16 Discovered Secret
A week had passed since Yuria left.
The empire is now buzzing with adventurers flocking to Hamel because of the unidentified dungeon discovered there.
Hearing news of a dungeon in Hamel, adventurers began arriving with dreams of striking it rich.
Adventurers heading to the bustling area passed between the mansion's walls, and we watched them absentmindedly.
-Surely it's an unidentified dungeon, right? Just need one solid artifact to come my way, please.
-Damn it. Like that's going to happen? You should have prayed at the church like I did.
-Give me a break, fool. You should quit gambling.
I watched the backs of the adventurers leaving with hope and muttered softly.
"Pfft."
***
The quiet second floor, in the lady's room.
The lady frowned at the old bundle placed on the bed.
"Is this what Ricardo called the 4D pocket?"
"Yes."
An old bundle with patchy stitching.
As the lady poked it with her finger, the clear sound of coins jingling came from within.
"Ooh…!"
The lady nodded her head.
"A pouch that grants wishes!"
"That's right. This is a 4D pocket that can grant any wish."
Eyes wide, the lady focused all her attention on the old bundle. She hesitated to touch it as if it were a sacred relic, looking to me for salvation.
"Can I use this to conquer the world?"
"Do you want to?"
"Mhm."
Taken aback by such an unexpected answer, I quickly shifted my gaze.
The lady asked again.
"Is it possible?"
"Well, that's a bit…"
"What? Then…"
The lady's interest waned and with an "Ugh," she hit the bundle, sending a stream of glittering gold coins pouring out.
The lady pointed at the coins with her finger, her face asking what in the world was going on.
"Treasure?"
I nodded.
"Treasure."
The treasures in the bundle were gathered during our 2-night, 3-day exploration of the dusty dungeon, a week ago.
The treasures that adventurers dreamt of striking rich with were now inside this worn-out bundle.
Overwhelmed with amazement, the lady's hands trembled.
"I can… grant my wish."
"With that amount, hardly."
"Not enough?"
"Yes."
"Still, it's great."
Smiling, the lady began placing the gold coins against her chest as if she were a bank robber scooping money into a bag. Observing the lady swiftly moving her hands, I asked.
"What are you doing?"
"Saving."
"Over there?"
The lady nodded.
I took pleasure in seeing the lady develop such a strange habit, my eyes feasting on the spectacle.
'Perhaps… this is better.'
I began to pull out items from the bundle, brought from the dungeon.
"Ooh…!"
As one dazzling item after another was lined up on the bed, the lady's eyes rounded in excitement, her hands clapping.
"Do you see this?"
A bracelet fashioned from gold, a golden goblet, and more. The lady felt dizzy among the brilliant array of treasures, dazzling enough to blind, and she placed her hand on her forehead, staggering.
"Oh no… I feel like I'm going to go blind."
I shrugged, as if it were no big deal.
"This is the extent of our wealth."
"Are we no longer poor?"
"Yes."
"Really?"
The lady looked at me incredulously as though she couldn't believe it.
Today, she looked at me with an expression of pride I had seldom seen; it was so rare that my face flushed red.
The lady raised her thumb.
With a refreshing smile, she threw me the highest praise.
"I'm proud of you!"
I scratched the back of my head and blushed.
"I know."
Riding high on the lady's praise, I continued to pull out the remaining items.
────────────────
Mana Potion [A]
◈If consumed by an individual with a mana stat of '+30' or less, their mana stat will increase by '+10'.
────────────────
This gift is for Malik.
Thinking of Malik, who should be awakening his aura soon, I brought this treasure from the dungeon.
Aura is notorious for its poor 'fuel efficiency.'
For a swordsman, mana serves as a means to cast auxiliary magic spells that require relatively less mana, such as physical strengthening spells. However, after awakening to aura, one needs to focus on increasing the overall amount of mana to rival that of magicians.
For Malik, mana is not just a useful stat to have, but an essential one that must be increased.
If even a small amount of total mana increases, it allows for one more sword-energy attack, which can lead to victory in battle, so there was a high possibility that Malik was looking for this kind of elixir.
If the elixir, safely packed, arrives for Malik, perhaps he will visit the mansion.
Such is the value of this expensive elixir, with a worth that cannot be quantified in money.
If Malik comes to our house, I should ask him for a few "Forest Friend" meal vouchers.
I set aside the elixir and grabbed a sword that was sticking out conspicuously from the bundle.
A white-sheathed sword enveloping the blade.
────────────────
Beginner's Sword [A+]
◈Intended for novices who have just awakened to aura. Crafted from a special material that allows for more efficient use of mana when using aura.
[Efficiency's Reward]
Reduces aura mana consumption by 10%.
[Beginner's Blessing]
Allows one use of aura-infused sword-energy attack when out of mana. (Once per day)
────────────────
This sword is a gift intended for Hanna.
The last time we parted ways, I had vowed to myself to give her a gift. It was the sword Michail used up to the middle of the novel.
I lifted the sword to check it.
A sword too light and with a blade too short for my use.
Though it felt a bit regretful to gift away a sword with a dignified design and two additional capabilities, it just didn't suit my hand. More importantly, it was more suitable for Hanna, a woman, than me.
