Chapter 137 - Spirit of the Guardian Tree (16)

The first words of the letter contained chilling text.

[If you play this trick one more time, I'll really kill you.]

And that was the end of the letter.

Among all the words I had heard while living with Silveryn, this was the most oppressive and fierce.

It was the first time I'd received such harsh words directly.

Additionally, for someone who claimed to be a third party detained in prison and unreachable unless visited, she changed her tune faster than expected.

I felt somewhat wronged. 

Wasn't Silveryn the one who played this trick first? There's no reason to be this angry. Unless she really believed my words and turned the Holy City upside down...

"..."

First, I needed to quell Silveryn's anger.

I held my head with both hands and pondered. 

What reply should I send? This is a first, so I have no frame of reference.

I quickly took out paper and ink. After chewing my lips for a while, I wrote down a vaguely conceived reply.

[Teacher always left an unforgeable red marking beside the closing words of her letters. However, I don't see it in this letter. Please send proof that you are Teacher. If you don't, I will immediately suspend my studies and head to the Holy City to find Teacher.]

The underlying meaning was that I'd do as told. If Master was in danger, I should drop everything and go. What kind of disciple would lounge around in the dormitory?

The relationship between master and disciple was inherently unequal. Since Silveryn was responsible for me, my fault was greater for causing unnecessary worry by sending letters sporadically.

I neatly folded the reply and attached it to the Stitch. It rose into the sky, flicking its wings like a wasp.

After sending the letter, I noticed a group of people approaching me. I'd been so absorbed in Silveryn's letter that I hadn't noticed them coming.

Five middle-aged men wearing luxurious tunics and sporting pointed beards stood before me with their chests puffed out. Whatever else, they clearly weren't from Eternia.

"Are you Damian?"

"...Who’s asking?"

"We were waiting at the dormitory, but didn't expect you'd be out here already. First, let me introduce ourselves—we are envoys who have come to deliver invitations from the Principality and the Duchess."

"You could have delivered them through Eternia."

"The proud Yulisia Principality has always maintained good relations with Archmage Silveryn. Therefore, the Principality thought it proper to show adequate courtesy to her disciple as well."

"..."

One envoy pulled out a gold-leafed scroll from his breast pocket and held it out.

***

Gerald knocked and entered the Duchess' bedroom. He knelt on one knee upon entering.

The Duchess appeared quite busy. Three maids attended to Bibi. One brushed her hair while the other two were busy tending to her nails.

As Bibi's back was hidden by maids, he had to check her face through the mirror.

"What is it?"

"I'm here to report on the Eternia class observation."

"Ah, don't mind my appearance, just speak."

"The boy's swordsmanship sits in an ambiguous position. It can't be called either excellent or lacking. And he seemed to avoid proper fighting."

The corner of the Duchess' mouth curved up in the mirror.

"I told you, didn't I? That he's hiding his talents."

Though Gerald remained uncertain, the Duchess seemed almost convinced.

"He maintains an extremely passive attitude toward external activities as well. He politely declined both the personal meeting request and the social gathering invitation."

"The enticement must have been insufficient."

"It was my inadequacy. I apologize."

Gerald felt somewhat wronged.

He recalled young nobles who drooled at the chance to meet the Duchess, constantly seeking opportunities. He could understand if it were women, but for young men of marriageable age, it was a position worth betting their entire fortune on.

Did he not realize how significant it was to establish connections with Yulisia Principality's highest authority? The meeting proposal itself was actually the most straightforward and powerful enticement.

Whether lacking real-world sense or not, Damian showed no interest in the proposal.

"Well, I expected this. Though it's vexing, what can we do? That's probably how his master taught him."

"..."

The Duchess raised her hand and waved it. Taking the signal, the maids stopped their work and left the bedroom together.

Bibi slowly rose from her seat.

A black corset dress revealing her upper body line, a translucent chiffon skirt rippling in the wind from the balcony.

She turned to look down at Gerald.

Red-painted lips and hair arranged to fall over one shoulder. Numerous accessories, each jewel worth a mansion.

Indeed, Bibi boasted an enchanting figure worthy of universal admiration.

She put on a wide-brimmed hat with feathers at an angle and spoke, "Perhaps he just moves as his mother tells him."

"..."

"I'll go to Eternia myself. I'll see with my own eyes if he's really good enough to reject the Principality."

***

Awkward acting tones echoed across the stage.

"Oh, long and tedious night. Time grows short. When the east's blessing peeks out, I shall meet my love."

Soon after, the director tapped her guidance stick to stop the rehearsal and climbed onto the stage.

She berated the male student playing the lead with her half-hoarse voice, "I've never seen such garbage acting in my life."

"I'm sorry..."

"Is that the emotion of a man spending the night before his loved one's house? Put more yearning and pain into it and immerse yourself in those emotions. It's not about mimicking sad expressions and sad tones!"

"H-how do I immerse..."

"Oh, my fate. Someone show an example. Ah, Trisha! Stop hiding and come out."

Then Trisha emerged hesitantly from behind the mansion-like set door on stage.

"Yes, Senior?"

"Hey! Don't call me senior on stage, call me Director. Show an example as a fellow first-year."

"What should I..."

"Act out painful love."

"Okay!"

Trisha answered energetically, climbed onto the set, and threw open the window.

"Ahem! I'll start."

Then she struck a seemingly exaggerated pose and began reading her lines, "Ah, his heart is like a closed door. Though I flutter around him like a butterfly, the bud remains tightly sealed. Ah, to love such a beast of a man. My foolish fate! If Father knew, he wouldn't permit even these feelings."

