ILBTD23

Episode 23

Kastian’s voice was sharp as he spoke to Marcus.

“I’m busy preparing for the expedition. Don’t waste my time.”

His tone was like someone driving away a peddler from his door. Anyone else might have been offended at being treated that way when they had come with supposed goodwill. But Marcus, unfazed, simply continued speaking.

“Speaking of the expedition, I’ll be joining.”
“No one in the expedition has a High Priest’s recommendation letter. You’ll only get in the way.”
“With or without a letter, I intend to lavish healing on the team.”

For Marcus—who suffered from severe misanthropy—this was a shocking offer. Having a wandering sage with them on such a dangerous journey was reassuring beyond measure.

Still, Kastian clicked his tongue as if reluctant, but finally gave in.

“Do as you please.”

With a dismissive wave of his hand, he sent Marcus away.

The moment Marcus stepped out, Kastian sat beside me and naturally took my hand in his.

“No matter what he promises, keep your distance from the Temple, Lydia.”

The firmness of his warning made me smile.

“Sir Marcus said that if I went to the Temple, I could undergo a purification ritual.”
“Purification ritual?”
“He said if I received it, I could finally become… a normal person.”

“Strange. You’re already a normal person. You laugh, you sleep well, and you love meat.”

“Being normal just means laughing, sleeping well, and liking meat?”

“Isn’t that how it usually is?”

With a playful smile, Kastian pressed a tender kiss to the back of my hand.

Right. What’s so special about being “normal”? Isn’t that how everyone lives?

I wanted to laugh and nod along with him, to say he was right. But instead, my throat tightened. I tried to lift the corners of my lips, but it felt as if tears would spill instead.

I was someone who laughed, who slept, who liked meat. A perfectly ordinary person. Yet no one but Kastian seemed to see that.

The Emperor treated me with loathing even as he pretended generosity. Marcus, under the guise of kindness, only denied my existence.

And the cruelest part—despite it all, I had no choice but to accept their offers with gratitude. Because I was a necromancer. A necromancer who was not even allowed the small privilege of being ordinary.

The sorrow I had been storing up burst all at once, spilling in hot tears.

When I wiped them away with my sleeve and lifted my head, Kastian was frozen in place, his face stiff with shock.

“Lydia, if I’ve spoken carelessly, I beg your forgiveness. Please… forgive me.”

His face went paler than the day his heart had stopped. Horrified, I waved my hands.

“No! You didn’t say anything wrong.”

“Then why…”

His blue eyes trembled, unable to finish, searching only for my reaction.

That worried expression broke the dam, and suddenly, my lips lifted of their own accord.

I had spent so long watching the world’s reactions to me… that I hadn’t realized someone was watching mine. And that someone was Kastian. The thought was strangely comforting.

“I was just… so happy to hear you call me normal. That’s why I cried.”

“That simple statement made you cry from joy?”

I nodded. His face filled with complicated emotions—sorrow, anger, something deeper. Afraid of being misunderstood, I added softly:

“Because I’m a necromancer.”

His brow furrowed even tighter. He opened his mouth, then let out a sigh instead of words, pausing as if wrestling with something.

Finally, he spoke—seemingly out of nowhere.

“I am a Swordmaster with a core. One of only three Mage-Knights on the entire continent.”

It was true—Kastian was a genius among geniuses, wielding both magic and aura. A man of unmatched skill, unrivaled beauty, and very little tact.

Astonishing, yes, but… wasn’t this a strange time for bragging?

“Uh… that’s… impressive…?”

“And yet I’ve used that strength only to threaten, subjugate, and harm. It hasn’t been a noble life.”

His expression was bitter, his tone self-deprecating.

In the novel I had read, Kastian had already been a completed character—an unyielding protector of the world, a reluctant hero who endured the Emperor’s cruelty. Yes, he was prickly, but never once had he complained about his fate. That was why I had cared for him, rooted for him.

Seeing him doubt himself now tugged painfully at my chest. I squeezed his hand and answered firmly.

“But you’re the Empire’s guardian. You’re fighting to save the world right now.”
“Because the Emperor commanded it. Not because I chose it.”
“Even so—it’s good. You’ll succeed in this expedition and save countless lives. That’s what matters.”

His expression softened.

“It’s the same for you, Lydia. Whether necromancy or holy power—your strength saved me. That’s what matters.”

His words were sweeter and gentler than the softest cake. My eyes stung again, and I quickly bowed my head, not wanting him to see me cry.

A large, warm hand rested gently on my head.

“So don’t cry. You are a good person.”
“Even though I’m a necromancer?”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“I think only you believe that. Everyone else despises dark magicians.”

It was a childish protest, a pout born of the way his kindness was melting me inside.

I regretted the words as soon as I spoke them—until his voice came, calm and sincere.

“I don’t. I like you. Does that mean nothing to you?”

I lifted my head, staring into the fathomless blue of his eyes.

“Does that mean nothing to me?”

If he liked me, then even if the entire world hated me, I would endure.

I couldn’t speak; if I opened my mouth, everything inside me would spill out. Instead, I shook my head silently.

Kastian’s eyes softened, his smile gentle with happiness.

What did my feelings mean to him? If I told him I liked him—no, loved him—would he still smile like this?

His eyes were calm like the sea, but in my heart, a storm was raging.

As preparations for the second expedition began in earnest, time moved swiftly.

Kastian was the busiest of all—but not the only one.

Marcus had made good on his promise. He began what he called a trial run of pouring out his healing. Headaches, toothaches, backaches, cramps—anyone who came to him was healed.

For all his personality flaws, Marcus was a man of his word. Soldiers and servants alike praised him.

What must it feel like, to have power that everyone welcomed? I told myself it didn’t matter… but part of me envied it.

Unlike Marcus, I spent my days idle, unneeded, with far too much time to think. Time enough to consider his proposal.

And no matter how I turned it over, the answer remained the same.

“Kastian and a necromancer… it’s impossible.”

Marcus’s kindness might have been laced with disdain, but still—I would accept his offer.

Kastian said it didn’t matter that I was a necromancer. But to others, it did. And I could not bear to become a weapon against him in the hands of someone like the Emperor.

And if—just if—the first law of transmigration novels proved true, “The heroine always falls in love with the male lead”… then what?

Yes, it was wishful thinking. But Kastian was unusually kind to me, wasn’t he? If things continued like this, wouldn’t affection inevitably grow?

And if that happened—wouldn’t it be better for me to be a powerless, ordinary woman, rather than a cursed necromancer?

Yes. I would seize this chance to shed my necromancy.

I was lost in these foolish daydreams when Catherine appeared.

“Lady Lydia, Lady Elisia requests that you join her for dinner.”
“The Duchess?”
“Yes. She has invited you and Sir Marcus. She wishes to properly thank those who aided our Duke.”
“But I’ve already been thanked more than enough…”
“Oh, that’s nowhere near sufficient. You’ll attend, won’t you?”

“…Yes, of course.”

When I nodded, dazed, Catherine snapped her fingers, clearly having anticipated my answer.