Chapter: 203
Returning to work at the school was not approved, but since she could not stop managing the orphanage, Elizaveta had no choice but to reluctantly grant Ivan’s leave.
“Don’t you think this is unreasonable?”
“Your Majesty. The internal minister’s approval documentation has been submitted.”
“That’s enough, stop bringing it! Stop!!”
The main reason was the tasks that had been postponed for so long. Essentially, Elizaveta was not idle. Dictatorial power meant having monopolistic authority over all state affairs, and her absence was causing paralysis in the administration.
Thus, during the three weeks she dedicated to Ivan’s care, all operations of the Frechenkaya Central Government had virtually come to a halt. Now, she was paying the price.
“Ugh… Ivan… I miss you….”
“It has not even been an hour since Lord Yeremov went on his leave, Your Majesty.”
“Have you not gotten married? Why can’t you understand my feelings?”
“Since both my legs were amputated, I find it easier to work rather than be a burden at home.”
Elizaveta ignored Dmitri’s words and sighed deeply again.
Has it been only an hour? Since he said he would return by night, that means she would have to spend at least ten or more hours like this.
If he were beside her, it would be an even bigger problem since she could not focus on work. She had great self-control, but even the strongest dam can burst.
The self-control she had maintained for over a decade was now fading away in just a few days.
When Ivan is not in view, she worries about what he is doing, whether he’s eating something, and if he might return half-dead.
When Ivan is in sight, then she wants to do ‘even more enjoyable’ things, and her work ends up being neglected. To be honest, this might be more important than state affairs.
“How much more time has passed?”
“Three minutes have passed, Your Majesty. Honestly, it’s a bit serious.”
“Is that how it appears to you?”
Elizaveta passed the report over gloomily.
And the moment her eyes took in the text, the iron-fisted ruler began to oversee state affairs once again. She shut her lips and started flipping through the pages, getting back to work.
EP 33. Between Times.
“Ha, fine, whatever!!”
Isabelle bit her teeth in frustration as she strode confidently through the familiar hallways.
The voices of her peers greeting her from everywhere did not reach her ears. The lively Isabelle who always warmly greeted others was gone. That person died fifteen days ago.
Now she had been reborn as Dark-Isabelle. Like Anakin Skywalker and Skullgreymon prove, dark evolution always guarantees an unconditioned performance upgrade.
“Did you do this first? Ha!!”
Even in the classroom…
“If this is how it’s going to be, then I’m going all out too!!”
Even while eating lunch…
“Honestly, what’s wrong with me? I’m young, pretty, talented, and fun. There’s nothing lacking!”
On her way home, her anger gradually grew. She couldn’t even gauge how the day had passed. It was already evening as she remained wide awake fuming.
Isabelle prepared dinner alone again that day. As she arranged the demonic specialty dish that had become tiresome, she slammed the cutting board with her knife.
“Honestly? Can’t you be a bit more discerning? An honorable person, perhaps? Huh? Don’t you think so?”
“I… uh, um. Yeah. I agree.”
“So what should we do then?”
“Calm down Isabelle?”
“No! You’re from Tylesse, aren’t you?!”
Dragged into dinner was Oscar, who could only nod quietly before Isabelle’s fury.
“Right?”
“What’s Tylesse’s most known trait?”
“Justice?”
“…?”
What kind of place does Oscar envision Tylesse to be?
Isabelle quickly suppressed herself before pondering. A Jedi who has fallen to the dark side and a space marine who has fallen to the imaterium never reflect.
“Adultery!”
“…?”
What kind of place does Isabelle imagine Tylesse to be?
The answer is ‘normal Tylesse.’ Strictly speaking, adultery in Tylesse is nearly an archaic term. The entirety of love affairs with someone who has a spouse (whether the opposite or the same sex) is typically referred to as ‘forbidden love.’
Oscar stared blankly at Isabelle as she ferociously disassembled the kimchi. The bright red seasoning stained her apron, making it seem as though she was disassembling a demon.
“What kind of naïve talk is this? How can we even talk about such things with what we experienced in Tylesse?”
“I’ve never been to salons… so….”
Both outsiders to Tylesse, Oscar (the Lord Protector’s son, not invited to social circles) and Isabelle (the daughter of a hero, unable to join due to her commoner status) fell into a brief glum.
