Chapter 22
When Duke Croyte didn’t answer right away, Liet realized he was struggling to respond.
“Is it really that hard to learn?”
“…It’s not that. Magic and divine power are often inherited.”
“I might have inherited it!”
“Such abilities usually appear through genetics—someone in your ancestry needs to have possessed them… but I’ve never heard the Duke of Merhen mention anything of the sort.”
As Duke Croyte calmly explained, Liet lowered her head, her expression downcast.
“I see.”
Facing reality stung again. Was there truly no way to punish Samuel and his gang?
Then, Duke Croyte spoke, sounding uncertain.
“…There is one more option, though it’s more like a fairytale.”
“What is it?”
Even after speaking, Duke Croyte looked awkward.
“Spirits.”
“Spirits?”
Liet recalled the story’s original setting. It did include spirits, but they hadn’t played a major role.
“If magic and divine power rely on innate talent, then controlling spirits depends more on effort and character.”
“What kind of effort?”
Liet leaned forward with keen interest.
“Spirits respond to strong and upright hearts… to desperate calls.”
Huh…?
That explanation felt very abstract. Liet tilted her head, unable to fully grasp it.
“Then are spirit-users more common than mages?”
Duke Croyte shook his head.
“One person.”
“One in the city?”
He shook his head again.
“There’s only ever been one in the entire Truto Empire.”
Liet’s jaw dropped.
That’s even rarer than mages or priests!
“You’re teasing me, aren’t you?”
She pouted, narrowing her eyes at the duke.
Duke Croyte chuckled softly.
“I actually had a chance to meet that spirit-user once.”
The only one in the empire? Liet was surprised, but quickly understood.
Come to think of it, this uncle had the power to make that happen.
“He was free-spirited and hard to meet, but he’d respond to the Emperor’s summons and help occasionally. He’s a national spirit-user.”
“Oh…”
Liet thought the image of a free-spirited person fit the idea of a spirit-user well.
“What kind of person was he?”
“I only greeted him briefly, so I can’t say much… but his eyes left a strong impression.”
The duke’s gaze softened with nostalgia as he remembered. Liet listened carefully.
“He had the same eyes as you, Liet.”
“Me?”
“It’s hard to explain… but the more you grow, the more you resemble him.”
Hmm… A nice thing to say, but it didn’t resonate deeply with her.
“There’s a book about spirits in my study. You can take it if you’d like.”
Though she’d already lost interest because the conditions were too unrealistic, Liet couldn’t bring herself to refuse the duke’s kindness and nodded.
“I should get going now, Uncle.”
“All right. I’ll have a carriage ready for you.”
Just before she opened the door, Liet suddenly turned around.
Duke Croyte, looking at her, wore a face clouded with concern.
“Thanks for today, Uncle.”
“No need to say that.”
“I whined a bit, but don’t worry.”
And Liet smiled brighter than ever.
“I’ll find the answer.”
Even after Liet left, Duke Croyte stood by the study window, watching the carriage until it disappeared.
Knock knock—
“Father.”
When Duke Croyte turned at the knock, Evan was leaning against the doorframe.
“Liet’s gone?”
“Yes.”
Duke Croyte rubbed his forehead and added,
“Fortunately, she didn’t seem too badly hurt.”
“How badly she’s hurt isn’t the point.”
Unlike the relieved duke, Evan’s eyes flickered darkly.
Duke Croyte had anticipated this reaction ever since he’d heard about Liet being harmed.
She wasn’t the only one endangered in this incident. Evan, like a wild beast off its leash, worried him even more.
As Evan had grown, he’d become so skilled at hiding his feelings that even his father sometimes couldn’t read him. But whenever it came to Liet, he lost all composure.
“I’ll kill him. Quietly. No one will know.”
His words weren’t born from uncontrolled rage.
Evan was young but smart—he could be meticulous and discreet when needed.
However…
“Don’t interfere.”
Duke Croyte’s voice turned stern.
“If Liet finds out, she’ll be deeply disappointed.”
Mentioning Liet was like putting a leash on Evan—his fierce expression gradually relaxed.
“I believe in that girl. I’m sure she’ll find a wise way to handle this.”
“…”
“You believe that too, don’t you, Evan?”
In response to his father’s question, Evan slumped into a chair and lowered his head.
“I don’t know.”
He gripped his head in frustration.
“I just feel anxious. And uneasy.”
Duke Croyte walked over and patted Evan’s shoulder.
He understood that feeling well—he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off Liet’s retreating figure either.
Even now, he still felt it.
He’d been enraged to hear that the girl more precious to him than a daughter had been hurt, and his heart ached to watch her grow up in such a hostile environment.
