Chapter 27: An Unlikely Messenger

The man with glasses didn't answer immediately. He simply stared at Zeldryn for several moments before the corners of his lips slowly rose into a smile.

There was something strange about that expression. It didn't look friendly, but Zeldryn couldn't quite call it mocking either. The man's intentions were difficult to read.

After a moment, he bowed slightly and placed his empty right hand over his chest while continuing to hold a long staff in the other.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Young Lord Zeldryn,” the man said calmly. “My name is Kera. I am a Level 3 Manholer, as well as a Healing Manholer from the Giorry family's main residence.”

Zeldryn, who had been staring at him in confusion, immediately fell silent.

A Level 3 Manholer and a healer.

Those two pieces of information instantly changed where his attention went.

Zeldryn still didn't understand the entire mana system in depth, but thanks to Life Really Is Happy, Right?, he at least had a rough idea of how powerful a Level 3 Manholer was. Of course, Level 3 didn't sound particularly impressive compared to the monsters who appeared later in the novel. The protagonist eventually reached far greater heights, and there were Level 5 Manholers and people who surpassed even them. Zorin Giorry himself was known to have reached Level 5.

That didn't make Level 3 weak.

Zeldryn still remembered one section of the novel from when the protagonist had first reached that level. During a war, he had been able to face hundreds of ordinary fighters who couldn't use mana entirely by himself. Those enemies weren't helpless civilians either. They were trained fighters who knew how to kill, yet the difference in physical ability between them and a Level 3 Manholer had already become overwhelming.

Compared to the absurdly powerful people who appeared in the later parts of the novel, Level 3 might have looked ordinary. In the real world, however, someone at that level was still genuinely powerful and would likely be respected almost anywhere they went.

There was another part of Kera's introduction that interested Zeldryn even more.

“A healer?” he repeated quietly.

Healing Manholers were far rarer than those who chose paths focused primarily on combat. Most mana users throughout the novel fought using swords, spears, bows, or countless other methods designed to kill their enemies. Healers occupied a very different role, and there were far fewer of them.

If Kera truly was a Level 3 Healing Manholer, then his abilities shouldn't be limited to closing small wounds or stopping ordinary bleeding. Zeldryn remembered several explanations from the novel describing healers at that level as capable of treating deep wounds, repairing muscle damage, and even restoring severed nerves under the right circumstances. As long as enough tissue remained to reconnect, a sufficiently skilled healer could potentially repair injuries that would otherwise leave someone permanently disabled.

Someone with that kind of ability should be extremely valuable.

Zeldryn examined Kera from head to toe again. The man wore a clean white robe, had neatly styled black hair that reminded him of the two-block hairstyle common in the modern world, and stood at an impressive height. His face could easily be called handsome, a pair of glasses rested neatly over his eyes, and a long staff remained in one hand.

Yet that strange smile still hadn't disappeared.

'Tall, handsome, a Level 3 Manholer, and a healer on top of that... Why does his smile have to look so damn suspicious?'

Kera continued waiting without showing any sign that Zeldryn's stare bothered him.

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Eventually, Zeldryn spoke. “Kera?”

“That is correct, Young Lord.”

“A Manholer?”

“Yes.”

Zeldryn didn't immediately continue. Instead, his thoughts shifted toward another part of Kera's introduction.

The main residence.

Those two words mattered far more than they might have seemed at first. From the information Hera had given him, Zeldryn already understood at least part of his current situation. He had been placed far away from the main family, while both his mother and Zorin Giorry lived at the main residence. Whatever relationship the old Zeldryn had with the rest of the family, it clearly wasn't normal.

Now a Level 3 Manholer from that very residence had suddenly appeared inside his private room.

Zeldryn didn't know who Kera was or what kind of relationship he had with Zorin. That was precisely why trusting him immediately would have been foolish.

'Did Zorin send him?' Zeldryn wondered.

