Reidox sat in the marquis’s study, looking at the hastily delivered invitation with a bitter expression.

The contents of the invitation were not good.

While hurrying to inform Sikar Blake of the invitation’s contents, Reidox encountered the duke and duchess walking hand in hand affectionately.

“I’ve always heard you two hold hands wherever you go. Seeing it in person, it truly looks lovely.”

“Showing off, aren’t you?”

Yura Blake knew Reidox wasn’t teasing—it was his way of expressing that he liked seeing Sikar’s humanly changing demeanor.

She let go of Sikar’s hand and smiled gently.

“Thank you for your kind words, Marquis.”

“I should be thanking you, Duchess.”

Sikar glanced regretfully at the hand Yura had released, then glared coldly at Reidox.

“What exactly are you doing here? Do you know how many times I’ve tolerated your twins’ rudeness today?”

“I apologize. I will firmly warn them……”

“Enough. Everyone knows how little your twins listen to you. Better not make promises you can’t possibly keep.”

Though he grumbled, his expression wasn’t truly angry. Reidox noticed this and quietly chuckled to himself.

“By the way, I received an invitation—from the royal court.”

Sikar had been indifferent at the mention of an invitation, but his eyes sharply flashed when he heard it came from the royal court.

“The royal court?”

“Yes. That’s right.”

“Judging by your expression, it’s not good news.”

“They’ve invited me to watch the gladiatorial contest being held tomorrow in the royal gardens. According to the invitation, Duke and Duchess, you are also among the attending nobles.”

“So you mean, once I return to the ducal estate, an invitation will be waiting for me as well.”

“That seems likely.”

As Reidox said, it was undeniably uncomfortable news.

In the gardens of the Sun Palace, where the king resides, there was a small arena. Built during the reign of the former king, it began with dogfights and eventually escalated to pitting nobles against each other without hesitation.

“I hear they’ve been forcing prisoners to fight there lately. Will you be alright with that?”

Even as he spoke, Reidox subtly glanced at Yura. It was equivalent to asking whether the duchess would be alright witnessing such things.

Noticing Reidox’s glance, Yura looked around, then excused herself to sit on a bench, signaling them to continue their conversation.

Reidox bowed slightly toward Yura, as if expressing gratitude.

“The duchess is truly considerate.”

“Appears gentle on the outside, but extremely perceptive.”

“The duke is a fortunate man.”

Sikar nearly smiled at Reidox, then quickly hardened his expression again.

“Wasn’t it specified in the invitation what kind of spectacle it is?”

“It wasn’t written, but I’ve heard the king lately enjoys watching prisoners fight.”

“So they’ve invited me and my wife to such an event.”

“In my opinion, the duchess doesn’t seem the type to enjoy men’s brutal contests. Will she be alright?”

A prisoner’s combat spectacle meant watching them fight each other until death.

They pit prisoners against one another, and the winner is either released or granted better conditions in prison.

Thus, prisoners fight either until one dies or until they’ve exhausted every ounce of strength.

The scene was therefore horrific and cruel. Sikar knew Reidox was worried about that.

He himself couldn’t help but worry too. Yet, he couldn’t frown or cover his eyes at a gathering summoned by the king—his position was awkward in many ways.

Both men sighed simultaneously. Sikar glared at Reidox, who sighed at the same time as him.

“Don’t sigh along with me when I sigh. I don’t want to look friendly with you.”

The duke I knew wouldn’t have said “don’t sigh with me” because it looked friendly—he’d have said it because it was impolite.

By saying “I don’t want to look friendly,” Sikar was essentially admitting they did look friendly, which made Reidox quietly smile.

“Understood.”

At that moment, Sikar suddenly recalled a certain piece of information.

The so-called “Mountain Pass Potion”—an Illusion Magic Potion.

Bundle merchants often had to cross mountains at night, and when they did, they gathered in groups to traverse the same passes together.

However, among them, those easily frightened would scream at the mere sight of a small light, inadvertently revealing their location to monsters—an incident that occurred frequently.

If they consumed the Illusion Magic Potion, the night appeared less dark, and monsters seemed slightly less grotesque, reducing fear and preventing useless screams that attracted more monsters.

Thus, since it was taken to cross mountains at night, people called the Illusion Magic Potion the “Mountain Pass Potion.”

Illusion magic was originally used by mages in battle to make opponents let their guard down or to frighten them.

However, since many soldiers on the battlefield fled before even fighting due to terrifying-looking monsters, the Illusion Magic Potion was created to boost their morale and courage.

It proved quite useful in many ways.

But authentic Illusion Magic Potion wasn’t easy to obtain. The easiest method, relatively speaking, was through merchants, though potions circulating among them were mostly produced via black-market trade.

