Ch.69Looking at Myself in the Bathroom Mirror

Frider grumbled for a while, cursing Perneisia, while Kalix tried to console him and halfheartedly defended her.

Though it wasn’t really a defense… more like explaining that fairies were just that kind of race, and getting angry would only hurt himself, so he should just let it go.

I finished exchanging pleasantries with them and we parted ways.

It would have been awkward to keep standing in front of the building entrance anyway.

Before leaving, I didn’t forget to ask Asha for a new black iron armor. A shawl, skirt, and armor pieces for my arms, legs, and chest.

My previous armor had been shattered to pieces.

…And I had just spent good money getting it repaired not long ago.

I asked her to make the chest piece just large enough to cover my chest area, not a full-sized armor covering the entire upper body.

If it covered my abdomen too, it would restrict my movement too much and interfere with my fighting style.

She said she could do it for 80 gold, so I asked if I could pay in installments over two months.

I needed to keep some money for living expenses after all.

Fortunately, perhaps because we’d become closer, Asha gladly accepted my request for a two-month interest-free installment plan.

—-

“Come to think of it, Nigel, isn’t your armor quite damaged too? You should get that repaired as well.”

“Ah, I’ve already ordered mine. As a knight of Landenburg, I can have military supplies covered by public funds just by submitting paperwork.”

“Now that’s something to be envious of.”

I chatted with Nigel as we went up to my room.

The staff must have been maintaining it, as the room was spotless without a speck of dust, just as before.

I put down the weapons I’d brought from the hospital in the corner and headed straight for the desk.

I’d been waiting for this moment.

With trembling hands, I took out a cigarette—my first in almost a month—and lit it.

Then I inhaled deeply, very deeply.

Filling my lungs completely, to the point where it overflowed and burst out.

My mind cleared as the burning mint scent filled the room.

A cool, sharp sensation traveled through my blood vessels to my fingertips.

Yes, this is it.

I really missed this feeling.

The room quickly filled with hazy smoke.

I opened the window to let the smoke escape while continuing to chain-smoke.

Until the ashtray was full.

By the time I was starting on my second pack, Nigel was staring at me intently.

With an expression similar to a woman who had encountered a man relieving himself on the street.

…Still, she refrained from saying anything, which I suppose was her way of being understanding.

Thankfully, the cigarettes here don’t contain harmful substances.

If they did, I wouldn’t have had any excuse if someone tried to stop me.

—-

Afterward, I went to the bathroom to wash up and get ready for bed.

I hadn’t been able to properly bathe while at the infirmary.

They said it was difficult to secure enough water for bathing since there were quite a few patients besides me.

When I lifted my arm and sniffed, I could definitely smell that strong body odor.

I had wiped myself down with wet towels, but there was only so much that could do.

The mint scent of the mana herbs I’d been smoking like a smoked dish at least partially masked the body odor.

While waiting for the tub to fill, I threw off the wretched patient gown I’d been wearing.

I had been wearing this patient gown the entire time—during the carriage ride back and while standing in front of the special building’s entrance.

My original clothes had been soaked with all sorts of filth including blood, sweat, and ash, and were torn to shreds, unusable even as rags.

Fortunately, I had bought plenty of clothes before, so I could wear those now.

Somehow I seem to discard clothes every time I fight…

Is this the fate of a warrior? To treat even clothing as consumables.

I tossed the patient gown into the basket and sat on the edge of the tub for a while.

Then suddenly, my eyes met my reflection in the mirror.

…Come to think of it, it had been a month since I last looked in a mirror.

How should I put this?

A woman I’d never seen before was staring back at me.

Perhaps because I hadn’t been exposed to sunlight for so long, my face was pale white.

Eyes with a forlorn, unfocused gaze, and slightly darkened eye area from exhaustion.

Slightly sunken cheeks that made me look gaunt.

Even my hair hung limply, clinging pitifully to my head.

…Who are you?

Where did the sharp-eyed female warrior disappear to?

In the mirror, only a sickly, exhausted-looking beauty stared back at me with a bewildered expression.

This is bad.

—-

That night, I dreamed of Demian.

Demian, who had become a hero, finally saved the world and was getting married to his lover who had been waiting for him, in a church ceremony.

Many guests were applauding them… all familiar faces.

Kalix and Edgar nodded with satisfaction, while Asha, Frider, and Lena were smiling.

Ophelia was biting her handkerchief, shedding tears of frustration.

Lord Ludwig of Landenburg, dressed in priest’s robes, was officiating the ceremony.

As Demian approached the bride, she gently lifted her veil and blushed shyly.

Hair flowed out from behind the veil.

Damn it, it wasn’t green hair.

Black. Yes, it was black. What a crazy dream.

“Do you swear before the Lord to love each other eternally?”

“I do!”

Demian answered spiritedly.

The woman in the white dress responded by shyly opening her mouth.

This is a nightmare. I need to wake up.

– BOOM!

At that moment, the doors of the chapel exploded open.

