Youngest 109

Episode 109

That lunatic. Even in that state, he didn’t let out so much as a groan.

In the end, the Emperor took a step back.

If a mage had truly intended to infiltrate the duke’s residence… that would have been a disaster.

But there was no evidence. Because he was dead.

‘A mage dying on my land is the biggest headache of all.’

The Emperor let out a long sigh and pressed his forehead. As Leviathan began to walk away, he glanced at him.

“Arcadia’s come upon a convenient excuse, hasn’t it?”

“What the hell… What nonsense.”

“A mage, failing in an attempt on a noble’s life, self-destructed.”

“…Tch.”

“It’s all in how you spin the story, isn’t it? I hear that’s your expertise.”

That hero bastard, one day I’ll kill him.

The Emperor clenched his fist inwardly.

“Well then, I suppose… I’ll assume you don’t need your cloak returned.”

Step, step. The duke’s broad back receded into the distance.

“Wait… Wait!”

The Emperor forced himself to swallow a ragged breath.

“Your Majesty, shall we stop him…?”

He burst out laughing at the knights’ question.

“Stop? By whom? You? That monster?”

“Then…”

“Huuuuuu…”

His turquoise eyes grew dark and cold.

“Ron.”

At his brief summons, a masked shadow revealed himself.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Everything that happened here—say nothing of it. Handle this quietly. I’ll write to Arcadia myself.”

After a pause, he added,

“Especially, make sure nothing about the Lady leaks out.”

The Zevert’s daughter, about whom the tracker mage remained suspicious to the end…

‘If it gets out that she was here for no reason, the Mage Kingdom will undoubtedly be drawn to her again.’

The Emperor rubbed the space between his brows as a sudden headache throbbed.

For some reason, he had a bad feeling. The sense that he had just taken on something exceedingly troublesome… A feeling like that.

“Your Majesty. Does that mean you will cover all that was just discussed?”

“The Lady is, indisputably, a citizen of the Babylon Empire.”

He recalled the image of the bickering father and daughter sitting side by side. The bright, innocent face of the child.

“We must protect her. From those outside…”

That damn duke.

This is why he had me sign those damn papers.

“Be it Arcadia, or whoever else.”

With a sigh, the Emperor sealed his resolve.

---

I woke up not long after.

It was only a brief sleep, caused by the abrupt expenditure of mana on top of the herb’s effect. As soon as Khalid shared his mana with me and the dream ended, I came to my senses quickly.

The moment I opened my eyes in bed, I bolted upright and ran.

It was late at night.

The duke’s residence was in an uproar.

“What do I dooo…”

Tears began to well up in my eyes.

Raw, exposed flesh. Blood running down an arm.

My lips trembled and pouted.

“There you go again, making that silly face. Who brought her here?”

“Th-the blood… It’s too much…”

Dad glanced indifferently at his injured arm.

All I could do was stare helplessly at that wound and cry.

Borvel, who had been urgently called from his bed, calmly sprinkled hemostatic and started wrapping the arm with bandages.

“It could have been much worse.”

Mom, gathering up the bloodied clothes, was the one to speak.

She tried to appear composed, but clearly the shock was great—her face was deathly pale.

“If you hadn’t dodged the blast properly, you could have been badly hurt.”

“The timing… I suppose it was good after all.”

Dad glanced at me, muttering under his breath.

“Hrk. Dad’s arm…”

“Ha. Why did you get up in the middle of the night instead of sleeping?”

He poked my forehead.

“Hurry up and go back to sleep.”

Honestly, the voices around me barely registered.

Perched anxiously on the big sofa, kneeling, I kept my gaze fixed only on Dad’s arm.

‘Dad got hurt.’

When the explosion caused by the ‘Fourth’s’ self-destruct mage tool shattered the silence, Dad had acted on instinct and shielded me with his own body.

It was clear he’d been cut by the flying shards of wood and ornamental fragments.

“What do I do…”

“Ruby, anyone would think your father had died, hearing you cry like that.”

“I-I don’t want to hear about dying…! Waaaah.”

The tears I’d been holding back burst forth.

Everyone present—Mom, Dad, those in the inner chamber—visibly panicked.

Not that it mattered to me; I wailed with abandon.

Not even when my secret of being a girl was revealed had I cried so hard.

But right now, I just wanted to cry.

In my dream—

Dad’s face as he died, pale and fading, kept overlapping in my mind.

“Alright, alright. Don’t cry. Daddy’s really fine.”

“Rubian? Didn’t Doctor Borvel tell you? It’s nothing.”

“Yes, yes, of course, Young Lady. To His Grace, this is less than a scratch.”

The adults fidgeted anxiously, trying to comfort me.

But I was like a broken faucet, tears streaming endlessly.

At last, unable to take any more, Dad scooped me up and settled me on his knee.

“Rubian Zevert.”

The low voice calling my name.

Only then did my focus return, and I saw Dad’s face clearly.

‘My name…’

Hiccuping, I slowly became aware of my surroundings.

My worried mother. Doctor Borvel, not sure what to do. Hazel, Adolf the butler.

And Dad, looking down at me seriously.

‘Reality…’

The realization came late.

This was my reality now, as ‘Rubian Zevert.’

I scrubbed the tears from my eyes with the back of my hand and answered,

“Y-yes…”

“Why are you crying so sadly? Did you have a nightmare?”

My head bobbed up and down almost violently.

It was a terrible, terrible nightmare.

In the dream, Dad was killed by a mage… and that mage…

“I was so, so scared. Really…”

I flung my arms around Dad’s neck. His warm hand soothed my back.

“You’re sweating cold bullets… Borvel.”

“Y-yes. I’ll bring some tea to help her calm down.”

Borvel hurried out of the parlor, maids following behind.

With my eyes squeezed shut, I replayed the dream in my mind.

It was a dark night. A mage from the Kingdom, meeting with Dad alone.

She was small, with a thin voice, and bore branches of the World Tree trailing down to her forearms.

Her eyes in the dim moonlight shone a distinct, vivid red.

A mere puppet of the Mage King, without even a name…

The Seventh.

That was what she was called.

‘That was…’

I bit my lip.

‘That was me.’

I was no extra with not a single line in the story. I just hadn’t remembered myself.

Frantically, I shook my head.

‘No. That’s not me!’

I hastily scrubbed away my freely flowing tears.

“Ruby, what’s wrong? Look at Daddy. Don’t bite your lip.”

Gently, Dad pried me loose. Cupping my cheeks, he examined me closely.

“What kind of nightmare could it have been…? That was just a dream. It’s not reality. Try to calm down, okay?”

His firm voice was exactly what I’d needed to hear.

That’s right. It isn’t reality.

It’s only the original plot, which is gone now.

‘Because I changed it.’

I was no longer the Mage King’s ‘Seventh.’ I’d fled him long ago, and I was now Rubian, with the Zevert name.

Unlike the original ‘Seventh,’ who never escaped the Mage King’s clutches, I’d created an entirely different outcome.

“Dad, your arm…”

Even so, when I saw the red blood, I couldn’t help but be frightened.

I thought Dad was going to die…

With tears still falling, I reached cautiously for Dad’s bandaged arm.

I couldn’t bear to touch it, so I only hovered my hand in the air above it.

“It’s alright. It’ll stop soon. As long as you stop crying.”

“I’ll stop…”

Meeting his gaze, I answered. Dad wrapped one arm around my head and drew me close.

“Whew. I’m just glad you weren’t hurt.”

A long sigh of relief melted into the air. Steady and strong, the beat of his heart pressed against my cheek.

I listened quietly to that sound.

‘Yes. This is reality.’

That steady rhythm was quick to calm me.