"This truly is the best gift ever."
Rupert was drawing manga in his studio late into the night. Ever since he’d collapsed from overwork, he had avoided working late at night unless absolutely necessary. However, after receiving the goddess's blessing, he no longer felt fatigue as before. Even after staying up all night, a couple of hours of sleep were enough to leave him feeling refreshed, naturally extending the ti he could devote to his work.
‘The imperial court said they would summon soon.’
It was the perfect blessing for Rupert, who anticipated a busy schedule ahead and urgently needed more ti for his manga.
"Sir Rupert, I’m glad it ended well, but it was truly dangerous."
This was the advice given to him by Count Julius of the Emperor's court, who had co down to investigate and had completed his inquiry. Julius’s words were not rely a warning but a counsel born of genuine concern for Rupert.
If this matter had only involved the Sorset family, it might have been overlooked. But when it involved the imperial prince, foreign royalty, and even heirs from powerful noble families like the Border Count’s house, it was undeniably a precarious situation.
Consequently, Edric had no choice but to return to the palace with Count Julius.
Because Rupert held the trust of both the Emperor and the Crown Prince, there had been no further issues raised. If it had been another noble’s estate hosting such figures, the Emperor might have responded very differently. After all, he was a man who would cast aside even his own children to preserve the imperial authority, without a hint of rcy.
“Rasshu, why won’t you transform?”
With all the guests gone, the estate had returned to its usual quiet state. However, Ada was still filling the silence with her lively antics. In the garden, she clutched Rasshu’s cheeks, questioning him persistently about his transformation.
“Woof?”
Rasshu, however, looked at her with a puzzled expression, as if to say, "What are you talking about?"
“Dad and big brother said they saw you transform into a human!”
Ada’s gaze bore into him, but Rasshu, feeling unfairly accused, could only bark in protest.
“Woof! Woof!”
“What? You’re saying transformation isn’t possible anymore?”
Ada sohow managed to interpret Rasshu’s response, and he nodded as if to confirm.
Typically, Blue Werewolves remain in their wolf form until they undergo an adult ceremony. Then, in a protected ritual, they consu the Blue Flower, the treasure they safeguard, and assu their true form.
This ritual, however, requires a guide—usually a parent or elder from the clan who can channel the Blue Flower’s energy within them. Without a guide, like when he temporarily transford to fight Satanail, Rasshu could only transform for brief periods. Thus, full awakening was currently impossible.
“Woof!”
“You an I have to help you?”
Again, Rasshu nodded. He had cared for Ada, feeding her the Blue Flower and various forest elixirs, because he believed she was the only one who could guide his energy.
But unaware of his intentions, Ada rely pouted, perched atop Rasshu, begging him to teach her how to transform too.
"Thank you!"
"Oh, it’s nothing, really…."
Rupert felt slightly taken aback by Zenia, whose smile stretched widely with barely contained joy.
"Sir Rupert, if I may, could I ask a favor?"
When she approached him with her request, Rupert couldn’t help but feel a little tense. After all, the Zenia he knew from the original story was nearly insane in her obsession and cruelty.
Of course, he knew that the current Zenia was different from the original, but the lingering unease was hard to shake.
But then she said,
"Please sign my books!"
Swiftly, Zenia revealed her request—to get Rupert's autograph on her treasured collection of his books.
“I actually wanted to ask last ti, but you looked so tired that I couldn’t bring myself to.”
Zenia practically bubbled over with excitent as Rupert signed each book for her.
"I see. Oh? This one must’ve been hard to get…."
“Hehe… I had to borrow money from my teacher with a ten-year contract to get it.”
Among the books, what caught Rupert’s eye was an initial limited edition of Cinderella, a rare item released with only a hundred copies. Zenia began explaining how difficult it had been to obtain it.
Listening to her, Rupert finally ca to terms with the fact that Zenia was entirely different from her character in the original story.