“When I first heard she was hurt, my mind went blank. And when I saw her in person… it felt like my heart dropped.”
“…”
“If no one had stopped me, I probably would’ve gone and killed him.”
The one who had stopped him had been none other than Lucas. Evan remembered their brief conversation while Lucas was tending to the unconscious Liet.
“Dealing with Samuel isn’t your job.”
Jealousy and anger flickered in Evan’s gaze again.
“I understand how you feel. But if you act recklessly, Liet will hate you forever.”
Duke Croyte’s words slowly calmed Evan’s raging emotions.
The duke thought Evan resembled his younger self—blinded by a hopeless one-sided love.
Back then, if someone had been there to guide him, maybe he wouldn’t have done the foolish thing of forcing the one he loved to stay by his side.
That’s why he hoped Evan would approach Liet differently—thinking of her feelings first, not just his own. Slowly and carefully.
“That Samuel kid probably just meant to scare her. If he’d seriously hurt her, he couldn’t have covered it up. Let’s wait and see.”
That didn’t mean they’d stand by forever. Liet was just as precious to the duke as she was to Evan.
He would never sit back and watch the bright, warm child lose her light.
And so—
“If he crosses the line…”
Duke Croyte’s eyes turned cold.
“I won’t stay still.”
—
The very next day after she fainted, Liet returned to school as if nothing had happened.
Word of what happened had apparently spread throughout the school—she felt like a celebrity again. Just as the stares started to feel physically hot, a familiar voice called out.
“Liet!”
“Lucas.”
Lucas, having apparently run over, was flushed from the exertion.
“I thought you’d take a few days off, but here you are!”
“This much isn’t a big deal.”
She tried to act casual, but the truth was, last night had been a mess.
Just as expected, the whole house had been in an uproar. Her mother sobbed uncontrollably, and her father flew into a rage.
It had taken hours to convince them not to pull her out of school.
She hadn’t slept a wink and felt awful, but she’d forced herself to come—taking a break felt like losing to Samuel.
“I’m just glad you look okay. You didn’t bleed much, but your face turned so pale when you collapsed… I was really scared.”
Lucas shuddered as he recalled the scene. Liet figured she should at least explain her condition to the poor guy.
“…I just faint at the sight of blood.”
“I didn’t even know that! I rushed you to the infirmary thinking you were dying.”
“Thanks, Lucas.”
Liet looked at him sincerely. Lucas, strangely stiff for a moment, then spoke casually again.
“I have a question.”
“Huh?”
“You and Evan… are you really not a thing?”
Liet raised a brow at the sudden question.
“Where did he come from?”
“Hmm… just wondering.”
“There’s no such thing as ‘just wondering.’”
Come to think of it, Lucas must’ve run into Evan that day.
Lucas carried me to the infirmary… and when I woke up, I was in Evan’s room…
Liet narrowed her eyes at Lucas.
“You saw Evan that day, didn’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“What happened?”
She remembered the slight grimace Evan made when Lucas was mentioned. Lucas looked away, rolling his eyes.
“Nothing.”
Didn’t sound very believable, but Liet didn’t press further. She didn’t care that much.
“What are you going to do now?”
As Lucas asked, the dilemma that had consumed her all night resurfaced.
But she only had one answer. An eye for an eye.
“I’m going to give back what I got.”
Lucas whistled.
“Phew. That’s the Liet I know.”
Chatting casually with Lucas, Liet soon arrived at her classroom.
Just as she sat down, loud noises echoed in the hallway. Liet frowned, sensing she’d be seeing a repulsive face first thing in the morning.
“…Huh?”
Samuel stopped in the doorway when he saw Liet. As if he’d seen a ghost. But he quickly forced a smile and walked over.
“Liet, are you okay? You collapsed yesterday—I thought you’d be out for a while!”
“I figured I should come to school, just so you wouldn’t worry.”
Liet stared straight at him as she spoke.
“I’m really sorry about yesterday. I foolishly didn’t even realize the sword was real.”
Samuel leaned against her desk. Liet clicked her tongue at the insincere excuse.
“My friend who handed you the wrong sword feels terrible too. He’s suspended, so he won’t be back for a while, but he asked me to say sorry on his behalf.”
Liet waved her hand dismissively.
“Could you leave? My stomach’s not great this morning, and seeing your face makes it worse.”
There were stifled snickers from nearby classmates. Samuel’s face turned bright red.
But he had no excuse today. If he tried anything again, his own reputation would be on the line.
Unable to hide his frustration, Samuel turned to leave.
Then, Liet said something quietly—only for him to hear.
“You know this afternoon’s class is archery, right?”
“…?”
“We’ll be hunting.”
Samuel whipped around and glared at her. Liet smirked.
“Just saying.”
