Youngest 027

Episode 27

Was it Hazel who told her?

“Footsteps. The sound of heels hitting the floor was different. It was like you were slightly dragging one leg…”

“…”

“And when you dodged the carriage in the village earlier, you staggered to the right.”

Chup chup. The hands wrapping the cloth were astonishingly deft.

“So I thought maybe your leg was hurting.”

Hah. Morris gave an involuntary sigh.

“If you keep enduring it, it’ll only get worse.”

“…”

“Gasp, your knee is really hot.”

The child, quietly touching a single finger to his knee, frowned.

Ruby, who had been fanning him, seemed to think it was no use and lowered herself close to the bed.

Then, pursing her lips, she blew gently on Balok’s knee.

As if to cool a fever, her tender breath grazed his wound.

Morris bit down hard on the inside of his cheek.

If even Balok’s heart, frozen solid for so long, could melt for that soft breath.

‘I can see your lips trembling, Your Excellency.’

He stared at Balok’s face, lurking in the darkness.

In decades, he had seen Balok cry only twice.

Once, when his wife passed from this world.

And again, when his granddaughter was stillborn.

Those were wounds that scarred them all.

The son collapsed, the daughter-in-law lost her health. Then the dark beasts invaded. Balok had wanted to join the fight in place of his despairing son. But his body would not obey.

A useless body.

That had been Balok’s refrain ever since.

“I even made it really big, and it’s still not enough…”

The cloth was just a little too short to wrap all the way around Balok’s broad thigh.

Ruby looked from her small hands to Balok’s huge frame, her face full of dissatisfaction. At last, a little mutter slipped out.

“I wish I were as strong as this…”

“…”

Unable to bear it any longer, Balok lifted his head and, eyes half-open, gazed at the back of the child’s head.

His gaze was quiet, and it lingered for a long, long time.

---

Several days passed.

I was spending some rather peaceful days.

‘Hmm, no one around, right?’

Checked: inside the room, outside the door, all clear.

I went to one side of the room and took out a purple magic stone. Magic stones individually wrapped in a luxurious box came into view.

‘Good.’

I moved my mana and picked up a stone.

Light seeped into the purple stone, glimmered for a moment, and then faded.

The power of the barrier stone had been activated.

Now to set it into a suitable tool…

Crafting a magic device was a far more complicated job than simply activating a magic stone.

‘I need enough space to spread out the magic circle, too.’

There’d probably be flashes of light and swirling wind, so doing it in the bedroom would be difficult.

‘Let’s think about that later.’

First, I need to process this mountain of magic stones!

‘More importantly…’

Bang, bang, bang!

Heavy, angry footsteps drew closer.

Finally, a knock sounded.

With a short sigh, I hurried to tuck away the stones, lining them up neatly on the window sill.

With this, I’d just look like a magic stone fanatic…

“At least you don’t break down my door anymore.”

Small mercies, I suppose.

“Eat!”

I sat in a daze, staring at the pile of snacks before me.

“What’s all this?”

Why am I sitting on the old man’s lap in the dining room, anyway?

“Can’t you see? These are all your favorites.”

Strawberry milk, strawberry cake, strawberry cream bread, strawberry pudding, strawberry candy, strawberry… strawberry…

It was as if a strawberry tart collapse was imminent. I looked up at the old man with an exasperated expression. Somehow, a strawberry tart had ended up in my hand.

Wait, when did I pick this up?

“Oh, look at you, eating so well.”

As if in a trance, I took a bite, and the old man grinned with satisfaction.

“Why are you doing this to me…?”

“If you finish it all, will you check my knee again?”

Ah, so it’s a bribe.

The old man’s eyes narrowed slyly.

“Will you blow on it for me again, all gentle?”

“Eek!”

I clapped my hands over my ears.

What do you mean, blow on it!

Even though the tart I dropped dirtied the old man’s foot, he only laughed heartily.

“Please stop teasing me!”

“Oh, you cheeky little rascal!”

That night, I had no idea the old man had been awake.

‘I only did it to hide that I’d used healing magic!’

I’d pressed a finger lightly, very lightly, to his knee and infused it with mana.

Just enough to dull the pain, so it wouldn’t be obvious.

Blowing breath was supposed to mask the sensation of mana seeping into his body!

“Ah, my knee hurts again, it seems. Would our genius little apothecary take a look?”

“…Geez!”

All I’d done was give him new fodder to tease me for.

I patted the old man’s shoulder in a flurry. Of course, his body was as solid as stone and didn’t budge.

“Give me back my ointment patch!”

“That’s not happening! It’s bad manners to take back a gift.”

“Then let me go! I don’t want any more strawberries. I’m busy!”

“That’s even more out of the question!”

Ugh. The old man rubbed his soft beard all over my cheek.

Ugh, so annoying!

Honestly, him threatening to throw me out was better than this. Was that ointment really so wonderful? Did it turn an old, stubborn grump into a doting fool?

“Ow, that stings, old man!”

“What old man? How cold!”

“Huh?”

“Are you my adjutant? Just call me Grandpa!”

Since when did we get so familiar?

But I couldn’t withstand another beard assault.

“Fine, fine! Grandpa!”

“Ahahaha!”

His laughter was loud enough to make my ears ring. His softened eyes looked at me warmly.

“Now, eat! If you want to be strong like your grandpa, you’ve got to eat plenty!”

“Ugh…”

“What in the world is going on?”

Leviathan Mister paused in the doorway to the dining room, baffled.

“Here we go again, Father. I’m busy, so I’ll eat separately today…”

Void, looking disgusted, beat a hasty retreat.

Yes, somewhere along the line, the old man—no, Grandpa—had started joining our meals now and then.

I reached out to Mister with a desperate expression.

“Save me, save me…!”

Please save me! Drowned in the beard of a strawberry-mad Grandpa, I’m going to die!

---

An island in the middle of the sea.

The kingdom of mages, Arcadia.

“Ah, the seventh. My child.”

In a place lined endlessly with white columns, a man in white priestly robes burst into wretched tears.

Around the throne where he reclined, others in white were standing in stately rows.

“Your Majesty.”

“They’ve left me again… Left me once again…”

His voice was sodden with grief.

He only wept for a moment, then the king, whose long white hair was tied back, struggled to his feet.

He was a beautiful man, with an air of sharp sensitivity, betraying no trace of his weeping.

“But perhaps it’s a blessing? This time, the child left with a physical body.”

“…”

“A body always leaves traces.”

Hm, yes. Quite right.

The king answered himself, nodding. A long smile played about his smooth lips.

“It’s alright. I’ll find the child soon. As long as they’re here, somewhere… All children rebel sometimes as they grow, do they not? Yes, yes.”

A withered hand flicked in the air.

Shadows wearing masks emerged from the floor.

“Send more tracking mages to the continent. Bring my child back to me.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“To summon the great Black Mage again, I need that child’s power. I must… I must…”

The king’s eyes shone coldly.

He added, after a moment’s thought—

“They’re a clever child; I’m sure they’re hiding everything they can. Don’t bother with age or gender—comb the entire continent, leave nothing unsearched.”

“As you command.”

Once more the king cried out for his child.

Ah, my beloved child.

Let me see again that noble hair, silver as moonlight, and those eyes, redder than blood… The great mage who inherited the wisdom of Wizeria, the jewel I stole away, my seventh—I must find them…