Chapter 30
The massive display case was filled with numerous frames and crude sculptures.
The photos showed children, and the sculptures bore the charming clumsiness of a child’s work.
“As expected… Leo’s grandchildren.”
I smiled, looking at the children in the photos, who resembled a young Leodimir.
Four children, beaming in their parents’ arms.
“I’m glad… you’ve preserved a family’s true happiness.”
Gazing at the case, my heart felt full.
Unlike the dusty, neglected gifts scattered around the office, the case’s contents gleamed.
It was proof Leodimir lived a successful life.
His greatest value was always true happiness, not wealth or fame, and he found it in family.
I genuinely admired my prized disciple.
But—
“…”
Seeing the children in the photos inevitably reminded me of my grandson, who’d be their age.
‘If Noah safely married, his child would be about their age.’
The warmth in my heart sank heavily.
My smile remained, but my eyes filled with longing, sadness, and envy.
Then—
“The clay animal in the front isn’t a pig—it’s a cat.”
Leodimir’s gentle voice came from behind.
Despite his silent approach, I nodded, unsurprised.
He stood beside me, smiling warmly, and continued.
“My second granddaughter, Lukia, made it in art class. It’s modeled after our cat, but she said she failed at making the tail long with clay.”
His voice carried warm laughter, describing his granddaughter’s work.
I chuckled, matching the quaint charm of the story.
But a faint sadness lingered in my laugh.
Leodimir knew why but didn’t show it.
“She’s got talent. Like you, she’ll excel at anything.”
With a brief, warm comment, I turned to the sofa.
Leodimir watched my back, swallowing a sigh.
He steeled himself and sat across from me.
I got straight to the point.
“You know I didn’t return to relive my school days.”
“Of course.”
“I can’t ignore the academic schedule while undercover, but it’s time to act on my plans. There’s much to do.”
Indeed, I had plenty to do.
The ultimate goal was to oust the usurpers and restore Kirhausen and other fallen noble families.
But that required overcoming many obstacles and preparatory steps.
Leodimir mentioned one with a grim expression.
“It was shocking to learn Circe, working in the judiciary, became a private tutor for a family.”
“Even a great magical family couldn’t take Circe, strictly monitored by the imperial court. Her identity as Circe was kept secret.”
“Kidnapping or bribery—likely an illicit method.”
“Probably.”
“The key is the spell they’re hiding with Circe’s Insight. The ‘Well and Deer.’”
The mysterious spell to make Marcel absorb my mana.
It kept me from being discarded as a valuable asset but was also Kirhausen’s darkest secret.
I gazed at the faint mana circuits shimmering on my hand.
“It’s not surprising they’d steal mana to bolster the heir’s power. The question is where they learned such a dubious spell.”
“Based on what you’ve said, they likely devised it from ancient dark rituals, using heretical sorcerers.”
“I’d hope it stops there. We’ll investigate, but… I have a bad feeling.”
I frowned, recalling the family’s attitude toward Marcel regarding the Well and Deer.
A spell for the heir, yet kept secret from him.
It suggested a shocking truth beyond mere illegality.
And the one who might know—
“The man in the green cape who brought Sylvia to Furas. He’s the key. Not an ordinary mana user.”
“Do you think he severed Sylvia’s and other Circes’ ‘connection’?”
“Likely. Otherwise, they wouldn’t let a hard-won Circe be handled by others.”
“It feels tied to the Well and Deer spell. He’s deeply involved in Kirhausen’s secrets.”
Leodimir and I methodically discussed the darkness lurking in Kirhausen.
Where to start investigating, how to do it—we discussed fluidly.
Like master and disciple discussing magic decades ago.
The discussion outlined our direction.
With limited information, we couldn’t act fully yet, but having a framework eased my mind.
But Leodimir’s expression darkened, as if hesitant to broach something uncomfortable.
I noticed but waited for him to speak.
Finally, he spoke heavily.
“Master.”
“Speak.”
“There’s something I should’ve mentioned first.”
“What is it?”
After a pause, he stood, retrieving a small box from an old drawer.
