You Should Have Died
I pulled the blanket up awkwardly and propped myself up on my elbows. Then I realized just how pathetic I looked fumbling with the covers like that, so I sheepishly let them drop back down and asked her, "When did you get here?"
"Not long ago."
Iris rested her chin on her hand, staring straight at me. It was like she was observing a lab hamster—or maybe like a mother eyeing her wayward son who'd finally come home.
"I went straight to Professor Wilhelm as soon as I arrived, got the full rundown on everything that happened, and came right here."
"Ah... I see."
But that gaze of hers was heavy. Like a worried mom wondering, 'Is my kid even eating properly?'
I averted my eyes, feeling awkward, and she murmured softly, "You really pushed yourself, didn't you?"
"Pardon?"
"They say you flipped an entire village road upside down. How the hell do you even muster the guts for that? You could've died."
"Ah, yeah."
Could've died. It was just a bit tiring, though. I scratched the back of my head and mumbled vaguely, "Well, it just kinda happened that way."
Her eyes narrowed. She locked eyes with me and hit the nail on the head. "You had no idea how dangerous it was, did you?"
"......"
Busted.
Truth be told, since it was just a skill click, I figured there wasn't any real risk. Farming had always gone off without a hitch.
"You're a mind reader. How'd you know? Been there yourself?"
"As if. You're just naturally gifted with magic—raw talent and intuition like no one else—but your actual experience and knowledge? On par with any average Joe."
Iris stated it with absolute certainty.
"You wouldn't know the dangers of mana backlash or the strain a massive spell puts on the body. Not from personal experience, and not even from theory. You've probably never cracked open a textbook."
It had a scolding edge to it. But it was all facts, so I couldn't argue.
"That's why you charged in without a second thought."
"Yeah. Guess my habits aren't that hard to predict after all."
I conceded, and she shook her head. "No. No one else would think that."
"Huh?"
"When a normal genius pulls off something like that, people think, 'They must've trained like hell behind the scenes.' Not, 'They had no clue what they were doing and just bulldozed through on talent alone.'"
"......"
Was that a compliment or an insult?
But her expression was dead serious. She grabbed my hand. "That's why you have to share it with me."
"......Pardon?"
"No matter what crazy stunt you pull, I can understand you. I can trust you. Even if you pull off more nonsense like this, you always tell me first. Got it?"
She wasn't telling me not to do it. Just to report back after.
Probably because she's the type who has to dive in first to feel satisfied—must hit close to home. Anyway, getting scolded felt weirdly good. Is this the appeal of older women? Now I'm wondering what her toes taste like. Keep this up, and I'll awaken some filthy pastry fetish.
I nodded obediently. "Yeah. Got it."
"Good."
Iris smiled, satisfied. But she didn't let go of my hand. Her face grew even more serious. "Then you should tell me about the other thing you did."
"......You're coming off super guardian-like today."
"That's because I am your guardian. Cleaning up after a disciple's mess is a mentor's duty."
So firm. Well, she'd probably heard everything from old man Wilhelm anyway.
"Sure. Well... I went near the dungeon and broke a phase-shift barrier to escape?"
"I need more details on that part."
"Huh?"
More details? I blinked, and she sighed. "Honestly, it's a relief my theories were all wrong... My common sense got shattered twice today."
"Twice?"
What a coincidence. I'd pulled off exactly two major incidents since arriving here.
Iris held up a hand and extended one finger. "First: Judging by the scale of that earth magic in the slums, you should've been out cold from mana overload by now. Bedridden for at least six months to a year."
"Mm."
Thinking back, my head was spinning after that. Without Lily's potion, I might've actually kicked the bucket.
"And second." She extended a second finger, peering deep into my eyes. "That phase-shift barrier should've wrecked you too, right?"
"No."
Iris shook her head, feigning nonchalance. But her voice trembled faintly. "It was worse than that."
I felt her grip tighten on my hand.
"You should have died."
"......Pardon?"
"Without a doubt."
It was the last thing I expected. The roadwork had my gut churning—Am I fucked?—but that dawn escapade? My body felt fine, no real strain.
But that was supposedly a bigger fuckup than the road?
I was out of it. But I could still eat. Human survival instinct? Or am I just a pig?
Sophisticated philosophers ponder butterflies versus humans. Me, fresh from Hell Joseon? Pig versus human it is. Guess you can't shake your roots.
