Episode 13
Miriam’s chest was filled with jewels, while El’s was packed full of gold coins.
“It’s better if you open this one yourself.”
Natasha took the most ornate chest from Aria’s hands and handed it to Celine.
She could already guess what would be inside, and her fingers trembled slightly as she lifted the lid.
Click.
Red, yellow, green, blue, violet…
Magic stones in every color of the rainbow shone brilliantly, flaunting their radiance.
Celine felt dizzy and quickly shut the chest. She could feel Natasha’s eager gaze on her.
Celine swallowed hard.
She wasn’t sure if saying this now was the right choice, but delaying it wouldn’t change anything either.
Celine bowed her head respectfully toward Natasha.
“Thank you for your generosity. But… I can’t be the Grand Duke’s mage.”
“…Raise your head, Celine.”
Slowly, she lifted her head.
The same sapphire-blue eyes as Leonhardt’s were fixed sharply on her.
“These are just gifts. No one’s asking you to become our family’s mage, Celine.”
“But still…”
“Think about it. How could we assign dangerous missions to someone who almost dies just from wearing a corset?”
If she’s a mage, she could handle it,
Celine muttered inwardly.
Magic.
Among the players of Celine’s Nightmare, Karl Vyland was nicknamed the Master Key.
He would save the protagonist from certain death, heal her when she was on the brink, and even hand her crucial items to overcome deadly trials.
In the game, Karl’s near-omnipotence was explained by his status as an immensely powerful mage.
Of course, if she could become even half as strong as him, death would hardly be a concern.
Come to think of it, the true ending route began with meeting Karl early, didn’t it?
Karl was originally supposed to appear much later in the main storyline, but with the right strategy, players could encounter him early on.
Celine had hated spoilers, so she stopped reading walkthroughs right after that part, deciding to play the rest on her own.
Now, regret and frustration washed over her.
Why on earth did I do that…?
Celine rubbed her forehead—then froze when she realized Natasha was standing right in front of her. She quickly straightened her posture.
Truthfully, she didn’t have many options.
If she rejected the gift, it would mean refusing the Grand Duke’s goodwill—an awkward position for someone who had no choice but to stay here.
If she accepted it… then eventually, she would have to become the Grand Duke’s mage.
Celine stared quietly at the chest.
Even if she refused it, she still had to rely on the Duke’s household and learn magic under their patronage.
Trying not to let her emotions show, she bowed her head again.
“I was worrying too much. Thank you very much.”
“Celine,” Natasha said, lightly clasping her hand.
“I haven’t known you long, but you worry far too much. You really don’t have to.”
She helped Celine to her feet.
“Now, go change and come meet Father. He said to bring you to him once you’ve recovered.”
At once, the maid attendants began to undress her, peeling away her soaked garments.
Half-dazed, Celine let them lead her. Her mind was occupied only with one question:
What will I do when I stand before the Grand Duke?
No good answer came to her. Soon, she found herself alone with the Grand Duke, who smiled kindly.
“No need to be so tense.”
His voice was gentle.
“It’s good news, really—our guest turning out to be a mage.”
“I’m deeply grateful for your kindness.”
“I’ve hardly done anything yet,” the Duke chuckled softly. Then, with his knobby hands, he handed her a parchment.
“…!”
Celine’s eyes widened.
It was a certificate.
A formal letter declaring that she was a guest of the North—and that any territory allied with the North must treat her with hospitality.
“That was Leonhardt’s idea.”
Celine’s head snapped up in surprise.
“He said that no matter what I told you, you’d feel pressured to become my mage.”
“…”
“With this, you can go anywhere. Mages are welcomed everywhere, so you’ll be safe. Whether you stay or leave—that’s entirely your choice.”
“R-Really…?”
Celine was speechless.
If she left Bernoui Castle, she would slip out of Leonhardt’s sight.
And he, of all people, understood exactly what that would mean.
“You don’t need to answer right away.”
“No,” Celine said, her voice now steady.
“If Your Grace allows it, I’d like to stay in the North.”
Moments later, she closed the Duke’s study door quietly behind her.
A familiar silhouette stood nearby.
Tall, sharp, and unmistakably familiar—more than anyone else in the world.
“Don’t tell me… you waited here this whole time?”
Leonhardt didn’t reply. His gaze was fixed on the parchment in her hand.
“Ah, the certificate… I heard it was your idea.”
“…Have you decided?”
When Celine nodded, a spark flashed in his eyes.
“I’m going to stay.”
