Return (1)
It had been a week since I struck down the traitors lurking in the rear garden.
A week is one of those stretches of time that can feel endless to one person and fleeting to another. To me, it had passed quickly.
During that time, Fairy and Eli had spent nearly every day together, growing so close they were practically sisters. Eli — who had carried the mature mind and bearing of an adult even at fifteen — was more than enough to soothe Fairy, who still trembled at the edges with fear and anxiety. By the sixth day, Eli was no longer a frightening presence to Fairy but a proud older sister she could always lean on. And Eli, for her part, judged Fairy kindly: fragile as she was now, she was a girl with boundless room to grow. With that, the warm air between them returned.
"Eli. Should we keep going like this?"
"Yeah, let's. At this rate, we can turn the tide for Crystal Territory before their situation gets any worse."
What we held between us was a single sheet of paper — a list of support supplies to send to Crystal Territory once I returned to Cumul. Most of it detailed workers dispatched to help build the defensive walls, along with shipments of construction materials. We planned to put everything into motion the moment I arrived back.
While Eli and I were busy making preparations, my disciple Citrine performed her Attestation as the Successor of the White Tiger.
"My Trait is — Master of the Snowy Peaks."
And, as it should have been, no divine retribution fell even after she spoke the word snowy peaks. Having safely completed her Attestation, Citrine smiled toward me, and everyone acknowledged her as the true Successor. When I returned her smile with a warm one of my own, her cheeks flushed faintly red — but I let it pass with a light heart and applauded her proudly, celebrating the rise of a new Successor.
Being acknowledged and securing her footing were different things; the point was to make sure no one could ever place limits on her actions. If she had carried only her game-version background, there were plenty who doubted her strength, and they would have thrown up obstacles in her path at least once. In war and battle, where every second counts, that meant aid arriving only after the golden moment had passed — and by then, it would have been far too late. It was this accumulation of misfortunes, compounded again and again, that produced the Citrine of the game: her words sharpening into venom, her body scarred, her heart wounded past mending.
Why would mere vassals try to bind the Successor of the White Tiger with nothing but their status as retainers? Simple — because if the Successor were gone, they might be the ones left exposed to danger.
Of course, none of that grim future could happen now. Everyone knew she possessed overwhelming strength, so in every battle to come she would be named the final pillar. And as she trained, her power would only grow.
There was nothing to worry about.
Since Citrine had killed the traitor and firmly established her position as the Successor of the White Tiger, every vassal of Crystal Territory now acknowledged her as the genuine heir — exactly as I had predicted. If I had handled things in the rear garden without her, her standing would eventually have been earned through her own strength regardless, but in the meantime countless disputes and suspicions would have gnawed at her. That, surely, was why the Citrine of the game bristled so sharply at any stranger who dared approach her.
This time, however, she fought entirely on her own, and in doing so made every vassal, every soldier, every knight — even the maids — accept her power with their own two eyes and every sense they possessed.
Afterward, we began preparing to return to our respective territories. Once today passed, we would board the carriages and head back to Cumul. Khan and Fairy had been away from Plot Territory far too long, and with the matter of aid to consider as well, they sent word that they would head straight home without stopping at the imperial capital.
Citrine simply watched us as we worked. The Citrine I knew would surely have said something — anything — and yet she only helped with our departure in silence. But moods have a way of making themselves felt even unspoken, and hers was gloomy enough that even someone as dense as me could see it. Gloomy, yet clearly trying to hide those feelings anyway — the sight was so piteous that even Eli felt compelled to mention it and tell me to go comfort her.
I nodded at her suggestion and told her I understood. And to that response, Eli said:
"But don't give all your attention to Citrine. I'll get jealous."
"...?"
Jealous? Eli, jealous?
I tried picturing her sulking at me out of jealousy — and the instant the image formed, I shuddered. I didn't have to look far back, either. Just ten days ago she'd been so angry she'd declared a sparring match and pummeled me until I couldn't tell what was what. And this from Eli, who never resorts to such violent methods. Just how strained and stifled must I have made her, to push her that far?
"And one more thing."
