Foresight (3)
Asella's staff spewed golden mana in a bizarre direction. The five magic circles drawn in the air formed an artistic sculpture from the rift of a higher dimension.
Ah.
In the midst of the smooth incantation, the final magic circle squeaked and twisted off course. Was it because she was a bit excited in front of Ras? Foresight was a spell that was difficult no matter how many times she cast it.
—Whoosh!
Asella's vision was sucked in. The next moment—
—Roar!
The winter breath vanished, replaced by scorching heat. A massive fire blazed before her eyes. The Gotberg mansion was burning.
Ugh.
An intense headache struck Asella. Unlike before, the casting was unstable. Her consciousness felt like it would snap away at any moment. It was like piecing together shattered film reels and fast-forwarding them in a projector.
Her mouth shouted on its own.
"The house—my house!"
"Neria! Sibers! Is no one there?!"
"I'm the spirit of the marquisate! You there—put out the mansion fire right now!"
What?
Asella was confused. It wasn't her voice. But it was one she knew well.
Ras. This is Ras's perspective.
Seymour's advice had been spot on. Casting Foresight outside the imperial palace gave her a fresh experience.
After the Gotbergs were exterminated for treason.
But it was far from pleasant. Overwhelming despair crushed her. It was undoubtedly what Ras would feel. She—Ras—rushed toward the collapsing mansion, hurling a bucket to somehow douse the flames. The pitiful amount of water evaporated like sprinkling ashes into a vast ocean, utterly ineffective. This was the scene of the Gotberg family's final erasure from history.
—Fwoosh!
Her vision jumped again. Same place. The Gotberg mansion—or rather, the plot where it once stood. Now a barren wasteland of ruins.
"Fine land indeed! Stupid empire dogs, abandoning such a prime spot!"
"From now on, this is Thunder Tribe territory!"
"Follow the chieftain! Obey! Praise her!"
The northern walls that the Gotbergs had guarded crumbled. Hulking warriors clad in furs, axes in hand, poured in like a flood.
Barbarians.
Also called barbarians, they roamed the extreme northern wilds beyond the empire's borders, without a shred of civilization. The emboldened barbarian horde charged toward the empire. The last imperial citizens clinging to life in the north were brutally ravaged. That was the end of what had once been the Gotberg marquisate.
She—Ras, stripped of his castle—watched from hiding and fled. His ragged breaths mixed sorrow and solitude. In the chaos, his legs tangled, and he collapsed onto the cold ground. Blood stained the hands clutching his mouth. Clenching his fists in frustration changed nothing. Ras's pain pierced Asella's heart like a dagger. The grief of losing family, regret over wasted time, hatred for the world—it all surged in.
In the emotional whirlwind, Asella made a vow.
This future must never happen.
It was fine if Ras struggled and clung to her when things didn't go his way. She even wanted to see him get in over his head once or twice. But not utter, irreparable ruin.
His Majesty will soon pass from illness.
He might recover, but someone would plot his assassination. Then, all related physicians and healers would be executed for treason. In the future she'd seen, she herself, as the next emperor, carried it out—but someone would do it regardless.
Ras must not be involved.
Or the north would fall, allowing barbarian incursions.
I can't tell Ras. He wouldn't believe it, and rash action could ruin everything.
In reality, it might not be years away but tomorrow.
I have to stop it.
That was Asella's resolve.
—Whoosh!
Her vision shifted again.
Huh? I'm back.
The Gotberg marquisate mansion. All was quiet. The warm sunlight stung her eyes slightly. A gentle breeze rustled the fully bloomed yellow rose garden, producing a pleasant sound.
In the center of the rose garden. A woman's back, delightfully basking in the full spring air. Her waist, hidden in a simple dress, was slender. The wind tousled her snow-white hair, grown long enough to reach her waist, strand by strand. The sunlight-reflecting white hair gleamed almost silver.
Who is she?
Asella took a step toward her. And just as she turned her head toward Asella—
—Flash!
"Eut."
Asella collapsed, clutching an enormous headache.
"Princess."
Ras was already supporting her, arm around her waist. Asella dropped her staff and gasped for breath.
"You overdid it. Using 5th hierarchy, no less."
"No, it usually works fine…."
"I'll prescribe something."
"Huh, okay?"
Ras knelt before her with an urgent expression. Facing him up close, Asella unwittingly held her breath.
Ras placed a hand on her cheek. His hand was larger than expected—enough to cup her entire face.
