The Bard’s Flaws and a City Lord’s Secrets

“I’ve read this book,” Iordera remarked, “and what’s more, I know this Poli personally.”

The sight of the pearl-adbedecked, corpulent man shattered her romanticized image of a graceful lady bard.

“The identity of the author is irrelevant,” Yuna declared, “for upon a closer reading today, I’ve uncovered numerous flaws within its pages.”

Intrigued, Iordera leaned forward. “What precisely are these issues?”

“The prose in this book is rather competent, quite noteworthy, particularly in its depictions of combat and its ability to evoke mood and atmosphere,” Yuna observed, her gaze sweeping to the final page. “‘Like stars scattered across the sky’—that concluding line truly serves as a masterful flourish, a perfect capstone to the entire work.”

Hearing this, Iordera surmised that Yuna was merely setting the stage for criticism, employing the classic tactic of praising before denouncing. “And the flaws, then?” she prompted.

“The primary deficiency lies in its utter lack of genuine emotional depth,” Yuna explained, gesturing emphatically at the book. “The atmosphere and emotions are conjured purely through descriptive words, a rather unsophisticated technique that utterly lacks any distinctive flair.”

Her voice growing more animated, she continued, “Apparently, this bard, with such meager talent, has managed to thrive effortlessly in Junbao, even securing an exclusive interview at the City Lord’s manor and achieving both fame and fortune.”

Iordera tilted her head, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “And your conclusion is?”

“My conclusion is simple: I could do it too,” Yuna declared with unwavering confidence. “Anyone with a modicum of skill could achieve the same.”

Iordera rolled her eyes. “Very well, then. Tomorrow, I’ll have your sister fetch you paper and a pen, and you may begin writing.”

A moment later, however, a flicker of unease crossed her features, and she amended her statement. “On second thought, take my pen and notebook instead. Nina shouldn’t venture out onto the streets.”

Nina, visibly moved, lifted her gaze. “Has the young miss finally decided to grant me a holiday?”

“What are you imagining?” Iordera retorted. “It’s simply that it’s rather unsafe outside these past few days, and it’s best not to venture out. We still have some provisions stored away, don’t we? If they prove insufficient, go and borrow some from the landlord.”

With fewer and fewer shops still open for business outside, Nina would inevitably have to travel a considerable distance to purchase supplies, thus exposing herself to unnecessary danger.

“Understood,” Nina affirmed with a nod. “No problem at all.”

Indeed, she was more than content to remain indoors.

After dinner, with the two maids having retired for the night, Iordera also retreated to her room. However, instead of immediately lying down to sleep, she paused in thought, then retrieved her diary and a pencil from beneath her desk.

‘If I’m only going to wake up with insomnia in the middle of the night and have to get up to write anyway,’ she mused, ‘I might as well finish it now before I even try to sleep.’

[This will be my final diary entry in Junbao, not due to some grand reason, but merely because my paper and pen are destined for another’s use.]

[The truth behind Junbao has largely come to light. The City Lord orchestrated this entire charade himself, most likely driven by greed. The sole piece of good news is that the affair has entered its concluding phase; the City Lord has commissioned a superficial project for public consumption, and Andrew and his associates are the ones tasked with its execution.]

[I yearn to intervene, yet doing so would undoubtedly jeopardize Andrew and his companions.]

Having penned these reflections, Iordera sighed, then picked up an eraser and began to meticulously rub them away. She had previously inscribed three diary entries within its pages, but all had been thoroughly expunged. Henceforth, this diminutive notebook would serve as Yuna’s instrument for chasing her aspirations.

Yet, as she closed the notebook, a lingering sense of disquiet settled in her heart.

‘Strictly speaking, the concluding plan is merely my conjecture,’ Iordera reasoned to herself. ‘It still requires further verification.’

She needed to ascertain the true nature of the City Lord’s impending scheme and confirm whether Andrew and his group could extricate themselves without harm.

But how could she possibly uncover such information?

Iordera closed her diary. As she placed her belongings back into the desk, her gaze fell upon a book nestled within the drawer—*The Chronicle of the Sword-Picker*.

‘I recall hearing that this bard, with such limited talent, managed to thrive effortlessly, even securing an exclusive interview at the City Lord’s manor and achieving both fame and fortune.’

