[FDJ]Chapter 38: Unexpected Guest

The struggling lizard legs completely dissolved, and the potion turned an unpleasant shade of pink, rapidly changing to a reddish-purple color.

Lancer, who had been preparing the magical potion for the Master, stopped her work and glanced alertly at the door. Although the wooden door was tightly shut, puppet familiars were patrolling and guarding outside. Lancer signaled to the puppet magus standing to the side, a master puppeteer named Seld, who hailed from Metz. He appeared to be a puppet himself, with his true form cunningly hidden somewhere.

In addition to the puppet familiars lingering outside the wooden house, there were numerous guards stationed about ten meters away. Aetius, the magus who had sincerely joined their faction, spared no effort in hospitality, even neglecting to assign essential surveillance familiars.

Lancer struck the wooden latch and opened a narrow slit about three fingers wide. She peered outside but didn't see anyone. The familiars outside continued their programmed patrol, showing no signs of anything amiss.

"Who's there?" one of the puppet familiars approached the tree's shadow and asked a simple inquiry. Lancer focused her gaze on the tree directly facing the wooden door and slowly opened it.

"Come out. We are both Servants, belonging to the same faction. There's no need to hide," she said.

Moonlight elongated Lancer's shadow, and her silver hair glowed bone-white under its radiance, so pure that one would suspect a moment later crimson would spill out, tainting her beautiful countenance. Her slender eyelashes couldn't conceal her even more captivating pink irises. She resembled a manipulated piece of art more than the puppets wandering outside. Her beauty could be considered a weapon that threatened men.

Saber Gilles de Rais emerged from the shadow of the tree. He wasn't in his spiritual form, and while ordinary concealment might deceive the mechanical puppets, it wouldn't fool Lancer. Unlike Lancer, who was dressed in plain clothes, Gilles de Rais had been wearing armor all day, even within the secure camp of the allied forces.

"The Saber of Orleans? What brings you here?" Lancer stood at the doorway, showing no intention of letting him inside. She didn't harbor hostility towards her nominal ally, but it didn't mean she wasn't wary of him.

"Milady, I apologize for disturbing you late at night. Although I am summoned as a Saber-class Servant, I am quite knowledgeable about occultism, especially regarding alchemy and potions," Gilles de Rais explained his reason for being there, having caught the scent of the potion.

"Potions? Sir, are you not only a swordsman but also an alchemist?" Lancer carefully observed Gilles de Rais. She didn't know his true name and the nominal alliance made it convenient for both of them to hide their identities. No one voluntarily revealed their true name.

Gilles de Rais nodded in acknowledgment. "It's not a particularly glorious memory. Could you allow me to meet your Master, Master Seld?"

"You have interrupted the tranquility I sought while preparing the potion for my Master. If you have something important to tell me, that would suffice," Lancer told Gilles de Rais clearly, indicating that it would be more appropriate for him to leave immediately.

As she spoke, her smile remained unchanged, surpassing even the noblest princess Gilles de Rais had ever seen. If Lancer wasn't deliberately doing so, she must have received a strict aristocratic education.

There weren't many historical candidates for the Lancer class who matched all the criteria: noblewoman, proficient in wielding a massive spear, and knowledgeable in uncommon branches of magecraft. Drawing on his habits, Gilles de Rais analyzed the elegant and refined female Servant before him. If it were a painting, he could quickly name the title, artist, and relevant allusions. Unfortunately, his expertise in art appreciation was of no use when it came to people.

"Please forgive my presumption. I am a Servant from the 15th century, and the land we tread beneath our feet was once the domain of the monarch I served in my lifetime. I have responded to the summons of this land to come and protect the inhabitants who once lived here. Orleans is now safe, and I would like to know how Metz, which is near Orleans, is faring. Does it require assistance from Orleans for reconstruction?"

Gilles de Rais's question surprised Lancer. She couldn't comprehend the honorable swordsman before her, who seemed to be overflowing with a sense of duty. Metz had long been trampled by the Huns. The only things remaining there were skeletons and a few villagers who had sought refuge in the mountains. Anyone who could run away had already fled to other cities. Was he coming in the middle of the night for the sake of possibly saving a few villagers who weren't even worthy of being experimental subjects?

"Are you joking, Sir Saber? Shouldn't you discuss such matters with Commander Aetius? Wouldn't that be more effective?"

Lancer wasn't angry. She found Gilles de Rais perplexing, as he seemed more concerned about trivial matters unrelated to the upcoming battle.

Metz has no magus, which information Gilles de Rais had come across while perusing the original Lord of Orleans' notes. The former lord had planned to levy additional taxes on Metz and dispatched mercenaries to investigate, confirming the absence of any threatening forces in the area.

"I think it would be better to meet with your Master. Commander Aetius doesn't have an understanding of Orleans or Metz."

With these words, Lancer sensed Gilles de Rais's intentions, which surprised her greatly.

"This won't do! My Master just said..."

"Let him in." Master Seld consented to Gilles de Rais's request through the voice-emitting mechanism within the mechanical body. Lancer had no choice but to step back several paces and allow Gilles de Rais from outside into the room.

