30 Years Have Passed Since the Prologue

Chapter 203

School reinstatement was not authorized, but they could not stop the management of the orphanage. Therefore, Elizaveta reluctantly had to approve Ivan’s outing.

“Don’t you think this is unreasonable?”

“Your Majesty, the interior minister’s approval documents have been submitted.”

“Stop, stop bringing them! Enough!!”

The main reason was the tasks that had been postponed for a long time. Essentially, Elizaveta was not idle. An authoritarian power meant monopolistic authority over state affairs, which made her absence lead to paralysis in national administration.

Thus, during the three weeks she devoted to Ivan’s care, all work in the Prichenkaya central administration had effectively come to a halt. Now she was paying the price for it.

“Ugh… Vanka… I miss you…”

“It has not even been an hour since Sir Yeremov went on his outing, Your Majesty.”

“Weren’t you married? Why can’t you understand my feelings?”

Elizaveta ignored Dmitri’s words and sighed again.

Has it only been an hour? He said he would return by night, so does that mean she has to spend at least ten or more hours like this?

If she keeps him by her side, it becomes even more of a problem because she cannot concentrate on her work. She was someone with exceptional self-control, but even a dam can break.

That remarkable self-control, which she had maintained for over a decade, had left no trace in just a few days.

When Ivan was out of her sight, she worried about what he was doing, where he was eating, whether he would return half-dead.

When Ivan was in view, at that moment, she wanted to do “even more enjoyable” things, rendering her work unmanageable. Honestly, could this not be a more significant matter than running the country?

“How much time has passed?”

“Three minutes have passed, Your Majesty. Honestly, this is quite serious.”

“Do you think so too?”

Elizaveta gloomily pushed the report aside.

And the moment she absorbed the text, the Iron-Fisted Monarch began to overlook the state affairs again. She closed her mouth and started to turn the pages, resuming her work.

EP 33. Inter-war Period.

“Ha, right, that’s how it is!!”

Isabel bit her teeth and, now familiar with the routine, walked briskly down the hall.

The voices of her peers greeting her from everywhere did not reach her ears. The Isabel who always cheerfully greeted everyone was no longer there. That person died a fortnight ago.

Now she had been reborn as Dark Isabel. Just like Anakin Skywalker and Skullgreymon demonstrate, dark evolution guarantees unconditional performance enhancement.

“Did you go first with this? Ha!!”

Even in the classroom.

“If you come out like this, I’m done for too!!”

Even while having lunch.

“Honestly, what am I lacking? Tough, pretty, talented, fun. There’s nothing I’m lacking!”

On her way home, her anger gradually intensified. She couldn’t even grasp how the day had passed. She just woke up and got angry, and before she knew it, it was evening.

Isabelle prepared dinner alone once again. As she set the table with the now tiresomely repetitive specialty dish from the magical beast’s territory, she slashed the cutting board with her chef’s knife.

“Honestly? Aren’t you a bit lacking in principle? Lacking in integrity? Huh? Don’t you think so?”

“I… um, yeah. I agree.”

“Then what should we do!”

“Calm Isabelle down?”

“No! You’re not from Tylesse, are you?!”

Oscar, who was dragged into the dinner, could only nod quietly in front of Isabelle’s anger.

“Right?”

“What are Tylesse people best known for?”

“Justice?”

“…?”

What kind of place did Oscar think Tylesse was?

Isabelle quickly dismissed her moment of reflection. A Jedi falling into the dark side and a Space Marine losing themselves in their imaterium never truly reflect.

“Adultery!”

“…?”

What kind of place did Isabelle think Tylesse was?

The answer is ‘normal Tylesse.’ Strictly speaking, ‘adultery’ is nearly an archaic term in Tylesse. Romantic behavior with spouses of the opposite (or same) sex is generally referred to as ‘forbidden love.’

Oscar stared blankly at Isabelle, who was dismantling kimchi with madness. The bright red seasoning stained her apron, making it seem as if she was dismantling a magical beast along with her expression.

“Do you or I even know how much it costs to eat at the Tylesse court?”

“I… I’ve never been to the salon…”

Both outsiders of Tylesse—Oscar (the son of the Patriotic Duke, who was never invited to the salon) and Isabelle (the daughter of the hero, who couldn’t be invited due to her commoner status)—looked a bit glum.

“Do you remember when we were 12 years old? The royal tournament.”

