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Chapter : 7
The Baby Saint Wants to Destroy the World!
“My little one. My little brother, Chrom.”
He hated hearing those words repeated like a habit, so he cast the spell of immortality later than everyone else.
As a result, even compared to Beatrix, who had been six years older than him, he now looked older in appearance.
No…
It wasn’t only his appearance that had stopped.
Ever since the day she disappeared, time itself had long since stopped for those she left behind.
Especially Georg II of Sloth—the former Holy Knight who used to follow Lucy around like a stalker. After losing all will to live, he vanished without a trace, and no one knew where he had gone.
‘The other two are missing as well.’
Occasionally, strange rumors drifted in.
That a petite young lady had devoured enough food for fifty people.
That an incredibly wealthy man who suddenly appeared in the Southern Kingdom had bought up every bit of cash circulating in the nation.
Wherever they were and whatever they were doing, there was no reason to force them back.
There had only ever been one reason why six people with such wildly different personalities had been able to stand together.
Lucifella.
She was the reason.
“So, it seems even you can finally break down.”
Just as Chrom stood lost in thought, Beatrix of Envy picked another pointless fight, just as she always did.
“If you can’t handle your duties properly, hand over the position of Chancellor to me.”
The woman with the green bangs cut diagonally across her forehead had always treated Chrom this way—even back when Lucy was alive.
Was it simply in her nature to become jealous whenever someone else did well?
Because of that petty personality, Lucy had nicknamed her Envy, saying she had the heart of a tiny, narrow-minded fish. No title suited Beatrix better.
“I suppose you’ve already finished the diplomatic paperwork for negotiations with the Northern Kingdom?”
“W-Well…”
“You’d better hurry. Since Jack’s away, work is piling up like a mountain.”
Beatrix always started the arguments.
Yet she had never once defeated Chrom.
Not in administration.
Not in magic.
Not in swordsmanship.
Nor even in Lucifella’s affection.
Lucy had tried to love everyone equally, but Chrom had been her very first disciple.
To her, he had undoubtedly been special.
…No.
He had to be.
From the days of his foolish youth, Lucifella had been his admired older sister, his mother, and his teacher.
He had sworn to dedicate his life to her.
Yet she had died so suddenly, never even knowing of that resolve.
Having endured another exhausting day of work, Chrom once again headed alone toward the underground altar where she rested.
Before the departure ceremony…
As though leaving behind a final will, she had entrusted him with a secret she claimed she had never told anyone.
“Even after I die… I can remember my previous lives.”
If Lucy had never spoken those words…
Chrom would have followed her into death long ago.
“So… if I die before obtaining the Forbidden Magic… Lunafelt will be yours to protect.”
She had promised that, even if death came unexpectedly, she would surely return here someday.
Believing in that promise—one with no guarantee of ever being fulfilled—Chrom had endured nearly fifty years alone.
“…Just how much longer must I wait before I can see you again?”
Sitting beside the altar, he carefully gazed over her lifeless body.
Her abundant orange-brown hair flowed like gentle waves.
Her long eyelashes.
Her tightly closed crimson lips.
Even the freckles left by the sun remained exactly as they had been.
Unlike himself, who had aged with time…
She remained exactly as she had been when they first met, sleeping peacefully as though lost in a dream.
He quietly placed his hand over hers.
Her cheeks, frozen by an icy chill no ordinary human could withstand, had long since lost all warmth.
“I miss you.”
Standing before the lifeless body of the woman who had died so meaninglessly, Chrom renewed his resolve.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Never allow emotions to overtake reason. Always move toward your goal with a clear mind.
Those were the lessons she had repeated countless times.
Even now, they remained vividly alive within his memory.
‘That doesn’t mean I’ve given up.’
Whether because of lingering regrets or because her memory still haunted them…
Everyone’s heart remained elsewhere.
But none of them had forgotten her.
Holding tightly onto her cold, rigid hand, Chrom whispered,
“I’ll wait for you here… forever.”
If he ever learned where she was…
Then even if he had to conquer the Holy City of Esperia itself, he would go and bring her back.
Knowing full well no answer would ever come…
Chrom remained by Lucy’s frozen side for a very long time.
“Ah-choo!”
A sudden chill ran through Lucy’s body, and she let out a loud sneeze.
“Oh my, Saintess. Are you alright?”
“I’ll bring a warm blanket.”
“Awuwaa… uwaaa…” (No. It’s too hot.)
Although she could still do little more than babble, Cardinal Maria—the undisputed master of childcare—once again understood her perfectly.
“I think she’s saying she’s too warm.”
“Really?”
“Maiya-uaa.” (Maria’s right.)
“…Didn’t the Saintess just say ‘Maria’?”
