[Duke Orian's POV]
This child, lying upon the bed… looked far too peaceful for someone on the brink of death.
After the incident in the library, the Duke had immediately summoned mages from the Tower, along with the most capable healers within his reach. This was no trivial matter one that could be entrusted to mere apprentices.
And yet…
He could not explain it.
Something within him urged him to know more about this dying child.
[In the Duke's Study]
"Your Grace… the Tower Mage's arrival will be delayed—perhaps weeks, even a month due to the worsening weather," the butler reported. "I regret to inform you, as well, that the winter is becoming rather strong… and the grant (Reward: such as money, place, land or title but here its money a big sum at that) from the Imperial Family has yet to be received... they ask your grace to bestow them to the palace in person."
The Duke's gaze darkened.
"Those fools are no better than beasts," he said coldly. "Send word if the full grant is not yet to be delivered before this winter loosens its grip… they should prepare for the next war."
"Y-Your Grace…"
The butler faltered, a hint of panic in his voice. Yet he knew better than to question the Duke's authority. Every servant in the duchy understood his decisions were never made lightly.
"…It shall be done, Your Grace."
And with that, he withdrew to carry out the order.
Only two remained in the chamber
Ruvan, the honorable Knight, 1 of the 4 main shadows following the Duke… and the Duke himself.
"Ruvan."
"Yes, Your Grace."
"I trust you are well aware."
"…I am."
Yet his expression betrayed him—unease, questions left unspoken. The same unrest lingered in the Duke's own mind.
"The young lady's outburst…" Ruvan began slowly, "it felt no different from what I experienced upon the battlefield. I cannot say with certainty, Your Grace—but there is a possibility… that the surge of energy we encountered in that war… is somehow connected to her."
"…"
The Duke fell silent, deep in thought.
A mere child ... with unstable core, wavering yet capable of releasing something strange that's incomprehensible.
And more than that
There was something eerily familiar about it all.
…
[Back to Astra]
'Ahh…'
'My head…'
Carefully, I forced my eyes open.
The room was quiet. Empty.
Still lying on the bed, I gathered what little strength I had and pushed myself upright. That was when I noticed it
A strange symbol, etched faintly across my hand.
'…What is this?'
Suddenly—
The door burst open.
"The little lady is awake!!"
A young maid with pigtails rushed in, her voice ringing through the halls. Before I could even react, several others followed physicians, attendants… and Sir Hale, the mage from before.
"Milady, are you experiencing shortness of breath?"
"How do you feel, child?"
"The core appears stable—for now."
They crowded around me young and old alike probing, examining, speaking over one another.
'WHAT IS GOING ON?!'
My gaze snapped toward Sir Hale. He met my eyes… and seemed to grasp the gravity of the situation.
"Enough," he said calmly. "Let us proceed slowly. I would very much prefer that none of us lose our heads today."
At once, the room fell silent.
A trace of unease no, fear settled among them.
"Milady," Sir Hale continued, "it has been two weeks since your… outburst."
'T-THAT LONG?!'
"Ahh—"
I tried to speak, but my throat burned. My voice refused to come.
"Please, do not force yourself," he added. "This is a side effect of severe mana depletion. Your core has been left… hanging by a thread."
He gave a light, almost joking chuckle.
"So, I would strongly advise against attempting 'something' like that for a while. For the sake of the many intelligent heads present."
…
'What exactly are they implying…?'
I scanned the room.
Some avoided my gaze altogether.
'…It was understandable considering my eyes is practically unusual, I will deal with this matter separately for...now-'
I glanced carefully of my arms 'Did I mistook it. I am sure strange symbols appeared in my very arms' I rubbed my eyes and clearly saw nothing in my arms...
The butler from before stepped forward.
"With all due respect, I suggest we allow the young lady time to recover."
One by one, they began to withdraw
Then
The Duke entered.
"If you value the head upon your shoulders," he said, his voice cold and straightforward, "leave. And do not let your curiosity overstep its bounds."
No one lingered.
In an instant, the room emptied
Even Sir Hale slipped out without a word.
Only the butler… and the Duke remained.
"Gremlin."
'Gremlin…? Who is this old man addressing?'
I shot him an irritated look.
He noticed.
"So—you understand me," he mused. "Good."
He stepped closer, scrutinizing me as though I were some peculiar artifact.
'What am I, a painting?'
Annoyed, I shoved his face away weakly, given my condition.
Still, it was enough.
"Can you write?" he asked.
At his signal, the butler placed paper and pen before me.
I nodded.
'Thankfully… this body still remembers how. Even if the language feels foreign… I somehow understand it.
…Well, I suppose this isn't truly my body to begin with.'
Even so, writing proved difficult. My hand trembled, weak and unsteady.
Instead, I scribbled a crude mark
[?]
"Hmm. A question mark?" he said, unimpressed. "Sloppy."
I scowled and added another mark beside it—
[?!]
He smirked.
'If I had even half my strength, I'd knock that smug expression off his face someday.'
"Very well," he said. "Let us begin simply."
"What is your name?"
'…Oh.'
That, at least, was easy.
[Astra]
Even I could tell—my handwriting was a mess.
"Hmm… I see." He nodded, far too confidently. "Azter."
My eye twitched.
I shook my head vigorously.
"Hm? Then… Aztre?"
'…This man is utterly hopeless.'
"Let us keep Gremlin for now."
'I suppose… that will do.'
…sigh…
…
'Oh—right.'
I scribbled quickly onto the paper.
"Hmm?"
[ Favor —> a drawing of a mask ]
"A mask…" he murmured, studying it. "Very well. I shall have one prepared. For now, however, I would prefer to hear your answers directly—if you are capable of speech after."
At his command, a servant was immediately dispatched.
My face brightened.
'At least he understood that.'
He noticed my reaction… and for a fleeting moment, he seemed to exhale in quiet relief.
(He was examining Astra's health and condition)
'…I truly don't understand this old man at all.'
Meanwhile, the butler leaned closer to the Duke, speaking in hushed tones.
"Your Grace… the food shortage worsens—and the monsters along the borders—"
Their voices dropped too low to follow clearly, but one phrase rang sharply in my ears.
'Food shortage.'
My eyes sharpened.
'Heh… so this is how it begins.'
'Operation: Live, Life, Love.'
'I think I already know exactly how to handle this.'
But… that would have to wait.
For now, I needed rest.
I would bring forth my solutions tomorrow.
My eyelids grew heavy, the weight of exhaustion pulling me under. I hadn't even noticed when it began—but this body… was still that of a child.
Weak. Fragile. Limiting.
'…Pathetic.'
The Duke glanced toward the little lady—
And, ever so faintly, he chuckled.
A sound so rare… only the butler bore witness to it.
[Butler's Thoughts]
After so long… to see such an expression grace your face once more…
Those five years spent upon the battlefield burying memories, denying what you endured… it must have been a lonely burden, Your Grace.
May this young lady… become your light once again.
"Dell."
"Yes, Your Grace."
"Have Natasha attend to the child for the time being. And see that she is provided with garments befitting her age."
A brief pause.
"Prepare the council chamber. We convene tomorrow—there are matters within the duchy that demand resolution."
"As you command, Your Grace."