“I remember.”

“Do you remember all the participants swearing to their ladies and receiving handkerchiefs?”

“Is that so?”

In the traditional tournament culture of Tylesse, it was a commonplace event. It was quite common for knights to speak the names and honors of the ladies they served, and for the ladies to present flowers and handkerchiefs to those knights to wish them luck.

Isabelle tore apart a piece of kimchi and ominously said as she tossed it into the stew.

“That’s all adultery. The participating knights are family men, and those ladies all have families too.”

“…Oh.”

What a novel thought.

Oscar quietly admired it.

“Originally, Tylesse people are more sincere when courting the married.”

Such a nation should perish. (Tylesse actually lost about half of its territory.)

“So what do you want to say?”

“The hero party needs to create external activities with long-term goals that everyone can participate in.”

“What about classes?”

“Are we just going to say we took a whole semester off for the past two semesters? Our entire life experience is the class!”

Isabel turned her body toward Oswald while discussing a story that could only be told by a specific profession.

Whether it was because of the kitchen knife dripping with red liquid and specked with kimchi fragments, or the madness-laden expression on Isabel’s face, Oscar found himself unknowingly stepping back a few paces.

“You’re going to help, right?”

“I… I want to attend the class.”

“Are you going to help?”

“I guess I have no choice.”

After all, the Hero Party is supposed to move according to the Hero’s guiding principles.

A Tylesian knight never bows down before fear, and Oscar was not in agreement because of fear.

When trying to seduce someone who is already taken, Tylesians become three times stronger than usual. This has been historically proven; thus, one can see that Isabel right now is at least three times stronger than Oscar.

Oscar knelt before this strict logic of power.

Traditionally, Drovian culture adheres to monogamy. If one were to commit infidelity, they would either divorce or die, and these two consequences are effectively the same. In Drovian society, a divorce with clear grounds leads to a duel (life or death).

Among the old proverbs of Drovian, there’s one that goes: “Beware of women, children, and the elderly.” Naturally, one must also be cautious of healthy adult men, which means that the entire population of Drovian is a class of warriors.

Since dying in a duel sends one to heaven, women in Drovian also tend to learn self-defense. After all, they would want to go to heaven.

Thus, Ecdysis was pondering while sharpening a command staff.

“Do you think I can win against the Queen?”

“Ecdysis…?”

“The odds are fifty-fifty… Something like that?”

“Where did that calculation come from…?”

“Every duel is either a win or a loss. Those are the only two outcomes. So that makes the probability fifty-fifty.”

“That makes sense…?”

The music department does not learn mathematics.

Yuri nodded in admiration at this surprising conclusion. (Illustrators are not proficient in mathematics.)

“Let’s fight first and repent later.”

“Ecdysis, just calm down. That’s technically a crime.”

“Challenging Yala is legal, though?”

“I don’t know much about Drovian law…”

“Foreigners are supposed to respect the relativity of culture, after all.”

Is that the right thing to say in this context? Yuri was somewhat taken aback, but given that Koreans are extremely sensitive about the relativity of culture, she couldn’t help but agree.

Eugene, listening from the side, rubbed his hands together like a schemer. With nothing to do until the saint prepared some plan, he needed to relieve the stress that was piling up.

“There’s a story in the folktales of Krasilov. Hehe. Do you know about Romeo and Juliet?”

“…?!”

Yuri perked up in surprise, looking at Eugene. Eugene continued speaking, unaffected by her gaze.

“It’s a tale about forbidden love between a man and a woman that society and law prohibit.”

“Oh, okay. And?”

“Skipping the details, they both committed suicide.”

“…Why are you telling this story?”

“Just listen a bit more. According to legend, they were only around sixteen or fourteen years old.”

“So.”

“What do those kids know about love? Do you know why kids like them have considered suicide?”

“What is it?”

To the suddenly cold Ecdysis, Eugene grinned.

“Don’t do it.”

“…!”

“When you say you shouldn’t do something, it makes you want to do it even more. Society? Law? Customs? Morality? The more they block you, the more true love burns brighter. Are you saying it’s fake love?”

“…!!”

“Shouldn’t you… prove it?”

“Eugene!! Are you crazy?!”

“…Should I send the duel invitation to the palace?”

“Hey, that’s not it. Do you think that if you defeat His Majesty, all of a sudden, my brother who has shown no interest so far would suddenly hit the FA market? Think carefully. There’s a better way than that.”

