Chapter 34: A Small World

Mitchel left the imperial palace as abruptly and quietly as he had arrived. Given his status as one of the High Priests guarding the capital, it seemed he had pushed his schedule to the absolute limit just to stay for that single week. Though I felt a deep pang of regret, I did my best to conceal it as I saw him off.

Instead of dropping by early in the morning, Mitchel came to say his goodbyes the evening before his departure. The sun had already dipped completely below the horizon, leaving the room shrouded in twilight. Pulling his chair close, he took my hand gently in both of his. His hands were beautifully smooth—so flawless it was hard to believe he had endured the absolute bottom of a brutal, scraping war.

“Do not be so sad, Ian. We will have another reason to meet very soon.”

His clear, softly pigmented eyes, resembling pristine glass marbles, locked onto me with unwavering clarity.

“It is time to wrap up autumn. Winter is truly here now. December will arrive shortly, and the Terralorum holidays will begin at the end of the year. After that, a new year will start.”

“It’s already that time of year.”

“His Majesty is planning to bestow your title during the banquet on the very first day of the Terralorum holidays.”

Surprised by the unexpected news, my eyes widened and I instinctively tightened my grip on his hands. He’s actually going through with it? This was completely news to me.

“I haven’t heard anything about this.”

When I offered my small, bewildered protest, Mitchel let out a soft laugh.

“I didn’t know either. I am actually on my way back from visiting His Majesty just now; he mentioned it then. Though it doesn’t seem to be completely set in stone just yet.”

“Will it be… an Honorary Duke?”

“Yes, most likely. He might even grant you a fiefdom. Many lords and noble houses vanished entirely during the war. When the third and final defensive line was breached, the North and the East were nearly wiped out. A significant number of estates left without masters still remain.”

Reconstruction efforts were in full swing across the Empire. Because the defensive line had stretched horizontally across the northern region of the capital, the North had been reduced to nothing short of a wasteland. The East, where the front lines had pushed nearly as far down as the central region, was also still heavily scarred by the desolate tracks of magical beasts.

“Even so, it is entirely thanks to you, Ian, that the ambient mana and demonic energy wandering the world have vanished completely. Thanks to that, the purification process has proceeded smoothly, and we were able to begin rebuilding immediately without having to worry about living creatures mutating into monsters. A massive number of mages have been deployed, gradually expanding their work from the central region near the capital up toward the North.”

The fragments of news I had casually gathered from Ilya were filling out into a much more detailed picture through Mitchel’s words. I found myself wanting to hear more. Come to think of it, whenever I had asked Zeimer where he was going or where he had been, he would always shrug and say he was off to flex some muscle. Why hadn’t I put two and two together? He was a massive pillar of military might for the Empire, capable of casting large-scale magic without pause.

“The Temple must be incredibly busy as well.”

The capital housed the Grand Temple, while each of the thirty-six territories maintained its own separate temple. These sanctuaries did not exist solely to revere the Goddess and offer sacrifices to the Dragon. Following the Goddess’s decree to ‘establish the highest purpose at the lowest depths,’ they functioned as centers for various relief efforts alongside treating patients whose illnesses defied ordinary medicine.

“We are. If you look at the records from the past millennium, we have never been so busy that it borders on this level of chaos.”

“You are so busy, Mitchel, yet because of me…”

“It is nothing like that. The world won’t fall apart just because one priest steps away for a bit. Haha, but please keep that a secret from the other priests working their fingers to the bone back at the Temple.”

Mitchel pressed his index finger to his lips, shaping them into a round ‘O.’ Shh.

Perhaps I wasn’t the only one feeling the weight of the separation; as the moment for our final goodbye drew near, the corners of Mitchel’s eyes drooped slightly.

“I have to leave quite early tomorrow morning. I plan to offer a brief farewell only to His Majesty and Ilya before I set out.”

“Travel safely, Mitchel. I’ll miss you.”

“Zeimer will be escorting me back, just like when I arrived. I will probably suffer through motion sickness all over again.”