"You're having a nosebleed."
"Didn't notice."
"Don't tilt your head back."
Ras meticulously wiped her nose with gauze.
"As you know, higher hierarchy magic burdens the mana circuits more. Practice is good, but don't cast it too often."
"…Got it."
Maybe because he held her face, she felt compelled to obey meekly.
"What spell was it?"
"Hm… a fun one."
"Haha, didn't look fun. There was a flash, and you collapsed."
"Didn't realize it looked like that."
"If it's fireworks magic, there's something more efficient than 5th hierarchy, right?"
"Yeah. Lots."
Asella lightly drew two circles and ignited sparks.
"It's warm."
"Efficient, huh?"
Asella giggled. The dried blood had frozen, making her sniffle. She recalled the scenes from Foresight.
"Ras, what was your mother like?"
"I don't know well. Don't remember."
"Hm. Probably had pure white hair like you?"
"Likely."
Could Foresight show the past, not just the future? It wasn't visible only to her either. New discoveries.
She'd never have learned if she'd only practiced in the palace her whole life.
And one more realization: If Ras vanished from her side for treason, as seen—despairing, raging, dying…
…I don't want that.
She wanted this man around a bit longer.
"Ras."
"Yes."
"From now on, just listen to me."
"Haha, sure."
Ras laughed obliviously. Without Foresight, she'd never have known this crisis.
…I want to see more futures. All of them.
That was Asella's thought.
"Shall we get up? It's cold—time to head in."
"Already? No. Let's go into town."
"You had a nosebleed. No."
"Hm… then that forest over there."
Asella pointed to the willow grove inside the mansion grounds. Ras shrugged.
"Sure, why not."
Ras stood, taking her hand. Surprised by the sudden touch, Asella glared.
"Why grab my hand?"
"It's cold. You were making fire, so you're warm."
"I'm a heater now?"
"More like a hot pack than a heater."
Asella scowled and scooped snow from the ground with her other hand, stuffing it down Ras's neck.
"Can't believe a month flew by. Ras, take care of yourself."
"I'll be waiting, big brother!"
My subjectively short vacation ended, and I was seen off by Father and Neria.
"Young master, contact us next time too! Bring capital sweets!"
Boris and the knights and servants gathered to bid farewell.
"Good to be back at the marquisate after so long."
That was Bruno's sentiment.
"Don't skimp on vacations for you guys either."
"I prefer overtime pay."
Bruno was serious. I'd take less pay for this work-life balance. Definitely a good vacation, as he said. Just knowing there's a home to return to strengthens the heart.
"No matter what, I have to protect the family."
"Excellent attitude."
Tanya, walking out with us, responded to my mutter. She wouldn't know what I was thinking.
Time to prepare for the family's extermination.
Not tied to bad endings, but a must-solve issue.
The Gotbergs are wiped out for treason. Father executed, mansion burned, marquisate seized by barbarians. If the family falls, I lose my physician post and get expelled from the palace.
I've already altered history enough that Father's involvement is less likely.
On the day the emperor worsens, Father is summoned as a healer, errs with Ambrosia, and kills him. Whether true accident or not, no proof at the time. Years later, after Asella ascends, it's revealed as assassination, and involved healers executed for treason.
I didn't experience it directly, but it's seared in my body memories. I snuck into the capital square and witnessed the execution. Harrowing scene.
Tanya believed in Father to the end.
Years until the emperor's crisis, but if the real culprit moves first, it could accelerate. Palace will react fast—preparations needed.
Thinking that, we reached the main road where Asella's main force waited.
For some reason, I asked Asella in her carriage.
"Princess, the teleport gate is nearby—did you need the carriage too?"
"Oh, didn't I tell you?"
"What?"
Asella peeked out, eyes crinkling slyly.
"We're not going to the palace."
Her head maid handed me a document.
"Barbarian subjugation. Let's go."
"Aha."
Asella was always so abrupt.
Barbarians, huh.
No. 032: Corrupted Barbarians 17%
No. 035: Barbarian Invasion 8%
Lots to discuss with them. I boarded the carriage without hesitation.
"Sounds fun. Let's head out."
"Huh? Thought you'd be scared."
She tilted her head, surprised at my compliance.
"Did you think I'd be that shocked? Expect more dramatic flair next time."
"Tch."
Asella snorted and turned to the window. With the knights' booming voices, the carriage set off westward.