Though Trisha's acting wasn't perfect, it didn't lack in expressing emotional lines. For some reason, Trisha showed good immersion in such acting.

The director pointed at Trisha with her rolled-up script.

"See, even scatter-brained Trisha does this well. Your brother's supposed to be excellent at acting, so why are you like this? Draw from past experiences or whatever to immerse yourself..."

"I'm not scatter-brained!"

Ignoring Trisha, the director continued speaking to the male student, "Haven't you ever liked someone? There must be someone pretty enough to capture your mind completely. Think of that person."

The male student thought quietly as if recalling someone, then answered, "Ah, I understand."

"Who did you think of?"

"In my imagination..."

"No, think of someone you've actually seen."

"Then... um..."

Seniors watching from the audience seats teased.

"I heard the Guardian Tree's spirit is the prettiest."

"I-I'll think of the Guardian Tree's spirit."

"Have you seen it yourself?"

"No..."

The director hit the male student's crown with the script book.

"How can you think about something you haven't even seen? Think of someone around you."

Then the male student scratched his head awkwardly and glanced at a girl sitting in the audience writing a script.

It was Luna, in charge of scenarios.

Luna's eyes briefly flashed with dangerous energy upon sensing this.

The director shook her head as if giving up. Then, as if feeling strained, she grabbed her neck and declared a break.

"Ah, when will this kid become human? I'll die first. This won't do. Ten minutes break!"

The tension on stage immediately dissolved. It became chaotic as waiting actors came out from behind the curtain.

She came down from the stage still holding her neck.

Trisha quickly ran over and stood beside the director.

"Senior, Senior!"

"Ah, you brat. What?"

"My, my, friend, friend."

"That friend story again?"

"Yes!"

"Haa, why do you try to analyze every single action? It'll tire both you and him."

"But this time was really strange."

"Oh, my head..."

"Listen, Senior. I woke him up when he was sleeping late in the dormitory. But suddenly he looked at the calendar and his expression turned bad. There's no special practice or anything."

"That can happen. I habitually check when rest days are too."

"He's always diligent regardless of weekday or weekend. That's why it was strange!"

"Maybe it's someone's death anniversary... or a commemoration day he no longer celebrates, something like that."

"...Right! That's exactly how it felt!"

"Then stay quiet and don't stir things up. You might get burned."

Trisha's expression gradually became meaningful.

***

After finishing several classes and personal training, the sun was already setting.

I headed to the small theater where Trisha was, sweating heavily. It was to pick her up.

Except for Silveryn's letter, it had been a satisfactorily ordinary day with nothing unusual happening.

I leaned slightly against the railing in front of the theater entrance, cooling off my sweat while killing time.

Then a pure white dog came walking leisurely from somewhere and sat opposite me.

It seemed familiar and looking closely, it was Luna's wolf spirit.

It stared at my face, panting with its tongue out.

"...?"

Come to think of it, I think I'd heard Luna was in the Drama Club too. Wonder if she's here.

Suddenly the spirit stood up and growled fiercely at the door. While I was wondering what signal it was sending, someone opened the door and came out, and Luna's spirit simultaneously disappeared into smoke.

The person who came out was Trisha.

"...?"

"Oh? Damian, you were here. Did you wait long?"

"Yeah. You took so long I thought someone kidnapped you."

"Even if I'm kidnapped, my friend would come find me, right?"

Brushing off the strange comment, I said, "I'd have to bring you back. Let's go, it's cold."

We walked toward Northern Village. I planned to stop briefly at the dormitory to gather some things to move to Thorn Garden.

Around when we were passing through the student garden, Trisha suddenly asked in a careful tone, "Damian, is there anything special about today?"

"Nothing. Why?"

"Umm... never mind!"

Whatever day it might be, if no one remembered it, it was just an ordinary day.

Trisha fidgeted by herself as if something was bothering her.

After walking for a while, we stopped briefly in front of Witdruff Hall dormitory.

"Wait here for a moment. I'll just gather some things and come back."

"I want to go in too!"

"No."

"Come on, let me take a look. I’ll let you use my whole dormitory."

Are you kidding me? You forcibly dragged me there. 

"Fine, come in. But stay quiet and behave."

Trisha hopped with joy.

"Okay!"

"But don't be surprised if you find anything strange in the room. It's not mine."

I still hadn't disposed of the three baskets of welcome ceremony waste.

"You're the strangest person, so I won't be surprised."

Entering the dormitory, a maid in the corner of the hall gave a light greeting. There was a suspicious gaze from the unfamiliar face following behind. When I signaled we'd leave soon, the maid nodded.

I climbed the stairs through the hall with Trisha.

Reaching the third floor, Trisha was already panting.

"Why is it so high?"

"We're here."

We moved down the corridor to the end room.

In Room 31F, while searching my pocket for keys, I suddenly stopped, noticing something strange placed in front of the door.

A pure white box the size of a fist, carefully decorated with a red ribbon.

Trisha beside me asked, seeming to notice something odd.

"Damian... what's wrong?"

I picked up the box. My hands were trembling slightly.

And seeing this, my heart suddenly began pounding and my stomach churning.

It felt like someone was pulling me into deep darkness underground as if the floor had collapsed.

An anniversary that neither the nun from the orphanage who took me in nor Silveryn knew about and that my only blood relative had forgotten.

A day no one remembered. A day those whose existence was denied curse deeply.

Because memories weighing heavily had piled up year after year, I couldn't handle the emotions that chained together once uncovered.

That was why I'd hoped it would be just an ordinary day.

This shouldn't exist.

Under the ribbon, there was a note with no name from whoever left it.

It had a short message written on it.

[Happy birthday.]