As for Michail, there's no need to worry about such a talented guy; he will grow on his own without such things.
He was not particularly attached to equipment and had exceptional talent, so it would be fair for him to start with such a handicap.
After setting aside the gifts meant for the Histania siblings, I felt an intense gaze upon me.
-Glaringly…
Though pretending to be uninterested, the lady's blatant stare was fixed on the bundle, awaiting her gift.
"…"
An expectant gaze, full of hope.
When I playfully avoided the lady's gaze, I could hear her sigh in disappointment.
'I would have been in trouble if I hadn't prepared something separate.'
Anticipating this moment and thinking of the lady, I had set aside a special gift. With an awkward smile, I pulled out a necklace from the old bundle.
I wasn't sure if she would like it.
"This is a gift for you, my lady."
A necklace with a golden frame and a red gemstone inlaid.
Upon seeing the necklace, the lady's eyes widened, and she was delighted.
"Ex…ex…expensive-looking."
"It is expensive."
"Ooooooh…."
The lady admired the necklace's radiant beauty as she held it up to the sunlight.
Turning it left, flipping it upside down, and even going as far as to bite it. At that, I said,
"It's dirty."
"Gold isn't dirty."
"What nonsensical thing are you saying?"
"Ricardo, my mother used to say that things that shine are always right."
Indeed.
I nodded. Surely things that glitter are always right, whether it's gold coins or gold and even the chocolate…
Anyway.
The lady was right in her saying, but biting into a necklace brought from a dusty dungeon was anything but clean.
Monsters might have played with it in the dungeon, or the original owner might have used it filthily.
I quickly snatched the necklace from the lady's hand and wiped off the dust with a white handkerchief.
"In any case, it's dirty."
"No, it isn't."
"Look here."
I showed the lady how the handkerchief was blackened with grime.
"Ew."
The lady frowned.
After rinsing her mouth with water and keeping her focus on the necklace, she inquired,
"How much would this fetch if sold?"
"The necklace, you mean?"
Eagerly asking the price right upon receiving it, the lady revealed her materialistic side, fitting that of a noblewoman.
I thoughtfully considered the lady's question. Wanting to impress, I mixed a little truth with falsehood in my response.
'Since it's an artifact from the dungeon, perhaps…'
"It must be worth 100,000 gold, I suppose?"
"Eeek…! That much?"
"Would it not be?"
Hearing the price, the lady looked at the necklace adoringly.
"I really like this."
"I'm glad you like it."
The lady seemed to contemplate.
"Is it okay to give me something so valuable?"
"You used to wear even more costly things."
"Still… this is valuable. Seems like it could buy ten years' worth of beef?"
Having gained a proper sense of economy after once becoming impoverished, the lady's sense of financial responsibility impressed me, but I had already designated her as the true owner of the necklace when I saw it in the dungeon.
"It's fine. It suits you."
"Really? Does it look good?"
"Yes. I thought you were a goddess."
"Hehe…"
The lady smiled happily.
Having cleaned all the tarnish, I placed the necklace around the lady's neck.
It matched perfectly with her pale neck. It was, of course, an easy compliment since she was naturally beautiful, but seeing the lady look so harmonious with the necklace made me smile with pride.
'I really did well bringing it.'
────────────────
Promised Necklace [A+]
◈A necklace given by a conscripted man to his beloved wife as they parted for war.
[Let's Meet Again]
If the necklace chain breaks, the wearer swaps places with the giver. (Once)
────────────────
This artifact, though not appearing in the novel, had a good ability, so I brought it.
Seeing that the lady liked it made me feel delighted too.
In a moment of distraction.
-Rustle… Rustle…
The lady was already rummaging inside the bundle.
Was my gift not enough for her?
As she buried her face into the dusty bundle, a feeling of slight annoyance made me block the opening of the bundle.
"Eeeeeek…!"
"Ricardo…! The bundle is eating me!"
The lady struggled.
"Eeeek."
Before she could swear out loud, I opened the blocked entrance of the bundle.
The lady, covered in dust, glared at me sharply.
"Ugh…."
Seeing the dust matted in her hair, I turned my gaze to the window, whistling.
"It looks like the bundle monster found you quite tasty."
"No, it's a lie. It was Ricardo."
"Was it obvious?"
"Yeah."
After a moment of silence, the lady reached out her arm to me energetically, seemingly about to throw a gold coin she'd picked from the bundle.
"Such a feeble attack won't…"
I turned my head to dodge, but instead of throwing the coin, the lady grabbed my wrist. She then offered me a gold bracelet she had taken from the bundle.
The lady said to me with a cheerful smile,
"This is for Ricardo."
"For me, you say?"
"Yes."
The lady smiled brightly. Covered in dust, her face showed an innocent smile, which oddly touched my heart.
The lady took my right wrist.
Just as she was about to personally fasten the bracelet on me, she paused and tensed up.
"Ricardo."
"Yes?"
The lady looked at my right sleeve and spoke.
I noticed a question mark in my mind as she gazed at me with eyes full of reproach, not understanding the reason.
"You've wrapped your hand in bandages?"
