“Duke.”
At the repeated urging, Sijun finished dressing and left the bathroom.
“What would you like for breakfast?”
“Who am I?”
The butler raised his head and spoke.
“You are the duke.”
“No. Tell me more about me.”
The butler looked at Sijun with a puzzled expression.
Sijun prompted a response with his gaze.
“You are Ian Loenbaum, the 24th head of the Loenbaum family, ruling the northern part of the Arandes Empire, my lord.”
‘Damn.’
Sijun, cursing internally, spoke to the butler.
“Leave me alone for a moment.”
“My lord, there’s an urgent matter—”
“Leave.”
Hesitant, the butler bowed and exited the room.
‘Why is like this…
Sinking onto the bed, Sijun sighed.
<Reincarnated and Flowers Bloom in the Garden>
This cheesy line belonged to a romance fantasy novel where a woman in her twenties, after being possessed, interacts with male characters, earns money, and fights against the villainous black mage who torments her.
The novel, so famous that it was adapted into a webtoon, was also a favorite of Sijun’s niece.
With little time to spend with his niece, Sijun chose this novel as a means to engage in conversation with her.
Solely for the sake of conversations with his niece, he read and reread the sentences to memorize them.
Whenever the story of this novel came up, Sijun’s niece, who used to be shy around him, would light up and become talkative, all thanks to the novel.
“Why.”
Being reincarnated into a different world and as a different person, it was just his luck that the character his niece loved from the novel became him.
‘A curse? Or punishment for a sin?’
Either way, every breath in this new life seemed destined to be painful.
[<Origin> states that there was a reason it had to come here.]
“… Can’t you tell me what that reason is?”
Realizing the cut-off message implied an inability to reveal the reason, Sijun sighed and posed another question.
“Can a novel become another dimension?”
[<Origin> says not all books are like that; only books written by people who reads the flow are possible.]
[<Well of Mana> sighs, saying, ‘Ah, the flow.’]
“What is the flow?”
Hearing that the novel his niece liked wasn’t just a simple story but the flow of a different world, Sijun asked.
[<Origin> wrinkles its impression, saying the flow is like glimpses of the future.]
[<Well of Mana> mentions that sometimes gods create a flow because they want to see the future, and souls that have received the touch of an ancient god might inadvertently glimpse it.]
[<Well of Mana> explains that if someone in the same dimension sees it, it becomes a prophecy, and if someone from another dimension sees it, it becomes a novel.]
“Then, does that mean I can’t die yet?”
Ian Loenbaum, the character who dies during the winter monster subjugation in the novel.
Sijun looked out the window.
Seeing lush green leaves and sunlight pouring down as if it were still summer felt odd.
It was strange that the original Ian had died even though it was still summer.
[<Well of Mana> says that a god from another world mentioned there was a reason you had to come.]
‘A reason to come?’
Sijun furrowed his brow.
Then, he threw another question at the vague statement.
“So, are you saying my possession is also the will of the god here?”
[<Well of Mana> nods.]
[<Origin> says we can send messages to you in another dimension because the gods of this dimension allowed it.]
Everything is possible because the gods permitted it.
Sijun sighed.
Just like on Earth, he couldn’t fathom what the gods desired of him.
“So, should I embrace the future according to the planned course?”
[<Well of Mana> says it’s up to you to decide that.]
Sijun tilted his head.
“Didn’t you mention it’s a prophecy?”
[<Origin> wrinkles its impression, saying, ‘The flow and prophecy are not always the definitive answer.’]
[<Well of Mana> says there’s no set future; everything changes according to the path humans take.]
Sijun, satisfied with the answers of the Thrones, smiled.
Realizing this place was like the novel his niece loved, he couldn’t bring himself to endure it any longer.
However, if they say it’s up to him, it means there’s no need to wait until winter.
[<Well of Mana Spring> suggests receiving a gift first and then thinking about it.]
At the mention of a ‘gift,’ Sijun’s eyebrows raised in suspicion.
“A gift, you say?”
