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Chapter 21
Recalin looked at Rasha, who wore a calm expression.
The aide, her hair slightly tousled, had the same deep, enigmatic eyes she’d had during the interview—eyes that only someone with thoughts of their own could possess.
Recalin then shifted his gaze slightly to Kalion, who was shaking his head with a flustered expression.
High Priest.
It was a keyword that had suddenly surfaced.
The High Priest was the conduit for the words of the god Lire, the head of all priests, the king of the Holy Kingdom of Belkih, and the greatest healer alive.
That was the position of High Priest. And Kalion—this man before him—might be one such candidate. Recalin’s eyes gleamed with interest. Indeed, both the current High Priest and previous ones had recalled experiencing fever-like heat that occurred only in the left hand before they became High Priest.
Kalion had already experienced such heat twice.
Recalin found himself picturing a future where Kalion became High Priest. After closing his eyes and thinking carefully for a moment, he concluded that this future was highly plausible.
Soon, his eyes sparkled for another reason.
Historically, High Priests had always come from the Holy Kingdom of Belkih. But what if, this time, one emerged from the Hagaia Empire?
That would give the Hagaia Empire enormous influence over Belkih. Various scenarios flashed through Recalin’s mind—sending more priests to the Empire, expanding the range of privileges granted, and so on.
Belkih placed absolute faith in the High Priest as the mouthpiece of God Lire. To control the High Priest was, in effect, to control an entire kingdom. Even if the land itself wasn’t particularly fertile, the power of religion could not be ignored.
However, Recalin shook his head and dismissed those thoughts. This wasn’t something he could decide on his own. First, it had to be reported—to his closest friend and the supreme ruler of the Empire, the Emperor.
The more certain, the better. I should report it once the mark appears.
Dragging in a commoner and claiming he was destined to become High Priest based solely on fever would hardly convince anyone.
Though His Majesty would believe it.
Recalin briefly glanced at the deepened shadow.
After finishing his deliberation, Recalin lifted his head and looked at both Kalion and Rasha.
He parted his lips.
“I believe the aide is correct. The possibility is certainly high.”
A rosy flush spread across Rasha’s cheeks. She tightly grasped the back of Kalion’s hand.
Recalin retrieved an old, published memoir of a High Priest from his study.
“I don’t know how many more episodes of fever there will be, but it’s said that the fever continues until the mark is complete. The High Priest two generations ago experienced it twelve times.”
Rasha muttered to herself that in the original story, it only happened four times.
But since she herself had already altered the course of events, she couldn’t be sure it would still be four this time.
“So if this happens again, come to me immediately, Miss Ripe. Any time will do.”
With that, Recalin rose, lifting the knee he had been kneeling on.
He dispelled the frost clinging to the wall and threw the window wide open, letting warm air flow in.
When Kalion looked unsteady, Rasha supported him and helped him stand.
“May I escort him?”
“Go ahead.”
Recalin paused while gathering his documents and watched Rasha leave the room.
What he saw in her eyes were emotions like worry and affection.
Similar emotions lingered in Kalion’s eyes as well.
Recalin felt puzzled.
He couldn’t understand why she kept bringing up Kalion whenever she spoke to him.
Moreover, it felt less like a request and more like… matchmaking.
Of course, Recalin wasn’t strictly heterosexual or homosexual—he could be with either—but even so, he didn’t consider himself good partner material to begin with.
So what kind of plan was she concocting with that small head of hers?
Recalin smiled faintly and decided to keep watching. Even her smallest gestures were never boring.
Standing in the warm breeze, Recalin looked down.
Rasha shimmered in the sunlight like pure gold.
I rubbed my eyelids, weighed down by heavy fatigue.
Shuiban was kneading at my chest.
Overwhelmed by his uncontrollable cuteness, I petted Shuiban to recharge my energy, then opened the newspaper with a blissful expression.
A massive headline on the front page caught my eye.
“Emperor Declares His Return”
“Huh?”
Wondering if I still wasn’t fully awake, I asked Arhana to splash me with cold water.
[It’s cold.]
Splash!
“Pwah!”
[I’ll dry you.]
Even after being blasted by Riventa’s wind and regaining full clarity, the headline was the same.
With trembling hands, I read the article.
The Emperor, who had been staying at a detached palace in Hraen, would return to the imperial palace and resume governance—that was the main point.
They’d even done an interview.
In the illustration, drawn with meticulous care, the Emperor had his eyes wide open and wore a smile.
His neatly waxed bangs were slicked back cleanly.
What mattered now was that the Emperor was returning to the capital.
