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Chapter 20
“Sorry, it’s been so long, I’m mixing up the keys. Hold on…”
Mirea fumbled through the jingling keyring for a while, then turned to Aris with an awkward mumble. But Aris wasn’t just waiting quietly. As Mirea struggled, Aris scanned the area, brushed her hand over the gate, narrowed her eyes, and gave the lock a light tap.
Click.
The large lock clicked open the moment Aris touched it, producing a metallic sound.
“Oh, it opened.”
She murmured nonchalantly, slightly impressed. At the same time, tiny shards of light burst from the house and scattered in all directions—the preservation magic cast over the house had been released along with the unlocking. Mirea’s eyes widened in shock, and she dropped the entire key bundle without realizing it.
“I was going to open it anyway, so does it really matter if I used a key or just opened it myself? I’m just a little impatient. Excuse me.”
Without hesitation, Aris tossed aside the now-useless lock and boldly opened the gate, walking right in.
“Wait—! Hey, Aris, how did you even do that?!”
Frozen momentarily, Mirea finally grasped the situation and scrambled after Aris.
“What was that? How did you do it?”
“What?”
“I mean, how did you open the lock?”
“I just used magic.”
Mirea tilted her head, piecing together what she knew.
“This house has preservation and security magic cast personally by Sephiros. It’s set to reject any foreign magical interference. And you opened it without the proper key?”
“Yep.”
“So, how?!”
“It’s not that hard. Sephiros structured his spell formula to be complex and sturdy—so if one part fails, others compensate. But spells like that are prone to overload when too much mana is forced in. And if the pushing force is stronger than the rejecting one, it’s inevitable, right? So, I just…”
Aris snapped her fingers, and with a crisp sound, a blue spark danced from her fingertips.
“…pushed it in.”
She meant her mana. Mirea muttered as she tried to make sense of that.
“You’re saying… you pushed in so much mana that it exceeded the threshold of Sephiros’ spell?”
“In other words, yes.”
Aris replied lightly. Mirea’s jaw dropped.
Among the Derkydes, Aris was known to possess a historically immense amount of mana, but she never imagined Aris could overwhelm a spell crafted by Sephiros purely through brute force. She hadn’t even deconstructed it—just flooded it with sheer magical power. It was a ridiculously brute-force method.
Seeing it with her own eyes, Mirea found it fascinating. What a peculiar person.
“So… how long has this house been abandoned, anyway?”
Aris placed a hand on her hip, surveying the garden that resembled a jungle. Only then did Mirea realize where she was. She had been so caught up in the unexpected that she blindly followed Aris through the gate and into the overgrown yard.
The overgrown grass brushed against her hands. Looking down at her feet, then ahead, she saw a wooden front door styled with decorative tiles, like the gate. Mirea murmured absentmindedly.
“About five years, I guess.”
“Well, it makes sense. You can cast preservation magic on inanimate objects, but casting it on living plants is more complicated. So you left this part alone…”
Aris let out a small laugh.
“Don’t tell me… the two of us have to clean all this up?”
“Uh… yeah. Just the two of us.”
“Really? Isn’t that a bit unfair? Can’t you let me off the hook since I’m just a guest?”
She took a few steps toward the entrance, then paused and returned when she noticed Mirea still standing frozen.
“What are you doing, homeowner? Come on.”
Aris gently grabbed Mirea’s arm. She didn’t use any real force or even hold her firmly, yet Mirea was pulled along passively. The touch flowed from her arm to her hand, fingers slightly warmer than hers curling around it. Though Aris hadn’t asked, it felt like she understood the emotions Mirea was carrying.
Aris had become acutely sensitive due to her upbringing and the situations she’d faced. Mirea had a general sense of that. Even if Aris didn’t know exactly what Mirea was afraid of, she definitely knew she was hesitating.
But what do you even know? What do you understand about me to act like this?
Even so, Mirea didn’t feel like pulling her hand away.
Aris walked to the center of the garden, brushing aside the overgrowth. The path from the gate to the front door had long since vanished beneath waist-high grass. Thanks to Aris carving a way through, Mirea could follow behind without getting caught in it.
Unlike the gate, the front door was locked with only a simple physical latch. Aris politely stepped aside, letting Mirea do the honors. But as she patted her pockets, Mirea realized she had dropped the keys at the gate.
After excusing herself, she hurried back, picked up the dropped keyring, and returned to the entrance. And there, in the garden that was now hers, stood a person. Not someone from memory, but someone new.
The grass had grown wildly to match the height of the person, creating an odd but striking scene. The wind stirred the black braid that swung behind him. Though the plants were overgrown, they still bloomed with spring flowers, their tender green leaves swaying gently.
Impatient even with waiting a moment, Aris had begun weaving wildflower stems into a bracelet. Once it was long enough, she considered tossing it aside, but instead beckoned to Mirea from behind a low wall. As she approached, Aris caught her wrist and tied the flower bracelet around it.
“I picked your flowers without permission, so this is my peace offering. Can I skip the yard work now?”
“What? You think this is enough?”
Aris gave a light shrug.
“I might only stay a few days. It seems unfair to be roped into manual labor.”
“This kind of trick… it’s the kind of thing market peddlers used to do. Don’t you think it’s a little beneath a former duke’s heir?”
“And what about murdering all your relatives? Was that dignified?”
Aris thought she was joking, but Mirea wasn’t sure how to take it. She fell silent, and Aris interpreted the silence as agreement.
The stems were delicate, easy to snap with even the slightest pressure, so Mirea lowered her arm carefully to avoid damaging them.
Once inside, they stood awkwardly at the entrance. Aris felt out of place since it wasn’t her home, while Mirea was overwhelmed with nostalgia. With a strange tone, she finally spoke.
“Ta-da! What do you think?”
“Nice place. So… where do I sleep?”
Aris, after a quick scan of the layout, casually plopped onto the sofa in the living room as if it were her own. She had decided to shamelessly embrace her position. Holding back out of pride didn’t benefit anyone, so why not just go all in?
To others, Aris might have seemed like someone born with a shameless streak, but from her perspective, she thought herself decently modest.
They were currently in Roxane, a small town on the eastern edge of the Roamena continent, within the Republic of Serokin. Though small, the town bustled more than expected, as it was home to the headquarters of the Rashvalen Association.
Traditional Roxane homes usually had kitchens, dining areas, and living rooms on the first floor, with bedrooms starting from the second. This house followed the same format, albeit with modern renovations.
As Aris scanned the house from the sofa, she noticed something odd—one wall looked newer than the rest. It wasn’t too obvious, but certain parts of the house felt freshly rebuilt or reinforced.
Without even asking Mirea, Aris could guess why: the house had been damaged by monsters five years ago and later restored.
Watching Aris sprawled on the sofa, Mirea decided it was time to stop drowning in memories. Even though Aris wasn’t explicitly prying, it felt like her emotions were being read too easily, leaving her exposed and embarrassed.
Leaving Aris on the couch, Mirea roamed the house, opening drawers, cabinets, wardrobes—anything with a door. Mentally, she began organizing what they’d need.
Most of the furniture and belongings were usable with a bit of cleaning. Her own luggage was still back at her dorm, and she planned to use the excuse of Aris having no clothes to extort some money from Sephiros. Though, to be honest, plenty of clean, wearable clothes remained in the house.
Thanks to the preservation magic, aside from the garden, there wasn’t much actual cleaning to be done inside.