Thud—
A bad feeling struck my chest.
He hesitated, placing the box before me, then spoke.
“As I wrote, after your death 30 years ago, we searched for Young Master Noah for two years. In the last search with a lead…”
He trailed off, slowly opening the box.
Creak—
It revealed its contents with an aged sound.
“…!!”
My eyes widened as far as they could.
Frozen, I stared, then picked up the item with trembling hands.
It was a tattered cloth, stained with dried blood.
Charred in places, it seemed salvaged from a fire.
My breathing grew ragged as I touched the cloth.
A familiar puppy embroidered on the sky-blue fabric.
It was Noah’s cherished blanket.
“Haa…”
My unsteady breaths faltered, and I closed my eyes tightly, bowing my head.
Leodimir broke the heavy silence cautiously.
“We rushed to the safe house where Jasper had Noah, but… it had already been attacked by Ivan Kirhausen’s assassins…”
“…”
“We captured some after the battle, but they died before interrogation. Kirhausen had ensured their lives could be taken remotely…”
“The assassins likely agreed to it. They’d have chosen those who didn’t value their lives.”
My voice, feigning calm, trembled with inner fire.
Leodimir, unable to fathom my feelings, nodded quietly.
He continued cautiously.
“Of course, this blanket alone doesn’t confirm Noah’s fate. Jasper might have staged it to make it seem like he died.”
“…That’s unlikely.”
I spoke calmly, slowly opening my eyes.
My voice, steadier, continued.
“They’re not sloppy enough to assume Noah’s death from this. Nor would Jasper. This means… Noah was gravely injured.”
I analyzed coldly.
In hindsight, assuming he was safe didn’t add up.
If alive, he’d be 40.
Old enough to fend for himself.
A bright child, he’d have contacted Palamedes to plan ahead if alive.
No such attempt meant he wasn’t safe.
A simple, cruel conclusion.
“I’m sorry, Master. I should’ve told you first.”
“How could you easily say my only grandson might be dead? I understand.”
“…”
Leodimir comforted me with silence.
“Haa…”
I steadied myself, regaining composure.
I couldn’t wallow in despair. As Leodimir said, Noah’s fate wasn’t certain.
It wasn’t blind hope.
There was only evidence of injury, not death. And Palamedes wasn’t the only one who hadn’t found proof.
“Even Kirhausen hasn’t found evidence to confirm Noah’s death.”
If they had, they’d have publicized it to legitimize their usurpation.
Their failure to do so meant they hadn’t confirmed it either.
So, I wouldn’t give up.
My golden eyes blazed fiercely.
“They’ve been desperate to find Noah.”
“Kirhausen’s new head launched a massive search for his ‘missing nephew.’ Of course, once found…”
“They’d kill him. Hypocritical bastards.”
Grind— My teeth clenched.
Reclaiming the family was revenge, but saving Noah was atonement.
Atonement took precedence, and that was my wish.
But prioritizing Noah with current information wasn’t rational.
I needed to confirm—
‘Kirhausen’s information on Noah.’
They likely knew more about his fate or condition than Palamedes.
If combining their information didn’t yield Noah, then atonement would follow revenge.
“Leo, I need to move myself. I must uncover what they know about Noah.”
“Master… you don’t mean…”
“If they have clues, they’re not in Shainborough. But I can’t blindly search unknown places now.”
My muttering seemed furious, but I was colder than ever.
“They’d have used a confidant. Shaking down the butler would be certain…”
Leodimir looked at me with pity, knowing I was preparing to deprioritize my grandson.
No words could stop me now. His only role was to aid me.
To investigate thoroughly and return safely to solidify our plans.
“…Then why not go to Pasquier?”
“Pasquier?”
Leodimir shared what he knew.
It was dangerous information, but he’d decided it was the best course.
“Yes. The current Pasquier Institute director was at the scene back then.”
“Pasquier…”
“I sent people to investigate multiple times, but their tight security thwarted us.”
Hearing him, I subtly clenched my fists.
But my hand holding Noah’s blanket was gentle.
As if vowing that hope wasn’t yet torn.