Chapter 99 …
As Uld finished speaking up to that point, a dark shadow fell over his face.
Instead of continuing the story, he lowered his voice and spoke as if whispering, his brow deeply furrowed.
“I’m searching for a medicine that can save her. I firmly believe it exists somewhere.”
So the thing Uld had been risking his life for, fleeing again and again—was it a medicine for the woman he loved?
If that’s the reason, they could at least let him go. Both Zeusia and Verdandi are being too harsh.
Feeling sorry for Uld, who must have struggled all alone, my lips jutted out in a small pout without me realizing it.
“What kind of medicine is it, Doctor? Lira will help you look for it too.”
“Pardon?”
“Just tell me what kind of medicine it is! I’ll ask Verdandi and Chichi to help too. And when His Majesty returns, I’ll ask him as well!”
Determined to show my resolve, I clenched both hands into tight fists. Unable to hold it in, Uld burst out laughing.
As I noticed a hint of bitterness in that smile, he wiped away the faint trace of it and spoke.
“Thank you for saying that. But I can’t waste the Princess’s precious time on something futile.”
“Futile? You’re looking for a medicine to cure a sick person! Lira really wants to—!”
Before I could finish, Uld shook his head.
“No. It truly is futile. What I’m searching for isn’t an ordinary medicine, but one that brings the dead back to life.”
“Brings the dead… back to life?”
That meant Uld’s fiancée was already…
“Yes. She passed away in my arms four years ago. That’s why I’ve been wandering in search of a mythical medicine called Nectar, said to revive the dead. It’s… foolish, isn’t it?”
At his self-mocking words, I couldn’t respond at all.
What would it feel like to live in a world where the person you love no longer exists?
I didn’t really know… but imagining Klein, Senya, and Zeusia disappearing made my vision blur.
Just thinking about the life Uld must have lived made my nose sting.
But I didn’t cry. Instead, I tightly grasped Uld’s hand and denied his self-blame.
“It’s not foolish.”
“…What?”
“It’s not foolish at all. That medicine—you said it’s called Nectar, right? Lira will look for it with you. I’m really good at finding things. Really!”
“Princess…”
For a moment he looked as though he might burst into tears, but soon a faint smile appeared on his lips.
I quickly wiped away the single tear that rolled down Uld’s cheek and laughed along with him as if nothing had happened.
Lowering his head as though trying to hide his reddened eyes, Uld spoke in a subdued voice.
“To be a grown man chasing after a dreamlike medicine to revive the dead—and even shedding tears… I’m embarrassed to imagine how pathetic I must look in the Princess’s eyes.”
“You’re a wonderful adult, Doctor. You even taught me how to take care of my heart so it doesn’t get hurt.”
Meeting my unwavering gaze, Uld rubbed his cheek and whispered.
“It seems I failed to follow my own prescription. Before it hurt this much… I should have allowed myself to grieve freely.”
“Then you can grieve freely starting now! As much as you couldn’t back then.”
“…You’re a good doctor, Princess.”
After slowly wiping his face with dry hands, Uld returned to the neat, composed expression I knew.
“Thank you for listening to such a gloomy story. As a doctor, it’s unbecoming of me, but after confiding in you, I feel much lighter.”
“You can tell me anything anytime! I’ll listen to all of your stories, Doctor. And I really do mean it about helping you find Nectar!”
At my eagerness, as though I might set off immediately to search for that mysterious medicine, Uld smiled comfortably for the first time.
“If you help me, Princess, we might truly find it. Still, even if we don’t, it’s all right. Once I become a true Yggdrasil, I’ll be able to save her.”
“Yggdrasil?”
Why was Yggdrasil suddenly coming up after talk of a mythical medicine?
In the original story, Yggdrasil was a corpse disposal unit, not a resurrection squad.
“Ah, I suppose I never explained Yggdrasil in detail.”
When I nodded, Uld lightly rolled his eyes, as if gauging how much he should explain about Yggdrasil, which had unintentionally turned into some sort of event company.
