Do You Want to Live, Simuard?

The name Simuard is renowned across the Arcana Continent, befitting a prestigious magical lineage. Every member of the bloodline possesses overwhelming mana. Geniuses with talents that other magical families struggle to produce even one of appear every other generation.

Yet no one envies the Simuard family. Their fame is matched only by the curse of their short lives. Those of Simuard blood are born with unparalleled magical gifts, but they never reach middle age before perishing. There were no exceptions—not since the family rose to prominence as a magical powerhouse.

"Hoo."

Marcelo surveyed his office. Once buried under stacks of research materials, it was now nearly organized.

"Thanks to you."

Chief Mage Lee Hoyeol. Without him, Marcelo's desk would still be cluttered with pre-conference verification documents, hypotheses about the anomaly, and even tower exit applications.

"There's a saying in this world."

That beautiful people leave beauty in their wake.

……Not that it quite fit here, but Marcelo couldn't know that. He only wanted to uphold the dignity of his position to the end.

He knew his condition better than anyone. His weakening heartbeat. The dulling flow of mana. His emaciating body.

'It started in the Crack of the Broken Dimension.'

Every spell ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠cast brought backlash to his flesh. Borrowing Bellie Senior's words…… it meant he'd overtaxed his already frail body.

-"I'm sorry. I keep worrying you, Bellie Senior."

Even after returning to the Mage Tower, he'd thrown himself into work without rest. He couldn't deny it quickened his already short span.

Marcelo let out a wry chuckle.

"But what does a day or two matter?"

As a Simuard, death was closer to him than to most. He'd been familiar with it since childhood.

His earliest memory was his father's deathbed. Everyone in the family, save for young Marcelo himself, accepted it as inevitable. Even his father.

-"One day, you'll understand everything, Marcelo."

Indeed, you were right.

The Simuard curse of short life struck without regard for gender or marriage, claiming all equally. A year passed, and facing countless deaths, Marcelo came to grasp his father's last words.

Death is fair to all. It is merely a touch stingier with Simuard blood.

Yet Marcelo felt no resentment.

"Everything has its give and take……."

As you said. He'd traded lifespan for talent. With Simuard blood, he wielded immense magical prowess. Unlike his ancestors, he'd joined the Mage Tower, where he could unleash it freely.

-"Marcelo, you have the right."

The right to forgo concern for heirs. It was possible only with permission from the family matriarch, Yula Simuard.

Marcelo shrugged.

'Of course, someone must be suffering because of me.'

Once in the tower, bound by oath like all mages, he could no longer meddle in family affairs. And was the Simuard house one to inspire worry?

'So what I should worry about isn't them, but…….'

The Mage Tower.

Marcelo gazed at his tidy office, reflecting. The tower had changed as much as this room. Demon-worshipping elders masquerading as nobles had been purged. The elder mages dwindled from five to one. Yet no void lingered. Every member filled the gaps.

The roundtable where all ranks gathered was proof.

"And not only that……."

In the process, the tower recognized its public enemy: demons. Marcelo knew mages' prickly natures well, but with a common foe, even their prideful lot cooperated. The seniors who once snarled daily now held their peace—no further explanation needed.

"This too is thanks to you."

Everything stemmed from Chief Mage Lee Hoyeol. Marcelo had no worries. He would fill the vacancy perfectly.

Yes, he'd accepted it. From the moment he recognized his Simuard blood and its curse.

Death was ever in his sights. Yet he was only human.

"……No worries, but lingering regrets remain."

Magic he'd never mastered. Theories of magic unfinished. Research on the anomaly.

And above all…….

"I wanted to see you awaken, Tower Master."

Never to see the Tower Master again. That was Marcelo's regret.

But he knew resistance was futile. How futile the regrets of one whose end was set.

So he moved without deep thought. Creak—the drawer revealed the green tea bag Hoyeol had given him.

As Marcelo smiled bitterly at it—

Knock knock.

"Come in."

Bellie Senior? Not wanting to worry her, he schooled his expression.

But the door revealed an unexpected figure.

"……!"

He never met without prior arrangement. That creed made the intruder unthinkable: Chief Mage Lee Hoyeol.

"Chief? What brings you to my office?"

"Marcelo Chief."

"I'm listening."

"No, Marcelo Simuard."

"……!"

He'd never revealed his full name to the chief. An adventurer like Hoyeol couldn't know Simuard lore…… but if by chance?

Others' concerns were burden enough already. But if he knew now…….

Marcelo bowed politely.

"Forgive me. I wasn't hiding it."

But the reply was unfamiliar.

"Marcelo Simuard. I ask you."

Strictly, not an answer but a question. From one closer to death than most. Born to Simuard blood.

