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~Chapter 13~
The one who put a curse on Elodie abandoned her in Terranolia, the human habitat.
Because of the curse she had become a real mouse — even her lifespan had been shortened to match.
In other words, within a limited time she had to find a human who would truly love a mouse and kiss her to break the curse.
‘That’s just telling me to die.’
No — it was worse than that.
What human would truly love a mouse? What human would press their lips to a creature they consider a carrier of disease?
They might as well have killed her cleanly.
To hang impossible conditions over her and subject her to hope torture — that was cruel.
Even the devil would have cried.
‘Did Mom and Dad wander and look for me forever after I died?’
It felt like pure malice.
Why go through all this trouble only to inflict hope torture?
‘And why turn me into an actual mouse?’
Even if the culprit wanted to insult the head priest, calling Latson’s essence a mere ratling seems deliberate.
“Look at your daughter — instead of receiving the gods’ salvation, she’s left to die like a worthless bug with no one to reach out to.” Perhaps they wanted to mock them like that.
‘Leaving me alive instead of killing me on the spot was definitely a reckless decision.’
They even cursed the entire Latson family but spared the sole heir.
It’s like winning the game and then imposing a restriction on yourself.
The culprit must have known that.
Still, they couldn’t resist the urge to mock.
‘Maybe the culprit bears a grudge against the Latson family.’
Or perhaps it was envy… something of that sort, an ugly emotion.
Even if the culprit wasn’t that basilisk, it was highly likely they were a beastkin.
It would be rare for someone from another continent or species to suddenly carry a grudge against an acting priest from elsewhere.
‘They probably didn’t expect I’d come back in time after I died.’
Nor would they think an angelic person would kiss a mouse without hesitation.
Thanks to that, I clung to life like a bulldog.
‘You gave me that grudge, so I’ll return it to you as-is.’
Elodie decided to gratefully accept the miracles the fairy grandmother and Sera had given her, one after the other.
“Gur-um, thank you very much!” (local mouse-speech exclamation)
“Cheek—!”
“Squeak, mwah!”
“Chit-chit!”
Elodie bounced and waved cheerily to the field mice as she greeted them.
“Wahhh….”
“Dad, stop crying. Sniff.”
While she comforted him as he sobbed, Lady Latson spoke to Sera.
“Sera, may I call you that?”
Because it was the mice’s language, Sera — a human — could not understand; the Duke Valkyrisen translated.
“You saved my daughter. I can never repay the debt I owe you.”
“Oh, no, really.”
Sera waved her hands frantically and blushed with embarrassment.
“Elodie was the one who helped me first. And I don’t have any special power that broke the curse — I don’t really remember doing anything remarkable…”
“So she goes by Elodie, it seems.”
“Oh, that’s the name I gave her temporarily. I’m sorry for calling her without permission.”
“No.”
Lady Latson hurriedly calmed the flustered Sera with a laugh.
“If my daughter likes the name Elodie more, then she is Elodie. You have given her a new life.”
Isn’t that so?
She looked at Elodie and asked.
Elodie, who was happy that she could be Sera’s Elodie both in her past life and this one, nodded.
“Yup, I like it.”
But then—
“My original name is important too. Tell me. (My original name is important. Tell me.)”
Lady Latson met her gaze like she was looking at something precious, smiling gently.
“Gracia Latson.”
A name that sounded almost too elegant and holy.
‘My original name was Gracia.’
She now had two names that were not “mouse.”
‘Gracia, and Elodie.’
I’ll cherish both.
“Then Sera, please take good care of our daughter.”
“……! I’ll carry her forever.”
No, that’s not necessary.
Elodie hugged Sera tightly and pouted.
It was then—
“Elodie, take this.”
“Hm?”
The acting priest Latson — who had been sobbing as though all the moisture had been wrung from his body — hiccuped and glanced behind him.
At his signal, the field mice lugged a jewel-encrusted box over with effort.
Elodie took the clearly precious box and opened it.
Inside was—
“A manty? (A hammer?)”
“It’s a sacred hammer.”
A palm-sized small hammer. It was crafted in platinum and was so beautiful it could pass for a holy relic used in worship.
But why a hammer?
“What do you use this for?”
“Only the successor who carries Latson’s bloodline may own the hammer.”
So this was Latson family power…
‘A sacred hammer (physical)?’
But even if she tried to hit something with it, it didn’t look like it would do any damage.
Could a tiny hammer be spicy?
“Can I already have this?” she asked.
“If I kept it….”
He trailed off, forced a bitter smile, and waved his head as if it were nothing.
“There’s no immediate use, and one day I must pass it on to you.”
Elodie looked at her father with a complicated expression.
‘Dad, if you’re going to act like that, just plainly tell them you can’t serve as acting priest because of the curse.’
But she was five years old.
A bright, innocent, five-year-old!
Elodie began self-persuasion.
Play dumb. Play dumb…
“If you ever find yourself in danger, try tapping anything with this. It will guide you to a safe place.”
“Wasn’t it supposed to hit people? (Wasn’t it for hitting people?)”
“……why would you think that. The Latson family ability is healing.”
When people see a hammer they usually think of swinging it.
She had thought the best ‘treatment’ might be attack.
Why, you know… for when someone is hopelessly beyond communication. For example, a prince.
Or another prince….
“Do not swing it at people. Never use it on others.”
“…….”
“Daughter, are you listening?”
“Yea….”
Elodie answered halfheartedly.
“What else besides moving to a safe place?”
If the family’s power could pass down the acting priest seat, it should be something major.
Suddenly the acting priest scrubbed his hands over his face with both hands.
The field mouse wiped his tear tracks away with quick grooming, and then spoke.
“Little one.”
In a voice that was completely serious.
“Apart from using it to escape in danger, never use it.”
That meant it could do something greater.
“People’s lives are unpredictable. Even that Valkyrisen may face a moment when he’s not safe. This is for that eventuality.”
Oh…
‘How did he know?’
From the look of this Valkyrisen, his power was so great that everyone would grant him a thousand years of glory.
Maybe the priest sensed something.
‘But sending me to a Valkyrisen so readily doesn’t look like he can foresee the future with precision.’
Perhaps, as a field mouse, his instinct to detect danger was just very well developed.
“If that moment comes, promise your father you will run away using it, without doing anything dangerous.”
“…….”
“Quickly.”
“Yesss….”
Handing over an obviously powerful object and telling her to only use it to run away felt odd.
Elodie answered reluctantly.
‘Good thing I didn’t ask who put that curse on the Latsons after all.’
If she’d said that out loud, she might have been watched closely, or locked up to prevent dangerous acts.
The sacred hammer would have been seized immediately.
‘Anyway, even if I asked, it wouldn’t have helped.’
If Latson really knew the culprit, would they have remained so passive?
No matter how much a mouse, he was still an acting priest — he could have petitioned the emperor or other houses and overturned things.
‘I could identify the suspect because I came from the future.’
From now on, the Valkyrisen would investigate whether that person was truly the culprit.
