head. This time, her gaze was different. There was no softness left. No innocence.
Only clarity.
"Yes... You're right"
Areth's eyebrows rose ever so slightly.
That was not the answer he had expected.
But Rosavelle continued.
"I failed."