A Dog's Unyielding Gaze
Sigmund let out a small, dry chuckle as he stared at Idel with narrowed eyes.
“You like that kind of thing?”
“Eh, me too.”
“You're funny.”
Was that not satisfactory? His grip loosened, as if daring her to speak further, only to tighten once more.
Idel's face crumpled as the pain in her elbow began to feel like it would snap.
She had been boiling because of this crazy man who couldn't understand a single word she said.
Memories of her past life surfaced. The childish anger she had suppressed like ice to endure this cruel situation suddenly surged back to life.
Idel opened her thin eyes with her usual composure.
*If I hit his head again...*
She considered doing it once more. It might crack her skull too, but who cared? As long as she could make that guy cry.
Just as she was swept away by emotion, completely forgetting the chore of returning to the ducal family, a large, cold hand gently covered her forehead and stopped her movement.
At the same time, a weary male voice drifted down from above.
“It seems like the adults are butting in late on the kids' fight. That's pitiful, but let's both stop here.”
When she looked up, a gaunt man with gray hair and porcelain skin stood there.
His dense green eyes brimmed with unmistakable exhaustion.
*Judging by the way he's speaking like a guardian, he's probably a warlock...*
Why did his appearance look like that? He really seemed like someone who wouldn't let anyone sleep until their work was done.
As Idel scrutinized the warlock with suspicion, the man beneath her began to stir. *Why is he doing this?*
Idel grimaced at the displeasing fidgeting and quickly averted her gaze.
The “mad dog” who had been roughly wiping the blood with his sleeve noticed the gap and raised his eyebrows fiercely.
His voice, laced with dissatisfaction, shot out.
“What are you staring at? Move.”
“Hey, you're pretty bold... ouch!”
Idel tumbled to the ground from the inconsiderate shove and let out a bewildered laugh.
Blue flames flickered in her eyes amid the messy red hair.
*This bastard...*
As she glared at the mad dog, who was nodding as if to say, “What are you going to do about it?”, a hand extended toward her with a short sigh.
The man, sensing the second round of fighting between master and disciple, had taken the lead first.
“Are you okay? Can you stand?”
“...Yes.”
“Even your forehead... I'll treat the injured areas, so could you put away that look like you're about to knock someone down. Sigmund, stop it too.”
The guy’s name was Sigmund.
Idel quickly recalled the name of the mad dog and let out a silent chuckle inside. It was a pretty decent name. Unlike its owner.
Sigmund, who had caught the meaning of Idel's laugh, tilted his head and twisted his lips in a smirk.
His downcast eyes, with his chin raised, held a mocking glint, as if to say, “Shut up.”
“Hey, are you two still going to keep going?”
The man complained like animals fighting over territory, then pressed his fingers against his eyelids.
His voice, already weary, came out.
“Let’s go to the shop first. We can't even treat you here... We have to consult the customer too.”
“That tiny guy is the customer?”
As Sigmund crossed his legs rudely, the man snapped his fingers and slapped him.
It was common sense not to judge a person by appearance.
Before Sigmund could answer, the man turned and stared at Idel intently.
Despite the weary expression, his gaze was sharp.
“...So, facing you directly, I get it. I roughly guessed why you came looking for me while messing up the Crow's Nest.”
The warlock's casual remark made Idel's eyes widen.
That meant he had noticed something about her just from looking at her.
“Anyway, both of you follow me.”
After quickly sorting out the situation with a light tone, he exited the alley without delay.
Because the alley was narrow, the shoulders of the two people chasing the warlock collided.
“Hey, you own the whole alley?”
Thanks to their mutual dislike, a fight broke out immediately from Sigmund's mouth, but it never escalated.
Idel had shut her mouth because she had given up hope from the warlock's words.
She pressed her heart with a small hand and silently followed the man's back.
*...What?*
Sigmund, who had read the completely different expression and atmosphere, let out a short sigh and turned his head.
He knew that picking a fight with someone in this state was pointless.
