Time of Farewell
Worries.
A time of farewell.
Saying he wanted to make his goodbyes, Shiron sent the rest of the party outside first.
Before the castle gate he took his time looking over the household staff once more.
Not one of them was shedding tears. If anything, they only seemed resentful that Encia and Ophelia had slipped away ahead of everyone else and left them behind.
That suited Shiron just fine. It wasn’t as if he would never see them again, and the fewer occasions for tears in a lifetime, the better.
So he spoke in a calm, even tone.
“Once I’ve gotten a little stronger, I’ll come back. Hold the fort until then.”
“I shall pray that day arrives soon. I already feel as though I will miss Young Master’s face by tomorrow.”
Yuma’s voice was soft, but her eyes looked sad.
She then held out a small pouch. Shiron took it with a question mark written across his face.
“What’s this?”
“I selected items from the storehouse that can be exchanged for coin at once. They say there is never enough money, no matter how much one has.”
When he opened the mouth of the pouch, jewels and ornaments of every color peeked out. Shiron smiled with quiet satisfaction and tucked the pouch away inside his clothes.
“You didn’t have to go this far for me.”
He had already packed everything useful, yet Yuma still gave without reserve. Once again he was reminded how thoroughly she favored him.
“Take care of yourself.”
“It is Young Master I worry about far more.”
“Yeah, worry about me a lot. My road ahead is pitch-black, so I’m plenty worried myself.”
Even in a moment like this Shiron cracked a joke for her. The smile that had never left his face all morning stood in sharp contrast to Yuma’s shadowed expression.
“And this.”
He held out a single letter.
“What is it?”
“You’ll go to Father after I leave, right? Don’t open it now. Open it then.”
“...Understood.”
Yuma received the letter with both hands, respectful.
A Young Master who had awakened the power of Prophecy before even holding his coming-of-age ceremony—something without precedent. He could already see the path that lay ahead.
Yet it raised no goosebumps. It only deepened her trust in him.
Only then could Yuma manage even a small smile.
“I’m done.”
It was time to finish the goodbyes.
Business concluded, Shiron turned and looked at Lucia.
The awkward way she stood made it plain she still found Yuma and the maids difficult company.
Lucia put on a brusque face and averted her eyes.
“It’s fine. I’m not a kid.”
“You are a kid. And who draws a line between kids and adults when saying goodbye?”
“...”
The little brat wouldn’t even answer.
Did reincarnation turn her into a real child?
Deciding enough was enough, Shiron walked over and gave her back a solid shove.
“Stop being stubborn.”
“Hah—don’t!”
She resisted hard, but Shiron pushed with everything he had, determined not to lose.
Lucia twisted around and glared as if she meant to kill him; Shiron simply closed his eyes and pretended not to notice.
And so Lucia and Yuma found themselves face to face.
Resigned that there was no helping it now, Lucia spoke.
“...Thank you for everything.”
“I am certain Lady Lucia will adapt well to her new home.”
Both kept their expressions carefully blank throughout the exchange.
“I’ll be going now.”
“Safe travels.”
With those words Yuma bowed at the waist.
It was a thoroughly dry farewell.
Coming right after the warm conversation Shiron and Yuma had shared, the two of them almost looked like sworn enemies.
Well, they kind of are.
Shiron watched the stiff pair and let out a quiet snort of laughter.
The one who had given Yuma the moniker “One-horned Yuma” was none other than Kyle, Lucia’s previous life. Yuma might not know, but the thought that Lucia was conscious of that fact left him in a thoroughly pleasant mood.
Lucia dipped her head toward Yuma.
Then she spun around and shot Shiron a piercing glare.
“You really are a mean-spirited bastard.”
“You’re only just figuring that out? Holding it in was starting to make me itch.”
“Look at that shameless face. You’re rotten, you know that?”
“Right? Why am I like this? Probably because I got raised by demons this whole time—messed my head up.”
“......”
“I didn’t sleep. I’m dying. I’m going on ahead.”
Finished speaking, Shiron stretched out a long yawn and strode off. Lucia simply watched his retreating back.
In the end I leave without learning a single thing.
She pushed down the uneasy feeling and took one last look at the panorama of Dawn Castle.
The first remnants of the past she had encountered since reincarnating.
All she had discovered here was that the Prien family was being raised and maintained by demons.
A little over two months had been far too short to uncover the reason for her own reincarnation on her own.
She had spent nearly every hour outside morning training in the study, yet the history books she had only barely learned to read contained not a single line explaining how the Prien family had come into being.
Only occasional mentions that they were descendants of the hero.
If I had been stronger, could I have simply asked Yuma the reason myself?
Lucia glanced back at the woman she had just exchanged greetings with. As Yuma bowed her head in farewell, the single horn on her head stood out all the more.
The discomfort Lucia felt every time she looked at Yuma was partly because the woman was a demon, but the existence of that horn was the greater part.
