Youngest 072
by CristaeEpisode 72
Several days passed.
From the moment I returned to the manor, I fell mildly ill. In the end, at the Duke’s strict command, the physician of Zelox was dragged in without warning.
I learned how the kidnapping incident was resolved from fragments of adult conversation I overheard while half-asleep.
Licht, Titi, and Olivia had all returned home safely, and the culprits were captured and sent to prison.
Asha was nearly accused as another suspect in the kidnapping for approaching the girls, but thanks to the testimony of Licht and the other children, she managed to clear herself.
As though refilling all the strength that had drained from me, I slept endlessly in my bed.
“It seems you’ve caught a cold. Some good rest for a few days, and…”
After a thorough examination, Borvel declared I’d caught a cold from being out in the rain.
A cold.
When you finally release the tension you’ve been clinging to by a thread, I suppose that’s when a cold finds you.
In a half-dreamlike state, I felt the chill on my forehead and pondered vaguely.
Why won’t the fever go down?
Why do I keep crying?
Someone’s anxious voice buzzed endlessly in my ears.
It was odd. As I lay ill, I kept weeping. Maybe it was the fever that made my eyes water…
To be completely honest… every time my father touched me, the tears came.
“What’s all this talk about ‘Dad’ out of nowhere? It’s a bit much.”
“Come on, you were happy when we adopted you.”
“Well, yes, but the child isn’t like a child should be.”
“That’s true.”
“There’s something sly about how she’s always watching, always cautious… She’s not what I expected.”
A whirlwind of memories from my previous life swept through me.
Voices leaking through the crack of the bedroom door—I wanted to respond.
You’re the ones who made me live on eggshells. Should’ve just bought a doll instead.
But I looked down at my toes, not wanting to return to the orphanage, then turned away. It was a meaningless gesture in the end.
“Children who have experienced being disowned should be embraced with love.”
The words of my second set of parents drifted from their online broadcast as I wandered a dark alley, clutching my cramped stomach.
At least they were kind parents, the kind who didn’t openly despise me.
“I’m sorry. Life’s gotten harder, and we can’t take care of you any longer.”
“You… didn’t like living with us very much, did you? You were the only one who never called us Mom or Dad. That made it awkward on the broadcast, too…”
I am not an object to be borrowed and returned as needed.
I wanted to scream it then, too—but I didn’t. Enduring was just a part of life.
After being sent back twice, I returned to the orphanage and around that time fell in love with a novel I chanced upon.
The protagonist who rises once more, planting his sword in wasteland after losing everything. There was a nameless tenderness and solace in that scene.
Would I ever be able to rise again?
Yet I had no sword, or anything else.
I was too weak and insignificant to withstand the harsh winds blowing over that land…
I read and reread Part 1, where Leviathan appeared, to the point even I found it odd. So when Leviathan died, I wept beneath my blanket.
‘If I were you, I’d feel wronged, too.’
To strive so desperately, only for it all to end in a meaningless death.
‘That’s why I wanted to protect you…’
Maybe that’s why I reincarnated into this world.
Honestly… I was a little glad.
It was hard, of course, to become a character in such a harsh setting. But it felt like I’d finally been given a chance to change something.
So from that battlefield, little by little…
Bit by bit, I decided to help you…
……
……
‘Wait?’
As I wandered in my haze, a question intruded.
‘When I returned to the orphanage…’
I’d given back my phone, and the password on the shared computer had been changed—I couldn’t use it anymore.
‘So how did I read that novel?’
Where, exactly…
Then it happened.
No.
With a familiar voice, the vision shifted in an instant.
Before my eyes lay endless darkness.
Not yet.
A single bright light floated in the center of that darkness.
‘Who are you? Who are you, speaking in my mind?’
Even as I asked, I realized—
I knew what this presence was. The power of magical knowledge within me—the thing called Wisdom of Wizeria.
‘What do you mean, not yet?’
Because the time hasn’t come yet. But… yes. I suppose it’s time I returned these memories.
The light flared brightly. As the radiance spread, I shut my eyes tightly.
The world spun, then abruptly stopped.
Again, sometime in my past life.
I was in the orphanage, sobbing beneath my blanket. Beside my pillow, my phone glowed gently.
Why was I crying?
Because my favorite protagonist had just died.
Why did he die, so suddenly?
It was…
The mist that had clouded my mind cleared.
Now I could answer that question.
‘Because he was killed.’
“Our king’s wrath is not so easily defied.”
A white-robed priest, a crest branded on his right forearm…
A mage of the kingdom.
Khalid quietly opened the door to the bedroom.
Moving silently, he approached the sleeping Rubian.
In the moonlight streaming through the window, cold sweat beaded on her round forehead.
“…”
He glanced around, found a wet cloth, and carefully wiped her brow. Rubian murmured restlessly, as if trapped in a nightmare.
“Don’t be sick.”
Khalid bit his lip and gently took her fingertips.
“…If you’re ill, I don’t know what to do.”
He carefully transferred some of his magic, but the furrow in Rubian’s brow did not ease.
“Sorry. Because of me…”
He’d sworn to protect her.
Instead, he had caused her to suffer things she should never have faced.
Khalid let out a low sigh of self-reproach. And then—
“…Ruby?”
Rubian’s eyelids fluttered open without a sound.
“Are you feeling… Your eyes…”
A fierce, tumultuous red surged in Rubian’s gaze.
Khalid’s brow wrinkled instinctively.
Whenever Rubian used Wizeria’s power, her eyes turned this vivid red. To harness high-level magic from the ocean of knowledge stored within her, beyond her own limitations.
Because of this, Rubian easily comprehended the most complex magic circles, and sometimes conjured impossible equations as though it were nothing.
In the kingdom, on the battlefield, her power was always pushed to its uttermost limit.
For this reason, most believed Rubian’s eyes were a deep ruby in color.
It might have been fortunate for them, always on the run…
“Damn it.”
Khalid’s gut twisted again.
‘They never let her rest—not even for a moment.’
He had exploited her power ceaselessly. That might be why Rubian’s growth had halted.
The more he recalled it, the more furious, the more sick he felt.
“…Khal.”
Her voice was leaden, weighed down.
“Don’t strain yourself. Did you have a nightmare?”
He held Rubian’s fingers. She looked over at him, bleary, exhaustion in her gaze.
“Go back to sleep. I’ll stay here. Or would you rather I called the Duke of Zevert?”
At that, her small shoulders shivered. Her eyes, quickly clearing to blue, now brimmed with tears.
“Why are you crying? Are you hurt?”
Rubian shook her head.
“In my dream… you died.”
“Who did?”
“Leviathan…”
Khalid froze.
“Killed by a mage… But I don’t know who… I don’t know…”
Rubian rambled in a faint voice.
“Ruby, calm down.”
“I have to find out…”
Khalid decided Rubian was still delirious with fever and wandering in a dream.
He quickly sent more magic into her.
Muttering senselessly, Rubian’s strength faded, and her eyes fluttered closed once more.
“I have to… save Leviathan…”
Her forehead burned hot as he touched it.
Her head dropped. It had been a long time since he’d felt so helpless.
“I really wish I could take your place.”
Shame and anger crashed over him.
If only he could, he would tie himself up and hang himself upside down.
If only he hadn’t lost hold of her at that hot spring…
For the boy, the night was endless.