Chapter 34 : Between Courage and Lingering Affection(2)

Cellos Abalan was crouching by the door, clutching a heavy sword that didn't match his light nightwear, his eye pressed to the keyhole.

It was a shabby state for a prince, but Cellos wasn't in a position to care about such things right now.

It was here again today.

Today, too, a giant shadow was walking down the hallway.

He knew all too well how that limping doll moved.

It, which made no sound, would soon loiter in front of the bedchamber door and then disappear without a sound.

No, maybe today was the day it would come inside.

That 7th Prince bastard had said easy words like just leave it alone since there was nothing it could do physically anyway, but if he could have done that, he would have stretched out his legs and slept soundly from the beginning.

Cellos ground his teeth as the infuriating face popped up again.

How could he sleep comfortably when an unknown being, which might burst in at any moment, was guarding the front of the door as if deciding whether to enter or not, before leaving.

The temple priests said that when sending them back, the most they could do was offer a prayer to Great Emperor Sierra.

That a faithful prayer was all it took to drive out the runaways.

Bullshit.

Cellos couldn't understand why they offered up crap like that as a solution, telling him to just pray while looking at it right in front of him.

They should have devised a way to slash it with a sword or beat it with a club, those stupid priests.

Cellos threw an absurd tantrum.

He, who had been taught that he himself was of the Divine Race, couldn't possibly possess the devout faith that priests cultivated over several years.

Still, he'd tried offering up prayers in secret, just to make a show of it, but it really didn't work at all.

The ghost still loitered in front of the room, and Cellos spent the night trembling in fear.

While Cellos was briefly distracted by resenting the innocent priests, the black shadow had approached right up to the door he was leaning against.

“Heok!”

Cellos sucked in his breath.

He couldn't see well through the small keyhole, but with a limping movement that a human couldn't make, the opponent was standing in front of the door.

Its worn, hazy-looking garments, which were wrapped all in black cloth, swayed with it.

Cold sweat flowed down his forehead and stung his eyes, but Cellos couldn't even blink.

Please just pass by.

Just go past.

Just disappear down the hallway like you always do.

Why is it staying so long today, damn it!

Sierra Abalan must have been a god who was harsh to his own bloodline.

Because in the eyes of Cellos, who was cursing inwardly, what appeared to be the black shadow's arm was slowly being raised.

In a shock that felt like his heart was stopping, Cellos landed on his butt.

He prayed he had seen wrong, but a brutal sound echoed inside his room.

Clank.

Clank.

Clank,Clank,Clank,Clank,Clank.

It wasn't a nightmare or an illusion, but reality.

A terrible reality.

Clatter.

Cellos dropped the sword he had been clutching just in case, and crawled backward, stumbling.

It was a bright red lie that ghosts couldn't do anything.

He didn't know what it intended to do, but it was clear that it would open that door and harm him.

As death approached, various thoughts flashed through his mind.

He had learned that when a member of the Imperial Family died, they went to Sierra Abalan's side to help with his work.

But would an ambiguous existence like him, something akin to an Imperial Family member, get the cold rice treatment even after going there?

If that was the case, I should be the one to become a ghost and go around killing the bastards who spread such nonsense.

Cellos squeezed his eyes shut, thinking bad thoughts even as his reason was paralyzed by fear.

The doorknob sound was gradually getting rougher.

“Kkaak--.”

It was at that moment.

A loud crow's cry rang out in the quiet hallway.

At the same time, the sound of metal and wood hitting each other, which had been ringing out like crazy, also stopped.

Instead, the faint sound of flapping wings and the sound of light cloth hitting each other could be heard.

The 8th Prince barely opened his eyes and looked at the still-closed door.

A few fluttering sounds were heard, but they gradually died down not long after.

By the time he could finally move his legs, which had lost their strength, the outside had already become quiet.

Cellos dragged his trembling legs and quietly approached the door.

The hallway seen through the keyhole was neat, as if nothing had happened.

Finally unclenching the hand he had been gripping tightly in tension, he gently undid the lock and stepped out into the hallway.

It was quiet.

A refreshing breeze was blowing in the hallway where the nightmare that seemed like it would never end had passed.

What just happened?

Cellos, still unable to believe what had just happened, cautiously looked around the hallway.

And he spotted something small and shiny placed in front of the door and bent down.

He carefully picked it up.

“……?”

It was…… a small, shining acorn.

***

Do things like ghosts really exist?

I think I used to be quite scared of them in the past.

Seeing as I still have the memory of being afraid it would come when everyone was asleep at pre-dawn, turning on the light in my room, and trembling all over, wrapped in a thin blanket.

But it didn't take long before I stopped worrying about their existence at all.

Even if only because I was worried about next month's electricity bill, I could no longer sleep with the lights on; I had to save on the monthly electricity cost.

There was no particular difference between trembling wrapped in a blanket in a bright room and trembling in a dark room.

Nothing ever came to attack me under the cover of deep night.

Like that, I gradually came to realize the fact that an electricity bill notice was scarier than things like ghosts.

After I became an adult, got a job, and was living a busy life, I became so indifferent to them that I erased them from my mind altogether.

Well, in conclusion, the only ghosts I know are the characters in Dark Header.

And that thing over there certainly looked far removed from the ones in the book.

Among the ghosts I knew, there were no characters who went around wrapped in such messy black cloth.

That thing is a bit creepy.

“Squeak.”

The little creature perched next to me also made a small sound, as if agreeing with my inner thoughts.

It's understandable that the 8th Prince would jump.

I sat on the sill of a small window in the castle hallway, thinking as I looked at the lump of black cloth in the shape of a person, limping in front of the 8th Prince's bedchamber entrance.

He was right.

That was indeed an existence that could harm a person.