Leonhardt unconsciously reached out toward her, then hesitated and withdrew his hand.
“Think carefully. You might regret it.”
Celine felt suddenly lost.
She’d assumed the certificate was his way of giving her freedom. But now, it seemed like he actually wanted her to leave.
Her eyes met his. He tried to avert his gaze, but she followed it relentlessly until he gave in.
“Do you want me to leave?”
“…That’s not it.”
Leonhardt rubbed his jaw awkwardly.
“I just… worry that you might feel pressured.”
“Of course I do! How could I not feel pressured?”
Her voice rose intentionally.
“But I’m staying because the feeling that I want to be here is stronger than that pressure!”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
Celine’s tone softened again, reassuring him.
Leonhardt sighed in relief. He truly hadn’t wanted her to go—
but even more, he didn’t want her to stay out of obligation.
“Then… I’m glad.”
Celine’s lingering doubt finally surfaced.
“If I left, you’d be anxious about the nightmares returning, wouldn’t you? How were you planning to deal with that?”
“I was going to go with you.”
“What?”
Celine stared at him, speechless.
“B-but… isn’t that—”
Leonhardt gave a faint smile.
“Irresponsible for the heir to the North? Perhaps. But every territory listed on that certificate is near the North anyway. I could fulfill my duties and keep you safe.”
“Does the Grand Duke know?”
“No,” he replied seriously.
“If he did, he’d have forbidden it outright.”
Celine was at a loss for words. He hadn’t been joking.
“Then it’s a good thing I chose to stay. For everyone’s sake.”
“That remains to be seen,” Leonhardt murmured. Then, after a pause:
“If you ever want to leave, tell me. I’ll go with you.”
Celine’s teacher—the mage who would train her—arrived at the castle two days later.
He introduced himself simply as Emil.
His skin was smooth and unwrinkled, yet his hair was completely white—it was impossible to guess his age.
Their first lesson was a disaster.
“Aaagh!”
Celine opened her eyes in confusion at Emil’s scream. She was sure she had followed his instructions exactly:
Close her eyes, feel the flow of magic through her body, and create a small flame.
She’d imagined the blue fire flickering along Lashir’s blade…
But when she opened her eyes, there was no flame.
Instead, a scorching heat like a mirage rising off a summer road filled the entire room.
Emil’s condition was far worse.
He clutched at his white hair, muttering incoherently under his breath.
Panicking, Celine tried to undo whatever she had caused, but the heat only intensified.
“Emil Lute! Get a hold of yourself!”
But at the sound of her voice, Emil bolted for the stairwell leading down from the top of the tower.
Celine screamed in despair, but he never looked back.
The heat began to suffocate her.
She realized instinctively—she was dying.
“Celine Lute!”
If not for that unfamiliar yet somehow recognizable voice, she truly would have died.
In an instant, the burning heat vanished, replaced by the biting chill of winter air.
Celine realized she was writhing on a cold stone floor. She struggled to her knees.
Karl Vyland’s warm green eyes were looking down at her.
“I sensed dangerous magic and came to check—thank goodness I did. What kind of fool thinks he can teach Celine Lute like that…!”
Karl’s voice was sharp with anger as he approached.
“Are you all right?”
“N-no…”
Celine gasped for breath, the cold air stabbing her lungs, and sank back to the floor.
“Th-thank you.”
Karl gave a short, scornful laugh.
“You shouldn’t be thanking me. The man who abandoned you should—if you’d died, his head would’ve rolled.”
“Wh-what happened? Did I do something wrong…?”
“No,” Karl said, shaking his head.
“It’s something that can happen to any first-time mage. The real problem was that idiot failing to react properly.”
He looked at her thoughtfully.
“Or perhaps he simply underestimated you.”
“U-underestimated me?”
“Listen carefully.”
Celine steadied herself on the stone floor and stood up. Karl’s voice had a power that demanded attention—even from someone who’d just faced death.
“Celine Lute, the magic stones you touched are of the highest grade. The fact that you absorbed all that power without suffering side effects means your potential…”
He hesitated, searching for the right words.
“…is truly extraordinary.”
“…”
Celine was too stunned to speak.
Her heart was still pounding from the brush with death, but his words—her immense potential—filled her with both excitement and fear.
“I’m dangerous, then,” she whispered.
“Indeed,” Karl replied without hesitation.
A polite denial would have been expected, but he nodded immediately instead. His expression was a complex mix of concern and anticipation.
“Celine Lute, I know I said before that it wouldn’t be possible… but—would it be all right if I became your teacher?”
