Chapter 12
Rainer, left alone in the alley where Kashmir had disappeared, slowly scanned the surroundings, still marked by traces of her presence. He gently traced the wound where her finger had touched. The throbbing pain was nothing compared to the relentless pounding of his heart.
You...
Still strong, still upright, still not yielding your side. His neat teeth savagely chewed his lip. A bright red trickle of blood seeped from where his sharp canine pierced the flesh. The emotions he'd suppressed so tightly now surged like a fragile boat caught in a gale.
His churning stomach and wildly erratic heartbeat felt utterly frivolous.
If I'd told you back then that I was that boy, would things have been different?
He clutched the handkerchief she'd given him, barely holding the edge for fear of crumpling it. His heart wouldn't stop racing.
Ever since I met you, the sleepless dawns have multiplied.
He remembered that time. The moment you, smaller than him, wielded a sharp sword to guard his front. That day when he could only watch you fight. The instant when that tiny back seemed larger than the world itself.
Now a young man, the boy was still suffering from his first love.
I wanted to become stronger than you.
Overwhelmed by self-loathing he couldn't contain, he ground his teeth. His other hand, not holding the handkerchief, clenched into a fist. Fresh nail marks etched into his palm.
After returning to the capital that day, Rainer had cast everything aside to devote himself to sword training. He swung his blade like a madman, again and again. To surpass that back he'd seen. To fight side by side with her. So he'd never again be helplessly protected from behind by the one he loved.
But you...
Blood trickled from between his knuckles, crushed as if to shatter bone.
You had grown at a speed he could never catch, now called a calamity. To Rainer Ainheart, Kashmir was the benchmark to overcome, his longing, an idol too distant even for admiration.
No matter how fiercely he pursued her like a rabid hound, she was always ahead.
Why are you so mercilessly kind?
A plain white handkerchief without even a small embroidery. Rainer stared at it for a long time, the spot her hand had touched. With the Ainheart wealth, he could buy tens of thousands more, but because she'd given it, it was unbearably precious.
He squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them, slowly sweeping the alley before his gaze settled on Llewellyn.
The one she saved.
His golden eyes sank deep, like plunging into the abyss. Your merciless kindness didn't turn only to him. Rainer was just one of the lucky many who'd received her pity—not her one and only.
It must be that way.
His golden eyes clenched shut. Rainer tried to forget everything about her that made him hope.
The murderous intent that erupted with savage ferocity yet never truly choked his breath. The sword that drew blood at his throat but never plunged deep. The face that wavered as if recalling something, then forcibly regained composure. The softness that, despite suspicious glances, ultimately chose to believe. The tenderness that handed over the handkerchief with an indifferent grumble.
"I hope you become a better person than me."
"You could become a better person than me."
The voice, modulated like she knew something, reciting words eerily similar to that day.
What was etched into the soul could not be forgotten. Something like a dank craving twisted his insides. He wanted to run to her, seize her. To confess, as she suspected, that he was that boy back then. That after being helplessly protected by her, he'd striven to stand in the same place as her. That he'd long admired her, yearning for the you who approached like a midsummer night's dream.
...Not yet.
Rainer exhaled deeply, swallowing the flood of emotions. Crushing the snowball of desire that had grown over years—now too massive to deny—was a habit for him.
After parting from Kashmir that day, it wasn't that he couldn't find her.
"I have a little sister. I've lived my life wishing for her happiness. We live near the capital... You, so kind, told too much to a sick, weak commoner boy who was curious about you. With that information, nothing could escape my search."
Yet he hadn't searched. Every night, suppressing his longing until dawn, because he'd promised himself: he wouldn't reunite with her until he was strong enough for her to entrust her back to him.
"I'll be strong when we meet again."
He'd worked to stand in the same place as her. Countless were the nights he'd swung his sword in impatience upon hearing of her rise to Sword Master and her fame as the black calamity. He'd endured those endless days, weathering dawns that refused to break.
And now, crumbling after just one glimpse of your face—what am I supposed to do?
