Chapter 78
For a while, she stayed like that, then spoke with her eyes closed.
“…Would you stay by my side until I fall asleep again?”
At those words, Dietrich silently looked at her.
A tangle of emotions welled up inside him. Doubt mixed with worry over whether he had the right to remain by her side at all, and a selfish desire to stay with her to the very end.
When their eyes met—her golden-brown gaze locking with his—Dietrich unconsciously answered,
“Alright.”
His grip tightened. Just for today, he decided to allow himself this selfishness.
“I’ll stay right here, so sleep easy.”
Satisfied with that reply, she smiled softly and closed her eyes again.
Soon, the sound of her steady breathing filled the air, and Dietrich quietly watched her sleep.
Though Ciela did not know it, Dietrich remained at her side the entire night.
I should probably send a reply too.
He pulled the finest paper from the drawer and set his pen to it.
But time passed, and the nib would not move.
When the black ink finally pooled into a blot, he sighed deeply and drew out a fresh sheet.
This is my first time writing something like this… I’ve no idea what to say.
Especially when it came to a letter of thanks.
After much hesitation, Dietrich finally began to move his pen, writing slowly, carefully, as he thought of Ciela.
Before long, there was just one week left until Jack’s competition. Perhaps for his sake, Leonard extended his lessons with Jack by another hour.
Though I worried he might be overdoing it, Jack seemed eager, even stopping Leonard as he was leaving to ask about things he didn’t understand.
Spurred on by his example, the other children also fell into study mode, and the orphanage entered its quietest period yet.
“Ah, His Grace asked me to deliver this to the Director.”
Leonard, about to head upstairs with Jack, stopped and handed me something.
“From His Grace?”
Puzzled, I accepted it. A deep crimson envelope.
Back in my office, I broke the seal and drew out the letter.
Was it just my imagination, or did it carry that faint tea-like fragrance unique to the Duke?
But why a letter all of a sudden? I frowned slightly and began to read.
To my dear Ciela,
“…”
At the very first line, a strange feeling seized me. Never had I imagined hearing the word dear from the Duke—even in writing. It felt new, somehow.
I kept reading.
Thank you for the ginger tea and honey you sent. I assume it was through Leonard you heard of me. My illness is not severe, so you needn’t worry. I hear you’ve fully recovered. That’s truly a relief. I was very worried about you.
His handwriting is beautiful.
That was the thought that came to me as I read. Not ornate, but flowing and composed—elegant in its own way.
I let my eyes move down the page. Then suddenly, the spacing widened.
Huh?
Tilting my head, I found the next passage. The ink there had spread a little, as if he had pressed down after much hesitation.
But it saddens me that I cannot see you. If you were here, I could…
No, I’m rambling. I’ll make sure to drink the ginger tea you sent every day. Please take care of yourself as well.
Dietrich Creimann.
As I read the final line, a strange lingering warmth spread through me. Almost as if the Duke were right there beside me.
One thing was certain: he had poured genuine care into writing this.
This feeling… it’s odd.
Perhaps it was just because I had never exchanged letters with anyone before. Still, it left me flustered, almost giddy, as though I had grown closer to the Duke.
I’d better keep this safe.
I unlocked the drawer, laid the letter inside carefully so it wouldn’t get damaged, next to the healing and nullification Aeternums.
Click.
Even after locking the drawer, I remained lost in the afterglow.
Coming back to myself at last, I sat cross-legged to begin training as usual.
With the orphanage so quiet and the children all gathered in the dining hall, I thought I could devote myself wholly to practice.
But no matter how I tried, I couldn’t sense the flow of magic.
What if… I really have no talent at all?
It seemed entirely possible. Ciela herself wasn’t exactly an extraordinary person, so why should things be different for me, inhabiting her body?
Still, since I could sense foreign mana invading my body before, I thought maybe I had some aptitude…
But Aeternums themselves only worked if the body’s owner possessed at least some magical capacity.
The nullification Aeternum had been especially effective, so I had wondered, Could I have a gift for magic after all? Maybe not.
“Am I going to have to give up on magic…?”
Even if I couldn’t manage great feats, I at least wanted the ability to protect the children in an emergency.
Frustration welled up, and I let out another long sigh.
That was when a man’s voice broke the silence.
“What’s this? Already giving up?”
Startled, I snapped my head up—and there stood Vincente, arms crossed.
“You…”
“I gave you plenty of time. So, any progress?”
He stepped closer. I shook my head gloomily.
“No, nothing. I can’t feel a thing.”
“Hmm, so you gave up?”
“It’s not giving up. I just failed.”
“You couldn’t sense the mana?”
When he asked, I nodded.
“Yeah, not at all.”
“My word, you really are an idiot.”
This guy…
I wanted to protest his rudeness, but what could I say? I hadn’t even cleared step one.
“Hmph.”
When I only sighed in reply, Vincente gave me a strange look.
Then suddenly, he grabbed my hand. Startled, I widened my eyes at him.
“What are you doing?”
“Hold still. I’ll check for you.”
I hesitated, about to pull away, but stopped at his words.
Not that I expected much—if I couldn’t sense anything after all this time, then maybe I really was hopeless.
But then…
“What the hell, you…”
“What?”
Vincente’s expression hardened. I stared at him nervously.
“Now I see why you couldn’t sense the mana flow.”
“…?”
“There is no flow. That’s why you couldn’t feel it.”
“What do you mean?”
I frowned at his cryptic muttering. He just gave a dry, incredulous laugh.
“Exactly what I said. Mana is supposed to circulate through the body. But in you, it’s clogged—so full it has no space to move. That’s why there’s no flow to sense.”
“…”
“In short—you’ve got too much mana. I’ve never seen a case like this.”
He looked straight at me.
“Who are you, really?”
As if I could answer that.
I was just an unfortunate orphan, bitter enough about dying suddenly—only to end up reincarnated in the body of a corrupt orphanage director doomed to die. I couldn’t exactly explain that, could I?
“Well, whatever. Judging by your reaction, you didn’t know either. But the truth is, you never needed to feel the mana. If you try to release it, it’ll just come out naturally.”
At that, a wave of unfairness swept over me. All those hours cross-legged, straining to sense mana—completely pointless.
“So what do I do now?”
“Move on to the next stage.”
“By next stage, you mean… mana control?”
He nodded and snapped his fingers. In an instant, the scenery shifted.
This time, it wasn’t the cliffside from before, but a room. A sleek, black-toned interior.
On the desk, papers and books were neatly arranged. More striking, however, was the casual scattering of extremely expensive magical items.
“This is…”
“My room. Top floor of the Khan.”
I knew it.
I’d suspected as much the moment I saw those costly artifacts lying about.
Still, it was surprising. I hadn’t thought Vincente looked like someone diligent at his work—yet here were his documents, carefully organized.
“What? Why are you staring like that?”
“No reason. So why bring me here?”
“For step two.”
He waved a hand lazily, and a book flew off the tightly packed shelves, landing neatly in my arms.
Blinking, I looked down at it, then back at him.
“To control mana, you need to know about something called ‘formulae.’ In ancient times they called them magic circles. That book’s basically a compilation of such formulae—a reference manual, if you will.”
“This book is…?”
I stared at the tome in astonishment. From what he said, it sounded like no ordinary book.
“And since it’s a hassle, let’s just do step two and step three together.”
