Chapter 48

It was the fifth day of my visit to Eme's village. Before I knew it, half of the sudden leave I had taken was already over.

Today, I had come to my master's place early in the morning. The day after I returned, I had given my master the powdered monster horn, and I was curious if there had been any progress.

"Master, good morning."

"Oh, Laura. Good morning. You're up early."

My master's face, though slightly, bore the marks of fatigue. She must have stayed up late, engrossed in the concoction. Suppressing my excitement, I asked her,

"Um... about the monster horn I gave you the other day, what do you think of it?"

I couldn't come up with a better way to phrase my question, so it ended up being quite abstract. However, my master seemed to understand my intent and shook her head gently.

"It's hard to say. I tried a few concoctions... but..."

She trailed off and handed me a notebook. It was the one where I had jotted down the concoction methods. When I opened it, several new concoction methods were written inside.

"The main effect is to enhance potency, but the material has a habit of choosing herbs that go well with it. It works very well with simple healing herbs, but it seems to be incompatible with herbs that cure paralysis or poison."

I nodded as I read the notebook, understanding that indeed, the potency enhancement worked best when mixed with simple healing herbs.

I looked up at my master, and without a word, she seemed to understand what I wanted to know, her face showing a wry smile.

"It's still unclear whether this horn can be a special medicine for the self-destruction disease."

The tension in my body suddenly eased.

The fatigue that comes from having one's hopes dashed is overwhelming. Although it wasn't decided yet, I had certainly had some expectations, and the disappointment of those expectations not being met was significant.

The only other hope was the spirit's drinking water. To give myself some peace of mind, I wanted to increase my options, but—

Suddenly, my gaze fell on the door at the back. Beyond it was my master's study, a place I rarely entered. The walls were lined with bookshelves, and each shelf was packed with countless documents.

Even the smallest hint would be helpful. With that thought, I asked my master,

"Master, can I see your study?"

"Of course, go ahead."

After getting a clear answer, I opened the door to the study. To be honest, I had only entered my master's study a handful of times.

My master always chose the appropriate documents for me to read, and I had never been given the task of searching for a specific document. At most, I had entered to fetch a document from the desk when my master was too busy to do so.

I traced the spines of the books one by one. As expected, they were mostly about herbs. Occasionally, there were documents about monsters—

I wondered if I should go through each book, cover to cover, but just as that thought crossed my mind—

"Whoa!"

Thud, thud, thud.

A pile of books next to me toppled over, sending dust flying. Pinching my nose, I waved my hands in front of my face and looked around to see where they had fallen from. I noticed a gap on a nearby bookshelf.

"Oh... I did it again."

I muttered, looking at the gap. I hadn't intended to knock the bookshelf, but perhaps the books were stacked too loosely.

"Laura? What's going on?"

"The books fell from above, I'm sorry! I'll fix them!"

My master's voice, raised in concern, reached me. I responded in a louder voice than usual, and she seemed to understand, as she fell silent.

I sighed deeply and started to clean up. The books, having been on the shelf, were much dustier than the others. I hesitated to leave the dust on them after handling them, so I gently brushed them off before stacking them.

Judging from the covers, these books seemed to be ones my master collected as a hobby. They were not about herbs but resembled novels from my previous life.

Feeling a bit guilty about prying into her private life, I didn't open them, but from the titles, it seemed they ranged from adventure tales to love stories. Among the fallen books, I noticed a wooden box.

(Hmm, a notebook...?)

It was either a notebook or a diary. The cover was blank.

It had been inside a locked wooden box. I assumed it was something my master didn't want others to see, so I tried to put it back in the box—when suddenly,

"Ah..."

A piece of paper slipped out from between the pages. I picked it up quickly. It was a blank sheet.

Why a blank sheet, I wondered, and flipped it over—only to realize it was a drawing.

It appeared to be a family portrait. In the center was a woman holding a baby. She looked to be in her early forties, with narrow red eyes and wrinkles at the corners. Her hair color was different, but she looked like—

(Master...?)

I recognized my master, Berta.

I stood up with the wooden box, notebook, and portrait. Placing them on a nearby desk, I sat down.

Next to the woman who looked like my master was a younger woman, smiling with large golden eyes. She was holding a small child, about four or five years old.

