Chapter 174: Rustling

Яҽаｄ о​η ΚαṫЯｅａԁｉոɡＣα​ϝ​ė

Translator Note

Hi hi! As usual just here to clarify the pronouns with Ian/Ianne thing, it may be a bit weird but I tried to make it flow as best as possible. When a phrase is specifically something Leon is noticing or thinking, it will be he/him, when it is describing something Ian/Ianne is actually doing or is, it will be She/Her. If it’s kind of ambiguous it will be they/them.

“I tried to apologize. I clearly made an attempt.”

In front of Ione’s room.

Sugar stood awkwardly, hands clasped over her stomach, while Ian spoke calmly.

*****

‘Big sis… If your fever’s gone down a bit, can we talk? There’s something I want to discuss about what happened that day…’

—Swish.

‘Big sis?’

—Swish.

‘Why do you keep turning your face away?’

—Swish.

‘… You don’t want to talk to me?’

—Nod nod. Swish.

‘…’

…

“—How are we supposed to make up like this?”

“Aah…”

She was impossible.

*****

Now Sugar understood why Ian had looked so displeased.

She’s sulking.

Sugar, who was in charge of today’s reconciliation efforts, let out a sigh.

“I’ll go talk to her.”

This time, she’d be serious. No jokes, just sincerity.

Burning with determination, Sugar stepped back into the inner room.

“Lady Ione.”

Immediately, she spotted a cocoon on the bed—the saintess, buried under a blanket.

She tried speaking to her warmly.

“Won’t you talk with me?”

Peek. A face emerged from the blanket, only to disappear again.

‘She doesn’t want to talk to me either, huh.’

Well, things had gotten messy because of Sugar’s advice this time. But she wasn’t one to back down.

“Ione. Please tell me what’s on your mind. If you don’t say it, I won’t know.”

She stroked the blanket gently as she spoke.

“I’m sorry for giving you such unconventional advice. It was my fault. I hope you can feel better.”

“…”

“I’m always so grateful to you, Ione. Hm? You took Riley and me into this land… You’re truly a merciful person.”

A girl with an unusual constitution, hunted by heretics, and a boy carrying a wicked grimoire—beings who would be scorned and shunned if the world ever found out. Yet, thanks to the saintess’s silent approval, they were allowed to stay in this holy land.

“Please, let me help you, Saintess.”

With heartfelt gratitude from childhood, she spoke softly, stroking the blanket.

“I want to ease your troubled heart.”

The blanket slid down.

And though Ione’s face was still half-hidden, her willingness to talk was clear.

“Heh. You finally came out.”

Sugar beamed at her brightly.

“Why didn’t you want to talk to your little sister?”

The real conversation began.

“… I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?”

“Me.”

“You mean… you’re sorry for existing?”

—Nod nod.

It was a heavier burden than expected.

She was someone who kept silent but carried many thoughts. Even as a child, she had been like this—when asked why she wouldn’t confide in Ianne, she’d shut her mouth, saying it was better to say nothing if the truth would only be twisted.

As Sugar quietly reflected on those times, Ione continued.

“I’m not… worthy of respect. I’m lacking.”

Ah.

She understood immediately.

“You wanted to show her what a proper big sis should be like?”

—Nod nod.

“And as the saintess, too. You wanted to show her a dignified, saintly image… but you made a mistake, and that’s why you’re upset.”

Her voice trembled slightly as she spoke.

A sense of duty. Responsibility. Wasn’t this all too familiar?

‘This person and I… we’re alike.’

She had struggled with something similar long ago. Their outward appearances were completely different, but their inner turmoil felt the same.

Sugar took a deep breath.

There was no grand solution. These kinds of struggles ultimately depended on one’s own resolve.

But she wasn’t sure if she should say this. It pricked at her conscience. She hadn’t expected to be the one saying it

“Ione. Sometimes, you should step out of your role.”

A piece of advice—wrapped in concern, yet sharp enough to prick at her own conscience.

“It’s okay to ignore your sense of duty, just a little. If you try to shoulder too much responsibility, you’ll collapse under the weight.”

After speaking, she bit her lip lightly.

“…Some responsibilities shouldn’t be ignored, but if you carry too many, they’ll crush you. I can’t even begin to imagine the weight of the duties you bear daily… But Ianne isn’t the type to demand perfection from you. You don’t have to push yourself so hard.”