It didn't look human, let alone a ghost; it was moving with a complete physical body.

The ghosts depicted in the novel can't even pick things up, let alone walk.

Clank.

Clank.

Clank,Clank,Clank,Clank,Clank.

But isn't that thing perfectly shaking the doorknob roughly with both hands?

What on earth did the 8th Prince see to make him think it was a ghost?

I had to put off blaming the guy, who I suspected might be sitting on the floor wetting his pants right about now.

It wasn't a ghost from the original work, but the situation had gotten more complicated.

What is that thing?

This was the world of a novel where time was already subtly twisted.

Could it be a trigger for a trauma that lay dormant in the 8th Prince's past, which wasn't mentioned in the novel?

Although he lived longer than me, the 8th Prince was also nothing more than an extra.

If he were a more significant character, the book would have released a few more interesting episodes, not just the parts covering the ups and downs of his life, but for him and me, there was no such detailed mention in the book.

In that case, was this something that was originally supposed to happen, or was it another event created by the twisted timeline of this world?

Honestly, I hadn't come thinking it would be such a big deal.

“Ugh.”

It was at that moment.

That something like a thin cry reached my ears as I was thinking.

It seemed he was trembling quite a bit inside.

Well, yeah. The pale complexion I saw during the day was enough to prove just how scared Cellos was of that thing.

Having made my decision, I spread both wings.

In the direction that I needed to find out the identity of that thing, whatever it was.

According to the 8th Prince, it seemed to flee at a specific time, and something with an unknown identity roaming the Imperial Castle wasn't a favorable condition for me.

“Kkaak--”

At my cry, something that had been roughly rattling the doorknob stopped its movement.

And it slowly turned what appeared to be its head toward me.

At the same time, the squirrel sitting next to me looked at me as if asking what I thought I was doing.

It didn't speak, but I'm sure it was cursing at me with its eyes.

That's why I asked you if you wanted to come along before we left.

***

The rag monster, unlike its appearance, must have had some reason; after confirming there was just one crow by the window, it turned its body again.

I let out another cry and flapped my wings.

And I circled above the strange creature's head.

The creature swung its arms toward me.

It wasn't slow, but it wasn't fast enough to catch me either.

I avoided the swinging arms and flew at a slightly lower altitude.

I was able to approach this fearlessly, partly because the creature was just stumbling around without any special abilities, but its size also played a role.

It was a bit big, but it wasn't an inhuman size.

Since I was in a position to turn into a bear, I could easily get close and observe the creature.

It wasn't just a scrap of rags.

Inside the cloth pieces, which swayed in the direction of the wind my wings kicked up, there was a definite frame.

If there was a human inside, I could just think of them as a lunatic, but if something else came out, it would be a monster.

The black cloth covering its face (or what I thought was its face) fluttered.

It seemed like if I could just do something to that, I could see inside.

‘I'll need bigger wings.’

As luck would have it, today was the day I met a splendid eagle in the forest.

The warm energy gathered in my Dantian soon spread to the tips of my wings.

The black talons became sharper and larger, the black wings wider and more powerful.

This feels pretty good.

The flapping of the eagle's wings, full of strength, was incomparably more powerful than that of a crow.

Just then, a slightly strong autumn breeze blew in through the hallway window.

As the two winds intertwined, the scrap of rag wrapped around the creature's head shook violently.

What was visible through it was not a skeleton, nor a monster, but an ordinary person.

It was the first time I'd seen the face, but I could tell who it was at a glance.

Because the dark blue hair and familiar features reminded me of someone.

Why is Igo Crisa, who should be in prison, here?

***

Tollin, who had judged it best not to go out for a while after the carriage incident, was having the Little Duke refrain from outings as much as possible.

Moreover, the number of the Little Duke's tutors coming and going to the ducal mansion had also decreased, so from the Little Duke's perspective, he had reached a point where he couldn't handle the leftover free time, not even knowing the reason.

Tollin and Pale said he could rest comfortably or play with toys, but that was fine for a day or two; for the Little Duke, who had no hobby of playing from the beginning, it was just difficult.

The maids and nanny said he could use his time freely, but when he actually tried to read a book or study, they would make troubled faces and bring up that Tollin-nim had recommended he try doing something else if possible.

Then the Little Duke would hesitate, pick up his toys, and soon have to put them down.

There was no way it would be fun to play with toys by himself.

It was to the point where it was more comfortable to just be alone in his bedchamber.

Just like right now.

In the child's hand, as he looked at the clear sky by the window, was an old, small piece of wood.

It was a lost item from the children he met in the alley, which he hadn't been able to return.

He hadn't found the children yet.

He sometimes asked Pale, but he could only hear the answer that Tollin was searching hard.

Because he knew Tollin was already so busy he couldn't sleep, even when he asked if there was anything he could do to help, Pale would just say with a proud face that he was doing well enough.

He felt good, but also frustrated.

At times like this, his shiny, black friend would always listen to him.

The Little Duke missed his little friend, who hadn't visited for quite a long time, and loitered by the window for no reason.

“Huh?”

Today must have been a lucky day for the Little Duke.

Because, like a lie, his friend was flying in from far away.

“Blackie!”

In his delight, the Little Duke forgot his dignity and ran to throw open the window.

The Little Duke was so excited that he didn't even notice the crow flinch for a moment at the intense welcome and the name he hadn't heard in a long time, which he still couldn't get used to.

“Why didn't you come all this time? I've piled up a lot of walnuts to give you.”

The Little Duke, who had regained his vitality after a long time, uncharacteristically made a fuss and brought over a box that was on the table.

Looking at the walnuts piled up so high they were spilling out of the box, the one dubbed Blackie wore a troubled expression without Little Duke's knowledge.

The Little Duke didn't know it, but his friend wasn't particularly fond of nuts.