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Chapter 34
I think I finally understood why, after the ancient wars, every nation tried to curb the influence of elemental magic.
“It’s such a powerful force; better suppress it while you can,” that must have been their thinking.
Elemental magic really is incredible.
[Hehe, didn’t I tell you? Elementals are magnificent, and so is elemental magic.]
Yeah… it really is amazing.
I lounged in the backyard, repeatedly practicing the abilities of the elementals. Something about the speed of casting mattered—or so I had heard.
“Ah, these are the flowers Kalian pruned.”
As I wandered through the backyard, I glanced at the section Kalian had tended. Mixing his golden hair with his blue eyes produced a sense of calm that settled the heart.
I inhaled the fresh scent of the grass. My mind felt completely relaxed, pleasantly at ease. It was almost like a phytoncide effect.
Lazily basking in the feeling, Shuiban suddenly leapt up and snuggled against me. The softness of him seeped into my palms.
As I stroked Shuiban endlessly, a wave of happiness washed over me. Could this be what true healing felt like?
[Your expression is terrible, Lasha.]
Suddenly, Libenta spoke up. I tapped his beak gently and said:
Right, Libby. When are you going to become cute?
[Li… Libby?]
You said you’d become cute someday. But your evolution depends on my imagination, right? What if I imagine you in a non-cute way?
Libenta wagged his tail, seemingly pleased that I had given him a nickname.
[Hmm, hmm. There’s a way. If I use my oral abilities to leave the “cuteness” in you…]
This guy’s cheating again.
[Truth isn’t always reality, Lasha.]
I remembered how I had shared my past life and original-story experiences while hiding some truths, and I flinched a little.
Fine. Then I’ll just train.
[I want another butterfly.]
[Hmm, can you make me a swimming pool?]
Sure, sure.
It was a joyful evening with the elementals.
The Casildon Count family was not originally a line of sword-wielders.
Everything they handled was mediocre, nothing stood out. They were always treated as minor nobility, often ignored or dismissed.
The Casildon family only rose to fame with the sword—and later the rank of marquess—thanks to the current marquess’s father.
The young Marquess of Casildon brewed her favorite tea, hibiscus tea, in the garden’s orangery.
The red liquid always brought her peace.
Its color resembled the hair of the man she both loved and hated:
Damn Vioress Le Dine Hagaia.
Even thinking of him, her hands did not tremble. The tea stayed perfectly within the cup, as if by instinct.
Perfect etiquette. Though her hands bore calluses, unbefitting a lady but earned from swordsmanship.
Creak—
A tall man entered the orangery, wrapped in a halo of light.
It was teleportation magic. The young marquess swallowed the involuntary smile that had crept into her lips.
Was it so difficult to arrive with the imperial seal?
Official symbols would have sufficed more than rumors.
But the moment she saw him, her complaints melted away like snow.
“Martina, long time no see.”
Martina de Casildon, young Marquess of Casildon, smiled gently at Vioress.
A celestial smile any man would fall for.
“You still look robust, Your Grace.”
“And you are beautiful too. Enough to make the hearts of many ladies in society stir.”
Martina bit the inside of her cheek, unsure whether he was praising or teasing her. Probably the latter.
She handed him the teapot, and he grasped it with one hand. The warmth of the teapot seeped into his hand.
“Do you want me to pour it?”
“We’re not exactly on friendly terms, Your Grace.”
“Friendly terms…”
Vioress poured the tea into the cup. The liquid was red, with a faint purplish hue.
“Shall we start with the hibiscus tea?”
“Have you never seen such tales? Some generals boiled the heads of their enemies into soup after beheading them.”
“Trying to get arrested for insulting the emperor?”
Martina set down her empty cup silently.
“Vioress Le Dine Hagaia.”
“Martina de Casildon.”
Their eyes met in the air.
“You’re really annoying.”
“That’s obvious, isn’t it?”
“Thank Recalin for that.”
Vioress tilted his head.
“I believe you have no friends either.”
