Chapter 127: Even if it’s Sympathy

It was a dawn when the bitterly cold wind raged.

“Huh?”

I muttered blankly, staring ahead.

“P-please help me…”

A small girl stood before me. She was so tiny that she barely reached my waist.

I had woken up early, unable to sleep, and had just been folding Miranda Grandma’s laundry when I heard an urgent knocking at the door. When I stepped outside, there she was—a little girl.

Her condition was dreadful.

Her lips were not only blue but also cracked and bleeding. Her entire body was so thin that her bones were visibly protruding.

Pale complexion, lifeless eyes, and, most of all, dark bruises clearly marking her small body.

They were traces of suffering far too cruel for a child to endure.

“Do… do you need help?”

I slowly bent my knees to meet her eye level. Her gaze was filled with deep wariness.

Yet, despite her fear, she had come here on her own. That meant she had reached a point where she could no longer endure whatever she was facing alone.

“Even if it’s just something cold… could you spare a piece of bread?”

She avoided my gaze as she cautiously asked. Her weak, cracked voice tore at my heart.

“If not… I’ll leave.”

There was no hesitation in her voice. As if she was already used to rejection, her tone carried an air of resignation.

Seeing her like that, I instinctively reached out.

Before she could leave, I grabbed her hand in a hurry, but she flinched in terror and yanked her hand away forcefully. Her eyes were filled with fear, and her wariness deepened even further.

‘That was too rash.’

Children like her shouldn’t be touched so suddenly.

“I’m sorry.”

“As an apology, would you allow me to offer you a warm meal?”

I softened my voice as much as possible to ease her tension.

She hesitated for a long time at the doorstep. Then, at last, she gave a small, timid nod.

Just as she mustered the courage to step inside—

“Hey, where are your parents?”

Miranda Grandma, whom I had thought was asleep, was suddenly standing behind me.

The girl flinched and took a step back as soon as she saw Grandma’s large, sturdy frame. To her, Miranda Grandma must have looked quite intimidating.

“S-sorry. I’ll go now.”

She turned and ran away as if fleeing.

All I could do was stare blankly at her small figure growing distant.

“Grandma! Why did you scare her like that?!”

“Excuse me? This is my house, you know.”

Miranda Grandma looked at me with an incredulous expression.

“Didn’t you see how thin she was? How could you do that to a starving child?!”

“All I did was ask where her parents were. What’s so wrong about that?”

“I’m going to bring her back. I can’t just let her leave like that.”

At the very least, I needed to give her a proper meal.

“There’s no need for that.”

But Miranda Grandma’s response was cold.

“Grandmother, really! Aren’t you supposed to be a saint? How could you let a child go hungry…?!”

“No need to go out and search.”

Grandmother Miranda nonchalantly pointed her finger in one direction.

Where her fingertip led, the girl from earlier was peeking out from behind a tree, secretly watching us.

Awkwardly hesitating, she slowly stepped forward. Then, glancing up at me, she blushed.

“Can you… give me some food, sister…?”

Without hesitation, I answered.

“Of course!”

It felt as if I had been chosen by a stray cat.

“A war orphan, huh.”

Miranda muttered indifferently, watching the child devour the potato soup I had made, despite the wariness still in her eyes.

It wasn’t something to be said in front of the child, but she showed no reaction to the term war orphan. As if she had already grown accustomed to it.

The girl, with light brown hair and brown eyes, was named Luella. She was a citizen of the fallen Kingdom of Kaladwen.

Her father had died in the war, and her mother, in search of his body, had met the same cold fate.

Drifting along the front lines, barely surviving day by day, Luella had finally arrived in this village of Rahel.

“Well, it’s not uncommon for war orphans to wander around here.”

Miranda nodded as if she had seen it too many times before. To her, it was nothing unusual.

But my heart felt different. A deep sorrow and pity settled heavily within me.

A war orphan.

Just hearing the words was enough to be unbearable. For a child not even ten years old, it was an impossibly heavy burden to bear.

“Do you have anywhere to go…?”

I asked carefully, but as expected, the answer was negative.

“…No.”

That single word carried the weight of her entire situation.

“Come by from time to time. I’ll feed you.”

Miranda said, as if doing a small favor. But would that really be enough to improve this child’s circumstances?

She had nowhere to return to. This place, once the front lines, was in utter disorder.