“I object to this marriage!!”

…It was Knut again.

Seriously, what is this?

“I object too!!”

A thunderous shout echoed through the air.

With a deafening sound, someone crashed through the ceiling of the chapel.

It was Orhan, wearing only pants.

And so, the three of them began fighting, entangled with each other.

The sight was so dizzying that I lost consciousness.

Even though it was just a dream.

—-

Morning came.

“……”

As soon as I woke up, I took out another cigarette. I couldn’t bear it without smoking.

I feel like I’m going crazy. What’s wrong with me these days?

Wouldn’t it be better to dream about the dead instead?

…I should definitely think of a countermeasure.

It’s chilling to think I might end up dreaming about raising children next.

I sit at my desk, puffing out smoke while pondering.

Classes hadn’t resumed yet, so I didn’t have anything else to do today.

Right. As terrible as it is, let’s assume there’s some insane nobleman who’s… yes, courting me.

How should I respond?

I’d like to handle it like Asha does, but if I did something like that without proper justification outside of a duel, the aftermath would be quite troublesome.

Roughly running my fingers through my hair, I continue my train of thought.

First, let’s categorize the enemies.

If you know your enemy and know yourself, you can win every battle.

First, those who will listen to reason.

In this case, I can simply reject them. These are the least problematic ones if I can endure the discomfort.

I just need to think about what words to use for rejection.

Second, those who won’t listen to reason and will resort to underhanded tactics. Among them, those I can deal with without major consequences.

While confronting them openly might be problematic, I could ambush them.

Clear enemies.

Among the imperial nobles, there are quite a few who are barely human in their vileness.

Considering the future, they might be better off eliminated.

I said I would protect people, but that never meant protecting such individuals.

Third, those who use underhanded tactics but are too powerful to touch. Like high nobles or imperial family members.

Surely individuals of that caliber wouldn’t fixate on me… but just in case.

This case is the most troublesome. I have no way to handle it myself.

Perhaps I should ask Lord Ludwig for help…

Or should I just eliminate any merit in approaching me?

This method might be quite effective, but going too far could cause problems.

It would be troublesome if the Empire considered me an uncontrollable individual.

Keeping within certain boundaries would be important.

Let’s skip appearance since there’s nothing I can do about it. I’ll just have to wait for recovery.

So then…

I continue to ponder and formulate plans.

Even though I won’t know what variables might arise until I actually experience it, it’s better to think of countermeasures in advance.

And three days later, Lord Ludwig finally came to visit.

—-

Lord Ludwig’s appearance after several months was unchanged.

Navy blue uniform with a coat. Even the mana herb in his mouth. Just like before.

The lord opened his mouth in surprise upon seeing my face and let out a soft exclamation.

Don’t admire me. It’s irritating.

Nigel saluted the lord respectfully, then set down refreshments from the dining hall and left us alone.

“It’s been a while. Your countenance has become, how should I put it… not exactly radiant… yes, pitiable.”

He starts with unpleasant words right away.

Pitiable—I never thought that word would be used to describe me.

“That’s an unpleasant thing to say right off the bat. I’m already worried about men clinging to me because of this.”

“Oh? You dislike that kind of attention? But you’ll need to find a spouse someday.”

The lord, sitting on the reception sofa, tapped ash from his mana herb into the ashtray.

His slightly furrowed brow suggested a somewhat perplexed expression.

“Not until dirt fills my eyes.”

And not even then. A spouse? The very thought is horrifying.

Men are mentally exhausting, and in this state, I don’t feel anything even when I look at women, so it’s impossible from the start.

I’ll live as a single person for life. I’ve already decided that.

“Hmm… would you feel the same if the person were of high status? Say, a member of the imperial family?”

He’s persistent. And strangely specific.

…He hasn’t set up some scheme involving me, has he?

I felt a bit uneasy.

I really hope not. If a member of the imperial family and the lord are working together, there’s no way I could handle it.

“Even if it were the Emperor himself, I’d feel the same, so I’d appreciate not having to repeat myself.”

“If your resolve is that firm… well, I suppose there’s nothing to be done. I understand.”

The lord inhaled smoke again.

Whether he accepted my answer, gave up, or was just trying to move past the topic, his attitude was unclear.

“Then, let’s get to the main point.”

“Yes, you said you had something to tell me about the imperial family. And that you had other important matters to discuss. This works out well. I had something I wanted to ask too.”

“Something you wanted to ask… Well, as a guest, I should first answer the host’s questions. Go ahead. I’ll answer if I can.”

It seems considerate, but he’s basically telling me to speak first.

His attitude remained cryptic to the end.

It’s as if he might subtly change what he originally intended to tell me depending on my question.

Am I being too suspicious?

Well, it doesn’t matter. Whatever his intentions, I already knew what I wanted to ask.

So let’s hear his answer.

“My mother, Imelia de Median. You knew about her, didn’t you?”

Yes, answer me.

Ludwig.