NOVEL WEB Chapter 36
“Yo, is this the treasury?”
“Yeah.”
“Holy cow. You sure it’s okay to bring a random person here?”
“…….”
Melinoss, the renowned magical empress.
However, the young elf standing before her seemed completely unfazed by such titles and authority.
“It might be problematic for the state… but you’re our master, and we are in a position to ask for your help. How could we possibly nitpick over something like that?”
“Hmm? If that’s the case, then let’s have some fun with it. It’ll be good eye candy.”
“…Master, may I ask why you’re deliberately using dialects usually heard only in rural areas?”
“What? Got a problem with it?”
It seems she’s decided to mess around a bit.
They say an elf’s appearance depends on their mental maturity.
Not all elves follow this rule, but the girl before them certainly seems to fit the description.
“If His Majesty is busy ruling the land, then surely you have some free time too, right?”
“This is also part of my duties.”
“You’ve become quite flexible these days.”
The elf girl, Geoffrey, flicked her fingers as if brushing something off, while tilting her head playfully.
Though the palace is divided into sections, exploring every corner would be like navigating a labyrinth without end.
But these days, with the royal family dwindling rapidly, nearly half the palace stands eerily empty, resembling abandoned real estate.
This will change eventually when Elhermina ascends the throne, Melinoss thought.
“Let’s see what’s here.”
The treasures are categorized by value and rarity.
Among them are countless items whose worth has yet to be proven.
Different sections house vastly different kinds of treasures; one area might hold nothing more than antiques, while another could make your eyes pop out.
However, this particular section contains unidentified objects that have been carelessly stacked away just in case they turn out to be valuable someday.
“Fancy stuff, ain’t it?”
“These aren’t exactly spoils of war, but…”
“Could there be relics from fallen nations?”
“…….”
“Meh, probably doesn’t concern either of us anyway.”
With a mischievous grin, Geoffrey casually strolled through the glittering piles of gold and jewels, treating it like a sightseeing tour.
Meanwhile, Melinoss trailed behind her, keeping pace.
There were no other attendants present because this mission was deemed too sensitive and confidential to involve others.
“Finding traces of Carriel among all this will take forever.”
“…If I were you, maybe. But Master’s different, isn’t she?”
“Hmph! Like I’d waste my energy doing grunt work for free. Tsk tsk tsk!”
On the surface, she looks like she’s throwing a tantrum, but Melinoss knows better.
Her antics are starting to get annoying.
“Well then, let’s begin.”
A relaxed expression turns serious.
Her previously wandering green eyes sharpen with focus.
“Khrimh Shael Vokar”
She chants in an unknown tongue.
A thick line of blue light sweeps across the room.
To those who can’t perceive spirits, sometimes phenomena like this occur.
But this… this is something entirely different.
‘The fusion of spirits and magic.’
Magic fusion and spirit fusion.
And Geoffrey Day Adelvais, one of the three great masters of spirit-magic fusion.
A technique that goes beyond simply communing with spirits, allowing direct instructions and commands to be relayed efficiently.
It was she who elevated the art of spirit affinity from mere talent into a structured discipline.
“Watch closely.”
Geoffrey beckons Melinoss closer, then taps her forehead lightly with her tiny index finger.
The world dissolves into monochrome, leaving only hues of pale blue.
In this strange realm, they witness Carriel, looking confused, conversing with someone—or something—as he arrived here.
“Do you know who he’s talking to?”
“…That’s the question.”
“I mean, back then he communicated with spirits just fine, but here… the energy and environment seem hostile, so it shouldn’t be easy, right?”
“R-really?”
“Why? Didn’t Carriel mention that?”
“…….”
Their conversation pauses briefly before refocusing on the unfolding scene.
Suddenly, Carriel hesitates, seemingly realizing how deep he’s gotten himself into this situation.
As if held back by an invisible force, he stops mid-step.
His eyes widen as though he’s seen something shocking.
[You… Who exactly are you…?]
…
“Looks like he saw a ghost or something.”
Or…
“Something similar, perhaps? What do you think?”
“I don’t know the specifics yet. We still lack clear information.”
“Then why not just summon Carriel directly and ask him? Simple solution.”
“Th-that…”
“Wasn’t his engagement supposed to be tomorrow? Oh, I saw on the way here—looks like he’s planning a low-key ceremony. No big fuss.”
“…….”