"Ah…"
I replied with an awkward smile,
"You said you didn't like tattoos."
The lady decisively said,
"I've come to like them now."
"I'm embarrassed, though."
The lady told me,
"You're mean."
And so, I was scorned again today.
*** ***
"How radiant…! Flash. Flash."
For the lady whose occupation seemed to be idling away in bed, a new pastime had emerged.
A luxurious hobby of reflecting her necklace in the sunlight filtering through the windowpane. Her complexion grew brighter day by day, glowing as much as the resplendent necklace.
The corner of her mouth upturned in a smile, her purse became plump.
"100,000 gold… If I sell this, it'll be 100,000 gold!"
Observing the lady's materialistic grin, I mused,
'It's a good thing I gifted it to her.'
Had I said, 'Miss, there's no gift for you,'… I may have had to witness her simmering sullenly like spinach for a week…
I remember, three months ago, I had sneakily indulged in some chicken at the market, and after getting caught, she went into a 'spinach' mood for an entire day, a memory that still haunts me.
"I'm not going to bathe. Since I'm practically a beggar already, I might as well become a filthy hobo from a clean loafer."
I recall the amount of chocolate and bath bombs I offered to soothe the lady's anger. I don't remember the exact amount, but it was quite a lot.
The lady, now one with the bed, wriggled like a caterpillar. I asked her, who seemed to have resigned to enjoying a slothful life,
"Do you enjoy it that much?"
"Mhm. It sparkles so brilliantly."
"Planning to sell it later?"
"No… Not yet. I'm not selling it just yet."
The lady nestled the necklace between her breasts, hugging it as if embracing a great treasure with a generous heart.
Looking at the necklace, I couldn't help thinking,
'I'm damn jealous of it.'
Lately, I've found myself envying mere objects. Irritated that an inanimate thing enjoyed privileges not even a butler like me could. It's not because I have a perverse fondness for chests, mind you. It's about privilege… the privilege.
"Hehe… 100,000 gold. Enough meat for ten years."
The lady hugged the necklace tightly to her and snickered, her belly lightly drumming like a miserly old man savoring a meal of plain rice with a dried fish hanging by the dining table. She grinned contentedly, like a delighted fool.
It seems sight alone can satiate hunger.
I left the lady to herself in the room, going over to retrieve the sword I had placed in a corner.
"Where are you off to?"
"I'd like to get in some sword practice. I've been feeling a bit stiff."
"Practice?"
The lady tilted her head, eyeing me with a look that conveyed skepticism, as if questioning the sudden need for practice from someone who used to skip swordsmanship classes at the Royal Academy. It was difficult to make excuses when my past negligence appeared genuine.
There were times when the swordsmanship instructor favored the nobility over commoners, which led me to skip classes, and I hardly ever wielded a sword in front of her—only a handful of instances.
Besides, the lady, an excellent sorceress, had never shown any interest in swordsmanship, and it seemed a bit awkward to show her my unglamorous skills.
It wasn't the admirable, substantial swordsmanship like Michail's, nor was it adorned with the flair of Histania's. My own swordsmanship was plain and rudimentary, making it slightly embarrassing to perform publicly.
"Where will you practice?"
"At the courtyard."
I pointed out to the mansion's sun-drenched yard, visible from the window.
A spot clearly visible to the lady on the second floor.
The lady observed me intently, full of exasperation.
She seemed to dislike the idea of perhaps being dragged outside, as indicated by her expression.
She scowled at the bright sunlight outside the window, her display of aversion bringing a smile to my face.
I asked her again,
"Would you like to come out with me?"
The lady shook her head vigorously.
"No. The sun seems furious; it would be terrible to go out now."
"Just say you're too lazy to go out."
"Was it that obvious?"
"Yes."
Caught revealing her true feelings, the lady flopped onto the bed and flicked her hand lazily.
"Shoo─shoo─"
***
In the sun-drenched yard,
I loosened my right shoulder as if turning a windmill.
After the fight with Balak, realizing the shortcomings I had in facing greatsword-wielders, I stood here to refine my sword technique.
I looked up to see the lady on the second floor, who was munching on chocolates.
I waved back lightly.
"Mistress, where did you get the chocolate from?"
"Chocolate?"
The lady puffed out her chest with pride and pointed to her bosom with her finger, stating with confidence,
"From here."
On this day particularly, I truly envied the chocolate.
I quickly warmed up my body, rotating the sword in figure eights to loosen my wrists and stretching my legs thoroughly.
After making my stiff body supple, I grasped the sword firmly in my right hand.
-[The genius of weapon techniques has detected the weapon 'sword'.]
-Your proficiency will surge.
-Your understanding of the sword will leap.
-You will become a sword technique genius.
The alert resounded. I reflected upon the last battle in my mind.
-Can even the young swordsman withstand this?
The heavy swings.
-Quite remarkable.
Myself, struggling to parry.
I remembered the trembling of my hands and the greatsword looming perilously close each time Balak delivered a blow. I was always falling back during that time.
Imagining Balak's illusion before me, I held the sword steady.
A swordsman who uses a greatsword naturally possesses considerable strength.
Each blow was ponderous like a hammer, and if mishandled, the blade might break under the severe weight.
