episode_0016

Firnea stretched and flopped onto the bed.

“Am I not your disciple anymore?”

“My apologies, my lady. This time, I have business to attend to.”

“What is it?”

“It’s about the Academy.”

“…”

Firnea sat up, her expression slightly more serious.

“So they’ve come.”

“Yes. The notice…”

“Let me say this upfront—I’m going. Even if it’s dangerous.”

“…”

The reason discussing the Academy was dangerous—

—was because it was obvious that the one who assassinated Pitus wouldn’t leave Firnea alone.

Until now, she had handled everything within the estate.

Given that the estate was nearly the size of four cities, it wasn’t stifling, but stepping outside meant not knowing what kind of malice might reach her.

“But I’ll still go. Connections are the most important thing… Isn’t that what the Virdem family always said?”

“As you say, my lady.”

“And I don’t want to live my life cowering in fear, locked away forever because of scum like that. It’s the opposite. They should be the ones afraid of me.”

Firnea declared with a confidence devoid of arrogance or anger.

In truth, she had steadily built her strength over time. It was simply a calculated decision.

Now, she was confident she could crush anything that came her way.

McClain wiped his eyes at the sight of her, so reminiscent of Duke Pitus’s bloodline.

“Ah, my lady… If His Grace could see you now, surely…”

“Stop it, that’s embarrassing.”

Firnea laughed, soothing McClain, then turned to me.

“Since that’s settled, take care of me at the Academy too, Virdem.”

“Ah, I can’t go.”

“…Huh?”

Firnea froze at those words.

McClain, who had been desperately wiping his tears with a handkerchief, added an explanation.

“Servants aren’t allowed inside the Academy. They could be used for cheating or smuggling, and it’s impossible to monitor every servant. Even a butler is considered a servant, so it’s not permitted.”

“Ah, is that so?”

Firnea nodded cheerfully, as if accepting it—

“Then I’m not going.”

“…My lady?”

“Not going.”

She answered with an even brighter smile.

“I’d rather die than go.”

“Um, my lady?”

—Bang

“May I come in?”

—Bang

“Sigh…”

Late at night.

I let out a sigh and leaned my head against the office door.

The lady wasn’t smashing something—she was working.

As the future head of the household, she had been assigned various tasks by McClain to learn.

They were all mind-numbingly tedious jobs, the kind a spirited girl like Firnea would despise…

Yet she did them without complaint, saying it was her duty.

…Suddenly, I remembered the first time I saw Firnea.

That child who secretly held grudges against the vassals, who couldn’t care less about others’ feelings, who grew bored of anything uninteresting.

She had grown so admirably, channeling her frustrations into work instead of lashing out.

Despite the situation, a small smile crept onto my face.

Somehow, I wondered if this was what it felt like to raise a daughter.

“Ahem, my lady.”

—Bang

“Now that I think about it, you haven’t received my gift yet.”

—…

The sound of stamping stopped.

“I wanted to give it to you before today ended… but I suppose it can’t be helped. What a shame. I’ll give it to you next time. Once you finish your work, get some proper rest.”

I turned on my heel and began counting silently in my head as I walked away.

One step.

Two steps.

And three steps.

…Click.

The unmistakable sound of a door opening reached my ears.

Stifling a laugh, I opened the door.

“Pardon the intrusion, my lady.”

“…”

Firnea sat pouting in her pajamas, still working.

But she wasn’t doing it half-heartedly—she even wore small glasses, carefully examining each document before stamping it.

As I waited, a dejected voice reached me.

“The Academy… is six years.”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“You’re leaving me alone for six years? You promised to stay with me until the revenge was complete.”

“Of course, I have no intention of breaking my word. I’ll visit the Academy every day.”

“…There’s no way you can be that shameless. You have your own work too.”

“It’s no trouble. Being with you is my top priority. Ah, happy birthday.”

I took out a box I had been keeping in my coat and handed it to her.

Firnea pretended not to care, lifting it with telekinesis before skillfully unwrapping it.

…Come to think of it, that’s not how that magic is supposed to be used.

Inside the box was a pendant—one I could proudly say was beautifully crafted.

“This is…”

Firnea’s eyes widened as she examined the pendant.

It wasn’t the beauty that captivated her. She had seen and worn thousands of luxury items, after all.

Her gaze was fixed on the fragment of a heart embedded in the center, the flawless mana infusion, and the magic circles engraved smaller than grains of rice.

No mage could fail to recognize the value of this pendant.

“Virdem, this… is that?”

“Yes, it is.”

Something we obtained together—well, more accurately, something McClain bought and kept.

A magical artifact shaped like a pendant, crafted using the pinnacle of dwarven enchantment techniques, embedded with a fragment of a heart.

A treasure nearing the level of an artifact, capable of nearly doubling the power of all magic.

Staring at what should have been a relic locked away in the imperial vault, Firnea covered her mouth in genuine shock.

“H-How did you make this? A legendary magical artifact like this?!”

“You were right before, my lady. I do have a bit of a knack for craftsmanship.”

