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Chapter : 04
After receiving Lisa’s “treatment” that wasn’t exactly a treatment,
she went out for a while to assess the situation and then came back—
this time with food in her hands.
It was food far more carefully prepared than what I usually ate.
“Even the children on the streets gathered for Mercy Day are eating the same food. The Duke himself ordered it,” she said.
“Really? That’s such a relief.”
I smiled, pretending not to know anything.
It seemed she had thoroughly gone through the temple’s donation ledgers.
‘With so many children being sponsored, at least the first digits of the funds must have changed.’
One of my goals had been achieved. I happily spooned up the soup.
Yet for some reason, Lisa’s expression was not cheerful.
When I tilted my head, she spoke with a heavy heart.
“I’m sorry, milady.”
“Huh? What for?”
“I should have stepped forward first, as an adult, before you did…”
She was probably recalling the time I had explained everything in detail before the priests.
Even the nobles had been visibly uncomfortable, so I could only imagine how she felt.
“No, Lisa. Don’t think like that.”
“…Huh?”
I blinked and responded firmly.
“You don’t have to step in for me.”
After Lisa died, I realized one thing:
there’s nothing sadder than losing someone precious.
And I never wanted to experience that heartbreak again. Once was enough.
Of course, I couldn’t say that aloud, so I spoke in a deliberately bright voice.
“But the Duke already punished him. Bert got scolded terribly by the Duke, so he won’t be able to bother me again. Right?”
Of course, that was nonsense.
Losing money and being humiliated in front of the nobles would only make his torment worse, not less.
Lisa must have known that too.
“…Yes. I suppose so,” she said, forcing a smile.
She was trying to keep me from feeling hurt. Lisa truly was a kind person.
‘But Lisa… it will happen.’
I would make it happen.
Clenching my fist, I bit lightly into the bread, like a victorious athlete biting their medal. It was the bread that had delivered justice to Bert.
“Ouch!”
“Ah, milady! Are you okay?”
Of course, it was so hard my teeth almost broke—a secret only Lisa and I knew.
That night.
While everyone slept, I quietly slipped out of my room.
I headed to Agnito’s library. I had something to check.
Perhaps because it was Mercy Day, the servants had left early—the library door opened easily.
‘It should be around here… there!’
At just the right height, I found what I had been looking for.
It was a history book of the four ducal families, documenting Agnito’s past heads and their direct descendants.
In the current empire, four ducal families, each with unique abilities, protect it under the imperial household:
- East: Agnito of Spring, who can hear the voice of God.
- South: Hellaira of Summer, who wields the power of wind.
- West: Rustig of Autumn, who wields the power of earth.
These three families had abilities granted by God.
Meanwhile, the North, Stukkia of Winter, had the power of darkness—not a divine ability.
This darkness was magic, different from abilities. Abilities came from God, while magic was an earthly force, often born from evil energy. One could lose their sanity if consumed by it.
It was a powerful and malicious force.
It made sense that Stukkia once held power rivaling the imperial family.
‘Of course, that was a long time ago.’
I closed the book. No ability related to reincarnation could be found.
It was the result I expected.
If someone had the reincarnation ability, they would be strong enough to rival the dukes, possibly even the throne.
‘Still… it really is like that kid said.’
I recalled fragments of the past that were now gone.
It was when I had just turned thirteen.
The Agnito household was bustling ahead of Mercy Day.
They needed to impress the temple and the imperial family, so they even opened their personal vaults to prepare grandly.
That day, orphans on the streets could eat well and call priests and nobles “parents.”
But not me. Being unknown, I could not enjoy delicious food nor call anyone my parents like the other orphans.
It wasn’t unusual—it was just an ordinary day for me. But…
“Wow! Thank you!”
“Linda, did you thank Duke Agnito?”
“Thank you, Duke!”
The laughter of other children sounded so loud.
I envied them so much.
I was so bitter that even my only ally, Lisa, was gone…
“Sniff… sob…”
Late at night, when everyone was deeply asleep, I quietly cried alone.
Thud.
Something fell into the room.
A small bundle of paper had slipped through the broken window.
I crawled over and opened it.
[You’re being noisy.]
The message was brief, written neatly, as if to the point.
I got up and looked around, but no one was visible outside the dark window.
I stared at the note for a moment and then took up a pen.
I had at least learned to write in case I ever needed to manifest abilities.
[Sorry for being noisy.]
Sniffling, I wrote back to hold back my tears, then opened the window and tossed the note outside.
Still, no movement appeared outside.
Hoping to meet someone, I restrained myself again.
After standing there for a while and returning to my bed,
Thud.
Something else fell.
Under my writing, another note had been added.
[Crying looks really ugly.]
They saw me!
I quickly opened the window and leaned out.
Yet no figure could be seen.
I hastily wrote back:
[Can you see me?]
Worried they wouldn’t reply, I stepped back from the window.
After a while.
Thud.
A reply came:
[I can see.]
I replied earnestly:
[Then why don’t you show yourself?]
Thud.
[Crying looks ugly.]
My heart sank.
[I won’t cry anymore. Can you show up?]
I quickly sent the reply, leaned out, and wiped my face,
but no response came, no matter how long I waited.
Exhausted, I returned to bed and finally fell asleep.
I didn’t have time to think about the notes for several days.
That night, someone had completely destroyed the Agnito armory.
After the Saint’s power disappeared, the Duke had tried to expand his influence through weapon trade.
But since the attack occurred right before Mercy Day, a thorough investigation was impossible.
Everyone in the Duke’s household had to stay quiet to avoid his wrath.
After several days, late at night,
Thud.
Another note arrived at the window.
[It’s quiet today.]
“…!”
A reply came. I responded joyfully:
[I didn’t cry today.]
[That’s normal.]
[I won’t cry anymore.]
[Okay.]
And so our correspondence began.
[My name is Hanisha. And you?]
[I don’t have a name.]
[Then how old? I’m 13.]
[Older than you.]
I had shared everything about myself, but they said nothing—no name, age, appearance.
All I could tell was that we were roughly the same age.
[Thanks for coming today too. I’m glad I can see you often.]
[I can’t come often.]
[I know. Still, thanks. I actually… always wished I could have a friend my age.]
It was heartfelt.
I thought the conversation went well compared to the first day.
But that was the last exchange that day.
Later, I learned that if they were unwilling or the situation impossible, they simply wouldn’t reply.
‘So stubborn…’
I felt a little annoyed but didn’t ask anything else after that day.
It was my first friend my own age, and that alone was enough.
