Chapter 9: Grace

I blink, staring at the old woman who is plainly looking back at me.

At a glance, she certainly looks like just an ordinary old woman.

You know the type.

The sharp-featured grandmother you might find in any neighborhood.

The physician looked exactly like that, the only external difference being her unbent back.

However, the old woman before me wasn’t just a seemingly ill-tempered grandmother, but actually a fierce old veteran, marking many internal differences.

One of the biggest reasons the duchy became a duchy was due to the immense military power grown by capturing the non-human species swarming from the north.

And how strong the person who led the Elite Knight Order, the core of that military power, was, likely needs no mention.

Especially since the time this old woman was most active was said to be during wartime, she had far more practical experience compared to other successive Knight Commanders.

Being such a person, she knew the human body not just thoroughly, but inside out.

“If the illness hasn’t worsened, then what?”

Because of that, besides her original duty of training apprentice knights, she could also serve as my physician.

“…The dosage of the medicine, I think it needs to be increased slightly.”

And having been born and raised near a jungle, she is an old woman who also shows considerable talent in herbalism.

In reality, compared to priests who merely wield divine power, she could likely be considered the most medically knowledgeable person in the duchy.

“………Young lady, have you lost your mind? The current dosage is already high. It’s barely enough even if we gradually increase it after about a year, and you want to increase the amount right now?”

Of course, even so, whether I liked her was a completely different matter.

“This old woman prescribed it, but this isn’t a panacea. It’s a medicine with clear side effects. Didn’t I tell you that taking more doesn’t necessarily make things better?”

No matter how outstanding a person is, if I couldn’t grasp them, they were a potential threat to me.

“Unless something suddenly requires you to exert yourself, for the time being, even if it hurts, it’s better to endure it a little……… unless.”

Nevertheless, due to the nature of the physician-patient relationship requiring frequent contact, she was a person inevitably bound to cause significant irritation.

“……Young lady. Don’t tell me you intend to pass the Knight Examination and ascend the Ducal throne?”

Separate from being annoying, she was quite a quick-witted person.

That aspect was certainly something I liked.

However, the parts I disliked outweighed the parts I liked, so naturally, I couldn’t help but dislike her.

“Living this long, it’s been a while since the war that I’ve heard such nonsense. What kind of pie-in-the-sky talk is this?

Someone who struggles just to go outside, what talent could you possibly have to pass the Knight Examination………”

First, because her expression is hard to read; second, because she sees through my act to some extent; third, because despite that, she’s someone who can’t be eliminated.

“………No, it’s unlikely you lack talent, huh. Tsk.”

And, finally, fourth.

“You know from examining me yourself, don’t you? My illness.”

Because she knows my illness precisely, but having accepted my request, she still hasn’t told anyone about it.

“……………Yes, that d*mn Grace.”

Grace.

The name of the illness I suffered from, and simultaneously, a constitution regarded as a form of proof.

The symptoms were twofold.

One, ceaseless, persistent pain throughout the body.

Not pain originating from a specific area, but a symptom manifesting throughout the entire body.

From every single joint in the feet and ankles, travelling up through the internal organs, all the way to migraines.

The intensity isn’t that strong, but the fact that it aches all day long makes it quite bothersome.

This is also why I use a cane; ensuring my steps with leg muscles alone was quite difficult.

And the second, most severe symptom, is the intermittent amplification of senses.

This symptom, also called a seizure, amplifies senses to the point where one can even hear another person’s heartbeat.

One might wonder why this is such a severe symptom, but combined with the first symptom, it’s a different story.

Several times, no, perhaps several tens of times?

Considering pain that much greater than the usual discomfort engulfs the entire body, the reason I couldn’t help but faint yesterday should be roughly understandable.

Simply put, it’s a pain one never gets used to, no matter how many times it’s felt.

To the point where thinking calmly is impossible, where the composure maintained by somehow enduring the pain shatters instantly.

“…Phew, with that, it might not be impossible. Doesn’t look like the martial arts type, but seems like a useful field at least.”

Then, why does this terrible illness bear the name Grace?

There are two symptoms, but three characteristics.

“Similar, isn’t it? That’s why I made such a decision.”

First, no treatment method, including divine power, works.

Rather, using divine power only shortens the interval between seizures, so essentially, only paths to worsening it exist.

“……I trust you know, but the more the young lady pushes herself, the faster the seizure cycle will become. You are aware of that, right?”

Second, the interval between seizures progressively shortens.

What started as a week, then two weeks, shortens to three days, then one day, eventually shrinking to hourly intervals.

Shrinking and shrinking like that, until at some point, the seizures disappear entirely.

After that, well.

Roughly, it’s an explanation that can be tied together by the two words ‘terminal’ and ‘incurable’.

It wasn’t critically important, so there was no need to delve deeply.

“I am well aware. It is because I am aware that I made the choice.”

I replied as such, smiling habitually.

“…Please stop making that forced-looking smile. Even for the Grand Duchess, it’s uncomfortable to see.”

“……I shall do so.”

“…How can even such aspects be so similar.”

Watching the muttering physician, I inwardly vented my disbelief.