The longing, neither filled nor swallowed, was heartbreaking. With his dripping bloody hand, he roughly wiped his parched face. Red streaks smeared his pale skin, but he paid no mind.
I may never be stronger than you, but I can reach a similar realm.
He could feel the pinnacle of Sword Master within reach. When that time came, he'd find her and confess he was that boy.
I have to endure until then.
Unstable golden aura flickered around him, not yet perfected. Even this aura's hue stemmed from her. Everything about Rainer was already dyed in Kashmir.
Gritting his teeth once more, Rainer took a slow deep breath and lifted the unconscious Llewellyn. The righteous man would have helped her anyway, but since Kashmir had asked, he wanted to handle it thoroughly.
Trash... marked with traces beyond her worth.
Rainer coldly gazed down at the woman still bearing remnants of black aura, then bound her once more with his own. Glistening golden aura coiled around her like a serpent.
Because it's your request.
He couldn't defy Kashmir's words to leave the rest to him.
I dare not dream of all of you, so on the day we meet again, may I claim even a fragment of your heart.
That was all Rainer Ainheart desired.
A week had passed since I'd saved Llewellyn and faced Rainer.
Though I'd tangled deeply with two major original characters, my daily life remained unchanged.
For four days, I investigated the Freya Count family.
The house where Aria would go. Worried there might be corruption or dark secrets not in the novel, I'd even visited an information guild to dig up everything on them.
Fortunately, it matched the novel perfectly. The Freya Counts, amassing immense wealth, ran numerous businesses yet had astonishingly clean records. With both the count and his wife known as good people, I could rest easy entrusting Aria to them.
Once Aria settles stably into the count family, I'll be left alone.
A tangle of joy, sorrow, worry, loneliness, and despair—emotions so muddled they lost all color—clawed at my insides.
You selfish bastard. You should be happy.
I felt a measure of self-loathing for my inability to simply rejoice.
Aria would be happy there. Under good parents, meeting fine people, vanishing to heights I couldn't even gaze upon. In that perfect tale, there was no place for me.
I resolved myself. For Aria's happiness, I'd do anything. No greed, just remain as a shadow in the margins.
I steadied my shaking heart once more. I had no intention of lingering by Lady Aria of the count family. As the mercenary Mir, with many enemies, I'd only be a hindrance to her.
As long as I can watch from afar, and occasionally help if she's in danger...
That would be enough. I dared not wish for more.
It won't be long now.
Thankfully, the novel detailed the exact day Aria would go to the count family.
The day after the Snowflower Festival begins, on a snowy day.
The Snowflower Festival was the empire's grand celebration of winter. The palace hosted balls to toast the year's end, while commoner streets filled with dazzling stalls.
While out viewing the Snowflower Festival, Aria collapses in a remote alley, discovered by chance by Count Freya returning home.
This was the novel's starting point. The event that would change Aria's life was now less than a week away.
It has to follow the original, but Aria can't be in danger.
The plot had already twisted because of me. Unlike the original, Aria had a national guardian. I couldn't predict how it would unfold.
So I'll force it along the original path.
I'd already background-checked Count Freya's every move. On the decisive day, I'd "accidentally" bump into the count on his way to work and attach a tiny location tracker powered by mana. It was expensive, but for Aria, nothing was too much.
I have to make sure Count Freya meets Aria.
With Aria regularly taking fairy forest essence, her condition likely differed greatly from the original. I couldn't even be sure she'd collapse that day.
...I'll knock her out by striking her nape if I have to.
My heart grew uneasy at the thought of harming Aria, but for the original plot, it was unavoidable. I hardened my resolve.
Then place the unconscious Aria on Count Freya's route.
The plan was perfect. Sorting my thoughts, I pulled my black cloak's hood tight and leaped from the rooftop.
Mercenary Guild.
I headed toward the wooden building before me.
Come to think of it, there were times we three entered together.
I hadn't always worked alone from the start. Subjugating magic beasts was perilous. I'd had companions at times.
With those two.
Ancient history now.
I bit my lip. They weren't good memories. Just recalling them brought gloom, so I shook my head to scatter the thoughts.
Vacation was over. Time to work as Mir.