The same happened during the previous battle.
I saw the phantom of Balak wielding a greatsword.
With its wide reach and explosive aura, Balak seemed to focus solely on offense, making me swallow hard.
'A real monster indeed.'
If it hadn't been for Yuria, I might've run away without looking back, but seeing an even more monstrous Balak once more stirred a fighting spirit within me.
'Let's do this.'
I am lacking in technique.
I had ingrained habits that were hard to correct without a mentor, and there were too many remnants of past experiences etched into my body to start refining from one to ten.
My sole talent was the ability called 'the genius of weapon techniques,' and the fact that I had a large canvas to fill.
This canvas called 'me' already had plenty of pictures drawn on it, but there was still much space left for more.
A canvas waiting to be filled through numerous experiences and meeting formidable opponents.
I gripped the sword.
'Let's go.'
In this moment, filled with tension,
I concentrated all my nerves on the sword.
With the resolve not to be pressed back like before, I grounded myself, channeling strength from my core.
And I swung the sword explosively.
Whoosh. The sword cleaved through the wind as I envisioned it slicing through Balak in the future, and with vigor, I swung the sword.
The imagined Balak's phantom did the same, swinging the greatsword broadly just like that time.
The moment sword met sword.
-Clang!
As the sword slipped weakly from my grasp, Balak's phantom cleaved through my neck.
Oh?
An awkward silence followed.
The sword had slipped from my hand, and my right hand trembled.
I looked back and forth between the fallen sword and my trembling right hand.
"Why… why is this happening?"
I picked up the sword from the ground and readjusted my grip. With determination not to let go this time, I grasped the hilt tightly, making a 'click' sound.
Once again, I swung the sword broadly.
-Clang.
Again, the sword fell to the ground powerlessly.
Bent over, I swallowed hard saliva. Cold sweat ran down, and my fingertips trembled with an odd sense of unease.
This is strange.
Why won't strength enter my right hand?
I had eaten well until the morning, so why was my right hand not following commands? I looked up to the second floor with an awkward smile, where the lady resided.
Fortunately, she seemed oblivious to the strangeness, savoring the chocolates deliciously.
I let out a breath of relief.
The lady calmly called out to me to come up quickly. She said if I wasn't going to practice, I should join her in admiring the necklace instead.
I straightened my back.
After continuously staring at the fallen sword, I let out a deep sigh and went back up to the mansion.
My right hand was still trembling.
***
After waiting for the tremors to stop, I stood in front of the lady's room.
-Wardrobe?
-Yes. Prepare the chocolate cake and…
-Jingle…
-Here, the money.
-No, my lady! You shouldn't be taking the money out from there…
-It's fine. I'm rich.
-It's not about the money… And you've given too much.
-Consider it a tip. But you must certainly do as I asked.
The lady engaged in a significant conversation with the maid.
I couldn't hear everything said between the lady and the maid's whispering clearly, but piecing together what I inadvertently overheard, it seemed the lady was sending the maid on an errand.
The lady sending out for errands…
Having wondered where she procured all those chocolates from, and now realizing the transaction point was the maid, I discovered the lady's covert dealings and couldn't help a small laugh.
'So cunning.'
I didn't want to disturb the lady's little joys.
She was learning about the economy by giving out tasks, and the maid benefited from tips, making it a win-win situation. I decided to observe a little more.
The conversation between the lady and the maid continued for about three minutes, and the maid's voice, bidding a polite farewell to attend to other duties, reached my ears.
-I shall have it ready by the date you mentioned.
-Thank you. I'm counting on you.
-Creak.
As the door opened, the middle-aged maid and I locked eyes.
"Mister butler…!"
"Shh. Please, be quiet."
I placed my finger to my lips and covered the maid's mouth.
And so time swiftly passed, and three days went by.
*** ***
It was another sunny morning.
As always, I powerfully strode toward the young lady's second-floor room, dressed in my neatly ironed butler suit and black shoes.
It was now 10 am. Normally, the lady would be having breakfast at this time, but due to my oversleeping, I failed to synchronize with the lady's internal clock.
I thought to myself,
'I've overslept again. I wonder if the lady will scold me.'
After realizing that my right hand could no longer wield a sword, I had desperately devoted myself to finding an alternative, which naturally resulted in increased instances of oversleeping.
Fortunately, the lady was not a morning person, so oversleeping for about an hour was not a big problem. Nevertheless, guilt over not fulfilling my butler duties properly had me fastening the buttons on my shirt and scurrying down the hallway.
At that moment, I encountered the maid holding a laundry basket in the corridor.
"You're busy today, Mister Butler."
The only maid of the mansion greeted me with a kind smile, giving a business-like greeting to her de facto employer, me.
Content with the maid's professional demeanor, I greeted her with a nod.
"Good morning."
"Yes, good morning. Oh, by the way, did the lady say anything special to you yesterday?"
"I haven't heard anything."
"Ah… a surpri…"
The maid trailed off in her speech. She seemed to have something to say, glancing at me briefly before muttering 'never mind.' Her vague comments from this morning put me in an awkward position.
Being someone who can't stand not knowing, I pressed the maid for more information, but all I got in return was her mirthful eye-smile.
