Chapter 13
Chapter 13
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 13
Chapter Title: The Millstone of Fate Turns Slowly
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Among Irha Livingston's days at the academy, the happiest one was drawing to a close.
"What? Did something good happen? You're all smiles today."
Her roommate Lina asked in surprise at Irha's grinning face.
"Yeah...! I ate a ton of delicious stuff."
"Didn't you go out to work? Did they feed you dinner at your job?"
Lina knew how hard Irha was scraping together every penny to send to the orphanage, so she looked a bit shocked.
Irha hardly ever ate all three meals a day because she was always short on money to send back.
Even though nasty rumors swirled around her and she was subtly ostracized, Lina knew it was all nonsense.
"Hehe... I ate with Ras, Professor Isera Bernstein, and Professor Rozali Berhart, and they treated me!"
"Professor Isera picked up the tab."
It was an odd combo that didn't seem to fit, but professors sometimes bought meals for students they mentored, so it wasn't that strange.
Somehow feeling refreshed, Irha grinned as she crawled into bed and yanked the covers over her head.
All the day's events—no, everything from that chance encounter with Ras on Saturday—unfolded like a panorama in her mind.
'Hehe...! Ever since I became Ras's lackey, all these good things keep happening...!'
The world's most delicious food at a super high-end restaurant she'd never dream of visiting in her lifetime!
The mint choco bread and milk that brightened her Monday morning!
Lunch at the faculty dining hall, praised by Professor Isera!
The special menu items from "Bald Man's Ecstasy" that were way tastier than she'd imagined!
Wow...!!!!
All of it was ultra-premium grub she'd gotten to eat after becoming Ras's lackey.
She was mostly fixated on the food, but there were even better things.
The low-rank scrub who'd been struggling had landed a solid hit on top-tier Rizli de Gracia in Combat Magic Theory class.
Despite the huge skill gap and her loss, Irha racked up major points.
Professor Isera was clearly impressed by her tenacity, showering her with praise and encouragement.
And that wasn't all.
Over dinner, Professor Isera heard Irha's sob story and even offered personal support.
In exchange for Irha sending a fixed monthly stipend to Livingston Orphanage, she'd ignore the orphanage's woes and focus on her studies.
From the professor's view, this rough gem with solid talent was on a clear path to flunking out and dropping after pointless suffering.
Even Rozali Berhart, eating beside them, vaguely got roped into the "Help Irha Foundation," wrapping up the meal on a heartwarming note.
'This is all thanks to Lord Ras's grace...!'
Feeling hope bubbling up wildly, Irha closed her eyes.
Exhausted from the day, poor Irha drifted off to sleep in a snap...
That night, she dreamed of running bread errands for Ras the whole time.
In the dream, Ras gave her a kind smile and patted her head for bringing the mint choco bread.
*
Time flew, and it was already Thursday morning.
"Hehe...!"
Seeing my lackey beaming for days straight made me happy too, but it also tugged at my heartstrings.
Her face, gaunt after just four days, screamed how much she'd been grinding body and soul.
"Oh no. Pull it together!"
Irha glanced at the clock and bolted up, dashing off somewhere.
I knew exactly what she was off to do...
"Sigh... Making her run bread errands again? You're one scary villain, Ras."
Marisa sidled up and tossed the jab casually.
She hung out with Leon a lot, but they weren't dating or anything close—they just kinda orbited each other loosely.
Look, Leon was elegantly buried in a thick thesis paper, zero interest in what his girlfriend was up to.
I shrugged at Marisa's roast.
"I'm not making her. She's offering it up with gratitude and respect. Big difference between 'ah' and 'eo,' right?"
"Gratitude, respect, and tribute? Words that go together now? This place really is an academy—always learning something new."
Marisa fired back with her fancy, hard-to-pin-down speech pattern.
She glanced around like she was looking for Rizli, who should be nearby, but no need.
Rizli hadn't sat next to me since Tuesday.
She didn't glare or anything when I chatted with Irha or other girls like Marisa.
Classmates whispered about us suddenly drifting apart, but no one bold enough to straight-up ask if we fought.
Couldn't blame 'em—I'd thrashed Blever and got daily bread tributes from Irha; I probably looked terrifying.
But with eyes in the back of my head, I often felt Rizli's blank stare on me.