“Do you like old stories?”
“Yes! I love all kinds of stories!”
Smiling gently at my enthusiastic answer, Uld continued in a calm voice.
“Long before the continent was divided into the Eastern and Western Empires, it’s said there existed a strange power far beyond what we now call magic.”
“A strange power?”
“Yes. A power so strong and unreal that it could defy the laws of the world—rewind time, revive the dead, or perform extraordinary feats.”
Having already experienced such an extraordinary feat myself, I simply nodded instead of interrupting with That’s impossible!, and waited for him to continue.
“The first Emperor of the Empire made a deal with that strange power, known as Causality, to secure his authority. What was born from that deal was the origin of Yggdrasil.”
Since the original work mostly focused on explicit scenes, there had been no explanation of Yggdrasil’s origins.
Feeling as though I were reading an unreleased secret side story, I listened intently.
“Only three Yggdrasil exist in each generation, and by the terms of the deal with Causality, they must obey the Emperor’s commands absolutely. In return, they gain the right to make one wish to Causality.”
“A wish?”
“Yes. A wish. No matter what you wish for, it will be fulfilled.”
I didn’t fully grasp all the complicated terms, but in short, it seemed Yggdrasil members could absolutely have one wish granted.
A wish!
It sounded so simple and easy that it made all of Uld’s hardship searching for a legendary medicine seem strange.
“So if you become Yggdrasil, Doctor, you can bring the person you love back to life, right?”
When Uld nodded, I clapped my hands without realizing it.
“That’s great! Then make a wish to Causality right now!”
If I corrected Zeusia properly, even if he went from temporary to true Uld, he wouldn’t fall into darkness like in the original story.
Yggdrasil wouldn’t become a corpse disposal unit, Uld would reunite with the one he loved, and everyone would be happy!
But unlike my reaction, Uld’s expression darkened.
“Unfortunately, becoming the true Uld and making a wish must be the very last resort.”
“Why?”
“Because you have to pay a price for a wish.”
“A price…?”
The ominous word sent a chill down my spine as Uld kindly explained.
“Becoming Yggdrasil only grants you the right to make a wish. The price for that wish is paid separately.”
He said the price was fundamentally an equivalent exchange.
“The value is determined by Causality’s judgment. If you wish to become rich, you forget what you intended to do with that money. If you wish for someone else’s health, you lose your own.”
The frightening calculation was nothing like any wish I’d known.
“So if I were to wish for her to be revived, I might lose my own life as the price.”
“What kind of wish is that…? That’s terrible.”
At my muttering, Uld gave an awkward smile.
“That’s why I said it must be the final option. Even if I could save her, it would be meaningless if we could never meet again.”
But in the original story, Uld must have chosen that last option anyway—knowing the price, and prepared to never meet her again.
Could it be that Uld’s personality in the original story was completely different from now because of that wish?
Perhaps Pepper becoming Skuld was also connected to Yggdrasil’s Causality.
I need to learn more about Yggdrasil. And about Causality.
What was certain was that Causality was absolutely not a benevolent existence—and that Uld and Pepper must never be allowed to make a wish.
“Lira will definitely find Nectar for you. So please—never! Never ever make a wish to that weirdly named Causality, okay?”
When I stuck out my pinky and said, “Promise!” Uld’s eyes widened for a moment before he hooked his finger with mine.
“You know you have to keep a pinky promise, right? If you secretly make a wish to Causality behind Lira’s back, that’s absolutely, absolutely, absolutely not allowed!”
Uld nodded as many times as the number of times I said “absolutely.”
“I promise. Just having you listen has made the lingering regrets clinging to me feel a little lighter.”
“Regrets?”
Tilting my head at the difficult word, Uld didn’t explain it like before. Instead, he smiled mysteriously.
“To have someone support a wish I myself thought foolish… I didn’t realize it could be such a great comfort.”
“…Huh?”
“Thanks to you, Princess, I think I’ve gained the courage to let go. Thank you.”
