Chapter 57
Chapter 57
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 57
Chapter Title: Divine Fever
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The doctor who had examined Juliet's ankle said it was simply a sprain and would heal with proper rest.
But for some reason, even the next day, Juliet's fever showed no signs of breaking. Thanks to that, Isaac and Helene's expressions turned grave.
"First, it would be best to watch her for another day or so."
The flustered doctor said as much.
Juliet tried her best to reassure Helene.
"It's fine, Aunt. I get like this once or twice a year. I'll be better by tomorrow."
Juliet knew her own body well. She often suffered from high fevers like this for no reason at all.
It wasn't something she said just for the people around her, yet somehow, the way everyone looked at Juliet was far from normal.
They all took turns visiting her carriage to tend to her. The last visitor of the day was Eselrid.
Eselrid stared at Juliet for a long moment before deliberately lowering his voice to ask.
"Is it because of those butterflies, by any chance?"
"No."
Juliet smiled weakly.
It was the first time Eselrid had mentioned her abilities since witnessing her subdue the snake monster in the dungeon.
"I've been like this long before getting involved with the butterflies."
"It really looks like divine fever."
Esel, his eyes narrowed, said quietly.
"Divine fever?"
"You've never heard of it?"
Eselrid smiled with a somewhat teasing air.
"Hmm, that's odd. I figured since you handle unheard-of spirits so freely and even have ties to lycanthropes, you must know everything there is to know, Juliet."
"Is it fun to poke fun at a sick person?"
When Juliet grumbled, Esel shrugged his shoulders.
"There are symptoms that cause quite a stir in the temples. You know temple priests possess divine power, right? Well, some call it the power of prophecy."
Eselrid explained briefly.
They said it was proof of divine power.
'So, it's like some kind of divine affliction shamans go through?'
Juliet quietly shut her mouth.
Divine power and mana. The two forces were opposing attributes that clashed with each other.
That was why priests and wizards, temples and mage towers, always regarded each other warily.
"But you're not a priest, Juliet. The power a spirit summoner uses to call forth spirits or monsters has to be mana, right? So if your illness isn't divine fever... then what is it?"
"...Yeah, right?"
Juliet chimed in awkwardly. At the same time, she recalled that he was a mage affiliated with the mage tower.
If he learned her true identity, he might find it fascinating and whisk her away for dissection without anyone the wiser.
"It's really not because of that monster?"
Esel asked once more, his expression dubious, as if it still nagged at him.
"Yes, it's not. I can swear to that."
Juliet let out a small yawn and tugged another pillow over from the side. She was particular about her bedding.
"How can you be so sure?"
"Because..."
She patted the pillow a few times to adjust its height, then Juliet replied.
"I've been like this since I was very little.
So, long before I could summon those butterflies."
Juliet mumbled with a small yawn.
"It's like measles or chickenpox or something. A kids' illness."
"But those are contagious."
"Anyway."
Whether it was a side effect of the fever reducer she'd taken earlier, overwhelming drowsiness came crashing over Juliet, and she began finding Esel more and more annoying.
She waved her hand at him as if shooing him out, but just as he rose to leave, Esel called to her again.
"Juliet."
"Yesss."
"Don't take this the wrong way. I'm only saying it because I'm worried."
Then don't say it.
Juliet grumbled to herself, half-asleep.
"Among those who command monsters, the ones who use mental manipulation—that is, illusion magic—are extremely rare."
"Yes, I know......"
Juliet mumbled in reply, but her eyes were already closed.
"Juliet?"
No answer came.
Eselrid quietly shut the door behind him as he left.
'A spirit summoner?'
Every trace of a smile vanished from Eselrid's face.
In truth, Eselrid had suspected Juliet's true nature from the very moment they first met.
A chill ran down Eselrid's spine.
Sweat beaded on his palms of its own accord.
'Damn. I've never even heard of anything like that..'
Juliet Monad.
That woman had surely never laid eyes on another spirit summoner, not even once.
Otherwise, she couldn't possibly be so nonchalant.