“…”

“Even if you make mistakes, even if you fail to act like an older sister should, even if you fight… No matter what happens, Ianne will—”

The words caught in her throat.

“No matter what happens…”

Her hands, hidden behind her back, trembled slightly.

“She’ll… She’ll accept you as you are. You know that, don’t you?”

It felt like she was chipping away at her own role with her own hands.

Even if she tried to smile, it wouldn’t come easily.

This was a kind of guilt.

Her lips, still warm from earlier, tingled. Was it okay for someone like her—someone who had abandoned her role and indulged in reckless pleasure—to spout such words so self-righteously?

‘…But it’s not entirely wrong.’

Responsibility. Duty. The suffocating pressure of a role. It would crush her if she let it.

The more she spoke, the more it felt like she was hammering at herself—yet at the same time, there was a desperate desire to be understood.

These were words she had projected onto Ione, but they were her own.

All she had to do was change the subject. Ione to Sugar, Ian to Riley.

She wanted to cast off her guilt. So she voiced thoughts she’d long harbored under the guise of giving advice.

Because the feelings she held for her childhood friend, the desires she nurtured, were slowly spiraling out of control.

And lately, that spiral was accelerating.

She had sworn to herself—pretend not to notice, for his sake. Terrified that the depth of her emotions might drown him, she had hidden behind her “role.”

The role of an older sister. A friend. Family. But now, she was trying to break free of it.

The crack that had started with a kiss was widening.

Even as she secretly wished someone would stop her, a faint thought whispered—Would it really be so bad?

This duality. The torment of not knowing which choice was right, the fear of change.

‘…What would you think of me if you knew?’

As Sugar agonized, the woman before her—similarly trapped by her own role—nodded quietly in understanding.

She accepted the idea that it was okay, just a little, to set aside duty and be honest.

Sugar covered her face with her hands.

“?”

While Ione tilted her head in confusion, Sugar lowered her hands—revealing a clumsy, fragile smile.

“Hehe… Good. Then let’s go make up right away.”

Instead of answering, Ione gently ruffled Sugar’s white hair.

It made her grateful.

And unbearably embarrassed.

***************

The sound of bubbling water filled the room where Leon stayed.

Without professional equipment, he couldn’t brew high-grade medicine, but what he was making now was simple—a basic infusion, more than sufficient.

First, he placed clear water over the fire. Then began preparing the herbs.

Siltgrass was soaked in cold water first, while dried Ground mouse tail was ground into powder.

Clearbloom petals were plucked, washed, then lightly toasted over the flame to remove their bitterness. Normally, the tea would be intensely bitter, but this method sweetened it—his own unique touch.

For added effect, he tossed in Amand flowers and Rosiola seeds to enhance the soothing properties.

Once the ingredients were prepped, he placed them in a clean mesh pouch and steeped them in boiling water for thirty minutes.

When the sweet-medicinal aroma began to rise, he lowered the heat and let it simmer for another half-hour.

Finally, he turned off the flame and poured the contents into a pre-warmed flask.

“The medicine’s done…”

Now, it was time to prepare to go out. Technically, he’d already been out today—but this trip was special. He was visiting a dear friend.

He had to look presentable.

Leon changed out of his herb-scented clothes, donned fresh ones, and fastened his Steele cloak—a mark of his identity as a mage.

Ready, he stepped out of his lodgings (a borrowed room in the Grand Temple) and into the open air.

The first thing that caught his eye was the spire—the residence of the Saint’s bloodline. His footsteps carried him there.

…

“You’re here.”

Ian, their face weary, greeted him. The interior was silent—even more so than he remembered from his last visit. The attending priestesses moved without a sound, so Leon instinctively rose onto his toes, stepping lightly.

“You don’t have to be so cautious.”

Ian laughed as she said it.

Their smile. The exhaustion hidden beneath it. Leon, momentarily dazed, fidgeted with the bag in his hands.

“H-Have you reconciled yet?”

“Hm?”

“With the Saintess…”

“Ah… Don’t worry about that.”

Ian answered slowly, her voice soft.

Since Sugar and Ione were currently talking…

Ione had always been someone who listened well to Sugar. She’d probably calm down from her sulking soon.

With that thought, Leon held out a bottle from his bag to Ian.

“Ian. Could you… give this to the Saintess?”

“What is it?”

