Episode 36

The next morning.

Philip couldn't hide his bewildered expression after hearing Logan's words.

"A thief? And you couldn't catch them?"

"Not even close. I couldn't lay a finger on them—couldn't even sense their movements."

"Hmm. That means they're at least an upper-tier Force User. And someone like that resorted to stealing?"

Philip's reaction was simple, given that he had only heard rumors of Logan's prowess.

But Logan couldn't dismiss it so easily.

During meditation, his senses were heightened several times beyond normal.

Even with his enhanced physical abilities and perception from Force Core, combined with the focus of meditation, he had barely managed to detect a presence.

'Upper-tier? No way. At the very least, they're a peak-tier Force User. No—even that might not be enough. It wasn't just about skill level—it felt like an entirely different league. Could it be...?'

Underestimating an enemy was dangerous, but overestimating them was just as problematic.

Logan resisted jumping to conclusions, yet his instincts insisted that his baseless speculation was correct.

"An Aura User... as a thief? That's absurd."

Even he found the thought ridiculous and couldn't help but laugh at himself.

An Aura User—someone who had surpassed the limits of Force and wielded the divine power of Aura, a true transcendent.

Even if they were born commoners, they could instantly rise to nobility. In the Empire, they could even earn the title of Count.

And yet, such a being had stooped to petty theft?

Philip waved his hands dismissively, his face twisted in disbelief.

"Come on, Logan. You're exaggerating. Don't say such ridiculous things—just check if anything's missing."

"Almost nothing."

"...Almost?"

"We packed the Impolic properly, right?"

"Of course. We were selling it to nobles. I checked multiple times— Wait, what? You don't mean...?"

"Two pills are missing from one box. It's such a small amount that it feels negligible, but that's all."

If someone wanted to steal, they should've taken the whole box.

Why go through the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠trouble of opening it and taking just two pills?

'We might have miscounted, but...'

It was far more likely that the thief had taken them.

But connecting this to his earlier speculation made the situation even stranger.

—An Aura User stole exactly two stamina-enhancing pills.

'Why?'

An Aura User, having reached the pinnacle of Force and unlocked the divine power of Aura, naturally possessed physical abilities far surpassing ordinary humans—including vitality.

Most Aura Users maintained numerous concubines and sired dozens of children.

Would such a person really need stamina pills?

'No. Impolic isn't just a stamina enhancer. We advertised it as a miracle drug capable of healing even physical impotence... Could it be?'

Again, it was just a hunch—no concrete evidence.

But following that flash of intuition, Logan asked Philip:

"That list from before! Were there any Aura Users on it?"

"Huh? That was classified—you refused to pay extra for it. Said we didn't need it."

"Ah, right. Then..."

"But didn't you say we didn't need records because we already knew?"

"What?"

"There's only one Aura User in the capital without descendants."

"Ah!"

It was a distant memory for Logan.

He hadn't paid much attention to the absolute powerhouses, thinking they wouldn't be relevant anytime soon.

But now, the information resurfaced.

The Grandia Kingdom had five Aura Users, only two of whom resided in the capital.

And among them, there was definitely one who fit the description.

While most Aura Users boasted vitality matching their immense physical prowess, there was one transcendent who stood out—without a single descendant.

Giggle.

"Catch me if you can!"

"Waaah! Mommy!"

"Nanny! He hit me!"

Sniffle.

The children playing in the streets were full of energy.

Their lively antics were enough to bring a smile to anyone watching—but for the middle-aged man observing them from the mansion window, the sight only left a bitter taste in his mouth.

'Children...'

His life had been one without regrets—a life he could proudly claim to anyone.

And most who knew him would say the same.

There was just one thing missing—a child of his own.

That was all.

Of course, he never let it show.

Having only one regret in life was, in a way, proof of how fortunate he was.

He wasn't so greedy or shallow ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠as to dwell on it.

But sometimes, when he saw the innocent, joyful faces of children like this, a dull ache would rise from deep within his chest, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠needling his heart.

No matter how hard he tried to ignore it, all he could muster was a bitter smile.

"...What are you looking at?"

A familiar, beautiful voice startled him into turning around.

"Ah! My dear. Haha, I was just admiring the scenery outside. The wind's a bit chilly—I shouldn't have left the window open. Let's go inside."

He found it ridiculous to call the warm early summer breeze "chilly."

But his beloved wife's eyes were already fixed on the children outside.

"You're thinking about it again..."

The pain flickering in her large eyes stabbed deeper into his heart.

So before she could finish, he hurriedly cut in.

"No, I was just enjoying the view. Don't worry about it. Come on, let's go inside."

The pain had originated from ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠him—yet here he was, stirring it up again.

Hiding his darkened expression, he turned away—

Thud.

Soft arms wrapped around his chest from behind.

"...Darling. I'm truly happy to have met you. You know that, right?"

His throat tightened. He lifted his gaze to the ceiling.

"I... feel the same."

His answer came a little late, but his words held nothing but sincerity.