Strictly speaking, the pronunciation had been completely slurred.
Still…
For some reason, everyone seemed desperately eager to hear her say their own names.
“Hamabubububa.”
“…I must have imagined it.”
To stop them from getting their hopes up, Lucy intentionally babbled nonsense before grabbing the edge of her crib and demanding to be picked up.
“Auu.”
“Would you like to look outside the window?”
Lying in bed all day was driving her crazy.
Cradled in Maria’s arms, Lucy looked outside.
A long procession immediately caught her attention.
“Auu?”
“That? The delegation from Lunafelt you met yesterday suddenly announced they’re leaving today.”
Maria sighed deeply as she gently patted Lucy’s back.
“Come to think of it… one of them had quite a nasty bruise around his eye. I wonder what happened.”
That would be because Lucy’s kick had landed perfectly.
But she decided not to mention that.
“Now that they’ve discovered your existence, we’ll have to reveal the Saintess before they do… but you’re still so young…”
Filled with genuine pity, Maria hugged Lucy tightly.
Maria’s embrace was soft…
Warm…
Plump…
Comforting…
It even smelled faintly of fresh flowers.
Everything—from the way she supported Lucy’s bottom, to the gentle strokes across her back, to her soothing voice—
Combined into the perfect recipe for putting any baby to sleep.
‘No… now isn’t the time.’
Forcing herself to stay awake despite her heavy eyelids, Lucy grabbed Maria’s dangling hair.
“Habama… Habama.”
“You want to see Archbishop Bahaman?”
Lucy nodded.
Even if her words came out as complete gibberish, Maria somehow understood every single one.
Honestly, Lucy wished everyone else realized just how much her life depended on Maria’s miraculous interpretation skills.
Still clinging around Maria’s neck like a cicada hugging a tree, Lucy looked around the room.
The priests were all busy.
Preparing baby food.
Cleaning.
Folding freshly washed diapers.
Getting bathwater ready.
Then…
Standing awkwardly in one corner like a crumpled cardboard box was a young boy.
“Aohau!” (That brat!)
“You mean young Georg IV?”
“Eeoh?” (Georg?)
“He’s a talented child who inherited the name of the legendary Holy Knight Sir Georg. He’ll grow up alongside you and serve as your personal guard.”
“Huh?”
The moment she heard the Fourth, one familiar face flashed through her mind.
Judging by yesterday’s conversation, that burly old man was Georg III.
Which meant…
This boy was Georg IV.
And naturally, Lucy couldn’t help thinking about the incomparably lazy Georg II, who was probably slouching around somewhere just like that even now.
Her head began to ache.
“Audada.” (He doesn’t look anything like him.)
“They say he resembles his mother, but he inherited all of his father’s ability. You can trust him.”
“Is… the Saintess talking about me?”
Having nothing to do and receiving no attention, the boy immediately rushed over the moment he heard his name.
“Don’t worry too much about yesterday. Our Saintess has a very generous heart.”
“Auu.” (No, she doesn’t.)
Lucy waved her tiny hands in protest.
Unfortunately, Maria was looking at Georg instead, so none of it reached her.
Sure, Lucy had used her ultimate move yesterday to save him.
But that had only been to stop Jack Casanova’s dangerously overwhelming pheromones.
It certainly wasn’t because she wanted to help that cheeky little brat.
“Please forgive my rudeness yesterday, Saintess.”
Oddly enough…
The boy who had acted so arrogant yesterday now bowed his head respectfully and sincerely apologized.
‘Ah… now this makes things awkward.’
She was the Great Witch, after all.
Did he really think she was petty enough to hold onto something so trivial?
Instead of answering, Lucy reached out and vigorously ruffled his bright red hair.
“It seems the Saintess truly likes you. Originally, Georg III was supposed to become her bodyguard, but since she disliked the idea so much, we have no choice.”
Well…
If someone had to stay beside her all the time, a handsome boy who took after his mother was certainly preferable to his massive, musclebound father.
Though, to be precise…
The real problem was that this kid looked far too much like him.
Not long after Lunafelt had first been established…
The Temple had sent its strongest Holy Knight to suppress the growing influence of the mages.
The infamous red-haired Georg II.
His greatest weapon wasn’t divine power.
It was pure, overwhelming physical strength.
The mages, whose stamina was practically nonexistent, had struggled desperately.
Eventually, Lucifella herself stepped onto the front lines and defeated him.
No matter how extraordinary a human might be…
They were no match for someone who had reincarnated ninety-nine times.
“I love you, Lucifella! Please make me your slave!”
The moment those words rang out from the defeated Holy Knight as he was dragged away in chains…
Even Chrom completely lost his composure.