Firnea trembled as she stared at the pendant—

—then clutched it tightly to her chest.

I couldn’t begin to imagine the expression or emotions hidden beneath her bowed head.

“…Thank you. This is the best gift I’ve received today.”

“Thank you, my lady.”

Her words warmed my heart, and a smile naturally formed.

Firnea looked at me, then suddenly flushed red and buried her face deeper.

“…My lady?”

When I approached worriedly, she shook her head vigorously, as if snapping out of it, then suddenly made a face.

The face she made when she’d resolved herself to something.

“…Ah, I still can’t do it. I don’t want to go to the Academy without you.”

“If the Academy doesn’t appeal to you, there’s no need to go. I think—”

“No, I’ll go. For Father’s sake, I have to.”

Firnea shook her head and declared:

“But you’re coming with me.”

“…Huh?”

“You’re coming too.”

I laughed, thinking it was a joke.

…Until I saw the unwavering determination in her eyes—the same look she had at ten years old when she ordered me to catch a lion.

A small northern mansion, dinnertime.

“Unnie, what are you doing?”

Leah looked at her sister with a mix of pity and concern.

Armenia, with a dazed expression, was slicing meat, slicing it again, and continuing the bizarre act of liquefying a steak into something beyond minced meat.

Leah finally spoke up when it reached a state one step past ground-meat visual.

She had no choice. Experience had taught her that interrupting Armenia in this state led to extremely troublesome outcomes.

Armenia answered blankly:

“…Leah, you know, six years ago, when Duke Pitus was assassinated and passed away…”

“Yeah.”

“Back then… something about a ‘variable’ popped up, right?”

“Huh?”

“Is that why? But I didn’t do anything to the Seliratus family… Could it be the butterfly effect? No, how could such a bizarre butterfly effect… It’s fine, right? Right?”

…Leah, who hadn’t understood a word past the first sentence, sighed at her sister’s predictably incomprehensible behavior.

Armenia was strange.

From birth until now, she acted so crudely that it was hard to believe she’d received noble upbringing, earning her the disdain of those around her.

But at the same time, no one in the family dared treat her lightly.

There was one reason:

She possessed unbelievably good luck.

She traveled almost every month and returned laden with elixirs so rare that even the family’s entire fortune couldn’t buy them.

When asked for details, she spouted nonsense no one could decipher—not even her own family, who had lived with her their whole lives.

So the family treated Armenia with the utmost care, like raising a pig trained to hunt truffles.

“Unnie, take a break today. Skip training.”

“…Ah, right. It’s probably nothing. It can’t be… Ugh, how did I mess up the settings…”

Armenia pinched Leah’s cheeks relentlessly.

Leah resisted fiercely as she dragged Armenia to her bedroom.

Then, as if remembering something, Armenia took out a small box from the table.

“Ah, right. Leah, want to eat this?”

“…Unnie, I told you I don’t need any more elixirs or potions.”

Leah refused with disgust.

From infancy until now, over 80% of the elixirs Armenia brought from who-knows-where had ended up in Leah’s mouth.

Other nobles would foam at the mouth if they knew, but she hated it. Most tasted bitter or awful, and after taking them, her body would burn up, leaving her immobile for a week.

Afterward, she did feel stronger… but what was the point of that strength?

Leah didn’t care for her family’s praise or making opponents bleed in sparring. She didn’t even want to be strong.

Her secret wish, hidden even from her sister, wasn’t for power—but for a sweet romance at the Academy she’d soon attend. Especially with a cold, handsome man like the protagonist of [The Northern Duke’s Eldest Son Stabbing Noble Ladies with a Red-Hot Poker], a novel she’d recently read.

But Armenia shook her head.

“This isn’t an elixir. It’s chocolate chip cookies.”

“Cookies?”

Leah’s ears perked up. In the Palthis family, where strict diets forbade sweets and pastries to uphold the family’s dignity, chocolate chip cookies were a rare sight.

Eventually, she reluctantly reached out.

“…Hmph, fine. Just one. I’ll get fat.”

“And you’re the one who has to take the elixirs anyway. Even if they taste bad, tough it out.”

“What are you talking about— Mmph?!”

Leah glared at Armenia as she popped a cookie into her mouth—then her eyes widened.

It wasn’t just sweet. It was bitter, slightly salty, but the harmony elevated the flavor to something she’d never tasted before.

Leah’s expression melted instantly.

“I-It’s delicious…”

“Right?? Right?? I was shocked when I first tried it too. It tastes just like the ones sold back home—how did they even make this combination…”

Leah ignored Armenia’s rambling and locked eyes on the box still full of cookies.

The moment her hand stealthily reached for it—

—Tap.

“…Huh?”

New-type erasure.

In an instant, Leah vanished from the bedroom, bypassing even Armenia’s spatial perception.

Armenia stared blankly at her empty hand—

“…Leah, I was saving those! I-I’ll give you a thousand-year ginseng—no, a ten-thousand-year one! Give them back!!”