As if trying his best to keep the mood light, Mitchel continued to drop casual jokes. With our impending parting weighing on my mind, I couldn’t bring myself to genuinely laugh, but I chimed in diligently so he wouldn’t feel awkward. However, my responses were forced to a halt by his next words.

“Thank you for saving this beautiful yet devastating world, Ian. I will go do my part to ensure that everything you saved can stand on its own feet again.”

Mitchel spoke in his usual breezy tone. Everyone was a bit strange. They all seemed to possess a peculiar talent for delivering incredibly heavy subjects with complete nonchalance.

I held my breath for a beat. Those were things that shouldn’t be spoken of so lightly. It felt almost farcical watching everyone put so much earnest effort into comforting me, when my entire existence was nothing but a fabric of lies.

The lingering remnants of my emotions wrapped tightly around my throat, freezing me. Everything felt exactly like a massive, orchestrated play.

When I opened my eyes the next morning, Mitchel had already departed. Bringing a basin of water warmed to a perfectly lukewarm temperature, Zeimer once again meticulously scrubbed my hands, feet, and face until they practically squeaked.

“You don’t have to do this every single day.”

“You like water.”

“I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”

Zeimer asserted with absolute conviction. Deciding I didn’t want to waste my energy trying to correct him, I hesitated for a moment before shutting my mouth. Me? Liking water…?

“Did Mitchel leave safely?”

“Yeah. The days are getting shorter as winter approaches, so he left before dawn.”

For his final touch, Zeimer dipped a thin cloth into the water and brought it to my nose. I naturally blew my nose with a soft snort.

Clearing away the washing materials in an instant with a flick of magic, Zeimer pressed down gently on my shoulders. It was his sign that since my face was washed, I should lean my back against the pillows and lounge comfortably again. However, because I had spent weeks doing nothing but lying down, sitting up under my own strength felt far more comfortable than being buried in cushions, so I put some strength into my core and resisted.

“I’m fine.”

Zeimer let out a small exclamation of surprise. He constantly praised me over the most trivial things, frequently leaving me feeling thoroughly embarrassed.

“Oh, look at you sitting up so well now.”

“Honestly, I feel like I could even walk if I wanted to.”

“No, absolutely not.”

Zeimer, who had been murmuring gentle praise, cut me off firmly while shaking his head sideways. What do you mean, absolutely not? You don’t know anything. You don’t even realize that I spend every night sneaking around using the walls for support.

“It’s suffocating, isn’t it?”

Zeimer offered a small, understanding smile. Since it was true that staying cooped up was frustrating—even with my midnight excursions—I nodded my head.

At that, Zeimer spoke up with an uncharacteristic layer of caution.

“Well, since you can sit up on your own now… I’ll come back with Claire later this afternoon. Just wait a little bit.”

I waited until the afternoon with a faint flutter of anticipation in my chest. Still, of all the possible pairings, Zeimer and Claire was an unexpected one. The two were notoriously uncomfortable around each other. Whether it was because their mana was incompatible, they always looked like they found it painful to occupy a tight space together or touch each other.

This world was fundamentally built upon a force known as mana. Stemming from the Dragon’s breath, mana was utilized in various aspects of daily life for countless purposes. Among its applications, physical martial arts and magic stood as the two primary disciplines. However, because their operational methods were diametrically opposed, individuals who reached the absolute pinnacle of either path—like Zeimer and Claire—often found themselves deeply unsettled by the other’s presence.

Felix, who dropped by briefly as part of his usual routine, also carried an aura that suggested something was afoot. Of course, no matter how many questioning looks I threw his way, his lips remained firmly sealed.

Suppressing the curiosity and the subtle excitement rising within me, I waited for Claire and Zeimer. Unlike Zeimer, whose schedule was wildly unpredictable outside of his waking and sleeping hours, Claire maintained highly structured afternoon routines. Barring any emergencies, he would likely visit after finishing his afternoon drills.

I sat upright, stubbornly skipping the post-lunch nap I usually took. Since my lessons were scheduled to resume tomorrow anyway, I passed the time practicing my handwriting, viewing it as a good opportunity to prepare.

