Chapter 22
After using a few teleportation magic circles and traveling for another day, the eagle flag—the symbol of Altair—finally came into view.
The vast plain at the base of the mountain, the bright faces of the citizens unclouded by worry, and the perfectly disciplined sentries—all of it radiated the majesty of the Duchy of Altair.
“Deneb, all this is yours? That’s amazing,” Arin said, giving him a thumbs-up.
A mercenary trailing behind them audibly swallowed in panic. He was amazed Arin’s thumb hadn’t been chopped off. If he had made such a gesture, he might’ve had to say goodbye to his thumb forever. He instinctively rubbed his own thumb.
“What are you doing?” Remain asked, startling the mercenary—Alpha.
“Captain Remain, please give a warning before showing up like that!”
“What, should I ring a bell and say, ‘Hey, I’m coming to talk to you!’ or something? Never mind that. Is your thumb hurting? Why are you rubbing it so much?”
“Well… am I the only one who finds it weird? Lady Arin’s thumb is still intact.”
Remain burst out laughing.
“You dumbass… You really have no tact. Of course, it’s weird! But do you know why everyone’s pretending it’s not?”
“What is it?”
“Pfft, I don’t know either. We’re just smart enough to act like we didn’t see anything. Don’t meddle in your superior’s business. Whether you see it or not—pretend you didn’t. Got it?”
Alpha didn’t understand a word of what Remain said, but he nodded as if he did. Adaptability was a must to survive as a mercenary.
“Yes, understood.”
Arin, with her excellent hearing, caught their conversation perfectly. Feeling a little embarrassed that she’d done something worthy of their concern, she glanced at Deneb. He was shooting bloodthirsty glares behind him with his signature square mark on his forehead.
Hic.
Squeak.
Remain and Alpha stiffened like statues in fear. Even the horses, who had been trotting steadily, began moonwalking in reverse.
Seeing their ridiculous reactions, Cerebes pointed ahead.
“We’ve arrived.”
Their horses slowed significantly.
The entrance of the duke’s castle was so grand it overwhelmed all who looked upon it. The fortress, encased in defensive magic, soared sky-high. Its scale was beyond belief—something no medieval architecture should possess. Arin’s jaw dropped like a hippo’s as she gawked in awe.
“We pay our respects to His Grace, the Duke!”
The sentry, upon seeing Deneb, bowed his head and saluted smartly.
“Open the gate.”
At his command, the guards opened the castle gate with military precision.
As the gate opened, over a hundred knights came into view, lined up in perfect formation.
“We pay our respects to His Grace, the Duke!”
Some might have been from factions opposing Deneb, but with every vassal bowing in unison, the scene looked like something straight out of a movie.
‘Wow, what in the world…’
For the first time, Arin felt a sense of distance from Deneb.
Three years had passed, with seasons just like Earth cycling three times. That time brought great change to Arin.
First, her rank rose. Deneb had said it would be better for her to live as a noble—even just as a quasi-baroness—than as a commoner, and so he knighted her. She was now the vice-captain of the 2nd Knight Division under Captain Remain. The position shaped her, and her swordsmanship had improved dramatically.
Second, she’d learned more about the system. The synchronization had been a one-time upgrade that replicated Deneb’s exact state and powers at the time. That’s why her body had matched his condition. Now that she had consumed the Mana Flower and healed, it no longer mattered.
Inside the 2nd Division’s office, Arin was zoning out when she heard a knock.
Knock knock.
“Sir Arin, the former duke requests your presence.”
She glanced at the magical clock in the office. The hour hand pointed to three.
“It’s already that late, huh? Captain Remain, I’ll be heading out.”
“Oh, yeah. Go ahead.”
“Go ahead? I’m going home after that. My bunny-like child and panther-like Yello are waiting for me.”
“Ha! That work-life balance, huh.”
“Work-life balance is the key to happiness. See you!”
Waving cheerfully, Arin skipped off toward the former duke’s office.
At the top floor of the castle, at the end of the hallway, was a door colored a rich dark brown. She placed her hand on the handle, which had an ornate eagle engraved on it. The door clicked open to reveal a chic, monochromatic interior.
A middle-aged man with a dignified aura sat on a leather sofa by a large window. This was Altair—the former duke—who had narrowly escaped death thanks to the Mana Flower. Over the past three years, he had regained his health.
“Sit.”
“Yes, sir.”
As soon as Arin sat, Deneb entered and seated himself naturally between them. Altair began speaking, face grave as if burdened with the world.
“Drink.”
Thus began another silent tea time.
The only sound was the clink of teacups. Arin had grown so used to this silence, it now felt almost comforting. She’d originally started attending these meetings just to break the awkward silence between the father and son.