While casually inspecting the rest of the treasure vault, Geoffrey suddenly asks:
“If you’re hiding anything, spill the beans now. Once I start digging deeper, this won’t stay a trivial matter.”
“B-but how did you—?”
“Nope. Not a clue. Know absolutely nothing.”
Despite her playful tone and demeanor,
a piercing glare emanates from Geoffrey’s eyes.
“Take the chance while it’s offered.”
And with that, Geoffrey strides confidently through the vault, muttering under her breath:
“Since we’re here, might as well grab a snack along the way…”
Alternatively…
“…or maybe you’d prefer I march straight to your emperor and confront him face-to-face?”
====
“Are you alright?”
“Huh…? Wh-what about?”
At Partyna’s inquiry, Ruelde blinks blankly for a moment.
“You haven’t reviewed a single document today.”
“O-oh, really?”
His mind feels scattered.
This hasn’t happened before—not like this.
He keeps wondering if what he’s doing is right…
What was the purpose again?
Is he feeling regret?
Or maybe…
Whatever it is, his thoughts are clouded, and concentration eludes him.
“At least Carriel regaining his senses late in the game is a relief, isn’t it?”
“Eh? Oh… yeah. That’s true.”
That child knows nothing.
Neither does anyone else, likely.
“…”
The day Carriel left…
Ironically, it turned out to be a blessing for Ruelde.
But now…
“I’ve returned from welcoming them.”
“His Highness sent you?”
“Don’t worry about formalities. We’re alone here.”
“…”
Returning home felt hollow.
Hermine had been instructed to recuperate at the grand cathedral instead of coming back here.
Best not to remind oneself too directly of Carriel’s absence.
Coincidentally, Princess Elhermina visited.
“So, how was Carriel?”
“He’s grown dependable.”
“…”
“But he won’t forgive either Lord Ruelde or Lady Hermine. And perhaps not even the empire itself.”
“That’s…”
“Still, it won’t escalate into tragedy driven by grudges. Some venting might be necessary though.”
“…”
It feels like drifting between dreams and reality.
This sensation of falling from heaven into hell refuses to settle.
He’s accustomed to hardship and pain, thinking he’d adapted long ago.
Yet this time, it’s proving unexpectedly difficult to bear.
“Are you alright?”
“…Sorry for showing such weakness.”
“I have a question.”
“If it’s something I can answer, feel free to ask.”
Elhermina appears to gather her thoughts.
Her gaze suggests uncertainty about whether pursuing this line of questioning is appropriate.
“When dealing with Carriel, have you ever felt any sense of unease?”
“In what way?”
“Since His Majesty summoned Mistress Geoffrey, we’ll find out soon enough if she arrives. But just in case…”
“Could you specify more clearly what you’re referring to?”
“I’ve observed Carriel closely over a long period. Thus, I’m familiar with various circumstances surrounding him.”
However, there’s something peculiar.
“People interacting with Carriel tend to exhibit extreme changes in behavior when dealing with him.”
“Huh? What do you mean?”
“For instance…”
Princess Elhermina gestures toward herself and Ruelde with a self-deprecating smile.
“Both myself and Sir Ruelde display similar tendencies when handling Carriel.”
“How so?”
“Blind faith. This applies equally to His and Her Majesties.”
“Blind faith? Isn’t that just trust?”
“There’s a significant difference.”
Elhermina hesitates momentarily before continuing.
“And those who react adversarially toward him also show varied patterns of behavior.”
Complete disregard.
Mockery and scorn.
Occasionally even hatred.
“Some go beyond harboring feelings and act accordingly.”
A prime example being her own younger brother, Alesius.
Others exist as well.
“Ordinarily, I would have intervened or restrained such actions much earlier.”
Under normal circumstances.
“…But after reflecting upon my own actions following his departure, I realized something unsettling. My usual conduct and attitude diverged significantly from the results I observed.”
“…”
“As if something obscured my vision.”
And perhaps…
“Lady Hermine wouldn’t be exempt from this either, I imagine.”
“Hermine too?”
“While still speculative, it would be wise to consider the possibility of some malicious spell affecting us in ways we fail to notice.”
“…”
Ruelde contemplates this.
Perhaps understanding his own reactions in this context would make things slightly more comprehensible.
And consequently, allow him to channel all his hatred and anger toward whoever cast such a malevolent spell…
“What if this suspicion proves baseless?”
“In that case… I admit my shortcomings, my inadequacies, even my ugliness.”