The Thrones, who loved their young master dearly, had showered him with numerous gifts, whether he wanted them or not.
There were gifts that helped in dungeon clears, but more often, there were gifts like potions that made one smaller, bracelets that gave animal ears when worn, fulfilling the Thrones whims.
Another ‘gift’ in a situation like this? Regardless of its nature, Sijun wasn’t inclined to accept it.
“I don’t need a gift.”
[<Well of Mana> smiles and says to speak after receiving the gift.]
“What on earth did you prepare…”
Just as Sijun was about to inquire about the gift, a knock echoed.
“My lord.”
Sijun opened the door at the butler’s earnest voice.
“My lord, I apologize, but a guest is waiting.”
“A guest?”
In the novel Sijun had possessed, Ian Loenbaum was originally a frail person.
The previous Duke and Duchess did not favor such a fragile Ian.
To mold him into the ideal Duke they envisioned, they didn’t hesitate to resort to violence, verbal abuse, and even imprisonment.
The frail Ian couldn’t endure this, and eventually, the continuous abuse made him extremely fearful of people.
After the tragic carriage accident of the previous Duke and Duchess, Ian inherited the dukedom.
However, the newly fearful Ian delegated all authority to his subordinates, expelled even the servants, and secluded himself in his room.
He didn’t participate in the annual meetings or the winter expeditions that should be carried out each year.
‘The first time he went out after inheriting the dukedom was for that winter expedition.’
It wasn’t a casual outing; it was a painful life filled with fearsome things, an attempt to end the agonizing existence.
In a way, it was a choice similar to the one Sijun made on Earth.
Nevertheless, a sudden guest for him?
In response to Yoon Sijun’s puzzled gaze, the butler bowed and replied.
“A child claiming to be Lady Marianne’s daughter has come.”
“Marianne’s… daughter?”
“Yes. The girl claims to be the daughter of the lady and brought a pendant that only the direct heirs of the family can possess.”
‘Ah, it’s today.’
Yoon Sijun nodded.
Rose Loenbaum, the niece of the character Sijun possessed, was depicted as the villain tormenting the female protagonist in the novel and eventually meeting her demise at the hands of the male lead.
Sijun turned his head towards the butler.
“Go ahead.”
The butler courteously guided Sijun.
As the reclusive Duke emerged from his room, the servants hushed, but Sijun, seemingly oblivious to the glances, kept his eyes forward and followed the butler.
“This is it.”
The butler stopped in a small reception room.
Responding to the soft knocks and Sebastian’s muffled response from inside, Sijun opened the door.
Behind the dark sofa, a small head that seemed childlike was visible.
The hair, which was supposed to be a wheat-colored, was filled with dust.
“Have you arrived, my lord.”
When the waiting knight bowed to Sijun, the small figure flinched and promptly rose from the seat.
Huddled shoulders turned as the figure faced away.
A petite and slender body, appearing much younger than five.
Clothes that seemed to have collected all kinds of dust and faded black hair.
Rose-colored eyes.
Sijun’s eyes widened upon seeing the child.
Despite the difference in hair and eye color, the face was identical.
Sparkling big eyes, a button-like nose, cute lips, and even the small mole on the cheek that his sister used to kiss—all mirrored in this child.
On top of that, a soul with a beautiful blend of obsidian and golden hues.
The only color that reminded him of a sunrise was the same color as the soul of Yoori that he have seen since becoming a total baby
“H-hello… Du, duke.”
Seeing the stiff Sijun, the child greeted with a trembling voice.
The surroundings blurred in an instant.
It was when Sijun approached the trembling child with caution.
[How is it? A pleasing gift, isn’t it?]
Hearing the whisper of <Origin>, Sijun knelt before the child.
“Baby.”
Though the child’s face kept fluctuating between blurriness and brightness, the tears didn’t cease.
Smiling the best smile he could muster, Sijun embraced the trembling child.
“Thank you for coming to me.”
Sijun tightly held the child, whom he thought he could never embrace again.
The warmth made him realize this wasn’t a dream, and the tears continued to flow.
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