Inexperienced junior mages, eager to earn money, mass-produced and sold them illegally, resulting in potions with heavy side effects or erratic effects.

For example, monsters might appear excessively cute, swords in hand might look like ladles, or blood might sparkle like pretty stars, and so on.

Perhaps what Yura needed right now was precisely that counterfeit Illusion Magic Potion.

“I’ve got a good idea. I need to get some Mountain Pass Potion.”

“Mountain Pass Potion…?”

“Yes. Since we’ve been summoned by the king, we can’t refuse to attend. If my wife watches the combat spectacle, she might faint—so I’ll need that potion. Do you know where to get it?”

“You might obtain it through the Merchant Guild, but I’m not sure if you can acquire it right now for immediate use tomorrow. I can’t give you a definite answer on that.”

“I see.”

“Lord Pasium might easily obtain it.”

“That’s possible. But he’s the king’s man—difficult to approach. And if he finds out I’m seeking that potion, he’ll rush straight to Gillian and report it. Damn him.”

Reidox bowed his head again, and Sikar sank back into thought.

Watching them from the bench, Yura thought the two men had grown quite close.

They looked amiable, as if putting their heads together to solve a problem.

“I’ll have to visit the Merchant Guild.”

If things didn’t go smoothly, he might not make it home. With neither Durion nor Vika Lamberst at home, Sikar couldn’t leave Yura alone.

He could impose on the marquis’s estate, but he worried Yura might have nightmares.

It seemed safest to keep her by his side.

Thus, Sikar decided to entrust Kian Blake to Reidox for just today and travel with Yura—though Yura was clearly reluctant.

“I have to go with you?”

“Yes.”

Reidox felt their relationship resembled that of affectionate friends.

He’d occasionally seen the duke and duchess conversing informally from afar, but up close, it looked even more pleasant.

“Reidox.”

“Yes, Duke.”

“Could you procure a knight’s uniform?”

“A knight’s uniform… I have some clothes my late wife used to wear.”

Reidox’s wife came from a knightly family and was exceptionally skilled with both sword and bow.

Now, her twins each inherited one of those skills.

“If that’s acceptable, I’ll provide them.”

Yura thought it would be a great impropriety and tried to refuse, but Reidox welcomed it with a pleased expression.

“It’s just one among hundreds of outfits my wife owned—please don’t feel burdened. Your builds are similar; the clothes should fit perfectly.”

Finishing his sentence, Reidox winked at the maids.

“Go on. Help her change.”

The maids seized Yura’s arms from both sides, bewildered as she was, and pulled her into a room to change her clothes.

Sikar, standing with his arm linked, smiled contentedly, clearly pleased.

At that moment, Reidox extended his palm as if to clap—only to receive another glare from Sikar.

Shortly after, Yura emerged in the knight’s uniform, looking quite impressive.

With her hair tied tightly in a ponytail swaying as she walked, Yura looked like a valiant knight to anyone watching.

“It suits you very well.”

“Take good care of Kian while we’re away.”

“Understood, Duke.”

I was looking down at Sikar’s hand tightly gripping mine—his hand and my hand intertwined.

His words implied the situation was dangerous, so he needed to hold my hand firmly.

But to me, nothing could seem more peaceful.

At the Merchant Guild we visited with Sikar, they recognized him immediately and ushered us into a VIP room, treating us with utmost courtesy.

Even while receiving such lavish hospitality, Sikar kept insisting I hold his hand because it was “dangerous.”

To me, the situation didn’t seem dangerous—it felt more like his psychological compulsion to protect me.

If anything, the real danger seemed to be the Merchant Guild Master standing before us.

After rummaging through goods for a while, he returned with an apologetic expression.

“I’m so sorry, sir. It seems all remaining stock has been exhausted.”

“Then go out and get some.”

As resolute as Sikar was, the Guild Master looked flustered and helpless.

“It’s not a time when items can be procured instantly… and it’s not an easy item to find, either…”

“Go and retrieve it from whoever bought it. You can’t possibly fail to catch a walking merchant.”

“As you said, sir, since merchants walk, they’re even harder to catch…”

“Are you playing word games with me right now?”

“We’re merchants too, sir.”

“So merchants side with merchants, is that it?”

“It’s not that… Bundle merchants can’t afford expensive carriages, so they walk. Thus, they take mountain paths where they can move quickly. As you know, carriages can’t travel through mountains.”

“Then ride a horse there and back.”

“The merchants’ horses, unlike thieves’ horses, are used for daytime travel—there are no horses available for night riding, sir.”

No matter how much Sikar threatened, it seemed this wouldn’t be resolved.

I squeezed Sikar’s hand as if to say “enough,” then turned to the merchant and asked,

“Then, which mountain path did the merchants take?”