Episode 3
The meeting had ended.
It was decided that the expedition would depart as scheduled in two hours.
Because Castian’s condition was being kept strictly confidential, they couldn’t delay the mission without a valid reason.
Instead, Castian, Edan, and I would set out with the expedition but break away midway to search for the wandering sage, Marcus.
If Castian was to rejoin the main force, he had to recover quickly. That meant the renowned intelligence network of House Bernstein, famed for its unmatched information-gathering power, had already been set in motion.
And I needed to move too—trailing right behind Castian.
He left the conference room and headed straight for the duke’s chamber.
I followed him down the long corridor at a modest distance, gawking at the splendor around me.
House Bernstein’s grand estate, said to rival the imperial palace in wealth, was indeed no exaggeration—even the ceiling frescoes in the hallways were breathtaking.
“Wow…”
I tilted my head back to admire the heavenly artwork above me, then gave up and pulled down the hood that had been bothering me since earlier.
Just as I was fully absorbed in studying the ceiling, Castian came to a sudden halt and spoke.
“I told you not to fall behind.”
“O-oh! Sorry!”
When did he get so far ahead?
Maybe it’s those long legs… he walks insanely fast.
The further I got from Castian, the more mana I had to expend to maintain the link—a strain I could feel acutely.
I picked up my pace and hurried to stand behind him, prompting him to glance back at me with clear annoyance.
Our eyes met. I had to crane my neck to meet his gaze.
His blue eyes, previously full of irritation, widened slightly.
“You…”
“Yes?”
Worried he might snap at me, I braced myself—but instead, Castian gave me an unexpected question with a hard-to-read expression.
“Was your name… Lydia?”
“Eh? Ah, yes.”
Awkward, but that was my name. I nodded.
Even after this strange introduction, he stared at me in silence.
I started to wonder if there was something on my face.
Then, in a low voice, he murmured, “Walk beside me.”
And without waiting for a response, he resumed walking with his long strides.
Was he afraid I’d try to run away if I stayed behind?
I didn’t know why, but when the duke himself tells you to walk beside him, you do it—no questions asked.
Matching his pace was like a sparrow chasing a stork. I ended up speed-walking just to keep up.
By the time we arrived at the duke’s study, I was out of breath. Castian ignored me and sat down at the desk, flipping through a pile of documents.
Awkwardly standing there, I eventually crept toward the sofa.
I hesitated in front of the luxurious piece of furniture, embroidered with intricate patterns, wondering if I was even allowed to sit on it. But my legs ached too much from the brisk walk.
I carefully lowered myself onto the sofa. Castian glanced at me, then returned to his papers.
…So, it’s fine if I sit here?
Finally able to relax, I leaned back and looked around his study in earnest.
If the hallway was extravagant, the study was another level entirely.
It wasn’t overtly gaudy, with a refined palette of browns, but every piece of furniture screamed wealth—even to my untrained eyes.
Even the glass table in front of the sofa gave off a strange glimmer. Leaning forward, I saw my reflection clearly in it.
It was the first time since possessing this body that I saw my face.
Curly black hair—that was fine—but red eyes?
That combination practically screamed “bad omen.”
My upturned eyes gave me a feline look at best, but most people would probably say I looked like I was picking a fight.
At least my nose and lips were small and neat… but still, I definitely looked like someone you didn’t want to mess with.
“Haa…”
A long sigh escaped my lips.
Reviled by the world as a dark mage. And not just any dark mage, but a necromancer of all things.
And now I even looked the part—like a classic “scary unnie.”
Was this possession really okay?
“Haaaah…”
—
Another sigh broke the silence, prompting Castian’s pen to pause.
Turning only his eyes, he glanced toward Lydia, who had been sighing into the table ever since they arrived.
Everything had fallen apart in an instant.
If the expedition failed, it would be difficult to avoid the emperor’s rebuke.
And if it were revealed that he was only alive due to necromancy… it wouldn’t just be the emperor. The entire empire would erupt.
He had been too careless.
After locating the dark mages’ base using information from Gauron and Lydia, he’d let his guard down.
