Chapter 190
Chapter 190
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 190
Chapter Title: The Little Reaper
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Perry stood night watch. Though ghosts terrified her, after hearing Rima's story from the day before, she couldn't just sit idly by.
'There hasn't been a single ghost sighting all this time, but one suddenly appears the night before last... It has to be connected to the young master.'
'……?'
'Maybe it's the young master's soul that slipped out of his body.'
That would explain why he wasn't waking up despite being perfectly fine. With such a grave expression, it all sounded so convincing. Truth be told, Perry was the type to believe wholeheartedly in things like superstitions and spirits.
Convinced that it wouldn't be so frightening if it really was the young master's ghost, Perry willingly sacrificed her night for the prince's sake.
'If the young master wakes up, His Highness will be overjoyed.'
The servants who had encountered the ghost said it seemed to be searching for something. If Rima's hunch was correct and it was indeed a fragment of the young master's soul, then it must have been looking for its physical body.
Determined to restore the prince's smile, Perry paced the corridors nonstop. Especially those on the third floor.
'First night on the first floor, second night on the second...'
It was simple logic, but thankfully her guess hit the mark. That's how Perry came face-to-face with the ghost. And the instant she laid eyes on it, she knew—this couldn't possibly be some ordinary specter.
'…….'
'…….'
Cold sweat trickled down her back. The thing that had slithered into the corridor without warning wasn't the young master. It absolutely could not be. It was pitch black from head to toe, its jet-black hair in stark contrast to the young master's snowy white locks—and unnaturally long, trailing everywhere.
And the suffocating aura of intimidation.
Unlike the young master's presence, which accepted everything at face value, this entity radiated a sheer, unyielding refusal to acknowledge anything at all.
"...And that's when I spotted it. The thing cradled in its arms!"
"Wh-what was it?!"
Lost in the tale, Lianus clutched Poofu tight. Perry milked the suspense like it was the find of the century before whispering softly.
"It was a box."
"……?"
"A coffin-shaped box!"
"……!"
A coffin! Surely it wasn't planning to stuff his dear friend inside one...
"H-ha, but don't grim reapers usually carry scythes...?"
"Your Highness, that's just a stereotype."
"...Really?"
Lianus sensed something off but still gave Perry his full attention. Thrilled at being taken so seriously, Perry eagerly unpacked every scrap of intel she'd gathered.
"And... most crucially, its appearance!"
"...You said it looked like a little kid, right?"
Aren't grim reapers supposed to be towering skeletons in hooded black robes, swinging massive scythes? Sure, stereotypes, but a child reaper? Unheard of.
Was he thinking reapers started out as infants? Before his imagination could run further, Perry replied.
"Yes. The books describe them differently, nothing definitive. But one text said messengers of the underworld approach the dead in forms that easily win their favor."
At that, Sir Evan's perpetually narrowed eyes flicked up an eyebrow. The afterlife sounded suspiciously employee-friendly.
Regardless of Evan's skepticism, Perry pressed on.
"That way the soul follows without resistance. And the young master..."
"Loves babies!"
Oh no! Grasping the dire implications, Lianus bolted around the bedroom in a frenzy.
"Nihil would follow it happily!"
Because he adored babies!
'What do I do, what do I do, what do I do?!'
Lianus paced frantically before screeching to a halt.
"What do you mean what to do!"
"...Pardon?"
Sir Evan stared down at the suddenly yowling kitten with utter bewilderment. The head maid's intel seemed cobbled from rumors, yet their little kitten bought it hook, line, and sinker.
"Chase it off!"
"...The wildcat?"
"No! The reaper!"
I won't let anyone steal my friend!
"Huu..."
Back at the mansion, the man let out a deep sigh and finally released the power he'd been suppressing.
His field of vision—which had been so low it felt like he might crawl along the floor—shot up in an instant, leaving him dizzy for a moment.
He'd snuck into the prince's palace to check on the music box's owner, but even after three visits, he hadn't pinpointed the room.
He'd moved with caution, suspecting it might be his father, but certainty eluded him. No guarantee the creator and possessor were one and the same.
Besides, his memories of his father were faint at best, with scarcely any lingering affection or nostalgia. Five hundred years was an eternity for his once-human self, and even his memory had limits.
Lately, he only recalled his father out of obligation now and then. As for truly wanting to meet... honestly, who could say.
"......"
The man glanced at the music box before heading to the bookshelf. He pulled an ancient tome from its depths.
Dust blanketed it, but layered preservation spells kept it pristine.
It was none other than his diary.
From long ago, when fear of forgetting his father had driven him to record every detail obsessively.
"......"
He brushed off the dust with care.
Yes, this wasn't mere longing. It was simple curiosity.
A petty break from monotonous days, a flicker of interest amid numb emotions, resentment and rage toward the one who'd saddled him with this tedious existence.