“Do you really think I wouldn’t know? Remember when we were twelve? The royal tournament.”
“I remember.”
“Do you recall how the participants would all receive handkerchiefs swearing their allegiance to their ladies?”
“Exactly?”
In Tylesse’s traditional tournament culture, that was commonplace. Bringing the name and honor of the lady they served to their lips, ladies would bestow flowers and handkerchiefs to knights to wish them luck.
Isabelle ominously spoke as she ripped a section of kimchi apart and added it to the stew.
“All of that is adultery. The knights who compete have families, and those ladies are all taken as well.”
“…Oh.”
What a refreshing perspective.
Oscar quietly admired.
“Normally, people from Tylesse are more sincere when aiming for someone who’s already married.”
Such a nation should meet its end. (Indeed, Tylesse almost did perish.)
“So, what do you want to say?”
“We need to create some external activities aimed at the long-term goals of the Hero Party.”
“What about classes?”
“Are we going to stress out over classes when we took a whole semester off? Every experience in life is a class!”
Speaking about something specific to certain professions, Isabelle turned her body toward Oswald.
Whether it was the bits of kimchi on her apron, the red substance dripping from the cutting knife, or the crazed look on Isabelle’s face, Oscar found himself unintentionally taking a few steps back.
“Will you help?”
“I… I want to attend class.”
“Will you help me then?”
“Guess I have no choice.”
The Hero Party typically moves according to the hero’s code of conduct.
The knights of Tylesse do not yield to fear, so Oscar was not agreeing due to terror.
When attempting to seduce someone already in a relationship, those from Tylesse become three times stronger than usual. This is a historically proven axiom, so Isabelle currently would be considered at least three times stronger than Oscar.
Oscar knelt before the unwavering logic of this powerful force.
Traditionally, Drovian adheres to a monogamous culture. If one strays, they either divorce or die. In truth, these two mean the same thing since an obvious fault leading to divorce results in a duel (a life-or-death duel).
Among Drovian’s age-old proverbs, there is a saying: Beware of women, children, and the elderly. In reality, one must be careful even with strong adult men, indicating that all Drovian citizens belong to the warrior class.
Since dying during a duel allows a person to go to heaven, Drovian women often acquire weapon skills. After all, they would want to reach heaven someday.
Thus, Ecdysis was deep in thought while polishing the pounding stick (6 months, baton).
“Can I defeat the Queen?”
“Ecdysis…?”
“Is the probability fifty-fifty… about that much?”
“Where did you come up with that calculation…?”
“All duels either result in victory or defeat. There are just those two outcomes. So the probability is fifty-fifty.”
“That’s reasonable…?”
The Music Department does not teach mathematics.
Yuri nodded in admiration of this astonishing conclusion. (The illustrator is not skilled in mathematics.)
“Let’s fight first, and repent later.”
“Ecdysis, calm down. It’s… technically a crime.”
“Challenging a Jedi is legal though?”
“I am not well-versed in Drovian laws….”
“Foreigners should respect the relativity of cultures.”
Is that the right time to use that expression? Yuri felt somewhat flustered but had no choice but to agree since the Koreans are particularly sensitive about cultural relativity.
Beside them, Eugene chuckled and rubbed his hands like a sly character. With nothing to do while waiting for the Saint to prepare her plans, he needed to relieve his growing stress.
“There’s a folktale from Krasilov. Hehe. Have you heard of Romeo and Juliet?”
“…?!”
Yuri gasped and looked at Eugene in shock. Undeterred by her gaze, Eugene continued speaking.
“It’s a story about a man and woman in love against society’s culture and laws.”
“Oh, okay, and?”
“Without going into details, they ended up committing suicide.”
“…What are you getting at?”
“Just wait. According to legend, they were only around sixteen or fourteen years old.”
“So?”
“What do you think they understood about love? Why would kids like that consider suicide?”
“What do you mean?”
Ecdysis’s expression turned cold as Eugene smirked slyly.
“I told you not to.”
“…!”
“When you say not to, it makes you want to do it even more. Society? Law? Tradition? Morality? The more they stand in the way, the more true love blazes. Are you in a fake love?”