If so, what had the man actually been ordered to do? Had he come to examine Zeldryn, watch him, or carry out something else entirely?

Zeldryn still didn't know whether the people from the main residence should be treated as allies or enemies. Even when it came to Zorin himself, the information he possessed was far too limited for him to make that judgment safely.

For now, treating Kera with caution seemed like the better choice.

Zeldryn looked directly at him. “Why would a Level 3 Healing Manholer from the main residence come all the way out to a remote place like this?”

He made no attempt to hide the suspicion in his voice.

Kera finally straightened from his slight bow. The staff remained in the same position, and his faint smile didn't change.

“I came to deliver an invitation to Marquis Zorin's birthday celebration,” Kera answered.

Zeldryn froze.

Several seconds passed before he finally responded.

“Huh?”

He stared at Kera, certain he must have misunderstood something.

“To deliver a birthday invitation?”

“That is correct, Young Lord,” Kera replied calmly.

Zeldryn continued staring at him as his eyebrows slowly lowered.

A Level 3 Manholer had traveled all the way from the main residence to a border mansion just to deliver a birthday invitation.

The explanation was ridiculous.

If the Giorry family merely wanted to deliver an invitation, they surely had plenty of people who could handle such a simple task. They could have sent a servant, a messenger, a guard, or practically anyone whose actual responsibilities included carrying messages between residences.

There was no obvious reason to send a Level 3 Manholer.

Even if the invitation were somehow important enough to require protection from a mana user, sending someone at Level 1 would have made far more sense. The person standing before him wasn't merely Level 3 either. Kera was also a healer, which made him part of a much rarer and more valuable group of Manholers.

Zeldryn crossed both arms over his chest, temporarily forgetting that he still wasn't wearing anything on his upper body.

“A birthday invitation?” he asked again.

“Yes.”

Zeldryn stared at him without blinking. “So a Level 3 Manholer who also happens to be a healer came all the way from the main residence just to hand me an invitation?”

Kera didn't answer.

“Are there no servants?” Zeldryn continued.

The man remained silent.

“No guards?”

Zeldryn tilted his head slightly.

“Or is everyone at the main residence so busy that Level 3 Manholers are delivering letters now?”

Kera's smile grew slightly wider.

Zeldryn noticed immediately.

'This guy really is weird.'

“Why would a respected Manholer be sent all the way out here?” Zeldryn asked, examining him from head to toe once more. “Has a Level 3 Manholer really fallen this far?”

Silence settled over the room.

Kera remained near the doorway, apparently unbothered by the insult. After a moment, that strange smile became slightly more pronounced.

“Hmm...”

His gaze traveled slowly over Zeldryn as though he were examining something rather than simply looking at him.

Zeldryn didn't like that look.

A few seconds later, Kera finally spoke.

“It seems the rumors about you being an idiot aren't entirely true after all, are they?”

Zeldryn fell silent.

For several seconds, he simply stared at Kera while trying to determine whether he had heard correctly.

'Idiot?'

The word repeated inside his mind.

'Did this guy just insult me? Directly to my face?'

Zeldryn already knew that the original owner of this body had a terrible reputation. People apparently considered him a bastard, trash, and a troublemaker, so the possibility that members of the Giorry family also thought he was stupid wasn't difficult to believe.

Thinking something privately, however, was completely different from saying it directly to the son of a Marquis.

Even as a Level 3 Manholer, Kera was still associated with the Giorry family, at least assuming the social structure of this world worked the way Zeldryn currently understood it. More importantly, the man claimed to come directly from the main residence, which meant he should understand the etiquette involved in speaking to a noble far better than most ordinary people.

Yet he had just called Zeldryn an idiot to his face.

And he was still smiling.

Zeldryn slowly lowered his crossed arms as the way he looked at Kera changed. Strangely enough, he wasn't particularly angry.

He was even more suspicious than before.

'Who the hell is this guy?'