Part 2 – Episode 40
Raphael was silent.
…
And so was I.
…
When I met his merciless crimson gaze, I recalled the warning I’d heard just before I fell asleep:
“Rest. We’ll talk about the details tomorrow. Tomorrow. Without fail.”
Right—he’d definitely said that.
But of all times to confront me, it was in my original form… Raphael was sure to unleash a tirade of nagging at me.
Still, every day was urgent for me now. But since I understood that Raphael cared a lot about me, I had no choice but to give him at least a three-line summary of my situation.
“Going back to Weatherwoods, Viscount Weatherwoods?”
Surprisingly, his question came out rather calmly.
Huh? He didn’t seem in a bad mood today. Perhaps the Trevia Messita situation had been resolved smoothly? I dove straight into my summary:
“Four years ago, I nearly died facing Rein. But that perverted creep still hasn’t given up—he’s even harassing my gone family now. I need to go back and assess the situation.”
Raphael’s brow furrowed instantly.
“You nearly died? What do you mean by that exactly?”
“Literally. I woke up after recovering, and four years had passed? Oh, let me be clear—there’s no grudge between me and Rein. But he’s clearly still after me. His target is my heart.”
He gripped his forehead and exhaled sharply.
“Ha… That damned bastard. Your heart? The Calamity Rein is targeting your heart? And you wandered the brink of death for four years, yet you’re acting like it’s nothing…!”
He lunged as if to grab my collar, then froze, probably seeing that I was Daisy, and his fist just trembled with suppressed fury.
“You….”
Raphael gritted his teeth, breathing heavily.
Look at those menacing veins bulging on his knuckles. If I were still Andert, he’d have punched me by now. Long live being Daisy.
“What will you do once you return there?”
“Haven’t decided yet.”
Truthfully, I omitted details to avoid another lecture—something like, “If you’ve just regained your senses, shouldn’t you rest and discuss plans instead of trudging north to flirt with death again? Or is it that you want to reunite again after four years?”
“Fine, Viscount Weatherwoods.”
He placed his hands on his hips, sighed briefly, and leveled me with a look.
“…Don’t worry about the Trevia Messita situation. We handled it… somehow.”
“Glad to hear it. I thought you’d be sold off to some other country without a fight.”
But how had he resolved it?
Before I could ask, Raphael turned his back and waved dismissively.
“Head home first. We’ll talk again in Midwinterre.”
Talk again? The phrasing felt odd. Was he planning to send a letter?
Then, like lightning, realization struck.
This sensation—yes, it was definitely dread. “We’ll talk again in Midwinterre”…? Was he threatening to track me down there to continue his nagging?
I tried to grab his arm to tell him to take back that statement, but a figure materialized like the wind, blocking Raphael.
The face was a bit unfamiliar, but I’d definitely seen it before.
Rue.
Now that I could properly observe him, he’d taken the form of a woman barely past twenty.
Her long, sunlit blonde hair shimmered in the breeze, and her small face brimmed with a smile so vibrant it seemed to radiate life itself.
A rustic dress, worn shoes, and a large brown satchel—likely inherited from her father—completed the image of an innocent country girl, wholly out of place in the imperial capital.
“Good day, Your Grace, Duke Zenail! Quite hot today, isn’t it? Summer must be on its way!”
In stark contrast to cheerful Rue (who was posing as a woman), Raphael’s expression remained hidden—he still had his back to me.
But based on years of experience with him, that rigid posture screamed, “I have a thousand things to say, but I’ll bite my tongue.”
The way he paused mid-step for a moment before resuming his path confirmed it. That reaction definitely seemed to tell he seemed to recognise this was Rue.
Rue approached me, his smile unwavering.
“Shall we return? I’ve already informed Grand Duchess Halo that urgent matters require our temporary absence.”
“In that form?”
Rue’s smile deepened.
“Yes. The guise of a lovely, innocent country girl who rescued you from Spolia’s clutches.”
He took my hand and led me to the waiting carriage.
“About Spolia’s clutches…”“Indeed. The same foolish Mesita who demanded you under the pretext of the Seventy-Year Covenant.”
I recalled the disturbingly refined madman I’d met on the train to Brisher.
“You… those who transcended the walls through the adversity of the Magic War. We’ve spent ages tracking candidates worthy of ascending as the Fifth God.”
Did the ‘we’ he was talking about this ‘God’s Knights Order’?
“What exactly is this ‘God’s Knights’?”
The perpetual smile on Rue’s lips twisted subtly.
“Spolia’s prized exhibition hall. A gilded greenhouse where he corrals his favorite dolls.”
“Dolls?”
“His children.”
“Children? They gathered their children to form a knight order?”
Given that Spolia is said to be the second oldest after Rue—around 150 years old—and a playboy rivaling the Sword Saint, I assumed they’d sired countless offspring across countless lovers…
“Spolia birthed half of those children.”
Half.
‘Ah, so Spolia’s female? The form I saw on the train was male, so I assumed…’
How could I, of all people, make that mistake with Rue around? Right—half are Spolia’s own flesh and blood… but the other half? Who birthed those?
Men can’t give birth. The only possibility is that Spolia transformed into a woman and…
“Don’t tell me advanced transformation magic can replicate reproductive functions…”
“Impossible. Does a man grow a uterus just by shapeshifting? You could fake one, but it’d be a hollow imitation. Tampering with true procreation is true divine territory. No one can touch that—except one.”
And that one would be…
“Spolia.”
Rue nodded in affirmation.
“He bloomed the power of life itself. He’s obsessed with the blood of pioneers, so he uses any means necessary… and would go to any lengths to claim a hero like you—beautiful, valiant.”
‘So there’s no confirmation that he’s a woman either.’
How strange.Normally, Rue would smirk ominously and ask, “Shall I kill him?”—but today, he just frowned. Was this restraint that he was showing part of his current persona?
“I must’ve slept too long. Everything sounds new to me now.”
“Is our Daisy finally taking an interest in the world? Ignorance isn’t all bad, but knowledge makes certain things simpler.”
Once we were back at Weatherwoods, I’d need to investigate exactly what happened while I was asleep..
“…Oh. Rue, why did you change into this form again?”
“I got you, Andert Fager, married so they couldn’t drag you away. I’ve graciously become your shield.”
Classic Rue logic.
“What did you tell Trevia?”
Instead of answering, he showed me the book he’d been holding in his arms:
<Vol. 1: The Hero Who Regained His Memories is Obsessed With Me>
Haha.
* * *
We arrived at Midwinterre.
Thanks to the events of the past week, the Weatherwoods Estate—no, the Grey Spear Guild headquarters—looked far more impressive than I remembered.
Unlike before, the headquarters was eerily quiet. So quiet that not a single soul greeted the return of the “legitimate Guild Master.”
Was the assassin-butler waiting in the office instead?
I climbed the stairs and opened the office door. There, an uninvited figure sat on the “legitimate Guild Master’s” reception sofa and raised his head.
A familiar welcome smile followed.
“Ah, here already? Earlier than expected.”
The nape of my neck prickled.
It was the Swordmaster.—-
Get you a man who is eager to get married to every one of your identities (they’re literally married as Rue and Daisy, as the former Viscount Weatherwoods and Morian Serenier, and now even Andert Fager and whatever this is… LMAOO)