****

As a new day dawned, the deadline set by the City Lord loomed ever closer. Once again, the streets saw a dwindling number of pedestrians, and along the entire commercial thoroughfare, merely a handful of establishments remained open for business.

Those fortunate enough to be free from the necessity of work had, by then, long since settled into a routine of sequestering themselves indoors.

Poli was one such individual. As Junbao’s most renowned local bard, he was, naturally, exempt from the demands of labor. Regardless of the escalating chaos outside, it held no bearing on his tranquil existence.

‘Today truly is a splendid day,’ he thought, ‘perfect for sitting in the rooftop chamber and idly composing a few lines.’

Poli ambled leisurely to the chamber door, opened it, and instantly froze.

There, nestled comfortably within the room, sat an adorable, white-haired loli.

“You… how did you get in here?!”

“Is there truly a need to pose such a question?” Iordera replied, her exquisite features devoid of any discernible emotion. “There is no place within Junbao that can bar my entry.”

‘In truth, I scaled the pipes on the exterior wall, a truly arduous feat that left my trousers covered in dust, which took ages to brush off.’

‘But no matter, to properly intimidate him, I must project an air of utter audacity!’

Poli had just begun to formulate a cry for help when, scrutinizing the beautiful loli more closely, he realized her face seemed vaguely familiar.

“You are… the one who accompanies Sir Olcott?”

“Indeed,” Iordera confirmed, seizing the opportunity to embellish her role. “I handle matters on his behalf, assisting him with certain… unsavory tasks.”

‘Cleaning the cells, disposing of refuse—that certainly qualifies as unsavory work, doesn’t it?’

Poli’s interpretation, however, diverged entirely. ‘Ah, so that’s the truth of it,’ he mused. ‘Sir Olcott has been in Junbao for a considerable time, encountering all manner of individuals. Occasionally, he might be slighted, or come across those he finds distasteful.’

‘Yet, bound by his knightly vows and virtues, Sir Olcott must always maintain an amiable demeanor. Thus, at such times, he requires an individual to discreetly dispose of those ‘human refuse’ he cannot openly confront.’

‘I see now. This exquisite young woman is merely a charming, albeit ruthless, proxy.’

Instantly, Poli’s composure fractured. “Little Miss,” he stammered, “pray tell, in what manner have I offended Sir Olcott? I assure you, I shall offer my sincerest apologies in person.”

Iordera secretly exhaled, a faint sense of relief washing over her. Her audacious pretense had succeeded; the man was clearly cowed by her display of arrogance.

“There’s no need for alarm,” the white-haired loli said, a faint smile gracing her lips. “I haven’t come to cause you any trouble; I merely seek to understand certain matters.”

“Of course, no problem,” Poli quickly responded, closing the door and pulling up a chair to sit. “Little Miss, you have but to ask, and I shall tell you everything I know, without reservation!”

Given his eagerness to cooperate, Iordera spoke plainly. “Regarding City Lord Martin Sword-Picker, what precisely do you know?”

“Ah, Martin Sword-Picker,” Poli exclaimed, a theatrical sigh escaping him. “That man is truly despicable! Little Miss, Sir Olcott, you must act decisively and eliminate that wretched scoundrel!”

A surge of delight coursed through Iordera. “So, you are privy to his misdeeds?”

“Eh?”

Poli stared blankly for a long moment, then stammered, “He… he didn’t offend you, did he? Or did he?”

‘Damn it, I celebrated too soon,’ she chastised herself. ‘This fellow is merely eager to declare his allegiance and curry favor, not actually possessing any substantive intelligence.’

“I am still investigating his actions,” Iordera stated, her questions growing more precise. “What exactly is this plan he announced for the coming days? You conducted an exclusive interview at the City Lord’s manor; surely, you must have some insight?”

“Alas, Little Miss, you truly overestimate my capabilities,” Poli lamented, his face a mask of distress. “I am but a humble bard; how could I possibly comprehend such intricate matters? The only things I gleaned from the interview were the pre-prepared official pronouncements.”

He hesitated for a moment, then added, “Regarding that plan, all I know is that it involves alchemical artifacts.”