"So don't hurt yourself over it. We... still have each other."

He was grateful—so grateful he couldn't bear to look at her face.

Perhaps it was his age, but tears threatened to spill again.

All he could do was stroke the small, delicate hands clinging to his chest and stare helplessly at the ceiling.

Felix Esperanza.

The greatest swordsman in the kingdom, praised by all—yet burdened by a deep-seated regret.

It had begun with an unjust injury in his youth.

A battle for his homeland—and a wound to his groin, leaving him with a fatal flaw as a man.

But in his younger days, he hadn't cared.

He had lived the life he wanted, doing what he wished—and the injury was just part of that.

'A knight wounded in duty. It's an honorable scar.'

It wasn't something to boast about, but neither was it shameful.

Just... regrettable. That was all.

But as the years passed, that buried regret began to ache more sharply.

'I should have left behind an heir...'

By the time he turned fifty and was recognized as the kingdom's strongest, the thought struck him.

What did it matter if he elevated his house to a dukedom or earned fame across the land?

Without a descendant to inherit it all, everything felt hollow.

The regret that had once driven him to train harder in his youth—

Now, it had become a full-fledged pain.

It was around then that he met his current wife.

At first, he thought it was pity.

Seeing a young woman with lifeless eyes, he simply wanted to restore their light.

Felix didn't even realize it was love.

But she was so grateful—and beyond that, she actively expressed her affection.

When he awkwardly confessed his weakness, her response stunned him.

—...How much you must have suffered.

Seeing her cry for his pain, the regret he had carried for so long began to fade.

Only then did he understand love—and, at the same time, fully recognize his pain.

—If you'll have me, let me stay by your side. I'll repay your kindness for the rest of my life.

He thought her love too generous.

Despite opposition from his retainers, they married.

Now, over a decade had passed since then.

Those years had been happy—yet the pain in his heart never fully disappeared.

No, precisely because everything else was so good, that single regret stood out all the more.

And so, sometimes, he made foolish mistakes like this.

Cough. "I'll go attend to some work, my dear. I might be late."

"...Are you really alright?"

"Of course. Who do you take me for? Don't worry."

Felix, nearing seventy, puffed out his chest like a brash young man.

It was far better than shedding tears in front of his wife.

"...That concludes the regular report."

"Good work."

Even after the routine territory briefing ended, his adjutant lingered.

Clearly, he had something else to say.

"Louis. If you have something to say, out with it."

"Your Grace. It's... that matter again..."

The hesitant reply made Duke Felix's brow furrow sharply.

"The adoption talk again?"

"...The vassals are growing insistent."

"Do they want me to die sooner or something?"

"How could they? They're just concerned for the house's future."

"Tch. I don't want to hear it! How many times must I say this? By the time I die, the collateral-line children they're proposing might already have grandchildren of their own. And they want to decide succession now?"

He was nearing seventy.

But as the kingdom's strongest Aura User, his appearance barely resembled a man in his forties.

So his threat wasn't entirely baseless—but even an Aura User couldn't remain young forever.

Unless one became a legendary Ore Master, aging inevitably came, marking the end of an Aura User's life.

Knowing this, his vassals couldn't help but worry.

But they couldn't outright say, "We don't know when you'll die."

So Louis could only fall silent again.

Felix, too, felt uneasy watching his adjutant.

He knew he was being stubborn.

'But not yet. Not just yet.'

Adopting an heir felt like declaring the complete surrender of the lingering regret buried deep in his heart.

Even knowing it was inevitable, he couldn't bring himself to do it.

'Just a little longer...'

Even if it was foolish. Even if it was selfish.

"Your Grace. This may be delicate, but..."

"What now?"

"There's a new medicine gaining quite a reputation in the capital—rumored to be miraculous."

"...Medicine?"

"It's called... Impolic. They say it's exceptionally effective for men..."

Bracing for reprimand, Louis squeezed his eyes shut as he spoke.

"...Is that so."

But his superior's reaction was unexpectedly calm.

Encouraged, Louis quickly added the most crucial detail.

"They say it can even heal physical wounds—that it's truly a miracle drug!"

"Ha..."

"I know you don't believe in such things, but the rumors from those who've tried it are overwhelming."

"Heh. Heheh."

Felix let out a hollow laugh at his adjutant's bowed head.

He knew Louis meant well.

But he had already heard the rumors. In fact, he—

'Already tried it.'

The memory of last night made his face burn.

Yesterday evening, he had seen his wife weeping by the window, watching the sunset and the children outside—just as he had today.

And in that moment, decades of discipline crumbled.

Emotion overpowered reason—leading to an impulsive act of theft.

The two stolen Impolic pills were already in his stomach.

But...

No miracle had occurred.

"Louis. Take rumors with a grain of salt. If Aura couldn't fix it, what hope does some pill have?"

One act of foolish hope was enough.

"...My apologies."

The day's work seemed destined to end on this absurd note.

At least, until a knight rushed in with urgent news.

"Your Grace! A guest has arrived from outside..."