Chapter 20

The blood-soaked boy turned toward the door and saw a red-haired sorcerer. Lawrence von Bruyere, who brought his white-haired disciple, moved his lips with a hardened expression.

“Your Highness, Grand Duke.”

“…Don’t call me Grand Duke!”

Lawrence paused briefly at the boy’s fierce outburst.

“The late Grand Duke and Grand Duchess have passed away. From today, you inherit the title of Grand Duke of Schwert, and tomorrow you must take up the post of Commander-in-Chief to lead us in the Third Human-Monster War, which will break out again. That is your position. Have you forgotten?”

“…….”

“Do you not intend to avenge your parents?”

At the harsh words of his master, the white-haired disciple gasped and flinched behind him. That only made the fifteen-year-old Erich von Schwert glare more fiercely. As if to break his anger, Lawrence murmured slowly.

“I too never imagined the late Grand Duke and Grand Duchess would fall like this, in such a way.”

“Mother… was pregnant…”

She had told him to keep it secret, not to announce it yet.

And then.

Fifteen-year-old Erich turned his broken gaze to the horrific scene. His father was dead. His mother was dead.

Of course, the sibling in her womb must have died too. He had wondered if it would be a sister or brother.

“My condolences.”

Lawrence whispered softly.

“Your Highness, you have three people to avenge.”

The boy slowly clenched his hand.

Blood from his family dripped from his fist, and outside the window, lightning raged wildly. Lightning struck so fiercely it was maddening.

He swore.

He would never forget this moment, not even in death.

* * *

Beatrice selected exactly five branches from the lightning-struck jujube tree and half-jumped down from the tree.

Facing the leader of the Puca, Erich von Schwert stood frozen, his face pale. There was no color in his lips, a clear sign of how much pain he was in.

That’s why she wanted to do it herself…

Beatrice thumped the annoying man’s head—something she’d never dare do otherwise—and covered his eyes with her hand.

The man staggered briefly. He seemed to faint. Catching him from behind as he collapsed, Beatrice glared irritably at the Puca.

Then the bright yellow eyes, which had been staring persistently at Erich, clicked and now focused on her.

Beatrice immediately avoided its gaze.

She knew well that meeting its eyes would trap her in the past, so she wasn’t foolish enough to have a staring contest. Turning her gaze away, she witnessed a chilling scene.

The Pucas were gathering toward them.

Black feathers clouded her vision. The strangely ominous smell of burning. The bitter and dry taste of the air. Wind scratching at her cheeks. And then.

「It’s not over-!」

The booming scream startled Beatrice, making her hug Erich tighter.

Hurriedly scanning her surroundings, she looked at the Puca leader with displeasure. If her guess was right, the source of that scream was that… black bird.

Really? The Puca can speak?

As if to dispel her doubts, the gathered Pucas opened their beaks simultaneously, as if they had agreed in advance.

「It’s not over!」

A thunderous chorus. Beatrice, hugging the man in her arms, opened and closed her eyes. With a cold gaze that knew the taste of blood from slaughtering monsters, she stared at the Pucas.

“Hey. Learn to mention the subject in your sentences, you damned birds.”

“…….”

“Do you want me to pluck all your feathers?”

Even without meeting their eyes, it was a fairly tense standoff. The Puca showed anger, Beatrice showed k*lling intent, neither bothering to hide it.

It was truly a moment on the verge of explosion.

The Puca leader suddenly stomped its foot hard. Apparently a retreat signal, the gathered Pucas all flew up and perched on the jujube tree’s branches. Then a rainstorm of black feathers slapped Beatrice’s cheeks.

As if it was some kind of punishment.

Beatrice irritably brushed off the feathers and clicked her tongue. Then she left with the unconscious man.

She needed to get out of the jujube tree’s domain as quickly as possible.

Beatrice found a settee in a sunny spot and laid down the heavy, nearly crushing burden. She grumbled inwardly about whether his body was made only of muscle, then realized her complaint was true.

A warrior’s body trained with spiritual power would be full of muscle…

It was a relief Erich von Schwert didn’t know what she was thinking. If he did, he’d surely tease her for being thick-headed.

“Ugh.”

What’s so pretty about this guy anyway.

Grumbling inwardly, Beatrice took out three moonstones from her inventory and planted them in a triangle shape on the ground.

They allowed her to borrow the power of the moon even during daylight hours. After infusing spiritual power to make the moonstones shine, she bit her index finger. With the blood that welled up, she drew runes symbolizing healing on the man’s palms.

Color returned to Erich von Schwert’s once pale face.

“Idiot.”

Taking advantage of his unconsciousness, she thumped his head again. Erich von Schwert must never know about this.

* * *

When Erich von Schwert finally opened his eyes, the surroundings were bathed in golden sunlight. After blinking a few times, he recognized a sweet, soft singing voice.

He had heard Beatrice sing only rarely.

Near the end of the war, when she sang the <Song of Recovery> to soothe the ruined land. Listening quietly, he felt a gentle hand threateningly grab his hair.

“You should say something if you’re awake.”

“I’m awake.”

“…….”

“So, did you bring the branches?”

“Thanks to you.”

Beatrice hesitated for some reason and covered his eyes with her hand.

“Sorry.”

At the mysterious whisper, Erich tilted his head. Then he realized he was resting his head on Beatrice Winter’s thigh.

He didn’t know what she was so sorry for, but she seemed very sorry. Even offering her precious thigh as a pillow.

“I thought it would be better to find branches here than in the ‘Forest of Lightning’ or ‘Thunder Wasteland.’ For you. But maybe it wasn’t the most effective consideration.”

“I think I should be the one saying sorry.”

“Hm?”

“…Back then. I glared at you at the scene. Sorry. It was just venting.”

“Ah, that time? It was definitely unfair. My master made the harsh remark, not me, so I wondered why you glared at me.”

At her honest words, Erich choked. Coughing repeatedly, Beatrice removed her hand from his eyes.

“Why? Did I say something wrong?”

“No, it’s just that the phrase ‘harsh remark’ was a bit funny.”

“It was harsh. Counting the number of people to avenge in front of someone who lost their family.”

“…….”

“No matter how much I respect my master, there are things I can’t defend.”

“You’re quite sharp.”

He was the one trained with a sword, after all.

At Beatrice’s sharpness, Erich smiled wryly while lying down. Beatrice looked down at him and raised one eyebrow in a questioning way.

“So, is that why you acted like a jerk to me at the start of the war?”

“Hm?”

“After fighting all day and nearly dying from exhaustion, you dragged me out every night to run five laps.”

“Your stamina was that bad, Beatrice Winter. And you’re not one to talk. When you were about to pass out, you gave me ritual lessons for two hours straight without letting me sleep.”

“…….”

“You got your revenge, didn’t you?”

Apparently out of words, Beatrice rolled her eyes dramatically.

“Let’s call it even.”

“Shall we?”

“By the way, I’m curious when will you, who’s thick-headed by definition, will finally move that heavy head of yours, Grand Duke.”

“Endure. That’s an order.”

“Respected Grand Duke, may I collect some of your hair?”

“Do you think you can?”

Annoyed, Beatrice furrowed her brow tightly. Even knowing her lips were crooked, Erich didn’t move.

He liked this moment.

The gentle breeze, her flowing white hair. The scent of forget-me-nots he missed, and her hand slowly stroking his hair.