I felt my sanity crumbling. To put it bluntly—mental breakdown.
[Rasha, are you alright?]
‘I-I-I’m fine.’
[You don’t look fine at all.]
I bit my lower lip hard and sprang to my feet.
Then I approached Recalin, who was also reading the newspaper.
“D-Duke, His Majesty the Emperor is coming back.”
“That’s good news. He’s returning earlier than last year.”
I tried to suppress it, but my voice trembled slightly.
Recalin answered calmly. His relaxed attitude made my insides twist in frustration.
But I was probably the only one feeling this way.
For Recalin, his boss returning probably just meant faster work progress.
I nearly started biting my nails from anxiety, but forced myself to maintain a composed, civilized demeanor.
Fortunately, Recalin seemed absorbed in the newspaper and didn’t notice.
“Then… will we be able to meet His Majesty directly this time?”
“This upcoming regular meeting would be difficult schedule-wise. You’ll be able to see him starting from the next one.”
That was at least some relief.
Still, I couldn’t fully relax.
When a deadline that had a month left suddenly shrinks to two weeks, anyone would feel like I did.
We’d finally just managed to create opportunities to see each other more often—and now a massive enemy appeared out of nowhere.
I staggered back to my seat.
I managed to grip my pen, but my face was still pale and the words on the documents wouldn’t register.
Recalin even pointed it out.
There was a reason I was this worried.
In the original story, the Emperor was a shameless flirting maniac.
With looks, ability, power, and wealth all backing him up, what couldn’t he do?
He charged straight ahead without hesitation.
For example, in the original description:
“Viollese held out a massive bouquet to Kalion. Kalion carefully accepted it.
The heavy weight made his slender arms tremble for a moment.
Thanking Viollese, Kalion brought the bouquet closer to his face to smell it.
But what met his eyes were gemstones meticulously crafted into the shapes of flowers.
Rubies, emeralds, sapphires, lapis lazuli, pearls, garnets, pink tourmaline…
It seemed as though every gemstone in existence was inside the bouquet.
No wonder it was heavy, Kalion sighed as he looked at Viollese.
This was money-wasting on an absurd level.
Viollese, however, merely smiled broadly, showing his teeth, and said he’d gift a new bouquet if this one wasn’t to his liking.”
That was mild, compared to the rest of the Emperor’s antics.
…Now you understand why I’m worried.
As I picked at my lunch, I racked my brain.
Why was the Emperor returning earlier than in the original story?
All I’d done was get directly involved with Kalion, try to pair Recalin and Kalion together, befriend Emma and Leona, and form contracts with spirits.
Aside from that, I’d just worked diligently like any normal office worker.
Could it just be a change of heart?
After all, people say you can measure ten fathoms of water, but never a human heart.
Human emotions are always variables.
And why weren’t Recalin and Kalion falling in love?
Even if they’d had a fated meeting in the original story, relationships weren’t one-hit wonders—they required repeated opportunities.
And I was providing those opportunities.
Opportunities to talk, opportunities for skinship—everything. So why wasn’t there even a hint of romance?
I sighed deeply and scratched the back of my head.
With a gloomy expression, I buried my face in my knees.
Still, thinking positively, there were two weeks left.
All I could do was try my absolute best.
And now was exactly when I desperately needed the spirits’ help.
I decided to train harder and evolve them.
Reading my thoughts, Riventa flapped her wings excitedly, scattering multicolored feathers.
If we’d been inside the office, the documents would’ve gone flying.
That evening after work, with my stomach full from a late dinner, I went out to the backyard and faced the spirits standing in a line.
[Rasha, since that is your will, we’ll begin practical training from now on.]
‘Nice—practical training!’
[Choose and cast one of our abilities. That will become the ability you primarily use.]
‘W-what?’
The first ability I ever cast would become my main one?
Seeing my shock, Riventa spoke.
[Using an ability for the first time isn’t easy. Don’t worry unnecessarily. Recall the explanations you heard, imagine the sensation of the element you felt. Realize the image in your mind.]
In the cool evening breeze, I decided to cast the power of flow first.
Feel the wind. Calm my heart slowly, like the protagonist of a folk tale.
I stretched my hand forward, sensing the breeze.
What surfaced in my mind were overlapping memories of my past and present lives.
Reading words, finding joy within them, reproducing and savoring them over and over…
And then delivering them through the mouth.
It didn’t matter whether the story was a comedy or a tragedy.
Someone’s life was a story, and stories were someone’s life.
Carried by a floating exhilaration, I unknowingly smiled and whispered.