"It's nothing really. I just meant the weather is nice."
She hinted I'd find out later, but the thought of everyone else being privy to something I wasn't made me anxious.
Is sharing the good stuff with me that bad?
If I'm warned about a hit, it hurts less when it strikes.
"Don't just keep it to yourself, let me know too."
Despite my continual questioning, the maid walked away kindly smiling, carrying her laundry basket without divulging anything. Her ambiguous chuckle as she headed to the laundry room was frustrating to a Korean like me who can't stand unanswered questions.
It felt like I had forgotten something as I walked out the front door.
While I sent resentful glances toward the maid, who left me with this morning's puzzle…
-Aaaaah!!! Air raid siren!
The lady had woken up.
***
Wiping her eyes upon waking, the lady looked at me from top to bottom, then bottom to top, scanning me up and down before nodding.
"I thought you were jerky."
"Which part do you mean?"
"The red hair."
"Do you want it?"
"Mm."
Deciding on jerky as today's snack, I handed over the honey water I had prepared in hopes of getting the lady to wake up more quickly.
Gulping it down, the lady looked at me again, sleep still lingering in her eyes. She stared intently at my face as if she saw something on it this time.
"Hmm…"
What?
"Hmm…"
The lady, propping her chin, observed me closely. Whether she noticed that I had not washed my face before coming to work, she couldn't seem to take her eyes off my apparently handsome face.
"Is this your first time seeing a handsome man?"
"Blech."
The lady clearly disliked the thought. What's wrong with my face?
My wounded pride went unnoticed by everyone else, so I hit the sleepy lady on the forehead to vent my frustration.
"Ugh… why did you hit me!"
"Think of it as employee welfare."
"Eeeek!!"
After a pillow fight wherein pillows flew about and the lady's hair was left a mess, she patted the side of the bed.
"Ricardo. Come and sit here."
The lady, whose bed was still unmade, commanded me to sit. After successfully hitting her with a pillow in the just-concluded pillow fight, I obediently moved to her side without a word.
The lady gazed at my face seriously.
"Something's weird."
"What seems to be the problem?"
The lady fidgeted with my face.
She stretched it from side to side, then up and down, just like I playfully do with her face sometimes, but now she was sculpting my face as if it were clay.
Perhaps due to her drowsy eyes, the lady squished my cheeks like a fish and pulled my face closer to hers.
It was close.
Too close.
"What are you doing?"
The lady said to me,
"Ricardo."
Her expression was slightly worried.
"Do you feel unwell?"
Taken aback by the unexpected question, I answered her with a dumbfounded look.
"I'm not sick. In fact, it's a problem how healthy I am. Didn't you see me throwing pillows earlier?"
"Why the sudden question? I'm fine."
Pondering why she would ask such a thing, I flexed my left arm, showing off my bulging biceps.
"Intimidating, isn't it?"
The lady did not even pretend to listen.
She repeated with worried eyes,
"Your eyes look very tired. It's as if you'd fall over with a slight touch."
"My eyes?"
I turned to look at the dressing table beside the bed.
"Oh…"
Reflecting my face in the mirror, I saw a decadent visage with faint dark circles, probably a result of yesterday's excessive sword practice.
Certainly, I looked like a sick person, but it wasn't serious enough to worry the lady to the point of asking me if I had seen something strange at night.
It seemed to be the lady's unwarranted concern following the bathhouse incident last time.
To alleviate her worries, I shook my head lightly and assured her,
"There's nothing wrong."
"Really?"
"Yes, in fact, I haven't washed my face today."
The lady then backed away a considerable distance.
"Ew… That's disgusting."
"My pockets are cleaner than yours."
"My pockets are clean."
The lady, taking pride in a strange aspect, came slowly back to my side after quickly washing her face with a wet towel. Grumbling, she dragged herself with her hand, which made my heart ache while being simultaneously adorable.
The lady took my hand.
A soft touch enveloped the back of my hand.
"Ricardo. You can't get sick."
"I'm healthy."
"Still, you can't get sick."
The lady made eye contact.
With the same kind of tone a teacher from the orphanage would use when imploring, 'Please, don't punch your friend in the face and play nicely,' the lady held my hand tightly and gave her earnest request.
"No matter what happens, you shouldn't get sick. I hate illness."
She pleaded with me once more.
"Got it?"
I nodded my head.
***
I finished a late breakfast, roughly when the lady's belly clock would normally ring again.
While I was brushing my teeth, the young lady said to me,
"Ricardo."
"Please speak after I'm done brushing."
"I don't like it."
The lady, spattering white foam, spoke. I wanted to flick her forehead, but today, she was being so commendably obedient that I held off.
She got up from the bed without dozing off again, didn't eat chocolate before brushing, and even expressed concern that I shouldn't get hurt.
The young lady's accomplishments today went beyond remarkable to the point where I felt the need to unlock the hidden snack pantry just for her.
I paid keen attention to her words.
"Do you know what day it is today?"
"What, today?"
I pondered. It couldn't be the lady's birthday since that's in winter, not the birthdays of the head of the household or the deputy head. So then…
"Is it your magic day?"