“Sweet.”
“Yes.”
Despite their reserved personalities, the two deeply cared for each other—though they’d never admit it. It wasn’t even a competition, yet they both stubbornly refused to show affection.
Only after finishing their bitter tea and sweet dessert did Altair finally speak.
“That’s enough. You may go.”
“Oh!”
“What is it?”
All his previous phrases had been just two syllables: “Sit,” “Drink,” “Sweet.” This one had four, and it amazed her. But how could she say that? She awkwardly laughed and changed the subject.
“Ah, nothing! By the way, I haven’t seen Ad today.”
“He’s playing after taking a walk with Yello.”
Altair’s raised eyebrow betrayed his disappointment. Arin was about to say she’d bring them over later when a rapid knock came from outside.
“Enter.”
“This is Cerebes Dolche, sir.”
“What is it?”
“Lady Asilla has finished her convalescence and is returning.”
Asilla had tried—and failed—to kill both Deneb and Altair. She had destroyed all evidence and then claimed illness to go into hiding. Her retreat wasn’t some peaceful rural haven, but a busy capital villa filled with amusements. A former imperial princess, Asilla probably felt safest near the imperial palace.
“So, she finally deigns to return,” Deneb said coldly.
Cerebes’s shoulders tensed at the tone.
Tea time ended with unwelcome news, and Arin returned home. Though she’d wanted a peaceful cottage in a green meadow, her house was a small annex at the far edge of the castle.
Living where you worked—what a tragedy. But she had no choice. Deneb, apparently suffering from separation anxiety, had insisted she stay within the castle grounds. So, she ended up living in the so-called “Antique Brown House.”
The annex was surrounded by a red stone wall, and entry required placing one’s hand on a recognition magic circle.
As Arin placed her hand on it, the gate opened. Yello came running and headbutted her.
[Idiot! Did you hunt successfully? Got meat? What’s for dinner?!]
She had gone shopping for exactly zero things today. She showed her calloused palm instead. Yello looked at her in utter disappointment.
‘Spent half the day outside and couldn’t catch a single rabbit. I’ll have to babysit this fool for life, huh. Tsk.’
Once again, Arin was treated as a failed hunter.
“There’s food in the kitchen, so why do you keep insisting I hunt? Hm?”
[Hunting is a virtue of top-ranking beings! If you can’t hunt, you’re not elite!]
“Then I’ll just be low-ranked.”
[Oh ho! Then here’s a command to celebrate your new rank: go bring me fooood!]
“So if I go hunting…”
[I can’t acknowledge someone who can’t hunt!]
This bit had been on repeat for three years. Somehow, they never tired of the banter. Laughing and bickering, they arrived at a light blue room—Ad’s room.
Inside, Ad was intensely focused on drawing.
“Ad, what are you doing?”
“Drawing!”
He held up his drawing high with his little rice cake cheeks smudged in yellow crayon. He beamed proudly and handed over the picture.
It showed two adult men, one woman, and two children—almost like a family portrait.
The two men were clearly the Altair father and son, and the woman was Arin. Of the two children, one was blond and the other had sandy-brown hair—probably Ad. Arin pointed at the blond child.
“A sibling?”
“Yeah!”
Ad skipped over like a chick and taped the drawing to the wall. Arin looked at the wall with a complicated expression. One side of it was now full of drawings featuring the blond child.
This reminded her of a conversation from three years ago when she and Deneb discussed Ad’s living arrangements. Deneb had worn a grave expression.
“That child is not ordinary.”
“I know. He’s an alchemist,” Arin replied firmly.
“If that were all, I wouldn’t be this worried. We scoured the entire area where he was found, but found nothing about his background. It was suspiciously clean.”
“Nothing at all?”
“Not a single trace. There are too many odd things about him. Like the amnesia…”
Arin had been concerned Ad might fall ill due to their forced marches. Deneb, seeing her concern, summoned a priest to examine him. The priest said Ad was healthy, but his behavior didn’t match his physical development.
Arin argued that it was because Ad had been isolated as an alchemist. Deneb agreed. But the diagnosis was shocking.
“He has amnesia. The only thing he remembers is that he had a blond twin sibling.”
Because Ad was so cheerful and innocent, she hadn’t considered that he might be suffering from amnesia. But thinking about it now, a child locked away shouldn’t have been this cheerful. If he’d been oppressed, some part of him should’ve been broken.
Why hadn’t she noticed it before? Arin blamed herself.
But by now, she was too attached to part with him. She realized she couldn’t give up the warmth of his small body snuggling into her side each night.
“Still, I want to raise Ad. Even if I can’t be a mother or aunt… I can at least be his big sister.”
And so, Arin, Ad, and Yello became a family.