"Yes?"
"Citrine is still sixteen. Remember that. And if you're going to bring a new woman into your life, you'll need my permission. Keep it in mind."
Um, hold on. Excuse me? Why exactly are you bringing up Citrine's age right now?
I don't have a single thought like that, I swear.
When I turned my head to glance at Citrine, she was quietly watching Khan and Fairy, seemingly having not heard. I turned back to Eli.
"Um, my dear lover? What is that supposed to mean?"
"What do you mean, what does it mean? Did you plan to just start dating without my permission?"
"...No, that's not—why would I even see another woman?"
"Well, it could happen. To women, our Hyun is a very impressive man."
Her shameless compliment sent heat rushing to my face so fast I could feel the warmth blooming.
"So you never know. If there's ever a girl you like, Hyun, bring her to me. Don't worry about a thing."
I gave her words a light nod and immediately ducked my head to hide my burning face. Perhaps that was why I failed to notice — that Eli's last words weren't meant for me alone.
Anyway, following Eli's advice, I set off looking for Citrine, starting with the places she was most likely to be.
The first was the training grounds. In the game, and now in reality, it was where she always ran when her mind or body felt overwhelmed. I walked toward it slowly, but all that met my eyes was dust kicked up by the wind, drifting across the empty yard. Citrine wasn't there.
The second was her room. If she wasn't training, I figured she'd be resting off her exhaustion — the past week had been just as punishing for her as it had been for me. I knocked on her door, but no sound, no movement answered. In other words, she wasn't in her room either.
A creeping unease settled in as I searched every corner of the estate — and nowhere did I find her. Nowhere except one place.
The spot where she had captured and killed the Doppelganger. The place where she had been reborn as the Successor of the White Tiger.
The rear garden of the estate.
Jewelry loved flowers, and this was where she'd gathered blossoms that bloomed only in cool, shaded places — because flowers that grew in the cold were breathtakingly beautiful, she had collected them all in one garden to tend. As I made my way there, I saw her: no longer a woman of black hair, but of white, moving slowly through the garden, looking over it in silence.
I walked up gently and came to stand beside her. And she began to treat me as if nothing had happened at all. As if I weren't even there.
...Excuse me?
"Citrine."
At my voice, her head finally turned, her eyes lifting up to find me.
"Did I do something wrong?"
To my question, she only shook her head slightly from side to side. Judging by her reaction, it seemed her mood wasn't my fault after all. Even as I asked, Citrine dropped her head low, and water began to fall.
Huh? She's crying?
"Why are you crying...?"
Her answer came out like she'd rather swallow it than speak.
"I... I don't want to. I'm not telling you..."
I took both her hands firmly in mine.
"Really? You truly won't tell me?"
"..."
Just as I was racking my brain — this is tough... — over the girl who kept her heart shut, she spoke, quietly.
"Tomorrow... you're leaving, Master. Back to your territory..."
Ah. So that was it.
But wait — partings are something anyone can manage, aren't they...? It's not as if we were splitting up and never seeing each other's faces again. Yet the doubt wouldn't dissolve; I could see it piling up. So I put my mind to work and thought it through, carefully.
...And then I found the answer.
"Is it because when I leave, you'll be the only one left here?"
"..."
She was far too clever a girl, too quick to understand, and even my roundabout question had been met with silence — which meant the cause I'd guessed was correct.
She sat in the seat of a Successor. By my design, she had become a figure of overwhelming authority, a pillar of the realm. But such power is born from responsibility. When we were around, any mistake she made was covered — Khan or I matched her in raw strength, and on the strategic side, Fairy and Eli had the experience to back her up. Because Topaz and Gerald had been quite close, I'd assumed Citrine and Gerald were too.
Apparently, it had been awkward between them. Gerald tried, in his own headstrong way, to grow close to her, only to fail at every attempt. In the end, Gerald ranks below her. Families that wage war on the frontier or beside other races hold comparatively high standing among the nobility — yet even so, none could surpass the status of the Successor of the White Tiger. She was, in effect, the hero who roamed the nation's borders defeating demons, and of course she was treated with the ceremony that status demanded. That background, it seemed, had become poison for Citrine.
