Chapter 41

# 41

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Nabia narrowed her eyes as she gazed at the empty space where Lark had been.

'What exactly is Duke Esselred's ability?'

He is definitely a mage, but the Black Moon didn’t react, and yet he used both explosion magic and spatial teleportation magic.

The force that lifted me seems to be telekinesis.

"Ha..."

Her head became complicated.

'At least he accepted me.'

Although there was a condition of one year, she received permission to stay here.

Even if she wasn’t officially adopted as a foster daughter, the fact that she could stay here was advantageous for Nabia.

'Fortunately.'

Nabia felt as exhausted and tired as if she had just unleashed a torrent of curses.

As her energy drained, the pain from the wound that Theo had reopened earlier came flooding back.

'Theo, that man isn’t the type to back down easily.'

Still, from the situation earlier, it seemed that Lark was holding back for some reason, and Theo couldn’t rashly attack.

'He probably won’t use poison recklessly, so he might try to drag me outside.'

In any case, she was in a relatively safe situation now.

'I should ask Duke Esselred to confirm the mage’s contract based on the situation.'

Now, all she had to do was wait.

'The royal family will have to make a clear decision about my disposition.'

If Nikan believed she was still useful, he wouldn’t send an assassin to silence her.

At that moment, she felt a sharp gaze from the side.

When Nabia turned her head, she saw a woman with mint-colored hair tied in a single braid and large glasses.

"Ah!"

The woman jumped in surprise and even dropped the bag she was holding.

The contents looked like medical tools.

Given her white coat, she was likely a doctor.

Still, Nabia raised her voice a bit.

"Are you okay?"

Nabia approached to pick up the dropped bag.

The woman quickly gathered the fallen items and nodded repeatedly.

"Yes, yes! I’m fine."

The woman greeted her with a very tense expression.

"Um, please speak more casually. I’m Minerva Hart, your personal physician."

At the mention of a personal physician, Nabia’s eyes narrowed slightly.

Even if the head of the household wasn’t sick, they usually had a personal physician.

It was common for young heads of households to simply have a doctor, but Lark seemed to need one the least.

'Perhaps he’s in pain somewhere, despite appearances, and can’t leave the mansion? That’s why he needs anesthetic herbs...'

Nabia thought that she knew even less about Lark now.

"My name is Nabia."

Then there was a moment of silence.

Minerva seemed very timid.

She kept checking Nabia’s reactions, who was just a child, and couldn’t bring herself to speak.

Finally, Nabia spoke first.

"Are you going to examine me?"

"Ah, yes!"

"Then I’ll lie down on the bed."

Minerva looked at Nabia in amazement, who seemed to know exactly what she wanted without her saying a word.

They entered the bedroom.

As Nabia lay on the bed, Minerva checked her state of consciousness and re-examined her wounds.

"Was it you who treated me?"

Minerva, who was suddenly asked a question, shuddered and answered in a very subdued voice, checking Nabia’s reaction.

"Yes, yes..."

Why did she ask? Did she not like the treatment? Was she going to scold her...?

"Thank you."

"…What?"

Nabia looked down at her hands.

The wounds that were in a terrible state in the carriage had all been meticulously treated.

She felt warmth in the treatment.

"I’ve never seen someone treat me so kindly. So, thank you."

"Ah..."

Minerva’s face flushed red at the unexpected praise and gratitude.

'Wow. I got praised.'

"Ah, no... It’s my duty."

Doctors usually cared more about profit and found it bothersome to treat children who wouldn’t benefit them.

Just by considering this, Minerva was already the kindest doctor in Nabia’s life.

Nabia smiled slightly.

"Please take good care of me from now on."

"…!"

Minerva bowed deeply and began to pack her medical bag.

"The treatment is finished...! Then, I’ll leave now!"

"Ah, okay. Thank you."

Hearing another "thank you," Minerva bowed with a red face and hurried out.

'She’s really shy.'

Nabia blinked and then sighed deeply, burying herself in the bed.

"I’m hungry."

Should she go out to look for food this time?

Nabia endured her hunger but couldn’t resist the overwhelming drowsiness and closed her eyes.

* * *

Nabia’s room was on the second floor.

It was natural for guests to stay on the second floor.

And the space Lark had moved to was the corridor on the third floor.

The dark corridor was dimly lit by the faint light coming through the windows, quietly illuminating the black floor.

There was no one on the third floor.

Not only people, but even the golden candles that should have filled the walls and ceiling were absent.

Only darkness and silence filled the space.

"Schleman."

Then, out of nowhere, an old gentleman with white hair appeared.

He was Baron Schleman Jeneger, Lark’s advisor. Although it was a title without a fief, it was rare for a baron to voluntarily take on the role of a secretary for a duke who wasn’t royalty.

But Schleman had already sworn his loyalty to Lark long ago.

"Speak, my lord."

Schleman had rushed to the front door at the sudden explosion sound that pierced the silence. There, he found a girl in his lord’s arms.

The girl was covered in mud.

Her clothes were tattered, and blood was dripping from her.

Schleman expected Lark to hand over the unconscious girl indifferently and say, "Throw her away."

But Lark, after calmly looking at the girl, said,

"Keep her alive."

It was a happy thing that Lark showed interest in someone.

But the girl happened to be Nikan’s foster daughter.

Schleman had been hiding nearby and had observed everything Nabia said and did.

And the girl seemed... quite dangerous.

'Even if we ignore the fact that she’s Nikan’s foster daughter, there are many suspicious aspects about her. It’s not good to keep such a child in this house.'

A dam is not broken by a powerful natural disaster but by a small crack.

Schleman thought Nabia was that small crack that could bring down this place.

Lark said,

"Do as the brat said."

"…My lord, it would be better to send her back with Wood Agnes. Nikan must have made some arrangements for her, right?"

For example, brainwashing.

However, even if that assumption were true, Lark didn’t care.

"I already said she can stay for a year. Are you planning to make me retract my words?"

Schleman had no choice but to bow when Lark said that.

"I will follow your orders."

Then he left the third floor to carry out the command.

Silence returned.

Lark slowly walked to his room.

He could have used magic to instantly teleport to his bedroom from the third floor, but he didn’t bother.

Time was meaningless to him anyway.

He had no need to hurry.

The rustling of his clothes was the only sound that broke the silence.

His face was shrouded in deep shadows, making him look like he was wearing a half-black mask.

He looked like the master of a place that lacked warmth.

Lark suddenly looked out the window.

'There was never any snow on this day.'

His expressionless gaze returned to the pitch-black corridor.

The bleak scenery might make someone feel goosebumps.

Was it inevitable? This mansion was a giant coffin.

A coffin in which an immortal lived.

Lark was an "infinite regenerator."

#07.

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The Failed Chess Piece