Chapter 27: A Diving Hero

Felix and Ilya, who had both been unable to leave the office until late at night, looked considerably exhausted the next day. While Felix managed to hide it well, Ilya—who was close to an ordinary person with almost no mana to bolster his stamina—looked so haggard it was pitiable.

Explaining that he hadn’t even made it home and had spent the night in the imperial quarters, Ilya pressed his thumbs into his dry, weary eyelids. In his hand, a mug brimmed with dark, sloshing coffee.

“Ilya, you didn’t have to come if you’re that tired.”

I felt a prick of guilt since I had been lounging around after breakfast. It didn’t help that Ilya had insisted I stay down, gently pushing me back when I tried to sit up, so I was currently talking to him while lying in bed.

“Not at all. When else would I get the chance to greet you in the morning? Since I didn’t have to spend time commuting, I actually feel more relaxed.”

Ilya pulled a chair to the bedside as usual. In his other hand was a bundle of paper—a newspaper wrapped in thin, cream-colored packaging.

That’s it! A good idea struck me the moment I saw it. As long as it wasn’t a difficult article about politics or economics, I should be able to read a fair amount of it. Things like what was happening in the Empire, stories from outside the palace—simple, everyday things.

Ilya, who had been sipping his coffee and reading, noticed my gaze and immediately folded the paper in half, setting it on the table.

“My apologies, I was being rude.”

No, that’s not it! I shouted internally while keeping my outward expression calm.

“No, I was just curious.”

“Ah, would you like to take a look yourself?”

Ilya, knowing I still harbored a fear of text, asked cautiously. Of course, since it was a newspaper, it was a bit daunting. I wondered how much I’d actually recognize. I’d be happy if I could understand even a fifth of it.

I set down the small mana sphere I’d been fiddling with and took the paper.

“From here to here are cultural stories. This section is for advertisements. The back page is—”

I listened intently as Ilya pointed and explained. As expected, the newspaper was filled with words I didn’t know.

“Ilya, could you perhaps save just this part for me later?”

I pointed to a section that caught my eye. The sub-headline indicated an article about how, one year after the long war with the Demon King, animals that had been protected by the Empire were being released back into nature. The only things I could read quickly and understand immediately were fragmentary terms related to magic; I was still clumsy with basic grammar and particles. The article wasn’t difficult, but it mentioned many animals with unusual names I’d never seen before, which piqued my interest.

“I can give it to you right now. It’s no trouble. The office is piled high with various newspapers anyway.”

Ilya pressed down on the folds and neatly tore the section out for me. I planned to show this to Zeimer when he arrived and ask him to bring books about animals. For commoners like me, picture books were an immense luxury; even if we knew such animals existed, we often had no idea what they actually looked like.

After Ilya left, I waited for Zeimer with a bit of excitement. Unless he was at the Magic Tower or the Academy, Zeimer visited two or three times a day. Since he led a fairly disciplined life, it was almost time for him to arrive.

I picked up a quill and began circling the names of animals I didn’t know. When Zeimer walked in at his usual time, he was dressed casually as always.

“Why are you so excited?”

Seeing me welcome him more actively than usual, Zeimer asked with a broad grin.

“Zeimer, are you stopping by again today?”

“Of course.”

“Then, could you bring a book about animals when you come? Like an encyclopedia?”

Zeimer gave me a strange look.

“Later? Why bother with the trip.”

Zeimer reached into the air and made a grasping motion. Suddenly, a thick, leather-bound book appeared in his hand. He really was a genius. That memory of his—able to imprint the coordinates of every single book in the library—was nothing short of miraculous.

Handing me the book, Zeimer finally asked the reason.

“But why the sudden interest in books?”

“Ilya left this for me this morning, and I was curious.”

Zeimer scanned the single sheet of paper in my hand, grasping the entire content in a glance before looking back at me.

“So… you didn’t know about these things.”

His voice sounded slightly thick, as if he were choking back an emotion.

“Yes.”

I often felt flustered when Zeimer got serious in odd moments like this. Don’t make me feel self-conscious! It’s possible to live without knowing these things!