Meanwhile, thanks to Sigmund becoming docile, Idel followed the warlock peacefully and narrowed her eyes with a strange familiarity.
It was because the places she had wandered through countless times had become familiar.
*Wait a second.*
Two alleys later, on the right, the narrow path beside the red barrel guy's left side.
*This... This is the way out of the Crow's Nest, right? The path with the double crow sign.*
Wasn't he just going to throw them out into the alley and disappear?
While Idel rolled her eyes with curiosity and caution, the warlock turned halfway in front of a doll shop.
“Come quickly. My shop.”
As soon as the warlock finished speaking, a muffled curse slipped from Idel's lips.
“Dog training.”
“What?”
“...No, nothing. It's just...”
Just thinking about the effort and time she had wasted pouring into thin air.
Idel clenched her fist and swallowed the rest in silence. Her gaze slowly swept over the shop the warlock had pointed to.
A worn-out sign and windows covered in dust.
The shop the warlock had guided her to was the very first one she had visited after passing the double crow sign.
*Hah, so the uncle from before was a disguise?*
“Move fast.”
“...I'm going in now.”
Only after hearing Sigmund's voice did Idel snap out of her daze and climb the stairs into the shop.
The man who had been pretending when she first visited laughed heartily upon her arrival.
“Wahaha! Meeting again, young lady!”
“...Yes, very happy to see you too.”
After rubbing out the cigarette in his mouth, the man patted Idel's shoulder cheerfully and handed her an apple.
“Ehehe, sorry about before. No, I was employed, you see~”
“Yes, whatever you say. Are you leaving now?”
“Since the owner is here, I have to go. Eat well, young lady, and work hard, Sigmund.”
Sigmund waved his hand as if annoyed, and as soon as the man left, he closed the door.
He then changed the sign hanging on the window to “Closed” and drew the curtain.
“Um...”
“Here. Medicine. Sit on the chair over there first, apply it to your forehead.”
“Okay, I will.”
Idel applied the medicine and watched the two bustling people in silence.
It wasn't his specialty, but the warlock lit a candle and pushed the messy dolls into a corner.
He only added a bit of water to the pot with strange steam and moved it to the side shelf; he didn't dispose of the contents.
As she wondered if it was even okay this way, the warlock sat in front of the somewhat cleaned desk and let out a long sigh.
In that short time, the man looked like he had aged half a year.
“...It's really exhausting, but I have to do what needs to be done. Shall we continue from where we left off in the alley?”
“Can I confirm one thing before the main point? It seems too easy for the rumored doll sorcerer to help. What do you think I am to you? Do you just help people sincerely, or are you weak to kids?”
“Hey, it's a bit late to be cautious now... Anyway, let's move on. What should I say...”
He murmured while rubbing his eyelids as a habit.
“It would be better if you understood. When solving problems, I'll be poking around here anyway, right? That's how it is. The surrounding gazes aren't good. Most people keep quiet to avoid fighting with me or Sigmund causing trouble, but it gets dangerous if we keep it up.”
In other words, instead of waiting for the Crow's Nest people to handle him, he had chosen to give them what they wanted quickly and send them off.
Idel nodded, finally understanding the situation.
Unlike what the warlock said, she wouldn't come here this often, but there was no need to twist the interpretation favorable to her.
Idel decided to confirm her instincts from the alley again.
“You noticed?”
“First, let's introduce ourselves. I'm Viled. As you know, the owner of a doll shop who knows curses. You can call me a doll sorcerer.”
“Ah, the name. Just call me ‘Del’ for short.”
As Idel lightly shook Viled's outstretched hand, Sigmund, bandaging the side, muttered.
He had probably caught that “Del” was a pseudonym.
“If I answer the question, yes. I knew the moment I saw you. You have a curse, right? Exactly confirming it now would be best, but the system is mental.”
“Yes. This really feels disgusting.”
“That’s why it was made.”
“Can it be removed?”
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