Chapter 7
The Flower That Bears a Sword - Chapter 7
Translation: godsn
She gritted her teeth, folded the bundle, and tucked it away. Meanwhile, they arrived at Eki's private bathroom.
"Wash up first, and I'll prepare your clothes. Shall I bring breakfast to you, or would you like to join everyone in the dining room?"
"Join who, exactly?"
"Why, the master, the mistress, and the young master, of course. Since you often sleep in, I'll need to inform the kitchen in advance if you wish to dine together."
"The master, the mistress, and the young master... You mean... my parents? And... Lancelid?"
"Who else would they be? You're acting strange today, miss."
"My... parents."
"Anyway, you'll be joining them, right? I'll go tell the kitchen."
"Mmm..."
As she answered blankly, Nora left for the kitchen. Eki stepped into the bathroom with unsteady feet. Inside, a large full-length mirror stood. Her reflection stared back from the flawless surface, untouched by blemishes. She froze.
There stood Echinacea Roaz at twenty years old. Her youthful self—unstained by blood, unmarked by wounds.
Nora, who wasn't dead, had spoken of parents and a younger brother who weren't dead. She had asked if Eki wanted to share a meal with them. That simple question struck her with unbearable force. The face in the mirror twisted as if about to weep.
"They're all alive. Really."
Her heart pounded as though it might shatter. She wanted to run straight to her father, to see his face, to throw herself into her mother's embrace. Her entire body trembled violently. Unable to stand, she crumpled to the floor in a heap.
She had saved them. She had done it. Everything had changed. Unlike the morning of March 17th she remembered, this was a morning where everyone was alive.
The nightmare of those six years and the nine years spent without rest, gathering Giosa's fragments, all surged back in a chaotic jumble. Memories drenched in blood and blackened by despair. Desperate struggles and vivid pain.
Yet now, faced with the result, none of those memories felt unbearable. Overwhelming relief and joy crashed over her, and she took deep breaths for a long moment. Her cheeks burned so hot she rubbed them repeatedly with her hands. Tears welled up, and she pressed her fingertips firmly against her eyelids. If there were any traces of crying, everyone would worry.
Worry—what a sweet reality that was. It had been so long since she'd had anyone left to worry about her. She had lost them all, and even the one person she had miraculously regained had died by her own hand.
Yurien de Harden Kyrie.
Those clear blue eyes that had once looked straight at her. The eyes that hadn't even realized they were dying by her hand.
'He must be... alive too.'
She wanted to see him. To tell him she had finally done it, that his choice hadn't been wrong. But he wouldn't know anything. That was fine—some memories were better left unknown. No, given what she had done, he had to remain unaware.
Eki let out a shuddering breath and scrubbed at her face. Then, the mark on her palm caught her eye, sending a chill down her spine. Even as she stood on the threshold of a new beginning, her greatest nightmare still remained.
'What do I do with this?'
For now, she had to conceal the mark. Gloves would be the simplest solution. After washing quickly, she found a pair of thin silk gloves and slipped them on just as Nora returned. Nora helped her into a soft lavender dress. It wasn't for parties but for daily wear—yet it had been so long since she'd worn anything like it.
Without thinking, Eki ran her fingers over the smooth fabric. She traced the delicate lace, fine as spider silk. It was pretty, soft, luxurious. She liked the way the skirt fluttered with each step. Her spirits lifted. It truly felt like everything had returned to its rightful place.
As they headed to the dining room together, Nora turned to look at her and spoke.
"You seem to be in a good mood, my lady. I was worried earlier because you seemed a bit off."
"Do I... look happy?"
"Yes, you're smiling."
"I'm smiling?"
Eki touched the corner of her mouth. She could feel the corners of her lips curled up on their own. She couldn't remember the last time she'd smiled—it might have been years. An irrepressible buoyancy filled her. She laughed aloud.
"A lady mustn't laugh so frivolously, Eki."
A gentle voice came from behind her. Eki's footsteps halted abruptly. Nora bent at the waist to bow.
"Good morning, my lord, my lady."
"Good morning, Nora. Eki, you're up early?"
"It's been so long since we've had breakfast with our daughter."
The warmly greeting Count and Countess Roaz passed by her and entered the dining room. Lancelid, who had already arrived, bowed to his parents. His hair was still damp, likely from washing after training. The Countess, strict about etiquette, lightly pointed it out, and Lancelid sheepishly covered his head.
The Count mentioned that Nicole was expected to arrive at the estate tomorrow. Nicole was a mage sponsored by House Roaz, working at the Magic Tower in the capital, who often stayed in Roaz Territory during her vacations. She was as close as a sibling to both Eki and Lancelid.
Lancelid laughed, saying he was looking forward to seeing Nicole again after so long. The Countess smiled. The Count smiled. Then, one by one, they turned their gazes toward Echinacea standing at the entrance.
"Sister, are you still half-asleep?"
"Eki, what are you doing?"
