Short Story 3: Longdagger Observation Diary
Jenniferlin Pantile’s pride had been greatly wounded.
And it was all due to Shin Longdagger’s stubbornness.
Ever since he had saved her in the warehouse district that day.
Jenniferlin had tried time and time again to “invest” in Shin.
For a time, the notion that the Pantile would take an interest in an Impoverished Viscount Household, whose only asset was its history, became the talk of the academy.
However, perhaps due to Jenniferlin’s usual conduct, no one paid it any mind anymore, dismissing it as just another Pantile eccentricity, typical of the Pantiles.
Yet, Jenniferlin—the most Pantile-like Pantile, the Pantile of a century—had failed utterly in every investment attempt.
Simply put, Shin would not accept anything.
Jenniferlin wasn’t a fool.
She knew from the start that Shin wouldn’t accept anything if offered directly.
Therefore, she tried to “invest” by providing proper reasons, but for some reason, she was always refused.
Despite claiming to have no money, he seemed indifferent to both money and possessions, lacking any sort of attachment. Jenniferlin wondered if perhaps his fundamental values were different from her own (as a noble)?
Thinking he surely couldn’t refuse this, Jenniferlin invited Shin to a meal in the presence of many classmates, ostensibly as thanks for the other day.
Shin turned her down, saying, “There’s no greater thanks than what I already received from you, so I don’t need it.”
This led to significant misunderstandings among her classmates, and the embarrassing experience resulted in a conclusion.
She couldn’t let it go to waste.
Furious that Shin Longdagger placed such an exorbitant value on her mere Words of Gratitude, Jenniferlin decided to observe him.
Having decided to observe, Jenniferlin acted swiftly.
She employed her subordinates to investigate Shin, and by extension, the Longdagger Family.
The results were rather surprising to Jenniferlin.
“I must say, I never imagined you were from a landed noble family.”
Jenniferlin said this in the academy refectory.
At her words, Shin Longdagger looked up from his plate, staring intently at her.
“If my investigation displeased you, I apologize. I swear there was no ill intent; I’d be pleased if you’d consider it merely the Pantile nature.”
Putting down his fork and knife with gestures that suggested he only intended to observe the bare minimum of manners required to avoid offense, Shin gave a slight shake of his head.
“No, I was just surprised to learn for the first time that my own family was landed nobility.”
“Oh, hold on. Nullifying my apology right off the bat like that is bad manners, you know.”
As Shin muttered, “What kind of manners are those?”, Jenniferlin found herself genuinely astonished.
Normally, a noble could not remain indifferent to their own family.
It wasn’t just because it was ‘their family’; understanding one’s house status was crucial for navigating noble society. It determined one’s standing, what one could and couldn’t do, what was permissible and what wasn’t—it affected everything.
In essence, it was a vital aspect that could even dictate how one lived their life.
Moreover, for a unique viscount house like the Longdagger Family, it should have been an even more critical issue.
“I was just feeling ashamed for not knowing that a viscount house—or any noble house, for that matter—with its own territory in the Royal Capital even existed. But seeing a member of that very house like this makes my shame feel wasted.”
Shin tilted his head slightly at Jenniferlin’s murmur.
His lack of interest in his own family was refreshingly complete.
Landed nobility referred to nobles granted land by the King to govern, typically Counts or higher.
Viscounts and Barons were usually just subletting a few villages or towns from those higher-ranking landed nobles.
Of course, there were exceptions, the Pantile House being one.
Even so, it wasn’t as peculiar as a viscount house possessing its own territory within the Royal Capital.
Even if the land granted by the King was only the size of a single mansion, its privileged position could only be described as abnormal.
If the Longdagger Family ever decided to act.
There was no law preventing the Longdagger Family from bringing fully armed private soldiers into the Royal Capital.
If the Royal Family tried to prevent it, they would have to confiscate the Longdagger Family’s land, but doing so could provoke unpredictable reactions from other noble houses.