Zeimer set the book aside with a darkened expression.

“You don’t need this. I’ll show you. Watch.”

Zeimer opened his palm, and a translucent animal I had never seen before rose above it.

“This is an elephant. And this is a monkey.”

Fascinated by the creatures playing on his palm, I poked one with my finger, and they jumped in surprise. Feeling a bit sorry, I withdrew my hand.

The tiny animals manifested from mana made way whenever a new creature “popped” up from his palm. Small clusters of mana leaped into the air, frolicking and circling around me.

“Look closely. These are all things you protected, Ian.”

After explaining everything I had circled, Zeimer finally met my eyes. He wore a faint, weary smile.

“Let’s go see them in person later. Together.”

It was night. As I often did, I secretly slipped out of bed and crept toward the window. Like in the other rooms, the windowsill in my room was cushioned to serve as a sofa. It was the only window that protruded slightly, designed so that the adjacent room and terrace weren’t directly connected. The rest were floor-to-ceiling glass leading to the terrace.

I parted the curtains slightly and sat on the windowsill with my knees pulled up, blankly watching the constellations drift with the passage of time. I thought of nothing. Eventually, I must have fallen asleep without realizing it.

Knock, knock—

A knocking sound broke through my grogginess. Sunlight pierced through my closed eyelids. I blinked blankly, looking down. It was blindingly bright.

“Sir Ian, I’m coming in.”

Crap. I was on the windowsill. I couldn’t let them find out I could move this far on my own yet. Especially if Zeimer found out; he would immediately claim I was in good condition and insist we settle things with the Dragon as soon as possible.

I had to get back to bed. The door was already opening, and I had just scrambled out of the curtained window seat. To make matters worse, I hadn’t set up a mana barrier today, so I couldn’t even use magic to teleport.

The method I chose was—

CRASH!

I dove straight under the bed. Making it look as if I had simply rolled off in my sleep.

Zeimer had tossed and turned all night. Sleep wouldn’t come. Lately, he had been feeling poignantly just how narrow Ian’s world was. Small, trivial things that went unnoticed on the battlefield stood out even more sharply in the midst of a peaceful daily life.

Everyone knew how much Ian was struggling with guilt. It wasn’t the Hero’s fault that they couldn’t save everyone. It was simply the way the situation had been. And yet, that overly responsible Hero was blaming himself.

Zeimer didn’t fall asleep until dawn. The more he thought, the more frustrated he became rather than finding an answer.

“Argh!”

The pillow he threw in a fit of pique couldn’t withstand the mana thick in the air and exploded. Seeing the feathers fluttering throughout the room made him think of Ian again.

Thinking of Ian—who had lived a life so desolate, where nothing ever went his way—made his heart feel like it was being wrung out. Stupid brat, Zeimer muttered. Idiot. Naive fool. Too kind for his own good.

He had never seen Ian laugh or cry. His expression was always the same. You could tell if he was in a better mood if he seemed a bit more animated, but there was never a direct expression of emotion. At most, he’d blink a few times when flustered or grow even quieter than usual when depressed.

His whole life…

Zeimer stood up and irritably threw on a robe.

With a single gesture, he cleared away all the feathers and, noting that it was almost time for Ian to wake up, headed into the hallway. It felt like this stifling feeling would only let up once he saw Ian in person.

He walked down the stairs and sat on the chair placed in front of Ian’s door to wait. The servant standing opposite said he would wake up in about ten minutes, so Zeimer intended to wait that long.

His head throbbed with the weight of his spiraling thoughts. He rested his elbows on his knees, interlacing his fingers, and bounced his leg restlessly. Ten minutes felt like a week.

When the stone-faced servant finally moved, Zeimer jumped up as well. Finally!

Knock, knock—

His personality screamed at him to just push his way in, but Zeimer waited with strained patience. The act of the servant knocking and opening the door felt agonizingly slow.

As the door opened, the dim room—darkened by closed curtains—came into view. And then…

“Ian!”

There was Ian, collapsed on the floor beside the bed.