Imagine a high-ranking official you'd known suddenly walking up to a girl your age, bowing and fawning over you with the courtesies owed to a superior. From where she stood, it could only feel like a crushing weight. And as Successor, her elevated rank and authority likely kept her from ever feeling she truly belonged.
The loneliness of carrying burdens and belonging nowhere. And now, with her future looming uncertain, even me — the master she had always trusted and followed — was announcing his departure from the western territory. It must have been quietly crushing for her.
An adult could have shrugged it off — fine, whatever! — but she was still sixteen. Of course she couldn't bear that kind of weight and loneliness.
"I see. So you're afraid of the road ahead, aren't you? Afraid that if things go on like this, no one will remain by your side — that you'll be left with nothing but official relationships?"
"..."
Her silence was a clear answer.
I held her in my arms, wondering how on earth I could comfort her — but no answer came, and in the end, I called for Eli. Our beloved lover gladly answered my SOS, thought it over for a moment, and produced a solution.
"Well, Crystal Territory needs our help for the walls anyway, so I don't see why we couldn't just come over here ourselves."
"?? You can... do that?"
No, seriously — a lord leaving their territory vacant this long...? Just as I was wondering whether that was even allowed, Eli began explaining something peculiar about Cumul Territory.
"Our territory, unlike the others, is built to run without a lord present. Most of our vassals are capable of handling matters on their own. All the business of a full year gets organized, and we explain and pass the policies that need advancing in a single great council. My father was called away to the battlefield so often that he built the whole structure around it."
That did check out. As far as I knew, Sirius had constantly shuttled between battlefields even in the game. In flashback episodes, he was nearly always shown riding at the front lines of the eastern wars. It was one of the facts I knew well. When battle or war broke out in the east, victory or defeat was said to hinge on a single question: whether the master tactician Sirius was there or not. That said everything.
This was the method Sirius had painstakingly devised once the territory's affairs became impossible for one man to shoulder. Even Eli only learned the truth three years into her own reign. Sirius's fame as a master tactician was such that no one under him had the gall to attempt corruption or exploitation — though in Eli's early days on the seat there had been quite a few, and it had taken her considerable time to weed them out and cast them aside. The afterword — that it had been awkward at first but was second nature now — came as a bonus.
"Anyway, given all that, leaving the territory for a short while is entirely doable. About a week? We can't do it too often, of course."
I wholeheartedly agreed. Leave too often, and who knew what lunatics might sink a knife into Eli's back.
At the news that Eli could spare a week, Citrine lifted her gaze and looked up at her — with eyes that silently begged her to do it.
Meeting those eyes, Eli spoke softly.
"Still, I can't just hand it over for free. There's a condition."
"A condition?"
"Yes. Last five minutes against me in a duel, and I'll do my best to spend a week at Crystal Territory. But if you lose—"
"If I lose... you won't come?"
"Nope, I'll still come. But—"
Then she beckoned, gesturing for Citrine to lean in closer — an instruction so odd that Citrine and I both tilted our heads. Tilting her head, Citrine nonetheless did as she was told. And Eli pressed her lips to Citrine's ear and whispered something.
Whatever it was, it must have hit Citrine like a thunderbolt. The moment the whisper began, her face flared scarlet.
Just as I moved toward Eli to check on her—
"Hyiihk!"
Citrine scrambled back, face blazing red, startled at my approach. Watching her, Eli simply stroked her head, and the two of them walked off toward the training grounds together, the very picture of harmony. Citrine followed without a hint of protest.
I merely trailed behind them, walking to the training grounds in their wake.
When we arrived, the two women each picked up their weapons and took their places at opposite ends. Naturally, the role of judge fell to me. Before we began, Eli addressed Citrine.
"I'll attack three times. Once I've used all three chances, I'll only defend. If you hold out for five minutes, you win, as promised. Do you still want to do this?"
"And if I lose...?"
"You'll have to say it."
"Uuu...!!"
Whatever that was supposed to be, why was Citrine's face turning that red...?