Rather…
“It might actually be for the best. However, if individuals capable of conducting such insidious malice beyond our comprehension exist…”
Isn’t Carriel currently in grave danger?
====
“…”
Dusk falls.
Ruelde absentmindedly pulls out a crumpled letter from his inner pocket.
Unfolding it reveals illegible scribbles, but he carefully smooths it out on his desk.
[May nothing unfortunate happen to Lady Hermine during childbirth.
May nothing abnormal occur regarding the newborn’s wellbeing.
Premised on this, I wish to convey the following:
I sincerely express gratitude for the birth of the child between Lady Hermine and Lord Ruelde.
Because of this, I can now leave here with peace of mind.
I shall leave behind the name ‘Brendiar.’
Being your son was hard.
Living as your child was painful.
Though I cannot bring myself to say I wish I hadn’t been born—
Perhaps I repeated such thoughts dozens, hundreds, or even thousands of times.
For a long time, I prayed.
Nothing changed.
If it was due to insufficient sincerity, effort, or desperation—
Should I really have no choice but to die?
But what truly frightens me is whether I’ll linger in your hearts even after death.
No, that doesn’t scare me.
Rather…
Had I never existed at all…
Wouldn’t all these tormenting memories feel less cruel?
If regrets remain, it means I’ve become the embodiment of your shame and guilt.
Thus, let me say this:
I apologize for being born.
Please forget someone like me and live happily.
Chances are, I’ll return someday.
But it won’t be for reuniting with you.
Please understand that.
Lastly, when the time comes to cross swords with me, please refrain from holding back or wavering.
I expect nothing less than your full commitment.
Naturally, I’ll do the same.
Still, rest assured—I won’t burden your life as your son anymore.
That’s why I’m putting down the name ‘Brendiar.’
I tried to understand you.
I empathized with your suffering.
I witnessed firsthand how past wounds kept you awake at night, filled with anxiety.
Even so, I couldn’t bring myself to truly hate or resent you.
But none of that matters to a child, does it?
Therefore, please treat this new baby with love.
Pay attention to them, nurture them, and thank them daily for their existence.
Help each other achieve this as a family—it’s an obligation no one else can fulfill on your behalf.]
“…”
Without a postscript or proper conclusion, the letter ends abruptly.
But there’s no helping it—the page is already full.
Perhaps it gives the illusion of being unfinished only because he managed to place a period at the very end.
There’s no more space left.
He wanted to see more, hear more.
How did it come to this?
He hasn’t shown this letter to Hermine yet.
In fact, he never will.
“Being born…”
Apologizing for existing…
What kind of statement is that?
How could someone say such a thing to him?
If only this were all a dream.
No, something must be wrong.
It must be some bad dream.
Maybe he’s still under some sort of mind-altering magic—a spirit manipulation spell or enchantment? Curses happen often enough.
Remember when Hermine almost lost her sight because of one?
Back then, she cried out in despair, clutching her imaginary child in a hallucination.
Eventually, she accepted reality, though…
Sorrow has become far too familiar to them.
Too numerous to count individually.
How has he endured all this?
Because they were together.
And yet…
Having his own son write and speak these words…
What kind of explanation exists for this?
“…”
Is this sadness?
When sorrow becomes overwhelming, tears don’t fall, and thoughts cease altogether.
Despite experiencing this countless times, Ruelde finds this time particularly excruciating—like his soul is being torn apart rather than just his bones.
“…But.”
He can’t stop here.
Giving up and collapsing would amount to fleeing.
He needs to investigate, to confront the truth.
If resentment reaches its peak and killing him won’t resolve anything…
He can’t die, but convincing and compromising somehow…
No, that’s incorrect.
It’s not about compromise or persuasion.
Apologies… Regrets… That’s all there is.
But…
‘Where on earth has he gone?’
The destination is unknown.
Even the empire’s detection network can’t locate him.
How is that possible?
“Pull yourself together.”
If he collapses, so does Hermine.
It would destabilize the entire empire, including the emperor, who’s like a brother to him.
Until recently, they had to tread carefully around the nobility.
While the nobles easily manipulate dirty tricks, they couldn’t—and Ruelde especially couldn’t.
Restrictions bind him tightly, chaining him like shackles.
Though he willingly accepted this burden…
Right now, he doesn’t want to think about anything.
Just give him a small moment—a brief pause—to process and endure all this.
Father.
Heaven.
God.