No matter how many times I think about it, I have no idea how she figures it out.

The Grand Duke, who was clearly stronger, seemed not only unable to detect the falsehood in my expression but didn’t even suspect it, yet everything is laid bare before this human.

In the first place, the fact that she readily keeps silent about the illness just because I asked is utterly puzzling to me.

If I held some weakness over her, I might understand, but simply keeping quiet because of a single request to keep quiet isn’t exactly normal, is it?

After all, I’m an outsider attached only by the superficial relationship of adoption, while the physician is a person of the Weiss family.

What does this person trust in me, and for what purpose does she hide the truth?

I tried to think further, but not only because of that fact but simply because she was an incomprehensible old woman in many ways, the only immediate conclusion I could reach was that I just didn’t want to face her.

“Then for now, I’ll increase the medicine dosage from next time. And…… tsk, don’t overdo it. That, d*mn illness only gets harder the more you endure it.”

‘It’s not for enduring.’

‘Rather, it’s closer to the opposite.’

‘For me to truly break, to no longer live any further life.’

‘To simply burn away the remaining time quietly, to die quietly without any meaning.’

‘I had to fulfill the contract with the Holy Sword, and to do that, I would have to continuously swallow that anesthetic-like medicine.’

“…I’ll keep that in mind.”

Slice—

As the physician waved her arm again, the silence that filled the room instantly vanished.

The sound of the fireplace crackling, the window rattling in the wind, and other noises began to be heard again, highlighting that the space had been cut off by something until just moments before.

“Doesn’t seem like there are any other issues, so this old woman will take her leave now. Take your medicine well, and I hope we don’t see each other often.”

‘Please, I hope so too.’

‘Someone whose expression I don’t know how to approach each time I see them, I didn’t want to exchange words with them either.’

‘Someone whose intentions for showing me kindness I couldn’t understand—I disliked them even more.’

…The type of human I disliked the most were those who offered kindness without reason.

“Take care, Physician.”

As the unwished-for storm passed, I recomposed my expression.

Neither of us seemed to want frequent encounters, but considering future matters, she was likely someone I’d have to see often.

The probability of my body enduring harsh duties and remaining upright was less than half.

It would be best to spend some time developing countermeasures for the physician.

It was time for research into human expressions, emotions, and situations, something I had set aside for a while.

Ah. Of course, there was something to do before that.

Slowly getting up, I take a quill pen from the drawer and sit lightly in my seat.

I wondered if the ink had dried, but fortunately, it still remained in liquid form.

Thinking I’d saved myself some trouble, I dip the nib into the ink and place it on a suitable piece of paper.

What I am about to do with this quill and paper can be simply defined as, yes, related to the third characteristic mentioned earlier.

What is the third characteristic of Grace?

The fact that divine power doesn’t work also contributes to this illness being called Grace.

However, the biggest reason Grace is called Grace actually lies in this third characteristic.

Grace is not an illness contracted through any particular route.

Rather, it is an illness bestowed.

Literally bestowed only upon specific people, specific individuals.

Occasionally, individuals hailed as geniuses of the century are born into the world.

Whether in art, swordsmanship, or knowledge, those born bearing a shining star are usually given titles like ‘born with God’s blessing’.

In this world, unfortunately, the illness called Grace tends to be bundled together with such titles.

Yes, that’s why it’s Grace.

All the beautiful flowers that bloom prettily to illuminate the world are personally picked by God when they are most vibrant, so it is Grace.

Not permitted to wither and die, God personally marks them from the moment their talent begins to bloom, so it is Grace.

Therefore, if one realizes their own genius in a certain act, and then suddenly experiences terrible pain afterwards.

The church dictates, God himself reaps the life, thus it is grace.

The genius, despairing before death, creates a masterpiece of a lifetime and perishes, thus it too is a blessing.

It is called a holy choice because it is a sure means of proving one has received heaven’s recognition.

Because the Church, because God, named it so.

Therefore, it can be called Grace.

That is why an incurable disease that should be condemned and resented can be called Grace.

And since I too had received God’s personal declaration of intent to kill me, it was practically confirmed that I possessed tremendous talent in some field.

Perhaps, if I had wielded that talent properly before dying, I could have left Eleonora’s mark on the world, but for me, who merely enjoyed hobbies, it was irrelevant.

Of course, that didn’t mean I didn’t wish the pain would lessen at least as much as I felt it, though.

Still, well, it was likely much better than dying with outstanding talent in some weird field, so it was a wish I didn’t mind leaving unfulfilled.

Considering it from that realm of estimation, I was talented in a reasonably decent area.

At the very least, enough to easily pass the Knight Examination—doesn’t that say it all?

It was just a matter of discarding all those trivial things and fulfilling the contract before all the time ran out.

I gripped the pen and continued a kind of design work until mealtime arrived.

It was the first step into a present aimed at a goal, replacing the tedious, meaningless past—an emotionally glorious moment.

Though the fact that the goal itself was eternal rest for the mind couldn’t help but elicit a dry laugh.

Outside the window, the sunset was beginning.

A twilight that, for some, might have arrived unfairly quickly.