Although there were some words that were difficult to understand, Ecdysis began to get drawn into his words.

According to ancient texts from Earth, priests who have lost their divine power can transition to dark priests. At this point, since all priests have lost their divine power, it’s as if every priest in this world has the opportunity for transcendental evolution into dark priests.

Originally, as a clergyman becomes more corrupt, their eloquence becomes more cunning. In that sense, Eugene began to whisper into Ecdysis’s ear with a devilish tongue.

“We must seize it.”

“…!!”

“By any means necessary, do your best. To prove it with all your might… isn’t that real love?”

“That makes sense…!”

The old law of Drovian strictly prohibits infidelity by a spouse. This means that once you become a spouse, infidelity can be prevented.

No matter the process, as long as you can get married, it means possession can be secured. Here, the will of the possession target is not very important.

Ecdysis lowered her head. Her soft hair fell, draping over her face like a curtain. From beneath it, a chilling voice echoed.

“The outcome will justify the means…”

It is not contradictory to decide on a plunder marriage while ignoring social norms and international laws, yet to follow Drovian laws after marriage. This is because Drovian law falls under the realm of morality, not humanity. For the same reason that morality is not legislated, the eldest daughter of the moral state Drovian raised her hammer.

*

At that moment, Elpheira, tears brimming in her eyes, shook her luxurious blonde hair and stammered.

“It—it’s too big to fit…!”

“It can be done.”

“I—I don’t want to…”

“It’s something your father asked for.”

“Lies!! My father wouldn’t do that— ugh…!!”

“Brace yourself.”

Elpheira sniffled and struggled to move her chin. A terrible taste spread in her mouth like sand among the thick, rough texture.

Chewing on a nutrition bar, Elpheira glanced up at Ivan with a face that looked like she would throw up.

“I expected it, but how many days have you gone without food?”

“Ugh… ugh… ugh…. ten days…”

“You’ve only supplemented calories with magic, Elpheira. A human body cannot maintain performance solely with calories. If essential nutrients are lacking, all kinds of deficiency symptoms will follow.”

Symptoms such as scurvy and night blindness could occur due to a lack of vitamins. A lack of sodium and iron could lead to anemia and dizziness.

Fortunately, elves are close to tree kin, so their caloric expenditure during non-combat times is not very high, but maintaining physical performance at all times is a crucial matter.

Elpheira, after struggling to pass the nutrition bar, shouted at Ivan.

“Y-You can’t expect me to eat this for the rest of my life!”

“The duration of the curse won’t be that long. Not for a lifetime.”

“Do you think I would eat this if you weren’t around, Ivan?”

“You have to eat it. To survive.”

“W-What if you made it for me each time then?”

At Elpheira’s words, Ivan let out a sigh. Considering Veolgrin’s request, refusing wasn’t an option.

As he observed her expression, Elpheira soon smiled slyly but immediately turned back to a sulky expression when their eyes met.

She quickly took a sip of water to rinse her mouth and opened her lips.

“F-Feed me again.”

“You eat it.”

“I’m going to throw it away. It seems like cheap dog chew, not worthy for our Lord Montblanc…. Come on, hurry up. Ah—.”

“Veolgrin raised his daughter too spoiled.”

“Well, what can you do about it? Why don’t you go complain to my dad?”

Elves are a long-lived race, and they generally have a faint sorrow regarding the death and departure of loved ones. However, considering that, isn’t this reaction too unnatural?

It had only been a month since Veolgrin’s death.

Yet Ivan sighed as he looked into Elpheira’s eyes.

“Alright.”

The face, dry from not eating anything but water for over ten days due to the curse of the god of gluttony, reflected a mix of anxiety, sorrow, and impatience.

Although she was pretending to be strong, how could he not know? Those eyes were the same expressions he had seen many times at the orphanage.

It was the expression of children without a place to lean on. A mask of cheerfulness covering the remnants of unnoticed suffering.

She wasn’t just a displaced person who had lost her parents; she lost her support base and her nation as well. Considering the situation in Kalion, she was no different from a noble of a fallen kingdom, now reliant on a foreign land without any backing.

“Hehe.”

Elpheira took another bite of Ivan’s nutrition bar and grinned.

An orphan doesn’t refuse anything. Especially a war orphan. Ivan was preparing a room in the orphanage for Elpheira.

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