“You must really like Cinderella.”
“Yes… Actually, I also love A Dog of Flanders, but Cinderella is definitely my favorite.”
Zenia stroked the book lovingly as she replied, smiling, yet there was a trace of bitterness in her expression.
“May I ask why?”
“Pardon?”
“Oh, I an, you don’t have to answer if it’s a sensitive question. I was just curious.”
Zenia looked surprised, as if she hadn’t expected him to ask. Then, after a mont, she adopted a more serious expression and began her story.
“My parents… They both passed away when I was young.”
“I… I’m sorry if I’ve touched on sothing painful.”
“No, it’s fine. I ended up living with my uncle’s family, but I was scolded and beaten nearly every day.”
Though she spoke casually, Rupert sensed the sorrow in her voice. Having grown up without parents himself, he understood that pain.
“One day, a neighbor kid showed off a book to .”
It was a cheap pirated copy of a story that briefly circulated in the market, not a proper edition from the Yuren Trading Company.
“In hindsight, it was a poor imitation of your work, Sir Rupert, but to , it beca an irreplaceable mory.”
Zenia recounted how she identified with Cinderella, the protagonist, who ultimately found happiness. This tale had inspired her and given her hope.
“Do you know what nickna I had in my village?”
“…No, I can’t say I do.”
Rupert didn’t lack the awareness to say sothing like "witch" out loud.
“They called ‘witch.’ They’d say I was a red-haired demon who ate her own parents. My uncle’s family and the villagers alike called ‘Witch Zenia.’”
Hearing this, Rupert recalled the ti he’d worked on The Little rmaid. Originally, the protagonist had red hair, but he had changed it, fearing the color would prompt negative reactions.
Later, when he made A Dog of Flanders, he had deliberately given Nero red hair, yet even now, he regretted the initial decision.
“If I hadn’t read your stories back then, I might have truly beco a witch.”
Seeing her beloved storybook characters endure hardships and find happiness had given Zenia strength and hope to hold on.
And in a twist of fate, a series of "miracles" unfolded for her. She t her ntor, Yustaf, after reading Rupert’s first manga, The Kingdom of Ice. Then, after studying The Iron-Blooded Alchemist, she invented a new spell and earned recognition.
“Without you, Sir Rupert, none of this would have been possible.”
For Zenia, Rupert was the person who had transford her life.
"…There was a portrait of a woman once."
Rupert, having listened to Zenia’s story in silence, suddenly began a seemingly unrelated story.
“It was painted by the greatest artist of the ti, and it beca famous. Do you know why?”
“Maybe… because the woman was beautiful?”
“Hmm… It was an ordinary portrait. But people who saw it each had different interpretations of her expression.”
"So said she was smiling, others thought she was expressionless, and so felt she looked angry."
Zenia listened, drawn into his story.
“That’s fascinating—everyone saw the sa picture, yet they felt differently.”
“Yes, they all saw the sa image, but their reactions were unique.”
Rupert smiled as he continued.
“It’s the sa with my books. I create them, but everyone responds differently.”
“What do you an?”
“So people even got upset at the ending because the villains weren’t punished harshly enough.”
“Really?”
Thinking it a joke, Zenia laughed, while Rupert simply chuckled, refraining from ntioning that the person upset was, in fact, an imperial princess.
“Zenia, it’s not because of my stories that you’re happy. It’s because you’re inherently a good person.”
“Really? I still sotis doubt myself.”
Even though Zenia was now widely respected and enjoyed a happiness she couldn’t have imagined in the past, sotis, without reason, a deep anxiety would settle over her, as if this happiness could be taken from her at any mont.
“Anyone who reads my books and wishes to beco a hero was probably already one at heart.”
"…"
“Even I have regrets and monts when I want to run away from my work. Compared to , you’re far stronger and more impressive, Zenia.”
At Rupert’s heartfelt words, Zenia felt her heart race once again.
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