Five hundred years ago, when she had fought demons day in and day out.
Yuma had reigned as a terror over the expeditionary forces, yet even she had been no match for Kyle. By the time Yuma first met her, Kyle had already stepped into the realm of the Sword God.
—You demons are so proud of your horns, aren’t you?
—Stop...
—Why should I? You’re the one who kept killing people even after I told you not to.
With cold eyes Kyle had turned Yuma into a one-horned demon. The memory was still vivid: the moment her internal-force-charged hand shattered the left horn, Yuma had screamed in pure despair.
Sometimes the venomous glare Yuma used to wear would overlay the face she wore now.
The Kyle of those days might have dismissed that grudge as nothing. She might have sneered and mocked, daring Yuma to come try her luck.
That was certainly how it had been. But she could not be that way now.
She had never expected to reincarnate.
She had never expected to meet like this.
Kyle, reborn as Lucia, was far too weak. Powerless enough that a single gesture from Yuma could kill her.
If I had revealed I was Kyle... I probably would have died.
These days Yuma smiled warmly at the children as if she were their mother, but once a crack formed in human feelings it was never easy to fill.
Compared to back then, both Yuma and I have grown a lot gentler... yet still.
Even so, the fact that Yuma was a demon remained unchanged. Lucia had not forgotten those venomous eyes.
Leaving Dawn Castle, then, was liberation for her.
If Hugo had not suggested it first, she might have been forced to live here forever carrying that uncomfortable weight in her heart.
What was fortunate was that Shiron had decided to follow Hugo as well. It meant parting from the people he had known for so long, yet Shiron had chosen to leave Dawn Castle.
His face had been full of certainty—too full to call the decision hasty. She had wondered how he could wear such an expression, but asking him directly yielded nothing.
As if he thought himself some sort of bard, he only spun bizarre tales about starlight and the like.
Whether he was speaking truth or simply deflecting was impossible to tell, but with Lucia herself hiding the fact that she was a reincarnator from Shiron, she could dig no deeper.
At least until the day I can safely reveal I am Kyle...
Lucia felt the need to grow stronger as quickly as possible.
She had no intention of revealing her identity to Shiron until she was strong enough to overcome every danger that might follow, even after she declared herself Kyle.
Hoping that day would come soon, she quickened her pace.
In the distance she could already see the carriage Hugo had prepared.
The road to the capital.
At the end of the knight order’s procession, inside an especially splendid carriage.
“Big brother must have been really tired. He’s sleeping like the dead.”
Siriel giggled as she looked at Shiron, who had claimed an entire corner of the seat for himself. No matter how luxurious the carriage Hugo had prepared, it jolted this badly—and yet Shiron slept on without a care.
“True. What was he doing last night that left him this exhausted?”
Lucia answered curtly and stole a glance at Shiron’s hands.
They rested neatly folded over his navel, looking for all the world like a corpse laid out in a coffin.
Sometime without her noticing, those hands had completely healed. It was nothing like human regeneration. She had expected the wounds to remain open for months at least.
“...Your hands. They’re fine now.”
“Hm? Ah, the hands. I’m glad they healed so quickly.”
“...Yeah.”
Her words were calm, but Lucia’s expression was anything but easy. Siriel only grinned without a thought in her head, yet even to Lucia’s eyes Shiron’s regenerative power was strange.
The power of the Prien bloodline? Or the influence of the Holy Sword? Since Shiron was still a child who could not even handle internal energy, her guesses naturally drifted in those directions.
In the end nothing inside Lucia had been resolved; only more questions piled up—when suddenly:
Krrrrrrumble—!
“What?!”
The carriage began to shake violently.
Dust must have risen outside; the interior went dark.
“Landslide? Ambush?”
“Mm... neither, I think.”
“Neither?”
Lucia narrowed her eyes at Siriel’s denial.
The entire ground was heaving as if in an earthquake, yet Siriel’s face remained oddly serene.
And that was not even the worst of it. In the middle of this chaos Shiron continued to sleep as peacefully as ever.
A short while later the shaking stopped.
“...It stopped.”
“See? It happened a few times on the way here, too.”
Clunk—
With the vibrations gone, the carriage started moving again.
“A few times?”
“Yeah.”
Siriel smiled brightly and resettled Shiron, who had been one jolt away from sliding off the seat.
“The cause is probably Father.”
“Lord Hugo... you mean Uncle?”
“Mm-hm. Want to look out the window?”
“?”
As she finished speaking, Siriel turned her gaze outside. Lucia followed suit.
A moment later the dust cleared, and Lucia’s eyes went wide.
Something enormous had been split cleanly in two.
Right now the procession was threading the gap between the halves.
As the carriage rolled steadily forward, a limp, massive form filled the entire landscape.
“...”
“Looks like Father took care of a magic beast that was blocking the road.”
Lucia turned toward Siriel.
As if something of this scale were nothing at all, Siriel was smiling with perfect composure.