'Illusion butterflies?'
Utter nonsense.
Spirit summoners capable of illusion-type abilities were exceedingly rare, and yet Juliet had freely multiplied her summons at will.
The instant he saw yet another butterfly rise from her fingertips—her tenth or eleventh—Eselrid had to bite his tongue to school his expression.
'It's a cheat!'
He barely held back the urge to shout it aloud.
Eselrid himself wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes.
Spirit arts fundamentally involved forming contracts with beings from other dimensions and borrowing their power.
Compared to wizards, who had to rely solely on their own mana, spirit summoners expended only as much mana as needed to call forth their contracted partners.
They consumed less mana because they borrowed the summoned spirit's power.
It sounded reasonable enough on the surface, but it was nowhere near as simple as all that.
Only a select few with unique mana wavelengths could open 'gates' to other dimensions.
That was why most so-called spirit summoners these days—little more than con artists—resorted to cheats.
They forcibly embedded fragments of holy relics infused with divine power into their bodies, artificially warping their mana wavelengths.
'Most die in the process, though...'
Even if they somehow tuned their wavelengths and got lucky enough to open a gate, that was hardly the end of it.
What manner of being their trans-dimensional contract partner turned out to be was anyone's guess.
They were conveniently lumped under the term 'spirits,' but at their core, they were monsters summoned from beyond the veil.
The variety ranged from relatively tame little lizards that spat fire to sea behemoths capable of sinking a fleet in moments, each with their own uses.
But a spirit body that infiltrated the human mind to conjure hallucinations and devour fear? Nothing like that had ever been heard of.
Magic encompassed many fields, but mental manipulation was the sort even archmages shunned.
Every single one—a hundred out of a hundred—ended up driven mad to their deaths.
And yet this mere girl in her early twenties could freely summon otherworldly beings and even hold conversations with them?
A chill prickled his spine.
That was less a spirit and more...
Just like the temples claimed, shouldn't something like that be called a demon instead?
**
It was hazy—whether a dream or simply dredging up memories.
Voices mumbled and faded, and Juliet found herself fully immersed in the recollection of the past.
It was the memory of last summer.
As she had told Eselrid, Juliet had a longstanding habit. Her body wasn't frail, yet strangely enough, she fell ill precisely once a year without fail. It was usually just a light cold, cleared up in a day or two with her bouncing right back out of bed. But last summer had been different.
"I'm heading back."
That year's summer getaway ended before it could even properly begin. An unexpected intruder had soured his mood. Lennox returned to the ducal residence but left her behind to head straight for the hunting grounds.
While the servants bustled about packing their things, Juliet sat alone in the ducal residence's drawing room, utterly forlorn—like a pile of luggage no one cared to claim.
Left all by herself in the vast ducal residence, Juliet sat quietly, doing nothing at all.
"Is that my lover?"
She hadn't done anything wrong, and yet somehow Juliet felt as though she were the one being punished.
'Why does it have to be this way?'
Watching the tea slowly cool, Juliet drifted into a daze.
'I knew it from the start.'
She had known long before this relationship even began—the cruel truth that this story's ending would never change.
What on earth did you expect?
It felt like someone was sneering at her. Juliet clutched convulsively at her skirt.
Better this way.
'I've done all I could.'
Time to go.
Juliet shot impulsively to her feet.
She dashed straight to her room and dragged a small travel bag from beneath the bed—the one she always kept ready there.
Then she threw open the dresser, gathered her scant belongings, snapped the bag shut, changed her clothes, and bolted down the ducal residence's stairs.
Dozens, hundreds of times. Exactly as she had imagined it for years on end.
"Lady!"
If not for the sudden onset of fever, she would have.
That was all Juliet remembered. Everything after went black.
The next thing she knew—thinking her vision had gone completely dark—she was lying in a lavish bedroom.
The familiar vine motifs on the ceiling and the softly dimmed lighting greeted her.
"Have you woken?"
A familiar voice, too.
Juliet turned her head to gaze beside her.
A man in simple attire sat casually on the bedroom floor.