Chapter 113: The Road Back (7)
A golden age is built upon blood-soaked land.
Einthafen was no exception.
Though the past twenty years had been peaceful, that peace had not come freely.
Countless wars—wars against numerous kingdoms that once existed across the continent, wars against nations that had dared to call themselves empires—war after war after war…
Through brutal conflicts where blood washed away blood, Einthafen had emerged victorious. And the era of prosperity forged through those battles had continued to this day.
During the Unification War, Wolfgang, Baizik, and the knightly orders under their command had been a major pillar of the main forces.
Though they had aged, their valor had not waned. Instead, their experience had deepened, allowing them to raise the next generation. To them, a monster invasion was hardly a fearsome threat.
Thus, when Wolfgang and Baizik left Ashray behind to guard the sleeping Astrid and Leopold at the mansion, they felt no anxiety.
They would arrive, deal with the situation swiftly, and return.
It was nothing more than that.
“…That’s probably what they’re thinking,” said Astein. “Wolfgang and Baizik should have gone to the academy by now. As for the kid, Ashray—he might be at the mansion, or he might not. Either way, it doesn’t really matter.”
“True enough.”
Stepping down from the carriage, Astein and Veracien picked up their only luggage—small bags slung over their shoulders. The carriage slowly turned and began its journey back the way it had come.
Veracien watched the departing carriage for a moment before shifting her gaze to Astein.
“You’re heading to the Autonomous Tower, right?”
“Yes. And I’ll be making preparations until you bring her.”
“Right. It’s not a problem—I just have to fetch her while she’s asleep. Nothing too complicated. Anyway, I’ll take my time and enjoy myself, so make sure everything’s ready.”
“Of course.”
Astein’s figure faded into the flames of a talisman, disappearing from sight.
Veracien turned her head toward the Miterien ducal estate.
A smile flickered across her lips—and in the next instant, she vanished.
***
“I have no idea how you found me.”
“Oh my, it’s not hard to find a target when you know where to look.”
Leopold fell silent as he stared at Veracien.
When she had suddenly appeared in this room, he had been surprisingly calm.
He had already known that she was no ordinary human. He had already suspected that she was behind Astrid’s mysterious slumber.
And he had already seen her appear silently before, back in the academy classroom, without the slightest hint of presence.
It was likely the same ability at play now.
He stopped Ashray, who was ready to attack, and instead stepped forward himself.
“Your Highness, it’s dangerous!”
“You’re in more danger than I am. I know for a fact—she has no intention of harming me. Nor does she have any reason to.”
Leopold’s gaze locked onto Veracien.
Tell me I’m wrong, his eyes seemed to say.
Veracien met his gaze for a moment, then smiled.
“You’re right, Crown Prince. I have no intention of harming you. Not even the slightest.”
“I have one more question. I’d appreciate an honest answer.”
Leopold remained composed.
Charging at an enemy in blind rage was the mark of an amateur.
Acting overly relaxed was the mark of the inexperienced.
The best approach was to remain calm, natural, and treat the opponent as if they were nothing out of the ordinary.
Veracien studied him in silence.
Her lips curled as if in mockery, but soon, the smirk transformed into an amused, genuine smile.
“Very well, Your Highness. Ask anything you’d like.”
Leopold took a slow breath.
There was no need for deception.
Tricks and leading questions wouldn’t work on someone like her.
“You’re a succubus, aren’t you?”
“That’s right.”
With those words, the black nun’s habit Veracien wore began to shift.
The long skirt, which had once reached her ankles, split down the middle, hugging her legs closely before transforming into sheer mesh that revealed the bare skin beneath. The form-fitting upper garment clung even tighter to her body, accentuating every curve.
The sleeves rolled up, turning white as they curled into delicate lace-like patterns resting lightly on her shoulders—a strikingly revealing outfit by the standards of this era.
‘…She looks just like before.’
A memory surfaced in Leopold’s mind.
The outfit was almost identical to the one she had worn when he had first seen her in Astrid’s room at Eranya’s call.
“Indeed, I am a succubus,” Veracien said, twirling slightly. “Was my outfit too provocative? Fufu.”
She thought Leopold’s face had reddened from embarrassment.
It hadn’t.
“…Let’s go with that. Are you the one who put Astrid into this sleep?”