After waiting for what felt like hours, a soft knock sounded at the door. Checking the clock, it was exactly the time Claire typically wrapped up his afternoon duties.

Before the permission to enter could fully leave my mouth, the door swung open and Zeimer stepped inside. Seeing him stride in entirely alone without Claire, I raised an eyebrow in silent question.

“Zeimer. Where is Claire?”

“He’ll be right here. He went to grab something.”

After spending a few minutes chatting with Zeimer, Claire finally entered, pushing—or rather, wheeling—something into the room. It was a wheeled chair. Unlike the clunky wooden ones I had occasionally spotted on the battlefields, this one was crafted entirely out of sleek metal. Forgetting to even greet Claire, my eyes rounded in surprise.

“What… is this?”

“Ta-da.”

Zeimer let out a strange, self-made sound effect, a profoundly proud expression painted across his face.

“It’s called a wheelchair. We figured you were feeling cooped up. With this, even if you can’t go entirely on your own, you can move around with the servants without needing us around all the time.”

Claire walked over to the side of the bed, parked the wheelchair, and stepped directly into my personal space.

“It is a great relief to see you looking so much healthier, Ian.”

Because he didn’t sit down and instead leaned his tall frame directly over me, a shadow fell across Claire’s face. The sharp, heavy lines of his brow bone became even more pronounced in the shade.

“Are you alright? Please tell me if you feel any discomfort.”

Slipping his hands under my arms, Claire lifted me effortlessly and settled me into the wheelchair. From somewhere, Zeimer produced a thick blanket and draped it over my lap. My thighs, which had grown thin from weight loss, were instantly hidden beneath the fabric.

“How is it? Are you comfortable?”

I was so entirely absorbed in inspecting the wheelchair that I missed the timing to answer Zeimer. Despite its cold, metallic appearance, the chair radiated a gentle, soothing warmth—as if Zeimer had laced it with some kind of temperature magic. Not stopping there, Zeimer tucked the blanket tightly around my knees and wrapped another one around my torso.

He had clearly embedded not just warming magic, but also the advanced shock-absorption spells usually reserved for high-end luxury carriages; the ride felt incredibly smooth. Of course, the fact that Claire—with his exceptional physical control—was holding the handles likely contributed to the seamless feeling.

Fascinated by the contraption, I gripped the armrests tightly and peered down at the wheels. The two large wheels extended high enough to be easily reached by hand. It looked as though it was genuinely designed to be self-propelled, given the secondary metal rims attached to the wheels to serve as hand grips.

“They made it so you can grab those to move yourself, but don’t bother with that. You’ll just hurt your hands if you’re careless. Besides, your strength hasn’t fully returned yet, so it’s too much for you anyway.”

When I leaned down to get a closer look at the mechanisms, Zeimer cupped my cheeks with his hands, gently steering my gaze back to the front.

“Shall we take a quick step outside? Just out front.”

Zeimer dropped into a crouch right in front of me, looking up into my face. It was a distinctly casual, almost lazy posture, with his elbows propped on his knees. The way his hands hung loosely from his wrists made him look even more relaxed.

Claire chimed in from behind.

“Since we are just testing it out today, why don’t we take a brief stroll to the gardens? We don’t have to go far.”

The hallway? Ever since my return, I had barely stepped a single foot outside of my room. Aside from the trip to the Temple and the brief visit to the glass greenhouse with Felix, I hadn’t left these four walls at all. I had no reason to venture into the corridors, and frankly, it terrified me. To me, the imperial palace was still a deeply frightening place. A space that vast… I was already entirely overwhelmed just trying to protect my own small, fragile world.

When I looked down at Zeimer with slightly trembling eyes, a soft huff of laughter escaped his lips.

“It’s okay. If you don’t want to go out, you don’t have to.”

Straightening his posture, Zeimer reached out and affectionately ruffled my hair. From behind me, the low rumble of Claire’s quiet laughter echoed through the room.

“We can just take it one small step at a time.”