In a world where anything could happen at any moment, could she truly find happiness just by barely scraping by?

“…Thank you.”

The quiet words that left the child’s lips felt heavier than they should have. That one small word of gratitude crushed my heart even further.

“Grandmother Miranda.”

Clutching her hand, I held onto a faint hope in my heart. But she already knew what I was about to say and firmly shook her head.

“No.”

“You haven’t even heard me out yet…”

“It’s obvious. You want to take that little one in, don’t you?”

As expected, she could read me like a book.

In response to my silent affirmation, Grandma Miranda let out a deep sigh.

“Come outside for a moment.”

After serving the child another bowl of soup, I followed Grandma Miranda outside.

Leaning against the wall, she scratched her head.

“I told you before, I have no intention of raising a child like that.”

“But they’re just a kid. They don’t eat much. If you’re worried about the cost of taking care of them, you can deduct it from my wages.”

“It’s not about money. I simply don’t like raising anyone.”

“…But you took me in and raised me.”

“That was only because I owed that noblewoman a debt. If it weren’t for her request, I wouldn’t have taken you in either.”

Her words stung a little, but knowing Grandma Miranda’s personality, it wasn’t surprising. She had always been blunt— honest, even in her indifference.

“Still, sending that child back out like this is far too dangerous.”

“They could be dead by tomorrow.”

“You… You know that, and yet you’d still send them away?”

“Kid, do you have any idea how many war orphans exist on this continent?”

Caught off guard by the sudden question, I couldn’t answer right away.

“It’s tragic, yes. But thinking you can take in someone just because you pity them—that’s naive. If another war orphan comes along next time, will you take them in as well?”

“But still…”

“If you truly care about that child, then go open an orphanage someday.”

Grandma Miranda wasn’t wrong. I knew that.

I understood that my feelings for the child were ultimately just sympathy.

To others, I probably looked like a hypocrite—someone who simply couldn’t walk past something pitiful.

But even so, ignoring that child right in front of me didn’t feel right.

So what if it was just sympathy?

To that child, it wouldn’t matter whether my feelings were pity or hypocrisy.

All they needed was a warm meal and a safe place to stay.

“You think this is just meaningless sympathy, don’t you, Grandma Miranda?”

“It’s not that I don’t understand. But if you can’t take full responsibility, all you’ll do is give them false hope.”

“So what if it’s false hope?”

“…What?”

“Because of my ‘false hope,’ that child gets to live for one more day.”

“And what happens when you’re not around?”

“Maybe someone else, someone with the same kind of sympathy, will come along.

Maybe they’ll keep passing that child forward, one day at a time.”

“Even if it’s hypocrisy, I’ll still hand that child a piece of bread. If what you say is true, then all the goodness in this world stems from pity anyway.”

And it wasn’t just about that child.

Anyone I could help, I would—without hesitation.

Because that was the only way I knew how to atone.

In my past life, I longed for my mother’s love.

I didn’t care if it was sympathy, mockery, or even contempt.

As long as she smiled at me, I felt as if I owned the whole world.

Perhaps this child felt the same way.

What others dismissed as mere pity—

To this child, it could be something precious.

Something like happiness.

“If Grandma Miranda says no, I’ll take the child to my mansion and take care of them.”

I had more than enough wealth to raise a single child. No, according to Grandma Miranda, I could probably afford to open an orphanage if I wanted to.

“Heh. You’ve gotten quite bold over the past few months.”

Grandma Miranda frowned in annoyance and scratched her head.

I knew I was being stubborn. But there was no way I could just leave that child in such a state.

“You know there’s no spare room, right? Whether you let them sleep in the living room or outside, that’s your decision.”

At last, words of approval came from Grandma Miranda’s mouth.

“Y-Yes…!”

“You’ll also be responsible for feeding and bathing them. That child reeked of rot when I saw them earlier.”

“O-Of course! I’ll do my best.”

I clenched my fists tightly in determination.

Perhaps the reason I was going this far was because I didn’t want anyone else to turn out like me—a person who had once walked a dark path.

“And one more thing.”

I silently waited for Grandma Miranda’s next words.

“Get your mother’s permission. Her opinion matters the most.”

“…What?”

“And inform that noble lady as well.”

It seemed I had to return to the Empire tomorrow after all.