"Do you want to live?"

"……!"

A question never once posed to him.

…….

It was all because of this damnable pride, exhausting as it was.

I eyed the blinking quest window.

Precisely, the final objective of [Marcelo's Research]. The newly emerged goal.

Picking up Healing Senior Mage Bellie Yusia's tower exit application updated the objective. It let me grasp the situation swiftly.

I might not know the Simuards, but "short-lived" was no joke.

It cleared a lingering doubt. Even if I hadn't shouldered much, I'd shared the chief's burden. Yet Marcelo wasted away before my eyes. Not mere constitution.

'But noticing just from that would be the real oddity.'

Now knowing…… I felt like a total bastard……!

Not content with the Crack of the Broken Dimension, I'd dragged the doomed man through the Demon King's Castle rift too.

And now this line.

"Do you want to live?"

Who blurts that out of nowhere, really.

But it was unavoidable. The heavy pride in my chest demanded it.

The Simuard curse of short life. Seeing Bellie's exit purpose.

Another blinking quest.

The Simuard commission. The "success" on "Visit Simuard Manor" wasn't mine. I didn't even know the family.

But I knew Akkshan's commission structure.

'The demon hunter on it perished.'

In Akkshan's day, if one fell mid-commission, another took it up. Akkshan was annihilated, leaving me the sole survivor.

'A forgotten commission resurfaced…….'

Because I learned Simuard's secret.

From Lee Hoyeol's view, no dilemma.

Carry on Marcelo's legacy? Who, me?! Absurd.

I lack the ability and will! I want chief privileges as co-researcher, not the seat. Half the duties alone would kill me. Next it'd be me keeling over from overwork……!

The rest was trouble too. With demons as the tower's archfoe, a chief vacancy now? The future was obvious.

So no matter how I sliced it.

─Meet Countess Simuard. (In Progress)

The [Simuard Family Commission], Akkshan's quest dumped on me, was the righteous path.

And as an "Akkshan" quest.

'High chance the curse ties to demons.'

No dilemma.

But damn pride meddled. It wanted Marcelo's answer from his lips. Others' pride mattered as much as mine.

If Marcelo's pride accepted the curse as his end.

I'd have to carry his legacy silently.

'The man's own view? Irrelevant. I get it.'

Yet "Do you want to live?" What a line! Hope it didn't offend.

Watching his silence…… Marcelo's lips curved up.

"Do you know, sir?"

"What?"

"It's the first time I've heard such a question."

Marcelo's mouth twisted. Half laugh, half scoff.

"Simuard. Our curse is continent-wide knowledge. Some envied my talent despite it, others pitied me……."

No need to look far. Some seniors felt that way.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Marcelo finally burst out laughing.

"Haha, sorry. Truly novel."

……Novel enough to laugh. This chat's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠derailing.

All because of this loose tongue……!

"So I pondered, if only briefly."

……Hold up. I suppressed the urge to smack my mouth at Marcelo's words.

His gaze swept the tidy office.

"No regrets. I know my vessel. Without the bloodline…… I'd never have reached this height. Traded life for talent. Thus, witnessed this view from this seat."

Marcelo smiled wryly.

"……So I shouldn't have regrets."

Grip.

"Hearing your question, I thought unbidden."

Marcelo clenched his fist.

"……I want to live."

Of course, I can't know Marcelo's regrets. How he'd lived his doomed life as Simuard blood.

But it's enough.

"I understand, Marcelo."

"……?"

"Rest as Bellie Senior bids."

Yes. I didn't seek tragic tales. Just those words: I want to live.

The quest blinked.

From "In Progress" to "On Hold." If changing, why not failure? I'd die before pursuing it.

I eyed bewildered Marcelo. Precisely, his fist.

'Always mouthing off, huh? Now I spot it easy.'

Green tea bag in his grip. Dry leaves scattered on the floor from the squeeze.

I said calmly.

"If ever needed, come to my office."

"……!"

"Time slows when enjoying tea."

…….

The Simuards were naturally on the Arcana Continent. No cataclysm like Demon King's Castle or Tepperun Labyrinth, so no regular update spawn.

The question arose inevitably. How to reach them?

No current way from reality to Arcana. But I remembered.

The scene in the Crack of the Broken Dimension.

A colossal demon, name unknown. It shattered the rift, emerged, then fled at my [Anomaly] back to Arcana.

That realization: Rifts blend reality and Arcana halfway. If reality connects to rifts, so must Arcana.

I don't know how from rift to Arcana. But one option beckons: demon spoils.

Yes. That's why I could boast.

Some might ask: Isn't Arcana demon-infested? Survivable? Return possible?

"It is possible."

With my usual bravado. Status window at the ready.