“What do you mean? I have plenty.”
“Not friends… more like followers, right?”
Vioress looked straight at Martina’s glaring face. The same expression as always. He chuckled, lifting his cold, untouched teacup.
“…?! What are you—!”
Swoosh—!
The red tea poured over Vioress’s head in an instant, unstoppable.
His white shirt turned crimson. His jacket, too, soaked deeply in red.
Martina jumped up and snatched the teacup from his hand. Vioress smiled, revealing his teeth.
“Your Grace.”
Martina was about to order a servant to bring a towel—but Vioress had already stopped her.
“No need.”
“What do you mean? Pouring tea over someone’s head—is this sane?”
Watching Martina’s flustered expression, Vioress recalled someone.
That woman had always been calm, even in sudden situations. Somehow, she seemed perfectly matched for Martina.
“You should meet someone, Martina.”
“Who?”
“Lasha Verni. Now, I’ll be leaving.”
So that’s why he didn’t come by carriage. Martina watched Vioress shake off the teleportation scroll’s moisture.
An endlessly frustrating connection. From the first time she held a sword as a child because of him, to her current rank and putting down the sword…
Vioress tore the teleportation scroll.
“See you during the social season.”
May, when the Merden trees bloom, marked the social season. Martina clenched her fist tightly, channeling her aura into it, and slammed the table.
Bang—!
The table split in two, the teacup and tray shattered.
A waiting servant rushed over.
“Miss!”
“Sorry. Clean it up.”
Martina gripped the soft fabric of her dress. The aura wrapped around her fist tore the cloth with a rustling sound.
She gazed resentfully at Vioress’s disappearing figure.
“You want me to meet a stranger without knowing what kind of threat I’m under?”
Martina covered her head with her hands, groaning. So many responsibilities rested on her as the head of the household.
Who the hell is Lasha Verni?
Martina crushed the broken teacup in her hand, reducing it to powder.
Lasha Verni. Lasha Verni.
She would find him, no matter what.
Her eyes burned with determination.
Kalian looked at his reflection in the mirror.
A golden halo enveloped his head.
He raised his arm to touch the mirror. Cold sweat broke out all over him.
He felt a burning sensation and looked at the back of his left hand.
A throbbing pain came intermittently each night, then vanished.
Each time the pain disappeared, a line appeared on his hand. No fever accompanied it.
Seven lines were now etched on the back of Kalian’s left hand.
A perfect pattern of the Seven-Star Seal—signifying his status as a deputy.
It was still hollow inside, though, so he didn’t feel complete.
From prior discussions with Recalin and studying materials about the deputy and divine power, he understood.
Once this seal completed, he would be elevated as the successor to the deputy. The current deputy was old but still active. He’d also receive extensive training. That was why he had been given etiquette materials in advance.
His siblings would enjoy a better life. That was good.
But would it mean leaving the mansion? He hadn’t yet received an answer from Lasha.
Kalian hoped the seal would complete as slowly as possible.
He stared at the halo of blinding light, so intense he could barely see himself.
As he watched the vibrating halo, he suddenly remembered Lasha’s eyes.
Golden light encircled Lasha’s pupils, with brown covering the rest. Under sunlight, they shone like a blazing sun.
The sun…
A star, after all.
“Hmm, morning already, brother?”
“No, Paul. Sleep more.”
Kalian gently stroked Paul and covered him with a blanket. Paul had slept in a starfish pose and had been pushed to the edge of the bed.
As the halo’s light gradually faded, Kalian exhaled and walked toward the window.
From there, he could see the backyard.
He also had a new section to tend, assigned by the steward.
Though he couldn’t confess or give flowers, he was glad to at least see Lasha sometimes.
Leaning on the window, he noticed a figure. His mouth slightly opened.
It was Lasha, surrounded by the plants she tended.
What was she doing now?
It didn’t matter. Kalian only wished her gaze would eventually settle fully on him.
He smiled happily under the cascading starlight.
Somehow, it felt like Lasha smiled back.