"Shut up!"
It had been a while since the young lady had sworn.
I asked the huffing lady,
"So what is today then?"
"You don't know?"
"No, I really don't."
"Really don't know?"
The young lady giggled, clearly knowing something significant.
It was rather strange to see the young lady, whose every birthday I knew, acting concerned about an anniversary. So she knew something and was possibly deceiving me…
Which was quite frightening.
The young lady spoke to me again,
"You really don't know?"
"Yes…"
"Really. Really don't know?"
"I'm telling you, let me know too…"
Lying down on the bed, the young lady burst into laughter, pounding on the mattress like a gleeful villain… well, she really was a villain.
Anyway, the lady looked at me with a blissful smile, her sparkling eyes staring at me, causing my ears to burn.
I said to the young lady,
"Lady, right on your chest."
"What's on my chest?"
"There…there…"
The frightfully bulging chest was smeared with white foam. The white foam that had splattered while she was brushing her teeth provoked some unholy thoughts.
The young lady nonchalantly wiped it away with her hand and put it into her mouth.
"What are you doing? That's filthy!"
"It's okay. It came from my mouth, so it's clean."
The young lady puffed out her chest with a satisfied expression. Really.
Seeing such a pleasant sight made me happy.
***
Late in the evening.
After finishing my sword practice in the yard, I wiped the sweat off my forehead.
"This should be enough."
Numerous sword marks littered the ground, ranging from those the size of a pinky finger to ones large enough to fit a person.
Now accustomed to wielding the sword with my left hand, I let out the deep sigh I had been holding back.
'This should hold me over until the next story.'
While I might not be up to Balak's level, I could easily handle the likes of Pascal or Michail.
And perhaps my left hand, which goes for powerful, singular strikes rather than the precise strikes of my right hand, is even better.
My gaze fell to my right arm with a sense of longing.
The slight trembling in my right arm persisted. It didn't seem like it would move easily.
It didn't look like it would move again until my resistance to dark magic increased. Since it's come to this, it's a good opportunity to improve on my shortcomings.
If I overused my right hand like I did during the incident with Balak, even my healthy left hand might suffer aftereffects.
I hope there won't be any significant events soon, but the upcoming event is Michail's awakening, so I can't just stand idly by.
Considering Michail is so talented, he'll probably handle it himself, but because there's always a chance for the unexpected, it seems best to be thoroughly prepared…
But what's the use of worrying about it now?
I stood up and dusted myself off.
***
Before returning to the young lady,
I stopped by the room at the end of the second floor and began to unbutton my sweat-soaked shirt.
The damp shirt clung stickily to my body and was not easy to remove, but the sense of satisfaction from giving my all today was gratifying.
After removing the wet shirt, white bandages wrapped around my arm appeared in the mirror's reflection.
The bandages started from the sleeve of my right arm up to my chest.
I chuckled, thinking of a character from a game I used to play in my past life.
The character, who would cry profusely while searching for a friend – was it Amumu? Anyway, it oddly reminded me of our young lady.
If I had compared the young lady to such a character, she would have denied it and likely thrown a fork at me.
The image of the young lady's forlorn expression from being deprived of chocolates and the game character's face crossed my mind, making me chuckle.
'I'll have to use that later.'
It was a childish prank, but when it came to teasing the young lady, age and such things didn't come to mind.
Was it like aging backward?
"What a madman."
I took a deep breath and slowly unwrapped the bandages.
Starting from the sleeve of my right arm over to the left side of my chest, I unwrapped the sweat-soaked bandages.
Slowly, scars began to reveal themselves.
Scars that looked like burn marks grotesquely distorting the skin of the back and chest, gradually showing the burst-open wounds.
There were scars dotted across my body that would make the young lady run away in disgust.
Especially the wound on my right arm, which was progressing towards black necrosis and weeping pus, was indeed a sight that furrowed the brow.
"It seems… better than yesterday…"
It didn't hurt.
I occasionally felt a stinging pain as the necrosis progressed, but…
No, maybe I had just grown accustomed to it?
After a year of alternating between regeneration and necrosis, the pain had become a familiar experience.
"It really does look revolting."
Looking in the mirror, I entertained a variety of thoughts.
From wondering what I would do if the young lady ran away at the sight of these scars to how I would conceal them in the future.
And what if the necrosis spread to my entire body?
"It's daunting."
The most troubling thought was what to do if the young lady discovered these scars.
If she found out, I couldn't think of an appropriate response at the moment.
Should I just laugh it off?
Or should I just admit it honestly?
Most likely, when the time came, I'd say anything to avoid hurting the lady because she's quite timid.
As I reached for the handle of the wardrobe to take out a new shirt, the memory slowly came back to me of what day today was.
The autumn of September when the maple leaves ripen.
Around this time, the young lady used to always say something to me.
"Happy Birthday."
My birthday had passed by unnoticed last year because the young lady had fallen ill.
I let out a sardonic laugh.
"Right, today is my birthday."
A foolish laughter escaped me.
All this while, unaware and having erroneously thought it was the young lady's magic day.
Now I finally understood why the young lady and the maid had been acting so awkwardly since morning.
Just tell me earlier.