They certainly wouldn’t take it well.
If the Faltar Kingdom attached peerage titles to land like other countries, the problem could easily be solved by granting the Longdagger Family a count’s territory or something similar.
But in the Faltar Kingdom, titles were attached to the family itself.
Ennobling the Longdagger Family to Count would merely create one more peculiar Count family possessing only a mansion’s worth of land.
Jenniferlin surmised that there must have been special circumstances surrounding the Longdagger Family.
Tracing back their history, the Longdagger Family was an old, distinguished house dating back to the kingdom’s founding.
Among such ancient noble houses still in existence, examples where the main family line, not a branch family, survived could be counted on one hand.
A famous example would be the Solntsalri House.
They were a proper, historically significant, major noble house—the antithesis of the Longdagger Family, whom she hadn’t known about despite their history until she investigated.
Come to think of it, the eldest daughter of that house was in her class, Jenniferlin recalled.
The Maiden of Light, Solntsalri, Longdagger… my class is quite rich in peculiar individuals, Jenniferlin thought, forgetting that she herself hailed from the unique Pantile House.
Or perhaps, it was more accurate to say her own uniqueness paled in comparison to the others.
However, for the Longdagger Family, this uniqueness was nothing but a source of hardship.
Jenniferlin thought this as she looked at the plates laid out before Shin.
She hadn’t intended to stare, but Jenniferlin nearly sighed as Shin skillfully followed her gaze to the plate that had held his salad and tilted his head quizzically.
The Longdagger Family was poor.
Shockingly poor, in fact.
Their poverty was such that the family’s continued existence seemed miraculous.
After all, there was likely no noble other than a Longdagger who would eat even the small tomato garnish served with a salad—a garnish meant solely for nobles to demonstrate their status by leaving food uneaten, showing they had already had their fill.
At least, Jenniferlin knew of no others.
She hadn’t known until her subordinate informed her that the dead-letter footnote in etiquette—stating it wasn’t a breach of manners as long as the stem was left—existed solely for the benefit of the Longdagger Family.
“Today’s salad was delicious, you know?”
The second son of the Impoverished Viscount Household, so poor as to warrant special mention in table manners footnotes, offered a comment completely off the mark.
“Is that so? I shall look forward to it later.”
To Jenniferlin’s reply, Shin flew even further off course, wondering aloud, “No, wait, all the food here at the academy is delicious, so singling out just the salad might be rude to the person who made it, wouldn’t it?”
“So, what did you want, investigating something like my family? It only has history, so I doubt you found anything useful by looking into it.”
Having apparently settled the issue regarding the cooks in his mind, Shin took a sip of water and asked bluntly.
Although Jenniferlin, having openly admitted to investigating him, was hardly one to talk, she found this aspect of him also un-noble-like. She didn’t dislike it.
“It’s because you won’t accept my thanks. I thought I’d try attacking from the flank, you see.”
It was only natural that the Longdagger Family was poor enough for Shin to refer to his own house as “something like that.”
After all, despite being landed nobility, they received absolutely no income from that land.
“This again?”
Though clearly exasperated, Shin didn’t seem inclined to reject her desire to express gratitude itself, which Jenniferlin found favorable.
He simply, truly, didn’t want anything more.
His true sentiment wasn’t that Words of Gratitude alone were sufficient, but that Words of Gratitude were what was good.
It was a set of values that could get one fleeced down to their last hair, whether as a merchant or a noble, but Jenniferlin’s Golden Eyes perceived it as a gem.
“So, did investigating my shockingly poor family reveal any angle of attack?”
Jenniferlin honestly shook her head at Shin’s question.
Because truly, she hadn’t found any.
Her idea of approaching the family if the individual proved difficult had failed; the Longdagger Family was rock solid.
Surprisingly, setting aside their financial situation, the Longdagger Family was an exceedingly sound noble house.
Shin’s older brother worked as a civil servant in the castle, and his father, the current head of the family, held a respectable position in the kingdom’s Ministry of Justice.
