Chapter 12
Chapter 12
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: Pouring Water into the Pit. (3)
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It was surprisingly precise pronunciation. Not slurred from drunkenness, but rather a tone heavy with exhaustion.
The girl brought a handkerchief to her eyes and rubbed at them. It didn’t take long for the pale blue cloth to darken with moisture.
‘One won’t be enough, will it?’
It was astonishing how so much liquid could pour from such a small face. But there was no time to marvel further.
“Mm...”
The girl’s body swayed side to side a little, then finally toppled over sideways.
“Oh, dear.”
I caught her shoulder and let out a troubled sigh.
“Uweeek.”
Yellowish liquid gushed from the girl’s mouth. Right onto my shoe.
“Ah.”
While I froze from the unexpected disaster, the girl now fully leaned against me. And then she began snoring, loud and rhythmic.
A sour stench mixed with the smell of alcohol wafted up from the mess on my shoe.
“Ha.”
My grip tightened involuntarily on her shoulder.
‘Calm down, hold it in.’
I squeezed my eyes shut, suppressing the boiling rage.
Ever since entering Abel’s body, controlling my temper had been especially hard. Even trivial things like this sparked a ferocious impulse to kill.
‘I have to hold back.’
I barely managed to quell the surging murderous intent. When I opened my eyes, I saw people watching me, their faces pale with terror.
“Eek!”
“T-That girl...”
“On the Young Master’s clothes... Oh, my god.”
The onlookers were already in a state of shock. They alternated between staring at my grimacing face and my soiled clothes, at a complete loss.
“Tch.”
I clicked my tongue briefly and schooled my expression. Then, still holding the girl, I stood up from my seat.
She was so light that it wasn’t difficult.
“Gasp.”
“Guh.”
The eyes of the territory folk watching us widened as if about to burst. I approached one of the men and asked,
“Do you know where this girl lives?”
“Y-Y-Young M-Master.”
The startled man began stammering incoherently.
“W-Well, her home is, uh...”
Unable to stand it, someone nearby cut in.
“Young Master, please forgive her.”
“That child’s been under a lot of emotional strain lately.”
“Yes, exactly. Her mother hasn’t been in her right mind these days either.”
Others chimed in, mustering their courage.
‘It’s obvious what they’re all thinking.’
Their minds were surely already picturing me storming to Melina’s house and causing a ruckus. That’s why they were so desperate to dissuade me.
“Just answer the question.”
The first man rolled his eyes, glancing around and at me, then mumbled,
“Y-Yes. It’s on the third street south from the central road, I believe.”
“Third street, where the blacksmiths live?”
“Y-Yes, that’s right.”
Thanks to him, my suspicions were confirmed. The address matched what I knew of Alessia’s home.
‘This girl must be Alessia’s daughter.’
In that case...
“Got it.”
I nodded and turned away. The man made a hesitant noise behind me.
“Y-Young Master. Right now...?”
“Why.”
I twisted my lips into a smirk.
“Now that I know where she lives, I should take her home.”
❖ ❖ ❖
I could have sent servants to take Melina home. But I brushed them off and chose to go to her village myself.
During the carriage ride, Melina didn’t stir once. She slept soundly, like the dead.
“She’s not actually dead, is she?”
I held my hand under her nose. Feeling the faint breath against my skin, I relaxed.
“She really can hold her liquor.”
I pulled away from Melina and leaned back comfortably in my seat. Crossing my arms, I recalled what the territory folk had said earlier.
‘Her mother hasn’t been in her right mind these days either.’
It had been six months since Alessia lost her husband. Judging by Melina’s state, Alessia’s situation probably wasn’t great either.
‘Just as I thought.’
In the original story, she later left Ovest Territory with her daughter for recuperation. That’s how she survived the disaster of Requiem.
And she cooperates with Cain to reclaim her husband’s mausoleum, Magna Morten.
‘That was the sequence. But if things stay like this, it’s a problem.’
She needed to make armor for me right now.
I glared at my shoe, lost in thought.
Amid the clopping hooves, the rattling wheels, and Melina’s steady snoring, I made my decision.
‘No choice, then.’
If the situation allowed, I’d force her to do it.
With a creak, the carriage stopped.
“We’ve arrived.”
The coachman tapped on the partition up front.
I scooped Melina back into my arms. After glancing down at her tear-stained face, I kicked the carriage door open.
“Y-Young Master?”
The coachman, who had come to open the door, looked like he might faint.
“Stay quiet until I return.”
“Y-Yes, sir.”
The southern village in the territory was where artisans lived. Third Street in particular was densely packed with blacksmiths who handled weapons and armor.
I found Alessia’s forge without trouble.
“Alessia, are you really going to keep doing this?”
“What did I do?”