The only relief was that Castian’s soul had maintained its reason despite the necromantic ritual—but even that seemed shaky now.
Lydia, unaware that Castian was watching her from the corner of his eye, let out another deep sigh.
At that moment, Castian unconsciously shifted in his seat.
He had almost walked over and asked, What’s making you sigh like that?
“…This is insane,” he muttered, putting down his pen and rubbing his face with both hands.
He turned his back to her, facing the window, but his blue eyes stayed fixed on her silhouette reflected in the glass.
Was that what she looked like?
Lydia had always stayed silent, hood up, barely nodding when Gauron spoke.
He’d never even heard her voice until recently.
Her looks, her voice—none of it had mattered before.
To Castian, she had simply been a useful dark mage. Nothing more.
But now… everything had changed.
Those large, red gem-like eyes… her clear voice that tickled the ears… were now hammering at his long-dead heart.
They say necromancy binds the soul to absolute loyalty…
And Castian, still technically alive, was now enduring that overwhelming allure in full.
Earlier, when Edan had swung his sword above Lydia’s head during the meeting, Castian had nearly stabbed his most loyal subordinate.
And when he saw Lydia’s face in the hallway after she removed her hood… he had wanted to kneel and kiss the back of her hand.
He had to be insane.
He wanted to submit to the very necromancer who had stolen his soul.
Alive or dead—this was hell.
And the woman who had dragged him into this living hell was now curled into a ball, hugging her knees.
Her sighs had been pitiful enough, but now she sat there like a tiny, shivering orb of misery.
She was already small, and crouched like that… he couldn’t ignore it.
Just as Castian was about to rise from his seat, Edan knocked at the door.
“Castian, it’s Edan.”
What the hell was he about to do?
Approach that damned necromancer and ask her what was wrong?
Suppressing a groan, Castian composed himself and called out, “Come in.”
Edan entered, respectfully bowing to Castian—and then glaring daggers at Lydia.
He bared his teeth at the dark, ominous woman who held his lord’s soul hostage, and reported,
“All our agents are deployed. No matter where the sage is in the empire, they’ll find him within three days.”
“…Three days, huh.”
Castian murmured with a troubled expression.
Unaware of the torment Castian was going through, Edan continued to glare at Lydia.
His murderous intent burned as brightly as his red hair, making Lydia shrink even smaller in her seat.
Castian, unable to bear the sight, waved his hand.
“Enough. Leave us.”
“No, sir. Who knows what she’ll try next? I’ll stand guard—”
“I’m not stupid enough to be caught twice, Edan.”
“But still—”
“Leave.”
Castian’s voice turned cold, his chin raised regally.
Though reluctant, Ethan remembered how he’d nearly ruined Castian’s last chance of revival by losing his temper earlier.
He feared he might have already fallen out of favor with his lord.
Ultimately, Edan gave Lydia one last glare and nodded.
“…Understood, sir. Ah, the Marchioness requests your presence.”
“My mother?”
“Yes.”
At Ethan’s reply, Castian glanced at Lydia, then frowned.
Like it or not, he had to take her with him—but her outfit was far too conspicuous to be paraded around the duchy.
“Bring her a dress, Edan.”
“…A dress, sir?”
“I can’t have her walking around like that.”
“…Understood.”
Edan followed Castian’s gaze to Lydia’s appearance and nodded in understanding.
She was cloaked head-to-toe in a black hooded robe—practically screaming I’m a dark mage!
It would do no good if rumors spread that Castian was keeping a dark mage at his side.
Especially not if his mother, Marchioness Ellicia Bernstein, found out. That would be a disaster.
“I’ll handle it.”
Edan nodded with solemn resolve and left. Not long after, he returned with a cream-colored dress.
Castian, not in a position to be picky, clicked his tongue at the rough fabric as he inspected it.
I need to buy her proper clothes, he thought grimly as he placed the dress in front of Lydia.
“Change into this.”
Lydia took the dress and looked up at Castian.
Her large red eyes—even more striking against her pale skin—widened.
“Here?”
Was she supposed to change right in front of him?
Castian quickly turned around, flustered.
Behind him, Lydia sighed loudly as she stared at his broad back.