Furthermore, with a younger brother as well, succession issues seemed unlikely, and the older brother already had a fiancée.
For an Impoverished Viscount Household, they were almost too stable.
“Healthy parents, a capable older brother, and a bright younger brother. Truly a fine family. It seems much more comfortable than my own house, where sibling conflicts are rather common.”
“Fighting with your older siblings isn’t good, you know. My younger brother, for instance, is incredibly adorable.”
The very fact that he could equate the struggles within noble houses to mere sibling squabbles was, in itself, un-noble-like.
In other words, from the perspective of the family’s survival, the Longdagger Family felt no sense of crisis whatsoever.
Why? The answer came easily after a little thought.
It was because other noble families were helping the Longdagger Family.
And not just one or two; a quick investigation revealed that many noble families, including those known as great nobles, were supporting the Longdagger Family from the shadows.
Their lack of overt support was merely a modest consideration towards the Royal Family.
To the middle and lower nobility, the Longdagger Family held no value, but for the great nobles, it was different.
Just by the Longdagger Family continuing to exist, it was the same as having a Dagger pressed against the Royal Family’s throat.
Though it was a thin Dagger, almost like a form of harassment, depending on how it was used, it could be fatal.
I see, Jenniferlin thought. They would certainly go so far as to ensure the family survives.
“Just like a long dagger,” Jenniferlin murmured softly, then pondered how exactly to “invest” in this guy.
Doing so through her family was impossible.
Trying to directly support or aid the Longdagger Family would not only stir up unnecessary trouble, but if mishandled, could, in the worst case, genuinely lead to civil war. That wasn’t a joke.
Even Jenniferlin found the thought of causing a civil war in the country because of her gratitude would make it hard to sleep at night.
Jenniferlin watched Shin, who was right in front of her, talking about how cute his younger brother was, and wrestled with the problem.
＊
The next day, Jenniferlin was angry.
It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say she was furious.
It was because of the report she received from her subordinate.
That Shin Longdagger was an adventurer.
Finding Shin in the classroom, displaying an appalling lack of motivation in magic class for all to see, Jenniferlin walked straight up to him and silently grabbed him by the collar.
She ignored the stares from everyone in the classroom wondering what was happening.
Don’t mess with me, she thought.
Seriously, stop screwing around, she thought again.
Jenniferlin ignored the bewildered Shin and dragged him out of the classroom.
She knew that if Shin got even slightly serious, someone like her would find it difficult to even move him, but she didn’t care. In fact, she was also angry at Shin for likely not getting serious.
The sight of Jenniferlin Pantile, the relatively famous daughter of the Pantile house, angrily grabbing Shin’s collar and walking down the hallway was enough to start rumors on its own.
But when people realized it was Shin being dragged, most of them made faces that said, Ah, so that unserious Longdagger did something again.
That too was infuriating, but right now, her anger was directed solely at Shin.
Dragging Shin into a suitably empty classroom, Jenniferlin put all her anger into her first words.
“Are you an idiot?”
That was a lie; she was so angry she couldn’t speak properly.
“It’s nothing to brag about, but my grades at the academy haven’t budged from the bottom since I enrolled.”
Jenniferlin silently pinched both of Shin’s cheeks and pulled.
Of all the things to say, she thought.
“Ah—wait, wait, stop pulling someone’s cheeks without saying anything. It’s scary, okay?”
“You,” Jenniferlin stopped pulling his cheeks.
“Shin, I heard you’re working as an adventurer.”
A look of understanding dawned in Shin’s eyes at Jenniferlin’s words.
That’s right, understand this anger of mine.
“Ah—um? Yeah, that’s right. Being a noble who becomes an adventurer is something proper nobles would criticize, I underst—OW OW OW OW! Wait! Jen, stop stabbing my Flank with that stick! And what is that stick anyway, where did you pull it from!”
“To think you’d assume I’d get angry over something like that now is quite an insult, Shin.”
