Chapter 30
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Chapter 30
After all, Curtis Rohan was a man of the Empire, so it would be strange if he didn't know about that person.
'That person is truly famous and remarkable, after all.'
In this world, there existed a race called the 'Demons'—a species different from us humans.
Though their numbers were small, unlike humans where only a select few could become mages, all Demons were said to be proficient in magic.
With that formidable power, they constantly invaded and plundered human settlements.
Thus, conflict between humans and Demons never ceased.
Ten years ago.
The current Emperor, moved by the suffering of those living near the Demon Realm and its surrounding regions, devised a campaign to subjugate the Demon Realm.
The man who stood at the very forefront of that campaign was none other than
Dane Lowsweed, commander of the Imperial 2nd Knight Order.
An unparalleled genius who reached the rank of Sword Master at the youngest age in Imperial history.
His abilities were recognized, and he rose to the rank of vice-commander—all by the age of twenty.
That year, he led the Imperial forces into the Demon Realm and achieved consecutive victories despite the disadvantageous terrain.
Yet ultimately, he was ambushed by Demons and found himself in dire straits.
'In that situation, he ordered all his subordinates to retreat and remained alone to face the Demons, where he fell in battle.'
Four years later, during the second campaign to subjugate the Demon Realm, his body was never found, so officially he was listed as missing in action.
'No matter how great a Sword Master he was, if he was surrounded by enemy forces alone, he must have died.'
In any case, he was dead, but thanks to his consecutive victories in the Demon Realm, the Demons' invasions and plundering quieted for a time.
So the people of the Empire called him a 'hero' and revered him.
Just as I'm learning now from history books.
"So, what did our princess think when learning about that person?"
At Curtis Rohan's question, I blinked.
'Truthfully, I don't feel much of anything.'
Though I'm only nine years old now, my mental age has long surpassed the stage where historical figures seem impressive.
'But if I'm a nine-year-old who just learned history, I should naturally admire and long for heroes, right?'
And if I put myself in that person's position...
Choosing one's own death to save others is actually quite remarkable, isn't it?
"He's amazing!"
"...Amazing?"
"Yes! He's so strong he could defeat all those bad guys alone with ease, he saved his subordinates, and he was brave enough to die for them."
I answered with genuine sincerity, yet for some reason, Curtis Rohan wore a bitter smile.
"Vivian, that person might not actually be as amazing as all that."
"Why?"
"Because history is written by the victors, so it can only favor the victors' side."
I'd heard this before in my past life, though I hadn't thought deeply about it.
"It's possible that the Demons are actually good, and that person is evil, but people lied about it. They took his side simply because he's human like us."
Curtis Rohan explained, doing his best to match my level of understanding as a nine-year-old.
Though I already knew this, I listened intently, curious about why Curtis Rohan suddenly brought it up.
"But judging whether someone is good or bad based solely on their race is wrong. Just as there are thieves and bad people among humans, there are also good Demons among the Demons."
Curtis Rohan seemed worried that I might view only one side of history as recorded from the Empire's perspective and harbor prejudice.
That's my father for you.
How thoughtful of him to consider even such things.
"I just hope you won't hate all the demon-kind, Vivian, just because you've only read history written from our human perspective."
"Father, have you ever met a good demon-kind?"
I asked on a whim, and his hesitation told me I'd struck a nerve.
Then, as if recalling memories from the past, his eyes grew distant as he answered.
"Yes. Before the Demon Realm was sealed."
The passages connected to the Demon Realm were hidden throughout the Empire, but they were completely sealed after the war six years ago.
'So the Demon King, who lost in our war, sealed the Demon Realm himself, as the histories say.'
And so now, neither demon-kind nor humans could cross into each other's worlds.
"Back then, I only believed the history I'd learned and thought poorly of that person. And..."
Father's eyes, which had been lost in the past, finally met mine.
Those golden eyes, so like my own, soon twisted into a faint smile.