Comparing the two women, they had similar facial features, though their eye colors were different. They might be mother and daughter. If so, the baby and child they were holding could be the older woman's grandchildren.

Looking to the side, I felt a sense of unease. Perhaps this wasn't a family portrait. The man standing next to them had pointed ears—he was an elf.

Maybe the younger woman and the elf man were in an interracial marriage. However, interracial marriages between elves and humans were rare, and the baby the woman was holding didn't have pointed ears. Moreover, in front of the man stood a girl with a shy smile, also with pointed ears, suggesting she might be related to them.

The elf couple (assuming they were a couple) had different facial features, but their eye and hair colors were perfectly inherited. Red eyes and light green hair—

Suddenly, a familiar face overlapped with the girl's in the portrait.

(Mercedes...?)

Yes, the shy girl looked a lot like Mercedes.

Assuming the woman in the center was my master, this portrait must be from 20 to 30 years ago. Mercedes is still beautiful and youthful, but as an elf, she could easily be over 40. Mercedes is my master's apprentice. It wouldn't be strange for a young master and a young Mercedes to be depicted together in a portrait.

Why it was tucked in an old notebook was a mystery, but I thought this portrait might show them as they were before I was born.

(The woman in the center is Master, and the woman next to her is Master's daughter. The baby and child they are holding are Master's grandchildren. The man standing next to Master is Mercedes' father, and the girl in front of him is young Mercedes.)

That was the only conclusion I could draw.

Perhaps this was an important picture. I took a step to show it to my master, but then I wondered what the notebook it was tucked in was.

My fingers hesitated to open it, as my conscience told me it was wrong to snoop through someone else's belongings. I decided not to and tried to put it back in the box—but my fingers trembled, and the notebook slipped from my hand.

It spun in the air and landed on the ground, a page open.

I quickly bent down to pick it up. As I did, my eyes caught the words on the open page.

Day 1009. Finally, the fingertips are burned—

The scratch on the throat—has worsened.

The special medicine I took the other day—showed no effect.

Tomorrow, I plan to go—monster hunting with—Bass.

Self-destruction—has destroyed—my beloved grandchild's—daily life.

The notebook seemed quite old, and the words were faded, making it hard to read. However, from the fragmented words, my brain pieced together a possibility.

Perhaps this notebook contained the progress of a self-destruction disease patient.

I reflexively closed the page. My heart was pounding.

I looked at the portrait I still held in my right hand. The woman in the center, smiling, looked a lot like my master. My gaze was drawn to the child she held in her arms.

(It said 'grandchild.' Could it be... No, but this portrait and the notebook might not be Master's. But if they are, did Master lose her grandchild to the self-destruction disease?)

My thoughts were in chaos. I couldn't think clearly.

The portrait of the woman who looked like my master, the notebook that seemed to contain the progress of a self-destruction disease patient, why the portrait was tucked in the notebook, and why these items were hidden away in the study—

"Laura?"

Suddenly, my name was called from the entrance.

I quickly hid the portrait and notebook behind my back and turned around.

"Master, what is it?"

"You said the books fell. I thought I'd help."

As my master took a step towards me, my body tensed. For some reason, even without any evidence, my instincts told me not to show her the portrait and notebook.

I forced a smile and raised my voice to stop her.

"Ah, no, it's fine! The books are heavy, and you might hurt your back! I'll take care of it!"

I laughed, and my master, noticing my unusual behavior, looked at me with a puzzled expression but turned around, saying, "Alright."

Once the study door was closed, I took a deep breath. I looked at the portrait and notebook I had hidden behind my back and wondered what to do.

Should I pretend I hadn't seen them and put them back? Should I ask Master for permission to take them? Or should I take them without saying anything?

The best option would be to ask Master for permission, but for some reason, I had a strong feeling that she didn't want me to know about these items.

They were in a locked wooden box. Even if the lock broke by accident, my actions afterward were like prying into someone's past—Master's past, or perhaps someone else's. If she found out, she might be angry.

"Master, can I borrow these...?"

I whispered the request, but I couldn't picture her face saying, "Go ahead." Instead, I imagined her snatching them from me in a rage.

I put them in my pocket, planning to find the right moment to ask for permission.

When the study was cleaned up. When we had a leisurely tea. When I left the mountain cabin. There were plenty of opportunities, but in the end, I couldn't bring myself to say anything to Master and took the portrait and notebook home with me.