He doesn’t understand at all, Jenniferlin thought, grinding the Magic Tool she used to summon her guards into his side.
“My bad, really, my bad. So stop grinding it so precisely against the bone.”
“I highly doubt you truly understand, but fine.”
Jenniferlin put away the rod-shaped Magic Tool.
“So Jen’s the type who gets angry with a blank expression. I misjudged. I totally thought you were the type to unleash an endless torrent of insults.”
Shin said, rubbing his Flank.
“I’m surprised myself. I never thought I’d be rendered speechless. Even when my father mistakenly threw away my favorite doll, I managed to berate him for two solid hours.”
He berated his old man for two hours straight? Shin shuddered under his breath.
“Should I feel honored that the fact I’m an adventurer angers you so much?”
“You really don’t get it, though I wasn’t expecting much.”
A sigh almost escaped her as she looked at Shin, who was protectively covering his Flank at her words.
“I am angry at the sheer audacity of an adventurer losing their weapon and then refusing compensation for it!”
Saying those words carried a slight sense of fear.
Jenniferlin felt strongly that Shin had lost his weapon protecting her, and therefore, the obligation to compensate him fell upon her.
Thus, for her, it was anger mixed with fear.
It was fine that she hadn’t been told he was an adventurer despite being a noble, since they hadn’t known each other long.
But what did he mean by not seeking compensation for the Sword? For an adventurer, a weapon was quite literally their lifeline, something they entrusted their lives to.
For him not to demand compensation from her—for him to say “Your Words of Gratitude are enough”—could it be that those words stemmed from him estimating my worth cheaply?
That question was terrifying for Jenniferlin, and for Jenniferlin Pantile.
The appraisal results, which made one doubt if he was even human, flickered before her eyes. From that perspective, wasn’t most of this world boring? Had I been tossed into the boring category? Did Shin find no value in anything in this world? Did “Words of Gratitude are enough” simply mean…?
No, that’s wrong. Jenniferlin mentally shook her head at herself for cleverly spinning reasons.
No matter how she twisted the logic, it was all just excuses.
In the end, she simply didn’t want to deny the part of her that had taken a liking to Shin, the one who said Words of Gratitude were enough.
Now that the blindness of her Appraisal Skill had cleared, her very first valuation made solely with her own eyes was precisely those words from Shin.
That’s why she was angry.
“Ah… wow, I really am still just a child.”
Jenniferlin couldn’t help but murmur as she looked at Shin’s face, who still didn’t understand why she was angry.
She was angry simply because she didn’t want her valuation, made without relying on her Appraisal Skill, to be something dark.
She hated it because it felt like the value of Shin Longdagger, whom she had come to like with her own eyes, had diminished.
Even though, looking purely through the Appraisal Skill, his value was immutable. How selfish could she be?
The more Jenniferlin understood the reason for her anger, the more embarrassed she became.
“Ah—so, does that mean you’re not angry anymore?”
Shin caught Jenniferlin’s murmur and tilted his head as he asked.
“No, I’m still angry. That aside, I’m angry about this.”
“What is ‘that’ and which one is ‘this’?”
Shin looked utterly lost at Jenniferlin’s words.
“Shin, your Sword broke because you were protecting me. For you not to accept my desire to compensate you for it is something that should rightly anger someone who received your help. Especially since it’s an adventurer’s lifeline, their weapon!”
Jenniferlin said, thinking it was a strange way to phrase it.
While finding the un-noble-like directness strangely satisfying, she waited for Shin’s answer, the results of that appraisal flickering in her eyes again.
“Even if you say that…”
Shin looked troubled.
“I’m an adventurer, that was my Sword, and it broke because of my lack of skill, which means, including that result, it was all my action, so…”
Watching Shin struggle desperately to put his thoughts into words, the tension unknowingly left her braced body.
“Are you just really bad at putting things into words?”
Words of exasperation escaped her lips unintentionally.
“I’m aware.”
