Chapter 55
Round, marble-like eyes sparkled as a huge mouth opened wide, a jelly-like pink tongue flopping out.
Pant—pant pant—
A smiling angel Samoyed.
It was adorable enough to make one gasp, but Elodie shrieked instead and slapped herself tightly against Geno’s leg.
She felt all the blood drain from her body.
Beastfolk could communicate even across different species, so of course she could understand what it was saying, but still—
It looked like it wanted to eat her!
“Wow, you really are scared, huh.”
“……”
“If you’re this afraid of Dogren, how are you planning to survive here in Valkyrisen…?”
No—she was afraid of Dogren specifically, okay?
How unfair.
She used to appear before knights in a magnificent uniform, assigning secret missions and leading them to success.
And now she was being treated like this… how humiliating.
Geno, uncharacteristically, looked down at her with genuine concern.
“Hey. Just go.”
“Whiiine……”
Without teasing Elodie further, he calmly dismissed Dogren.
That somehow made things feel even more somber.
Cassian had burst into laughter earlier, saying it was pathetic how she tripped while running away from a dog.
But for Geno to not even think of mocking her—
That meant her condition really looked bad.
“If the butler Dogren scares you this much, wouldn’t you faint the moment you meet Butler Catlix?”
Catlix?
There was a cat butler in this castle?
Just imagining sharing the same space as a cat sent chills through her entire body, making her stiffen.
“Well, if you’re really that scared, just run straight to me. I’m strong, you know. I could make an exception and protect you.”
“……”
But hearing something like that was honestly irritating.
Elodie suddenly sprang to her feet.
Then she pulled out a white, gleaming holy hammer from her robes.
“What’s that toy?”
Elodie swung the hammer down hard.
Bang.
A hole appeared in the wall.
The boy’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as his mouth hung open.
“Th—this—no, wait… what?”
He alternated between staring at the smashed wall and the tiny palm-sized hammer, then at Elodie smiling brightly.
She lifted the hammer as if about to swing again and stepped toward Geno, one step at a time.
“Come here. (Come over here.)”
“M—are you insane?! Stay back!”
“It’s okay. I’ll be gentle. (I’ll be gentle.)”
“WAAAH!”
That was probably enough teasing.
Giggling, Elodie transformed into a field mouse and slipped straight into the mouse hole.
“Hey!” Geno shouted once he realized he’d been played, but the hole sealed itself in an instant.
“Inferno! Inferno!”
[Young miss, I told you I’d give you special lessons, and yet you’re this late! If you’re already slacking off, when exactly do you plan to finish all the books here?!]
Well, she had planned to… but she’d been really busy.
Letting the fire spirit’s nagging go in one ear and out the other, Elodie asked,
“Hey. Can prosopagnosia be fixed? Is there a book about treating it?”
[Hmm. I don’t think there is.]
The flames flickered widely, as if he were shaking his head.
She knew prosopagnosia was considered incurable, but did that mean even Ratson—who wielded divine power—couldn’t fix it?
Just as disappointment washed over Elodie’s face—
[But that’s not because it can’t be fixed. It’s probably because there’s no need to bother writing it down.]
“Yes! I knew it!”
Hey—she’d believed in that!
[It depends on the cause, but if it’s a symptom resulting from head trauma, even you, young miss, could cure it.]
There were conditions, sure, but still.
Elodie pulled out the book Inferno pointed to: Everything About Trauma Treatment.
[However, injuries involving the head are different from general trauma. The patient’s own will is crucial.]
“For example?”
[Not caring whether it’s cured or not, not believing it can be cured, not wanting to be cured, finding it bothersome…]
Every single one of those sounded like a direct hit at Aizen.
But—
“I don’t think that’ll be a problem.”
Elodie was absolutely certain of it.
“Brother, if—just if—something were to happen.”
“If I’m gone, please take care of my wife and Cassian.”
“Don’t say such unlucky things.”
“You’re too harsh. But still—you never know what life will bring.”
The Evernite County was peaceful.
Unlike him, who always stood at the frontlines drenched in blood and flesh, his younger brother lived an entirely different life.
Lord of a peaceful, fertile golden land.
A blood-crazed war maniac, a demon.
Even their epithets were complete opposites.
Aizen found it absurd.
When he asked, realistically, who would die first—him or his brother—the man merely laughed awkwardly.
“But it’s hard to imagine you dying first, brother.”
The Evernite Count always had that habit of smiling sheepishly.
Just like the man who later appeared claiming to be Cassian.
He clearly remembered scolding him for his disheveled appearance—despite being a count.
“I’m worried my son resembles me too much. He’s so careless. I wish he were sharper—more put-together.”
Had he told him to worry about himself instead?
Aizen recalled how the man approaching him, calling him uncle, had been missing a button.
It looked like he’d tried his best to dress neatly, but the clothes were awkwardly ironed, and stray hairs stuck out at the back of his head, clearly uncombed.
It fit.
If Cassian had truly been picked up by peasants and raised without care, that’s probably what he would have looked like.
Aizen took out an old sheet of paper bearing a family portrait.
It no longer held meaning, gathering dust, but he’d taken it out so often during exhibitions that it had become worn and tattered.
‘Do they resemble each other?’
He couldn’t tell.
“Grandpa.”
Aizen looked down at the child who suddenly appeared.
Though he couldn’t see her face, the ears poking up clearly over the mahogany desk made her presence unmistakable.
“At this point, you come and go like it’s your own room.”
“I wanna see too. (Let me see too.)”
Elodie held out her hand.
With a faint chuckle, Aizen dropped the portrait into her palm.
“Grandpa’s handsome. (You’re handsome, Grandpa.)”
“Does that matter?”
It wasn’t just politeness—he’d been shockingly handsome.
That raw, rugged beauty drawn with bold lines—if the god of war had descended upon this land, wouldn’t he have looked like this?
Of course, a handsome youth naturally becomes a handsome old man, and traces of that face still remained.
But time’s cruelty was undeniable.
“Why did you end up like this…? (Why did it turn out this way…?)”
“Grow old yourself and you’ll know.”
His response carried no attachment.
Aging was loss.
Losing what one once had.
No matter how tightly you try to hold on, it slips endlessly through your fingers.
Clinging and obsessing only makes you look pitiful—in the end, all you can do is let go.
Aizen was an old man who knew very well how not to become pitiful.
He’d been that way since the first time she met him.
‘I’ve been an old mouse before, too.’
Elodie recalled that time.
Sparse fur, aching joints, no strength left in her body, difficulty chewing food, poor digestion.
But the most heartbreaking thing—
Was probably her memories slowly fading.
Living as a field mouse in the human world, she couldn’t communicate with anyone except the fairy grandmother.
Not even Sera.
They shared a deep bond, but never direct conversation.
Which meant the only thing she truly possessed were the memories in her head.
And losing even those—
Was unbearably painful.
Because she had grown old once before, she understood better than anyone.
How remarkable it was that he accepted loss naturally, erasing even the brilliance of his past glory without regret.
It inspired genuine respect.
That was why he now lived such a mature life.
But Elodie didn’t want Aizen to empty himself any further.
She didn’t want him to give up.
Even if the dazzling light of his youth had faded—
She hoped he wouldn’t abandon the warmth he could still enjoy in the life he had left.
Who, after all, would dare call him pitiful for clinging to small memories and lingering warmth?