Again, I was the only one out of the loop.
I should quickly go and grumble to the young lady. Complain about why she was the only one who knew.
Given the young lady's nature, once today passed and the clock struck midnight, she would definitely tease me for being a 'fool.'
With that thought, I energetically swung open the wardrobe door.
-Creeeak.
The closet opened easily without resistance.
"Is it broken?"
Normally, there should be a catch in the hinge, but the wardrobe door opened without any resistance as if a slight breeze could blow it open.
I figured it must be broken. No one, apart from the maid, would enter my room.
Thinking it was not a big deal, I reached to get a shirt from the wardrobe when…
"Huh?"
The space where the shirts should have been was completely empty.
-Gasp…
And there, where one should not be, was a person staring back at me with eyes wide open.
"Ah… Miss?"
The young lady, wearing a conical hat on her head and clutching a piece of chocolate cake and a present wrapped in ornate paper to her chest,
"Ah…"
The young lady, with an expression as if her world had crumbled, uttered,
"Ah… if you're hurt…"
Repeating the same phrase foolishly,
"If you're hurt… that's no good…"
I spat out a clumsy lie upon seeing the young lady on the verge of tears.
Hoping she would believe.
"Ah, that… I got it from falling over."
"Don't lie!!!"
This lie, it seemed, was not going to fool the young lady.
*** ***
The young lady was crying.
From her large eyes came tears like a late summer rain, dropping heavily onto the wardrobe floor.
"It's not, not from falling over…!"
Cornered in the small closet, like a drenched mouse, she wept pitifully. I wanted to say something to her, but my lips refused to part.
If I opened my mouth now, I feared I might spew the same lies as before.
The young lady said to me, standing there awkwardly,
"How could this be from falling over…!"
Her doubts poured out just as incessantly as her tears, which resembled chicken droppings. Angrily wiping away the relentless flow of tears with her sleeve, the angry and pitiful lady, smeared with tears and snot, refused to stop as she vented her resentment at me.
Once more, the young lady said to me,
"I'm not a fool to be deceived…"
I knew it too. That the young lady couldn't be fooled by such lies. It was a reflexive excuse I made in shock, and even I wouldn't believe such an obvious lie.
But one thing was certain.
I had revealed the scars I had hidden from the young lady over the past year, and my lie had not deceived her.
"The tattoo you talked about… The one that resembles tree bark…!"
"If you look right here, it does look a bit like a tattoo."
"How could you say that looks like a tattoo! How could anyone think that's a tattoo!"
How could anyone believe a scar so prominent was from falling?
The sight of the crying young lady, in her sparkling party hat, prevented me from looking up at her.
I couldn't think of an excuse.
I hadn't anticipated getting caught like this.
Because I didn't want to be caught.
If I had just a month more time for the resistance to dark magic to build and for the scar on my right hand to fade a little more, perhaps she wouldn't be as shocked as she was now.
Though it was a futile lament, a part of me wished I had been discovered a little later.
The young lady reached out towards my scar-filled right hand.
Her hand trembled like a willow in the wind.
Abandoning her cherished chocolate cake on the floor, she stretched out her hand.
"Don't lie to me… How could a fall cause this…"
Carefully avoiding the advancing young lady's touch, I met her wandering eyes.
"Why… are you avoiding?"
She asked with a shaky voice, concern etched into her voice as if worried she might have hurt me.
"No, it's not that."
"It's because…"
I didn't want to show you.
My hand was dirty from training on a dusty floor for half a day, and if she saw the scars, she might recall the events of that day. Then I would not know what to say to the young lady.
That's why I covered it up with a hollow laugh.
"Why are you laughing…!"
The young lady, filled with exasperation, screamed at me.
Her party hat's tassel shook with every outburst, and though it wasn't scary, her trembling fists showed just how upset she was.
The young lady stated,
"You said it was a tattoo."
"…"
"That you got a tattoo…"
She trailed off.
"But why… why do you keep lying."
I replied to the young lady dispassionately,
"I'm not hurt."
"You're lying."
The irate young lady.
She didn't seem inclined to believe my words.
In frustration, she clenched her fists tightly. It was funny to see someone who told me not to hurt myself clenching her fists.
The young lady, thinking this mockery could not continue any longer, bit her lip and spoke resolutely,
"Give it to me."
"That I cannot do."
"Give me your hand."
She demanded with eyes that refused to concede, but this time I could not play along to the young lady's rhythm.
The young lady furrowed her brow,
She glared at me, cheeks puffed as if she were truly mad, though the threat was belied by her tear-brimmed eyes which made her seem not the least bit angry.
"I'm really fine."
I heard the grinding of her teeth.
"I told you not to lie."
"I'm not lying, I'm telling you what happened."
Crunch.
The young lady's hands turned pale as she clenched the hem of her dress.
"Ricardo. If you keep doing this, I really can't handle it. I just can't…"
The young lady shook her head,
Pleading with me not to lie any more like a child throwing a tantrum in a department store for a toy.
But still, I couldn't grant her request.
"Please… just, please…"
The young lady, feeling suffocated, punched her chest. She was not angry at me for lying but angry at herself for making me lie.