"I regretted it."
That smile seemed both sorrowful and wistful.
He was surely remembering that 'good demon-kind.'
Just as I grew curious about what sort of being that demon-kind was, Father continued.
"So I hope our princess won't have regrets like mine."
I gazed steadily at Father as he spoke.
Among all the adults I know, Father is the most mature and good-hearted.
He knows how to admit his mistakes even before his daughter and correct them.
'I should become an adult like Father too.'
I nodded vigorously to reassure him.
"I understand, Father. I'll judge for myself whether someone is good or bad. I won't be swayed by what others say."
Only then did a smile bloom across Father's face. Soon, a large but tender hand ruffled my cheek.
"Whose daughter are you to be so kind and clever?"
"Hmm... Mother's daughter, perhaps?"
At my playful answer, Father let out a hollow laugh and gently pinched my cheek.
I giggled, delighting in his touch.
It was an evening as peaceful as any other.
* * *
After finishing dinner, Vivian went up to the bathroom to wash.
Dias, who remained on the first floor, finished the dishes and tidied the Kitchen, then prepared the bread to bake the next morning before heading up to the second floor.
By now, Vivian should have finished washing and be drying her hair at the vanity.
Brushing that child's hair and watching her fall asleep was one of his daily duties.
"Princess, did you brush your teeth thoroughly? Did you rinse all the soap... Vivian?"
Unlike usual, Vivian stood before the window with a towel wrapped around her head.
And beyond that window lay the Western Forest—the place he reminded her every day she must never enter.
Sensing his presence, Vivian turned to face him.
"Curtis Rohan."
"Why are you standing there? You haven't even dried your hair. Is something outside?"
"Well, you see..."
"Hmm?"
I hesitated for a moment, gauging his expression, before pressing my lips firmly together and shaking my head.
"Oh, no. It's nothing. Just dry my hair for me, please."
Yet it was painfully obvious that I was hiding something I'd been about to confess.
A child who had lost her mother in infancy—so young I couldn't even remember it—had grown up alongside a novice father, maturing far beyond her years.
Perhaps because of this, I had developed a tendency to conceal my troubles whenever I feared they might worry him.
Dias slipped his hand between my arms as I tried to flee toward the vanity, scooping me up in a gentle embrace.
Though I was considerably smaller than him, my small frame was anything but light in his hold.
"Curtis Rohan?"
"Come now, before my arms give out—tell me quickly. What's wrong?"
"It's really nothing much..."
"If it's nothing much, then there's all the more reason you should tell me, Princess."
My large eyes darted about nervously, and I surrendered to his insistence with a soft sigh, finally opening my mouth.
"It's truly nothing serious, and it might sound strange, but... the Forest keeps calling to me."
"The Forest? You mean the Western Forest?"
"Yes."
"Who? You're hearing a voice?"
"No, no. It's not someone calling me—it feels like the Forest itself is calling to me."
"...The Forest itself?"
"Yes. Strange, isn't it?"
Upon hearing my answer, Dias's eyes grew cold and distant, his gaze shifting toward the Forest beyond the window I'd been looking through.
But he quickly composed himself and looked back at me with a playful tone.
"Could it be that you want to go to the Forest precisely because I told you not to?"
"No! You said there are scary monsters living in the Forest, remember? I've never wanted to go there!"
At my vehement protest, Dias chuckled warmly.
He sat me down at the vanity and dried my hair, reiterating his warning.
"Right. So you must never, ever go into the Forest. Understood?"
"Yes, yes."
I answered drowsily, yawning repeatedly.
My eyes had grown heavy from the moment he began drying my hair, and by the final brushstrokes, I was nodding off.
Dias lifted me up as I began to slump forward against the vanity, carrying me carefully to bed and laying me down with tender care.
He pressed a soft kiss to my round forehead as I slept.
"Sweet dreams, Vivian."
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