An involuntary smile touched her lips at Shin’s earnest reply.
“Ah—well, basically, Jen? That Sword breaking was my fault, which means I don’t want to hand over that ‘my fault’ to anyone else. So, while it’s fine for you to be angry at me, Jen, as far as I’m concerned, the Sword breaking is mine, which is why, really, regarding that matter, your Words of Gratitude were the best thing, and there’s nothing better than that.”
She felt dizzy at his incomprehensible words.
Was this a normal way of thinking for an adventurer?
No, that couldn’t be right. The adventurers she had met for work, and the ones she had employed, didn’t think like this.
Or was it because of those appraisal results? Jenniferlin wondered.
Was Shin Longdagger being Shin Longdagger in a completely different way than she had imagined?
“Shin.”
“What is it? Jen.”
“You are a rare sort of greedy person.”
Jenniferlin smiled as she watched Shin tilt his head greatly at her words.
Well, this man probably wouldn’t understand.
The results of his actions are entirely his own, he refuses to share them with others whatsoever, and because of that, he finds the greatest value precisely in the words of others.
With those appraisal results, it made sense he’d turn out like this.
Whether he himself was aware of it or not, for Shin Longdagger, there were few people indeed with whom he could share the consequences of his actions.
Such arrogance.
He monopolized the results of his actions, yet demanded words from others, claiming to find the utmost value in them.
Such greed.
Even his lack of obsession with money, despite his financial struggles, stemmed from the same root of arrogance and greed.
Jenniferlin thought that if she hadn’t known the results of his Appraisal Skill, she would have surely thought Shin was just some eccentric with delusions of grandeur.
And, whether he realized it or not, this man saw no value in himself; worse still, there were indications he genuinely believed himself to be ordinary.
Just what kind of education did the Longdagger Family impart?
Oh well.
She was used to business partners being arrogant and greedy.
In fact, if that’s how it was, then this was her (Pantile’s) kind of battlefield.
Jenniferlin smiled.
“That smile… Does that mean you’re not angry?”
Jenniferlin felt a great sense of satisfaction hearing the slight fear in that voice of Shin’s.
“Asking a woman who was angry if she’s not angry anymore? Probably not the best idea, Shin.”
“Alright, alright, just stop with the scary smile.”
Deciding it was time to change her approach, Jenniferlin laughed.
Satisfied that, in the end, Shin was nothing more and nothing less than Shin Longdagger.
＊
Two weeks later, Jenniferlin was exasperated.
This happened in a classroom after all the classes had ended and the students had left.
While feeling a slight thrill at the fact that that Shin was bowing his head and pleading with her, she was still exasperated.
“What was it you said again? Ah, no, you don’t need to answer, Shin. I remember. I remember every single word. But if I were to dare summarize it, it would be this:”
She met Shin’s eyes as he looked up, wondering what she was going to say.
“‘The results of my actions are all mine,’ wasn’t that it?”
Shin writhed, letting out a silent scream.
“No, no, it’s fine, Shin, really it is. My friend, Shin! No, no, you don’t need to worry about it at all. Feel free, yes, feel absolutely free to rely on me.”
Seeing Shin take no small amount of damage from her words, she couldn’t help but feel elated.
“So, what is it you need me to teach you?”
Jenniferlin tilted her head as she asked this of Shin, who had asked for help because his next exams looked bad.
While feeling a strong sense of satisfaction that he had asked her as a friend, not as payment.
“It would be… all subjects.”
Hearing Shin’s strained voice, Jenniferlin thought it might be faster to just buy the academy with her money than to teach him, but she nodded magnanimously.
She couldn’t do something so wasteful.
“Leave it to me, my friend! I promise I won’t let you fail a single subject.”
Jenniferlin was exasperated, utterly exasperated.
Exasperated with herself for getting so elated just because her friend relied on her.
“I won’t let you regret relying on me, Jenniferlin Pantile!”
Jenniferlin declared this, feeling extremely pleased with herself.