Chapter 54
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Chapter 54 "...."
"You could have summoned me anytime, really."
"You...."
"Or given it to me during the appointment ceremony. There were plenty of opportunities."
Watching Yurien de Harden Kirie's flustered expression, which struck me as oddly ticklish and endearing, I teased him further. He added a protest to his words.
"You seemed to dislike me."
"Me? Dislike you, Lord?"
My voice rose involuntarily as I echoed his words. Who dislikes whom? I was going mad realizing I shamelessly adored him. At my counter-question, Yurien lowered his gaze.
"I know now that isn't true. Last time, you called me beauti——."
"Wait, wait, wait. You don't need to finish that sentence. Please, don't say it."
I cut him off, my face burning crimson. Yurien's eyes widened, then he laughed softly. Still flushed, I grasped the Amethyst on the table. As I attempted to fasten the belt around my waist, a desolate voice pierced my soul. [Master. Master. Master.] Why are you calling me when you know I can't answer right now, you damned Demonic Sword? I grumbled inwardly. I couldn't figure out how to fasten the belt properly. As I fumbled with the white leather cord, the Demonic Sword's voice suddenly shrieked so loudly that I startled and dropped it. [Are you equipping another sword right now? Huh? And even complimenting it as pretty? That's too much! You've never done that for me! To some pathetic thing that isn't even Giosa! I'm prettier! I'm more durable! Get rid of that thing immediately! It's completely hideous!] It was far louder whining than usual—like a spoiled seven-year-old throwing a tantrum on the floor, shrieking relentlessly. I reflexively covered my ears. [I obediently listened even when you said you'd discard me, but you, Master, accept another sword while I'm still here and praise it! I hate you! I'm so sad! I'm going to sulk! I'm going to become twisted!] Covering my ears made no difference; the voice reaching my soul remained unchanged. Bardegiosa's clamoring made my head throb. I mercilessly channeled mana through my right hand. [Ow! Ah! Geez, Master only hates me....] The Demonic Sword grumbled sulkily before falling silent. It seemed I'd need to have a separate conversation with it later. As I sighed, a shadow suddenly fell across me.
"L-Lord?"
"It appears difficult to fasten. May I lend a hand?"
Yurien had somehow circled the table and approached me. He leaned against the sofa's backrest, looking down at the white leather cord hanging awkwardly around my waist. Though he asked politely rather than immediately attempting to fix it, the mere fact that he'd drawn so close left me half-senseless. I nodded without thinking.
"Pardon me."
He grasped the cord, wrapped it once around my waist, and finished by tying the bead at my side. In doing so, his arm briefly embraced my waist before withdrawing.
"This is how you fasten it."
"Th-thank you."
Yurien spoke matter-of-factly and stepped back, heading toward the guest room door. Still half-senseless, I asked unconsciously.
"Where are you going?"
"...My throat is parched. What about you?"
"Oh, I'm fine."
"I'll be back shortly."
Yurien left the guest room in an instant. Left alone, I stared blankly at my waist before burying my face in my hands. My entire face burned. [Why did he suddenly leave? Well, since he's gone, can I speak now?] "If you tell me to discard Amethyst, I'll break you first." [Why! Why! Wow, you're already calling it by name! You never liked swords anyway! Why are you treating it specially! Just use anything and discard it like before!] "This is an exception." [That makes no sense! Why is it an exception? Because it's expensive?] "Because Yurien gave it to me...."
I grew flustered at my own words, touching my lips nervously. I let the Demonic Sword's endless grumbling go in one ear and out the other, gazing at the Amethyst hanging at my waist—the white blade he had crafted for me. 'Every time I look at this, now....' Yurien de Harden Kirie would come to mind before the nightmarish memories. A sudden, thunderous realization struck me. Perhaps for a while, perhaps forever. I would no longer need to relive those terrible memories when gazing upon the amethyst. A warmth spread from the very depths of my soul, seeping through me like warm water soaking into cloth.
"What should I do.... It seems to be getting better."
These dreamlike moments would not last long. Reality waited with gaping jaws. Yet the emotions I had only just discovered, still intoxicating and euphoric, refused to release me easily. I simply closed my eyes, as if turning away. * * * The train ran ceaselessly throughout the day. We arrived at the station of Criola, a great metropolis in the Eastern Empire, in the dead of night. Outside the station, multiple carriages stood waiting even at this late hour, hoping to catch departing passengers.
"We'll need to sleep inside the carriage."
