WFMW 15

Chapter 15

Then You’ll Die Young

“I’m going to the garden. You should go inside.”

That’s what I meant to say — but instead of heading toward the front door, Cedar began walking alongside me.

It felt strange, like I was accompanied by some gigantic golem.

‘Ugh, why am I getting nervous?’

Was it because he was physically so powerful that I could never win against him?
Or was it the overwhelming presence that came with being Cedar Granite himself?

‘Still, just how much mana does he have for his magical distortion to be that strong? If he’d let me, I’d love to measure it.’

Of course, he’d never allow it.

Both sorcerers and sword-users treat their internal mana reserves as trade secrets. Still, I kept that little wish tucked away in my heart.

Each step we took crunched faintly against the gravel — the only sound between us. Then Cedar broke the silence first.

“…Why the garden all of a sudden? You finally decided to exercise? You never come out of your burrow like a mole.”

He really didn’t know how to say things nicely. A mole? Seriously?

‘Well, he’s not wrong.’

I did live like one. Even if I didn’t have to pretend to be bedridden, I probably wouldn’t come downstairs from the second floor much anyway.

I was the type who found peace staying in my own little space.

“Why would I exercise? As long as I’m alive, I will never willingly do anything resembling exercise.”

Cedar’s eyes flickered uneasily at my answer. He folded his arms and let out a long sigh.

That furrowed brow told me he had a mountain of nagging words ready to spill.

But all he said was one sentence:

“Then you’ll die young.”

That was it. I’d braced myself for some lecture, and then— just that. I chuckled softly and replied,

“Wizards don’t live long anyway.”

“What…?”

Cedar blinked, clearly caught off guard.

“Wizards have short lifespans? You’re not joking?”

“Nope.”

His face was filled with genuine confusion. He hesitated, then asked again carefully,

“Sword-users live long. Why do mages, who use the same mana, die early?”

“Maybe because we don’t use it to strengthen our bodies like swordsmen do?”

“…Why does that sound like a question?”

“Because I don’t have enough evidence to say for sure. At this stage, it’s still a hypothesis.”

“Complicated way to say it. So you’re saying dying early is just a theory, then.”

“No, that one’s statistically proven. There are tons of historical records of Swordmasters living up to 200.”

That’s when I realized — the man standing before me would probably live far, far longer than I ever could.

Whatever short time my name might remain beside his on a family register would be nothing but a brief flicker in his long life.

‘When you think about it, he’s more like a dragon than a man.’

Of course, dragons no longer existed in this world.

‘Still… it’s kind of romantic.’

I wasn’t one for sentimentality, but the idea that a descendant of dragons might live far longer than ordinary humans did feel oddly poetic.

Cedar, who’d been standing with his arms crossed deep in thought, quickly poured cold water over my little fantasy.

“So basically, you’re just lazy. And that “short lifespan” thing is your excuse.”

That man’s ability to insult so smoothly was impressive. I snapped back,

“I’m not lazy! I’m going to see if we can grow medicinal herbs in the garden!”

“Medicinal herbs? In the front yard?”

He sounded like I’d just said something utterly absurd.

At first, I thought it was because the garden was in shambles.

“You?”

“…”

Yeah. I could tell he didn’t have much faith in me.

‘How did it come to this? We weren’t like this when we first met.’

Was it because he caught me picking vegetables out of my meals?
Or because he saw me eating half-asleep in the morning due to low blood pressure?

‘Still, this is a refreshing change.’

Ever since I’d walked the path of magic, people had treated me as a mature adult no matter how young I was — so his casual disregard felt strangely new.

‘It’s like he’s completely forgotten I’m an Archmage.’

Not that it mattered much to him when we got married.

But I remembered how hard I’d worked to become one.

‘No wonder so many mages leave the academy only to come running back — real life hits hard.’

After being revered there, they must feel lost when society treats them like nobodies.

Still, for me — stripped of my mana — Cedar’s indifference was actually comforting.

I quickened my pace toward the garden.

“I was thinking of making and selling magic potions.”

“Magic potions? Like what?”

“Simple things. A potion that changes hair color, or lets you dream whatever dream you want.”

“You can make things like that?”

I hadn’t meant to brag, but the words slipped out on their own.

“Of course. Not every mage can do it, but I’m an Archmage.”

“Oh?”

Cedar let out a small, intrigued hum. His gaze lingered on me, curious. I frowned slightly.

“What? You don’t believe I’m really an Archmage?”

“Honestly, no. You’re so tiny.”

“Size has nothing to do with magical ability.”

“Well, I’ve never actually seen you use magic. Can’t you at least do the dishes with it?”

Of all things he could ask a mage to do — dishes?

‘Well, better than asking me to destroy a nation or kill someone, I guess.’

Not that I could grant any wish like that right now anyway.

“I can’t use magic at the moment, for… certain reasons.”

“Reasons?”

Because I used a massive spell to turn back time itself — leaving not a single drop of mana in my body.

In other words, I’d lost my qualification as a mage. But telling him that wasn’t an option.

‘He’s not a bad person, but that doesn’t mean I can fully trust him either.’

It wasn’t like he was going to be with me for life, anyway.

I stared quietly at his silver-gray eyes that shimmered faintly blue.

“You look like a Swordmaster. Even your appearance fits.”

“Are you saying I look brutish?”

“I’m saying a sword suits you. Why twist my words?”

Well, he did look rugged. Even if I exercised my entire life, I’d never have muscles like his.

Curious, I glanced at his forearm and asked,

“Did you train hard since childhood? Or do you have your own secret method? Given how many Swordmasters come from House Granite, maybe it’s a family technique?”

Cedar let out a bitter laugh — the kind that didn’t suit him.

“There’s no such thing. My father’s been bedridden for a long time. If he’d been healthy, he might’ve taught me swordsmanship, but by the time I was a kid, he was already in bed.”

“Oh… I see.”

I made an awkward face. It was apparently a well-known story among the nobility.

‘Even with all the top physicians in a ducal house, if there’s no improvement, it must’ve been a serious illness.’

I never lived with my parents, but if they’d been that ill, the whole household must’ve been weighed down with gloom.

“With your father sick, shouldn’t you be running the duchy?”

At least, it didn’t seem like he should be living alone in this small, quiet estate.

He shrugged.

“My mother handles things just fine.”

But despite the casual gesture, his face darkened.

“And honestly, she and I don’t get along.”

His low voice carried emotions I couldn’t fully read — heavy and tangled.

Even a fool could tell his relationship with his mother wasn’t good.

‘Fair enough.’

It couldn’t be worse than mine, where my sister literally tried to kill me. I nodded indifferently.

“I see. Well, it’s not like family members have to get along. And if your mother’s managing things well, there’s nothing to worry about.”

My calm, matter-of-fact reply made Cedar blink.

Then, as if brushing off his earlier mood, he reverted to his usual self — sharp-tongued as ever.

“You accept things way too easily. When you meet your sister again, I bet you’ll forgive her right away.”

That was going too far. Diana was absolutely not someone I’d forgive. I scowled.

“Not a chance! I’m done with Diana. I’ll never change my mind about that.”

“She’ll come running the moment she hears you’ve woken up. She’s quiet now because she doesn’t know. But I give it time — she’ll show up soon.”

Just imagining Diana showing up and pounding on my door sent chills down my spine.