I heard a man and woman arguing around the corner.
‘They must be there.’
Carrying the limp Melina on my back, I headed that way.
“You can’t keep living like this without working! Think of your daughter. Melina’s still growing.”
I saw the pair standing by the furnace. A man with a bushy beard and a woman with a hood pulled over her head.
The woman leaned against the wall and shook her head.
“Enough. I said I’m not taking jobs.”
“Alessia!”
The man thumped his chest in frustration. I turned toward the woman, who pretended not to hear.
‘That’s Alessia.’
As described in the novel, her reddish-brown hair was striking, like smoldering embers. Below the tightly bound ponytail, curly locks cascaded thickly.
Her broad shoulders showed developed trapezius muscles, and her thick forearms were tanned a healthy bronze. Burns dotted her arms.
‘I thought she was in her forties, but she looks older.’
The heat from molten metal ages the skin quickly, evaporating moisture and drying it out. Those who work with fire age faster than their peers.
“Hmm.”
I frowned slightly. Alessia’s face looked far worse than described in the novel.
Sallow complexion, deep dark circles under her eyes, cracked and dry lips.
‘Her condition’s definitely bad.’
I’d expected it, but the confirmation left a bitter taste.
“Don’t yell, my head hurts.”
Alessia growled, wincing. The man let out a frustrated “Ha,” and raised his voice further.
“That’s why I told you to cut back on the drinking. Anyway, you heard about the border wall collapsing, right?”
Ah, that.
I recalled that day’s memory easily.
‘We collapsed the wall first. Plenty of soldiers buried under it. The survivors are doing their best to hold.’
The urgent report from the knight. The event was recorded in the original story too.
Like a butterfly’s wingbeat birthing a storm, that small breach would ultimately bring down the Ovest Knight Order.
“They’ll need a lot of materials to rebuild it. Simple stuff—nails, iron bars. You just supply them.”
The man waved his hands enthusiastically, approaching Alessia. He was full of intent to persuade her.
“Thanks for the offer,”
Alessia replied, touching her forehead wearily, utterly unmoved by his passion.
“But no. I can’t.”
“What?”
“I can’t.”
She cut him off sharply, then added flatly,
“It’s not laziness. The iron... it just won’t obey me anymore. It used to be like an extension of my body, but now...”
The man gaped, speechless.
“When I’m sober and try to work it, I keep hearing my husband’s voice. So I drink to drown it out, and then my body won’t listen.”
Her voice grew wet with emotion.
“What can someone like me do?”
“......”
“I can’t take that job. Find someone else.”
With that, Alessia fully turned away from him. A clear sign she wanted no more talk.
The man stood frozen for a moment, then slowly raised a hand before letting it drop. He turned and trudged away.
I shifted my gaze from his retreating back to the forge.
The furnace, which should have crackled with embers, was cold. The anvil, which should have rung endlessly, was silent as the grave.
As Alessia said, she truly couldn’t work iron anymore. And she seemed to lack both the will and opportunity to escape that.
‘I need a hardline approach.’
I clicked my tongue at Alessia’s slumped back.
‘She doesn’t look much like her daughter, though.’
Glancing down at Melina with that thought, I looked up again to find—
“......”
Alessia staring at me, brow furrowed.
Ah, there was a resemblance.
The suspicion narrowing Alessia’s eyes was identical to Melina’s.
“......Melina?”
My lips, which had moved unconsciously, froze. Alessia’s gaze traveled up, scanning my hair and eyes.
Then she stiffened.
“Young Master Abel, I presume.”
She glanced between me and Melina, lips twitching anxiously.
“W-Why is my daughter...”
Her already pale face drained to ashen.
Her mind was probably swarming with all the rumors that followed me.
The wastrel who cycled through prostitutes daily, light in the loins.
“I can guess what you’re thinking,”
I cut in before she jumped to irreversible conclusions.
“But it’s not that. Don’t misunderstand.”
“Pardon?”
“I met this one at Magna Morten.”
“Ah.”
Alessia’s face brightened momentarily, then darkened.
“She didn’t... again, did she?”
“Yeah. She was downing Fire Brandy like water.”
Alessia’s expression turned red and blue with fury toward Melina. Without me there, those pot-lid-sized hands probably would’ve smacked her daughter’s back.
I shrugged and approached. Offering Melina to Alessia, she took her daughter and settled her in a nearby chair.
“This girl, really...”
Alessia pinched the bridge of her nose at the alcohol stench wafting from Melina’s mouth.
“Stealing her father’s liquor again.”
“Guess the tolerance is genetic.”
“It was his favorite in life.”
Despite her displeased expression, Alessia gently brushed back Melina’s fallen hair.
“I thought she was doing better lately, but it seems she’s still struggling.”