Olivia didn't want to hear any kind words. She didn't want the consolation that it wasn't my fault or that it was unrelated to her. Even if it hurt, she wanted to hear the stinging truth.
But still, she resented Ricardo for continually avoiding her touch.
I dodged the young lady's insistent hands and hid my right hand behind me.
And with a feeble smile, I said,
"I'm really fine."
Picking up a shirt dropped on the floor, I thought of what to say next. A story a bit more believable for the young lady…
Ah.
'There really isn't anything on my mind.'
I had started off all wrong.
Had I started with 'Ouch, I think I'm dying' rather than saying I had fallen, the mood might have been slightly lighter for this conversation.
The young lady clenched her fist and said,
"Lie."
To which I responded,
"I have a disease that makes my nose grow if I tell lies."
"There's no such disease."
"But there is."
"Stop joking. If there was such a disease, Ricardo's nose would already be this high."
The young lady spread her arms wide apart.
How many lies must one be caught in to be told off like that? As a professional fabricator of tales, I felt my pride wounded by the young lady's insinuation and reacted defensively.
"That's not the case. I'm a person of utmost integrity."
"That's a lie too. You said you got a tattoo and that time you promised to buy mountains of chocolate but came back without any."
"I don't recall making such a promise."
Hesitation flashed across the young lady's face, but she quickly gathered her memories of my past offenses and countered,
"And that letter you got from Michail asking how you're doing…"
"…"
"You wrote it, didn't you?"
"Was I discovered? I thought I had imitated his handwriting perfectly."
"Michail's writing does not squirm like worms!"
"As long as it's legible, isn't that enough?!"
"I couldn't recognize it. I only understood it because you translated it for me!"
The young lady's frustration erupted, and she clenched her fists tight. Her tears, which rolled off her cheeks and dampened the wardrobe floor, and her sorrow-filled eyes trembled every time they fell upon my hidden right hand.
I realized I had no talent for deceit.
"So, Ricardo. Why would you do that?"
Faced with the young lady's worried question, I smiled broadly and replied,
"I was hit by someone."
Thump. It was as if I could hear the young lady's heart dropping. Her face turned pale, and her hands trembled.
Stuttering, the young lady asked,
"Who...who hit you?"
"Um…"
I pondered, resting my chin on my hand.
Watching the young lady open and close her fists like a child was somewhat endearing and, given the somewhat relaxed atmosphere, my tension began to ebb away.
"Well, who could it be? If we knew, could the young lady punish them for me?"
The young lady nodded awkwardly.
Armed with determination, she promised the culprit a strict reprimand.
Watching this, I couldn't help but chuckle.
"Young lady."
"Uh…?"
"You hit me."
"…"
The atmosphere turned frosty in an instant. I scrambled for a response as the young lady hung her head morosely, releasing the clenched fists and looking utterly dejected.
"Do you truly believe that?"
"It's true."
"It's a lie, though."
The young lady looked at me.
"Your nose hasn't grown."
"There's no such disease."
"But you said there was, Ricardo."
"…"
Bending over, I lowered myself to the young lady's eye level.
"Young lady, being this gullible will get your liver and gallbladder snatched away."
"Liver? Gallbladder?"
"There are essential things like that for your body."
The young lady looked at me as her eyes swelled with tears.
Her eyes were so swollen that by morning it seemed she'd be crying out weird words instead of booming air raid sirens. Fearing that if she cried any more, she truly would turn me into a blind man, I reached for her cheeks and stretched them out.
"Even if you did hit me, what could we do? It's already happened, hasn't it?"
"But still…"
"You got punished because you deserved it, right?"
The young lady bit her lip.
She couldn't meet my eyes, like someone guilty of stealing cookies, and held back her tears with sniffles.
I pressed on her cheeks like squeezing a goldfish.
"What are you doing?!"
"So unattractive, that look."
The young lady clenched her fist.
At last, she seemed more like herself, and I was relieved.
"Listen, young lady."
I spoke to her in a gentle, quiet voice.
"I'm quite a drama queen. Really."
"When I was a kid, I tried to catch fish with my bare hands in the stream. I fell over on the pebbles and scraped my knee, do you know what I did?"
"What did you do?"
"I cried my eyes out. All night long."
"And remember last time, I got a splinter from swinging a wooden sword and bugged you about it for an entire day?"
The young lady nodded faintly as she choked back tears.
"See. I bear most things well but not pain. Even a tiny wound gets me whining, so if I were truly hurt, wouldn't I tell you?"
I gave a reassuring smile into the young lady's glistening eyes.
"If I'm hurt, I'll say I'm hurt."
The young lady nodded.
"Good."
Then she added,
"But, something about this doesn't seem right."
The young lady bowed her head deeply.
"This isn't right."
Like a penitent criminal, she shook her head and wiped her eyes with her sleeve.
I took a handkerchief from my pocket and handed it to her.
"Why are you crying again, young lady?"
"Sniff. Sniff. No… this is not it…"
Denying it, yet the young lady let the tears flow again.
She said,
"It's not okay to be hurt…"
Staring into space with unfocused eyes,
"Being hurt… really isn't okay…"
Her hand was touching the scars on my body.