Yurien de Harden Kirie said this as he secured two carriages. We boarded separate ones and departed toward our destination. Quite exhausted, I fell asleep not long after boarding. A mire of blood and flesh. I lay sprawled across it. A metallic stench pierced my nostrils. A skull with hollow eyes, half-submerged in blood, stared at me. The skull opened its mouth and spoke. 【Your family's blood. The blood of those you held dear. The blood and tears of the innocent. It is all yours.】 【Ugh....】 My voice would not come. I tried to rise with a silent scream. But the mire bound me, refusing to let go. Stop, stop. Finally, as I began to weep, light poured down upon me from above. A pure, radiant light that shimmered with nobility. I gazed up at it. May I touch it? Is this light truly descended for me? Can this light save me? I reached toward the light. Crimson blood traced a net-like pattern down my raised forearm and flowed away. My red hand touched the light. The light shattered. 【Ah.】 Every fragment of the breaking light was blood-red. Severed heads, corpses with spilling entrails, contorted faces, cursing screams, pooling blood—all reflected in those shards. The light became stained crimson and poured down. 【Did I destroy it?】 The collapsed light became red fragments, accumulating upon my mire. It formed a corpse. A white man's body, stained crimson. Blue eyes I had not noticed stared directly at me. As if resenting me for what I had made of him. You said you would win. You said you would thank me for watching. I believed you. But you. Is this the price of my faith in you? Is this the result of the chance I gave you? I should not have waited for you. I should have killed you there. Unspoken reproach from him—I imagined it, staring at his corpse. Red liquid pooled and flowed from the corpse's blue eyes. The corpse smiled and whispered. 【How dare you, of all people, claim to love me?】 I screamed. [Hey, hey, are you alright? Why are you shouting in your sleep like that? You scared me!] "Miss, what is the matter?"
The Demonic Sword's voice and the Carriage Driver's voice, turning back as he opened the small window, reached me simultaneously. I breathed heavily, drenched in cold sweat.
"Gasp, huff...."
It seemed I had been dreaming. What dream was it? Ah, a nightmare. I had nightmares often enough. It was nothing. A familiar occurrence. As I ceaselessly repeated this to myself, my breathing steadied. Soon I could smile nonchalantly and speak to the Carriage Driver.
"It is nothing, merely a nightmare."
"You gave me quite a fright, hehe. Perhaps the sleeping arrangements were uncomfortable. Well, it is about time you woke anyway."
"How much farther?"
"We have nearly arrived. If you open the window, you should see the village."
I opened the wooden shutter on the side of the carriage, which had been firmly closed. Thick mist rushed into the carriage. It cooled the cold sweat upon me. [It has been a while since I have seen you have nightmares? Is this the first since you turned back time? What was the dream?] "...I do not know. I have forgotten."
I gave the Demonic Sword a vague answer and gazed beyond the mist with narrowed eyes. Beyond Yurien de Harden Kirie's carriage running ahead, the village drew near. It was a small village. We descended at the village entrance and sent the carriages away. Yurien de Harden Kirie purchased some provisions and promptly left the village. He walked without hesitation, as if he already knew his destination well. Where he headed was the Village Hillside.
"Will you be alright?"
Just before entering the uphill path, he turned back to look at me. His gaze lingered on my high-heeled shoes. I reflexively nodded.
"I will be fine."
I could not bear to show him even a glimpse of myself stepping outside the role of 'Countess's Daughter Echinacea Loaz'. The fear that had deepened after recognizing the emotions I harbored within myself had become almost obsessive. Yurien did not ask twice. He soon began ascending the mountain ahead of me. I followed several paces behind him. Climbing a mountain while wearing shoes and a billowing petticoat proved far more cumbersome than anticipated. Fortunately, the mountain was merely a gentle hill—neither tall nor treacherous—yet it remained inconvenient nonetheless. Had I not been a Master, I would have collapsed from exhaustion long ago. I discreetly channeled mana through my body to sustain myself. Yurien walked ahead, but since mana moving within another's body could not be detected without direct contact, it posed no concern. Of course, the matter would be entirely different if mana visibly leaked outward or if movements became impossible without it. The most prominent example of the latter was sparring—when facing someone capable of distinguishing between movements powered by mana and those without, using mana risked exposing my nature as a Master. This was the greatest reason I avoided sparring with Yurien. When facing him, I could not help but use mana, yet there was a world of difference between circulating mana to support my body while merely following behind and wielding mana while crossing blades. Yurien would surely discern immediately if I used even the slightest mana to enhance my movements during a match. 'No... wait.' As I cursed the petticoat and shoes inwardly and dwelled on such thoughts, I suddenly grasped a fact I had overlooked until now. 'There's no need to actually perform well when sparring with Yurien, is there?' It would be perfectly natural for me to flail clumsily with my sword and lose. Of course it would. I was merely a first-year Military Academy student and a squire. It would be stranger still if I could actually spar properly against Yurien, the commander of the Changtian Knights and owner of Giosa. 'Why didn't I think of this sooner?'
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