"Come in."
Morning sunlight streamed through the dining room's glass windows in abundance. Within that light, her living, breathing family called to her with smiles.
At some point, Eki realized she had stopped breathing. She wasn't even blinking. Then, like a doll being imbued with a soul, she slowly blinked. Even as the darkness of her eyelids passed over her vision, her family's figures remained. This was no illusion, no dream. It was reality. With a choked voice, she barely managed to reply.
"Yes."
She stepped into the scenery she had missed so achingly. She drank in the sight with her entire being. This was the life she had finally reclaimed, the life she would protect at any cost.
So she wouldn't let something like a Magic Sword ruin this barely recovered life. She clenched her right hand tightly and walked forward. Step by step, her family's faces grew closer. With each step, her chest grew tighter. Without realizing it, Eki murmured.
"...I really... missed you all. So, so much..."
"Huh? We saw you just yesterday."
"Seems like Sister woke up too early and is still half in a dream."
"Did you have a bad dream, Eki?"
Her parents and younger brother each chimed in. Echinacea smiled brightly, her eyes rimmed red.
"Yes... I suppose I must have had a bad dream."
She didn't know how the day passed. Her literature and dance tutors scolded her for making frequent mistakes today, but she didn't feel upset at all. To them, she was just a student who'd forgotten what she'd been taught mere days ago—they had every right to be cross. Of course, from Eki's perspective, these were lessons she hadn't heard in fifteen years, so it couldn't be helped. Yet even the classes she'd once found boring were enjoyable from start to finish now. Even their reprimands made her inexplicably happy.
And so her first day back came to an end. After Nora extinguished the lamp and withdrew, Eki lay in bed. She closed her eyes, pretending to sleep, and quietly listened for any signs of movement. Once she confirmed Nora had truly left, she carefully sat up. There was no need to light the lamp. She drew open the curtains to let in the moonlight. Even with just that faint light, she could see her surroundings as clearly as broad daylight.
Echinacea perched on the edge of her bed and examined her palm. Though she'd worn gloves all day, she couldn't keep them on while sleeping and had struggled to avoid Nora's notice.
Her gaze fell upon the black stain-like pattern before she stretched out her hand. From the pattern emerged a blade as transparent as glass—so pristine and beautiful one might suspect it was merely decorative. Yet this was a magic sword that had consumed countless lives. Echinacea stared at it with cold eyes.
"Val."
The sword didn't respond. She gripped the hilt and laid the blade flat across her palm. Wrapping her hand in mana, she struck the pattern sharply.
[Ah! Ah! Hey! Couldn't you wake me up nicely?!]
"Ah, you're awake."
She tossed the sword aside carelessly. Valdergiosa, who had been with her for nine years before the regression, was accustomed to rough treatment. The magic sword grumbled.
[I'm exhausted to death, and all my Owner does is torment me...]
"Since you're talking, you must be lucid. Explain."
[Explain what.]
"Why you're still attached to me. Explain it."
[Obviously. Time may have reversed, but your soul remains the same as before. And I'm the Giosa embedded in your soul.]
"I collected ten Giosas. Where are the others?"
[You collected them, sure, but you never awakened their egos. Only when you awaken their consciousness do you truly become their Owner! Anyway, that's why I'm the only one engraved in your soul. If your soul's the same, of course I'm the same too.]
Valdergiosa prattled on as if exasperated. Echinacea's expression twisted further. The magic sword paid no mind and continued.
[Hey, the only reason you remember everything is because you're a Giosa Owner. Without me, you'd forget it all and just be that clueless twenty-year-old from before. Oh, then you might get devoured by me again.]
"Wait."
Her face paled. If what he said was true—could it be?
"You're saying if I discard you, I'll forget everything? The memories from before the regression?"
[If you had another Giosa, that one might sustain them, but with none at all, you'd forget....But Owner, do you really want to throw me away?]
There was a hint of dejection in its tone. Echinacea sneered at the sword's attitude.
"By any means necessary."
[Heartless human...]
Even if the consciousness was different from the shell that had driven her to slaughter, fundamentally, it was still a magic sword. She had learned that lesson painfully over nine years of collecting Giosas.
Valdergiosa was a sword of carnage—forged by the Blacksmith using human malice and bloodlust as materials. No matter how harmless it acted, she couldn't let her guard down. If she did, she'd be tainted by it, craving slaughter herself. She had made that mistake before. Back when she was gathering Giosas, before the regression.
An unpleasant memory. Echinacea glared at the sword with disgust. Whether their egos were awakened or not, relinquishing a Giosa wasn't difficult. She could have discarded it the moment she saw it. The only reason she hadn't tossed it away somewhere was the fear that someone else might fall under its control.
But now, she had a reason she absolutely couldn't discard it—memory preservation. The magic sword might whine about wanting to kill, but it didn't lie.
"So I can't get rid of you until I obtain another Giosa. Is that it?"