Her gaze on me and my circle was empty, yet hid a ton underneath.
What emotions and resolves were mixed in that void?
It felt a bit different from her past-life scheme: apologizing to my face while plotting behind my back.
Truth is, nothing from Round 1 could repeat exactly.
Recapturing those exact emotions, moods, mindsets was impossible.
My future knowledge twisted every action, rippling big or small changes into the future.
For example, recruiting Irha as my lackey and helping with her Rizli duel got her financial aid from Isera and Rozali—unlike Round 1.
Same for me.
Beating Blever senseless built ties with Professor Isera (no prior link) and Professor Rozali (pre-poisoning).
So yeah, my changed behavior might nudge Rizli toward different choices.
My last kindness to her? Not personally confirming her affair with Leon.
If even I didn't corner her, maybe she'd pick a different path? A bit of that hope lingered. (Mostly 'cause it was a hassle and I couldn't stand the sight.)
But... seeing her face and eyes, it didn't seem like she'd choose right.
No guilt or regret toward me or Marisa, no honest intent to apologize.
Some things are just too hard to change... something like that?
Suddenly, a novel from childhood popped up: irony of fate and prophecy.
A son born under prophecy to kill his king father as an adult.
Father tries to kill him to avert it—sparking the chain that leads to his death by the son's hand after twists and turns.
'The millstone of fate turns slowly, but it never drops a single grain.'
In my life now, it wasn't just about Rizli.
Even trying to change, some events seemed destined to hit anyway.
For instance...
"Ras...! Melon bread today. But you hate mint choco that much?"
I sighed deeply at Irha's ridiculous "question."
Her being a total airhead was another unchangeable constant, regression be damned.
"Hey, that's not food. Why are you so obsessed with mint choco?"
"If I may humbly say, Miss Irha is indeed a madwoman... I've never seen anyone as purely insane as her."
See? Even this sweet girl has no mercy! Quit torturing us with mint choco, Irha.
"Eung... If you just try it once, you'd love it... The lackey's persuasion continues!"
Hehe...! I swallowed my question, watching her brighten obviously.
Irha, your greatest sorrow and tragedy is coming for you soon.
When it hits, will you repeat the past?
Or... in this slightly altered situation, make a fitting choice and embrace a new life?
Hoping I never have to kill her myself, I quietly prayed for her.
*
They say big misfortune follows small happiness?
After days of dreamlike bliss that felt like lies, Irha Livingston's nightmare began Friday morning.
Clutching a letter, her eyes and hands trembled as she read.
In under five minutes, her face went paler than after two days of skipping meals.
The neat handwriting was smudged here and there, like teardrops had fallen.
My dear Irha,
A little while ago, Mirha got a chance for a free detailed diagnosis of her symptoms.
They kept saying her symptoms pointed to a rare congenital mana-related illness.
You were born with innate mana talent, so your sister Mirha probably wasn't closed off to mana either.
We visited a research institute under the Celestial Church in the capital... and found a clue about Mirha's condition.
Mirha has an extremely cold innate mana nature.
Extreme Yin... They say this mana, which manifests very rarely and only in girls, grants great talent in ice magic.
But the problem is the manifestation timing.
If it awakens after adulthood, surgery to extract or stabilize it has high success rates...
But for kids like Mirha, success is nearly zero...
There are a few rare successes, but...
Right now, Mirha's been given about a month's terminal prognosis.
She's been passing out more often lately and struggling.
Too young and malnourished, so she's suffering more than most kids, they said.
I hated burdening you while you're studying hard, but her condition's worsening fast, so better to tell you early.
And honestly... maybe in Leone, you know someone who can help with magic or healing?
Leone's the top academy—bound to have experts, right?
Shame or debt feelings matter, but whatever help comes, I just want Mirha to get a new life.
I'm always sorry to you, but I'll beg again.
Find a helping hand.
Mom's doing her utmost too—I'll let you know any good news right away.
Irha, my beloved daughter.
Mom didn't carry you both, but she loves you so, so much.
Forgive your sinful, powerless mom.
That's all for now.
Having read the letter, Irha couldn't utter a word.
She just wept endlessly, not a trace of small happiness left.
And that afternoon, as if fate's prank, a sinister shadow crept toward Irha Livingston.