To confirm, he tried opening the diary. Or rather, he attempted to—but it wouldn't budge.
"Ah..."
After several failures, he remembered: he'd enchanted it to open only under the Rotten Moon.
For a split second, he considered forcing the magic, but he still recalled that it would be the absolute worst thing he could do.
"Infuriating."
He hurled the diary onto the bed.
In the end, all he had were his feeble memories. Should've checked the diary religiously every Rotten Moon.
He'd quit about three hundred years ago—sick of the repetition, plus other busyness.
Abandoning thought, he opened the music box case.
Sleep well, little one. My precious baby.
Fear not the darkness beneath your lids.
When your eyes open, I'll always be there before you,
Fear not the fleeting moment.
A voice he could no longer recall echoed in his mind.
"Sir Evan! It's definitely heading to the fourth floor tonight!"
One floor higher each night—it had to be. If they'd caught on even a day later, disaster.
Lianus desperately wished Nihil would wake soon, but disappointingly, his friend remained asleep until nightfall.
"...Wouldn't the wildcat's soul fragment theory make more sense...?"
"Then we catch it and bring it to Nihil."
And if you can catch it...?
Sir Evan eyed the strangely assured kitten with fresh doubt.
"...If it's truly a reaper, can we even handle it?"
"We have to somehow!"
Just in case, he'd left Nihil with Rima. One signal, and she'd scoop him up and bolt.
Every room on the fourth floor was locked except Sir Evan's. Might buy a precious few moments.
Girding himself, Lianus toyed with the cloth pouch he'd brought. Rustle, rustle.
"...Think that'll actually work?"
Sir Evan eyed the salt-filled pouch skeptically. And it wasn't the only item.
Constellation talismans, neatly dried four-leaf clovers, rabbit's foot charms, lucky coins—the lot.
All courtesy of the head maid, every one of dubious origin.
Scratch that. One had a clear provenance: the lucky coin the wildcat had hidden during his treasure hunt. That much was solid.
'...At least if the ghost snags the coin, the wildcat can track it.'
Assuming the wildcat woke up, of course.
"...Never realized the head maid was so... eclectic."
She'd even fretted when a talisman made from the wildcat's hair vanished one day.
He vaguely recalled the wildcat instructing to discard it after a set time...
Suddenly, the kitten yanked his cloak and pointed into the shadows.
"Sir Evan, something's rippling over there!"
Sir Evan tensed to the max, scanning the darkness.
Soon, the air tore open, and
with a soft step,
a tiny figure emerged.
"......"
Sir Evan's eyebrow twitched despite himself. It looked no older than two or three. Dragging a mop of hair across the floor—vaguely reminiscent of someone.
Is this really it...?
A reaper? Definitely not human, but...
Sir Evan regarded the child with a conflicted look. It exuded grandeur, yet the form created jarring dissonance.
No way it's the Grand Duke.
No signature magic presence. Why would the Grand Duke show up as a toddler anyway?
True to the head maid's tale, it clutched a rectangular wooden box like a miniature coffin—smaller than imagined. Looked familiar in the dim light...
Ah, it turned around.
Sir Evan froze, but the child whipped its head away and seized the nearest door handle. Standing on tiptoes, quite the sight.
Click, click-click-click.
The locked door rattled noisily. The child stared a moment, then hugged the box with one arm and drew a thin rod from its bosom.
After jabbing it into the keyhole a few times—click—the door swung open.
Oh, heavens.
Sir Evan was genuinely awed. The sheer gall rivaled the wildcat's. Worth two solid slaps, easy.
No reaper learned lockpicking. Underworld messengers didn't need locksmithing. But the prince disagreed—the salt pouch trembled violently.
"Wh-what now? N-never thought it'd pick it that easily...!"
"......"
Same here. Never figured a reaper for such strict adherence to physics. Twists galore.
By then, more doors had yielded, and the reaper reached Sir Evan's. Right above lay the prince's bedroom where the wildcat slept—unnecessary tension gripped him.
The reaper prodded the unlocked handle with its tool, sensed the difference, and simply twisted it open.
Click—unlocked, it turned smoothly.
Yet it peeked inside, glanced directly their way once, then shut the door. Owner busted on sight.
How'd it know? But inwardly relieved—no room-trashing.
'...Does my room smell like dog...?'
...Anxiety spiked anew. Blame the wildcat. Always barking about dogs...
As he sniffed curiously, the prince quivered, clutching his cloak and whispering frantically.
"Sir Evan, what do we do? Only half the rooms left!"
"...Indeed."
No real threat, but Sir Evan nodded along. Fourth-floor rooms were spacious and few—progress was swift. Fifth floor next at this rate.
'Maybe better to just show it the wildcat already...'
Watching and whispering openly—didn't faze the little reaper?
But that thought didn't last. Soon, the reaper took notice of the prince.
"Uwaaaang, nooo."