Chapter 47
The content of the dream was largely the same.
The setting was the lush birch forest of the Grand Duchy. Petunia was sitting in the shade of a birch tree, and I was lying down with my head resting on her lap.
And then…
“Snap out of it!”
Apollyon slapped his own cheek so hard that it made a sharp smack. He hit it with such force that his face swelled up as if stung by a bee.
Anyway, this was the kind of dream that kept him awake night after night.
Whenever he faced Petunia after such a dream, he felt so guilty that he couldn’t even lift his head.
It was only a matter of time before perceptive Petunia would notice his unusual behavior. She tended to examine his face in detail every time she looked at him.
Apollyon grew anxious. He started worrying that Petunia might figure out what was going on.
Above all, thinking like this while looking at her made him feel like a perverted, abnormal person.
Even when he met her casually, a certain passage from a novel he had read replayed in his mind.
“He felt an irresistible urge to leave a mark on her pale neck. He wanted to bury his nose into the hollowed part and inhale all of her sweet scent.”
“I’ve lost it…”
“Huh? What’s that?”
The words ‘I’ve finally gone insane’ nearly slipped from his throat, but Apollyon barely managed to hold them back.
Around that time, word came that there was business to handle in the central region of the Grand Duchy, so he eagerly packed his things and headed to the Lunatia mansion.
He acted under the hope that staying away from Petunia for a few days would calm his mind.
But his efforts proved futile. Even at the Lunatia mansion, the dreams didn’t change.
Petunia, leaning against the window and looking at him, appeared utterly enchanting. Her pale skin seemed to absorb the moonlight, and her icy blue eyes were piercing. Everything about her was overwhelmingly stimulating.
Every time he closed his eyes, waves of self-disgust washed over him, and he banged his head on the bed’s headboard dozens of times in agony.
But opening his eyes didn’t make a difference. Worries and anxieties came to him even while awake.
“Why did she even give me this book…?”
Apollyon racked his brain, trying to understand Petunia’s intentions in giving him such a book.
‘…Does she want me to do… that with her? But she’s been quiet these past few days… Or maybe she thinks I’m too clueless to understand this… Or did she give it to tease me? But I don’t think she’s that cruel…’
In truth, Petunia had no idea what was happening at all.
Apollyon tore at his hair, silently screaming. He had no clue how to act in front of Petunia, whether he should even ask about the book, or how to phrase the question if he did.
He spent a lot of time on meaningless tasks, like counting the patterns on the wallpaper or the chirps of sparrows. But even these distractions weren’t enough to calm the boiling heat in his chest.
Eventually, he went to the training grounds and picked up his sword.
He began swinging it with the intent of cutting away the surging thoughts in his mind.
Though physically exhausting, his head cleared as a result. After hours of sweating, the heat in his chest seemed to subside somewhat. There was no better exercise for regaining mental stability.
He increasingly spent more and more time immersed in martial arts.
＊＊＊
Thunk, thunk, thunk!
“What’s that noise…?”
I woke up to the dull sound of rain hitting the window. Thick raindrops pelted the glass. It was early morning rain.
This was the first time it had rained so heavily since arriving here. A few days ago, there had been some drizzle, but it had stopped quickly.
The heavy rain made the previously clear morning of the Grand Duchy feel drenched and gray.
“How refreshing.”
Was this what it meant to be moved by the atmosphere? Feeling a bit sentimental, I opened the window and held my hand out. The rain poured onto my face instead of my hand.
“Ugh.”
I spat out the muddy taste of the water. I had tried to set a mood for myself, only to end up swallowing a mouthful of rain.
Shaking off the wet from my face, I closed the window. In that brief moment, the curtains and carpet had been ruined by the rain.
My face and hair were as soaked as a drowned mouse.
I turned toward the bathroom to get a dry towel.
“…Who’s there?”
In the dimly lit garden, only occasionally illuminated by moonlight, a large figure stood motionless. Judging by the size and height, it seemed to be a man.
He seemed unconcerned about the rain, standing as it poured heavily on him.
“A thief?”
All sorts of negative thoughts flooded my mind. A man sneaking into someone’s garden in the middle of the night? Clearly an intruder.
Or maybe an assassin.
My thoughts escalated, and a warning light seemed to flash in my head. I had to wake someone before something serious happened.
“…But why is the thief just standing there?”
If he intended to steal or harm someone, he should have come further into the mansion. Yet the man only stood still, focusing on nothing but the rain.
“A ghost?!”
I realized the words had slipped out of my mouth too late, and I stepped back, mouth agape.
I must have looked completely foolish, but that didn’t matter right now.
“R-Relax!”
Maybe it was just my imagination. They said you see things when your spiritual energy is weak.
But I knew better. My body was in no way drained. I ate the nutritious meals the chef carefully prepared every day, so I was far from weak—too healthy, in fact.
“Okay, calm down.”
I snapped my own cheek to wake myself, and the stinging sensation brought back some sense.
Rubbing my eyes, I looked out the window again. The shadowy figure was still there, not gone.
My legs almost gave way, but I held onto the window frame and took deep breaths.
“Yes… fantasy! It’s fantasy!”
This was a fantasy world with monsters and magicians. Of course, ghosts could exist.
After all, the most ridiculous thing was that I had been transported into a book in the first place.
Right, right. That made sense.
Feeling slightly reassured, I closed the curtains. I dashed back to the bed and buried myself in the covers, sleep more desperately needed than ever.
But after seeing something so shocking, how could I fall asleep easily?
My heart raced, my skin crawled with goosebumps, and the rain only reminded me of all the scary stories I’d heard as a child.
“Ugh…”
After tossing and turning for a long time, I finally got up.
Peeking through the curtains a little, I saw the shadowy figure under a tree. He was in the same spot, but his posture had changed.
“Ah, I don’t know!”
I ran my hands through my hair, threw on a robe that had been hanging on a clothes rack, and slipped my arms in.
“Why do I have to see this…”
Even as I said that, I faithfully drew on paper: a large cross and a tiger.
I carefully folded the paper with the cross and tiger and put it in my pocket before leaving the room.
＊＊＊
“Na-mu-a-mi-ta-bul-gwan-se-eum-bosal…”
I muttered a prayer I vaguely remembered, taking a cautious step forward. With each step, I sprinkled salt around.
“God, Buddha, mountain spirits… someone’s watching you, you bastard…”
I then took a clove of raw garlic from my pocket and chewed it. The sharp aroma stung my nose and made my eyes water.
“You ghost bastard, I can’t sleep because of you… No, I’m sorry for cursing. I was wrong. So please, just go away, okay?”
I poked at the flowers in the garden with a silver fork, muttering to myself. To anyone watching, it would look like I had completely lost my mind.
After walking for a while, the heavy rain made it hard to see anything. The moon was hidden behind clouds, and no light reached the garden.
“Hey! Hey! Where did you go? Did you go home?”
After walking for some time without seeing anything, I shouted loudly. I wanted to break the eerie atmosphere.
Before entering the house, shouting like this was similar to experiences everyone had—asserting oneself and preparing mentally. It was a form of self-defense.
Of course, I didn’t shout too loudly for fear of waking the staff.
“Did he really leave?”
I quickly scanned the surroundings. The shadow seemed to have vanished. Relief mixed with a strange unease.
Ghosts always seem to disappear like this, only to suddenly reappear with a boom.
I debated whether to look around the garden more or return to my room. I thought it best to leave before anything unnecessary happened.
Perhaps the ghost had disappeared precisely so I could leave.
I turned toward the path on the right side of the mansion—but then, I dropped the fork I was holding.
Under a tree in the distance, something was there.
