episode_0126

Watching Eric kneeling silently, Christine let out a sigh.

“It’s fine, Oppa. I get it now, so you can stand up.”

As Eric dusted off his legs and rose lightly, Christine stared at him with vacant eyes.

“What about Cecil unnie? No matter how impulsive it was, if you keep running around with Lucy unnie, you’ll naturally start caring less.”

“Him charging at me like that wasn’t something I anticipated. For either of us. So there’s nothing special I need to do. Even without me, she has plenty of places to seek solace. Dwelling on pointless emotions like guilt and forgiveness only leads to self-destruction—forcing yourself to forget is better. Holding onto it too long only harms you.”

“You talk like it’s some kind of sickness.”

“Then it is. A nasty one with no cure except time.”

Hearing that, Christine finally understood the exact reason their words never reached Eric. He wasn’t refusing to forgive them, nor had he chosen to ignore them.

To Eric, this state wasn’t unnatural or unexpected.

He genuinely believed no one could feel sorry for him or love him.

So naturally, no action could ever reach him.

And the one who had driven him to this point was none other than Christine herself.

“Hey, Oppa. Can I ask you one last thing?”

“What is it?”

“If I ignored, insulted, and disrespected you like I did before… would you hate me?”

It was a logical question—anyone would resent someone who treated them poorly—and also the worst-case scenario Christine could conceive, disguised as a query. If she couldn’t secure his affection, she’d rather be the object of his hatred. Even the noblest souls are more sensitive to malice than kindness.

But Eric shattered even that last expectation.

“That’s exactly why I’m kneeling and talking things through—so that doesn’t happen. But if you still don’t trust me and try to go it alone…? Well, I don’t really have a choice. Like it or not, we’re on the same boat now—a fate-bound community, so to speak. If you fail against the Demon King and collapse, I die too.”

“…Haha.”

Only after hearing those words could Christine finally, completely withdraw from this place. She couldn’t do it alone. Eric had already abandoned hope. She had known, but refused to admit it, turning a blind eye while desperately devoting herself for his sake.

Yet if he wouldn’t acknowledge her, she resolved to at least earn his hatred. That much was an undeniable fact—something unshaken by his gaze. And though it was terrible, it was something she was confident in.

At least, up until now.

“As for the money, I’ll lend it as promised. Just send me the proposal later.”

“Thanks, Chris.”

“…Sorry. I’m just… tired. Must be from talking too long. I’ll rest for today.”

Without waiting for Eric’s response, Christine bolted out of the room like she was escaping. She didn’t want him to see whatever expression was on her face right now.

———–

“What’s her deal?”

Scratching my head, I watched Chris storm out unexpectedly.

No clue what wind blew her way. She was laughing and chatting just fine when we got home, then suddenly turned gloomy, asked some cryptic question, and left without warning.

But whatever. At least I got her promise on the money. Chris isn’t the type to take back her word, so it should be fine.

I can confidently report to Dave and Cheryl.

In better spirits, I lay comfortably on the bed, waiting for dinner.

—

The next day, after classes ended, I summoned Dave and Cheryl separately.

“She agreed to lend us money. Lucky for us.”

“Lending, not giving—that rubs me the wrong way.”

“Hey. Expecting more is just being a thief. You wouldn’t give out free newspapers either, right?”

“Declining to provide free assistance in rehabilitating and clearing a family’s name raises serious doubts about your qualifications as the Grave family’s successor.”

“If you run with that headline, I’ll wreck this whole operation before you can blink.”

“Tch…”

Cheryl pouted slightly but stayed quiet.

“So, what’s the limit on the funds we can use?”

“Dunno. Depends on how brilliantly you draft that proposal.”

“You said ‘you.’ Does that mean the Young Master of Grave won’t be involved?”

“Huh? Of course I’m involved. We need someone to sell the finished paper. It’s just that part’s separate from your roles.”

“Indeed… The capital would be the quickest place to find those fleeing the Empire’s protection.”

“Once you finish the first issue, you’ll be running all over the place. You got the professor’s permission, right?”

“Obviously. Convinced them with my dazzling rhetoric.”

“Right.”

I didn’t buy Cheryl’s ‘dazzling rhetoric,’ but persuading the professor was probably true. Both she and Dave were top-tier students—no professor would stop them from pursuing their specialties.

“Get the proposal to me by tomorrow. Or directly to Chris. Either way, I’m the one handling the funding.”

Dave and Cheryl nodded in unison.

“Understood. Rest assured—I’ll craft a budget plan so flawless even Chris won’t object.”

“I will ensure the Grave name remains untarnished.”

Eyes still gleaming at the mention of funding, Cheryl composed herself as Dave bowed slightly.

Hmm, those two will manage on their own.

They can’t distribute nationally until I secure sellers anyway.

That leaves Lucille. As Chris said, I sensed some truth in needing strength for myself.

I’ve made preparations so everyone can move forward even if I die unexpectedly, but minimizing that risk is still better.

With that in mind, I set off to find Lucille—only to hit a snag:

“Where is she?”

I had no idea where Lucille was. The other three could track her mana, but for a regular person like me, that wasn’t easy.

After some thought, an idea struck.

“Guess I’ll just ask.”

Grumbling, I trudged to the freshman dorms. Though I didn’t live there, Lucille frequented the place.

As expected, I spotted my target the moment I entered.

“Chris.”

“What brings you here, Oppa? To grace us with your presence?”

Her smooth, poised tone almost made me whistle. It was such flawless acting, you’d think yesterday never happened.

I only noticed when I saw the faint panic in Chris’s eyes.

Seeing that loosened me up. Barging in here was my fault, so I’d play along with Chris’s ideal image while I stayed.

“Do you know where Lucille is?”

“Lucille sunbaenim? Probably at Training Ground 7. She trains there regularly.”

“Got it. Thanks.”

With a quick nod, I left. Lingering would only invite trouble—freshman admirers picking fights or prying about us.

Now knowing Lucille’s location, I quickened my pace.

Minutes later, in the empty training grounds, I found her.

Training Ground 7—the academy’s worst-equipped facility. Without noble backing, this was her only option.

Then and now, her sword swings never changed.

Whoosh— Whoosh—

“Hey, Luci—”

Whoosh— Whoosh— Whoosh-Whoosh—

Ignoring me completely, she kept swinging. Overwhelmed, I quietly waited.

Yeah… interrupting practice is rude anyway.