“You’ve figured out quite a bit. Yes, I did. I am a succubus, after all. All powers related to sleep are mine to command.”
The ease with which she admitted it made Leopold momentarily suspicious—was she hiding something?
But he quickly dismissed the thought.
What reason would she have to lie?
“A twisted hobby.”
“But an entertaining one.”
“…What do you plan to do with Astie?”
"Well? I didn’t really have any grand plan or anything. She was just making too much of a fuss, so I put her to sleep. Not a bad outcome, was it? After all, Astrid is quite beautiful when she keeps her mouth shut."
Leopold bristled at those words.
Fine. If she had to be put to sleep, then at least let her sleep entirely.
But this—letting her wake for just one hour a day—what kind of twisted game was this?
The thought made his irritation surge.
"If you wanted to put her to sleep, then you should have done it completely."
"But I did put her completely to sleep."
Veracien’s expression shifted to one of genuine confusion.
She had, hadn't she?
No, she was sure she had.
She had seen Astrid in the Autonomous Tower, hadn’t she…?
Wait.
What was going on?
"What do you mean by that?"
"You’re the one who tampered with her sleep so she wakes for only an hour a day, and now you’re acting like you don’t know? How absurd."
Now that he thought about it, Leopold himself looked gaunt.
He was the one who seemed to be in desperate need of sleep.
"One hour… per day?"
Veracien’s face twisted in confusion.
If her spell hadn’t worked at all, then as Parier had suggested, Astrid should be wandering around as if nothing had happened.
But now that she thought about it—
Parier had mentioned something strange.
That even after being put to sleep, Astrid had moved around actively for some time.
And then, she suddenly collapsed and fallen asleep.
"Is it really true that she wakes for only one hour a day?"
"Yes, you damned demon."
The response came from an unexpected source.
Leopold’s gaze snapped toward the bed, and when Veracien followed his line of sight, she saw it too.
Astrid, her mint-colored eyes gleaming like a specter’s, was sitting up in bed.
"No way… This shouldn’t be happening."
For the first time, Veracien looked genuinely unsettled.
There were many kinds of sleep. Light sleep, deep sleep, fragmented sleep… But for a succubus like her, someone who commanded sleep itself, none of that mattered.
She had ensured Astrid would fall into a slumber so deep that no one could wake her.
And yet—
Here she was, awake.
And not just that—she was waking every day, without fail, for one hour.
Astrid wasn’t supposed to be able to wake at all. This was impossible.
"What… What is happening here?"
"That’s what I should be asking, you filthy demon. That cursed tower—was that your doing too?"
Leopold looked at Astrid in shock.
Where was the gentle, graceful Astrid from the academy?
Now, she spat curses like venom, her eyes filled with the fire of someone ready to tear a person apart.
"A-Astie…"
Every day, during the single hour she was awake, she spoke to Leopold with warmth.
But this Astrid—this was entirely different.
"The tower… Ah, the tower. The—wait, no. You… could it be—?"
Veracien’s brows furrowed as she studied Astrid.
She seemed about to say something, then shook her head, as if dismissing an absurd thought.
But then again… could it be…?
"You—"
"Speak."
"Are you… maybe… suffering from some kind of split personality disorder? Because otherwise, this makes no sense."
Astrid’s face lit up with realization.
***
She remembered.
At last, she remembered.
With a sensation like something snapping apart, with the feeling of something crumbling within her, all her memories came rushing back.
‘Astrid von Miterien.’
Her name.
The name of this body.
‘Leopold von Einthafen.’
A man’s name.
A golden-haired, blue-eyed young nobleman.
‘…And me.’
"Hey, what are you doing?! The boxes are piling up!"
"Ah, sorry…"
Muttering, she quickly hoisted another box of salted cabbages onto the truck.
If one of these boxes burst, it would be a mess. But she had no energy to care about that.
For now, it hadn’t burst, so it wasn’t her problem.
‘But…’
Why was she here?
She had no answer.
The box in her hands had a large illustration of Gangwon potatoes printed on it.
It was the season—potatoes, cabbages, everything was heavy this time of year.
And yet, when she lifted the box, it felt as light as air.
She barely had to exert any effort.
‘Why am I this strong?’
And if she was here—where was the real Astrid?
If she had taken over this body, did that mean Astrid was now just a shell, a lifeless body left behind with only her Divine Arms?
What the hell was happening?