Before even entering the room, Gilles de Rais caught a whiff of the pungent scent of potions. With a glance, he could tell that there were at least twenty different types of poisonous potions on the table, each with varying degrees of potency. The smell of a few of the concoctions was even familiar to him, as he had prepared them himself to be sprinkled on the bodies of children acting as sacrifices, providing a great "spectacle."

Lancer stood near the wooden door, remaining vigilant of Saber Gilles de Rais. If Gilles de Rais were to launch a sudden attack, it would be difficult for the puppet body of Master Seld to evade the first strike.

"Why have you sought me out?"

"I was just curious about which magus practicing black magic might be nearby, so I came to take a look. Although I am a Saber-class Servant, I have some knowledge of black magic."

In addition to various bottles of potions, there were sheepskin scrolls with data and a rat waiting to be dissected on the table. The flickering candlelight made it inconvenient for recording.

"The black magic as you understand it is precisely the new field of study I am researching. Does the scent of potions make you uncomfortable? I will make sure to control it." The puppet spoke fluently, exhibiting minimal differences from a real person, but it further indicated that the magus was hiding somewhere nearby.

In just a few seconds, Gilles de Rais assessed the speaking puppet. From his gaze, he could be a hundred percent certain that this puppet was essentially no different from the low-grade individuals patrolling outside. The craftsmanship of the puppet was also average, capable of deceiving only magus who were unfamiliar with such matters. The use of the puppet was merely a disguise, while the main focus on black magic seemed to be the truth.

"May I ask about the situation in Metz when you left?" Gilles de Rais glanced at Lancer, the female servant standing guard behind him, and inquired Master Seld.

"I left Metz just before the Huns arrived. It has been some time, and I am not certain. However, according to accounts from the successful evacuees, Metz was completely plundered by the Huns. It should be in ruins," the puppet head of Master Seld replied. Without the ability to display expressions, it was impossible to gauge if there was any emotional attachment to Metz. If there were a magus native to Metz, they would likely be quite disheartened.

"That's unfortunate. After the reconstruction of Orleans, I had originally planned to personally lead a group to assist Metz. The arrival of the Huns is more deadly than the consecutive harsh winters. It pains me to see the villagers fighting over food in the city," Gilles de Rais expressed concern for the survival of the people in the city of Orleans, but not to such an exaggerated extent. In his eyes, it was normal for a few people to die from illness or hunger, as long as every effort was made to save them and not betray the honor of a knight and his family.

During his lifetime, he had witnessed countless suffering people affected by war, and their pitiful appearances as they crawled for survival. After seeing so much, he was no longer moved.

"By the way, do you know Lord Telerus? Since his unfortunate death in battle, the nobles of Orleans have been restless. If I had his leadership abilities, perhaps I could save even more of the unfortunate populace in the city," Gilles de Rais brought up, shifting the topic.

"You are too modest. It is thanks to your efforts that Orleans City was able to withstand the final Hun assault. You have also been overseeing the subsequent reconstruction. Commander Aetius has mentioned you on multiple occasions. It's a pity you missed the opportunity to participate in this Holy Grail War, but fortunately, you caught up," Master Seld praised.

Gilles de Rais intentionally didn't engage in the topic shift. "It seems that Lord Telerus had hidden a considerable amount of wealth. If we could find this ill-gotten fortune, the reconstruction of Orleans City would be somewhat easier. Unfortunately, I am not skilled in divination."

"Commander Aetius might be able to help. After defeating the Huns, you can seek his assistance," suggested Lancer, taking a few steps forward to stand beside her Master.

"Once the Huns are defeated, if there is still an opportunity, please help in the search for Orleans City. The entire city's population will genuinely appreciate your efforts," Gilles de Rais stated. He could ascertain that the so-called "Master Seld, the puppet magus from Metz" was a fake or, more accurately, a false identity. The Lord of Orleans was not named Telerus, and most of the money collected from various taxes was used to procure armaments. The nobles in the city had houses that were larger and more imposing than the Lord's residence.

Following his lead and attempting to divert the topic he was not proficient in, Gilles de Rais saw no need to stay any longer in this room filled with the scent of potions. He needed to find Commander Aetius and remind him to be cautious.

"It's getting late. I apologize for interrupting your experiment," Gilles de Rais said as he picked up a bottle of potion and a silver-white powder from the table, adding them together. "Adding a stabilizer will make it safer," he commented, pointing to the only living rat on the table. "It should survive for an hour. I've conducted this experiment before, maintaining the toxicity and paralyzing properties. The test subject experiences hallucinations within five minutes of exposure."

"Wait, are you saying you didn't use rats for your experiment?"

"When studying black magic, one tends to employ unethical methods," Gilles de Rais replied with a dangerous smile, his deep eye sockets exuding an aura of wickedness. "I would recommend using children as test subjects. You can obtain data that cannot be obtained from animals."

As Gilles de Rais walked away, Lancer, closed the wooden door. She picked up the manipulated bottle of potion, confirmed its color, and poured it into a distillation vessel. "What's next, dear Master?" she asked.

The puppet remained silent but pointed at the empty bottle and the rat. Lancer understood his gesture and began preparing the next concoction as if she had received a telepathic message.

Outside the room, the puppet familiar continued its programmed patrol, carrying on until the night came to an end.

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