“A homemade cough remedy.”

“…Medicine?”

“Yes. I’m sure there are excellent apothecaries in the Holy City… but this is a recipe approved by the healers from my hometown. If her coughing fits don’t stop, please have her take this.”

Ian accepted it blankly, but confusion flickered in her eyes.

She hadn’t told him. She’d never mentioned to Leon that Ione had collapsed.

It was classified. The fact that the Saintess—the very symbol of the Holy City’s safety—was unwell couldn’t be spread around. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Leon. Some secrets were just too heavy to share casually.

‘Did Sugar tell him?’

As she stood bewildered, Leon added quietly:

“It’s just… After the incident at the Grand Temple that day, I heard the Saintess coughing behind me on the way back.”

“…”

“A deep sound. Almost like a spasm. It didn’t sound like an ordinary cough, so… I worried. I made this just in case.”

“Ah…”

So even after everything that had happened, his concern for the Saintess had driven him to personally brew medicine.

From just a few symptoms, he’d guessed—and worried for her family?

Ian’s expression twisted.

“Leon, you’re really…”

“Ian?”

“…Really kind. Thank you.”

Her voice wavered, as if unsure how to convey both gratitude and guilt. The smile from earlier was gone.

“N-No, it’s nothing. Once you know the method, it’s easy to make. There’s no need for such thanks.”

“It’s not just the medicine… Honestly, after that first meeting, how could you not hold a grudge? Yet you still went out of your way to prepare this… Sigh…”

“Ah… I think there’s a slight misunderstanding.”

“Misunderstanding? What misunderstanding?”

“I didn’t actually resent what happened that day. If anything, I felt guilty.”

Ian tilted her head—a habit she’d picked up from Ione after spending days together.

“If I hadn’t panicked and stopped to talk, or if I’d approached the Saintess more calmly and sincerely… Then you wouldn’t have had to raise your voice, and there wouldn’t have been friction between you two. I’m sorry my inexperience escalated things.”

As he meticulously laid out his reasoning, Ian blinked rapidly—then sighed.

“Leon… You really need to take after Sugar a little.”

“Ugh. No thanks.”

“You should learn to be shameless and blame others sometimes… Wait, no—when it’s clearly someone else’s fault, why are you taking the blame?”

“I do have my shameless side. I refuse to do things I hate. You know that, Ian.”

The days he’d spent fixated on his staff. The feelings he’d poured out to Ian, who had comforted him through all of it.

Ian was truly kind. Noble.

Leon smiled faintly.

Ian, in turn, laughed and took his hand.

“…I really think you’re amazing.”

“I haven’t done anything. Even if I accept the staff, I won’t do things I dislike. Nothing will change from how I’ve always been.”

“That’s exactly what I like.”

She declared it playfully, hugging the thermos to her chest while leading him by the hand.

His hand was soft. Could it even be called a man’s hand?

Leon glanced down at their joined hands, then up at Ian’s back as they walked a step ahead on the stairs.

It suited Ian’s essence.

No matter how humbly Ian lowered himself to match his friends, his true nature was that of someone standing at the heavens’ edge.

He lived in the Holy City’s tallest spire, commanded countless priests, and with a single gesture, all would follow his word.

Whatever secret he was hiding—it changed nothing.

Someone as lowly as him could only stare up in awe.

Who would dare approach the sun? It was enough to simply bask in its light from below.

“Ah! I forgot to mention—we’re leaving for Zenrock City tomorrow evening.”

“Huh…?”

“Travel time, preparations… It’s better to go early. Sorry for the late notice. But don’t worry, I’ve arranged the carriage and travel expenses!”

She announced their departure the day before with shameless cheer.

The uncharacteristic boldness reminded Leon so much of someone that he fell silent. Ian’s shoulders slumped.

“Um… Are you upset?”

“…”

“Sorry… I was trying to imitate Sugar…”

A laugh escaped him.

“It’s fine. A prank this mild hardly counts.”

“Ahaha…”

“It was cute.”

“Haha… Wait, what?”

He said it offhandedly and continued walking without pause.

Ian, too, kept moving forward—but didn’t turn around, ensuring Leon couldn’t see her face.

That face was now bright red.

Cute?

Had she just heard that correctly?

She must have heard it.

There was no mistaking it.

As her palms grew clammy—

The eve of their journey passed in restless anticipation.