Their weapons rose into their hands, every preparation complete, and I called the start of the duel.
"Begin!"
The instant the call left my mouth, Citrine attacked.
— Crack!
But Eli lightly deflected her dagger and slipped aside, baiting the counterattack. Naturally — that had to be the plan. Yet Citrine didn't take the bait, holding her thrust back. So Eli declared, boldly:
"One."
Seeing her raise her blade to strike straight down at Citrine's face, Citrine hastily crossed her daggers to block—
"Two."
— CRACK!
A shattering boom filled the training grounds, a sound absurd for mere wood striking wood. Eli had struck Citrine's crossed daggers from below, knocking both clean out of her hands.
One chance left. Citrine lunged to snatch her fallen daggers—
"Last one."
Eli's blade was already sweeping for the nape of the girl scrambling to retrieve them. Citrine snatched up both daggers and braced herself against the oncoming strike — then, with a forehand grip, slammed her dagger's flat against the blade's face, deflecting its trajectory. She'd done it. She'd survived Eli's final attack.
Eli, for her part, wore a satisfied smile despite her last offensive failing. Citrine, by contrast, was drenched in a cold sweat, gasping for air.
I thanked Eli for indulging the duel so willingly, then turned to Citrine.
"How was it? Pretty rough?"
"Hahh... yes... hahh..."
"Eli just taught you how to stand on your own. Someday, a moment will come when you have to fight alone. When you have to endure alone."
"That's right. If you're ever in danger, I'll come for you. I'll come save you. But what if I can't?"
"..."
"Then you hold on, and you survive. Demons are cruel. They'll press on your weaknesses, your wounds, hammering at exactly those points until you break."
"If I arrive, and you're already dead — or if fear has shattered your mind so completely that you can't think straight—"
"..."
"Then I'll think: I made her depend on me too much."
"No! That wouldn't be your fault, it would be because I was too weak—!"
"No. You're strong. I can say that without a shred of doubt — strong in spirit and in body both. It's precisely because of that that the White Tiger chose you, and that I became your master."
In the game, Citrine was the sort of person who, no matter how broken, beaten down, and humiliated she was, always clawed her way back to her feet and kept moving. Someone who, even in the most dire of circumstances, acted first to push things in a better direction. People like that are rare. In dark moments the air itself grows heavy, and most people are swept along by it.
But Citrine was different. She was the type to say, well, someone has to move forward — might as well be me.
Maybe that habit was born from conclusions she'd reached as a child, the same way today's Citrine had arrived at hers — forged through worry and pain. If she could have done it, I believed the Citrine of today could too. The world of the game had proven it. And reality, which now felt just as real as anything could, would prove it as well.
Her master ought to be the one who believes in her — who else would?
At my words, Citrine looked at me and spoke.
"Thank you... for believing in me. You've never once lied to me, Master. If it's you, I can believe it. So... I'll endure it! I'll hold out until the day you come."
Her proud resolve told both Eli and me, wordlessly, how much she had grown. We reached out and stroked her head.
"But don't push yourself too hard. If you send a letter, we'll answer right away. Write whenever you like."
"Y-yes!"
She answered, then turned her head toward Eli. It looked like she had something she wanted to say to her...
"Something you want to say to Eli? Should I give you two a moment?"
At my question, Citrine shook her head lightly.
"No, it's fine. Um... Lady Eli?"
"Hm?"
"Could I... call you 'big sister' instead of Lady Eli? I'd like to write to you in my letters too..."
Eli answered her question with a bright, sunny smile.
"Of course. What's the harm? If you're Hyun's disciple, then you're my disciple too. Call me whatever you like."
"Yes, ma'am!"
Her spirited answer was more than enough to draw smiles from all of us, and for the rest of the day we talked in the estate's garden, sharing a truly precious time together.
Even though it was to be our final memory in the western territory, Citrine was smiling brightly. She would keep growing, strong and unbreakable — that was my wish for her.
Hoping she would grow up safe and sound, exactly as I hoped, I followed the two of them with my eyes — and then with my feet.