If it'd been that rock-hard pouch rice, I'd have gone AWOL for real. Luckily, they served proper stew instead. The hot broth sliding down felt like life itself.
Clink.
I shoveled it in mindlessly, and Lily, who'd been staring from across the table, spoke up hesitantly. "Is something wrong?"
"......"
I set down my spoon and looked up. Her pastel green eyes shimmered with worry.
"Do I look like something's wrong?"
"Well... it's ambiguous."
Oho. Interesting take. Most people'd say 'You look bad' or 'You look fine.'
"Ambiguous how?"
"You look spaced out... but not your usual chill, peaceful vibe. Not worried or gloomy either."
Lily propped her chin, dissecting my face. "So I can't tell. Like you're empty inside or something."
Empty inside. Spot on. Maybe the most accurate read on my headspace right now.
"Yeah?"
"Yes. You seemed uneasy even before bed last night. Then today, your mind's blank and you're zoning out... That gap makes me think something happened."
"......"
Fair. She didn't know I'd doodled at the dungeon entrance pre-dawn. What a lunatic I am.
Just dodged a 26-to-52-week hospital stay, then a death sentence—yet here I am, unscathed. And instead of moping, the food tastes great.
"Tell me what happened."
Lily fixed me with a resolute stare, like Whatever it is, I'll take it and believe you.
But no way was I spilling.
Yeah, right.
I'm not that oblivious. I knew she had a bit of obsessive interest in me. Why let it slide? Her vibe felt less romantic, more twisted family love or protective instinct.
But sharing 'I almost died'? That'd just tire me out more. So, no dice.
She's sharp, though. Try bullshitting, and she'll sniff it out. Hide the truth in plain sight, then.
I shrugged casually. "Just reflecting on how chaotic the last few days have been."
"......"
"Paving roads, chugging stupidly expensive meds, camping in the woods. Pretty wild for a noble young master, huh?"
All true. I wasn't scared of 'I almost died?'—just dwelling on it.
Lily stared into my eyes, then nodded, convinced. "True... You prefer a quiet life, Kasian."
"Yep. Peace lover here."
"Glad to hear it. I thought you were sick or something."
She sighed in relief and picked up her spoon. I swallowed a bitter smile inwardly.
Why the hell am I not freaked out?
When Iris said I should've died, doubt hit first: No way. Logically, it didn't add up. I had this unshakable certainty I wouldn't die.
But with no basis? My own gut felt ridiculous. Expert says 'You nearly died,' and I'm like, 'Nah, I know my body best'—pure stubborn bullshit.
Fuck it, who knows.
Headache. I'll just live as a fat happy piglet.
Decision made, I scraped up the last of the stew. Ghosts who die stuffed have pretty faces, they say. Might as well croak as a bloated pig ghost.
Then.
Thud, thud.
Footsteps that assertive on dirt? Didn't need to look. That level of arrogance is royal prerequisite.
I turned. Evelyn approached.
What's up? Why that uneasy look? Not contemptuous, not yesterday's worry. Just... resolute as fuck. Here to discuss state affairs over my meal?
She stopped right in front of me. "Kasian."
"Yes, Your Highness."
I set down my spoon and stood awkwardly. They say don't disturb a dog while it eats—but princesses do what they want.
Evelyn glanced at Lily, then fixed on me. "Spare me a moment."
Rustle, rustle.
The forest air hung heavy. Not humidity or low pressure—unpleasant mana residue crawling over her skin like sticky insects.
Iris furrowed her brow, eyeing the agent's back ahead. "Sorry if this sounds distrustful."
"Yes, Professor?"
"Is this the right place?"
The agent halted and turned. His masked eyes narrowed curiously. "Yes. Night and day differ, but coordinates are exact. If you explain why you're asking, I can be more precise."
"No need. The dungeon's aura is just too blatant."
The leaking energy wasn't just intense—it was overwhelmingly foul. And that was the issue.
Higher-grade dungeons, for reasons unknown, masked their mana traces. They didn't broadcast 'Here I am!' like this.
Which made this one report-worthy for the academy. No existing classification fit a dungeon spewing such thick, raw power so openly.
It didn't even ping on mid-tier detectors.
So why now? Only one suspect.
He pulled something off again, huh.
Kasian del Parne. Iris pictured her disciple's face.