“…!!”
“Must… prove it, right?”
“Eugene!! Are you out of your mind?!”
“…Should we send the duel venue to the Royal Palace?”
“That’s not it. Do you think defeating His Majesty will suddenly make an uninterested brother eager in the FA market? Think carefully. There are better methods.”
Though the words were incomprehensible, Ecdysis began to get more engrossed in what he said.
According to ancient texts from Earth, priests who lose their divine powers can switch to dark priests. At this point, since all priests have lost their divine powers, every priest in the world is effectively given the opportunity to transcend into dark priests.
Originally, the more a clergyman falls, the more cunning their tongue becomes. Thus, Eugene started to whisper to Ecdysis with a devilish tongue.
“We need to seize it.”
“…!!”
“By any means necessary, do everything possible to achieve that. Proving it with all your strength… isn’t that true love?”
“That’s valid…!”
Drovian’s old laws strictly prohibit a spouse’s adultery. This means that once you get married, you can prevent infidelity.
Regardless of how it happens, as long as one can get married, they can monopolize. The victim’s will doesn’t matter at all.
Ecdysis hung her head. Her soft hair cascaded over her face like a curtain. Beneath it, a chilling voice resonated.
“The end justifies the means….”
Ignoring social norms and international law, she decided to proceed with raiding marriage, yet ironically, she would have to follow the Drovian laws after the marriage; this is not a contradiction. Drovian law pertains to ethics rather than human territory. Like the reasoning for not codifying ethics, Drovian’s first daughter raised the pounding stick.
At that moment, Elpheira trembled with tears in her eyes, her extravagant golden hair swaying as she stammered.
“Something that big won’t fit…!”
“It can.”
“I- I don’t want to….”
“This is something your father asked for.”
“That’s a lie!! My father would never— Ugh…!!”
“Set your teeth.”
Elpheira sniffled and struggled to move her jaw. A dreadful taste spread throughout her mouth like sand amidst the thick, gritty texture.
Chewing on the nutritional bar, Elpheira looked up at Ivan with a face that seemed ready to vomit.
“I expected it, but how many days have you been starving?”
“Ugh… Ugh… Uhh… T-ten days….”
“Did you only use magic for calories? Elpheira, a human body cannot maintain its function with just calories. If essential nutrients are lacking, various deficiency symptoms will inevitably follow.”
Symptoms like scurvy and night blindness can occur due to vitamin deficiencies. A lack of sodium and iron can lead to anemia and dizziness.
Fortunately, elves are akin to trees, so their caloric consumption during non-combat situations isn’t drastically high, but maintaining physical conditions is a significant matter.
At Ivan’s words, Elpheira managed to swallow the nutritional bar and shouted.
“Even so, I can’t eat this for the rest of my life!”
“The curse won’t last that long. Not for a lifetime.”
“Do you think I would eat this without you around?”
“You have to. To live.”
“Then you have to take care of me every time.”
At Elpheira’s words, Ivan sighed. Considering Belogrin’s request, it was not something he could refuse.
Observing his expression, Elpheira soon grinned but returned to a sulky expression as their eyes met.
Quickly, she swished water around her mouth and opened her lips.
“F-feed me again.”
“You do it yourself.”
“I’ll throw it away. It’s like cheap gum that even Count Montblanc wouldn’t eat…. Come on, hurry up. Ah—.”
“Belogrin has spoiled his daughter too much.”
“Well then, go complain to my dad or something.”
Elves are a long-lived race, and they generally feel lighter sadness over the death and separation of loved ones. Even so, isn’t this reaction too incomprehensible?
It had been just over a month since Belogrin had passed.
Yet Ivan gazed into Elpheira’s eyes and sighed again.
“Alright.”
In a state of cursed gluttony that had rendered her sense of taste dull, she had gone over ten days without eating anything except water, leaving her face parched.
Underneath it lay anxiety, grief, and impatience manifesting.
She tried hard to appear strong, but how could he not know? He had seen that expression many times in the orphanage.
The expression of children without a place to lean. A facade of cheerfulness hiding traces of their unavoidable anguish.
Especially ones who lost their parents, their support systems, and their countries. Considering the situation in Kalion, she was just another noble without a backer relying on foreign aid.
